Tumgik
#talking heads staten island
railwayhistorical · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Recalling the Talking Heads
Recently I recalled a Talking Heads concert that I had attended with good friends. We traveled from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and then grabbed the ferry over to Staten Island. I took no pictures, but thanks to the web, I was able to track down the date, venue, and more.
Poking around on-line, I ran across an image of a ticket stub for the show on a French site (note: this was not my ticket). I found an update on the Paramount Theatre which was near the ferry dock as I recall. Lastly, and perhaps most easily, I was able to track down the set list. This particular tour, by the way, was called, The Name of the Band is Talking Heads.
Tina was visibly pregnant, and glowing. I had not recalled that the Tom Tom Club opened, but half the members are from the Heads, so it makes sense. I have no recollection of Burning Spear but looked up that they are a Jamaican roots reggae singer-songwriter, vocalist and musician. But I do remember, quite distinctly, that David Byrne was very polite—he said “thank you” after nearly every song but it seemed that he truly meant it.
I only wish I’d brought a camera. The date was August 20th 1982.
16 notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 4 months
Text
Seven
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 6,178
Warnings: fluff, angst, talks of child abuse - heavily. mentions of injuries and scars on a child. swearing
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
He first met her when he was seven.
The day started off as the same as those that came before; wake up, have breakfast, get ready and head to the east wing of his home to begin his tutoring. Have lunch, carry on with the schoolwork, and be done for the day.
Even after he said his goodbyes to Mrs Mars he was still stuck in a routine.
Day in and day out.
However that day was different because it was Friday. Every Friday his best friend Steve came to stay over for the weekend, every weekend they caused havoc. Not that Winnie or George minded, all week they saw their son miserable until his friend arrived on Fridays at 3pm, not a minute earlier and not a minute later. Sadly that hadn’t happened for three weeks as Steve and his ma had to go to Staten Island for a family emergency.
To Bucky Staten Island was on the other side of the world, so when he found out that Steve had to leave for a few weeks - well he kicked off.
He destroyed everything that was in his path, crying and begging his ma to stop Sarah from taking his best friend away. Promising her that if she let Steve live with them that he would be on his best behaviour, forever and ever he promised her.
Once he had exhausted himself out and grew tired the whole house went quiet.
For the three weeks that he didn’t see Steve he was quieter, he sulked at his desk and at the dinner table. He was restless, and as the Fridays approached and went by his attitude only grew worse.
Winnie nearly cried in response to hearing Sarah saying that her and Steve would be leaving the next day. Winnie oddly enough found some comfort in knowing that Steve was acting the same way as her beloved James. Winnie had decided that she wasn’t going to tell James about how on that Friday he was going to be reunited with his best friend, keeping it to herself and her husband in order to surprise him. 
A seven year old Bucky made his way in to the kitchen glaring at his mother when she told him that he needed to come with her, they made their way to the front door just as a knock cut through the silence.
“Open the door sweetie” she told him, ignoring the glare that was coming from her only son.
Not wanting to be in trouble with his father again he complied with his mothers instructions.
Hand on the door handle he opened the door, the frown he wore day in and day out for 21 days vanished when he sees his best friend standing there.
“S-Stevie?”
“Bucky”
“You’re back?”
“I am”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.“
Both Winnie and Sarah watched on as their sons talked and as Bucky pulled Steve into a bone crushing hug - which didn’t last long as Steve started to scuffle up Bucky’s hair, then both of them started to wrestle with one another.
“Come in Sarah, I’ve missed you my friend” They left the two seven year olds wrestling in the foyer.
Their wrestling match came to an abrupt end when Steve’s asthma got the better of him.
Tumblr media
He was playing in the backyard with Steve when he felt eyes on him, Bucky chose to ignore the feeling thinking it was just one of the staff members keeping an eye on the pair.
“Buck get the ball” Steve shouted slightly out of breath.
Nodding he turns to where Steve was pointing, frowning at not being able to see it straight away. “Steve I can’t find it!”
“Do that means I win this round?” Steve shouted back.
“No! Why did you have to kick it so hard?”
“Because I’m the best!”
“No you’re not! I’ve found it!”
Bucky bends down to grab the ball, ball under his arm he stops when he hears someone talking. He knows he shouldn’t go and check it out but he’s never really listened to his father, so he drops the ball again and climbs over the fence that separates the woods from his garden.
“-Miss Ladybug come back”
He watches a girl; a little bit smaller than him with wild bushy hair, the dress she wore was ratty and ripped on the bottom. He notices dirt on her arms and neck and that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.
“-Mr Ant that tickles, what have you been up to today?”
“Ants don’t talk.”
“You scared me!”
He watches her spin around to face him, his eyes widen when he sees the dark bruise around her eye and her bottom lip having dried blood on it.
However even at seven years old he likes the bright colour of her eyes.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m Bucky what’s your name?”
“Y/n, Ducky’s a weird name”
“It’s Bucky not Ducky”
“Can I call you Ducky?”
“Fine. But I get to call you…um Bunny!”
“But my names not Bunny it’s Y/n”
“My names not Ducky but I’m letting you call me that. So Bunny what are you doing?”
The girl waves him over and smiles “Look Miss Ladybug and Mr Ant are friends”
“They can’t be friends”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense, Miss Ladybug should be friends with other ladybugs and not ants.”
“They can be friends.”
“They can’t”
“Yes the can!”
“Whatever. Why don’t you have shoes on?” He asks changing the subject.
“I don’t have any, what are you doing here?”
“Why don’t you have any shoes?”
“My parents are poor.”
“Mine are rich”
“Oh. I guess you live in that house over there?”
“Yeah, where’s your house?”
“On the other side of the woods. It’s super small and poorly”
“How can a house be poorly?”
“I don’t know but that’s what my mama says. Do you want to play fairies with me?”
From where they were stood they called hear Steve calling for Bucky, he watches as her smile fades slowly.
“I’ve can’t, got to go back to my friend. I can see you tomorrow?”
“Okay!” She beams up at him.
“Bye Bunny”
“Bye Ducky”
She watches him as he walks away, her tiny arm still waving side to side long after he climbs over the fence.
“Buck what took you so long?” Steve questions from his place on the ground.
“I-I met someone Stevie” Sitting down next to his friend.
“What do you mean?”
“Her names Y/n-“
“Her? A girl?”
“Yes a girl. She’s pretty Stevie, b-but she had bruises on her face and arms I thought it was mud at first but I got closer-“
“You met a girl that is pretty?”
Rolling his eyes “stop butting in! But yes, real pretty. I like her eyes”
“Bucky loves a girl, Bucky loves a girl-“ Steve sings as he runs around the garden.
“No I don’t!” Bucky shouts as he runs around after the blonde.
The next day Bucky leaves Steve in the living room so he could draw, his asthma had worsen over night so he wasn’t up to playing games.
“Go and see your girlfriend”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“But you love her”
“I don’t love her Steve! Stop saying that. I’ll be back soon okay?”
“Okay, have fun”
Climbing over the fence he wasted no time in going to the spot he had saw her the day before, frowning when he couldn’t see her.
“Y/n? Bunny?”
“Up here Ducky”
He looks up and sees her sitting on the branch of the many trees that filled the woods.
“What are you doing up there?”
“Hiding”
“From what?”
“The monsters”
“What monsters?”
“The worst kind of monsters” He’s about to reply when she drops down from where she was perched “they call themselves the tickle monsters!”
She laughs at his deadpanned look. ��How old are you Bunny?”
“Six, you?”
“Seven. Can I ask you something?”
“Okay”
“What happened to your face?”
“My father is not nice. He drinks special juice and gets mad”
Bucky stands and watches her twiddle her fingers, feeling bad about asking her that question but he was curious.
“He gets mad and hurts me, I don’t know why but I don’t think he likes me very much. Do you like me?” She continues and asks.
“I like you. You’re my friend Bunny” Smiling when he sees her smile.
“I’ve never had a real friend before. Your my friend Ducky”
“I have another friend his name is Steve, he gets poorly a lot”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure but he’s great” Bucky states as he picks up a twig off the ground.
“Would he be my friend too?” Y/n asks and copies what he did, waving the twig around in the air.
“Maybe”
“I would like that.”
Y/n took him to her favourite spots in the woods, introducing him to the animals she named. He liked it, liked her.
“It’s getting colder” he says as they walk around.
“It is. You should go home, I’ll walk you”
“What about you?”
“I’ll stay out later my mama is at her job and I don’t want to go home just yet”
“What about food? You need to have dinner”
“I’ll eat some berries like always, father doesn’t know how to cook not like my mama”
“You can come with me if you want, my ma wont mind”
“I’m dirty but it’s okay. Will I see you tomorrow Ducky?”
“Your smelly too and yeah I’ll see you tomorrow”
“You’re smelly!” She giggles.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Bunny”
“See you tomorrow Ducky”
Tumblr media
The next day after Bucky, Steve and their parents got back from church he ran into the kitchen to ask the cook to make him some sandwiches. Saying his thanks he leaves Steve once again to go and see his Bunny.
“Bunny what happened?” He says as he see her in the same spot they keep meeting in.
One side of her face was swollen with dried blood splatters darted across her face. Her left eye was completely swollen shut and her lip had been split again.
“Ducky you’re here! I’ve been waiting ages”
“I’m here Bunny but what happened?”
“I thought you wasn’t coming”
“Y/n what happened to your face?”
“My father got mad last night when I came home. I like your clothes”
“I had to go church, why was he mad?”
“He ran out of his special juice” she shrugged one shoulder.
“Have you had any food today?”
“Just a few berries. I won’t be able to play today my arm really poorly”
“I brought you some sandwiches the cook made them”
“You can eat them Ducky”
“It’s for you, eat and I’ll take you to my home and have my ma look at your arm”
“I can’t”
“Why not?”
“I’m dirty…I don’t want to get mud in your home, I’ll be okay promise”
“Don’t be silly Bunny, eat”
He watches as she carefully undoes the foil that kept the sandwiches safe, her eyes going up to his he smiles and nods. “We’ll have to take the long way round I don’t think you can climb the fence”
“It will get better just like last time Ducky, I’ll be okay. Thank you for the food”
“My ma can help she’s a nurse”
“I-I…I’ll be fine Ducky I swear it”
Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He was going to drag Bunny home to get his ma’s help whether she liked it or not. He didn’t know why but he felt such an overwhelming urge to protect her, he didn’t want her to have bruises on her pretty face anymore or see her pretty eyes sad.
He’s only known her for a few days and all he wants is for her to be safe.
Bucky watches silently as she devours the ham sandwiches, regret washing over him when he realises he forgot to bring a drink with him for her to have.
“Thank you Ducky, it was very yummy” she says as soon as she swallows the last bit of food.
“It’s okay Bun-“
The rest of his sentence dies on the tip of his tongue, Y/n looks at him with wide eyes, the fear drowns him whole at the monstrous booming voice coming from the other side of the woods.
“Y/n! Get home now you bitch!”
“I-I-I have t-to go. Bye Bucky” she whispers as she stands up on shaky legs.
“Bunny come with me” he whispers back afraid to speak any louder the monster will get him and his Bunny. He leans on his knees to hold her good hand as a way to get her to stay with him and not to go towards the voice that echos over the silent woods.
“I-I can’t-“
“Get back here you fucking cunt!” The voice sounds again, angrier and louder this time.
“Bye Bucky” She pulls her hand away and takes off running towards the monster that awaits her. Bucky can only watch, scared for his friend, his Bunny.
The woods fall silent once again.
Tumblr media
On Monday after he was released from Mrs Mars’s clutches he runs into the kitchen to ask the cook if she could make sandwiches once again. Saying his thanks he runs through the doors and into the garden and over the fence.
“Bunny?”
No response.
Looking up in the trees to see if she was hiding again his shoulders sagged in defeat when she wasn’t there.
So he waited. And waited. And waited.
It was getting dark and truth be told he was kind of scared of the tall trees that looked mean and scary in the darkness.
Reluctantly he left, slowly putting one foot in front of the other just to see if she’ll come back to see him, before he knew it he was back at the fence.
Tuesday he did his whole routine and once again asking the cook for sandwiches he takes off to the woods.
“Y/n? Bunny it’s Ducky…”
No response.
This time he ventured further in and went to the places Y/n had shown him, coming up empty he made his way back to the spot. The hope he had disappearing when she wasn’t there waiting for him.
So he waited. And waited. And waited.
Like the day before he took his time in reaching the fence, however moving just as slower in hopes of hearing her voice.
It didn’t happen.
It was Wednesday and like the past two days he repeats his actions. Frustration and sadness are the only emotions he feels when he sees that she’s not there once again.
Bucky repeated his actions for two weeks straight. On the first Friday he had even took Steve over the fence in hopes that if she senses that he brought his friend with him that she’d come back to him. Steve thought he was going crazy, honestly. He generally thought that Bucky had made the whole thing up just to mess with him.
It was Saturday and it had been almost three weeks without seeing her. Bucky thought Steve was right about him making it up, he thought that maybe she was his imaginary friend but she looked, sounded and felt so real.
Bucky promised Steve that this would be the last day that he ventured out into the woods to try and find her. After helping Steve over the fence he climbed over and both made their way to the designated spot.
They’d been out there for a while when Steve spoke up.
“Buck come on she’s not real”
“But she is. I know she is”
“Let’s go please it’s really cold”
He was right, the winter air was getting colder now. Nodding he turns around and helps Steve off the ground, walking back in the direction of his home Steve speaks again.
“What did you say?”
“What?”
“Did you not just say something?”
“No what did you hea-“
In the distance he hears the voice that he had been wanting to hear for three weeks now, the voice belonging to Bunny.
“D-Ducky!”
He spins around and his heart drops. She’s there, getting closer to him and Steve. Her smile takes up most of her face as she limps as fast as she could towards the two boys.
“Bunny!” He says just as he takes off running towards her. His legs pushing him faster than ever before.
Once she was in reach he wasted no time in pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, just like he seen his father do to his ma.
“Sweet Bunny you’re here” he lightly pants into her bushy hair.
“I’ve missed you Ducky”
“I’ve missed you too Bunny”
Steve stands just off to the side watching the scene in front of him. She’s real and his best friend isn’t crazy he thinks to himself.
Bucky slowly pulls away from her, his smile fading at seeing the damage and pain caused to her face close up. A cough from the side of them have their attention taken away from one another to the blonde standing there.
“Y/n this is Steve my best friend, Steve this is Y/n my Bunny”
“Hi it’s nice to meet you” Steve says waving awkwardly.
“Hi. Will you be my friend too?” Y/n asks shyly, burrowing in closer to Bucky’s embrace.
“Yeah but you have to be mine too”
“Yes!”
Bucky smiles before turning his full attention to Y/n. “Bunny…what happened?”
“I wasn’t allowed to come out. I was naughty”
“D-did your father do this?”
“Yeah. Hey look I lost two teeth” she smiled baring her teeth, and sure enough she was missing her two front ones.
“Where did you lose them?” Bucky chuckles.
“I don’t know” she shrugs with a giggle.
“Bunny I’m going to take you to my ma and she’ll take care of your face”
“It’s fine Ducky I promise”
“Ducky?” Steve questions with a small laugh following.
“His name is Ducky and I’m Bunny” she says proudly.
“That’s cute!”
“Steve. Shut up. Bunny come on”
Both boys have to convince Y/n to follow them and accept help, Bucky notices the limp she has was getting worse as they walked back to the fence and he worries that if they go the long way around she’s going to be in more pain so he tells his two friends that he’s going to help Y/n over the fence first then he’ll help Steve.
Easier said than done.
After struggling to pull himself over the fence for what felt like the hundredth time he gently took Bunny’s hand in his and marched off as if he was on a mission.
“D-Ducky…what if your ma doesn’t want to help and we can’t be friends anymore” She whispers as the trio get closer to the huge house.
“She will help you I promise and we’ll always be friends Bunny don’t worry”
Steve opens the door that leads into the kitchen and holds it open for the two, shutting it behind him he follows closely. Ignoring the muddy footprints that Y/n leaves behind her.
The trio follows the sound of music that comes from the living room, when they reach the room they see Bucky’s parents slow dancing to the hum of the song.
Bucky rolls his eyes.
Steve looks down at his shoes.
Y/n watches with a smile gracing her lips, her eyes following their movements.
“Ma” Bucky says loudly startling the couple.
“Jame-oh my goodness, James who is this and what happened?” Winnie starts before her eyes land on Y/n. Detaching herself from George she moves closer to the girl.
“This is Y/n she needs help Ma”
Winnie lands on her knees with a soft thud in front of Y/n, her hands going slowly and gently to the little girls arms - noticing her hand linked together with her sons. “Hello sweetie, I’m Winnie I’m going to clean your wounds for you okay? Would you like to come with me please?”
“O-okay” she says hesitantly her eyes going from Winnie’s to Bucky’s who nods and smiles at her.
Winnie takes her free hand in hers and waits for Bucky to untangle his fingers from the girl, she leads her upstairs to the bathroom, speaking softly to the girl as they go.
Tumblr media
“This will sting sweetie but I’ll be as gentle as I can be, let me know if I’m hurting you okay” she says after she’s sat Y/n on the closed lid of the toilet.
“Okay”
Winnie takes a few wipes from the packet and moves closer to the girl who sits there swinging her legs back and forth. Slowly wiping the ray of cuts that cover the girls face she can’t help but wonder who would hurt such a beautiful creature.
“My son James, he didn’t do this did he?” Hating herself for even asking but she had to be sure.
“No Miss, m-my father is not nice”
“Your father did this?” Halting her movements she watches as the girl nods. “Where’s your mother?”
“Mama goes to her job”
“Where does she work?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in two weeks, do you know where she is?”
Oh how Winnie’s heart breaks.
“I haven’t sweetie, does your father hurt your mama?”
“Yes. Did you know that Ducky’s my friend”
“Ducky?”
“Bucky”
Winnie chuckles which causes Y/n to giggle “you call him Ducky?”
“Yes and he calls me Bunny. Why did you call him James Miss?”
“Call me Winnie darling and because James is first name, his middle name is Buchanan but Stevie calls him Bucky”
“And I call him Ducky” Y/n giggles loudly.
“You do. Sweetie do you have any more cuts that I need to clean?”
Winnie watches as her face drops and as she scoots further back on the toilet. Clutching her tatty dress a little tighter in her tiny hands.
“I-I can help you Y/n, it’s okay I promise”
“Yo-you won’t be mad?”
“No my love I won’t be mad”
Y/n pushes herself off the seat until she stands up, her eyes finding the tiled flooring more interesting as her hands pull the bottom of her dress further up her thin body.
Winnie had to slap her hand across her mouth as she sees the unmistakable light red lines of scars mapping across the girls’ very thin, bruised thighs.
“Sw-Sweetie, i-is there more?” Her heart cracking as Y/n nods again, pulling her dress further up until Winnie had to help in pulling the whole ratty thing off her.
She fights with herself trying to keep the tears at bay as her eyes dart around from one scar to the next. She fights off the thought of how any of them happened out of her head, she knows if she let that thought in she wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again.
“M-my father gets mad when he runs out of his special juice. It’s my fault because I’m a stupid bitch a-and a worthless cunt” her eyes go to the ceiling as she remembers the words that her father calls her most days.
“No no no my sweetie, you are none of them things you hear me? Y/n you are such a sweet girl, oh come here my sweet baby” Winnie says as she brings the girl into her warm embrace gently wrapping her arms around Y/n’s slim body, pressing light kisses to her forehead. She lets the tears fall freely.
Since Y/n wasn’t so use to feeling of loving hands on her she tenses up. She was confused by Winnie’s words and affection all she wanted was her Ducky.
After a while Winnie pulls away, wiping her tears with the backs of her hands she stands up on shaky legs. “I’m going to run you a nice hot bath, it will help. I promise” she turns to where the bathtub sat when she felt small hands tug lightly on her dress. Looking down she sees Y/n standing looking scared.
“It’s okay, here take my hand”
Filling the bathtub full of water she lets Y/n pull her underwear down and Winnie helps her into the tub.
“I’m just going to ask George to get some clothes for you and I’ll help you wash your hair okay? I’ll be right back I promise”
“O-okay”
Tumblr media
“Bucky who’s that girl?”
“Y/n” he says as he watches his ma and Bunny go upstairs, he starts to follow when his fathers hand stops him.
“I know but who is she? Where did you find her?”
“In the woods-“
“You’re not suppose to go out there!” George scolds.
“I know! But I did and she’s my friend now”
Bucky really doesn’t understand what the big deal is, okay so he disobeyed his fathers order of not going over the fence but if he didn’t he wouldn’t have met Y/n.
George sighs and crouches down to his sons level “son what would have happened if you fell or hurt yourself and me and your mother couldn’t get to you huh? Listen son I’m not that mad at you okay, I just worry”
“I-I’m sorry dad”
“It’s okay. Do you know who’s hurt her?”
“Her father” he spits out in disgust “he drinks special juice and he hurts my Bunny!”
George is puzzled by what this special juice could of been before it clicks, sighing at the memories of him calling the alcohol that his father use to drink when he was younger comes up after so many years of repressing the memories.
“Oh son-“
“It’s not fair dad, why does he do it? She’s amazing and pretty and funny and weird and she’s my friend and sh-she’s my Bunny-“
“James breath! Come on son breathe with me a-and Steve, watch what we’re doing. There you go, oh come here sweet boy” George says seeing the tears fall from his sons eyes, pulling him into his arms he lets his son cry.
He hears sniffles coming from the side of him and he sees Steve crying too so he wastes no time in opening his arms for his unofficial adopted son for him to run into the hug too.
They stay in the hug before Bucky pulls away first, wiping his tears “dad can we go up and wait for ma to finish? I-I want to be with Bunny p-please”
“Of course, come on” he holds his hands out for his sons to place theirs in his before moving towards and up the stairs.
George and Steve sit down on the wooden floor as they watch Bucky pace back and forth, his eyes going from the bathroom door to the floor and back again.
“Dad what’s taking so long?”
“I’m not sure son, it’s okay though your mother knows what she’s doing don’t worry”
“It’s been so long though”
“Bucky come and sit down and tell me why you call her Bunny, ay?”
“She calls him Ducky, George” Steve giggles and George has to stifle his laugh as Bucky glares at Steve.
“Ducky, um strange. So Bunny?”
Bucky rolls his eyes and sits down next to his father “she calls me Ducky because she said Bucky was a strange name, I call her Bunny because she’s cute…like a bunny.” He shrugs, lightly tapping his knees with his fingers.
“I think Bucky loves Bunny” Steve tries and fails to whisper to George.
“I don’t love her Steven!”
“You sure James?”
“I. Do. No. Love. Her!” Bucky growls.
“Boys calm down, Steve stop winding Bucky up about him loving Bunny and Bucky just admit you love her” George laughs which gets slightly louder as Bucky starts hitting him.
“I do not! That’s gross! Girls are gross”
“Girls aren’t gross James”
“Yes they are. Bunny’s yucky”
Steve and George share a look full of mischief just as they start chanting “Bucky loves Bunny”.
“I hate you both!” Bucky says standing up to begin his pacing again.
“Buck we’re only messing with you” George starts “your right girls are gross and yucky”
“Dad can I ask you something?”
“Of course you can”
“Can Bunny live with us? I’ll be extra good and I won’t ask for anything for my birthday or for Christmas I promise”
“I-I’m not sure son-“
“Why not? Please dad-“
“Because she has parents Bucky-“
“Her dad hurts her!”
“She has a mother?”
“Yeah but-“
“Bucky-“
“I’ll run away and I’ll take Bunny with me.”
Sighing whilst sliding his hands down his face George is about to reply when the bathroom door opens, Winnie waving him over.
“Is Bunny okay ma?”
“She is darling I just need to talk to your father for a second”
“Can I see her?”
“Not yet, she’s in the bath. George can you go and get some clothes from James’s room please”
“Of course my love”
Bucky and Steve watches as George heads down the corridor and slipping into Bucky’s bedroom, not long after he comes back with a red checkered pants and a woolly sweater and some socks.
“Will this be okay?”
“Yes, thank you. How about you take the boys downstairs and start doing dinner? Make enough so that Y/n can join us” Winnie smiles trying not to look George in his eyes knowing that he’ll know that she’s been crying and she really didn’t want the boys knowing that their friend is covered in scars.
“Come boys you can help me, you have to make sure I don’t burn the house down”
Bucky waits until Steve and his dad is a little further down the hallway, turning to his mom he cocks his head to the side. “Ma…is she really okay?”
“She will be James, you should be proud of yourself for bringing her home to get help”
“Yeah…Ma I already asked dad but can Y/n live with us? I’ll be extra good I swear!”
“We-I-Bucky please go downstairs and help your father and Stevie with dinner”
Huffing loudly he nods and heads to the kitchen.
Tumblr media
Winnies heart breaks as the hope vanishing from her sons eyes at the prospect of Y/n living with them. She couldn’t lie that the thought of having her in their home where she was safe and protected hadn’t crossed her mind, sadly she knew she just couldn’t kidnap the child no matter how bad her home life was.
“These belong to James but you can wear them, let’s get you cleaned up before we have some dinner”
After carefully cleaning Y/n’s body with the sponge and lavender body wash Winnie took her time in washing the girls hair, slowly untangling the knots apologising every time she snagged a rough one.
Once cleaned, dried and wearing warm clothes Winnie started on brushing Y/n’s hair, taking her time once again as the girls hair was curly and bushier than before.
