#we shoulda been at the club together...

[disdaidal]

I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

#personal #so in case anyone's still wondering i'm studying to become a tutor/instructor/guidance counselor etc. etc. whatever it's called in english #and currently i mostly work with immigrants with language. sometimes i help high school students as well. but mostly immigrants #and there's this one immigrant student who's been there since last spring. and he still barely even knows the basics because he's 'given up #according to him that is. he told me this at least three times yesterday and i told him that's a problem #so i've been trying to hammer it through his head that he can't be sitting in classes and using his phone when he's supposed to be learning #or expect me or teachers giving him all the answers when he also needs to show a little effort and help us back as well #and that he needs to participate in pair and group activities in classes because we're a team and we need to work together #so basically he's been asking me to either teach him or then find someone who can teach him #i told one of our teachers this and she answered that he could also participate in evening activities at the college but he's not doing tha #and according to him he doesn't 'mingle'. so i told him maybe he should once in a while. get out of his comfort zone. at least try #to my surprise he actually showed up to one of the evening activities that i hosted. didn't do much anything there but sit but still #that was effort. he did exactly what i said despite it making him a little uncomfortable so that's improvement #so then yesterday he asked me about teaching him the language again. i told him i host a homework club at tuesdays & thursdays @ 3:30-4:30p #he showed up there yesterday and was the only student. so i had time to teach him basic greetings. weekdays. months. things he shoulda know #and i thought it's all probably in vain but i tried. so today. he was in their class and actually doing pair work and reading stuff aloud #and even translating some stuff when i asked. calling it easy. and that he's trying to use his phone less and memorize this stuff instead #to which the rest clapped at and cheered him on for. and i told this to the teacher afterwards when she asked me about him. and she gave #me a thumbs up and looked a little surprised but also delighted. because he's been a popular subject amongst ourselves for a reason #so i don't want to get too optimistic about it. because he still has an attitude problem. but he's tried a little at least. so there's hope

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Wassail | Yuletide🌟

Tom Bennett x Fem!Reader

Summary: A minor indiscretion leads you to chaperoning the yearly children's wassail with none other than Tom Bennett.

Content: Fluff, Language.

Yuletide Masterlist

Spending the evening with a handful of excitable children and Tom Bennett wasn’t too bad, as far as punishment went.

You supposed your father thought the children, full of a night’s sugar after years of rationing, would tire you out with their boundless energy. Perhaps he also thought that Tom Bennett would scare you. A petty criminal that good, honest girls should be frightened of. Well, your father should know that you were far from good or honest. That’s why you needed punishing in the first place.

Word got to your father that you were seen in a compromising position behind the Capital Club with Willie Murphy on New Year’s Eve. You traced the source easily. Your father heard it from that busy-body, Mrs Browning, who heard it from her neighbour. The neighbour’s daughter just happened to be Minnie Goodman, Willie’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. The tale was a tall one, for in truth Willie Murphy snuck his hand up your skirt and you’d given him a smack. If Gossip Goodman wanted that creep all to herself, she was welcome to him.

“Hurry up you!” One of the little lads shouted at you as he made his way to the next house.

“Watch your mouth, Harry Tollet,” you said, coming to stand beside him and the other children. “You won’t be wassailing next year if your mother hears you talking like that to a lady.”

“My mum says you aren’t a lady,” Harry said, knocking on the door. A little girl beside him gasped. Before you could speak, Tom Bennett, who had been silent on the evening’s walk, stepped forward.

“You’ll get a clip round the ear an’ all if you keep on.”

Harry had no time to cower for the red door opened and the children sang a chorus of We Three Kings. Their tin cups were filled with mulled cider by the old lady at the door, and Tom ushered Harry away before his could be filled.

“That’s not fair-”

“Shoulda thought about that before you ran your mouth,” Tom shoved the little boy towards the rest of the group. “Best behaviour.”

One of the little girls whispered in Harry’s ear and gave Tom a wary glance. She smiled awkwardly at you and turned around as the next door of the street opened and the children began their singing once more. The house belonged to old Mr Preston, a widower who lived alone. His only son died in the war. He had no grandchildren. You watched, heart growing as the old man gave the children their cup of mulled apple and presented them each with a mince pie.

Silenced for a while by their full mouths, the children listen to old man Preston telling them tales of Christmases long ago. Enraptured, they forgot all about you and Tom. Thank Christ.

You smiled at Mr Preston and showed him your cigarettes, indicating the pavement on the other side of the street. He nodded knowingly and continued his tale.

Leant against the lamppost, you clicked your lighter and inhaled the heady smoke of the cigarette. Tom Bennett took out his own packets of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth. With his hands safely back inside his pockets, he swaggered slowly towards you, looking over his shoulder in a half-arsed attempt and chaperoneship. You snorted.

He came to a stop before you, clicking his heels together as though he were still in the navy. He looked down his long nose at you a moment, smirking. You weren’t rattled. He brought his long fingers to take the cigarette from your mouth and light his own with it. The end sparkled into life, the tobacco crackling. The low, orange flare of light illuminated his sapphire eyes, which were fixed on yours. That rattled you, just a bit. This was a man who made flirting an artform. He looked at your cigarette as he passed it back to you.

“Lucky Strikes? Very posh,” he drawled in his Manchester burr.

“Got ‘em from a Yank. Better than your filthy Marlboros. Bloody stink,” you took a drag and exhaled the smoke in his face. He didn’t budge, the smoke dissipating to reveal a fully born grin.

“Lucky Strike for a lucky strike?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be jealous,”

Tom puffed out his chest and sniffed the night air. He glanced over his shoulder. You smiled to yourself; you never knew it was so easy to hurt Tom Bennett’s pride.

Across the road, Mr Preston had finished his story and gone inside. The children were walking to the next house, some hand in hand.

“They don’t need us,” you nodded towards them.

“Nah,” Tom said. “War made them different. Self-reliant.”

You hummed in agreement.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

You stared at him, amusement tugging the corners of your mouth. Tom Bennett always thought so highly of himself.

“What for?”

“Harry.” He stated simply.

“But you didn’t do anything,” you laughed brightly.

Despite himself, Tom smiled. “Hold on-”

“Don’t think I could have handled a ten-year-old myself?”

Tom took a step up onto the pavement and, in doing so, brought himself closer to you. “Oh no,” his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “I heard you can handle yourself very well,” One of his hands slipped inside your coat to rest against the slope of your hip.

It wasn’t his hand that made you bristle. It was the assumption that you were easy. Sure, you’d had your fair share of flings, but you didn’t drop your knickers for any fella with a sly grin and foreign cigarettes.

You took his hand in yours, moving it from your waist and dropping it back at his own side.

“I’m only here ‘cause Dadda believed in a load of old hearsay,” You flicked your cigarette to the ground and stamped it out under your heel. Tom didn’t hide the way he stared up the length of your stockinged leg. “I wouldn’t touch Willie Murphy with a ten-foot barge pole-”

“I know,” Tom said simply, idle hands tucked back into the pockets of his jacket.

You stared at him, lost for words. No-one ever believed you. Seemed to think because you’d had three or four Longsight lads, you’d had the whole lot. “Really?”

“Yeah, course I do. He’s an ugly little bastard with more spots than I’ve had hot dinners.” You laughed. Towards the end of the road, the children were singing again, and the lamplights began flickering into life. “I didn’t try it on ‘cause I think you’re easy,” with another step, Tom was pressed flush against you. “I tried it on ‘cause I like you.”

Your smile of genuine happiness turned to one of mischief. “Tom Bennett, are you going soft?”

In the dim light, his blue eyes twinkled. With a wink, he stepped back and began his slow walk towards the gaggle of children. Falling into step beside him, you walked in silence but for the chorus of We Wish You a Merry Christmas and clack of your heels on the cobbles.

Gently, boldy, you tucked your hand into his. “Not so bad, is it,  this punishment?”

“Not a punishedment for me. Not a petty criminal anymore.” Tom said, smiling down at you and tugging you closer so that the kids wouldn’t see your entwined hands. “Nah, I volunteered.”

You stood still, mouth agape with amused shock.

“What?” Tom tugged your hand and you kept walking.

“You really have gone soft!”

“War’ll do that to you.” You bowed your head solemnly. “And the prospect of an evening with you.”

“Even with a headache’s worth of kids?”

“Even so.”  

Finally back with decent internet! The last few days of Christmas are going to be heavy with uploads!

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

#tom bennett #ewan mitchell #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan nation #hilde's twelve days of christmas

[suzy-queued]

A Gallavich tale, told 100 words at a time.

-------------------

A man jumped into the back seat of Ian’s car.

“You a driver?” Dark hair, one small piece of luggage.

“Yeah, only if you’re registered on the app.”

“Screw the app. Take me to Nashville.”

Ian choked on his Gatorade. “That’s eight hours from here.”

“So?”

“You gotta plan these things out. Get matched with the right driver.”

“It’s not like I knew that my fucking boyfriend was gonna run off to fucking Yee-Haw Land to elope with my sworn enemy.”

Ian checked the rearview and saw pain behind those angry blue eyes. He switched his app status to OCCUPIED.

---

Ian took the entrance ramp onto I-90. They should arrive in Nashville around … oh, 3:37 AM.

“I have an emergency kit.” Ian nodded with his chin. “Under the seat. A few comforts in case you need ’em.”

The passenger shuffled through the insulated bag. “Boxed juice. Granola bars. Fucking gummy bears, man? This is childhood stuff. You got any Jack Daniels?”

Ian felt a spark of disobedience. “I’ve got a few joints in the glove box.” This was definitely off-book behavior, but it felt right. “They come with a price.”

“What’s that, Jeeves?”

“You’ve gotta tell me your whole story.”

---

The dark-haired passenger scoffed. “You don’t look like you’ve got the stomach to get caught up on my bullshit.”

“Try me.”

“Whatever. Fuckin’ sadist.” He settled into his seat. “You ain’t wearing a wire, right?”

“Not today.”

“All right, so, you ever heard of Berry Buds?”

“Those stuffed animals in the shape of fruit? Don’t people use those to smuggle coke?”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “You too delicate to hear about crime, pumpkin? There’s murder, too. Betrayal. And a pair of pink flamingos.”

“Wait, back up. You forgot the most important part. What’s your name?”

The passenger only smiled.

---

Man, this passenger could talk. Ian heard an hour’s worth of Milkovich family crimes.

Milkovich.

Ian didn’t know the guy’s first name. Only how passionate he was, the excitement in his voice.

“So Iggy launched the box of M-80s into the river, right, and this long-legged yahoo waltzes up.” Milkovich paused. “Wait, did you just yawn? If it’s such a chore to listen, I can fuckin’ stop.”

Ian made eye contact in the rearview mirror. “I was promised murder. A boyfriend.”

Milkovich slunk in his seat. “Keith.” All his passion faded to pain. “Yeah … guess I can talk about him.”

---

“Keith is …” Milkovich seeped with defeat and anger. “He’s the first person who saw me as more than a thug. We met at the liquor store. Been together seventeen months. I thought we were long-term, you know? Then he starts spending time at clubs. Digging into the scene. I don’t give a fuck if he does coke to let off steam. But he keeps getting it from the same guy. Real tall motherfucker. White-blond hair. Wears sweater vests.”

“Northside prick.”

“Oh, you know this guy?”

Ian had seen plenty of club action. He hardened in solidarity. “I know the type.”

---

“Anyways, that’s how I realized my piece-of-shit boyfriend is marrying fancy-pants Logan Covington, the motherfucker who snipes our business and has led the biggest anti-Milkovich smear campaign this side of Michigan.” The passenger let out a sigh. He slowed for the first time in an hour. “Shoulda known by that haircut. He came home looking like a walking Ken doll.”

“So, wait.” Ian sorted through the complicated story threads. “Are you going to kill your boyfriend?”

“No, man, keep up. I want to get him back.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna help me.”

---

Ian scoffed. “Don’t rope me into your drama.”

“Come on, man. We show up at the chapel, tell Keith I’m dating you now, let the jealousy unfold.”

Unbelievable. Ian shouldn’t even consider the offer. He had a ton to do this weekend. But Milkovich was obviously hurting.

Ian scratched his chin. “And I’d be on the clock the whole time?”