“All done my sweetie. Let’s go and get some food in our tummies, yeah?”
“A-are you sure Miss?”
“Of course, you must be hungry”
Y/n nods and holds out her hand for Winnie to take, the woman does so with a smile on her lips and leads them downstairs to the kitchen. Steve was the first one to notice Winnie and Y/n standing at the archway he had to blink a few times to make sure it was really his new friend standing there.
“Buck” Steve whispers towards Bucky.
“What?” He whispers back.
“Look”
“Wha-Bunny!” Bucky noticing the blonde staring off so his bright blue eyes followed, landing on Y/n. Dropping the cutlery on the side he rushes over instantly pulling her in for a hug. “You smell nice an-and your hair isn’t wild no more”
“I had a bath Ducky!” She beams proudly, hugging him just as tight as he was.
Winnie’s eyes found George’s smiling sadly at her husband as she moves closer to him.
Steve stands there for a few minutes before slowly moving towards his friends and wrapping his arms around the pair.
Tumblr media
“It’s called spaghetti and it’s nice” Bucky says showing Y/n how to twirl her fork around the food, after he had to stop her from picking up the food with her hands.
“It looks like wormies” she giggles.
“It’s nicer then worms Bunny”
She soon gets the hang of twirling the spaghetti around the fork and everyone’s taken back by the fact she’s the first one to eat every last bit of the home cooked meal.
“Would you like seconds Y/n? There’s plenty more left” George says already standing up to place more on her plate.
“Seconds?” She asks.
“It means you can have more Bunny” Bucky informs her.
“I-I-am I allowed Ducky?”
“Yeah, do you want so more?”
“Yes. It’s very yummy”
George piles more food on her plate, feeling rather proud of himself that someone likes his cooking - at the weekends the staff have the two days off and normally Winnie takes over cooking, on the rare occasions that George cooks everybody complains about it being burnt or undercooked.
“Thank you Mr” Y/n whispers before digging in again.
Her plate is once again empty before anyone else’s.
Y/n sits patiently waiting for Bucky to finish, her eyes fluttering around the room looking from one thing to the next when her eyes dart straight to Winnie who’s sitting there chuckling, Y/n has no idea what is funny but she starts to giggle too smiling widely at the woman.
“Darling what’s so funny?” George asks from his seat at the end of the table.
“Sweetie look at James for me” Winnie tells Y/n so she does. Bucky bursts out laughing when his Bunny looks at him with spaghetti sauce covering her lower face…and somehow a bit on her eyebrow.
“Bunny you’re messy again” Bucky laughs, taking his napkin and lightly and as gently as he could he starts rubbing the sauce off her face.
“Sorry”
“It’s okay Bun, all…clean”
“It just means that you enjoyed your dinner” George tells her.
“It was yummy. Thank you Mr Ducky’s dad”
“You can call me George sweetheart”
After dinner was done, they move into the living room, Bucky helps Y/n onto the couch and he sits next to her. Steve sitting on the other side of Y/n.
“Ma, dad can Y/n live with us now?”
“James I’ve told you it’s not that simple son” George starts before looking over at Winnie silently begging her to help him out.
“Your fathers right darling, she has a mama who is probably worried about her”
“But-“
“No buts James-“
“Please Ma”
“It’s okay Ducky, my father has gone away until Wednesday I’ll be okay and I’ll get to see you tomorrow and the next day”
“Sweetie…what do you mean? Where’s he gone?” Winnie asks.
“He said he had to go to Mexico for work, do you know where Mexico is? It’s super far away!”
“And where’s your mama?”
“I’m not sure I’ve not seen her in two weeks Miss Winnie doesn’t know where she is, do you know?”
“N-no I don’t sweetheart. Is there anyone at your house?”
“No”
“Who would be looking after you whilst your father is away?” Winnie then asks.
“No one, I have to go to my spot in the woods like before”
Winnie looks at George in what can be described as horror. George looks at Bucky who just shrugs.
“The spot you took me to Bunny?”
“Yeah…do I go now Ducky?”
“No!” Winnie and George shouts causing the three children to jump further backwards in their seats.
“No, we meant you can stay with us until Wednesday w-when your father gets back” Winnie says quietly.
“Yes!” Bucky cheers pulling Y/n under his arm “it’s going to be so much fun Bunny!”
Y/n giggles and nods.
Tumblr media
Winnie tucks Y/n into bed in one of the spare rooms, she sits on the bed looking at the little girl as she brushes her hair out of her face.
“Are you okay sweetie?”
“Yeah, thank you Miss Winnie”
“You don’t need to thank me darling, would you like me to leave the light on for you?”
“No it’s okay”
“Okay, I’ll leave the door cracked open a little bit for you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Night night my sweet girl, I’ll see you tomorrow” she bends down and places a kiss to the girls forehead. Winnie freezes by the door staring into the darkness as she hears-
“Night night mama”
She meets George in the living room where she breaks down crying, telling him what she had saw on the tiny body belonging to Bucky’s friend, her husband holds her and cries himself.
A few glasses of wine later they head to bed themselves, Winnie stopping as she sees Y/n’s door fully shut, opening the wooden door she smiles at seeing her son in bed with Y/n, holding her tightly in his arms.
George comes up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and smiles. Whispering to her that they should go to bed, Winnie closes the door quietly.
“Night night my sweet Bunny” Bucky whispers into the darkness, kissing her forehead lightly, he heads off to dreamland.
Next>
Tumblr media
Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx
875 notes · View notes
dandylovesturtles · 5 months
Text
havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.
this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.
post-movie
...
Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.
So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.
And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."
And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.
"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"
Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.
"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.
Traitors, every single one of them.
The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.
Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.
Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.
"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."
Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.
For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.
"You think I came in here to yell at you?"
Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."
"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"
He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.
Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.
"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."
It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.
Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.
Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.
"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"
His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.
Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.
Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.
"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.
Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."
Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.
Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.
"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.
Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"
"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."
Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.
"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."
Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.
"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"
"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.
"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."
"But-"
A furry finger on his lip quiets him.
"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."
Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.
But still...
"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"
"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."
Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.
He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.
"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"
His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.
"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."
He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.
"Dad-"
"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."
A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."
"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."
Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.
"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."
He presses his forehead against the sheets.
"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."
He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.
"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"
"But-"
"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."
Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.
"...I didn't have to do it," he says.
"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."
Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.
All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.
"I was so scared."
"I know."
"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."
"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."
"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."
"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."
Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.
Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.
518 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
a/n: remember that poll you guys voted in on what fic i should work on? this is the fic that one 😂 i’ve been wanting to write this one for a minute and had so much fun doing it!! i love the soft vibes and i hope you guys do too 🥰 lots of fun stuff coming up 🤍
word count: 4.9k
tw: a little dirty talk, a little horny making out, nothing crazy
summary: sunrise on the beach with mat becomes your favorite memory
Sleep fades away slowly, a warm hand working its way gently into your hair, fingertips rubbing against your scalp. You hum and press your face into the pillow bunched up under your head.
A familiar chuckle pierces the veil of sleep, fingers continuing their gentle rub. “Hey, come on Sleeping Beauty,” Mat’s voice is low and amused in your ear. “Time for that sunrise.”
You whine and roll over, sleep still clinging stubbornly to your brain. In your hazy half-awake state, you remember that you’d told Mat you wanted to see the sunrise on the beach, but you honestly didn’t think he’d be able to manage to get up this early. “Time’s it?” you mumble around a yawn, eyes still shut and hand groping for Mat’s. He laces his fingers with yours, taking pity on your floundering hand. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, his palm dry and warm in your own.
“Four ten,” he says, laughing at the outraged noise you make. “Babe, sunrise is at 5:20, had to get you up early.”
One eye cracks open and Mat comes into view, sitting on the edge of the mattress, hair looking a little crazy. He’s got a soft smile on his face even as his lips are tilted up with amusement. “This is cruel and unusual,” you mumble, stretching your legs out under the pile of blankets. Your calf cramps slightly and you flex your foot to relieve the twinge.
Mat’s fingers twitch in yours and he shrugs a little. “You said you wanted to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, tugging at your hand and pulling you into a sitting position. “Not too many more days left on the Island for that to happen.”
He’s not wrong - after the six-game playoff loss to the Canes, you’d hung around the Island so you could spend your birthday with your friends, but you’re leaving in a couple of days to visit Mat’s family before the Bear wedding and then hopping over to Europe for a couple of weeks of vacation. The summer is jam-packed full of fun plans that you’re looking forward to.
“I hate that you’re right,” you sigh, more awake now. Mat leans in and kisses you quickly. He jumps up before you can really kiss him back, making your forehead crease in confusion.
“I’m always right,” he teases, rummaging through your drawers to find you some clothes. You stretch your arms over your head, t-shirt riding up and exposing your stomach to the cool air of your bedroom. You shiver a bit, that full-body shake that’s the result of a really good stretch.
With a scoff, you swing your legs out of bed and mutter, “you weren’t right when you missed the exit and drove us into Staten Island last week, making us very late for dinner.”
Mat blows a raspberry at you. “I thought we weren’t going to bring that up again?” He whines, pouting like a toddler.
You shoot him a cheeky grin over your shoulder and pad to the bathroom to clean up. “I’m bringing that up until the end of time, Mr. I Don’t Need Directions Babe I Know Where I’m Going,” you laugh to yourself before knocking the door shut with your foot so you can have a minute of privacy.
Mat’s got the bedside lamps on when you leave the bathroom, casting your bedroom in soft light that doesn’t hurt your tired eyes. You smile gratefully and flop back down on the bed. “Are you sure we have to do this?” You yawn again. “What about staying in bed and fucking like bunnies? That could be fun.”
Your boyfriend laughs and comes to straddle your legs, knees on the outside of your own, leaning down over you to press a kiss to your forehead. “I think we can do that later,” he mutters against your skin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Get dressed.”
Looking at him, you notice for the first time that Mat’s already dressed in a navy quarter zip and jeans and you wonder exactly how early he got up. It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day and you change into a comfortably oversized royal blue cashmere sweater and a pair of leggings, ignoring the jeans Mat had pulled out of your drawer. He’s staring blatantly at you as you dress, grinning when he notices that you don’t bother with a bra. You wink at him, teasing, “I know that backseat of yours is very spacious.”
Mat’s laugh is contagious and you giggle along with him. “Babe, I’ll let you do whatever you want in the backseat of my car,” he waggles his eyebrows at you, catching your foot when you kick it up at him to put on your socks. He tickles the arch of your foot gently as he pulls a pair of his own thick Nike socks on your feet and lets them bunch up over your leggings.
You wiggle your toes in the warm socks, squirming when Mat captures your ankle and tugs gently to drag you down the bed. “Whatever I want?” You ask on a breathless giggle, letting him pull you to your feet and crash against his chest.
“Anything but eating Goldfish back there,” Mat shakes his head at you, both of you remembering the time you’d been babysitting the Martin girls and Winnie had asked for her snack sized bag of Goldfish to be squished into crumbs since they “taste better” that way and then had dumped the entire bag out on your lap when she was trying to share.
“That was an accident!” You protest, distracted by Mat’s warm hands snaking under the hem of your sweater and dancing over the soft skin of your lower back. “She was sharing. We’re supposed to be encouraging sharing, Mat!”
Mat snorts. “Only because you asked for a Goldfish,” he kisses your cheek, “now come on. We’re going to miss the sunrise.” He taps against your lower back and you wiggle against him.
You’re awake now, but you still try and convince him to get back in bed, “sure you don’t want to just undress me under the covers instead?”
“Later,” Mat promises, tugging at the waistband of your leggings and spurring you into following him down the stairs. You snag your phone off its charging pad on the way out and nearly fumble the tube of Summer Fridays lip balm when you lunge back at the last second for it too.
Downstairs, Mat grabs his keys out of the little bowl on the hall table and you shove your feet into a battered pair of Ugg Tasmans, going for maximum comfort. Mat pulls on a pair of Nikes and you follow him out the door, sighing when you see how dark it still is.
“Can I guarantee at least two orgasms for myself?” You ask, climbing into the passenger seat of Mat’s Defender. “It’s criminally early.”
You look over your shoulder and see that Mat’s already pushed down the second row of seats and the car is full of pillows and blankets to nest in while you watch the sunrise. A delighted smile curls your lips and Mat laughs at you when he gets behind the wheel.
“You literally begged me to take you to see the sunrise,” he reminds you, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He plays with the radio, finding your preset Taylor Swift Sirius station and you smile happily, kicking off your Uggs and pulling your feet up onto the seat.
“I forget it’s so early in the summer,” you laugh lightly, humming along to ‘Paper Rings.’ You reach your arm out and rest your hand on the nape of Mat’s neck, scratching your nails lightly into his hair, letting the silky strands curl around your fingers. He hasn’t cut it yet and you begged him to let it grow a little longer during the summer, just until Ethan’s wedding in July. Luckily for you, Mat agreed, mostly because he loves when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull when he’s going down on you. Now, Mat’s shoulders drop and you can feel his body relax under your touch. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Robert Moses,” Mat replies, merging onto the Meadowbrook. Despite the early hour, a car nearly sideswipes you as you merge in and Mat lays on the horn, shouting through the closed window. You wince, fingers freezing in place on Mat’s neck.
“I hate the Meadowbrook,” you mutter. “Meanwhile, where was he going? It’s literally five in the morning.”
“It’s also Monday,” Mat reminds you, grinning when you resume scratching at his scalp. “People are going to work.”
You hum a little laugh, “right, the employed, upstanding citizens making the rest of us bums look bad.” The parkway opens up now though, the road clear in front of you and you zone out a bit while staring at the sky as it lightens. The music changes and you mumble-sing along, tapping your socked foot against the leather seat. Mat’s fingers alternate between tapping against the steering wheel and clenching it so hard his knuckles go white. You turn your head to look at him, studying the line of his jaw and the stubble that he’s letting grow in for a few days before he’ll decide to shave again. His hair curls around his ears and you run your fingers through it, brushing your fingertips over the hinge of his jaw.
His lips tilt up in a smile even as his eyes stay on the road. “Enjoying the view?” He teases and you giggle.
“Yeah, actually I am,” you murmur. “Call it sleep deprivation, but I can’t stop staring at you right now.” You angle your body towards Mat’s, still studying his face. “I love you,” you say on a little sigh, never tired of the way his ears go a little pink when you say those three words.
“Fuck yeah, same,” he replies, smirking a bit before laughing at the inside joke. You wrinkle your nose at him, thinking about that first confession - both of you drunk out of your minds, Mat holding you up while you danced on the beach, half of his teammates partying around you in the late July warmth. Influenced by High Noons and beers mixed with too much tequila, your hangover the next day had only been worsened when you remembered the way you slurred the three words into his ear and his response, three different words. But tangled together on the oversized couch in Matt and Sydney’s Hamptons home, with the sunlight nearly blinding you and the sounds of the waves breaking, Mat had pulled you close to his chest and buried his face in your hair and mumbled, “for the record, I love you too.”
From there it had been a wild year, so much fun and excitement, mingled with the heartbreak of missing the playoffs and the month-long break you’d taken after a blowup fight.
Before you can linger too much on the past, Mat pulls off the Meadowbrook and navigates the traffic circle to merge onto Ocean Parkway. You roll down the window to get the ocean breeze into the car, inhaling deeply. “God, I love the smell of the ocean,” you sigh, wiggling happily in your seat. “I miss the days they would prescribe going to the shore for your health.”
Mat’s laugh fills the car, “you already spend more time at the beach than any other person I know! Who takes four mile walks on the sand in the middle of January?”
“I’m a summer baby, Mathew,” you sniff haughtily, tugging gently on the piece of hair twirled around your fingers. “I need my designated beach time to thrive.”
“You’re crazy, that’s what you are,” Mat says, but his tone is laced with affection. “Hopefully this morning fills the quota for when we’re up in Vancouver.”
“We’ll see,” you laugh, the car bouncing slightly as Mat takes the turn off the road and navigates the Defender into the sand. The sky is lightening slowly and you’re still ten minutes away from actual sunrise, so it’s perfect timing. He situates the car so the front is facing west and turns it off, turning to grin at you.
“Ready for a show?” He asks, tossing the keys into the cup holder and reaching up to lace his fingers with yours.
You nod, wide awake now and excited to cross something off your summer bucket list. “Let’s get cozy,” you lean over the console and press your lips to his in a quick kiss before shifting onto your knees and climbing over the console into the back of the car, head first and nearly kicking Mat in the head with a stray foot. He’s laughing behind you, tugging at your ankles.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to get out of the car?” He’s opening his door, half out onto the sand as he talks.
You’re perched happily in the pile of blankets when May pulls open the hatch, exposing the full view of the beach and eastern horizon. He’s backlit by the rising sun and you reach for him, wiggling your fingers to encourage him to climb into the expanded backseat with you. “My way was more fun,” you chirp when he climbs in, kicking his sneakers off and leaving them in the sand.
“Crazy,” he mutters, scooting you to the side so he can wedge in behind you. His elbow bangs against something and makes a sort of thunking noise.
“What’s that?” You settle in between Mat’s legs, resting your back against his chest.
He leans a little to the side and tugs at one of the blankets, exposing the Yeti cooler that usually lives in your garage while it waits for summertime. “Breakfast,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Ohhh,” you grin, angling your head back so you can see Mat’s face, “you’re really gunning for boyfriend of the year, huh?”
“How’re my odds looking?” Mat flips open the lid of the cooler and pulls out a snack sized bottle of Tropicana, holding the bottle in front of you while he cracks the top. You take it from him with a quiet, ‘thanks’ and sip at it. His thighs are firm against the outside of yours, warmth radiating off his body.
“Holding onto a solid second place,” you tease, knocking your knee against his.
Mat cracks open his own bottle of orange juice and knocks back half off it before replying, “second? Jesus, what’s my competition like?”
You shift a little, angling so your shoulder is slightly pressed against his chest and Mat’s left arm is draped over your shoulder, one big hand inching closer to cupping your breast. “Well,” you hum, tapping the lid of your orange juice against your lower lip, “Andrew Price did save the last cherry BlowPop for me back in first grade. I thought that was very gentlemanly.”
“You’re a menace,” Mat grumbles against the top of your head, flicking at the side of your breast with his index finger. You jolt and giggle, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers.
“Yeah, and?” Mat’s foot hooks over yours and you lean to the side, resting your elbow against one of the pillows piled around your bodies. “You planned all this, so you must love me.”
“Against my better judgement,” Mat teases. You look up at him again, pouting and wrinkling your nose, making him smile and lean down to plant a quick kiss on your pout. Humming happily, you rest your cheek against his arm and go quiet, watching the sun slowly rise over the horizon, coloring the sky in gorgeous pastels. Mat’s chin rests on the top of your head and his other arm comes around to wrap around your stomach, keeping you held tightly against his chest.
The waves crash against the sand and you zone out a little watching them, breathing in the ocean air and feeling your entire body relax. Your stomach grumbles quietly, a little vibration that you hope Mat can’t hear. He chuckles and you roll your eyes. “You can move up the boyfriend rankings if you’ve got a cherry BlowPop in that cooler,” you murmur.
Mat shifts behind you, unwrapping his arm from a round your stomach and leaning to the side, taking your body with him. “Even better,” he says, the crinkling of a bag echoing in the small space. You look over just as he withdraws the cream and gold pastry bag from one of your favorite bakeries. “Almond croissant from French Workshop,” he continues, displaying the bag in front of your face with a flourish.
“Ooh!” You perk up, leaning forward to pluck the bag from Mat’s hand. You can smell the buttery pastry and your stomach grumbles again. “Okay, you’re officially in the number one boyfriend spot. I don’t think there’s anything better than almond croissants at sunrise on the beach.”
Mat pulls a second bag from the cooler and you sniff out the scent of Nutella, which only widens your grin. Mat doesn’t have too much of a sweet tooth, except when it comes to Nutella. You’re constantly buying the little snack packs for him to get a quick energy hit.
“Nothing at all?” Mat teases you while you shift in his lap, turning so your back is resting against the side of the car and your legs are draped over his thigh. He takes a bite of his croissant, flaky crumbs landing on your leggings before he brushes them off with a casual hand.
Around a bite of your own treat, you hum. “Nothing I can think of,” you retort cheekily after swallowing.
You shriek and wriggle around when Mat’s fingers tickle your side, your stomach hurting as you laugh loudly and wildly. Mat’s body is on top of yours, nearly flat against the floor of the trunk, croissant crumbs all around you. “Mat, no! Stooop,” you whine, laughing and trying to fight off the onslaught.
“Take it back,” he laughs, peppering your cheeks and neck with kisses. “Say I’m better than breakfast pastries.” He nips at the edge of your jaw.
You hook your legs around Mat’s waist and bump your hips up against his, trying to distract him but all it does is make you hotter for him, heat flushing up your chest. Mat grins against your neck, fingers slowing a little, but still pressing into all the spots that he knows are vulnerable.
“Mercy,” you choke out on a laugh, tugging at Mat’s hair, breathless.
He presses a final kiss to the pulse point on your neck and then his fingers are smoothing over your skin, fingertips gentle as they draw goosebumps in their wake. “I’m taking that as a win,” he informs you, leaning on his forearm so his full weight isn’t on top of you.
You lean up and capture his lower lip between your teeth, biting down a little sharply and tugging. Mat groans into your mouth and you shiver, the noise vibrating down your spine. “Only,” you pull away, your back resting on the floor of the trunk again, “because you play with dirty tactics.”
“Gotta take the wins where I can get them, Squeaks,” he laughs, rolling back onto his side and then sitting up, taking you with him so you’re straddling his lap, the top of your head grazing the roof of the car. You lean down and graze your lips over Mat’s, grinding down a little on his half-hard cock. He grunts in the back of his throat, gripping your hips to keep you in place.
“I’m missing the sunrise,” you chirp, pecking him quickly before wiggling off his lap and settling against his chest again. “You distracted me, back down to number two boyfriend.”
By now, the sun is mostly over the horizon, the sky bright and promising a gorgeous weather day ahead. You pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping an arm around your knees, while you watch the sky change colors. It’s so peaceful and your shoulders relax, the stress of the last few weeks of the regular season and the first round of playoffs dissipating. You’re looking forward to the summer, to getting to spend some real time with Mat. He shifts behind you - you sway to the side a little when he reaches for the cooler again and then back when he adjusts his position, his legs bending at the knee to bracket your body. A breeze off the ocean makes you shiver and press harder against Mat’s body, the hard ridge of his collarbone pressing against the back of your head.
He hums in your ear, breath kissing your cheek when he murmurs, “number two boyfriend, but how about number one fiancé?”
You blink, your brain processing the words, and he reaching around your body to rest his hand on your knee, a black velvet box held loosely in his fingers. You stare at the little box, barely comprehending what’s happening. Mat’s thumb taps carefully against the seam between the two halves of the box, his thumbnail wedged into the spot so he can flick it open at any second.
“What?” The syllable is barely a breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel his cheeks rise with a smile against your temple. “Mat…” your voice is shaky, nervous excitement making your tone higher pitched than usual.
He taps the box against your knee and you immediately move, turning so you’re facing Mat, kneeling in between his legs. He’s got your favorite crooked smile on his face and when his features go a little blurry, you realize you’ve got tears in your eyes.
When he starts talking, Mat’s voice is a little wobbly too. He clears his throat twice before he manages to say, “you know I, uh, usually have a lot to say.”
A laugh slips out of your mouth and you cover your lips with a trembling hand. He grins at you even wider, showing off all his teeth.
“But,” he continues, fingers fidgeting with the box, “I thought about what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you, and I… couldn’t think of anything.”
Your heart pounds behind your ribs, tears falling freely down your cheeks.
“There was just too much I wanted to tell you,” he says, leaning up on his knees so you’re both kneeling in the trunk of the car. His hair rubs against the roof of the car and gets a little staticky, sticking up in all directions. “Every single time I tried to come up with a speech, all I could get down was how much I fucking love you. Every single day that you’ve been in my life, you’ve made it better. Even on my worst days, you’re the bright spot.”
“Mat,” you gasp his name softly, mouth still covered by your hands. “Oh my god!”
“I want to have a million more days with you,” he says softly, leaning forward and popping the lid open on the ring box. You were so focused on what he was saying, you barely realized that he hadn’t even shown you the ring. It’s gorgeous, a big oval diamond sparkling in the early morning light filtering in through the windows and open trunk. No smaller diamonds surrounding it on the band so the focus is just on how perfect the diamond is. You cry harder because it’s perfect, simple and stunning and everything that you’ve ever wanted in an engagement ring.
Mat cups your cheek with his free hand and you look up at him, nodding and laughing and babbling an answer to a question he technically hasn’t even asked yet.
Off of his own laughter, because he realizes that you’re giving him the answer he was expecting, Mat asks, “will you marry me? Give me all the best days and -“
He’s cut off when you shout a ‘yes!’ and throw yourself against his chest, arms around his neck and mouth covering his in fervent, excited kisses. In between peppering his face in kisses, you keep repeating “yes, yes, oh my god! Mat! I love you so much.”
Mat’s arms are tight around your back, keeping you held close to his chest, and he laughs against your mouth, entire face scrunched up with happiness while you kiss him. “Want your ring?” He mumbles the question, words muffled by your mouth on his.
You lean back in his arms, eyes wide and still glassy with tears, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please!” You hold out your left hand and Mat slides the ring home - a perfect fit. The sunlight glitters off the diamond as you twist your hand in the air, a stupid grin on your face. “Mat, god, it’s gorgeous. Holy shit, I love you.”