“What, you scared to do it? You a homophobe or something?”

“I’m gay.”

Milkovich stared, hard. He looked Ian up and down. “You never mentioned that.” He gave a coy smirk.

Ian felt a shot of electricity. “You never asked.”

---

The Silver Diner in Lafayette, Indiana bustled with activity.

Milkovich talked over the sizzling grill. “Still don’t know why we stopped here.”

“Can’t think on an empty stomach.” Ian flagged the waitress.

Jolene smiled, leaned into the booth. “Order’s coming right up, sugarpot.” She touched Ian’s arm as she left.

Milkovich frowned. “That shit happen to you a lot?”

“What?”

“Chicks waving their boobs in your face.”

“I don’t really notice.” But Milkovich noticed. Interesting.

“It’s good, actually. We can use it in our plan. People find you attractive.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t say me.”

---

Milkovich rolled a coin across the diner table. “You see that? Table's tilted by a degree-and-a-half. Cheap off-balance pedestal leg. I’d have used a trestle instead.”

Huh. This guy’s shoulders relaxed when he talked about normal stuff.

“The key with builds like this…” The guy was smart. Layered. Funny. And his eyes twinkled when he geeked out about construction, apparently.

Ian was finding new ways to be awed each minute.

“…at least shim the motherfucker because…”

Ian interrupted. “I’m in.”

“Huh?”

“Your plan? I guess can pretend to like you.”

Ian’s stomach swooped. Pretend might not be the right word.

---

“Seriously, you’ll do it?” Milkovich raised an eyebrow. “Okay, lay it on me. Tell me everything about you.”

Ian enjoyed sharing his details. “I’m one of six kids. Two sisters, three brothers. Wait, you’re not writing this down? You’re gonna memorize all this shit?”

The guy leaned forward, intense, piercing. He traced his finger around Ian’s wrist. “We’re chained now. I’ll remember everything about you.”

This was absurd, but the guy seemed dead serious.

Ian felt goosebumps. He took charge and matched the guy’s intensity. “Then tell me your first name.”

A quick tongue flick. The guy nodded. “It’s Mickey.”

---

Turns out, scheming and joking with Mickey was easier than breathing. Ian drummed on the table. “Okay, how’d we meet? I gave you a ride somewhere?”

“And then I rode you.” Mickey laughed. “Simple enough. How about second date?”

Ian’s inner romantic spun into action. “A rooftop picnic. You brought snacks and whiskey.”

“Hm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

“I brought a tire iron and gun because I didn’t trust you.”

Mickey smirked, like these lies were becoming reality in his head. “Wise man.”

Ian swelled. His weekend suddenly had purpose. He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the goddamn world.

---

They hit the john before they got back on the road. Pissed in outdated urinals, washed their hands.

Ian watched Mickey closely. Every turn, every strut, every smirk. That’s how he noticed that Mickey flinched when the hand dryer shot to life.

“Mickey Milkovich.” Ian laughed. “You can dump a mob boss in the Chicago River but you’re afraid of a little hot air?”

“It’s fucking startling.”

Mickey paused in the doorway. Tilted his head. Looked up at Ian. “Keith … he never noticed that about me.”

Ian elbowed him, defusing his sadness. “I’m going to learn all your secrets, boyfriend.”

---

Around midnight, the rhythm of repeating street lights on Interstate 65 lulled Ian toward sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey looked damn relaxed, too. Seat leaned back. Legs stretched out. Talking in a low voice. “Let’s say I blew this.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Say I end up alone. Do I deserve that?”

Ian could certainly judge. He’d heard about Mickey’s crimes, his family, his dating history.

He wanted to hold Mickey’s hand. He wanted to find the right words to remedy this hurt.

“Mickey, you are the most –”

A bang. A crash. Ian’s face smashed into the airbag.

---

Ian took inventory. He was conscious. Neck pain. Bleeding nose.

He scrambled to unfasten his seatbelt. To wave away the airbag dust.

He pawed at Mickey’s leg, arm, chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scraped up.” Mickey coughed. “What happened?”

“Someone clipped our bumper. We spun out. Hit the guardrail. I was out of control.”

“Why are you pulling on my eye?”

Ian lowered his hand. “Checking for a concussion.” He tried to steady his breath, calm his panic. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

Mickey set his injured hand on Ian’s, offering shaky reassurance. “Better than being worm food, man.”

---

The cops had come and gone. Reality settled in. Ian’s car was undriveable. They were stranded.

Mickey’s anxiety spiked. “How the hell am I getting to the wedding now?” He paced along the shoulder, pointing at Ian. “Who drives for a fucking living and doesn’t have roadside assistance?”

Ian spoke via speakerphone to a random tow company they’d Googled. “It’s a silver Camry. Near exit 130.”

Mickey yelled into the phone. “Just look for the goddamn ring of fire lighting up I-65.”

Ian prayed for strength. “Ignore him. There’s no fire.” Unless you counted the flames rising from Mickey’s nostrils.

---

Ian talked to Mickey in the crammed cab of the tow truck. “I told you I’d get you there. I’ll think of something.”

The mechanic pulled into a repair shop. “Car can stay here. Hank opens at 7:00 tomorrow.”

Mickey exploded. “It’s not open 24 hours?”

“This is Indianapolis, not L.A.”

“How are we supposed—"

Ian held up a hand to stop him. He could feel Mickey’s desperation, his impatience and heartbreak. “Is there a hotel nearby?”

The mechanic pointed across the street. To a run-down motel called King Richard’s Royal Inn.

Mickey glared. “Well, long live the fuckin’ king.”

---

Josie at the front desk didn’t even look at her computer. “I’m sorry. It’s race week. We don’t have room for more guests.”

Mickey glared at Ian. “Come on, Gingerbread. You’re taking me to the Motel 6.”

Josie snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find a campground in this town with a vacancy.”

“Guess I’m sleeping in your fucking lobby, then.”

As if Ian didn’t feel bad enough about this situation.

A chime sounded on the computer.

“Hey, now.” Josie smiled. “We’ve just had a cancellation.” She looked between them. “It’s a single. One full-sized bed.”

Mickey didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

---

“Door’s flimsy enough to kick open.” Ian unlocked the motel room.

Mickey groaned. “No TV. No closet. They better have hot water.”

“Jesus, the bed’s small.” Ian’s neck ached. This was officially hell.

“You gonna be all right, Red? We’ve got to get used to touching each other.”

Ian grabbed him and pulled him close, roughly. “Think we’ll be able to fool Keith?”

And, damn, Mickey’s face was right fucking there, looking tired. Cranky. Kissable. “We should do it bareback in the middle of the chapel just to piss him off.”

Oof.

Ian was not going to survive this night.

---

Mickey cracked the bathroom door as he showered, fogging up the motel room.

Ian sat on the bed, still for the first time tonight. He felt warmth. Pain. Adrenaline let-down.

Mickey’s silhouette moved behind the curtain. A hint. A tease. An invitation.

What if … Ian pulled the curtain back?

He could feel those sturdy shoulders, that smooth skin. Trace his tongue along the water droplets. Grab that thick … hair.

What if Mickey dropped his guy and took Ian on? Then what?

Would Mickey get tired of him?

Desire. Curiosity. Potential. Ian’s thoughts swirled like water.

… then the shower clicked off.

---

“Jesus!” Mickey pulled the curtain back. “Damn water turned to ice.” He jumped from the shower, lunging for a towel.

And of course Ian had been staring and saw everything. Mickey’s dripping body. The toned muscles in his legs. His stomach. A quick flash of his anatomy.

Ian turned away.

“Fucking freezing, man.” Mickey’s wet feet slapped on the floor. “This is on you, Gallagher.”

Ian peeked. The towel did nothing to hide the curve of Mickey’s ass.

God, Ian had to tamp down his infatuation. Maybe cockiness would work instead. “I hear skin-to-skin contact gets you warm the fastest.”

---

Mickey huffed at Ian’s joke. “You tryin’ to see me naked?”

“It’s for science. Research.”

Mickey shrugged and reached for the knot of his towel. The world moved in slow motion now, a tattooed hand tugging white cotton.

The fabric fell away, sliding down his leg. Dark hairs matted against skin. Body with the right balance of definition and softness.

Ian’s heart beat fast. He felt it getting stronger and stronger and stronger.

He glanced up and fell into Mickey’s eyes.

One touch could overcome the silence. One touch could reveal Ian’s crush.

Mickey smiled, all confidence. “Your turn, Loverboy.”

---

In this game of chicken, Mickey was winning.

Ian gulped. It was only fair, right? Mickey needed to see his body for their boyfriend charade to work.

Ian peeled off his jeans. His t-shirt, going slow and begging all his parts to stay chill.

Mickey never broke eye contact.

Ian slid his boxers down, breathless.

“Patriot tattoo. Boobs tattoo.” Mickey nodded. “Carpet matches the drapes. Uh-huh.”

How could Mickey stay so calm when he was tearing Ian’s nerves to pieces?

Mickey stepped within touching distance. “Only one more question, hot shot.”

“What’s that?”

“How good of an actor are you?”

---

Ian held his ground. “I’m a great actor.”

“Could you kiss me right now?” Mickey’s gaze raked down Ian’s body. “Kiss me and not get hard?” Mickey spoke oh-so-slowly. “We’re together, right? So we supposedly kiss all the time. Can you control yourself?”

A song burst through the tension. A silly cartoon voice repeating, You are my cute-cumber. You are my cute-cumber.

Mickey’s eyes widened. “Fuck, my phone.”

He scrambled, but the sound went silent before he got there.

Ian laughed. “Seriously? That’s the cheesiest alert.”

“You don’t understand.” Mickey looked up with pain in his eyes. “That’s Keith’s ringtone.”

---

Keith’s call shifted Mickey's vibe from flirty to flustered.

Ian slid on his boxers and jeans. Being naked suddenly seemed wrong.

“Why the fuck was he calling?” Mickey threw the towel over his lap. “He didn’t leave a voicemail. Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? Should I call back?”

Ian had no clue how to help. “Just take a minute. Breathe.”

“My brain’s turning to mush here, Gallagher. I’m exhausted. I’m confused. We haven’t eaten in hours. And now this? Tell me what the fuck to do.”

Ian didn’t think. He yanked Mickey’s head back and kissed him.

---

The kiss was overwhelming. Tinged with panic. Wonderful. Scary. Exciting. Over too soon.

Mickey touched his own lips. “That’s good. I … needed that.”

“This trip’ll be stressful enough without you freaking out. When the anxiety ratchets up in that head of yours, I’ll take care of you, all right?”

Mickey nodded. Took a second. Smirked. “Knew you couldn’t do it.”

“What?”

“Knew you couldn’t kiss me without getting hard.”

“You’re an asshole.”

But the intensity on Mickey’s face told Ian not to push. The bright blue eyes. The absolute relief at being taken care of.

Ian let the moment simmer.

---

Ian needed to be supportive. A bodyguard. A wingman, offering safety pins and pep talks.

He pulled two joints from his pocket. “You weren’t meant to face this weekend sober.”

“Fuck, man, you always know what I need.”

“Snagged ’em from my glove box after the crash.” Ian lit up and offered one to Mickey. “I know everything seems fuckin’ hopeless, like your life is wrecked. You ain’t wrong.”

“This supposed to make me feel better?”

“The point is, it’s okay to be who you are.”

“What’s that, big guy?”

Ian threaded their fingers together. “A loser, just like me.”

---

The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.

They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.

They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.

Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.

Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.

In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”

---

Mickey sat too far away on the motel bed. “Why wouldn’t I go? Keith is my boyfriend. We live together.”

“How’s that gonna work out once the newlyweds get home?”

“I still want to go.”

This wasn’t right, goddammit. In the movies, a kiss leads to a romantic finale, not this stubborn insistence to stay on course.

Ian grasped at one last hope. “To win Keith back?”

Mickey inched closer. He held Ian’s chin. Broke into a smile. “To show him what a big mistake he made.”

This time, the kiss was only about the two of them. Fuckin’ finally.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

Hey. Is this thing on?

Gallagher’s been doing an okay job telling this story, but now it’s my turn. And none of that past-tense, passive bullshit. I’ll tell you everything the moment it happens, okay?