His laughter fills the air and he presses a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Aren’t you glad I woke you up this morning?” He teases, bracing an arm around your lower back so he can sit back on his ass and you can straddle his lap. No chance you’re letting go of him just yet.
“Oh yeah,” you nod like a bobble head, still looking at the ring on your finger. It’s surreal, you’re engaged to Mat, you’re going to be his wife! He’s going to be your husband! “Best reason for an early morning wake up.” A wild giggle bubbles up in your chest. “I can’t believe it, we’re engaged!”
You cup his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face to yours for a kiss, your lips turned up in a permanent grin. Mat rests his forehead against yours when you break apart, your hands still holding his face.
“One more surprise,” he tells you.
“There’s a bottle of champagne in that cooler?” You joke, brushing the tip of your nose against his.
“Okay,” Mat chuckles, “two more surprises.”
“Lay it on me, you big romantic,” you wiggle happily on his lap, the fizzy excitement of Mat’s proposal making you feel a little lightheaded.
Mat’s hands trace a lazy path up and down your sides, slipping under your sweater and ghosting over your warm skin until his fingertips are brushing the undersides of your breasts, making you inhale sharply and arch into his touch. “Y’know how we’re going to visit my parents in a few days?” He asks, turning his head so he can kiss your palm.
It’s hard to concentrate with his hands on your body, but you manage a faint nod.
“We’re taking a little detour to Punta Cana first,” Mat says, punctuating his words with a kiss to your lips. “I wanted to make sure I got to see my gorgeous fiancée in a skimpy little white bikini as soon as possible after proposing.”
“Oh, do you?” You giggle, kissing his cheek. “When do we leave?”
Mat lifts his left wrist up so he can look at his watch. He squints at the face and you can see him doing the mental math before he says, “like thirteen hours?”
“Seriously?” You lean back, face scrunched up, shocked at the quick departure. “You must’ve been really convinced that I was going to say yes,” you tease.
“I know that you’re nuts for me,” Mat smirks, leaning forward to kiss the argument right out of your mouth, his fingers expertly twisting over your nipple and making you melt in his lap, pliant and horny. He licks into your mouth and you lean closer against his chest, pressing Mat back against the back of the passenger seat, the heat of his cock pressing against your core while you rock over his lap.
While you’re making out like horny teenagers, Mat’s phone vibrates incessantly in the cup holder in the center console. Mat laughs into your mouth and breaks away with a gasp, “that’ll be everyone waiting to see what you said.”
Licking at your swollen, chapped lips, you reach around Mat and grab his phone, the screen lit up with dozens of messages. “Did you tell everyone that you were proposing?” You ask, scanning the messages from the guys and spotting a few from Sydney too.
“Uh, yeah?” Mat plucks his phone from your hands. “I needed Syd and Holly to pack your bag for you and I liked the positive encouragement. You would not believe how many wife guys are in that locker room.”
“I believe it,” you assure him, beaming and holding your left hand up by your face when he turns the camera on you. “Selfie time, Mr. Barzal.”
You smush your cheek right next to his, matching cheesy grins on your faces when Mat snaps the picture, sending it off to the group chat. You tuck your face into Mat’s neck, breathing quietly and inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
“Hey,” you murmur against his skin, getting his attention, “I’m really excited to be your wife.”
Mat’s chin knocks gently against your forehead. “I’m really excited to be your husband,” he replies, hugging you to his chest. “Ready to start FaceTiming everyone?”
“Hmm,” you hum, brushing your nose against Mat’s neck, “can it just be us for a few more minutes?”
“Yeah, it can,” Mat agrees, tossing his phone back into the driver’s seat and tangling his legs with yours. He plays with the ring on your finger, running his thumb over the band. The diamond catches the sunlight and you watch it sparkle, casting rainbows on the roof of the car.
The waves keep crashing and now there are some seagulls making noise outside too.
Mat’s heart beats steadily at your back and it’s the perfect way to start the next chapter in your lives.
357 notes · View notes
soapiemomorphine · 1 year
Text
My Rottmnt Separated Au!// Masterpost
(*Dj Khalid voice *: Another one ) (scroll to bottom for links to other posts)
This one’s called:
How I Met Our Brothers
And it’s an au of my own inspired by all the greats, like @daedelweiss @dianagj-art @trubblegumm @red-rover-au and more! (Seriously go follow their blogs)
Mainly by @trubblegumm and by the feral Leo from @cupcakeslushie , and you’ll soon why
With out further ado;
DRUMROLL PLEASE DUN DUNNUNUUUUHHHHH
(Also dont worry ab my chicken scratch I have it all written down lol)
Tumblr media
(Click for better quality lol)
Since my writing’s shit (lol) here’s the transcript for what I wrote: the character descriptions first, then the pluses from top to bottom
Donatello Hamato:
Raised by Splinter/Hamato Yoshi/Lou Jitsu in the sewers under Brooklyn
Started looking for his bros after his dad told him about them
Met April when he was 9 (she was 11)
He met Leo when they were both 11
Baron Michelangelo:
(I hc that Baron is a title, not a name; like Lord or Lady, so Mikey inherited Draxum’s title)
He’s been training to be a mystic warrior since he was born
Muninn (the one with a larger body and the underbite) wanted him to be named Angel, Huginn (the one with a larger head and overbite) wanted him to be Michael, so they compromised with the perfect name (don’t tell Draxum they saw it in a human pamphlet )
Raised by Draxum alone until he was seven
At 7 y/o he met Raph and ever since both Big Mama and Baron Draxum have joint custody over them
BM and BD raise them like a divorced couple, they alternate houses weekly and they celebrate each holiday twice, (Big Mama and Draxum only come together for their b-days)
Besties with Raph and Cass, (met Cass when he was 10, she was 13)
Rapheal Jitsu :
Training to be a mystic warrior since he was 9
Big Mama named him what she and Splinter would have named their first son; (he proposed to her, you can’t tell me that they didn’t talk ab baby names)
Big Mama was not the only secretive one in the relationship, she didn’t know what Splinter’s real last name was, (and as a gang leader she doesn’t use her name anymore) so yes, Jitsu is Raph’s legal last name
Met Mikey when he was 9 y/o
BM and BD raise them like a divorced couple, they alternate houses weekly and they celebrate each holiday twice, (Big Mama and Draxum only come together for their b-days)
Besties with Mike and Cass, (met Cass when he was 12, she was 13)
??????? —> Leonardo Hamato:
He grew up in the sewers in Staten Island, the one who brought him there was *REDACTED*
Staten Island is full on awful people, so nobody took him in, and he learned to fear people
Donnie found him, and named him Leonardo and gave him his birthday, making him 11
Other Info:
+ because Leonardo was hella malnourished as a growing young lad, Donnie ended up being the 2nd tallest by the time of the movie
+Splinter became more proactive in Donnie’s life ever since he lost sight of the other three brothers and became more proactive in his training when he met April because he’s more paranoid than he is in the show
+Don didn’t really care for Leo (he was comfortable as an only child and Leo changed his routine), until Leo got deathly sick and nearly died
+Big Mama and Draxum (somewhat) reformed only b/c Mikey and Raph would cry and throw tantrums (they won the moral argument slay) when they would talk ab their plans and beliefs (Draxum loves his children more that he hates humanity, and Big Mama finally learned how to love with Raph)
+Mama truly loved Splinter, but was insecure about him loving her as a Yokai (she had trust issues) and b/c her morals are hella skewed, it seemed like a great idea to keep him the only way she knew how, by putting him in Battle Nexus (and she makes bank with him there! In her mind it seemed like a win-win)
(Note: Big Mama’s and Splinter’s relationship will solely be as exes, because it would be hella unhealthy for Splints to trust her after she betrayed it like it. (They both lied to eachother during their relationship in this au) Their relationship in my comics and fanfics in this au will solely be as estranged exes, they will not be getting back together)
If this post gets like, at least 30 notes then ill post a comic on how Leo and Donnie met! (Edit: oh wow. U guys did it)
Lists of HIMOB Posts:
Disaster twins post
Sunset duo post
HIMOB Donnie meets the Canon Mad Dogs // Bonus Comic
Donnie and the Stranger: Part 1 // Part 2
The name Rapheal: Part 1 // Part 2
The Caretaker: Part 1 // TBC . . .
896 notes · View notes
beansprean · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Why is Stu working at a Sunoco in Staten Island, you say? Why don't u mind ya business! God forbid werewolves do anything.
My Familiar's Ghost part 8
Masterpost
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1. Wide shot of a Sunoco gas station at night, the pumps empty, an open sign glowing red at the door. In the foreground, Nandor and Colin are walking toward it, backs to the viewer. Colin, now wearing a wool coat, pipes up "Nandor, did you know if your hand is bigger than your face, you have cancer?" Nandor replies shortly, "I am a vampire, Colin Robinson, I cannot get the cancer." Colin responds, "Right. Can't be too careful, though."
2a. Close up of Colin doing a talking head. With a wry smile, he explains, "Yeah, I've been experimenting with early 2000s-based humor." 2b. His voiceover continues over the next panel: "My housemates seem mostly immune, but reminding millennials how old they are provides a remarkably quick drain." Overlayed in sepia, we see Colin in another scene, sitting next to a young woman on a bus. He looks at his phone and remarks, "Huh. Shrek was released 21 years ago today." The woman next to him immediately slumps over and slams her head against the bus window, fully asleep and drooling.
3a. Back at the Sunoco, Nandor and Colin have reached the door. Nandor grins triumphantly, pointing toward a sign that reads "Please come in!" Colin smiles and gives him a thumbs up. 3b. Shot from inside the Sunoco from behind the counter, showing a close up of an employee stocking cigarettes. The employee is a white man in his 40s with lank dark blonde hair and three large pink scars on his forehead and cheek. His name tag says "Stu". He glances over to the side as there is a loud rattling at the door, and offscreen we hear Nandor griping "I thought that would work! Fucking door!" Colin snaps back, "It says push!" Nandor just responds with an "Oh," and the door opens with a ding.
4a. Stu turns around to face the new customers, starting to say "Welcome to-" before Nandor leans in on the counter and cuts him off, wiggling his hand in front of Stu's face. Nandor uses his best hypnosis voice, speech bubble glowing green, to command "Smelly shop worker, you will tell me the whereabouts of the one called Eric-" "Derek," Colin corrects, sidling up to him with a patient smile. "Derek," Nandor finishes. 4b. Reverse shot, extreme closeup of Nandor and Colin in the foreground facing each other, Stu framed between their profiles in the background. Stu looks mildly perturbed but unhypnotized as he replies, "Oh, uh. I'm not allowed to give out employee information." Nandor hisses to Colin, "It's no use! He doesn't want to tell us!" Colin drawls back, "You're really crap at this hypnosis thing, huh?"
5a. Reverse shot, Colin says "Step aside for the pro," and plants a hand on Nandor's chest to move him back, stepping confidently in front to face Stu. Nandor looks ruffled but allows the switch. Colin points upwards and asks, "Say, is that a Panasonic WV-S3131L security camera? I prefer the Argo system myself. You really can't beat the 4K resolution..." 5b. Shot from behind Nandor's head as he waits, Colin and Stu conversing quietly with blank speech bubbles. 5c. Colin turns and rushes back over to Nandor, looking a little panicked as he explains, "Well, that didn't work. He was actually interested in what I was saying!" Nandor puts a hand to his chin thoughtfully and narrows his eyes at Stu, who is standing behind the counter staring at him with a question mark over his head. Nandor declares, "This guy is crafty...we need a new plan." /end ID
786 notes · View notes
mcufan72 · 3 months
Text
Sugar and Cinnamon
Tumblr media
Loki x female reader (AU) / 18+
Chapter 3
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff and smut (eventually), some teasing, sexual tension and some lustful feelings but I think it's still a slow-burn love story.
A/N: I had some struggles writing this down, it took me several days to get it right. Maybe this chapter still sounds better in my head than the written lines. But I hope you all like reading it.
A big thank you @poetic-fiasco 💚❤️ for a phrase you created in a completely different context (you know which phrase I mean) and for allowing me to use it. It's just two words but they fitted perfectly that evening 😅
Loki stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the large living room of his penthouse in Jersey City, New Jersey and enjoyed the first rays of sunshine in the morning. He loved the fantastic view from here over the Hudson River to the amazing skyline of Manhattan in the light of the rising sun. How far he had come. He still quarrelled with what he had done to this city and its inhabitants and the sick plans he had to rule this planet as their king. Fortunately, he got stopped right in time, further damage was prevented and after realizing his mistake, a mistake he made because he was being tortured and forced, he got the chance for redemption. He had made good use of it. The beast was annihilated in close combat and not at least because of his help and his extraordinary skills to talk, to lie, to trick, to use his magic and to fight.
In the beginning, many of the Avengers were wary and didn't trust him. But his brother never gave up on him, he never lost his trust in him or the love he had for him. Loki would always be grateful for it and yes, he loved his brother, too. Indeed. After many times in over ten years of proving his loyalty, his sense of justice, his negotiation skills and his will to fight for the right things, literally and figuratively, they all became friends, more or less, and since two years, mostly working as an ambassador and negotiator, he was allowed to live alone without any kind of “babysitting”. Of course, his brother still kept an eye on him and so did Tony Stark. But it became more and more a kind of visiting each other than controlling him. Loki was fine with that. He knew some things needed time to be forgiven and living under the radar when he came back to New York twelve years ago, under a fake name and in solitude, made things easier for him. People came to New York and also left this city again. It happens frequently in a metropolis with millions of population and also people forget easily in the fast pace and hectic of today's time. It also wouldn't be long anymore before he would have served his sentence and he would be free to go wherever he wanted.
While watching the first Staten Island Ferries launching for the Statue of Liberty and just clothed in black sweatpants, one hand in his pocket and a mug of coffee in his other hand, he was thinking of you. He still felt your body and your warmth in his arms. He shouldn't. He decided to live alone, unattached to a woman. He had his brother and his friends and that was already more than he deserved. Also, love and relationships never ended well for him and he was tired of getting his heart broken over and over again. Maybe a sinner like him with blood-drenched hands didn't deserve the love and affection of a woman at all. He was fine with only having sexual affairs from time to time with faceless, nameless women to satisfy his carnal needs.
But it has been a while now since he had a woman tangled in his bedsheets and getting a lusty distraction from his loneliness. He'd love to have physical contact again but not with another faceless woman. If he would share a bed with someone again it had to be you. You had entered his life and he couldn't get you out of his head. He loved your appearance, which was surely a fassade or sort of a costume, he was well aware of that. If there was someone who could relate to it, it was him. There was much more he liked about you, the lovely and decent woman behind that masquerade. He had already seen some tiny little glimpses of the real you, who were shoved into a situation you seemingly never wanted. He liked your attitude, sassy and cute, you were eloquent and smart. You knew what you wanted and what you did not want.
The little mistake you had made at the dining table didn't bother him at all. Nobody is perfect and he knew exactly what he was talking about. It just made you more adorable. But how realistic was his wish to sleep with you? You had made it very clear that you weren't interested in getting sexually involved with him. And he had told you the same. And wouldn't it be inconsequential to change his mind now? He also struggled with the ‘sex-only’-thing when it came to you. Didn't you deserve more and better? You shouldn't sleep with someone like him. Knee-deep in blood, sin and guilt. Guilty of murder. Guilty of having tried to conquer a planet and subjugate the people of Earth against their will. Your people. If you knew his real identity you would hate him. Abysmal hate from the bottom of your heart perhaps. You were an angel and he was the sinner. Heaven and hell. You two had nothing in common, nothing was binding you. You were his escort, his distraction. His distraction from pain and loneliness. And he was just your client, one of many who paid you for your service, who paid the money you urgently needed for who knows what. But he hated that other men touched you, and spent time with you. He knew his blood-drenched hands weren't worthy to touch you at all but other men weren't worthy to touch you either.
Damn, he shouldn't have danced with you. Because now he wanted the feeling of you in his arms over and over again. Yes, it did things to him and that evening, when he physically was so close to you it wasn't easy for him to suppress an erection. But this urge to hold you in his arms again wasn't just sexual. He wanted to feel your warmth, your closeness again and not least he wanted to enjoy your company again. And he wanted to take care of you. A care you surely wouldn't want or need. He didn't deserve you but he wanted you, wanted to be with you, no matter what and he must find a way to avoid that other men would ever lay an eye or a hand on you or take advantage of you.
All of this was the reason why he wanted to book you for next Saturday. He had already sent an email to your agency promptly after your first date and expected the confirmation for the appointment during the day. He would go to the opening of a small art gallery with you, an event he actually didn't want to go to. He didn't really like to go to exclusively social events without a business background. He had decided otherwise now because it was a perfect reason for booking you to escort him to this event …and to see you again. You came into his life and only then he realized how utterly lonely he was. Maybe at least it hadn't been a good decision to live a life in solitude. Should he ask you for a shared night? Would you agree? Would it be too soon and too offensive to ask you? If you'd agree to share the bed with him, you’d have to follow some of his rules because there was still this one thing he could never let you know.
Besides all of this, he would give you all the money you needed without getting anything from you but it seemed you would never take his money without giving something in return. He was sure you wouldn't even ask him for money and you probably had good reasons for it. Loki took a sip of his coffee, reached for a random book on his impressive bookshelf and tried to distract himself by reading a few lines. He made himself comfortable on his sofa and began to read. It didn't work. His thoughts always drifted back to you.
**********************
What should you do now? You sat at the table in your apartment, your lunch untouched on a plate next to you. You weren't hungry. There was a lump in your stomach and it took away your appetite. How should you manage all of this? Your studies, the bills, the increased rent for your apartment and your mum's nursing home, visiting her on Sundays, daily dates with men you had to escort to functions, and from now on appointments for the weekends, too. You should focus on your studies and finish your degree to get back to a serious, well-paid job again. You didn't want to work as an escort lady for the rest of your life. But your study was so expensive that you ran out of money sooner than expected. You still had some saved money but you needed it for something else so you wouldn't touch it.
There have been times when you had all the money and possibilities to afford an apartment like this, your mum's nursing home and the care for her, and a nice life with all its amenities. And because of one silly mistake your whole life crashed down. But maybe you didn't deserve it any better. You sat in front of your laptop and stared at the files of your bank statement and your busy schedule. Now there were some options. There were just two if you were being honest. You could twist and squirm all you want, you wouldn't earn enough money, not even as an escort. You could move into a much cheaper and even smaller apartment which wouldn't be easy in Manhattan, unless you liked to live in a rathole. But you had to try it and in the worst case, you would live in a rathole, for heaven's sake. Also, you could earn some more money a bit faster if you…the thought made you cringe but you had to do it, you had no other choice. But there was only this one man imaginable for you, the one who had told you, he only wanted to be escorted by you and nothing more. And after that dumb mistake at your first real appointment with him, you had been sure you would never see him again. Luke Larsson was a man who didn't accept unprofessionalism. And yet he had been very nice to you and you appreciated it.
You took a sip of your coffee and calculated your financial issues for the umpteenth time. It was to despair. Would you ever find a way out of this fucked up situation? Sometimes you wished you could go back to your little village in the south of Great Britain, back into your little happy bubble, far away from trouble, bad news and harsh reality. Back to the times when you baked cinnamon rolls with your mum every Sunday afternoon. Life was peaceful there but those times were over. Welcome to reality!
Taking another sip of your coffee, you were closing the laptop lid, when a pling was signalling an incoming email. You opened the laptop lid completely again and opened the mail. It was from Rhea. She had promised to send you the further details of Luke's next appointment with you.
Hey dear,
I hope you're doing well. As promised earlier, here's the update for your appointment with Mr. Larsson.
It's on Saturday afternoon and I hope this fits your schedule. It's a gallery opening so I hope this information helps to choose the right clothing appropriate to the occasion.
Mr. Larsson will wait for you at the gallery, Walker will drive you there. He'll pick you up at your home at 3 pm. If you have any further questions, feel free to call me and please mail me your confirmation for this appointment so I can inform Mr Larsson.
PS: please remember the date with Mr Rogers tonight. I'm sorry that he had booked you at short notice. Have fun!
Take care, dear
Rhea
Luke had booked you again. He really wanted you to escort him again and you still couldn't believe it. Thank goodness he was not resentful and hadn't told Rhea about your stupid mistake. He gave you a second chance and you looked forward to seeing him again but you felt nervous at the same time. Things were getting real now. Should you offer him your advanced service? He didn't flirt, that's what he made very clear to you but the way he danced with you and looked at you has been very close to it. And it felt good. You barely remembered when it was the last time someone had looked at you like he did that evening.
Anyway, will he say yes? Why should he say yes and also pay for it? He could have any woman he wanted, they surely lined up at his door to spend a night of debauched passion with him. This man was pure sex. Women probably fling themselves at him daily. Your heart clenched painfully when you pictured him with other women, more lovable and more desirable than you. But you had no right to judge him or the other women for it. You had no right to think and feel like that. At least he was a man with carnal needs. You didn't have an exclusive right to meet him. It was the other way around, he decided if he wanted you to escort him or not. You should better be grateful that Luke wanted to meet you again.
You should give it a try and offer him to sleep with you. Couldn't be that difficult. It was just sex, right? You never cared much about sex, you never understood what the fuss was all about. Your exes never had much patience with you when you needed a bit longer to feel satisfied and maybe you had always been the problem. So what. A quick fuck, in and out and in between moaning a little horny and he would be done in three minutes. You were good at faking orgasms. Pretending you enjoy it as much as he does shouldn't be that difficult for you. He wouldn't even notice it, men never noticed. You always thought you would be too decent for that, having sex with a client but you had already fallen so deep…and fuck decency. Life gave a shit about it…so why should you!
For now, you should focus on your next date tonight, Mr.Rogers. You would meet him at a dancing hall. You like dancing and for now, it would be a good distraction from your current problems. It seemed a bit old-fashioned to go to a dancing bar where they played old classics from the 40's and 50’s but you were sure you would've fun and a decent gentleman at your side tonight. And after tonight you had just one more date and then it would already be Saturday, when you would see Luke again. A little smile curved your lips and you headed to the bathroom to get ready for tonight. It was time for Sugar's performance.
Your date for Friday night got cancelled. You were already waiting at Vivian's Velvet and having your obligatory glass of champagne at the bar when Rhea sent you a message. Your client got ill but maybe he just changed his mind. It didn't happen very often but it happened. Well, you had a free evening now, and you still got paid because it wasn't your fault the date was cancelled so you had some time to think about some rules and boundaries for sexual intercourse with clients. Or should you better say, rules for having sex with Luke? There were definitely some things you wouldn't do and you should be well prepared for a clarifying conversation. No perverse shit, no hard-core sex and the most important thing: no kisses! And falling in love is strictly forbidden, for both sides. Sex only!
You would never fall for a client and you would never fall for Luke Larsson. Not for his stupid, soft obsidian curls, not for his broad shoulders, his strong arms or his long legs, not for his incredible charm, or his beautiful eyes, not for his devastating smile, no matter how handsome he was or how fast he made your heart beating. He was your client and that's all he'll ever be.
On Saturday morning you've gotten up early to have enough time for grocery shopping, doing the dishes and cleaning up your messy apartment. Books and papers for your studies and clothes, your normal ones and those you had worn for your dates, were spread all over the floor, chairs, the table and the sofa. The daily appointments on weekdays had a deep impact on your daily routine. You were so tired sometimes that you didn't have the energy to clean everything up daily. And from now on you won't have the weekends either to relax a little bit. So you were in a hurry now because your appointment was already in the afternoon today and you still had to shower and prepare yourself for the gallery opening. You weren't sure if you were ready to ask Luke if he wanted to sleep with you but you'd definitely ask him. The pressure to earn more money quickly was getting higher and you've come to terms with it that you had to expand your service.
After showering you looked through your closet to find an adequate outfit for a gallery opening. You decided to go for an elegant, refined trouser suit in pastel pink, combined with a white blouse with a deep neckline, and white high heels. Underneath you wore white lace underwear. You loved this sexy set of bra and thong but it let you look more innocent than you were. You hoped Luke would like it, in case he would accept your offer tonight. With your hair in a tight bun with the knot deep in your neck and dark pink lipstick on your lips, Sugar was ready to meet Mr Larsson.
Walker drove you to the gallery where Luke was already waiting for you. Walker got out of the limousine but Loki gestured to him that he wanted to open the door for you. The moment you got out of the backseat and took the hand he was offering you, you were directly under his spell again. He looked so dapper and seductive in his suit which was midnight blue, combined with a tight-fitting white shirt, its collar open, his beautiful neck on perfect display. His look was completed by black Oxfords and a silk scarf around his neck. The scarf shimmered in the darkest shades of blue and green you had ever seen. The scent of his cologne was alluring and you wanted to bury your nose into his soft hair that framed his incredibly beautiful face perfectly. Indeed, he was a god in a suit or maybe he was the devil himself. A handsome devil, seductively hot, ready to take you with him into his den of desire, ready to burn with you in hell. Damn it, your imagination was running too wild.
“Good afternoon, Sugar. Thank you for coming. I'm glad to see you and you look beautiful again”, he greeted you gentlemanly and you came back to reality.
“Good afternoon, Luke. Thank you for your compliment…I think I look a bit like candy floss…,” you answered jokingly and turned in a circle once, a big grin on your face.
“Sorry, I don't quite understand…” Loki said and looked quizzically at you. For him you looked lovely, like a beautiful, sexy angel.
“Candy floss, it's mostly pastel pink and… made of sugar… nah, forget it, it was a bad joke,” you smiled at him and shook your head lightly and Loki smiled back at you. He looked so pretty when he smiled. “Thank you for booking me again. It's a pleasure to accompany you to the opening.” you continued kindly.
“Don't worry, it wasn't a bad joke. I just don't know what candyfloss is and to me, you look beautiful,” he told you. It was what he honestly thought and he could imagine that you probably taste sweet like sugar. “I hope you like art?”
“Oh yes, I do. I'm already excited to have a look at all of the artwork.” You replied genuinely and Loki smiled contentedly at you.
“Then let's go inside,” and he offered you his arm which you took gratefully. It felt so good to touch him.
Inside, you two were greeted by a middle-aged beautiful woman who was the gallery owner and an old friend of Tony Stark. She gave you a short introduction to the artworks in her gallery and that you should feel free to get drinks, canapés and sweets from the buffet. Just from the way she looked at Luke, you could tell she was enchanted by him and you couldn't blame her for it. But you felt something inside of you you should better not feel at all. It felt as if she would take him away from you and he wasn't even a friend of yours. You should better not forget what you were for him. You were his escort, something like a fake date and he was your client. While he was still in conversation with different people who seemed to know him, you strolled through the exhibition until you stood in front of a painting you couldn't keep your eyes off.
*************
Loki tried to end the several conversations he was drawn into, quickly because you were already on your way through the gallery and he wanted to spend the time with you and not with random guests who came to the opening. First, he couldn't find you, there were so many people in there but around the next corner, he finally found you.
You stood in front of a painting you couldn't stop staring at. A painting with a golden elegant vase filled to the brim with all sorts of wildflowers, tulips, roses, daffodils, lilies, and peonies, loosely arranged in it. As elegant as the vase was, as wild and untamed were the flowers. Loki couldn't stop staring at you and enjoying the view of the woman he began to care about. It touched him how fascinated you stared at the painting and how you were able to zone out the world around you. You literally bathed in the effect of the picture which it obviously had on you. He gave you further moments of enjoyment before he walked towards you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
“Do you like it?” He asked you politely
“Yes,... it's beautiful. I don't know why, it's just…the flowers, the colours…it just put a spell on me. The flowers are pure life, colourful, beautiful, wild but destined to wither and die because they got cut but still…they are pure beauty and I can literally smell their various wonderful scents.” You were still captivated when you whispered under your breath so Loki couldn't hear it “... and they remind me of home…like your British accent…”
“Yeah, it attracts us, it's winning us all over whether we want it or not. Some things have this effect on us,” he replied and walked closer to you.
Loki had an idea why you liked the painting that much. The motif reminded him of you: elegant and pretty as the vase, and wonderful, wild, free, untamed and colourful as the flowers. But if he would paint this picture of you right now, the vase would lay shattered on the floor and the flowers were crushed and stepped on, everything broken and sad. That's what he saw whenever he looked into your eyes and he wished he could help you with more than just his money.
“Is that so, Luke?” and you turned towards him.
“What do you mean? “ He looked at you from above. He was so tall and so close to you. It was now or never. You knew if you wouldn't do it now, your courage would leave you faster than you could imagine.
“What is it that attracts you?” and your one hand softly caressed his outer thigh, travelled upwards over his really adorable butt, kneading it gently, and then farther upwards to the waistband of his trousers. Your actions went straight to his cock which twitched against the confinement of his slacks. Your gaze was pure seduction and your hand on his body was hot like fire. He grabbed your wrist at lightning speed.
“What are you doing there, Sugar?” he murmured darkly, frowning.
“Testing the waters. Testing if you're really not interested in flirting. I can feel some…tension between us, if you know what I mean,” you whispered and your gaze wandered down from his eyes over his lips and his body to his visible bulge. Were you really capable of doing this to him? Or did he just get hard because you might promise him a quicky? Your gazing down at his manhood didn't go unnoticed by Loki. What were you up to?
“Stop being naughty, Sugar,” he growled darkly.
“Why? Don't you like it when I touch you?”
“We have a deal. Don't forget about that. And besides, you have no idea what you're asking for.”
“Really? Maybe I know exactly what I'm asking for. And deals are negotiable,” your words were dripping like honey from your mouth.
“No! And you have no idea what it means to tease me!” Loki responded firmly.
“Uhhh…now I'm curious. Don't play hard to get, handsome,” you cooed.
You knew you were playing with fire. But didn't all men say things like this? And then they promise you endless pleasure just to be done in three minutes or so, leaving you unpleasured and you were sure he wasn't any different. You were used to it and it didn't matter. But maybe you were completely wrong. Seeing him how aroused he got, aroused you too and you wanted to feel him close. Much closer than you had already felt him when he danced with you. You wouldn't evolve feelings for him, never, absolutely not but all of a sudden your body craved attention, touches and some adoration. Against your expectation, you almost felt bad to let him pay for having sex with you. But you were an escort, not his girlfriend and the escort lady got paid, period!
“Wanna sleep with me tonight?” Your shameless offer caught Loki off guard and he immediately let go of your wrist. He played it cool and his facial expression turned to stone. He couldn't believe that you offered him your body so willingly. He should refuse it. But then you would ask another guy and he couldn't allow that. Who knew how another guy would treat you? He also couldn't deny that he wanted you, that he craved your touch and your attention. But what the hell made you do this?
You grabbed the loose ends of his scarf and pulled his head gently down and him closer towards you so you could speak right into his ear.
“There's nothing to it, Luke. Just two needy bodies, giving each other some pleasure to get some steam off. What do you think? ”
What were you thinking? What if he declined your offer? He could have any woman in this city and he wouldn't even have to pay for it. You weren't any special, just expensive to book, and if he says no you would've made a terrible fool out of yourself.
“I think you still haven't an idea what you're asking for…I'm not a tender lover,” he grumbled.
“It doesn't matter, tenderness is for beginners. I'm not scared of you.”
It was just the half of the truth. It didn't matter because the few men you had been with hadn't been overly tender but you were afraid of him, not in a bad way though. You had a lot of respect for him, he radiated dominance and masculinity and it aroused you, he aroused you and that was what made you fear him. He made you feel good and safe and that scared you.
“Do you offer this…special service of yours to other men, too? Despite that, you told me you're done with men.” He had no right to ask you this. He had no right to be jealous or possessive. He shouldn't go too far, you weren't his and you could do whatever you wanted. But it made his heart clench when he thought about other men touching you.
“If I do, it's none of your business! And I'm free to change my mind about men. I do what I want.” You whispered firmly into his ear.
How dare he ask you that? It was a normal thing many escort ladies did and there was nothing wrong about it. It happened frequently and consensually. But you didn't judge him for that question and it didn't surprise you that he thought you offered sex to your other clients too. He couldn't know you weren't doing it.
“I won't discuss it with you. So, your decision …do you want me or not?” you purred into his ear.
“Are you really sure you want it? If so, to be very clear, don't expect anything more than just the physical act. I just copulate, don't expect any feelings of love from me. Nothing will change that." His voice was pure velvet in your ear and his warm breath fanned over your neck to your cleavage. It made you shiver pleasantly.
“Well, that's fair enough. I'm not looking for love, as you should know.”
“We still see it the same way then.”
“We do, Luke”, and you loosened your grip on his scarf, put your hands on his chest and let them tenderly travel down over his pecs to his midriff before you took them off of his gorgeous body. Even clothed you could feel every perfectly defined muscle.
Loki had goosebumps all over his skin. You made him feel too comfortable around you and to his astonishment, this feeling wasn't just sexual.
“So we have a deal?” you wanted to know.
“We have a deal”, Loki confirmed. Your hands travelling down his torso hadn't helped get rid of his erection, not in the slightest.
“Then let's go to my hotel later. It's one of the best in Manhattan. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. Scottish whisky for you, champagne for me and…nearly whatever you want, including me.” You were so nervous. Would he like you? Could you satisfy his needs? How rough would he get? You'd definitely need a glass of champagne before you could let him touch you and a cigarette afterwards.
Nonetheless, you'd try to enjoy it. He was such a gentleman and you were absolutely sure he would treat you well and respectfully. And he smelled so good. It was like a drug. Also, you had some rules and if he wouldn't respect and accept them, you would definitely not sleep with him. And you had Walker, he would always protect you.
“Nearly whatever I want? What does that mean, Sugar?” he questioned softly.
“What I said. But I have rules. Strict rules.”
“Of course, you have. And I have mine. We should talk about them later. I don't think it's the right place here for that”, he whispered.
“Yeah, I suggest we settle the matter later in the hotel. Walker will drive us there”, you offered him.
“That's a good call”, he answered, nodding in agreement.
“Fine.” You licked your lips and bit lightly into your lower lip. Loki gasped inwardly. Why were you doing this? Suddenly he turned his head to the side.
“Is everything okay, Luke?”
“I don't like how that guy looks at you”, Loki growled quietly.
“Which guy?” you wanted to know.
“The guy across from us” and you followed Loki's gaze.
“Let him stare.”
“Absolutely not. You're here with me. No one stares at you like this”, Loki murmured and he put his arm possessively around your middle and pulled you close to his side. Absolutely no one was allowed to look at you like this when you were with him.
“He's just jealous of you, Luke. Maybe he likes my trouser suit...or he's a peeper. Don't worry, I'm still your arm candy”, you tried to calm him down but you couldn't suppress a grin.
If looks could kill, the poor guy would die in an instant. You put an arm around Loki's waist and placed your other hand on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, like yours and you both looked at the guy. Loki with a death stare and you with a bright smile. You loved this game you played together. And it made your heart swell that he got angry just because of a random guy who looked at you. None of your exes had been like this. Under different circumstances, you two would be a wonderful couple. The guy immediately looked away, obviously feeling embarrassed and frightened, and turned around.
“Would you please take your hand from my chest?”
“Just in case you let go of my waist.” you offered him sweetly.
“Sorry, I didn't want to…” and he cleared his throat.
“It's okay, Luke, don't worry. We're going to get much closer tonight…Shall we look for some canapés and drinks? It seems, you could need a cooling down”, you said with a quick look at his crotch. Was there a rosy shade on his perfect cheeks? “…oh and I want a dessert…”, and you took him by his hand and pulled him with you to the buffet.
“You and your desserts”, he laughed, amused.
“You should try them some day”, you smiled brightly at him.
“No, thanks, I'm good”, Loki answered, trying to sound serious.
After having some drinks and snacks, you ate the final bite of your dessert and licked the last bits off of the spoon and your lips. Loki was wondering if you did it on purpose. It seemed you liked to tease him and to add to the sexual tension that was obviously still buzzing between you two. It was still palpable. You knew how to seduce and it made you even more desirable.
“Shall we have a look at the other works in the gallery before we leave? I'd like to see them.”
“Anything you want, Sugar. We have time, don't we?”
“I hope so…or are you eager to get to the hotel soon” you teased him.
“I might be horny but I can control myself.”
“Really? That's rare. Most men can't wait to blow their load,” you answered lasciviously and smiled knowingly. You wondered where your self-confidence came from. The thing that was to come was new terrain for you. Shouldn't you feel more nervous? But maybe this was just how you tried to downplay your nervousness.
Loki smirked and rolled his eyes.
“You really amaze me. You're such a beautiful and decent woman but you've such a filthy mouth.”
If only he knew. If you ever have been decent, your decency would soon be gone. At the latest when he fucked you. He would see you differently then and maybe he would also lose his respect for you. And that was one of your biggest fears.
🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹
Tag list:
@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @anukulee @fictive-sl0th @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @gruftiela @stupidthoughtsinwriting @wheredafandomat @lovingchoices14 @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @km-ffluv
58 notes · View notes
seraph5 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Nandermo really strikes me as a ship that wouldn’t have a lot of moments of tenderness but listening to Kayvan talk about how Nandor is looking for things in the romances he is perusing that he kind of already has with Guillermo makes me think that if they did get together, and if Nandor knew what that meant for him, they could share a moment like this. Of tenderness and connection and sweetness. Even if just for one private moment.
ID: Guillermo and Nandor are floating high above Staten island lit by the glittering stars in the night sky. Nandor’s right arm is wrapped around Guillermo’s upper thigh so that he is held up high above Nandor’s shoulders. His left arm is wrapped around Guillermo’s side and up to his back, holding him safe and secure. Nandor has his head tucked under Guillermo’s chin and his lips are pressed to his neck affectionately. He is wearing a long luscious velvet red cape with ornate gold trim, a chocolate brown tunic with a stitched linework pattern throughout and a gold undershirt. His pants are a dark grey and he is wearing high leather boots that begin just under his knee. He is blushing slightly and his expression is peaceful, eyes closed. Guillermo has a huge grin on his face and blush across his cheeks and ears. His hand is tangled in Nandor’s curtain of hair. His left leg has popped with the kiss. He is wearing a brown patterned sweater, striped white shirt, khaki pants and black shoes.
2K notes · View notes
moth-boi-lycan · 9 months
Text
Got a little inspiration from a Donnie gif that @/sanfezu made. Idk where the hell this came from but my brain started braining and my hands started typing, so here:
Tumblr media
T-C3ST DNI or I will rip your intestines out through your nose and then rip your heart out of your chest and use it to play wall-ball against your gravestone.
The Twin's Bond
(Hurt/comfort fic)
Twin senses are a powerful thing. One soul split in two. Feeling eachother's joy, rage, sadness, and everything in-between. Sometimes if strong enough, thanks to being one soul split in two, they can feel the happy stimming of the other. Or even the physical pain of the other, too...
----------
  Everything seemed like it was going in slow motion for Donnie. In this moment he could just feel Leo's pain, it was lighter than what he knew his twin was going through, but he felt everything. It was unbearable knowing that's what Leo was feeling. But hearing him telling- no, begging Casey on what to do to save everyone, his heart dropped.
  No. No no no no, this wasn't how things were supposed to go. He couldn't lose him. He couldn't lose Leo. The twins and their family were supposed to get a happy ending. Heros get happy endings! Then why- why was this what they were getting instead?! Damn it, no no NO, he couldn't fucking lose his twin.
  He couldn't lose the one that helped him through his sensory overloads with weighted blankets and stim toys, the one who would send him random pictures with the intent of making him laugh, the one he stayed up with at ungodly hours of the night. He couldn't lose that.
  He couldn't lose the one that had made a promise that they'd always stick together, the one that helped him sleep after a nightmare when they were tots (and still did it occasionally just by feeling the other's fear and knowing exactly what to do), hell, they even made a pact where if one died then the other would go out too so they wouldn't be alone.
  He heard Raph begging Leo not to do it while he heard what sounded like Leo's shell cracking and bones breaking. His twin was in pain, he could feel every punch, every break, every slam into the Technodrome and he couldn't do anything to help him. He... he really was going to lose him, wasn't he...
  He wanted to say something, anything, over the comms' to beg Leo to remember their promise and to not leave him, but he couldn't find his voice. He felt like he was choking, and that's when he realized the reason he was choking was because he was holding back tears.
  He snapped out of it a few minutes later when a loud cracking explosion sounded off through the sky and debris from the now destroyed Technodrome began to fall down to earth around them on Staten Island and into New York City.
  The portal closed and he froze.
  Why didn't...
  Why didn't he feel anything anymore.
  Why didn't he feel his twin's pain anymore.
  The tears he had been holding back were now freely running down his cheeks, but he didn't make any sound. He wiped them away and shook his head in disbelief as they kept coming. He couldn't stop them.
  He preferred feeling Leo's pain rather than... than not feeling him at all.
  Leo was gone after closing that portal. Donnie felt something snap inside of him, like how he imagined a rope breaking from too much strain and the ends going separate ways would. He fell to his knees like Raph had, dropping his bò as his arms hung limp at his sides. He felt...
  Numb... Leo would occasionally talk about them being one soul split in two despite being completely different species of turtles and having almost no biological relation to eachother (spare their father's DNA, that was something that had been forced), and Donnie always brushed the supposed joke off not knowing Leo was serious. Now he was starting to believe it. Maybe they really were.
  That snapping feeling he had felt... was that how it felt for a person to lose their twin? Their other half? The other part of that soul they shared? He heard Raph talking to Mikey, telling him to stop trying to open a new portal to try and get Leo back.
  Mikey was trying to be the mystic warrior Casey had told him he was, but it wasn't working... there wasn't even a single spark of hope around him, his arms were still stretched out in front of him and his heels dug into the concrete as he continued to try.
  Donnie silently appreciated how Mikey wasn't giving up, but he couldn't even smile. Knowing that Leo was most likely being beaten to death; Prime breaking Leo's bones, cracking his shell and plastron, tearing his insides apart and making him bleed despite never completely ripping him open, throwing him around like a ragdoll, crushing him and slamming him into anything and everything that would hurt him the most and refusing to even let him have a slight chance to get up and fight back.
  It broke him. That numb feeling only intensified when Mikey stopped trying and fell down on his hands and knees with Raph going over to hug him tightly. Donnie really wanted a hug, but not from the family he had left, he wanted to hug his twin again. He wanted Leo to be ok, to bounce back and be at home with a stupid fucking grin on his face, joking about how some dumb interdimensional portal could never keep him away from his family.
  He already wished he could just turn off his heart that now had a gaping hole in it; to forget he even had a twin, then it wouldn't hurt him. Yeah, it'd hurt his family by saying he had no twin, but he wouldn't be in pain because he never would've 'known' Leo if he forgot. He jumped when he felt Raph's hand on his shoulder, silently telling him it was time to go back to the others.
  Donnie stayed still. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to stay right where he was. He didn't want to see the mourning faces of everyone else, he knew they were in pain, but not as much as he was. They had all lost their brother, for Splinter (and unbeknownst to Draxum), he lost his son, and for Casey, he lost the past version of his sensei-slash-uncle. But Donnie...
He had lost something much more important. Something that was more than just a regular brother. If soulmates could be platonic - which he wasn't exactly sure they could be - he had just lost his soulmate. His other half. He couldn't go back to see their depressed looks and he just couldn't go back to the lair, not when his room was right across from Leo's. He'd have to walk out and be reminded every fucking day of what he had lost and have it hurt even more.
But... they had made a promise. A death pact. If Mikey could bring Leo back soon, he wouldn't have to go through with it. But if Mikey didn't manage to bring Leo back at some point and Donnie DID go through with it, there was only a 50/50% chance that he'd see Leo talking about his life while gram-gram listened. Leo was a fighter. He- He could survive the prison dimension if he tried.
Raph kept on shaking him, trying to make him get up, but he didn't see Mikey anywhere; he had gone to try again. This time he tried even harder to open something, anything, even if the portal was just small enough for them to see if Leo was still alive. Donnie's eyes widened when he felt something.
Leo.
He was... he was alive.
He was hanging on for dear life, and he was winning the fight to stay alive. Donnie couldn't move as he watched Raph run over to Mikey, getting behind him and putting his hand on his shoulders to take some of the damage for him that was being done to his body. Donnie waited, unable to bring himself to move, but he felt the other half of his and Leo's split soul getting closer.
When Raph had finally moved to pull Leo out as Mikey closed the portal, Donnie finally forced himself up to run over to where his twin laid with his head on Raph's lap and Mikey was holding his hand.
"C'mon Leo, you can do it. Wake up, please! I-I know you can hear me Leo! Please..." Mikey pleaded, holding onto Leo's hand a bit tighter.
He smiled as bright as the sun when he felt Leo's grip tightened slightly. Donnie reached his hand out towards his twin, who was still partially unconscious.
He rested his hand on Leo's cracked plastron, already thinking of ways to help heal him, but he was mostly focused on him waking up. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Leo's like they would do ever since they were little, the comfort of knowing the other was there helping them feel safer.
"C'mon, 'Nardo. Wake up for us. We know you're alive, please, Leo..." Donnie swore he felt the connection that had sewn itself back together tearing again, but it was refusing to break this time.
Donnie smiled as wide as Mikey did when he saw Leo starting to open his eyes and looking around.
"Hey guys.... everyone alright?... y'all look like shit." Leo joked wincing immediately when he started to laugh. Yeah he definitely had a few broken ribs, Prime had crushed him multiple times and pushed down on his chest for fucks sake, of course he had broken ribs.
Raph and Mikey rolled their eyes and smiled at Leo's attempt to be funny despite the current circumstances, but Donnie stayed unmoving. He had stayed in the position he put himself in, his forehead still resting against his twin's and his hand against his plastron, covering up the largest crack there. Leo smiled weakly at Donnie, his mismatched red and purple eyes staring up at Donnie for a few moments before painfully sitting up and pulling him in for a bone crushing hug - literally and figuratively. It hurt him, but he didn't care.
Donnie sniffled and hugged Leo back, trying to be careful of his injuries, but tightened the hug when he realized that Leo didn't care how much it hurt. Donnie was so relieved.
He was relieved he could feel his twin's presence again.
He was relieved that his platonic-soulmate had been brought back from cheating death.
He was relieved that he felt the other half of their split soul again, and he wasn't letting go of that anytime soon.
He wasn't going to let himself lose Leo ever again, Donnie needed Leo. And he knew Leo needed him as well. Thanks to the extend of both of their injuries, he knew they'd both be in the medbay for awhile, but that didn't mean they couldn't have their beds close enough to one another to hold the other's hand if they were in pain. Even after that, Donnie would definitely ask Leo if they could share a bedroom again like they did when they were little so they'd only be a few feet away if the other needed comfort.
He knew Leo wouldn't object to it. They were twins, they were closer to eachother than the others understood. And that is a bond they wouldn't let anybody break.
79 notes · View notes
cookinguptales · 1 year
Text
nandorisms said: I don't think it was ever going to work in the first place. Freddie was a bandaid. A last-ditch effort at trying to have a normal life outside of Nandor and his clusterfuck of a found family. But he isn't normal and hasn't been for years. Freddie was Guillermo trying to convince himself that he could move on, and Marwa was Nandor's effort to convince Guillermo to stay.
----------
tbh, I agree.
I think that Freddie very much was an "I don't need them, I don't need any of them" solution for Guillermo while he was in London.
Like... Guillermo was at his most loyal in s3. Like distressingly loyal sometimes. And what did that get him? At his absolute highest moment of happiness, he's shoved in a fucking box and mailed across the ocean. No one comes to save him, no one is there to comfort him. He has a moment in that box where he truly fears death, and he is despondent. He realizes that he has dedicated his entire life to people who (he believes) would not do the same for him, and he has in the process alienated his family and all the other humans who might have loved him.
Then he does live but he is utterly alone. He's away from the house and the very meager support system he'd created for himself, Nandor does not come for him, and Nadja seems to have largely abandoned him to his own devices while she did Council stuff.
So he's alone for the first time in his life, both physically and emotionally, and he meets this guy. And this guy talks to him and says nice things to him and doesn't actively abuse him, which puts him miles above most people he knows. So Freddie becomes really, really easy for Guillermo to romanticize. He's another option to the insanity his life has become, and one that is at that moment very attractive.
I think at that point, Freddie really comes to symbolize all the things Guillermo can have if he chooses to be human. This is a human man who thinks that Guillermo is normal and likes the "normal" version of Guillermo. Guillermo can go on daytime dates with this guy. He doesn't have to worry about being killed when he goes out with him. Freddie treats him like a normal human would -- which doesn't quite have the highs that Guillermo has come to expect, but not the lows, either.
Freddie is a guy that Guillermo could bring home to his family, which is another thing that Guillermo is strongly prioritizing in s4 after his experience in London. Which is one reason why it's so fascinating that even after he successfully came out to his family, it doesn't appear that he ever told them about Freddie. Was he just waiting for the right time? Or was there something subconsciously holding him back...
Because the thing is... when Guillermo finally makes it back to Staten Island, he realizes he was wrong. Nandor never meant to abandon him; if anything, Nandor believes that Guillermo abandoned him. Nandor immediately offers him this place of honor at his side, and it's something new. It's not professional and it's not romantic and Guillermo allows himself to throw himself into it because it doesn't upset the very delicate balancing act he currently has in his head.
And then... the others follow suit. Baby Colin comes to love his caretakers, and Guillermo clearly cares about him back. His sniping with Laszlo eventually calms down to a place of mutual respect, as far as childrearing goes. Nadja finally comes to trust him enough to help her manage the club (a bad choice, considering they are very similar in all the worst ways) and they have that really lovely bonding moment over family.
Guillermo, in other words, is being presented with a third option. Not the dismissive vampires from before and not the allure of normalcy, but a vampiric world in which he is ultimately respected, if not completely accepted as one of their own.
But Guillermo is loyal to a fault and he couldn't give up this fantasy of what Freddie could be to him -- someone who loved him, someone who he could be normal with, someone he wouldn't have to sacrifice his family for, someone who would finally, finally put him first. Until it becomes painfully obvious that Freddie would never be that person and Guillermo was only ever romanticizing a relationship just as toxic as all the ones he'd had previously.
And I think that that point Guillermo really had to come to terms with what he wanted and what he was capable of. I do really wish that the show had followed that character arc a little closer (Guillermo realizing that his human parts and his supernatural parts were at odds with each other and he was going to have to make some hard choices) but I think you can see that in his final choice.
Guillermo, to put a long story short, chooses a fourth option. He's given up on Freddie handing him his happiness and he's given up on Nandor handing him his happiness. He's finally chosen to throw himself bodily into the world of vampirism, giving up on his human potential and demanding full vampiric acceptance, and he's going to make that life himself.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We'll see if it works.