You’re gonna witness every mile, every pit stop, every tacky decision my ex makes for this wedding. His abysmal choice in groom. Some godawful silver balloon arch. Those lime-flavored vodka Jell-o squares he loves so much.

Damn, I can’t wait to see the scowl on Keith’s face when Ian and I start playing tonsil hockey on the dance floor.

We’re gonna fuck some shit up.

---

It’s seven AM. I’m camped outside Hank’s Body Shop drinking coffee-colored swill.

Ian’s beside me, giving me bedroom eyes, running his fingers up my arm. He’s tempting as fuck.

Hank unlocks the door and lets us in. “Knew you’d be waitin’.”

I spot Ian’s car, nod toward it. “What’s the damage?”

“Her bones are good, but you’re looking at three grand in parts and labor. I have an opening on October first.”

“October? That’s six weeks from now.”

Hank shrugs. “You can tow her somewhere else. No skin off my teeth.”

Ian eyes darken, and not in a sexy way.  

---

Look, I’ve learned a lot about Gallagher in the past day. If he says he’s gonna do something, he will.

We’re definitely getting to Nashville.

He’s got about eighty tabs up on his phone. “Ubering is ridiculously expensive. A rental car’ll surcharge me because I’m not twenty-five.”

“You’re not?”

“Not until next May.” Ian doesn’t even look up. “Greyhound leaves at 11:30. What time’s the wedding?”

“Six.”

“Guess we’re taking the bus.”

I fucking hate this idea. Ian can tell. He grabs me by the waist. “We can cuddle the whole way there.”

Okay, maybe I fucking love this idea.

---

We leave the car behind. Leave the body shop behind. Check out of the motel, leave it behind.

All I’ve been doing lately is letting things go. Releasing the goddamn trapeze wire and falling without a net.

My ex is the hardest fucking thing to let go.

Ian and I sit in the back seat of a cab, on our way to the bus station. He holds my hand, simply. “This is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax.”

He's a six-foot-high, freckly-armed godsend. It's easier to let go when a motherfucker like that is waiting to catch you.

---

The bus trip passes in a blur. I’m lost in a tangle of Gallagher limbs. He touches my forehead, cups my cheek, kisses me every minute on the minute.

After all the shit we’ve gone through, the ride feels too easy. Roadblocks are easy to rally against. But when the path is clear, doubt creeps in.

We pull into Nashville Station at four o’clock. It’s sunny. The air smells like Keith.

He’s probably putting on his tux and double-checking the flowers right now.

I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t taken a moment to breathe.

Fuck.

Am I doing the right thing?

---

I shove down my hesitation, because fuck Keith. If I want to crash his party, I’ll do it with a wrecking ball.

Ian and I step out of an Uber, bleary-eyed. The white chapel sits in a commercial strip, bathed in neon.

There’s two pink birds dressed in tuxedos mounted out front. I rip one from the grass. “Goddamn flamingos, man. That was supposed to be our thing.”

A man greets guests at the chapel steps. “Thank you for coming, thank you ah-very much.” Rhinestones. Bell bottoms. Sunglasses.

I can’t handle this shit. “He’s having fucking Elvis officiate his wedding?!”

#galladrabbles #galladrabble #100 words #gallavich fan fiction #master post #no sleep til nashville

[dantakeyoman]

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐝. 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨

♡ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒚. 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐." *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚 - 𝒑𝒐𝒗: 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅 *

𝐓𝐖𝐎

"If I ever see Johnny again, I'll knock his teeth in," you grumbled, taking a swig of your water bottle.

"If he ever sees Daniel again, he'll knock his teeth in. The guy is a complete psycho," Casey scoffed from her spot on the grass, tying her hair up.

"I don't get what his damage is. He knows what he did and you guys have been over for forever, anyways," Molly added, glaring at him from across the field.

It was the first day of school, and you shared your gym period with Johnny, Molly, and Casey.

The girls were currently on break from their soccer game, and you three decided to sit down and have a chat about last night.

"It's cause of the stupid country club. He acts all sweet around my parents and they love him. They won't listen to me no matter what I say," you sulked.

"Talk about obsessed," Casey added, joining in on the community glare at Johnny.

"Speaking of obsessed...(y/n/n), don't look now but your boy toy's right there~" Mo smirked.

If you turned any faster, you would've gotten whiplash.

Casey burst into laughter, and Mo pinched the bridge of her nose, grumbling something under her breath.

"I'll be right back," you smiled, picking up a soccer ball and heading over.

"She's hopeless," Casey sighed, laying down to soak up the sun.

"Hey, think fast!" you laughed, tossing Daniel the ball.

He caught it, turning to look at you with surprise, "Hi."

"Hi," you smiled back, looking up at him.

Now closer, you were able to get a good look at his eye, which was all sorts of purple and nearly swollen shut.

"God, your eye," you winced, your eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Oh, don't worry. It looks worse than it feels. Believe me," he assured, fooling around with the ball in his hands.

"I hope so. You got a nice face so I wouldn't want anything to damage the merchandise," you joked, giving him a nudge.

He laughed, a small hint of blush gracing his cheeks

"But seriously, I never got a chance to thank you," you started, tucking your hands in your pockets.

"That was nothin'. I'm just sorry 'bout your radio," he juggled the ball.

"Yeah, I'm more sorry about your eye. I guess you shoulda just given it to him," you sighed.

"Well, why? It wasn't his, right?" He smiled, cocking a brow.

It was infectious.

You smiled as well, "Yeah, it wasn't his."

"See? We think alike already."

"Wanna know what else we do alike?" You smirked, grabbing the ball.

You bounced it off your knees juggling it about four times before he had to catch it.

"Hey, you've been practicing!" He grinned

"Girls soccer back on! All ladies back on the field!" Coach called.

"Dang. I gotta go. But I'll see you later, all right," you sighed, turning around and walking back over to the girls game.

"Yeah, I'll see you later," he smiled, watching you walk off.

"Definitely."

Needless to say, you were cheesing from ear to ear when you got back to Molly and Casey.

"That was adorable," Molly smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"You two look cute together. It looks like you make each other happy," Casey agreed, getting your other side.

Just as you were about to respond, shouts started coming from the boys side.

The three of you turned around, only to see Daniel get tripped by Bobby, Danny getting back up and socking him in the face, the coach throwing him out of gym.

"This school sucks, man! It sucks!" He spat, turning around and storming off.

Molly winced, the three of you watching him angrily walk away.

"Not cute."

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

Now the next day, you and your friends were in the lunch line, waiting to get your food, until you spotted Daniel from across the way.

You turned to them mid-conversation and gave them the look, the two of them rolling their eyes.

"I don't know why you keep asking permission," Casey shrugged, grabbing an apple.

"We know you wanna. Just go," Molly assured.

You nodded and quickly turned around, speed-walking over and sliding your tray in the empty spot next to him.

"Hey, Danny," you smiled.

"Hey, (y/n/n), how ya doin'?" He smiled back.

"Not too hungry today?"

"Nah, not really,"

"Here, have some pie. I made it myself," he grinned, taking a piece of pie off the buffet table and placing it on your plate.

"Why, thank you," you nodded in a fancy voice.

"So how you likin' the valley so far?"

"Eh, it hasn't been dull," he shrugged.

"Was Newark dull?" You asked, looking down at your tray and placing an orange.

He turned to you, "How'd you know I was from Newark?"

"I asked," you tried to muffle your smile.

"Oh, yeah? You askin' about me now?" He smirked.

"Maybe," you teased. "I wanted to get to know you."

"Then how 'bout you get to know me..." he leaned in, making you flush.

"All right then, you sitting with anybody?" You smiled.

"With you, if that's okay," he smirked again.

"Sounds great to me," you picked up your tray, him doing the same as you two walked to checkout.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the soccer game."

"Eh, thems the breaks," he shrugged.

"Well, yeah, you remember the ass from the beach? The one that broke my radio," you started.

"Oh, yeah, King Karate," he scoffed.

"Yup. He's my ex-boyfriend," you sighed.

"Oh, that's good to know."

All of a sudden, Daniel began to talk to himself.

"What're you doin'?" You asked.

"Oh, nah, it's the little voice in my head. Tellin' me I gotta be some kinda nuts to be talkin' to you," he joked, paying for your lunch as the two of you got to the front of the line.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," you shrugged, walking ahead.

"Huh, why?" He asked, stuffing his change in his pocket before picking up his tray to catch up.

"Because it's over."

"How long is over?"

"Weeks."

He paused for a moment.

"Weeks? What's weeks? Two weeks? Three weeks? One week? How many is weeks?"

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

"It's been like this for a month already. Why don't you ask him on a date?" Casey groaned, raking a hand through her hair as you two walked through the hallway together.

"Oh, I could never do that," you scoffed, turning the corner.

"Why not? You've asked out a bunch of other guys before," she cocked a brow.

"Yeah, well, Danny's different. I think I really like him," you smiled.

"Barf."

"What's this likin' stuff we're talkin' about?" Daniel asked, popping up in between you two.

"Yo-." "Nothing! Girl stuff, y'know," you shrugged, shooting Casey a glare as you cut her off.

"This is Casey."

"Hello," he smiled.

"Charmed," she sighed, pulling down her sunglasses.

Turning to Danny, your eyes narrowed at the sight of a new injury on above his eyebrow.

"What happened?" You asked, concerned

"Oh, it's terrible. I got this gigantic runaway zit," he joked, making you chuckle.

"Gross," Casey stuck out her tongue.

"But, really, I got into a lil' bike accident. No big deal," he clarified.

"What kinda bike you got, Daniel? Honda? Suzuki?" Casey teased, giving him a nudge.

"Actually it's a Miyagi-Turbo," he smirked.

"We're goin' to the arcade later. Wanna come?" You asked.

"Sounds good to me," he smiled.

"There this new game I wanna show you that has-." He suddenly stopped in his tracks as you three reached the outside of the school, Johnny and his gang waiting on their bikes right there.

"Hey, I just remembered...I forgot somethin'. I'll catch up with you guys in a minute," he quickly puttered, turning around and walking away.

'He's scared.'

"Danny, you don't have to run away-." "I'm not runnin' away from anything," he answered snappily.

"We've gotta deal with this-." "You deal with it your way, I'll deal with it mine, okay? I'll see ya, I gotta go," he waved you off, walking back the way he came.

"Daniel-." "Get off my case!"

You sighed, turning to Casey with a tired look.

"Real charmer you got there," she said, lowering her glasses.

"You just gotta get to know him," you assured, turning to face Johnny's crew again, who were all laughs and smiles at the sight of Danny running away.

"But I'm getting sick and tired of this."

You stormed over to them, Casey following close behind.

"(y/n/n), I-." "The hell is your damage, Johnny?" You spat, glaring at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he scoffed.

"Why can't you just leave Daniel alone? Why do you guys have to beat on him all the time?" You clarified, still very angry.

"'Cause he's touching what's mine!"

"I stopped being yours when you started locking lips with Rachel! Own up to your own damn mistakes and tell your gang of dipsticks to leave Daniel the hell alone, or it's me you're gonna be fighting next!"

The entire hallway let out ooos and ahhhs at the scene, but you didn't care.

You were gonna make Johnny stop if it was the last thing you'd do.

𝒍 𝒂 𝒓 𝒖 𝒔 𝒔 𝒐

#karate kid #karate kid x reader #daniel x reader #daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso

[coconut-dreamz]

scared to live- neteyam sully

characters: modern!adult!neteyam x adult!reader

warnings: angst, but not as angsty as my last fic, cheating and infidelity

word count: 2.5k (she's a little chonky)

part 1

a/n: here is a part two to my last fic that was inspired by creepin', this is the reader's point of view and is based off scared to live by the weeknd, idk if you can tell that i like the weeknd lol. this was requested by @intoxicatedapple, thank you for reading and i hope you all enjoy !!

When I saw the signs, I shoulda let you go  But I kept you beside me And if I held you back, at least I held you close  Should have known you were lonely it was hard not to notice the way neteyam had held you tighter, like he was scared you'd disappear if he loosened his grip. you had realized that he knew about your late night trysts with another man. but you were selfish and thought you could have them both, so you ignored the way he held you closer and looked at you differently. you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. 

he had started to look different. his form was becoming more frail, and the bags under his eyes only continued to grow. he no longer walked as confidently as he once did. he was like a different man, one who was broken. but you couldn't stop yourself from seeking comfort in the arms of another. he was like a drug to you. every time you tried leave him, he'd have you crawling back on your hands and knees in no time. it was an endless cycle. 

I know things will never be the same Time we lost will never be replaced I'm the reason you forgot to love

you had tried to leave him once again, and for awhile you managed to stay away from him. you thought things would return to the way they once were with neteyam, but they didn't. things were different between the two of you. it seemed that he no longer trusted you, looking at your phone every time it went off. you couldn't blame him though, you had done something terrible and completely betrayed him. 

despite the lack of trust between you two, neteyam didn't seem to want to leave. he wanted to continue and keep up the facade he was blissfully aware of your infidelity and that you were in a happy loving marriage. you two had started to go out on date nights again, and to anyone else you two looked like the perfect couple. but, you could see in his eyes that he was hurting, that he was cautious around other men.

______________________

as hard as you tried, you couldn't stay away from him. so, after a month or so of avoiding his calls and your weekly rendezvous with him, you came crawling back to him and his sinful embrace. you were addicted to his touch. it was so different than that of neteyam's. while neteyam's was soft and filled with love, his was full of passion and gave you fireworks. this was a kind of touch you hadn't felt in years. 

honestly, you had gotten bored with your marriage. everything had become a routine now. it had been like this for awhile, and you were sick and tired of it all. so, one night when you were out at the club with your friends, you had met this mysterious man. when he laid eyes on you, it felt like something had awaken in you. something that had been dormant in you since you had gotten comfortable with neteyam all those years ago.

so, then and there the cheating began. at first you were so nervous and worried about if neteyam ever found out. and that one night when you spotted ao'nung at the club, you knew it was all over. but, in the morning neteyam acted like everything was well. so, you realized he must've not cared enough to make a big deal of it and continued on with the new man in your life. 

after your long drought without him, you and him had decided to get bolder. going out together more, lying to neteyam about staying back at work later. things were good, you had your cake and were eating it too. and damn, was the cake good. you were straight up addicted to it. so addicted that you had gotten as bold as ever, lying to neteyam about going on a girls trip for a long weekend. the truth was you were on vacation with your side hoe. 

____________________

it was late afternoon on sunday when you returned fro your trip, unlocking the front door with your key and swinging the door open before dropping your weekend bag on the ground. "neteyam! i'm home!" you call out, walking into the foyer and taking your shoes off. weird, no response. nowadays, whenever you returned neteyam was always there within seconds to greet you. you drop your keeps off in the bowl by the door, noticing that neteyam's keys were gone. huh, he must've been out then. 

that was strange, he usually kept to himself these days. you walked further in the house and notice that it looked a little off. like there were small things missing, maybe neteyam had been cleaning up while you were gone. you were thirsty and headed to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. that's when you noticed a large envelope and a shiny ring sat on top. your heart sank, no. this couldn't be. 

you pick up the ring and examine it. it was definitely neteyam's, or it was, you supposed. you noticed a smaller envelope under the ring address to you. you quickly open the envelope to reveal a handwritten letter from neteyam.

my love,

i know that you have been cheating on me. and at first i thought i was okay with it and that i could ignore it as long as you stayed with me. i was being selfish, trying to keep you in our marriage. but over time, the lies and deceit broke me down. i couldn't handle it more. i thought that it was enough for me that you returned into my arms every night instead of his. that i was the only one who could call you my wife but, i grew greedy. i wanted more. i wanted you all to myself once again, but i knew i couldn't ask that of you. so i have decided to let you go. all i wish is for you to be happy, even if it means in the arms of another. have a happy life my love.

- neteyam

you hadn't realized that you were crying until after you finished reading. you couldn't believe it. was he really gone? you ran to your shared bedroom, to see if his clothes were still on his side of the shared closet. you throw the doors open and run inside, but once you saw that it was half empty, you fell on your knees succumbing to your sobs. it felt like hours, but you laid there crying. 

at some point you must have fallen asleep, because you woke up with a dry throat. your neck was sore from the position you fell asleep in. you walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water to soothe the pain of your dry throat. you finally decide to open the large envelope, already knowing that they were divorce papers. you signed them, knowing you needed to stop being selfish and let go of neteyam so he could be happy. 

you finally had to face the consequences of your selfish actions. you had taken advantage of neteyam's unconditional love for you for too long. being compliant and giving him what he wanted wouldn't make up for the hurt you'd caused him, but it was a start. you had taken him for granted for the last few months. you should've voiced your concerns about your marriage instead of taking the easy way out. but all you could do now was accept the fact that he was gone and you had lost him forever.

____________________

the divorce was quick and easy, legally speaking of course. emotionally, it was hell for you. neteyam insisted that you only speak through our lawyers, so you agreed to whatever he wanted. you didn't want to bring more pain to him than you had previously. after that night he left me you had been a mess. you couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat, you couldn't do anything. this must have been how neteyam was living for the last few months of our marriage. while you were being selfish and cheating on him.

after that night, you had broken it off with the other man. you had thought you might have loved him, but it was only lust. he just offered me something that my marriage was lacking, excitement. and it's disgusting to admit it, but the relationship had no more appeal now that there wasn't any excitement from sneaking around. you had become a shell of your former self. you only were surviving, you weren't living anymore. everything was a routine you needed to follow everyday. 

____________________So don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again No, don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again

it had been months after the divorce when you saw neteyam again, 9 to be exact. you had sold the house you and neteyam shared and moved to a new neighborhood, needing a fresh start. you were at the local grocery store when you saw him. a pretty girl had approached him and he was talking to her very apprehensively. he had never been this way before. i never realized how much my affair had taken a toll on him until now.

i could tell he was scared to fall in love again after what i had did to him. and against my better judgement, i approached him after the girl left. "neteyam, you shouldn't be afraid to let people in your life again after what i did. i know what i did was terrible and you were 100% undeserving of it, but that shouldn't deter you from living a life by yourself. you're an amazing person and you deserve happiness." was all i said before leaving, not giving him the chance to interject. i hope that i got through to him. 

You always miss the chance to fall for someone else  'Cause your heart only knows me They try to win your love, but there was nothing left  They just made you feel lonely  i had heard from kiri that her and lo'ak were trying to set him up on dates, but he'd always refuse and say he was content with his life as it was. i wanted to march over to his house and yell at him to stop being scared of falling for someone else, but i knew it wasn't my place. especially since i was the reason for his hesitation.

a few months later, at a lunch with kiri she told me that he had a new girlfriend, but things ended quickly. he had told her that he tried to fall love her like she loved him, but he couldn't. that despite everything i had put him through, his heart was still in my hands. he said that no matter how hard he tried, he still felt lonely and that there was a hole that couldn't be filled.

I am not the man I used to be  Did some things I couldn't let you see Refuse to be the one who taints your heart

you worked hard on trying to return for your former self, the person you were before all of this mess. it was also hard trying to find yourself as an individual after being part of a couple for the longest time. you had found a therapist that was able to help you find who you were, but it was still a work in progress. it was hard being the person who hurt neteyam and made it almost impossible for him to open himself up again. you didn't want to admit that you were the villain.I hope you know that, I hope you know that I've been praying that you find yourself I hope you know that, I hope you know that We fell apart, right from the start you often found yourself thinking about neteyam, it was hard not to. he had been such a large part of your life for so long. you two had started dating in high school and were together throughout college, getting married not too long after graduation. neteyam was such a big part of your life, he had always been your biggest supporter and you, his. you thought about him everyday, when you saw his coffee mug that sat in the back of your cupboard, or when you saw something the same color as his eyes. he was everywhere around you, but also nowhere to be seen. 

after you had heard from kiri that he was struggling to love again, you had been praying that he would find the strength to detach himself completely from you. you had let him go, all he had to do was fly away. you wished that he would be able to find himself, a neteyam without you, just like you were trying to do. you hoped that he knew that you had no ill feelings towards him and remained his biggest supporter, even if you were no longer apart of his life.  I should have made you my only When it's said and done you knew that you should have loved and cherished him like he did you, but at that point in your life you didn't know who you were. for years, you had been defined as one half of a couple. you didn't know who you were without neteyam. you had spent the years that were meant to be finding yourself with neteyam by your side. neither of you had been fully able to find who you were without each other. 

this wasn't an excuse for you actions though, there were definitely less selfish ways to try and find yourself. but you're still young and trying to navigate the world. if only you had told neteyam how you were feeling instead.  So don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again I said don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again 

you decided that you needed to send one last letter to neteyam. your therapist had recommended it. she had said it would help you close the chapter on your relationship and if neteyam decided to read it, it might help him too.

dear neteyam,

you might not even read this, but if you do, i just want you to know that it was never your fault. i have heard that you are struggling to allow yourself to fully open yourself up to love. i have one word of advice, don't be scared to live again. we are still young and you will find love again. you will meet someone that will love you the way you deserve. a person who will never make you doubt their love or ever let your trust for them waiver. so, please, allow yourself to start living again, not for me or anyone else, but for yourself. you deserve it, truly.

- y/n

I hope you know that, I hope you know that I've been praying that you find yourself I hope you know that, I hope you know that We fell apart, right from the start

you placed the envelope holding the letter on the place mat and knocked on the door, leaving before anyone could answer. you could only hope that neteyam would be able to find peace and live once again. 

#neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #atwow angst #atwow #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar 2

[debbiechanclub]

(disclaimer that I’m not out here simping for or trying to defend a million dollar company, just a fan with frustrations)

the njpw/aew partnership has always felt incredibly unbalanced. FTR didn’t defend or talk about the IWGP tag belts and skipped out on WTL, Kenny (as much as I love the dude) has done 0 with the US belt, AEW did nothing to promote Willow being part of the Strong Tournament. Desperado set a match with Mox and that didn’t get mentioned. They didn’t even talk about Dominion until after it happened. New Japan social media and commentary make a big effort to keep continuity and talk about things going on in their partner promotions.

Even with Takeshita. DDT has tweeted about the heel turn, their wrestlers have mentioned it, I cannot remember the last time DDT was even mentioned on the show

I get that All Together Again and the Road Tour means 90% of their roster is booked up and it would be a struggle to appear live. But a build to a show doesn’t need to be done 2 weeks before. This is something we should have had going since tickets went on sale. Or at the very least, ask them to film backstage promos to send in, not just play the promotional videos and press conferences that New Japan did themselves.

Sorry, you sent this after I fell asleep, but I agree with everything you've said! Like, I'm not even trying to shit on AEW―it's just facts.

FTR and Kenny were the first people I thought of when Aussie Open had to relinquish the IWGP and Strong tag titles even though Mark would only be out 6 weeks. And Kevin Kelly explained at a later date that if the Dominion match hadn't been set they could have just kept the titles which, okay, fine. But that doesn't change that FTR and Kenny just sat/are just sitting on their respective titles. Also, I was Big Mad when Kenny defended the US title against Jeff Cobb on Dynamite and not a few weeks later at Capital Collision. Like, that's an NJPW belt, my guy. Kenny by God Omega coulda shoulda woulda brought soooooo many more eyes to Capital Collision/NJPW. (And I thought he would have known better, too? That was his home for years?)

But you hit the nail on the head—it's an unbalanced relationship and I frankly don't know what NJPW is getting out of it? Forbidden Door 2 is probably gonna be another routing of their talent like the first FD was.

And like you said, there's absolutely ways to work around people not being able to come to America in order to build a feud/to a PPV. But like I said to that anon, David Finlay been around and available. AEW had the time to meaningfully address the long, long history between him and BOTH Jay and Juice. Juice literally turned on Finlay to join Bullet Club and now Finlay is the leader and you're just gonna ignore that?! And Jay's been exiled from NJPW but he's still out here acting like he's in Bullet Club?! As if (in storyline) Finlay would just allow that happen?! PLEASE. Make it make sense.