And god, Marwa is a whole different post. I have a lot of thoughts about the way that Nandor thinks of his wives (and Guillermo, to a lesser extent) as extensions of himself, his to control, possess, and manipulate -- but how the thing that he's really most attracted to is rebellion and the ability to think for oneself. And how that also tied in with how he saw Freddie as an extension of Guillermo and therefore something that he needed to possess as well.
lmao they're both so bad at this.
177 notes · View notes
mothguillotine · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Is There A Vampire Dentist?
CW: smut at the beginning, slight dub-con but idk if it really counts, just wanna be safe
The dinner with your parents had shaken you up. You know that they could never force you away from Staten Island (due to your strength), but they will definitely try. Them showing up and ruining your new relationships is a likelihood. You have no idea how Nandor, Laszlo, or Nadja would react to your parents' overall shittyness. 
Unfortunately, the vampires noticed the change as soon as you came back home. Guillermo had promised not to tell anyone what had happened that night, even though he encouraged you to tell Nandor. You knew Guillermo wouldn't judge you. After being alive for centuries, vampire standards are really high, and the idea that they could think less of you because of it was probable. 
Nandor had been the first to notice, and then when he told the others they came to the same conclusion, you must miss some of your things. After you were attacked, you never went back to your dorm to get anything. It wasn't like the vampires were lacking in the cash department, so they just bought you things.
The things they bought you just weren't enough, though. You needed your things, not just new everything. So the vampires sent Guillermo to get your things. After asking Oscar where you used to live, he heads over to the university you stayed at. When he gets to your dorm room, he knocks on the door and is greeted by a tall ginger woman, Ness. When Guillermo talked to Oscar earlier, he had warned him about her. You did NOT like Ness. That wasn't unknown information to Guillermo, but why you didn't, he did not know. 
“What?” she asks.
“I'm here for your roommates stuff,” Guillermo explains, “she isn't coming back and-,” 
“I don't care,” she says, moving out of the doorway for Guillermo.
“Okay.” Guillermo says, going in the room with trunks. When he enters, he sees another woman in the room sitting on presumably your old bed. 
“Kelsey, get off the bed,” Ness tells her, “he's getting her shit out of here.”
“Whatever,” Kelsey says and gets down.
Guillermo quickly shoves your drawers of clothes into the trunks. He then removes all of your desk supplies and grabs your laptop. After that, he grabs your clothes and shoes out of the closet, as well as your make-up and hair stuff. 
Finally, he grabs your bedding and blankets. Luckily, no further was in your room that wasn't university property, so he was done. Then he drags the trucks out in the hallway, and then he goes in to double-check he got everything. When he confirms he is done, he turns to leave and sees Kelsey and Ness looking way more than friendly.
“You slept with your girlfriend's roommate?” Guillermo asks Kelsey.
“Ex-girlfriend.” Kelsey says, “Anyways why the hell does it matter to you? You are just picking up her shit.”
“Well she's my friend, and both of you don't deserve her.” he tells them and leaves without another word.
_________________________________________
Back at home, you are sleeping in front of a fire. The night prior, Nandor (probably Guillermo actually) had set up a spread of furs and candles around the fireplace in your room. The gesture had really touched you, and so did he. You both had been occupied all evening, and after everything, you had fallen asleep in the arms of your lover.
That day, you slept exceptionally well, and so did Nandor, who had woken up a bit ago and was observing you as you slept. Every day that you spent together had made him more and more sure that you were it for him. The night before had proven that Nandor was falling fast. 
He was disappointed that he had to leave you for a whole weekend but he also knew that it was probably a good idea to spend a few days apart, at least that is what you told him. Which at first made him upset until you explained that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’.
Nandor knew he had to leave soon to meet Sean and Laszlo at the car, but first, he wanted to have you. The night before, you both had fallen asleep without getting dressed, so he simply moves the fur that was draped on you. For a second, he is worried he woke you up when he sees you move, but when you stop, he continues on his path between your legs. 
He starts with small licks directly on your clit to which he watches your reaction. When you don't move he presses harder to which you moan in your sleep. Nandor continues to pick up the pace until you wake up.
“Fuck,” you say, grabbing his hair. Nandor moans on you when you pull at his hair ever so slightly. You can feel yourself starting to get closer to your orgasm.
“Nandor!” you moan loudly, “I'm- fuck, I'm so close.” He then switches to sucking on your clit which makes you spiral over the edge. You pull Nandor up to kiss you as soon as you are done and you taste yourself on his tongue. 
“Are you ready?” Nandor asks you.
“Yeah,” you tell him, and he moves to enter you.
He goes slower than normal due to the lack of warming up, and when he is about halfway in, he stops.
“Are you okay?” he asks you.
“Yes, Nandor, I promise.” you tell him, “Just fuck me already.”
After a bit he is fully in you, he brings his lips down to your neck. While his hickeys won't last long it doesn't stop him from trying, leaving your neck full of them for the next few hours. When Nandor is happy with the amount of hickeys on your neck he finally moves. One of your hands moves to grab his bicep. Nandor continues to pound into you and both of you are moaning a lot. 
Suddenly there is a knock at the door.
“Hurry up old chap you are gonna be late.” you hear Laszlo yell.
“Go away Laszlo!” Nandor yells at the door and goes back to the matter at hand.
“Fuck,” you say, “I'm gonna come again.”
He feels you tighten around him and knows that you are right so he moves one of his hands to your clit. To which you are immediately coming around him. This makes Nandor in turn also come and you feel him inside you. When he pulls out his cum spills out of you. He falls down next to you on the pelts of fur. 
“Good morning,” you tell him smiling, “What did I do to deserve being woken up like that?” 
“Did you not enjoy it?” Nandor asks you.
“Oh no.” you tell him, “Quite the opposite, my love.”
“Good,” Nandor says and moves to kiss you again to which you let him.
“Babe you have to go or you are gonna be late.” you tell him when you pull apart. He instead goes to kiss you again and this time you move away.
“Nandor,” you tell him, giving him a raise of your eyebrow, “Laszlo is waiting for you.”
“I don't want to go to Sean's cabin,” he tells you, “I want to stay here and be with you.”
“Nandor, you have to go babe.” you tell him.
“Do I have to?” he asks, looking at you batting his eyelashes at you. To which you push his face back and stand up off the furs.
“Come on, they are all waiting for you,” and offer him your hand to stand up. 
“If I knew any better I would say you are trying to get rid of me,” he says and takes your hand and stands up.
“Good thing you do know better,” you tell him and kiss him, “I will be here as soon as you are back on Sunday. Me and Nadja just planned on staying in and watching mamma mia.”
“Okay,” he says, giving up arguing with you.
_________________________________________
Both of you get dressed and head downstairs where Laszlo is waiting. Nadja and Guillermo are arguing in the corner while Colin is standing with many bags and camping equipment next to Laszlo. There also are a few trunks in the foyer which makes the space almost nonexistent. 
“What are all these?” you ask confused.
“Surprise!” Nadja shouts, “We got your things.”
“My things?” you ask.
“Yes, from your university.” Laszlo says.
“Thank you guys, so much,” you tell them, “I thought I was never gonna get it back.”
“Of course we did,” Nadja tells you, “this is your home now.”
Nadja moves to hug you and when you do you also feel everyone else join. You all stand there until Colin joins in and Lazlo breaks off.
“Nandor, we have to go.” Laszlo says.
“Yes, yes.” Nandor says and turns to face you, “I will miss you.” 
“I'll miss you too,” you tell him, moving to kiss him gently, “I lo- I hope you have a good trip.”
“I hope you have a good weekend as well, my love,” Nandor says, “Good bye.” 
“Bye,” you tell him, and he leaves.
_________________________________________
The first night was easy, you and Nadja got drunk on many cocktails she called ‘Throat Juice’. Mamma Mia and Mamma Mia 2: Here We Go Again are played at some point in the night as well. By the end of the night both you and Nadja are laughing so hard that you are tearing up, until Guillermo tells you both its time for bed.
“Come on,” Guillermo tells you both, “You both should have been asleep an hour ago. The sun is coming up soon and-” 
You and Nadja start to laugh again uncontrollably. Guillermo looks completely done with the both of you at this point. 
“We wanna stay upppp!” you tell him, “We just won't sleep! No sleep!”
“No sleep! No sleep! No sleep!” you both start chanting. 
“You both have to go to sleep.” Guillermo says seriously, “If Nandor and Laszlo came back to both of you burned to a crisp because you didn't want to sleep they would probably kill me.”
“Okay fine,” you say, “I don't want you to die or anything.”
Nadja makes a noise that seems like she disagrees and you elbow her.
“Okay,” Guillermo says, opening the door, “Here is your room, go to bed.”
“Okay,” you say sadly, “Good night Nadja!”
“Good night! Sleep well!” she shouts from down the hall with Guillermo ushering her downstairs.
_________________________________________
When you wake up you feel nasty and take a bath. The tub is filled to the brim with bubbles and is lavender scented. It's also very hot. You start by washing your hair and then your body. You take a mental note to have Nandor join you in the bath when he returns.
The peacefulness in the bathroom is quickly finished when Nadja knocks on the door.
“Do you want to go hunt down at the bars?” Nadja asks you through the door.
“Yeah!” you yell back, “Give me like 30 minutes!”
“Okay!” Nadja yells.
So you hurry up and finish up. You dress yourself in dark clothing so that way the shadows will hide you and the blood doesn't stain as bad. When you are all ready to go, you meet Nadja downstairs. 
_________________________________________
Saturday night was not unusual. Both of you had drained a few drunks outside of a bar downtown and, in doing so, had felt the effects. You both were at the very least tipsy.
As the night drew on, Nadja and you returned home to watch some movies, and when the hours passed, Guillermo got you both ready for bed. The next morning you wake up and get ready for the day excited that Nandor is coming home today. You brush your hair and your teeth. While you do so you can't help but wonder, do vampires go to the dentist?
_________________________________________
“Yeah, I'm really excited about Nandor coming home soon.” you tell the camera, “It feels like he's been gone forever, even though I know it's only been a few days. I just really miss him and-” 
You are cut off by loud pounding at the door. The knocks startle you. They are loud and echo throughout the house. You stand from the sofa and take off your mic. When you get to the foyer, the knocks happen again, which causes Guillermo to come down the stairs and Nadja from down the hall.
“Who is it?” Guillermo asks.
“I don't know.” You tell him.
“Gizmo, go open the door.” Nadja says, and then it happens again. This time, though, someone yells your name through the door. 
“We know you are here!” your dad shouts, “Open this door right now!”
“It's my fucking parents.” you whisper, “shit, shit, shit.”
“Why are they here?” Nadja asks you, which causes Guillermo to give you a look as if to say ‘tell her’.
“They want me to leave with them.” You tell her, “The other night I went to see them and they told me they were moving back to Michigan.”
“Where is Mich-e-gan?” she asks you, “Is it far?” 
“Yeah,” you tell her, the pounding continues as well as the shouting, “I don't want to leave but what happens when they call the cops? Because trust me they will.”
“We have to hypnotize them,” Guillermo says.
“No,” you say, “I can't.”
“It's the only option,” he tells you.
“Gizmo is right, my dear.” Nadja says, “They must leave before they draw too much attention to us.”
“I don't know if I can,” you tell Nadja honestly, “I mean they're my parents.”
She pulls you in for a hug and then says, “You have to, my dear.”
“I know,” you say and make your way down the hall to the front door. After taking a moment, you open the door to find your parents standing there.
“We have been standing outside, freezing.” your mom says.
“It is extremely rude not to let us in.” your dad follows with.
“Why are you guys here?” you ask.
“Sweetie, we know you haven't been going to classes or staying at the dorm. You are living here with a bunch of weirdos,” your mom says, “We are just concerned about you, and we think that moving back home with Nani and everyone else. Your cousins miss you so much.”
“I'm not coming back home.” you tell them, “I'm not moving back to Michigan. I'm not going anywhere with you. You guys can't control me anymore.”
“Sweetie, it's not like that.” your mom says.
“Yes, it is. My whole life has always been about what you guys want. You want me to be a perfect student. Done. You want me to move to Staten Island. Done. You want me to go to college here so that way I don't leave you. Done. You want me to be the perfect fucking daughter? Well I tried my hardest and it still wasn't enough for you. I'm done, I'm staying here.”
“You have obviously been brainwashed.” your dad says.
“What is a ‘brainwash’?” a voice says from behind your dad, Nandor.
“Your home!” you say, ignoring your parents for a moment as you run to him and pull him in for a kiss.
“I said I was coming back today.” he tells you, “Who are they?”
“uh, they are my parents.” you tell him.
“Oh, hi, I am her boyfriend, Nandor.” he says happily waving.
“How old is he? Forty?” your mom asks with a disgusted look on her face.
“No, actually, I'm 761,” Nandor says to which you cringe.
“You need to come with us. You aren't safe here.” Your mom says.
“Know if anyone is not safe here, it's you two.” Laszlo says.
“Laszlo, stop.” You tell him, but you go unheard.
“That sounds like a threat.” your dad says.
“Oh no, it's a promise.” Laszlo says.
“Oh I'll have you know that I've been in a few fights with my day, and I can definitely take down a brit.”
“Guys, stop!” you shout.
“I'll have you know I've lived here longer than you have been alive.” Laszlo says.
“STOP!” you shout louder than before stomping your foot down on the concrete path which cracks under the pressure, everyone stops.
“What is going on?” your mom asks.
“Mom, dad, listen to me,” you start and then hold out your hand, “I command you to leave and go to Michigan. You both decided to let me stay here. When people ask about me, you will give them vague answers and tell them that I don't talk to you anymore, I went no-contact.”
“We will do as you please,” they both say and walk down the steps. After they leave, you go back inside and sit down in the library on the sofa. A few moments later, Nandor follows you in and sits next to you. 
You lean over on Nandor, to which he pulls you close. After that, you can't help but let the tears fall as Nandor comforts you. Soon enough, you are sobbing against him.
You both stay like that for a while until Guillermo comes in and gets Nandors' attention.
“What, Guillermo?” he asks, “Can't you see I'm busy?” 
“Nadja and Laszlo have something to cheer her up.” he says, “If she's up for it?”
“Yeah, I could use a distraction.” you tell them both.
“Okay they would like to play a song for you.” he tells you, “They have been practicing for a while.”
“Okay,” you say and a little while later you are all gathered around the piano. The tune that Laszlo plays is familiar but you can't quite put your finger on it until Nadja starts singing.
“Ooh, You can dance. You can jive.
Having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl. Watch. that scene. Digging the dancing queen,” Nadja starts and you clap along enjoying the song, “Friday night and the lights are low. Looking out for a  place to go  Where they play the right music. Getting in the swing You come to look for a king. Anybody could be that guy. Night is young and the music's high. With a bit of rock music. Everything is fine. You're in the mood for a dance. And when you get the chance,”
Laszlo joins Nador for the chorus, “You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet. Only seventeen. Dancing queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah. You can dance. You can jive. Having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl. Watch that scene. Digging the dancing queen.”
You know, right then, watching Nandor, Laszlo, Nadja, Guillermo, and even Colin, that you would be okay. You love these crazy vampires and their fierce bodyguard. This is everything you've ever wanted and more. A real family. You smile as Najda and Laszlo finish the song.
“What did you think?” Nadja asks you.
“I love it,” you tell her.
<Previous Part/Next Part>
Masterlist
40 notes · View notes
storiesofsvu · 2 years
Text
An Itch to Scratch
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sonny Carisi x reader x Peter Stone. Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, threesome (m/m/f). A/N: it's mentioned in the story, but in this scenario Sonny has yet to be in the squad and Stone's still living in Chicago, ie; they don't know each other until they meet here.
It’s a very known fact to everyone that humans have needs, and sometimes those needs are carnal, and absolutely take precedence over everything else. On the occasion those needs can be satisfied quickly with ones own hands, if that’s not enough there’s always the solution of some special toys. That had been your original thought, some self loving would satisfy you and you could make your way onto your weekend plans. Instead you spent so many rounds with your vibrator it had ran out of battery life and you were still aching for more. Rather than waiting for it to charge to try again you decided there was only one solution to this that would actually work, so you freshened up, put on a cute sundress along with some enticing makeup and hit up a bar a few streets over from your apartment.
Naturally, you weren’t the only person in Manhattan that was going through the same struggle.
Sonny was having a hell of a time trying to fit in with the Staten Island squad, and of course this was making him even more frustrated being a Staten Island native himself. It was his third rotation of SVU boroughs and he was beginning to wonder if maybe this wasn’t actually the job for him. He needed to blow off some steam, and somewhere he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew, so he cabbed into Manhattan to find a bar.
Peter on the other hand, was only in town for a family thing. That on its own was enough to warrant wanting to escape. Though, he was already escaping work, Chicago’s intelligence unit was running him ragged and when his dad brought up the family reunion he jumped at the opportunity to use up some vacation days. He loved the city and knew some of the best spots thanks to the years touring through with the team. So when a discussion turned into a debate that turned into a lecture, he feigned a work call from his second chair and headed back to his hotel before deciding what bar to hit up tonight.
The lights were low, the music just loud enough that you wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation of the table next to you. The bar was full, but not packed, the vibe somewhere between everyone’s favourite pub to wind down with a beer and the ideal place where you’d meet someone new. You grabbed a mojito from the bar and settled into a high top table where you could see most of the room, your eyes searching through the crowd for a potential suitor. There was a good variety of people in here tonight, ages ranging, some with groups of friends, some either on dates or with a wingman, and a handful, like yourself, there alone.
You spotted him first, as he approached the bar and ordered a beer, the man was tall, thin, his blue eyes piercing as he glanced around the room. You waited for him to join a group, or have a girl sidle up to his side but he simply settled at the bar with his beer. You watched him for a little bit, trying to determine what kind of a night he was having, he was dressed casually, jeans and a Henley, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His eyes flitted between the television behind the bar and his phone while he made conversation with the bartender. He was rather animated when he talked expressing his words with his hands; you couldn’t help but stare fingers long and elegant, your mind began to wander, thinking about what else they could do. Chewing on your straw you felt your cheeks heat as the thoughts in your mind got dirtier the longer you watched. He finished his beer and for a moment you thought you had missed your chance, but it turned out he was only disappearing to the bathroom, returning to order a second drink. It was now or never you figured, draining your drink and making you way up to the bar, resting against the ledge of the wood right next to him.
“Can I grab another mojito please?” The bartender nodded, flashing you a smile as they started to make your drink. You could feel the man’s eyes glance over to you, drinking you in as you pretended not to notice.
“That everything?” The bartender asked and you pursed your lips as you glanced through the liquor bottles before turning to the man.
“I can never decide what to shoot, what’s your go to?”
“Oh, uh..” he glanced through the bottles quickly, “probably Jameson’s.”
“Two Jamie’s please.” You asked the bartender who pulled down the bottle and promptly poured them out. You slid the cash across to cover the cost and tip and the slid one of the glasses over to the man, “cheers.” He clinked his glass with yours and the two of you shot back the liquor.
“Thanks.” He shot you a grin, extending out his hand, “Sonny.”
“Y/n.” Smiling, you accepted the hand shake, letting your fingers linger in his longer than normal as your eyes flitted up and down his body, “this your regular place?”
“Nah.” He let out a small laugh, “jus wanted somewhere I wouldn’t run into anyone, ya know?”
“Rough week?”
“Less than ideal, but coulda been worse.”
“I know the feeling.” You paused to take a hefty swig of your drink, “I take it you’re not waiting for anyone then?”
“No.” He grinned over the rim of his beer, “you waitin’ for someone?”
“No one in particular.” You smirked up at him, watching the way his eyes dragged up your body, focussing on how you lips wrapped around your straw.
Sonny felt his pulse pick up, the dress you had on was fitted perfectly, the skirt flowing out just enough to not be skin tight, the swell of you chest bouncing slightly when you laughed. He hadn’t come out tonight with the intent of hooking up, but now he was wondering if maybe his plan should change. The two of you chatted for a little bit longer, mainly about nothing, a few comments here and there about the game playing behind the bar. Suddenly your hand was on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze,
“It was nice to meet you Sonny. You know where to find me if you want me to help make that rough week better.”
Shooting him a wink you sauntered back to the table you’d started at. Sonny was cute, seemed like a really nice guy, someone you could take home to your parents, and you weren’t sure if that was the vibe you wanted for tonight. You left the ball in his court, wanting to see if he would up his game, turn on the pizazz and approach you as the night wore on. You also wanted to see what else was out there, while you may end up leaving your phone number with Sonny you weren’t sure if he was looking for the same thing you were tonight.
He sent you over another mojito a little bit later, tilting his beer bottle in your direction when you glanced his way with a smile of thanks on your cheeks. He had enjoyed talking to you, and did want to continue on, but he also wanted to wind down a little bit more before indulging into anything more.
*
Peter entered the bar with two very clear intentions in his head, get a decent buzz on, and find someone to go home with. He wanted to drink to relax, and then fuck his frustrations out on some pretty thing. His eyes scanned the crowd as he made his way up to the bar, there were a few girls already eyeing him down, but he was rolling his eyes at them. He wanted someone that would make him work for it first, not someone who was just going to drop to their knees and do whatever he wanted. He wanted someone that could hold their ground against him, a fun little challenge to distract him from the bullshit week he’d had. He also didn’t want to deal with someone who was with a group of people, having to either infiltrate his way into the group and put up with everyone else while attempting to pick up, or having everyone in said group watching their every move as the flirtation began. It was annoying, something that seemed very high school to him, especially if he wasn’t going to see her ever again.
He approached the bar and while he waited for the bartender his eyes fell on you, alone at a table, small smile on your face as you scrolled through your phone. There was no other glass on your table, no coat or signs of another person being with you and you were dressed like you wanted some kind of attention. You glanced up from your phone and accidentally locked eyes with him, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks as you smiled, letting out a small laugh before you ducked your gaze.
You weren’t sure why you were the one blushing when he was the one caught staring, but you couldn’t help the heat oozing through your body. The man was attractive, broad chest and back, thick arms covered with a black sweater, the type of guy you knew could throw you around. When you glanced back up he was saying something to Sonny, gesturing towards the tv with his drink and your eyes widened slightly as realization washed over you. That was certainly one way to make sure your needs were taken care of tonight.
Peter waited a bit, letting his first drink sink in to gain some extra confidence, and to make sure you weren’t waiting for someone. He watched a younger man approach your table, flirting perhaps a little too hard and while you politely smiled your way through it, you still sent him packing a minute later. He wasn’t surprised, you were out of the guy’s league, and the guy looked barely old enough to even be in the bar. He ordered a second bourbon and two shots, scooping them up from the bar and sauntering over to your table. You glanced up with a grin on your face as you watched him approach the table,
“So he does have the balls to make a move.” You greeted slyly and he chuckled, sliding the shot over to you.
“Had to make sure you weren’t waiting on someone, wouldn’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You mean like numb nuts over there?” You asked, gesturing towards the younger guy and Peter laughed once again, “at least you didn’t show up empty handed.” You picked up the shot glass and clinked it with his before shooting it back.
“What can I say, my mom taught me to always bring something to the table.” He extended his hand, “Peter.”
“Y/n.” His hand shake was strong and you once again found yourself having impure thoughts about the other things hands and fingers could do. “Take seat.” You gestured, “tell me Peter, you come here often?”
“Not anymore.” He let out a small laugh, “I’m in town from Chicago.”
“What brings you to the big apple?”
“Family bullshit.”
“Ugh.” You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink, “no wonder you chose to hit up a bar instead.”
“Yeah.” He laughed, “what about you? This your regular spot?”
“Nah,” your head tilted slightly as you surveyed him, “but I’ve got this itch I can’t seem to scratch.”
“Anything I can help with?” He asked, a sly grin taking over his cheeks.
“Oh most definitely.” You grinned back at him, letting out a little chuckle as you sipped at your drink.
The two of you fell into an easy conversation, Peter enjoyed the way you challenged him, the flirting picking up more banter as it went on. While he was already pretty sure you would say yes to going home with him, you weren’t about to completely give it up that easily, and he enjoyed that. You finished off your drink, playing with the ice with your straw for a minute while he finished up a story.
“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shifted to slide off the bench and Sonny suddenly appeared beside you, sliding another mojito toward you.
“I gotcha doll.” He winked and you felt your cheeks heat at the pet name as you moved back to where you’d been sitting, Sonny sliding in beside you.
“Oh.” Peter stalled, “my bad, I didn’t realize you were here with someone.” He moved to stand and your hand clasped around his forearm, pulling his attention back to the table.
“I met Sonny about ten minutes before you walked in here.”
“I’m not intruding am I?” Sonny asked, suddenly realizing he might’ve read the room wrong and the two of you laughed.
“Just met her tonight.” Peter explained, watching the way you looked between the two of them with a grin on your face and he started to pick up what you were putting down, extending his hand to the other man. “Peter.”
“Sonny.”
“So sweetheart…” he settled back into his seat, “why don’t you tell us more about this itch?”
*
Peter’s hotel room was closest, he’d also splurged for the California king bed, and knew the mini bar was more than well stocked. It was a decent sized room, couch across from the foot of the bed, large windows overlooking the city, though he made a point of pulling the shades shut after entering the room. Peter offered you drinks from the mini bar, taking a swig off a bottle of whiskey before passing it off to Sonny whose hand trailed up your back, moving your hair to one side before his lips hit the side of your neck. You let out a satisfied hum at the feeling, glancing up when Peter’s hand closed around your chin, tilting your lips up to his for a kiss. It started slow, lips moving against each other with grace while you found you rhythm. His free hand came to your hip, tongue sliding across your lower lip before sneaking into your mouth. Your arms looped around his shoulders, a hand scratching into his hair as the kiss deepened, tongues battling for dominance as you groaned into his mouth.