Editing to add: there's still a chance to meaningfully introduce the White/Finlay feud AT Forbidden Door. As I said, Jay's been kayfabe exiled from NJPW (and working with NJPW talent, I believe?), so he really SHOULD NOT be anywhere near Toronto on June 25th if they're gonna uphold that. But he could show up because it's also an AEW event. And then Finlay could show up and be like, "Wtf do you think you're doing?" And boom, there you go. I HOPE that happens, genuinely. If not... I will fly to Florida just to smack Tony Khan.

#asks #sorry again I'm getting to this hours later! #and welcome to my insane blog I hope you enjoy yourself

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (22/10/23)

next week is gonna have another big catch up, I was actually gonna do it the week after I did jujutsu but then realized next week it'd be the 200 chap for this series so decided to postpone it until then just cause it's a cool big round number, tho today's chap 199 woulda been fitting too since it was the colour page for the serie's 4th anni but anyhoo also starting from now the stuff I talk about will be bolded as seen below, yeah I shoulda done this from the start cause it's way more readable and stuff but the other thing I did made more sense at the time I started it, but this is better overall now

Anime

Hoshikuzu Telepath Ep2

nice epiosde mostly just introducing the 3rd member of our main group, next ep is gonna be aoki shiki's chara so that should be good

Frieren Ep7

very good ep like usual, the demon story in the middle was pretty obvious but it was still good. very excited for the next episode considering the cliffhanger and the title for it, hoping for some more sakuga 🙏

Undead Unluck Ep3

great episode all around, loved hearing my queen yuuki as gina, too bad we won't see much more of her til cour 4 or 5 (depending on how fast adaptation goes) but it'll be worth the wait. also, since I read all of UU from start to just some months ago, in just a couple days I had things very fresh on my mind so I noticed it easily, but it's really crazy to see how early tozuka set up seeds for future payoffs, I won't mention what exactly cause spoilers but there were 3 ones in this episode and it really is great writing and storytelling to be able to pull that off

Pokemon Horizons Ep25

nice and action packed episode, fit for being the end of this initial cour/arc, which we only found out about earlier this week. should be getting a new op along with the new subtitle and stuff but we'll see. we also got some lore like the full team of the ancient adventurer and that the evil organization was related to him in some way. the goal now is to find the rest of the team so that should last for 25 more eps probably but we'll see, there should still be gym stuff along the way and all that

Adult Precure Ep3

nice ep, lots of karen x kurumi moments which this artist I follow on twitter was certainly going hog wild for. saki and mai from splash star showed up at the end of this episode, and next one is gonna be about them, so that's cool since I didn't think they'd show up until the yes 5 girls had all gotten their transformations back

Imas Million Live Ep3

good ep as you'd expect, really enjoyed how much yuriko there was since she's one of my favs from ML (mikku 🙏), next episode is gonna have at least a crumb of rio so looking forward to that too they said the teather will take 2 months to finish building, I hope that it'll be finished after next episode just so we can move on to other stuff. not having this following the structure of the og anime/U149 makes it harder to predict what'll be happening

Manga

Ice-Head Gill Ch17

as expected it's ending soon, and as part of the U19 club as well, hopefully ichinose ends on the same week too, but I'll give more thoughts when it actually ends

Jujutsu Kaisen 239

I was looking forward to see how yuji and co were going to take on juiced up sukuna but we're taking a detour to have kenjaku fight, but with the twist that it's one of the most (unknowingly) op charas fighting him. I really like how goofy his power is so looking forward to this fight. tho I don't think there's any way he'll win

Undead Unluck Ch180

I could see this coming cause of fuuko saying all that earlier in the chap but it's still EXTREMELY POGGIES to have andy back after all this time, even if just temporarily, looking forward to them having a crumb of time together next chap

#silver talks animanga

[mizjoely]

Mad Love

I did it. I wrote a MadWong (Wongysynn?) one-shot. I'm out of control. (And because I'm still me, there's a touch of CleaxStrange in there as well.)

“Wongers?”

The Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme was torn between a wince and a rueful smirk at the sound of that ridiculous nickname. “Down here,” he called, deciding on neither reaction. After all, a Sorcerer Supreme had his dignity to maintain, even under such trying circumstances.

His temporary houseguest wobbled her way down the stairs, clutching the curving balustrade as she followed the sound of his voice - and the not-so-subtle magical arrows he’d left for her to follow. The New York City mansion at Bleecker Street wasn’t exactly easy to navigate even if one wasn’t nursing a hangover.

Good thing Strange was off with his new Dark Dimensional girlfriend or things might have become a teensy bit awkward.

He waited until Madisynn-with-a-Y (“But not where you expect it!”) had teetered her way into the kitchen on her ridiculously high Jimmy Choo’s. She’d given up a night of clubbing for a night of binging the final season of The Sopranos with him, but as usual she’d quickly become tipsy-bordering-on-unconscious while teaching him another ridiculous drinking game.

His own head might have been as sore as hers currently was, had he not taken the precaution of downing a certain potion before bed. One she’d refused because it “smelled icky” but which he intended to find a better tasting formulation for in the future.

Especially since this young woman - whom he had helped extricate from a contract with a demon just the other day - seemed to have become a regular part of his life.

“Uggh,” she said as she plopped into the nearest chair, dropping her head in her hands. “I guess I shoulda listened to you about that potion thingy last night.”

He thrust a glass under the approximate location of her face; she recoiled back and scowled. “What’s this?”

“Orange juice,” he told her. As she raised it to her lips, he added innocently, “With just a touch of crudum vitellum.”

Instead of asking him what that was or accusing him (as she had, drunkenly, last night) of trying to poison her, her expression brightened. “Oh, good, raw egg yolks, perfect!” 

With those words she downed the entire glass, planting it back on the table when she was done with a satisfied smack of her lips. Looking far more alert, she smiled brightly up at him. “So what’s for breakfast? Is that bacon I smell?”

They chatted as they ate, but gradually he sensed a change in her mood. She kept giving him these looks, while her chatter grew ever more distracted, until finally he placed his fork back on the table, finished his last bite of scrambled eggs, and looked at her. “What is it?”

Uncharacteristically she dropped her eyes and began fidgeting with her napkin. He was just about to give her another gentle conversational nudge when she looked directly at him. “Did we sleep together last night?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed, stunned at the - was it an accusation? It didn’t actually sound like an accusation, just a simple request for information.

Madisynn frowned at him. “Why not?”

Wong was rendered speechless by her simple question. “Why - well, because,” he finally sputtered out. “For one thing, you’re at least twenty years younger than me, and for another, you were drunk!” He raised his chin and looked down his nose at her. “The Sorcerer Supreme does NOT take advantage of young drunken women, no matter how attractive!”

His eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said, and Madisynn pounced, both literally and figuratively. “Ah HAH!” she crowed as she jumped to her feet and dashed around the table to throw her arms around him. “You DO find me attractive!”

“Of course I do,” he stammered, reaching up to disentangle her arms from around his neck, or attempting to do so, at any rate. Madisynn was being extremely uncooperative. “But it would never work between us. I have too many responsibilities -”

“Not so many that you can’t take time off to watch The Sopranos with me,” she countered with an engaging grin.

“But, but I’m far too old for you-” 

“Pfft, age is just a number,” she said dismissively. “I’m over 18 - not telling you how far over 18, but far enough!” she giggled. “Come on, Wongers, don’t tell me you’ve taken some silly vow of chastity or something!”

He was tempted to lie to her and say that yes, of course the Sorcerer Supreme ALWAYS took vows of chastity as well as poverty and…there were other aesthetic vows, weren’t there? “Attachment to the material means detachment from the spiritual,” was his last, desperate attempt at self-justification.

“Oh yeah? Well, attach THIS!” she exclaimed, meeting his lips with her own.

And that’s how Wong discovered that the ditzy party girl with a spine of steel (not everyone can successfully negotiate with a demon, after all!) was his Soul Mate. Who’d have guessed?

(And yes, it was EXTREMELY awkward when Stephen and Clea returned the next morning to find the new pair of lovers - the OTHER new pair of lovers - sharing a Champagne brunch in front of a roaring fire in the main hall of the New York Sanctum.)

#dis is mine #mcu #wongersxmadisynn #mizjoely writes #mizjoely only on tumblr #she-hulk spoilers

[ng25fj]

— Only 3 games this month because of another international break. It started off well with a 2-0 home win against Villa who are a good side now trying hard to break into the top 4. Aina scored with a powerfully directed side footed shoot from outside the box. It was lovely. All the players played well but Toffolo, Aina and Mangala had particularly good games. Personally I think Toffolo has done really well since forcing his way back in the side. He's also really good at crossing and on dead ball situations. He should be getting more opportunities from dead balls to take some of the pressure off Morgan Gibbs-White who is doing everything. Cooper has said Toffolo is probably the best crosser at the club. Aurier is also good. MGW doesn't have to take everything from both sides ALL the time. Next up was West Ham away. Last season was a capitulation and although this season is a bit different Forest still aren't getting positive away results, the being a 3-2 loss. MGW wasn't the reason Forest lost but it's the flicks that concede possession that really irritate. They're just so unnecessary. A really uncharacteristic error from Dominguez, who you could see was gutted and slack defending on set pieces were their undoing. James Ward-Prowse and Jared Bowen are on fire right now. This after getting themselves in front from conceding early was disappointing. Forest have been poor at defending set pieces the whole season and it's something that Cooper should be working on. If we can see it then he can. It's worth pointing out that this is again a brand new team. Only two Forest players from Saturday played against West Ham away last season and that game was only in Feb. Another 3-2 defeat this time at home to Brighton followed. The first home defeat of the season to a good team but again Forest went ahead to fall behind to poor defending. If Forest had kept the leads in the games they took them in they'd be top 6. I know thats shoulda, woulda, coulda stuff but it's only 4 games and two of them they were 2-0 up in. Now Cooper unsurprisingly finds himself under pressure with only one win in 9. Such fine lines but to get rid of Cooper now is a mistake. I think the team will get better and iron out the defensive frailties. There's been a big turn around and the squad is still coming together. The positives are that we can see the improvement and if they improve throughout the season like they did last year then everything 'should' come together for a higher league position. Chance to bounce back quickly though against Everton next. It's another tough one as they will be fired up about their points deduction. Let's see how that goes.

[thescarletbat]

Oncoming Storm

HARLEY & HER SÉANCE

Every turn was a dead end, nobody was giving her answers. She tried the nice and the hard way and they all said the same bullshit, “I don’t know.” If the Avengers were so great at saving the world, why couldn’t they find the missing people, why couldn’t they tell her where Klaus was? She asked the Hawk Guy the nice way, when he gave her lip and a lame excuse, well, Brucey’s breakfast ended up being Avenger Rump roast. It was a misunderstanding, apparently, she shoulda fed her Hyenas prior to interrogating one of the Avengers.

The only lead she found, Dr. Strange, withheld most details on the missing people, but as they sat together at a nice club, he told her they were in the Soulstone, but, to find it was near impossible. All she heard was find the stone and find Klaus. Nothing Strange said deterred her from her new mission. Find the Soulstone at all costs. 

Harley sped down the highway, pigtails blowing against the wind as she rode her stolen motorcycle back to Mr. J’s. Her hyenas rode passenger car tongues blowing in the wind. As they charged down the highway toward the inner city. The nightlife was quiet, cold and rainy. She picked up Mr. J’s favorite dessert, ice-cream cake with chocolate swirls. He'd had a long day busily musing on a new project,  date night together would cheer him up. It was all planned down to the detail. First cake, then a movie together where they could cuddle and– well, that part was best left for the whim. 

She needed the cheer up too, Klaus’s disappearance left Harley at a loss. Every clinic she raided and vigilante she beat up, nothing. The only option left was to stowaway on a spaceship and try to find the soul stone. She couldn’t leave her Puddin’, not after everything they’d been through, they were working it out.

The night she took a break to lay low, that’s when her puddin’ came back into her life. “Come on Harls, I’ll help you find your friend. We can make this work between us.” The Joker beamed and touched her cheek. He knew just what buttons to push, to make her weak in the knees and get a grin out of her.

How could she say no? Puddin’ just needed a little help, help she could provide even if she lost her license. She smiled and threw her arms around him tightly. He could help her find Klaus and maybe, maybe this could work. Puddin’ was nicer to her, every night he brought her candies and flowers, and every night they’d tear up the city like the good ol’ days. 

GIF by thorodinsson

The town was painted red; dancing to their own merry tune as they robbed and slaughtered the blue pigs that tried to ruin their fun. The old black and red jumpsuit was nostalgic, sending chills through her body. She hadn’t felt alive like this in years. Her and Mr. J, together again. This time, Harley knew they could make it work and it worked for six months. He made her feel like the only girl in the world that mattered to him. She did what he wanted without question, hoping that at some point, he’d uphold his promise to help her find Klaus. Bringing it up got Mr. J angry, maybe he was jealous? No, that couldn’t be, Puddin’ was the only one for her. She was used to him screaming at her, he was blowing off steam from a hard workday, or a run-in with Batwoman. It meant nothing. 

Reaching the run down apartment, Harley got off her motorcycle and grabbed the box of sweets from the back of her bike. A click of her tongue brought her Hyenas to her side patiently waiting for a treat or toy. She patted their head and skipped up the stairs toward their unit, slowing as she heard shouting. Crap, Puddin’ was in one of his moods. Lingering by the door, she tried to eve’s drop the reason for his rage.

“Harley! Harley!” Joker bellowed, where was that insufferable bitch? He looked out the closed blinds, seeing her bike parked across the parking lot. So she was home? He thought he heard her prattle on about going out. It didn’t matter. She needed to be his decoy keeping Batwoman and the Avengers busy while he rigged a hospital to pump his signature laughing gas into every ward. Harley’s stupid antics trying to find that junkie of hers put them on everyone’s radar. Instead of doing his original act he had to settle for second rate slaughter. Why did he take that girl back? She was nothing but a whiney pest.

As if on cue, Harley gingerly entered their cozy home, “yes puddin’?” She half smiled and crossed the living room to the couch where he sat, papers strewn all around him along with beer bottles and needles. His green hair was a sweaty mess, tie was undone. The bottles and needles were the tip he wasn’t *just* in one of his moods tonight. He was having one of his performance blocks, a few of their men died for interrupting him when he was in this state. Mr. J rarely had blocks like these, usually getting high and drunk helped ease his work tension. Her smile returned to her face, date night surely would ease his tension. She sat the dessert on the table, a cake that read `` love you.” 

“Trouble with your next and best, Puddin’ Pop?” She leaned in and gave his shoulders a rub, he slapped her hands away. 

He rolled his eyes transfixed on notes he was writing down. “Where have you been?” 

Harley hesitated, fearing the truth might set him off. He hated when she lied, the last time she tried he promised to cut her tongue out. He was funny with his threats sometimes. He wouldn’t be that mean to her, right? Yet she didn’t risk it. “I went out looking for Klaus. There’s a chance, I might know how we can find him Puddin’. I was thinking we could go together?” Mr. J’s hand froze mid scribble, his muscles tensing as he slowly put the paper down. “You’re still looking for that damned junkie? The boy’s probably dead in some dumpster by now, let it go.” He growled. He was sick of hearing about that stupid boy Harley picked up. She was always picking up strays, whether it was those stupid hyenas, or a stray cat. The girl was always thinking she could save people, including him– ha! What a joke.

“I can’t puddin’ he’s my best friend. He’d do the same for me.” She backed up as he turned to glare at her. His dark eyes pierced her like knives. “Please? You promised we’d find him and the others.” She saw the grave she was digging herself into, yet she couldn’t find a way out. “Forget it, I brought you your favorite ice cream cake, maybe we can watch a movie and snuggle together?”

GIF by sendelisinbeyazcocuk

Joker cackled at her witty comment. Like he was going to get close to some bitch who was fucking some street trash. “Well,” He got up off the sofa. “How about this, why don’t you stop pissing me off and go find your precious little fuckboy.” In one quick stride he bent down so their noses barely touched. His gaze boreholes into her skull, an apology squeaked out of her lips. His hand shot out, punching her and sending her to the floor.  Panic flashed on her face, “I won’t be made a fool of, Harley!” Her protests and pleas sickened him. Harley used to be obedient and easy to get along with. No, this little bastard managed to win Harley’s heart. She was willing to travel through space for that stupid boy. When had she gone miles for him lately? She had the nerve to bring him cake as if that’d make up for her incompetence? She was useless, utterly useless! His hand snapped up and grabbed her throat.

“No! No! Mistah J, it’s not like that he–” She gagged as his hands seized her neck and pulled her up to her feet. “Please, baby, I’m sorry!” Tears sprang to her eyes from his painful grip.

“All I hear you talk about is that stupid boy! Night and day! I can hardly think of anything else over your blubbering!” He shoved her toward the door and opened it. “Go! Go find him and be a pain in his ass!” Joker slapped her as she approached him pleadingly. He shoved Harley against the door. “Get the fuck out!” Her hesitation enraged him. Throwing open the door, he seized her by her neck with both hands and shoved her into the staircase railing. It was always about her and her needs, never could she just shut up and help him with his plans. Really, what was so special about that druggie anyway?

“I’m sorry! I’ll stop lookin’ puddin’ please!” Harley fought back tears as she was slapped, she pushed and tried to free herself from his iron grip. Each breath of air she sucked in became harder as both hands now crushed her airway. Her back bowed against the railing, her eyes widened in horror, “Please! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She tipped and was sent into a three story freefall. A scream tore from her chest and was choked as her head cracked against the pavement below.

Joker stared down at her unconscious body, damn, now he had to move. He went back inside and grabbed the cake. Coming back out and tossed it over the balcony at her, “oh Harley! Thanks for the cake, but I'm watching my weight!” He laughed at his corny joke when it landed on her chest and walked back inside to start packing. 

Harley laid there barely conscious, she couldn’t feel anything except agony– as though she took on a tank and lost. She wanted to cry, to scream, to plead for him to forgive her. She knew better than to bring up Klaus when he was like this. This was her fault. She was useless. She couldn’t find Klaus or make things right with Mr. J. She hated herself. 

Moments bled together in a fog, mumbled chatter and sirens were barely registered as she faded in and out of consciousness. Upon opening her eyes, her blue gaze met the soft features of an asian doctor.

“Try to stay still. You’re safe.” He said through a thick Korean accent. He and another medic rushed her down the hall for examination. He’d seen this too many times, not just with her, but other young women. It was always the same excuses. How many times a day was he going to patch up patients only for them to run back into their abusers arms, “씨발놈!” He muttered, grateful that most of his colleagues didn’t speak Korean. 

She could barely understand him. Trying to move, she felt rough canvas straps against her skin and a large foam head restraint. Harley closed her eyes and cursed mentally. This ride on the stretcher was a regular one whenever she was with Mr. J. She was used to waking up to strange sterile faces and having to escape hospitals early to avoid being hauled off to the asylum. Mr. J never came to visit her. She had many visitors over the years, Batman would sometimes sneak in when he thought she was sleeping. Sometimes it was Poison Ivy, leaving her a potted plant. Oftentimes though, it was Klaus. He would sit with her, smuggle in greasy fast food and the two would have a little party together. Sure he’d sneak off to raid the place for drugs, but, beneath his terrible addiction he loved her unconditionally. A similar fall that broke her right hip and shattered her femur, left her wheelchair bound for weeks. Klaus waited on her hand and foot, he treated her like a queen. She laughed and smiled more with him than with Mr. J.

How could she leave Mr. J, he needed her. He needed someone patient who could help him recover, maybe recover enough that he could lead a healthier lifestyle. Who was she kidding, deep down she knew there was no help for her Puddin’, he didn’t want to be helped. How could she leave him when he had been a large part of life? He was familiar and they had good days, they had great days together where they tore up the streets. She felt alive in his arms, the way they’d dance together after blowing up a building. 

They wheeled her into a private room, white, sterile, too familiar. Harley knew the routine by heart, especially the domestic violence screenings. What could she say? Her Puddin’ got angry and jealous and pushed her over the staircase railing. No. She waited for the barrage of questions, now, they were too busy. Hooking her to IVs and checking her over.

“Send an order for an MRI and Xray” Dr. Jang Cheol examined her for a concussion and broken bones. “What happened?” His first guess, Cerebral Edema; swelling in the brain. She struggled with speech and was showing signs of confusion. They had to work quickly to ensure the swelling didn’t get worse. Her speech slurred and events she described made little sense. His guess, it wasn’t severe yet. He couldn’t be sure until they ran tests. He’d seen this before, looking at her neck, he made out fingerprints black and blue against her pale skin.  Harley was a notable patient, one who left before authorized discharge. How had she survived this long? He’d dealt with patients who got caught in the Joker’s crossfire, most didn’t make it through the night. How had Harley Quinn survived this long? 

Upon further examination, she had a fracture in her sacrum and several herniated discs throughout her lumbar. Her Thoracic spine had been fractured, but, luckily for her she could recover from that with time and rest. The tests came back confirming his suspicion, Cerebral Edema; swelling of the brain. The fall and head trauma caused the brain to swell. Medications were introduced intravenously along with putting her on a respirator. This should help bring down the swelling, however, Jang Cheol determined if the swelling didn’t subside in the next few hours, surgery might be required. He could see Harley’s disapproval at the mention. If it kept her alive for another day, then he did the best he could do. He couldn’t change their lives, he couldn’t tell Harley to stay away from the Joker, well he could, but what good would it do? 

Once Harley was alone, she lay there doped up on morphine, the shuffle of feet outside the room gave her hope that Klaus would come waltzing into her room like he always did. This time, she was alone. Just her and her thoughts, did Mr. J worry about her? Probably not. He was long gone by now. She wiped her eyes with a shaky hand, every movement hurt especially to breathe. Pretty sure along with a broken back she’d cracked a few ribs too. Damn she really did it this time. If she’d just given in and let Klaus go, Mr. J wouldn’t have been so angry, but, how could she? Klaus was her bestie. They were two peas on a plate– however that phrase went. She closed her eyes and drifted off under the weight of the medication and head trauma.

KANE

Kate Kane had seen much in her years as Batwoman; cartels, serial killers, her sister Red Alice, Gotham’s meanest and maddest kept her up ‘till all hours. None of it compared to the malice of the Joker. Since Bruce’s disappearance, Joker tore up Gotham in a frenzy to find him. Every night Kate was one step behind Joker’s next great scheme to flush out Batman. 

Her bat signal went off that evening as she finished patrol. Hoping to get some sleep, that plan was dashed. Getting on her bike, she raced to the scene of a bombing. A children’s hospital was flooded with gallons of nerve gas. The brought green and purple plumes of gas spilled from the windows, a telltale of Joker’s handiwork. She searched the scene, ducking out of sight of bomb squad and federal investigators. Joker was long gone, leaving Kate to focus on evacuating those she could save. Reaching the top floor of the building, she checked her oxygen reserves. She had 30 minutes to find the detonators– if she was lucky she could backtrace it to it’s origin point– maybe catch the son of the bitch this time. 

A flashing red light flickered under an office desk at the end of the lab. Through the green and purple gas she made out one of the detonators. Reaching the desk, Batwoman looked at the monitor; readings glared gut wrenching data through the toxic fumes. Her stomach knotted, Kate choked back bile that burned her throat.

“Stage 4 patients to be prepped for termination.” Looking around, Batwoman quickly cut off power to the gas container and plugged a data transfer chip into the desktop. What were the stage 4 children? Why were they killing them? Was this a random hit for Joker or had there been a modus operandi to the location? Finishing the transfer, Batwoman made a bolt for the window adjacent to her. A flash of light and force threw Batwoman into the far wall, stunned she looked up to see two figures, a man and woman, step over the rubble toward her. Her vision refocused, spotting their long straight hair and bright colors. Getting to her feet, she launched a kick at the blonde woman, her leg connecting with the woman’s shoulder. She didn’t flinch, Kate yelped at the sharp pain of bone connecting to steel. The woman was solid. The dark haired man grabbed Kate’s arm and swung her, throwing her across the room like a rag doll. She laid there dazed by the impact and watched as they walked over to one of the computers. Their hands placed atop the machine, a soft glow emanated from their eyes. A beat, the light faded and they raised their palms out to the computer sending a blast of energy at it and the other rows of computers surrounding her. She covered herself in her cape, making herself small as the debris flew and pounded her. 