He pulled away smirking, watching your chest heave as you caught your breath. With a dark chuckle he gently spun you in his arms to face Sonny, his lips kissing across your shoulder to your neck, teeth nipping at your skin.
“Well Sonny…the girl said she had an itch she couldn’t seem to scratch no matter what she did… what do you think we should do?”
Sonny chuckled, stepping toward you, his finger curling under your chin before he ducked to kiss you quickly, lips soft against yours.
“I think we should see how many times we can make her come.” His eyes darted from yours to Peter’s and back, “would you like that doll?”
“Yes. Please.”
With a wicked grin, Sonny leant down to kiss you again, this one longer and deeper, his tongue easily sliding into you mouth, hands wrapping around you to grope at your ass. Behind you Peter stripped himself down to his briefs, watching the way you melted into the kiss already putty in Sonny’s hands. You certainly were eager and probably in dire need of a release, he made a mental note to remember not to tease too much.  Your hands tangled into Sonny’s hair, tugging at the roots and he groaned into the kiss, retaliating by biting your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back with a lewd pop.
“Why don’t we get ya out of this dress, hmm?” He asked, fingers slipping into the straps and pushing them off your shoulders. You let him undress you, the dress pooling around your feet and you stepped out of it and your shoes, leaving you clad in a pair of panties underneath.
“C’mere sweetheart.” Peter murmured, lips meeting the side of your neck again, tugging you to the bed where he settled against the headboard, placing you between his legs, leaning back on him. It gave Sonny the time to strip down to his underwear, eyes raking up your body as he looked toward the bed.
Peter’s hands roamed your body, fingers tracing nonsense patterns across your skin while his mouth made home in the crook of your neck. The bed dipped with Sonny’s weight as he crawled over you, leaving another burning kiss on your lips, groaning into it as he cupped your cunt, hot and wet through your panties.
“Oh god Sonny…” you murmured, breaking the kiss with a gasp and he chuckled, sitting up on his haunches between your legs.
“Ya’ve ruined your panties doll. Maybe we should just get rid of ‘em?”
He snuck into the waist band of them, tugging them down your legs and tossing them to the floor before his hands slid up your legs, pushing your thighs even further apart as he settled between them on his knees.
“Pussy’s gorgeous.” He praised, though he glanced to Peter, talking to him as if you weren’t even there and you felt the desire pulse through you at the whole concept.
“Bet it tastes even better.”
“More than enough time to find out.”
Smirking, Sonny’s hand cupped you once again and your breath hitched in your throat, begging for more. Peter watched the way he ground his hand against you, smearing your juices across it, the pads of Sonny’s fingers barely dipped into you, dancing up and down your folds. He slid one finger into you heat and in the same moment Peter’s hands pinched at your nipples.
“Fuck!” Your head dropped back onto Peter’s shoulder, one of his hands continued to toy with your chest as the other one came up, tilting your chin to his and catching your lips in a breathless kiss while Sonny continued to finger you.
His finger slipped in and out easily, you were practically dripping already, warmth wrapping around the digit and he knew you could handle another. The second finger joined and you groaned into the kiss with Peter whose hand moved down to you throat, simply holding in control, not squeezing. Sonny’s fingers curled within you in search of that spongey spot while continuing to thrust. The sounds of your drenched cunt were already echoing through the room and you could feel Peter’s cock twitching behind you thanks to it. Your hips shot upward and Sonny’s lips split into a grin, knowing he’d found your sensitive spot, his fingers pausing in their thrusting to press up against it and you had to break the kiss to let out a loud moan.
“You like that, don’t you?” Peter asked with a tease in his voice, the hand around your neck squeezing ever so gently as Sonny pressed against you again and you let out a whine.
“Fuuuck… feels so good.”
“Think she can squirt?” Peter asked, glancing up at the other man who chuckled darkly.
“Only one way to find out.” Sonny’s fingers picked up their speed, fucking into you faster, Peter moved back to swallowing your moans as his tongue explored your mouth.
His free hand pinched at your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and your back arched into the touch. He continued to toy with you, switching sides and trying to match the same rhythm as Sonny’s fingers. Sonny groaned at your juices smearing across your thighs, your pussy practically glittering in the light of the hotel room. He wanted to taste you more than anything but also wanted to make you come on his fingers before anything else, he knew the unspoken plan was to make you come at least six times before the night was up and he wasn’t going to deviate from it. So instead, he easily slipped a third finger into your pussy and you let out a breathy moan, your thighs shaking as your cunt fluttered around his hand. Your skin was on fire, tingling from the multiple sensations across your body, Peter’s hand squeezing around your throat sporadically as his tongue swept deeper into your mouth. He could feel your body shivering on top of his and knew you were close, Sonny on the other hand could feel you squeezing around him tighter and tighter, your pussy wetter with each thrust of his fingers.
“You gonna come for me doll?” He husked, his eyes darkening at how wet his hand was, “make a mess all over the place?”
“Oh fuck yes.” You moaned, your chest heaving as you panted, dropping against Peter.
He chuckled, the hand around your throat gliding down your body in search of your clit. Sonny’s free hand was pinning your thigh down to the bed, keeping you spread wide open for the two of them. Peter’s fingers found your clit, swollen and pulsing, pinching at it before beginning to rub it in slow circles.
“More!” You cried out, hand tightly winding around Peter’s wrist and the pressure and speed of his fingers increased. Sonny’s hand fucked harder and faster into you, matching the pace as he watched your body tremble below him, feeling your cunt clench down on him. The coil burst within you and you let out a loud moan, your thighs shaking as you came, juices covering Sonny’s hand leaking down onto the bedspread. He let out a low laugh, fingers slowing until he pulled them from you,
“Looks like she is a squirter.” He grinned at Peter before sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he moaned over the taste of you. The boys gave you a minute to calm down, Peter passing you the bottle of bourbon for you to take a sip before he gently nudged you forward.
“I want a taste of that sweet pussy, that alright kitten?”
“Oh fuck yes.” You muttered with a small laugh, twisting to kiss him as he shifted from the bed.
Peter stood from the bed, ridding himself of his briefs as he did so and you felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock slapping up against his stomach, thick, hard and leaking pre-cum already. Sonny shifted behind you, mimicking the other man’s actions and you knew you were about to have the best night, and no lingering issues once you were all done.
“Bend over.” Peter instructed, rounding the foot of the bed and you did so, wiggling your hips back to him and he swore. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on Sonny’s cock, watching the way it twitched and he chuckled, “you want his cock in your mouth?”
“Yes please.”
“I think that can be arranged.” Sonny grinned, dropping down onto the bed in front of you, spreading his legs wide as he fisted his cock, smearing the pre-cum around it and you groaned, “but let Peter get a head start, alright? No reason for you to be distracted while he pleases you.”
You nodded, letting out a small gasp when Peter spanked you, “do that again…” you whined and he did as you asked, hand coming down on both cheeks, each hit harder than the last. His hands groped at your ass, kneading the flesh, spreading you cheeks before his hand snuck between your legs, fingers easily sliding into your drenched pussy.
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered, cock throbbing as you rocked back on his hand, warm and wet around him, wordlessly begging for more. You were so ready, so needy, it made him want to plunge his cock into you right then and there but the desire to taste your beautiful pussy was stronger than all of that.
So instead he sunk to his knees, spreading your cheeks as he kissed at your inner thighs, this time his thumb slipping into you, fingers toying with your clit and he could feel your pussy fluttering around him already. Unable to hold back he launched forward, mouth hitting your cunt to eat you from behind, tongue swiping through it and you let out a whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm. He wasted no time, sucking your lower lips into his, drawing out even more of your juices, tongue plunging into you, twisting and twirling with skill. It danced against your throbbing clit and you let out a breathy moan before his lips wrapped around it, sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Peter!”
“You like that doll?” Sonny asked, watching the way your eyes scrunched shut and you nodded. Your hands grasped as his thighs while you let out a whine, tugging him toward you and he let out a little chuckle, shuffling on the bed until his cock was in front of your mouth.
“Need your cock.” You begged and he nodded, hand wrapping around it, angling it to your lips.
Your tongue lapped out, licking from base to tip before swirling around the head, smearing the pre-cum around and Sonny let out a low swear at the sensation. Your lips wrapped around him, head beginning to bob slowly until you had him buried deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat.
“Shit you’re good at that.” He hissed, hands tangling into your hair for something to hold on to as you continued to suck him off.
Behind you, Peter sunk two fingers into your pussy, lips staying on your clit while his tongue traced patterns across it. The heat was burning through you once again, body trembling as you sucked Sonny off. You sunk lower onto his cock, hollowing your cheeks around him and held him in your mouth, sucking and licking around it as he groaned above you. You pulled off him with a gasp, a string of spit trailing from your lower lip to his cock and he felt himself twitch at the sight.
“Fuck!” you swore, your head dropping onto the bed as Peter’s fingers curled within you, tapping and grazing across that special spot, your thighs beginning to shake, each whine leaving your lips louder than the last.
“Whatever you’re doin’ don’t fucking stop.” Sonny commented, “she’s gonna come again.”
Peter simply groaned into your cunt in response and the vibrations had you shrieking, his tongue pressing harder and harder against your clit as his fingers picked up their speed until you were trembling, juices smearing across his face. He quickly swapped what was where, mouth latching around your pussy as you came, fingers continuing to play with your clit so he could drink up every drop. You dropped onto the bed panting as he stood behind you.
“Fuck do you ever taste good kitten.” He praised, spanking at your ass and you let out a groan.
“I’m gonna need one of you to fuck me, now.”
“Then get up here.” Peter tugged at your hips, pulling you up off the bed with a small shriek from you. He nodded to Sonny to join the two of you before grabbing a condom out of his tossed aside jeans. “Ready kitten?” He husked into your ear, one hand bending you forward as the other slipped between you legs, spreading your pussy open for his cock.
“Yes, please!”
You had one hand braced on the arm of the couch, letting out a low moan as Peter’s cock sunk into you and he swore quietly. Sonny’s hand caressed the side of your cheek as he stepped in front of you, his cock hard, bobbing right at your lips. His hand wrapped around it, tracing your lips with the tip of it, smearing pre-cum around.
“You think you can handle two doll?” He asked and you eagerly nodded, lips opening wide to let his cock into your mouth.
The two men started an easy rhythm, plunging into you slowly at first, letting out little grunts and groans at the feeling of your cunt and mouth wet and warm around them. You let out happy moans, your body vibrating already and they picked up the pace, fucking deeper into you, your free hand came up to play with Sonny’s balls as he fucked your face. He groaned heavily, his hips thrusting into your mouth and stilling suddenly, his eyes scrunching shut as he held back.
“Such a good pussy.” Peter grunted, “so fucking tight kitten, you take me so well.”
“Mouth’s just as good.” Sonny replied, letting out a low moan as your cheeks hollowed around him.
The room was full of sounds of sin, moans, groans, the wetness of your cunt, dribbling down your thighs as Peter’s fingers collected it, smearing it across your body, the slurping of your mouth around Sonny’s cock, gagging when his head hit the back of your throat. Everything about it was dirty and none of you could get enough. You felt your pussy fluttering, a gasp leaving your lips around Sonny’s cock when Peter’s arm wound around you, fingers rubbing at your clit. You whimpered, muffled moans leaving your lips, your walls clamping down around his dick.
“You gonna come again for us?” Peter huffed, each thrust meeting your hips harder and deeper than the last, feeling the way you were squeezing around him, “fuck you feel so good, I want you to come on my cock, you understand?”
You mumbled a reply around Sonny’s cock, doing your best to nod as Peter’s hand increased the pressure, his cock dragging past every inch you needed. You let out a cry, your mouth leaving Sonny as your hand clenched into the couch, nails digging in as deeply as your cunt squeezed at Peter.
“Oh fuck sweetheart…” he swore, his hands gripping into your hips hard enough you knew they’d leave marks. He had to do his best to hold back from coming then and there, fucking you deeply through your orgasm as your body shook. His arm wrapped around you, holding you up when your legs threatened to collapse under you.
“Oh my god..” you whimpered, cunt pulsing around him, your body shaking, “oh my fucking god..”
“Yeah… you like that?” Sonny asked, his hand cupping your cheek again, his thumb pushing into your mouth, “god you’re such a pretty sight when you come.”
Peter continued to thrust into you, his cock twitching with each of the aftershocks from your orgasm, his hand spanked at your ass again and you let out a moan, your lips dropping towards Sonny’s cock.
“Fuck.” Peter swore, “I’m gonna come.” You popped off Sonny’s cock long enough to whimper out,
“Come on my ass…”
Peter wasted no time, pulling out and tossing the condom to the side, fisting at his cock furiously, letting out a string of grunts and groans. The image of you completely blissed out, thighs and cunt slick with juice with your lips wrapped around Sonny along with the memory of how your cunt felt wrapped around his cock was all it took. He let out a loud moan, his hand squeezing tighter around his cock as his cum spurted out, painting your ass with white.
He dropped down to the bed with a satisfied groan, looking to the other man, “you gotta fuck that pussy, trust me.”
Sonny pulled you off his cock, tossing you to the edge of the bed, letting out a soft chuckle at the sight of your makeup smeared, your lips slick with spit from sucking him off. Your chest heaved as you did your best to catch your breath while Sonny moved to grab a condom, sheathing his cock with it.
“You want this doll?” He asked and you nodded.
“Fill me up Sonny.”
He let out an uncontrollable moan, lining himself up with your dripping cunt. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him to be able to come, he’d been so close to spilling into your mouth already and your cunt felt good enough around his fingers he knew he wouldn’t last long. His hands splayed across your thighs, spreading the wide as he started to thrust deep into you.
“Oh fuck!” He grunted, feeling your pussy pulsing around him.
“You feel so good Sonny.” You whined.
“M’not gonna last doll, holy shit.” He continued to pump into you, his hips meeting yours with vigour, “need you to come first.”
You were about to reply when a yelp left your lips at the feeling of Peter’s fingers returning to your clit, rubbing furiously as Sonny pounded into you. You were so done for already, cunt needy and begging for it as you thrived against the bed. Sonny could feel you getting wetter and wetter yet again, juices coating his thighs as he fucked deeper and harder into you.
“Oh god!” Your hand came up to pinch at your own chest, the other one curving around Peter’s head, pulling him to you for a desperate kiss. “I’m gonna come!” You cried out, your cunt gripping around Sonny, body shaking as you let out a loud moan, thighs attempting to squeeze shut around Sonny.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…” he swore, continuing to pound into you, “where can I come?”
“On my tits.” You whined out in response and he pulled out of you, ridding himself of the condom, one hand wrapping around his length and the other tugging you off the bed, pushing you down to your knees. He let out a series of low grunts and groans, cum shooting out of his cock, landing on your chest, marking you and he nearly dropped to the couch behind him.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” With what strength he had left he pulled you up, gently shoving you back onto the bed that you gratefully collapsed against, letting Peter’s arm wrap around you, pulling your back to him as he kissed at your shoulder.
“How’s that itch doing now?” He asked with a smirk in his voice and you giggled.
“Very satisfied.” You murmured back.
“Glad we could help.” Sonny panted, dropping down on the other side of you as a comfortable silence overcame the room, the three of you catching your breath and finally coming back down to earth.
Peter grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand, taking a hefty swig before passing it to you and you did the same before passing it over to Sonny. Hands were lightly tracing over skin, no one really sure whose was whose at this point, and not really caring as relaxation and small conversation took over the room. The mood began to shift from one of super sexually charged to one of much more calm and chill, the conversation back to the teasing banter like at the bar.
“What’d’you do back in Chicago?” Sonny asked suddenly, his question directed to Peter who chuckled.
“I’m a prosecutor.
“Oh no way.” Sonny laughed, “I’m at Fordham right now, night school.”
“Oh god…” your hand ran over your face as you laughed, “two lawyers?”
“Well I’m a cop now.” Sonny replied, prodding at your skin and you groaned, pushing yourself up off the bed.
“And that is my cue to leave.”
“Why?” Peter laughed, “you some kind of criminal?”
“Try criminal defense attorney.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.” Peter chuckled, shifting on the bed to grab at your hand, tugging you back into it. “Doesn’t mean you have to go yet.” His nose nudged at yours, murmuring his words against you lips.
“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow, stealing a kiss.
“Yeah…. Just gives us more reason to punish you.”
“She did seem ta like those spankings…” Sonny’s voice thickened as he sat up, hands groping at your ass and you couldn’t help but let out a low groan.
It was safe to say you certainly had no itch to scratch by the time they were finally done with you.
_________________ @naturalxselection  @bisexualcrowleyy  @detective-giggles @teamsladsandgents @averyhotchner @glimmerglittergirl @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @altsvu @lawandorderimagines @whimsicallymad @caracalwithchipsthchips @mysticfalls01 @bisexual-dreamer02 @mrsrafaelbarba @lila-lola45 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirll @svushots @australiancarisi @rafivadafreddy  @thestarrynightslover @newyorker14  @sia2raw  @cycat4077 @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @itisdoctortoyousirr @nobody-important1212 @beardedbarba
294 notes · View notes
noellawrites · 1 year
Text
His Future Wife (Part 1) - Yandere!Sonny Carisi x reader
Series Masterlist
summary: you’re the new SVU detective and manage to catch a certain Italian’s eye. unlucky for you, he‘s already preparing to make you his wife.
warnings: brief (non-graphic) mentions of assault and attempted rape, a bit of creepy carisi
Tumblr media
Your heels clicked on the linoleum floor as you paced back and forth in the middle of the squad room. It was your first day as a Detective at the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, and you were waiting for your interviewer and new boss, Lieutenant Olivia Benson.
You glanced around the bullpen and noticed a couple empty desks, one of them soon to be yours. You watched a short blonde woman exit the elevator with two cups of coffee in her hands. She breezed past you and headed right to the desk of a man in a suit who was hunched over some paperwork.
"Long night with Jesse?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and grinning at the blonde woman.
You immediately recognized his Staten Island accent, then analyzed his face and realized he had to be Italian.
"You wouldn't believe it! She wouldn't stop crying, no matter what I did. Must've been four by the time she crashed," the blonde woman groaned.
Staten Island laughed, tilting further back. As you stared the two of them, he looked past blondie and directly at you. He smiled, showcasing his dimples.
Blondie turned around and made eye contact with you, but she didn't have a chance to say anything before the elevator doors opened up once again to reveal Olivia, your saving grace.
"(Y/n), hello and congratulations! This desk will be yours, so please get comfortable. Everyone, this is Detective (y/n) (y/l/n), she's our newest addition so let's be conscious in showing her the ropes, alright? (Y/l/n), meet me in my office in ten," Olivia ordered, giving you a tight smile.
Olivia walked to her office, shutting the door behind herself. You sat down and tried to avoid everyone's gazes as they stared at you. It almost made you self-conscious. Was your hair out of place? Did you forget to dry-clean your blazer? Did you sit in something on the subway ride? No, you told yourself, you looked completely fine. Radiant, beautiful even. You were used to the guys in Narcotics either bullying you or objectifying you. That's why you'd requested a transfer, and thankfully SVU was looking for someone like you.
"New girl, where 'ya from?" Staten Island asks.
You looked up from your desk to face blondie, Staten Island and an older, critical-looking man who brought his own cup of steaming coffee to his desk.
"I spent three months as a Detective in the Queens Narcotics Division," you explained.
"Where were you before that?" he asked again, raising an eyebrow.
"I spent two years as an officer before getting promoted to detective, then transferred to Narcotics," you explained, opening your bag and pulling out a few frames you'd brought to decorate your desk.
"Only two years to rise through the ranks? Pretty impressive," blondie offered.
"Thanks. Top of my class at John Jay and the Police Academy. Dad was a cop, too. I care a lot about my career, so I study a lot. Read cases, whatever," you explained.
They both shared a glance, wordlessly exchanging their opinions on you.
You wished you didn't have to explain your life story on the first day, but they seemed curious. You also appeared to be the youngest cop in here by a long shot, which also made you a bit nervous. Your age had made you a target at Narcotics, so you'd learned to make an effort to look older. Turtlenecks and modest skirts were your wardrobe staples.
"Anyway, I should probably go talk to Lieutenant Benson. What are your names again?" You asked, rising from your desk and walking towards theirs.
"My apologies, I'm Amanda Rollins," the blonde woman smiled, shaking your hand.
"I'm Dominick Carisi Junior, but you can call me Sonny. It's nice to meet you," Staten Island said, standing up and shaking your hand. He stared at you with his piercing blue eyes, so intensely that you had to look away.
“So, (y/n), you busy after your shift?” Sonny asked as the two of you climbed into his squad car. You’d just got done chasing another dead-end lead on a serial rapist case connected to a powerful tech company.
“Uh, I’ll probably just watch some TV and unwind, why?” you asked, buckling your seatbelt.
“Just wondered if you’d wanna get drinks is all.”
“Nah, I’m alright. Thanks though,” you said, then cleared your throat.
“Next time,” Sonny insisted, then started the car.
You looked out the window as your partner drove, willing the situation to not get any more awkward than it already was.
“C’mon, it’s been a long day. Cannoli’s at Veniero’s, my treat,” Sonny insisted as he stood next to your desk in the bullpen.
“No thanks, Carisi,” you sighed, going back to your paperwork. Your last case about a child sex trafficking ring had left you with a hellish amount of work to finish, let alone the emotional toll.
You had been ignoring Sonny’s advances since you’d started at SVU, and you wish he’d lay off. Not only was it weird but it reminded you of some of the men from Narcotics. You didn’t like the way he would always stare at you from his desk, either.
The only reason you hadn’t talked to Liv about it was because most of the time, Sonny was extremely nice and considerate. Not at all like your old co-workers who would corner you by the women’s lockers or taunt you at your desk. If you ever had a question or needed help, he was always the first to assist.
“C’mon (y/n), they’ll change ‘ya life!” he insisted, placing a hand on your desk and leaning over.
“Carisi, I’ve told you that I’m not interested in dating my co-workers,” you explained.
Before he had the chance to respond, your phone buzzed. It was sitting face-up next to your paperwork, so both you and Sonny had a full view of the text.
“What’s that? Who’s Alex?” he spat. You scrambled to move your phone, but the damage was done. The text wasn’t even that bad, just a friend of yours who’d moved back to the city and wanted to grab dinner. It didn’t help they had heart emojis next to their contact name, though.
“It’s just a friend, Carisi. Relax.”
“If someone’s hassling you, you let me know, alright?” he insisted, narrowing his eyes at you.
You nodded in response, wondering for a split second if he knew about the situations with your old co-workers.
You decided to brush it off, finishing the page of notes you’d been writing and folding up the case file, returning it to your desk drawer. You just wanted to get home, and the bullpen was mostly empty. You hadn’t even realized it was almost ten.
You rode the subway for over an hour before you finally reached your stop. It sucked, but you didn’t have a car and it was the only way to get from Manhattan to your studio apartment in Queens that you needed to cancel your lease for. It was just one of the minor problems that came along with a quick job transfer, so you dealt with it. At least the rent wasn't too bad.
Heading towards your building in the dark, you noticed two men watching from across the street. You couldn’t see their faces, but one of them looked like O’Shea, a narcotics detective who’d hassled you for months.
You instinctively rested your hand on your gun holster as you walked towards your building. The men stared, and you recognized O’Shea’s face immediately. The other was Donnelly, the officer who had tried to rape you last month. You’d made a formal complaint to your boss, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was back on the street, free to stalk you again. Your blood ran cold.
You scanned into your apartment building's lobby and closed the door behind you, thankful for the protection. Hands shaking, you pulled out your phone and began climbing the stairs, looking behind you after each step. You went to your contacts and your finger hovered over the one person you knew would drop everything and come over, no matter how bad of an idea it might’ve been. Without a second thought, you clicked on Sonny’s name.
chapter two linked here
129 notes · View notes
samaraannhan20 · 1 year
Text
Pete Davidson Imagine: the 20th Anniversary
Tumblr media
A/N: I started writing this in September of 2022, but knew that I wanted it to be a longer work so I pushed it off, but I finally finished it and I am so proud of how it turned out. Enjoy!