Silence fell upon the room, Batwoman peered from her cape to see only flames and smoke. The two were gone. Fires spread out hot and fast, Kate didn’t have time to see what they were after, she ran for the window and jumped. Her cape spread gliding her through the air under her grappling hook shot and swung her around the building toward the ground. Regrouping, she followed the shadows reaching her batbike. There were too many questions, not enough answers to her liking. Batwoman sped off for her upstate loft, hoping to clear her mind.

The ride home soothed her, seasonal rain sprinkled against her kevlar body suit, tempting her to take off the mask and wig. Taking in the rain and cool air, Batwoman tried to make sense of what she saw. Her leg throbbed, if she didn’t have a broken bone, she’d be surprised. The hell were those two? She swore she kicked solid steel. She heard of mutants like the Wolverine whose bones were made of adamantium, but never had she fought someone like that. Reaching her home, Kate climbed the terrace up to her room, taking point where her cleaning staff would be at the hour. She stripped out her uniform and placed it back in its locked briefcase under the baseboards of her bed.

Kate grabbed her computer and sat on her bed, reviewing the data that she’d seen at the hospital. Pouring through it, most made little sense to her. The data consist of research findings on genetic testing. Finally, her green eyes landed on a sentence, “Subjects with stage 4 cancer are determined by Dr. Drakken for project Termination.” As she read, the story weaved itself in her mind. A desperate attempt to cure cancer at the price of childrens’ the worst part, the parents didn’t know what they were signing their kids up for. Termination was a compound that was infused in them after chemotherapy was administered. The radiation would activate cells in this compound that would bind to cancer cells. When bound, it was thought to destroy the cancer cells. At least, that’s how Kate understood this information. The problem with the report, children who received the serum developed mutations, abilities. When that occurred, those patients were transferred to another facility to “help them.” What that facility was, the file was too corrupted to tell her, but, Kate’s gut told her it wasn’t a place for healing. 

She laid back on the bed and closed her eyes. Between Bruce’s disappearance and the mutant research program he’d invested in, Kate debated how the two were connected. It matched up in theory, but she had little to go on. A knock rapped her door, “It’s open.” Arthur came in, Kate relaxed, grateful it wasn’t one of her staff. She didn’t feel like explaining the soot and bruises to them.

“A contact of mine has informed me that Harley Quinn is in the ICU.” Arthur stood at the edge of the bed; he pieced together the story her bruises, cuts, and dirt told. A picture of her misadventure replayed itself clearly– she was lucky. He went for the first aid kit tucked in her nightstand drawer, grabbing some aloe for her burns. “She suffered a severe fall, he thinks she and the Joker had a fight.” Like a switch, Kate’s fury resonated in her deep green eyes. Arthur drew back from one of her burns as she rose. 

Kate got up, her muscles screaming for stillness– a moment of rest. Rest that wouldn’t come unless that bastard was stopped. Bruce couldn’t end it; something propelled the Joker and Batman in a war that neither sought victory in. Their twisted codependency bore shallow graves to countless masses. 

She was a soldier. When a war started, she was the one to end it. The maniacal search for Batman– the fires that filled Gotham– had to be extinguished. Grabbing the suitcase, she put in her credentials and grabbed the dusty kevlar and matted ruby wig. 

The Joker would kill Kate and this rate, letting the Joker think he’s in the wind was the best chance to stop him. Pulling his phone out, Arthur sent an encrypted text to a local contact at the hospital. “Give me five days and I’ll have his location.” His calculated facade softened as the fire Kate’s eyes cooled. Still she dressed, Arthur tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “Kate,” 

“Harley needs to know someone’s there.” She answered. The cycle of solitude festered in ways she’d seen too often. The number of women killed by domestic abuse was lost  from the sleepless nights.

Arthur’s gaze was transfixed on his phone screen, yet he didn’t miss a beat, “You might reach her better as Kate.” He pocketed his phone, adding, “I’ll arrange a ride for you.” 

GIF by claracivry

“That’s not necessary, just find him.”

Kate found casual wear that would blend in, the last thing she needed was for this to turn into a publicity stunt. She grabbed her batsuit-case and left for one of her electric cars she had in her garage. The drive was quick, traffic lighter than it was typically at this hour. 

Kate’s thoughts flitted back to the days leading to Bruce’s disappearance. For Bruce to leave town without a word was not uncommon. However, to leave while investigating this research program? No. He was meticulous and notorious for hyper fixating on conspiracies like this– especially if Wayne Enterprises had ties to it. 

Reaching the hospital, she checked in and followed the security guard to Harley’s ward. Passing the desks, she smiled and waved to the familiar faces working the night shift. While Bruce’s money went into crime prevention and technology, Kate’s wealth went toward minority communities and victims of abuse. Medicine and education were Kate’s passions. Circling past one of the doctor offices, her ears honed on a phone conversation. She slowed her pace to a hover between the office and one of the patient rooms.

“She’s stable enough for the extraction, but without a psychological evaluation, Incepting the patient would put both you and her in danger.” Dr. Jang Cheol looked over Harley’s file, the labs came back good– a vitamin deficiency here and there– otherwise she was healthy aside from the sustained injuries.

Arthur had contacts everywhere, she looked at the name on the plaque, Jang Cheol. MD committing it to memory.

She resumed pace toward the room, passing wards until reaching the critical care unit. Soft beeps of monitors and shuffle of nurses was the only sound. The ward was deafeningly quiet. Reaching Harley’s room, her heart broke. Knots tightened into hollow balls in her gut; each step she took made her sicker as she saw Harley’s broken body. “Harleen?” Kate whispered, no witty quip or playful response. Even on opposite sides of the law, Kate admired Harley’s light. Her smile and jubilance lit up a room– even when she set it on fire. 

Nothing. The light was gone. Harley looked so fragile laying there; tubes and wires watching every heartbeat. Walking toward the bed, Kate went to sit in the chair beside it. The purple rings around Harley’s neck reminded her why she was Batwoman. “I don’t think you can hear me… maybe you can, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Batman has failed you. You… Christ, nobody should be here like this. We should have done more to stop the Joker.” Reaching out, Kate took Harley’s hand, avoiding the IV that was taped to her hand. “You’re not alone. I’ll do my damndest to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” To anyone. Kate sat there until she drifted off to sleep.

Arthur followed Kate a few minutes after having left, catching up to the room Kate and Harley were in, Arthur glanced between the hall and room. Aside from surveillance it was clear. Arthur entered the room and closed the door leaving a crack open. He had minutes to spare, the doctor would cover foot traffic around Harley’s ward for the last half hour of his shift. He had twenty to complete the extraction. 

[cherrydreamer]

Billy and Steve are together.

Together together.

Have been for a while.

And while they still have the libido and the stamina expected of two teenage boys, things aren't always quite so excessive in that department anymore. Now they have meals together, ones that don't always end up with Billy kissing a dusting of sugar from Steve's lips, or Steve licking the sauce from Billy's fingers. Now they can go to bed and sleep together. Just sleep. Cuddled close, one of Billy's legs slung over the top of Steve's, and Steve's arms holding Billy tightly, but still just sleeping.

And now they have routines. Regular reliable routines 

Like Tuesdays, when Billy comes round for family dinner, charming Steve's parents with his opinions on sports and politics and telling stories about his job at the pool that has Mrs Harrington giggling over her barely touched meatloaf.

Tuesdays are also the nights when they hang out in the 'den'- the one place in the house that never seems to change to follow the fashions in Mrs. Harrington’s glossy interior design magazines- sitting together on the old, slightly overstuffed couch, watching the old but perfectly serviceable television set while Steve's parents stay out of their way, preferring the more austere living room with the bigger television and the more fashionable but much less comfortable armchairs.

Most nights they watch something light, some cheery sitcom that requires no brainpower, something they can both laugh at as they hold hands and rest heads on shoulders and talk lightly about their day, canned laughter filling comfortable silences as they just revel in the joy of being together so casually, so easily.

But tonight there's been a shift in the schedule. Their old dependable sitcom replaced with a quiz show. Something with a charismatic host in a smart suit and glamorous assistant waving her hands over appliances, exercise equipment and pictures of white sandy beaches.

And questions. Lots of questions. All of which Steve and Billy throw themselves into answering.

The first round is some potluck thing, lots of quick questions about wide enough topics: current events, famous actors, books that even Steve has heard of, middle school level science and a few harder ones that have them both spluttering out random syllables and oh, oh, uming, and clicking their fingers in the air as they grasp for answers that are right on the tip of their tongue. It’s just tricky enough to be fun. So they keep watching.

Billy rubs his hands in glee when the host announces a sports round, his delight turning to annoyance when it turns out to be all about golf. But Steve knows the answers instantly.

"Shoulda guessed you'd know all about golf, rich boy," Billy nudges Steve with his shoulder, and Steve smiles,

"Yeah I used to watch it with my Dad and he'd tell me all about the best players. We even used to play a bit together at his club, before...uh...before he got bored."

The of me goes unsaid, and Billy rests a comforting hand on Steve's knee, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb,

"Mmm? You got some of those ugly-ass checked pants?" Billy’s smile turns wicked, and the hand on Steve's knee starts inching higher and higher, "maybe we could go play sometime?"

"Really?" Steve raises an eyebrow, "You into that? Spending hours walking around and whacking balls into little holes?" 

Billy throws his head back with a laugh, squeezing the meat of Steve's thigh,"And you looking preppy as shit? Baby, hell yeah I'm into that. Maybe I could come be your caddy? Promise I'll take good care of your twelve inch wood." 

He wags his tongue and Steve bursts out laughing, the spluttery, gasping one that only comes out when he’s really amused, the one that makes Billy’s heart leap and his wicked grin soften into a smile of fondness.

Steve’s still chuckling by the start of the next round. It's one about nature and now it's Billy time to shine, as he reels off the names of creatures that Steve can’t even picture. 

"How'd you know all that?" Steve asks, mouth gaping in shock.

"My mom...she liked animals,” Billy’s voice is quiet, and Steve softly strokes a thumb back and forth over his knuckles, “She was a bit of a hippy, knew all about the ones that were endangered, used to tell me all about them.” 

"That's nice," Steve hums, "She have a favourite?"

Billy nods, "Yeah, sea turtles. We saw 'em a few times. She usedta get sad about how they left their eggs on the beach all unprotected, used to say they should sit on 'em like birds and make sure the babies all get out OK."

He huffs out a laugh, but Steve hears the sadness in it and pulls him closer, pressing a kiss into his curls when Billy rests his head on Steve's shoulder.

They fly through the next few rounds, Billy whooping with pride when Steve matches up pictures of European cities to their countries even when Steve tries to shrug it off with, "got Mom's family or Dad's businesses in most of 'em." It's followed by Billy surprising Steve with a flawless identification of classical composers from snippets of music, shrugging just as casually as Steve, "They put in some dumb anger management thing at school back when I was younger. Had to listen to a fuckton of that stuff and say how it made me feel. Most of the time it made me feel even more pissed off that they were wasting my time with that shit but...yeah, some of it was good. Some of it helped."

They're both just as hot on the pop culture ones, only missing a couple about some musicals that Billy dismisses as girly shit even though Steve's definitely heard him singing along to Greased Lightnin' when he's been fixing up the Camaro. And then there's a food round, where Billy gets to sit back and watch in delight as Steve quickly works out which dishes the host is describing from an anagram of its name and a short list of ingredients.

"My Nonna woulda whacked me with a wooden spoon if I used bacon," Steve tuts dismissively, disagreeing with the host's description of a carbonara, "Should always be pancetta."

"Lotta knowledge in that pretty head of yours," Billy murmurs softly, pressing a kiss against Steve's forehead, but Steve shakes his head,

"Nah, just...junk. Nothing useful. Still too dumb to get into college, aren't I?"

"Not dumb." Billy's tone is serious, brokering no argument, "You. Are. Not. Dumb." He punctuates each word with another kiss, working his way down from Steve's head and ending on his lips, "All that college bullshit doesn't mean anything."

But Steve doesn't look convinced, looking down at his fingers as they worry at a hole in his jeans, "And knowing how to make a carbonara does?"