Warnings: Set in non-covid 2021, fem!reader As soon as that alarm started going off you shut it off. Careful not to wake Pete up, you slowly got out of bed and headed into your kitchen. Last night, after Pete had gone to the bedroom, you had laid out all of the pans that you thought you would need the next morning, so as to not wake Pete up before breakfast was ready. As you started pulling things out of the fridge to start breakfast, you thought back to a year ago, and then 20 years ago. You knew today would be bad for him. It was the 20th anniversary of 9/11, which meant it was also the 20th anniversary of his father’s death. A year ago the anniversary had come around just 3 months after the two of you had started dating, and on the day of, Pete had texted you in the morning simply stating that he was going to be busy all day, and said nothing else to you all day. You knew, because you and him had previously had many conversations about your families and your past, so, instead of bothering him that day, you let him have his day of mourning, and waited for him to text you, whenever he was ready. Now, a year later, just three months over your one-year anniversary, the two of you shared an apartment in Staten Island, one of the nicest ones, near to his mother. Earlier that week, you had called Colson, because he had been through the anniversary with him before. “Just be there for him. Don’t make him leave the house all day, except for his annual dinner with his mom and sister. Just, just be you,” he had said, before saying goodbye and hanging up. That was when you had started planning the day in your head. Being there for the man you loved, was absolutely something you could do. Over the next thirty minutes you make pancakes, bacon, and eggs. You also brew coffee, and make one cup the way you like it,  and make one cup the way Pete likes. Very carefully you top Pete’s stack of pancakes with strawberries, chocolate chips, and whipped cream, making the toppings look like a smiley face. Then you carefully put his plate and yours on the tray, the two cups of coffee, and two cups of juice. You slowly walk down the hallway to your bedroom, and extra carefully open the door to your bedroom. When you walk in you are surprised to see Pete awake and on the phone with someone. “Yeah, Mom, we’ll be there at 7:30. Look, Y/N just came in,” he says, pointing the phone at you. “Hi Amy,” you say, as you keep walking towards the bed with the tray. You hear her say good morning in response, before Pete turns his phone back to himself. “Hey, sit up,” you say as you reach his side of the bed with the tray. He carefully sits up, being careful not to bump you. As you set the tray down, you take the phone from him as he holds it out to you, obviously wanting to be done with his conversation with his mother. “Hey Amy, it's me again. I actually just brought Pete breakfast, so we’re gonna let you go. We’ll be at the house by 7:15 tonight, I’ll make sure of it,” you say, shooting a look towards Pete. “Love you, see you later,” you finish, waving goodbye, and then hitting the end call button. “Okay, we’ve got a breakfast for champions. Eggs, just the way we both like them-” “Scrambled with cheese?” he interrupts you, already picking up his fork to dig in. “Yes,” you say with a chuckle, “and bacon, and pancakes with the works. Plus, coffee, just the way you like it. And one for me, the way I like it. Honestly it’s kinda a miracle I carried this all the way in here without tripping,” you say as you gently join him on the bed. The two of you sit in silence as you eat your breakfast, neither of you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room. After the two of you finish eating, Pete stands up to take everything back to the kitchen. “Want me to come with you?” you ask, not wanting him to have to take care of anything today. “No, I’ve got it,” he says, before walking out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. You sit there for a minute, thinking through your next step for the day. You bought all of the stuff yesterday to make a soothing bath in your bathroom, but you hadn’t decided if you wanted to  do that next or watch his favorite movie next. You could hear him kind of grumbling under his breath in the kitchen, so you decided to run the bath. You slid out of bed and stepped towards the bathroom, immediately turning the water on to the highest heat setting. Then you turn around and open the cabinet and get out the bath salts and bubble bath you had gotten the day before. As you dump them in, you can hear Pete walking towards the bedroom. “Baby? Where are you?” he asks as he comes into the room and sees you aren’t in the bed anymore. “I’m in here,” you say from the bathroom, and start to close everything up and check the water temperature. “Hi. What are you doing?” he asks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. “I ran you a bath, thought maybe it would make you feel a bit better,” you tell him, turning around in his arms. He looks at you in disbelief, before leaning down and softly kissing you. “I love you so much, you know that?” he says when he pulls away. “Yeah, I do. And I know today is going to be hard, so I want to help you through in any way that I can.” He smiles and pulls you close to him again. “Also, I love you.” After you say that he chuckles into your hair for a second, and then pulls away. “Are you going to join me?” he asks, toying with the bottom of your shirt. “I mean, if you want me to. But it’s your day of mourning, so I get to sit in the back. And no funny business. This bath is strictly for relaxing.” you say, chuckling. “Whatever I need to agree to to get you in that water with me,” he says as he bends down to kiss you one more time, before starting to take his clothes off. You slip your pajamas off and slide into the water, and as soon as you’re in he slides in as well. The two of you sit there with your arms around his arms as he lays back into your chest. You gently slide your hands up and down his arms. Taking a bath together is not something rare between the two of you, but something about what the day means and is to him makes it feel even more intimate. The two of you sit in the bath together until the water starts to run cold and your hands and feet are pruny, then you get out and dry off with the towels that you had purposefully left on the counter, choosing to use the guest towels today because they rarely get used and are therefore still super fluffy. After you dry off, you wrap your towel around you and walk towards the dresser in the bedroom. You grab a pair of pants and a tank top, and the both of you underwear,  and while you’re in the dresser grab Pete a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt. You toss them to him as he walks into the room, and the two of you get dressed silently. After Pete puts his clothes on, he flops on the bed, laying with one hand behind his head and the other on his stomach. When you finish getting dressed you crawl onto the bed, and curl up right next to him. He brings the hand that was behind his head to around your shoulders, and grabs the arm that you had thrown over his stomach with his hand, his thumb lovingly rubbing circles on your arm. “How are you feeling?” you ask after a few minutes in silence. “I’d be feeling a lot worse if I didn’t have you. Thank you for being here, and not letting me push you away today,” he says, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. “I would never be anywhere else,” you say, lifting your head to look at him. “I think it's almost one, do you want some lunch?” “Um, no. I don’t think so. I know my mom, and I know Casey, and tonight's dinner is going to be huge. They always cook all of his favorites. And then we alternate which of his favorite movies that we watch each year.” “That sounds fun,” you say in response, not sure if it’s supposed to be fun or not. “Yeah. We always have a good time. It’s a good way to remember him. And the evenings are never the hard part of this day. It’s when I first wake up, because at first I’m not thinking about what day it is, but then I’ll look at my phone and see September 11th on the screen, and then I remember,” he pauses to clear his throat, and you reach the hand that he isn’t holding up and softly scratch his head, because you know that it brings him comfort, “um, remember that I’ve gone x-amount of years without him now. It’s not until I’m back with my mom and Casey for our dinner that I feel okay. However, with you here, it’s completely different. I didn’t want to expose you to how empty I was last year. I mean we had basically just gotten together, and I didn’t want to screw anything up. That’s why I pushed you away last year,” he explains, and you stretch your neck to look up at him, noticing the tears that have begun to make their way down his cheeks. “Pete, I’ve known since the moment I met you that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing your illnesses make you do, and nothing that an anniversary of something makes you feel is going to scare me away. I’ll always be right beside you. You don’t have to worry about me getting up and walking out. I’ll always be right here,” you say as you stare directly into his eyes, wanting to make sure that he knows that you mean every word, with tears streaming from your own eyes as well. “I love you, I have pretty much since our first date, and I don’t imagine that stopping any time soon.” For a moment he just stares at you in silence, tears still falling from both of your eyes. But then he leans his head down, and crashes his lips into yours. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s messy, teeth and noses clashing, but it’s full of passion that words cannot explain. It’s intimate, and loving, and the two of you have never shared a moment like this before, not the entire time you had been together. It’s full of sadness, but love, so much love. When he finally pulls away, in order to catch his breath, the two of you are panting, and completely tangled together. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone more than I love you,” he says after he catches his breath. “And I don’t think I ever will. And I don’t want to either. You are the best person I could have asked to have been given to share my life with.” “And you are the best person I could have been given,” you say in response, before laying your head on his chest, neither of you wanting to move and detangle from each other. Before you know it you both fall asleep like that. You wake up suddenly to someone’s phone ringing on the bedside table. You groan and reach over Pete and grab the phone that was ringing, and answer it without looking. “Hello?” you whisper into the phone, not sure if Pete was woken by the phone or not. “Y/N?” Amy’s voice comes through the phone. When you realize it was her you gently scramble out of bed after whispering “one second”, and walk out of the room. You shut the door behind you, and walk into the living room, and sit on the couch before exhaling and bringing the phone back to your ear, giving Amy the okay to continue. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asks as soon as she’s been given the okay. “Oh, uh, no. We had fallen back asleep, and I didn’t want to wake Pete up,” you respond, laughing a little. “You know how he is, he can sleep through a lot, but typically tends to wake up if he hears someone talking.” “Ha, yes that is very true. Well, I was just calling to ask him if you guys could stop at the bakery on your way over, and pick up the cake that I ordered. I always try to remember to order Scott’s favorite cake from there, but this year I almost forgot, so I ordered it last night for pick up today. However, with all of the food cooking I can’t leave the house to go pick it up, and Casey stayed here last night, so she’s helping me cook so she ca-” “Amy,” you say, cutting her off before she gets too far into her tangent, “we can pick it up. No worries. We’ll just have to leave a bit earlier, no big,” you say, turning to look at the clock seeing that it’s already three, meaning that you need to hop in the shower sooner rather than later. “Oh, thank you so much Y/N!” Amy says, and you just shake your head. “It’s really no big deal Amy. I need to go start waking Pete up and get into the shower though, so I’m going to let you go. See you tonight,” you say and she says goodbye and then hangs up the phone. You pull Pete’s phone away from your face, grinning when you see the picture he has of the two of you on his lock screen. Slowly you stand up and make your way back to the bedroom. As you walk in, Pete starts to stir in the bed, and you sit down on the edge next to him, putting his phone back down on your bedside table, and  gently rubbing your hand over his chest. “Hey baby. You need to get up. We napped for like three hours,” you say with a light chuckle, and he grabs you and pulls you down to him. You laugh, and try to pull away with no success. “Pete, let me go,” you say laughing, still trying to pull away. “I need to shower before we have to leave. And now we have to leave by 6:45 so that we can stop at the bakery and pick up the cake. Your mom won’t have time.” “Ugh, fine. Go shower. I’ll shower after you,” he says, finally releasing you from his grasp. You laugh and lean down, placing a kiss on his lips, pulling away just as he tries to grasp at you again, and laughing as you run into the bathroom. You take a rather quick shower, not bothering to shut the bathroom door, meaning that you can hear Pete in the other room. “I’m fine Colson,” he says, presumably into his phone. “I honestly feel amazing today. Y/N’s been doing an amazing job of not bugging me about it, and not forcing me to do anything. She made me breakfast in bed this morning, then we took a bath, and then we fell asleep,” he says, and you can hear that he is continuing, but he walks out of the room as he does.. As you shower you space out thinking about everything this anniversary means to people who lost someone on that day. Your eyes start to water as you even try to imagine how much it would hurt having to live this day every year, with so many remembrances going on throughout the day. It is so hard to imagine how Pete usually feels surrounding this day, and how you have apparently made it better for him, something you never could have imagined yourself doing. Slowly you turn off the water and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body and your hair. You stand in front of the mirror as you do your after-shower routine(lotion, leave-in conditioner, etc.) and then turn to leave the room after hanging your hair towel back up. Walking into your closet, you try to guess what you should wear to this dinner. It feels casual, but at the same time you don’t want to show up too casual. You skim your hands through  the clothes you have hanging on your side of the closet, and sort of zone out while still trying to decide what to wear. You’re so in the zone that you don’t even hear Pete enter the closet, even though he’s speaking directly to you. “Y/N? Hello?” he says when he realizes you aren’t all there at the moment. With the sound of your name, you finally jump out of your head, and whip your head to look at him. “Sorry babe, what did you say?” you say as you look at him, and he just looks at you, a mixture of confusion and worry on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks you, walking closer to you and wrapping his arms around you. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just wasn’t sure what I should wear tonight.” “Anything you wear will be fine. It’s not a fancy event, it’s just like one of our monthly dinners. This one is just on the exact same day every year,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, trying to really show you that it doesn’t matter. “So, what I was wearing earlier would be fine?” “Baby, I literally just said that anything would be fine,” he says with a breathy laugh, “yes, that would be perfectly fine. I’m going to take a quick shower,” he says, and leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips, before pulling away and going into the bathroom. You quickly get dressed, before leaving the closet. You grab your phone off the bedside table, after not being on it all day, and head back into the bathroom to sit and do your hair and makeup.  You sit down at the vanity you have in the bathroom, and pull out your blow dryer, before grabbing your comb to run it through your hair before you start doing your hair. Ten minutes later your hair is dried, and Pete has made his way in and out of your shared closet, fully dressed. He comes up behind you while you put on some mascara, and just looks at you. “Do you need something?” you ask with a laugh, turning to look at him when you’re done. “No, I just think you’re really beautiful,” he says, leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Also we should probably head out soon, just in case there’s traffic or a line at the bakery.” You nod in agreement and stand up, heading out of the room, with him following close behind. “Do you want to drive or do you want me to drive?” he asks when you get to the front door with everything in your hands, looking at the key hook in front of you. “Whatever you want P,” you say, holding the flowers you had gotten for his mom in your hands. He nods and grabs his keys, before opening the door for you. You thank him and the two of you walk to the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage. You ride the elevator in comfortable silence, just enjoying the presence of each other. The car was luckily parked pretty close to the elevator, and as you get to it Pete opens the car door for you, leaning down and giving you a quick kiss before taking the stuff you were holding and putting it in the backseat. When he got in the driver's seat he handed you his phone to let you choose the music that played. When you put on Taylor Swift and show tunes he was not at all surprised. He gently placed his hand on your thigh as he drove to the bakery. There was almost no traffic, and no line at the bakery, so you made it to his old house in record time, making you really early. When you got there he didn’t immediately turn off the car, instead just sat there and stared ahead, absentmindedly picking at his nail beds. “Pete, are you okay?” you ask him, grabbing his hand in yours so that he would stop picking. He shakes himself out of it and turns to you. “Thank you for today. If it wasn’t for this dinner I probably wouldn’t have spent a lot of time thinking about him like I normally do. This has been the best anniversary of lo-losing him,” he chokes out, starting to tear up. “An-and I couldn’t have imagined it going this well without you by my side. Without you I would have spent the day in bed, just moping around.” At this point your eyes have started watering as well, and you’re barely holding everything back. You unbuckle your seatbelt and launch yourself across the console into his arms, ending up sitting on his lap in the passenger seat. You nuzzle your face into his neck for a few minutes, his head bent into yours as well, before pulling away. “I don’t want you to ever think that you have to hide anything from me,” you say to him, looking into his eyes. “I will never judge you for feeling emotions like a real human. This day is hard. It’s supposed to be. But together we can get through it,” you say, and he buries his head in your neck, and you feel the tears dripping down his face onto your neck. The two of you sit in the car like that for a few more minutes, neither of you noticing that at one point Casey opened the door and peeked out to see what was taking the two of you so long. She’d seen her brother cry so many times before that she could tell that was what was happening, so she closed the door and just let the two of you be.  When you both finally stop crying, you clamber back over into the passenger seat, and look at him. “We probably need to go inside,” he says with a little chuckle, wiping at his face with the backs of his hands. You nod in response and wipe your face off as well, before opening the door. You grab the flowers out of the backseat as he grabs the cake, and the two of you walk up to the door, not bothering to knock, just walking in. “Ma, we’re here,” he says as you get inside, both of you heading for the kitchen, knowing that was where Amy was. As you walk by the living room you see Casey sitting on the couch, and Pete gently knocks her  on the head as he walks by getting an upset “hey!” in response. When you arrive in the kitchen Pete puts the plate down on the counter before leaning down to hug his mom. You watch with a slight smile on your face as the two have a long hug, something they both obviously needed. When they pull away, Pete circles to the other side of the kitchen and Amy opens her arms for you to step into a hug as well. You quickly set the flowers down and step in, also needing the motherly hug today. When you pull away you realize that all three of you are crying again, and you all chuckle. The four of you spend the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company, and you love hearing stories about Scott that you hadn’t heard before. When you get home and are laying in bed, Pete says something that makes you cry all over again. “My dad would have loved you. I wish you could have met him.” As he says it you can hear the tears in his voice, and you also start to cry, and the two of you fall asleep just holding each other, loving each other, more than either one of you could have ever imagined loving someone. No words are spoken, but you both know that you’re thinking the same thing. “I’m going to marry you someday.”
63 notes · View notes
tctteredwings · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ lily james, demigirl, they/them ] — whoa! HOLLY BERNE just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 8 YEARS, working as a BLOGGER/INFLUENCER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 33 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit DITZY and HOT-HEADED, but i know them to be COMPASSIONATE and ENTHUSIASTIC. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to STATEN ISLAND!
IN A NUTSHELL; an inability to stay still, a pack of dachshunds dutifully following behind them, messy curls, a different loungefly backpack every time you see them, a pocket full of candy, a pen tucked behind their ear, dancing until the sun comes up.
tw: death, parental death
ABOUT.
Name: Holly Joy Berne Nicknames: Hol, Hols Age: Thirty-three Date of Birth: 25th December 1990 Birthplace: Dún Laoghaire, Dublin, Ireland Occupation: Blogger/influencer Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Grey-romantic/pansexual
They’re an Irish beauty who grew up in Dublin as part of a massive family.
Middle child of six (along with their twin brother).
Born on Christmas Day… full name’s Holly Joy, brother is Joseph, you can see where this is going. Their mom really loves Christmas!
They wanted the spotlight from a young age, desperate to be heard and seen, they took dancing and singing lessons, even attempted acting at one point and figure skating.
Wanted to attend Juilliard in NYC so spent their teen years working their ass off, cleaning in the ferry port, a paper round, babysitting and dog walking. If they could fit it in, they’d do it.
Sometime during sixth form they came to terms with their gender confusion, coming out as a demigirl and asking everyone around them to use they/them pronouns. They won’t be offended if you use she/her by accident as they’re very much in touch with their feminine side still, but they is their main preference.
It was another couple of years before they discovered that they were also grey-romantic, romance just didn’t come easily and they weren’t all too bothered. One night stands and fwbs was the way to go.
At 19 Juilliard came a calling! It was a shock but one they’d been so desperate for, so they packed up and moved to the States… a couple of grand short.
Freshman year went well, they lived in halls and embraced everything the city had to offer. Second year came around and they found themselves with no money, living in an apartment with four other people, infested with roaches and so run down it was a health hazard.
A little over a year later they were forced to move out and drop out of college, moving in with family they had in London, still wanting somewhere with opportunity.
Eventually set up a blog, telling tales of their time in NYC, their discoveries in gender and sexuality. They attempted YouTube as well, but it was a bit of a fail, they never had the patience to actually make the videos. Eventually Instagram worked out for them, along with TikTok in more recent years. Their main focus was and always will be the LGBTQIA+ community.
It was then they made the decision to move back to New York City, finding themselves a small apartment on Staten Island.
Their father passed away in September 2019 and they were forced to go back home to Ireland for a couple of months. Brought half of their family back with them when they returned, including their twin brother.
Dog mom to a pack of rowdy dachshunds (Wednesday, Morticia, Sally and Mrs Lovett) and usually found fighting to control them early in the morning before starting work for the day.
Hates to admit it, but sometimes they come across as kind of dim. They’re also hyper af, constantly bouncing around the place and dancing (they never gave that up), talk way too much, and are too loud for a lot of people.
Lived:
1990: Dublin, Ireland 2009: New York City, New York 2011: Notting Hill, London 2015: Staten Island, New York
10 notes · View notes
karahalloway · 1 year
Text
Sleepless in New York: Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night
Tumblr media
Series: TRR
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.
Masterlist: Sleepless in New York
Chapter Summary: Drake locates Christian... but that doesn't mean his night's over.
Word Count: 6,600
Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst)
Chapter theme song:
A/N1: Apologies this took sooo long to get out! I started working on this chapter back in November, but I got stuck several times, then I went to chase the shiny butterfly that was Polo!, and then I was busy collaborating on the Mardi Gras Mayhem fic. But... after much ado, here is the (long-awaited!) chapter! Hope it meets expectations!
A/N2: A day early, but this is also my submission for the Choices April Challenge. This chapter would fall under the ‘Just want to be with you’.
Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night
Tumblr media
Ten minutes later, I'm standing at the St. George Ferry Terminal on Staten Island, wearing a standard-issue NYPD leather jacket (courtesy of O'Sullivan), scanning the disembarking passengers, on the lookout for Chris.
I chew the inside of my mouth nervously as I feel my foot tap against the polished concrete floor.
Time is everything right now, and unfortunately, I don’t have much of it in the bank.
I can only hope that Hayley hasn’t had a chance to post the photo yet. Because if she has, then it’s only a matter of time before someone recognises Chris and blows up the carefully faked narrative of his whereabouts.
And then all bets are off...
Because even if we manage to make it back to Cordonia without any nasty surprises, chances are good that the paps will twist even the most innocent selfie into some kind of dig about Chris and his fitness to rule. While a snap of him getting kissed by an American girl days before the start of the social season where he is supposed to choose a wife...? There’s only one way that’s gonna end. With him smack bang in the middle of a scandal that we definitely don’t need right now.
And hence my one rule for this trip — no fuckin' photos.
Not that anyone ever listens to me...
Thankfully, I don't have to wait long. At this time of night, the ferry is basically empty and the terminal deserted.
The automatic doors in front of me whoosh open and I catch sight of Chris, holding hands with Hayley, laughing at something she'd just said.
My gut tightens.
I've never seen him happier.
But unfortunately for my best friend, this impromptu escapade's about to get shut down.
"Pleasant trip?" I ask, striding up to them.
Chris throws his head up in surprise. "Drake?"
"You're a cop?" gasps Hayley in disbelief.
I follow her gaze to the NYPD insignia patched onto the jacket's sleeve. "Heh. No. This ain't mine."
"Then how did y—?"
"Put two-and-two together?" I ask dryly, deliberately sidestepping the question she’s actually asking. "Simple maths."
Chris' shoulders drop as he lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I guess I am rather predictable..."
"Good thing, too," I drawl. "Otherwise I'd've had to call in the cavalry, and then we'd be having a very different kind of conversation."
Hayley's widen. "The caval—? You mean the FBI? Is that what you are?"
I suppress a snort. Seriously? The second time in just as many nights? Maybe I should drop my resumé off at Quantico...
"No," I reply simply before shifting my focus back to Chris.
"I am sorry," he sighs, catching fully onto my meaning. "I didn't intend to cause a ruckus. I honestly thought we could get here and back before anyone noticed."
"You know you could've just said the word, and we would've made this happen, right?" I ask. "There was no need for you to cut and run like that."
"To be fair, this was all quite spur of the moment, wasn't it?" he admits, sneaking a glance at Hayley, who blushes in response. "We were just talking back at the club, and I happened to mention that we never got to see the Statue of Liberty this morning... To which Hayley admitted to always having wanted to take a night-time ferry tour... And all of a sudden, one thing led to another, and—"
"Yeah, I get it," I interject. "And I don't blame you for doing it. But next time, leave your phone on. Regardless of whatever kind of BS Leo tries to sell you." I fix him with a pointed look.
Chris has the good graces to flush embarrassedly. "Duly noted."
Hayley shakes her head. "But his phone was—"
"And speaking of phones..." adds O'Sullivan, strolling up with a half-eaten Boston Cream donut in his hand, "I'm going to have to ask you to hand yours over, ma'am."
Hayley's mouth drops open. "My phone?"
"Yes, ma'am," O'Sullivan affirms, popping the rest of the donut into his mouth.
"What is the meaning of this, officer?" demands Chris, moving in front of a shocked Hayley.
"Chris..." I warn in a low voice. "Back off."
He throws me a disbelieving look. "But—"
"We have reason to believe that the device contains information pertinent to a matter under investigation," O'Sullivan clarifies.
Chris reels back. "What investigation?"
"A joint investigation," comes the stone-faced reply.
Hayley's face drains of colour.
I shake my head. Christ, O'Sullivan can be a bastard when he wants to be.
But the situation can’t be helped.
There are sensitive pictures of Chris and Hayley on that device that cannot be allowed to see the light of day. And despite the fact that O'Sullivan’s skirting a very dangerous line right now, we have to sacrifice one form of privacy to protect another.
Because even though O'Sullivan’s an NYPD officer, sworn to uphold the laws of the Empire State, he’s also duty bound to look out for his principle. So, he offered to play bad cop. In part because he actually is a cop.
He turns back to Hayley. "Were you aboard the recently docked Staten Island Ferry?"
Chris heaves an exasperated sigh. "How is that—?"
O'Sullivan ignores him. "Answer the question, ma'am."
"Yes," squeaks Hayley.
"Damn it, Drake!" snaps Chris. "Do something!"
"Can't, buddy..." I inform him flatly. "Don't have jurisdiction here, remember?"
"So, you're just going to let him—?"
"Impeding a police officer from carrying out their public duties is a criminal offence," I point out, folding my arms. "So, I suggest you let the man do his job."
Chris glares at me.
But he’s gonna have to suck it up.
Because he got himself into this avoidable mess as a result of his impulsiveness and complete disregard for our standard security protocols. So, now it’s my job to clean up after him.
Regardless of how it makes him — or Hayley — feel.
"While onboard, did you take photographs with a cellular device?" continues O'Sullivan.
Hayley's basically quaking in her boots. "Yes, but—"
"And in the course of taking such photographs, did you—?"
"—but, I didn't use my phone!"
The intensity of Hayley's outburst catches everyone off guard.
I shake my head. "Then what—?"
"She used my phone," explains Chris tersely. "To take a picture of me with the Statue of Liberty in the background... so I could commemorate the once-in-a-lifetime experience."
"But she—"
"—may have taken a few additional pictures as well," admits Chris with a self-conscious smile, as his eyes finds Hayley again. "Somewhat spontaneously, I'll admit, but—"
"None on hers?" I press.
Chris lifts his eyes to mine steadfastly. "No. Her phone stayed in her purse the whole time. So, whatever it is that you are accusing her of, she did at my behest and therefore should be relieved of any and all responsibility."
I feel the tension in my shoulders unwind slightly. Some goddamn common sense, at last!
But Chris isn’t off the hook yet...
"Did you share any pictures with her?" I ask.
"He tried," Hayley admits. "But for some reason, there was no signal on the ferry."
I let out an explosive breath. Thank Christ for that signal jammer!
Never thought I'd actually be thanking Leo for anything. But here we are...
Hayley is still glaring at us. "Well, aren't you going to ask to see his phone, then? Seeing as you're so concerned about... whatever it is that you're concerned about?"
I glance at Chris. She's got a point...
He pulls out his phone with a nod of acknowledgment, knowing we have to continue playing this game for the sake of his cover. "Here you are, officer."
Taking it, O'Sullivan makes a bit of a show of flipping through Chris' camera roll before handing the device back. "Thank you, sir. Looks like we got bad intel. None of the images contain anything pertinent to our investigation." He throws me a dirty look.
I shrug. Shit happens.
But the important thing is that we’re in the clear... and my ass is no longer on the line.
"So... that's it? asks Hayley cautiously. "We're free to go?"
"Not quite," I admit, meeting Chris' eye.
He drops his gaze in resignation before turning to Hayley. "As delightful as this spontaneous outing has been, I am afraid we must call it a night."
Her mouth falls open. "Just like that?"
"Unfortunately so," he confirms, lifting her hand gently to his lips. "But believe me when I say that you made my night, Hayley."
A blush rises to her cheeks. "I don't know about that..."
"Truly," he asserts, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. "I am forever grateful..."
"Jesus, I'm about to get diabetes..." huffs O'Sullivan under his breath.
I elbow him in the ribs.
"...and as a small token of my appreciation, I hope you would allow us to escort you home," finishes Chris with a meaningful look in my direction.
I can't help but scoff. Well played, buddy. Well played.
But I guess I owe him one after gatecrashing his date the way I have. And let's face it — we can’t exactly leave the girl stranded on the wrong side of the Hudson without a safe way to get home. So, we might as well kill two birds with one stone.
"Sure," I concede. "She can ride back with us."
"In your drea—"
O'Sullivan grunts as I nail him in the side again.
"Oh, you really don't have t—" demurs Hayley.
"But I want to," insists Chris, turning the full force of his emerald gaze on her.
She wilts under his sincerity with a blush. "Well, in that case..."
"What the hell, Walker?" hisses O'Sullivan under his breath as Chris offers his arm to Hayley to lead her from the ferry terminal. "Finding your missing prince is one thing, but you can't just go around handing out free rides to civilians like—"
"Trust me," I reply quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'll make it worth your while."
He snorts. "I already paid for the donuts."
"This is a bit more substantial than some Dunkin's," I assure him.
"Better be," he declares. "Kerosene ain't cheap, Lieutenant."
I throw my head up. "You've done your homework."
"What can I say?" he shrugs with a smirk. "I'm good at my job."
"And if you've read my file," I reply, recovering quickly, "you'll know that I am too."
"Seeing is believing, Walker," O'Sullivan reminds me as we exit the terminal hot on Chris and Hayley's heels.
I roll my eyes. "Hardass..."
But, I can understand his scepticism. This is the first time the two of us have officially worked together, and in this job, trust doesn’t come easy, or cheap.
So, I’m gonna let his attitude slide.
Hayley stumbles to a stop in front of us. "Why is there a—?"
"Had to get here somehow..."
Her jaw drops as she turns to gape at me. "So, you flew in a helicopter?"
"Faster than swimming," I tell her with a shrug.
Hayley stares at me like I was insane.
"And it's not waiting for stragglers, so if you want a lift, you'd better move it," prompts O'Sullivan, striding past her towards the idling chopper.
"Hold on. He's coming with us?" asks Hayley in disbelief.
"It's his bird," I shout over the roar of the rotor blades. "So, yeah."
"His—?" Her eyes widen. "Wait. Are you guys... arresting us?"
I fix her with a pointed look. "See any handcuffs?"
"Then why are we getting into a helicopter with a cop!" she demands, stubbornly throwing the breaks on a few feet from the aircraft.
"Because he's doing us a favour," I explain with a sigh. "So if you—"
"No!" she protests. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are! Because if you're not cops and you're not FBI then—"
Chris steps assuringly up to her. "Hayley. There is nothing nefarious underfoot. I promise. We are simply—"
"Diplomats," I interject quickly, not 100% confident that Chris won't choose this moment to come clean about who he really is. "From Europe."
"Diplomats?" queries Hayley, eyeing the two of us uncertainly.
"Here on an unofficial, turn-and-burn visit," I confirm. It’s basically the truth. The best lies always are.
"Unofficial?" she frowns. "You mean secret?"
"You make it sound much more suspenseful than it in fact is," chuckles Chris, holding a hand out to help her into the ‘copter.
"But we are trying to keep a low profile," I remind them.
She mulls over our responses. "So, that cop—?"
"Doing us a favour, like I said."
"What's the holdup, boys?" shouts O'Sullivan from the cockpit.
"Nothing!" I holler back over my shoulder as Hayley finally climbs in...
...while simultaneously throwing a hand out to intercept Chris as he's about to follow suit.
He meets my eye quizzically.
"Not with that kit in your pocket, buddy," I tell him. "I've had more than enough excitement for one night."
His brows furrow. "Isn't it just—?"
"It can down the chopper," I reply flatly, holding out my hand.
Chris pales. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he quickly palms me the signal jammer without further protest.
Killing the power to the device, I pocket it and hop in after Chris.
"'Bout time, Walker," observes O'Sullivan dryly as I pull the door closed.
Securing the hatch, I flick my middle finger 'round, giving O'Sullivan the go to take off while simultaneously flipping him off.
He throws his head back with a laugh as he relays the instructions to Hendricks.
The pilot revs the throttle, and we start to lift into the air.
Dropping into the seat across from Chris, I pull the seatbelt on as I fire off a quick text to Schweitzer to let him know that we were inbound back to the hotel. Stowing the device, I pull the headset on just in time to hear Hayley's gasp over the intercom.
Glancing up, I see her latched onto Chris, eyeing the rapid retreat of the terra firma with a confused mix of emotions on her face.
Chris's voice crackles over the intercom. "Exciting, isn't it?"
She swallows hard, tightening her hold on his arm. "You... you could say that..."
His face clouds with concern. "Do you... suffer from acrophobia by any chance?"
"W-what?" she stammers, glancing back at him nervously.
"Acrophobia," he repeats. "Fear of heights."
She shakes her head. "I... I've just never flown before."
"Ah," nods Chris in understanding. "Some trepidation is perfectly understandable, then. But, as someone who has been flying since infancy, I can assure you that it is quite safe."
"Promise?"
"Solemnly," he assures her, covering her hand in his. "I wouldn't dream of putting you in harm's way. And, if it helps at all, you are welcome to focus your attention on me."
I scoff under my breath as Hayley lifts her gaze to Chris' like clockwork.
Guy’s slicker'n a greased pig on ice...
But I can’t really blame him. It’s his last shot at freedom before the start of the season, so he’s entitled to bring his A-game...
...even if his play had cost me mine.
I give myself a mental kick.
Quit it, you ass.
This is Chris' time. Not mine.
And I’m not gonna let some misplaced sense of resentment fuck up what’s left of this trip.
Especially since I only have myself to blame.
For dragging my feet around Gale. For second-guessing myself... and her. And for letting myself fall for her in the first place.
I heave a breath as I stare out of the cockpit.
I fucked up. Big time.
Don't get hooked.
That’s my number one rule.
Because I have no time and zero interest in anything resembling a serious relationship. It’s too distracting, too much work and I probably wouldn't be able to sustain it anyway. At least not without a level of disclosure that’s way higher than what I’m prepared to give after just a handful of dates. And even then there’s no guarantee that all the late nights, erratic schedules and constant jet-setting won’t drive a massive wedge between whatever promises we make to each other.
Hell, this life literally destroyed my family.
Yet, here I am, despite everything, wishing it’s Harper that I’m sat next to right now, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine, smelling the honey scent of her hair as we whip over the city.
Would she be clutching my hand nervously, like Hayley is Chris'? Or would she be pressed up against the window, hazel-green eyes sparkling with excitement as she sought out each famous landmark? Or would she be on my lap, taking me for a very different kind of ride 2,000 feet over the city, the view outside forgotten?
I swallow a groan as I shift uncomfortably in the hard seat.
Christ, I’m in trouble...
Not only had I torpedoed my own rules like a bull in a china shop, but I've decided that it'd be a great fuckin’ idea to fall for a girl who lives literally on the other side of the world, and who I have no chance of ever seeing again.
Because the social season is starting in a few short days, and it’s going to eat up literally all of my time. In part because the season’s a mess of high-profile public engagements across disparate venues around the country, and in part because Chris is now the Heir Apparent and that means that I’m going to have to be even more on the ball when it comes to security arrangements.
So, there’s no way in hell that — even if I want to — I’m going to be able to hop back over the Pond and find Gale, much less spend any kind of meaningful time with her.
And I want to. Desperately. Beyond the fact that I have an incurable itch in my pants from having failed to close the deal.
Because no girl has ever had such a lightning bolt effect on me. And I can’t ignore the lodestone-like attraction that went beyond anything I've ever felt before.
But life obviously has a malicious sense of humour when it comes to throwing curve balls, because short of giving Bast — and Chris — the finger and resigning, I literally have no cards to play.
And I’m not gonna leave my brother or my commanding officer (who’s also my uncle in all but name) in the lurch during one of the busiest periods of the royal calendar, just so I can chase after a girl who may or may not actually want to see me again.
Especially after the way I walked out on her earlier...
I shake my head morosely as we begin our descent onto the hotel roof.
There’s no two ways about it. Because regardless of what’s happened — and didn't — I’m going to have to accept that I've been dealt a shit hand and the only available option is to cut my losses and fold.
Because me and her? Not gonna happen. On any level.
So, if I’m to have any hope of extricating myself from this irrational infatuation that I've inadvertently thrown myself into, I know that I’m just gonna have to pretend that the past two nights never happened...
...and maybe that way I can salvage some semblance of sanity before I lose my mind completely.
The chopper touches down.
Yanking my headset and seatbelt off, I immediately set about throwing the door open and helping Chris and Hayley disembark.
Because if there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I have two options for pulling myself out of my ass: getting physical, or getting shit-faced drunk. And since alcohol’s not a possibility right now — at least not until Chris is safely back in his hotel room and the door has been locked for the night — I’m going to have to keep moving and keep myself busy.
"Get her inside," I shout to Chris. "I'll be over in a sec."
With a nod, he wraps his arm around Hayley to help shield her from the worst of the down draft as he begins leading her towards the hotel-access door on the other side of the roof.
Turning back towards the chopper, I yell up O'Sullivan, "Thanks for the assist!"
"Any time, Lieutenant," he winks back at me as I shrug out of the loaner jacket. "You Cordonians sure know how to make a guy's night interesting!"
"Yeah," I scoff, tossing the heavy leather up to him. "A little too interesting..."
"Beats sitting at a desk all night," he grins, deftly snapping the jacket out of the air... until his expression changes as he clocks the added weight. "You leave your Tic-Tac's in here, or something, Walker?"
"Nope," I reply. "That lil' keepsake's for you, Deputy Inspector."
O'Sullivan frowns as he reaches into the inner-left pocket... and blanches as he pulls out the signal jammer. "You've got to be shitting me!"
I catch his eye with a level look. “Told you I'd make this trip worth your while..."
"Yeah, when you said that, I thought you were talking about a case of Bud, or something," he admits dryly, inspecting the jammer. Looking back up, he adds, "You realise this isn't some rookie tech off Amazon, right?"
I nod. "It's why I figured you'd want it off the streets."
Leo'd probably filched it from the Guard armoury, the sneaky bastard. Which means it’s military-grade and has no place in a civilian setting.
O'Sullivan chuckles. "You figured right. This bad boy could've landed your Prince Charming with a hefty fine... or some serious jail time if he'd been caught with it."
"Trust me, I know," I grunt. "But at least this way you have a plausible story for commandeering the chopper."
"Not to mention a shit load of paperwork," he grumbles with a sour look. But I can see that he's not that begrudging of the situation.
"Yeah, well," I shrug, "no pain, no gain, O'Sullivan. And speaking of, I should get going before Chris blows up all our hard work by disappearing again."
"No sweat, Walker," grins O'Sullivan. "Like I said, it's been interesting."
"Glad to’ve been of service," I smirk in reply as I yank the chopper door closed again.
From behind the cockpit window, O'Sullivan lifts two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before turning back Hendricks.
As the rotors start to pick up speed again, I quickly vacate the landing circle. Loping across the roof, I catch up with Chris and Hayley just before the stairwell door slams shut behind them.
"Everything alright?" queries Chris as the motion-sensitive lights flicker on overhead in the tight space.
"Yup," I confirm, quickly moving to the front. I’m not expecting any nasty surprises on our way down, but you can never be too careful. "Just had to square a few lose ends."
"What happened to your shirt?" exclaims Hayley, suddenly catching sight of my bare chest.
"Functional breakdown," I mutter, yanking the wayward front panels together as I start making my way down the steps.
"He means it ripped," clarifies Chris wryly in response to Hayley's confused silence.
"Yeah, I can see that, but—"
"It ain't important," I cut in gruffly, picking up the pace.
It’s bad enough that I can’t get Gale out of my head. I don’t need the remnants of my unfulfilled night with her turning into a conversation piece.
Because the last thing I feel like doing — after everything that’s gone wrong tonight — is talking. About any of it. As it sure as hell isn’t gonna change anything, and it’s definitely not anyone’s business but mine and Gale's.
Reaching the landing, I divert towards the nondescript door that’s our gateway back into the hotel proper. Cracking it open, I do a quick visual sweep for potential threats before opening it more fully to let Chris and Hayley through as well.
Hayley frowns as she surveys our surroundings. "You brought us to... a gym?"
"It's the fastest way to the elevators," I tell her, striding past the glass-encased room that houses the top-of-the-line fitness equipment. "Unless you want to tackle a dozen flight of stairs in those heels?"
"No, thanks."
"Yeah. Didn't think so."
"Is he always so grumpy?" whispers Hayley to Chris... loud enough for me to hear.
"Only on Thursdays and Fridays," replies Chris in equally (un)hushed tones.
Hayley snorts in response.
I feel my jaw clench.
But we’re two yards from the elevators and the end of this fucked up night.
So, I don't let myself rise to the needling, and focus instead on the task at hand, which is making sure that Chris got back to his room without incident.
Arriving at the metal doors, I press the button to call the lift. One arrives almost instantaneously and we file in, Chris and Hayley trying and failing to hide their conspiratorial sniggers as they cast me sidelong glances.
I roll my eyes, but otherwise remain silent.
Just have to drop Chris off, and then escort Hayley down to the lobby and into a cab.
Then I’m done.
Luckily, the well-greased elevator ride is mercifully short, and we arrive on our booked-out floor within seconds.
The doors ping open.
I open my mouth...
...but Chris is faster.
"Could I tempt you with a nightcap?" he asks Hayley, extending his hand hopefully down towards the end of the hallway. "My room has quite an impressive selection of refreshments."
"Sounds like being a diplomat comes with perks," she observes with a smile.
"Absolutely," agrees Chris, placing a hand in the small of her back to guide her towards his room. “Especially when you have a beautiful companion to share them with.”
I slam my mouth shut as I step out of the lift after them.
So much for that plan...
Chris obviously isn’t ready to call it a night. But who can blame him? He has a hot girl hanging on his every word and gesture, who just agreed to come back to his hotel room. He'd be a fool not to take full advantage of the opportunity.
And honestly? With the way they’re looking at each other, I'll be surprised if they even made it to the mini bar (let alone to the bed) before they jump each other like a pair of horny jackrabbits...
...Christ knew Gale and I hadn't.
I shake my head. 
Put a sock in it, Walker!
Yanking my phone out of my pocket to distract myself from the relentlessly graphic memories, I send a quick sit-rep to Schweitzer to let him know that we've made it safely back to the hotel, and everyone can finally unclench their sphincters.
That said, I have no idea what Leo, Max and Tariq are up to… or where the hell they even are. But they’re not my priority. If they got themselves lost, locked up, or killed, that’s their problem. Not mine.
I've had enough of running around the greater New York metropolitan area for one night, praying and hoping while chasing down partial leads and best-guesses. And I’m not gettin' paid to stress about nobody but Chris, so everyone else can fall down an open man-hole and break their neck for all I care.
I’m fuckin' done with this night.
"Care to join us?"
Chris’ voice jars me from my thoughts. Glancing up, I can see him standing in the doorway of the Carnegie Suite, looking at me expectantly.
"Huh?"
"For a drink," he clarifies, no doubt catching the dumbass expression on my face. "Seeing as I ended up pulling you away from... whatever you were doing—" his gaze flicks pointedly to the ripped buttons of my shirt, "—I feel I should offer you at least some recompense. Even if it is just a late-night libation."
"Nah," I say with a shake of my head, slotting my phone away. "I'm beat. I'm calling it a night."
"Well, if you change your mind..."
I scoff. "Trust me, I won't. You don't need me crashing that particular party."
I nod my chin towards the inside of the room where Hayley is already in the process of shrugging out of her sparkly jacket as she stands silhouetted by the glow emanating from the Manhattan nightscape behind her.
Chris glances briefly over his shoulder with a wry grin. "No, I suppose not. Rain check?"
"Rain check," I agree, bumping my fist against his. "On the condition your ass stays in that room 'til departure time. And you don’t take or share any photos with her. Including the ones from the ferry. Otherwise you'll be owing me a helluva lot more than a fancy, overpriced drink.”
Chris cracks a laugh as he pulls the door around. "Duly noted! 'Night, mate! I owe you one!”
"Damn right you do!”I reply with a smirk, pulling my own keycard out. "Play safe."
"I always do," winks Chris, reaching around to slip the 'Do Not Disturb' placard onto the door handle.
A low exhale escapes me as the door — at last — clicks softly closed.
Christ, what a clusterfuck...!
Had I known that this day’s going to devolve into a never-abating conflagration of wildfires, I'd've probably got myself hammered before breakfast.
Because getting though the past 24 hours even partially sober has tested every one of my nerves. And given the fact that I've gotten basically no sleep the night before, I’m near about past going.
Which is probably why I can’t think one straight thought without tripping over Gale.
I clench my eyes shut. Definitely time to clock out...
Opening my eye, I slide the keycard into the reader with a chirp. Pushing the door handle down, I step into the darkened room.
Not bothering with the lights — given that the curtains were still open and the background glare of the nearby buildings provided plenty of illumination — I punt the door shut behind me, and head straight for the mini bar.
I may have turned down Chris's offer for a late-night drink, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna crash out sober. If anything, after the way this trip has snowballed into the definition of 'fucked up beyond all recognition', I’m in half a mind to straight up kill my liver...
...I just don’t want to do it while playing awkward third-wheel in the other room.
Arriving at the fridge, I yank the door open and survey the cop-out offerings of water, soda, beer and champagne.
I heave a breath. Well, ain’t nobody getting drunk off of this shit...
Still. It’s better than nothing.
Grabbing two bottles of beer out — because no way am I touching the champagne... even if it's Krug; the last thing I need right now on top of everything else is a motherfuckin' migraine — I pop the cap off one and take a hard swallow.
The cool malt hits the back of my throat, and I chug the rest of it down greedily, suddenly realising how parched I am.
Dropping the empty bottle back on the bar top, I’m reaching for the second when I catch sight of my reflection in the large mirror sitting behind the shelving in front of me.
Sweet Jesus, I look like death warmed up...
My hair looks like it's been chewed up and spat out by a yak, my skin’s ashen, my eyes tired and bloodshot, and I have a large, blueish welt on my jaw from where Tattoos had decked me, in addition to the claw marks that the asshole’s girlfriend left on my face.
I pull a face as I untwist the second cap.
I haven’t looked this much like buzzard bait since the literal beating I received during — and after — the one and only polo match I ever subjected myself to.
And it was clear that — just like then — I’m in desperate need of a shower.
Draining the second beer, I quickly draw the curtains before resignedly turning back the way I'd come.
Dropping my keycard into the holder on the wall to turn the lights on, I kick my boots off by the door and trudge into the bathroom.
Grabbing some towels, I throw them onto the floor and shove the faucet of the glass-panelled shower onto the hottest setting.
While waiting for the water to warm up, I bend down to pull off the ankle holsters that held the Sig P365 and tactical knife that I never go anywhere without.
Placing them carefully on the vanity, so they remained within reach, I proceed to strip off the rest of my clothes. The ruined shirt ends up on the floor, followed by the clang of my belt buckle as my jeans and boxers hit the ground.
Pulling my socks off and throwing them on top of the pile, I step into the now rapidly rising steam. A low hiss escapes me as the scalding water hits my chest. But rather than flinching away, or turning the temperature down, I lean into the spray, letting the hot water beat down onto me, like a hammer on an anvil, working the tension out of my muscles.
I have no clue how long I stand there for, head hanging down, hands braced against the wall, just soaking.
But eventually, I force myself to blink my eyes open. Because the hour’s already late, and even though I can probably stay under the spray all night, I know I need to catch some shut eye before the inevitable morning scramble to get everyone back home in time for the Masquerade Ball.
So, reaching for the travel-sized bottle of three-in-one wash that I brought with me, I proceed to lather myself from head to toe. Once done, I rinse myself off, letting the water pummel me for a few more minutes before reluctantly turning the spray off.
Unfurling one of the towels, I drop it on the marble floor so I can step out of the shower without breaking my neck. Grabbing the other towel, I run it over myself to get the worst of the moisture off before wrapping it around my waist.
Moving over to the vanity, I lift a hand to wipe the condensation off the oversized mirror and note that the hot soak has managed to bring some colour back to my face... albeit at the expense of my bruise, which has grown more pronounced as a result of the prolonged heat treatment.
Oh, well. Shit happens...
It's not like I’m a stranger to bruises. Growing up, I collected plenty of them from all the stupid shit I got up to, climbing up rickety ladders, falling out of trees, off my bike, not to mention off horses that were unquestionably too big for me.
And the hits only intensified as I got older and tried my hand at pretty much every type of sport imaginable — most of them in the contact category. Soccer, basketball, rugby, water polo, judo... I've done it all. Including American football, which Dad had begun indoctrinating me into since before I could even walk, and which I actually got a chance to play at uni as a running back.
So, a black-and-blue shiner on my face isn’t gonna faze me.
Badge of a battle well-fought, Dad always used to say.
Plus it's not like I’m reliant on my looks to get me through life. I’m not constantly in the limelight, being forced to present some kind of idealised image to the world. That’s Chris' lot. Not mine.
Thank fuck...
Though if I actually want to be able to eat anything tomorrow that’s more substantial than a milkshake, I probably should ice the bastarding thing down.
I feel a wry smirk pull at my mouth as I reach for my wash bag. 
That bottle of Krug might get a lease on life, after all...
Quickly brushing and flossing my teeth — wincing a bit at the growing tightness in my jaw — I gather up my discarded clothes (as well as my holsters) and make my way back into the room.
Placing the weapons on the bedside table — contrary to what pop culture may have you believe, it ain't a good idea to sleep with a loaded gun beneath your pillow — along with my phone and wallet, I set about sorting out my threads.
A quick once-over reveals that after all the literal running around I ended up doing, the jeans probably could do with a wash. But I only brought the one pair, so they’re going to have to do for tomorrow. The socks and boxers are unquestionably dead, so I roll them up to stow away in my duffle.
That leaves the shirt.
Grabbing either end of the split yolk, I bring the busted button-down up to eye-level to determine it's fate.
All in all, four buttons are missing, so the damage isn’t as bad as I—
From beneath the lingering hum of stale sweat, old leather and jet fuel, I suddenly catch a whiff of her honey-camomile scent, soft and sweet, like a half-remembered dream... and I nearly choke.
Goddammit...
I launch the cotton across the room with a growl of frustration.
As much as I like the shirt — it’s one of the few dressier ones that I own — there’s no way I’m gonna be able to salvage it.
Because even if it hadn't still smelled like her, the mere sight of it had been enough to throw me back into that cramped apartment... and the litany of missed opportunities that had preceded it.
And, even if I do fix it back up, I'll never be able to wear the damn thing without a stark reminder of the cold, hard fact that that's all Gale is now — a memory.
So, the sooner I burn it, the better.
Along with the shirt.
But, since I don’t have a blowtorch with me — and, in any event, setting fire to the highly flammable material in the hotel room would definitely cause a building-wide evacuation — I’m going to have to make do with simply stuffing the rag in the trash.
Heaving a beleaguered breath, I force myself to march around to the other side of the bed and pick up the shirt again. Balling it up, I dump it in the bin next to the desk.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Dropping the towel from my waist, I shuffle over to my duffle to stow my dirty clothes away and grab a fresh pair of boxers out.
Pulling the underwear on, I do a final sweep of the room before hitting the lights, grabbing the Krug to serve as an impromptu ice pack, and crawl beneath the cool sheets.
But instead of passing out as soon as my head hits the pillow, I find myself lying awake, staring into the darkness.
...fuck's sake.
Tumblr media
The story continues in Chapter 10 - Darkfall
Permatags
@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations @aprilchallenge
Sleepless in New York only
@bebepac
Picture Credits
Staten Island Terminal - Shower - Drake - Statue of Liberty - Hayley & Chris - NYPD - Helicopter - Night
47 notes · View notes