"'s not just that though, Stevie. It's more like… like when I had that really shitty day so you made that mac and cheese with the tuna and sweetcorn in because I told you once, once, that that was how my mom made it. And how you bought copies of my favourite tapes for your car, cause you know listening to the radio makes me worse when I'm angry."

"You like knowing what song's gonna come next," Steve shrugs, "Something you can be sure of. Makes sense."

"Not to most people," Billy looks at him seriously, "But it does to you. Because you're smart like that, OK? Not-" he leans forward to kiss Steve again- "Dumb." 

The last kiss lingers until a quiet knock on the doorframe sends them flying apart, both  turning round to see Steve's mom hovering there, a well worn notebook in one hand and a large glass of something with ice and lemon in the other,

"Hello boys!" 

"H-hey, Mrs Harrington, I...we-" Billy's stammering, floundering for an explanation, but she cuts him off with a smile and a wave of her hand and her usual, "Elena, dear, please," before turning to Steve, “Am I disturbing you two if I stay in here? Your father is insisting on watching some utterly terrible Western and those fights are just so gosh darn rowdy that I can’t focus.” 

Billy nods immediately, standing up to make room, but she shakes her head, "Oh no, no, you two stay cosy. I'm perfectly fine over here," 

perching herself on an old piano stool and sitting primly, ankles crossed, with her notebook held open on her lap. Billy sits back down, as far from Steve as he can, ramrod straight and trembling slightly, eyes flicking from the commercials and Elena as she alternates sipping at her drink with sketching intricate floor plans in her book.

After a few minutes she feels Billy's gaze and looks up with a smile as the quiz show theme rings out again,

"Oh you boys keep playing along, I don't mind the noise, really. It was just all that awful hollering and yee-hawing, kept making me jump!"

She sounds so casual, so relaxed, that Billy figures she didn't see anything, that they got away with it. He forces himself to relax, to breathe, and Steve moves a little closer to him, a subtle shift that he disguises as a stretch, managing to reach out a leg so that his foot can press against Billy’s thigh, a point of contact that looks innocent enough, but instantly has Billy’s racing heart calming and his trembling fingers stilling when he brushes them, just once, against Steve’s bare ankle.

They both turn their attention back to the screen. It’s apparently some kind of ‘Mega Mind’ round, and now the questions are even harder.

They fumble through the first two literature ones, Billy drawing upon an extra-credit essay he did for English and calling out The Yellow Wallpaper in a slightly hesitant voice, while Steve reminds himself to thank Robin for the classic film nights she’s been hosting as he comes up with Mildred Pierce.

And then the host reads out the third question,

“Which element is needed for the chlorophyll in plants to capture the energy needed for photosynthesis?”

"Ugh, science. I’m out," Steve groans, looking expectantly at Billy who looks just as blank,

“Dunno...oxygen? No that's what they give out. Maybe, uh…"

"Magnesium," Mrs. Harrington answers, taking a sip from her glass. She notices Billy and Steve looking at her, their eyes wide,  "Oh, sorry, what is magnesium?"

Steve blinks in shock, "It's not Jeopardy, Mom. And how the hell did you know that?"

She laughs, a little dismissively, sketching another few lines in her notebook, "Oh Steve, I do know a few things."

It turns out that's a lie.

She knows a lot of things.

She answers the next science one easily, some long Russian name tripping easily off her tongue, and then it's the Arts.

"Caravaggio, or, who is Ca- oh you should know that one Stevie! Remember? After that gallery in Florence when you had those nightmares about Medusa? He kept creeping into my bed-” she directs this part at Billy with a smile, “babbling on about the snake lady. It took me days to work out what he meant!” she lets out a tinkling laugh, attention briefly flicking back to the television to call out a perfectly pronounced “Die Walküre" before the host's even finished reading the question.

And she keeps going, initially only speaking up when Billy or Steve don't answer, waiting for a few beats of silence and not even lifting her eyes from her notebook before she chimes in with, 'Burundi' or 'Elsa Schiaparelli' or 'Arcaro on Whirlaway', but soon she starts getting more involved, answering almost every single question in the jackpot round, quickfire ones ranging from astronomy to zoology, almost as soon as they'd been asked.

She only stumbles a few times, umming and ahhing or scrunching up her nose in a way that Billy notices is the exactly that same as Steve's thinking face, and the boys step in instead. A few times they all shout the answers together, a chorus of voices and a trio of satisfied smiles when they get it right. 

And then, all too soon, the quiz is over. The wide-smiling host and lucky winner Shirley-from-Nebraska waving happily to the camera as the credits roll.

Mrs. Harrington shuts her long forgotten notebook with a snap, looking over at Steve and Billy on the couch,

"You two are good together," she smiles,

"Yeah?” Steve smiles, “Suppose we did alright. Maybe we should go on it?” he turns to Billy who smirks back, “Could win you a new car, Mrs. H?"

Elena laughs at that, her eyes crinkling as she smiles warmly at Billy,

"You're a sweetheart. But I mean you two," she points a finger at him and then at Steve, "Together. Boyfriends? Or...partners? I'm sorry, I don't...I don't know the word." 

They both look at her, dumbstruck, and she continues,  

"I told you, I know a few things. I see how you are and you're good together." 

She looks directly at Steve for a moment, her smile growing, "You're happy now, I hear you laughing so much with him. I'd missed that."

Steve blushes, reaching over to take Billy's hand and smile at him as Elena stands up, looking at the empty glass in her hand.

"Another one, I think. Can I get either of you anything?"

They're still both too stunned to speak, Steve answering for the both of them with a shake of his head.

"Suit yourself," Elena smiles,"And Billy?"

Billy turns to her, a worried expression on his face, as she pauses in the doorway, "You're welcome to stay the night. Whenever you want." She looks away for a moment before turning back, a flash of something mischievous in her eyes, "Just try to keep it down if you're… laughing." 

#harringrove #fluff #oh this dumb little headcanon I have of them watching quiz shows together and being AMAZING #and then I ALSO wanted Mrs H to be amazing too #and supportive #of course #so yeah #ended up writing this #ficlet #my writing #cherrywrites

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I got swept up in bingos and lost motivation for it along the way. But it’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy it ❤

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: alcoholism, mentions of alcohol poisoning, a lil bit of a steamy make out, but that’s it

Words: 2114

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31 @objection-argumentative

Year 1:

Sonny hardly contacts you. You go weeks with nothing from him, only to wake up at 4am with a phone call and a very drunk Sonny.

“Sonny? It’s 4am here—”

“Doll…I’m so—” you can hear how his words slur, and you can also hear that he’s crying— “so sorry, doll. I shoulda neva touched ya like that—”

“Dominick, are you drunk?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, worried and annoyed at once. “So—sorry…so sorry…” and then he hangs up. You fell back onto the bed, concerned about him; Genoa was only six hours ahead of Manhattan. He was drunk at…10am. That wasn’t healthy.

Unable to fall back asleep, you shot him a text, making sure he was okay before you got in the shower. But he never responded. Sighing, you call his mom; you still had her number since Sonny called her from your phone, and you had been growing close with his parents.

She tells you that she’s worried he’s drinking away his problems, but every time she offers to go to Genoa, he shoots her down, telling her he needs time alone. You’re just worried that time alone means him sinking further and further into the bottle.

 ********************

Year 2:

You saw when your phone lit up, Sonny’s number flashing on your screen. You glanced around the precinct before answering your phone, heading for the on-call room for privacy. It had been three months since you had a drunken call from him, and you were going to lay down the law with him.

“Listen, Sonny, I can’t listen to your drunken ramblings while at work—”

“Ah, shit, ya at work, huh?” he asked, cutting you off. But he sounded lucid rather than drunk. “I’m sorry; I forgot the time difference. I just wanted ta talk, let ya know…I’m not drinkin’ anymore. Look, I’ll let ya go; text me when ya free so we can catch up…please.”

You felt bad for assuming, but with your only contact for the past year being drunk Sonny, it had become habit. “Y—yeah, I’ll see if I can leave early, okay? But don’t stay awake for me.”

“Don’t get in trouble fer me,” he replied, making you chuckle. “I’ll talk ta ya soon…and I’m sorry, fer the past year.”

 *******************

You were no longer with SVU; it had been too hard working there, especially without Sonny. But you also couldn’t deal with the stares, even from your squad. So, you transferred to Homicide instead. And your boss thankfully let you leave early.

You texted Sonny the moment you were home, and instantly he was calling you.

“First, I wanna say I’m sorry fer the drunk calls—”

“Dominick Carisi Jr. If you say the phrase “I’m sorry” one more time, I’m going to fly to Genoa and smack you,” you replied, cutting him off.

He fell silent for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet ya tired of hearin’ that, huh? Well…After ya left here, I—I spiraled. Hard. Turned ta the bottle, if ya couldn’t tell. But I hit the bottom, and I’m startin’ ta work my way back up.”

“What happened? What bottom did you hit?” you asked, breathless. You were happy he was telling you all this, because you had been so, so worried. But you also didn’t want to pry into his personal life or make him uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to respond. “I…it was 5am when I woke up, shakin’ fer a drink. I remember the first three shots as I made a cocktail, and then…. I woke up in a hospital bed, my stomach pumped. I guess I dropped ta the floor when I lost consciousness, and my downstairs neighbor heard it.”

“Oh my god, Sonny! Are you okay now?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to give him a hug, hold him to you.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I had my stomach pumped and part of my liver cut out, but I’m okay. I no longa have the urge ta drink, and I dumped everythin’ I had. But please, tell me what’s goin’ on with ya; how’s life at the precinct?”

You spent hours talking to Sonny that night, even though it was getting later and later for him. He had so many questions, wanting to know everything going on with you. He vaguely mentioned that he got a job at a grocery store as a cashier, but otherwise, he was focused on you.

 ****************

Year 3:

You and Sonny talked almost every day, falling back into your habits before all this mess happened. You joked around, sent funny pictures to each other, ranted about your days; it was almost as if nothing ever happened. Almost.

From the pictures, you could tell that he was getting tanner, and he started growing out his hair and beard, making you swoon. Not that you’d tell him that; you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you flirting yet.

But you were happy that things were getting back to normal with you two. It had been almost 4 years since the club incident, and it barely crossed your mind anymore. You had dated since Sonny was in Genoa, but no one seemed to be working for you. At least you could make out with someone without having flashbacks, so you called it a win.

You knew why it wasn’t working out for you, though; you were in love with Sonny, had been since the moment you met him. You were able to move past the club, but you couldn’t move past him. That’s why you had hated yourself so much, and that’s why you felt terrible leaving him behind in Italy. When he kissed you outside the airport in Genoa, you had thought that maybe he had felt the same way about you. Then that first year with drunk Sonny happened, and you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

You were still close with his family, too. Ma Carisi often invited you over for dinner, and you met Sonny’s sisters. You were the emergency babysitter for both Mia (who didn’t think she needed a sitter, until she met you and had fun with you) and Bella’s little girl. And Pa Carisi enjoyed having debates about laws with you, plus the odd sports talk. Slowly, you became one of the family, and you loved them all like your own.

 ***************

Year 4:

Ma Carisi called you, inviting you over for dinner once again. You accepted, telling her you’d be there in thirty. You had to park on the street with all the cars there; the Carisi girls were home for dinner, as well. You smiled as you made your way up the path to the front door, then knocked. The door opened, but instead of Ma Carisi greeting you with a warm smile, it was Sonny.

“Hey doll,” he said, eyes lit up with amusement. You froze for only a moment before you were crushing him in a bear hug. You heard the huff of air as you took the air from his lungs, but you didn’t care; you had missed him so much. You had pinned his arms next to him, so he couldn’t even hug you back.

“Doll…ya crushin’ me…” he gasped, and you finally let him go. Though, you kept your hands on his arms, not believing that he was there, in front of you.

“Are you back for good?” you asked, your voice hushed. You were waiting for him to deny it, for him to say he was only visiting.

“I’m back fer good. Already got my apartment—” He was cut off again as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. You couldn’t stop the tears that appeared, so happy to have your best friend back. He rubbed your back, murmuring that it’s all okay now, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him. You fought the urge, not wanting to complicate things.

Instead, you ran your hands over his back, then leaned away to look at him. “Have you been working out?” It was true that he was deliciously tan, his hair coifed, and his beard trimmed neatly. He was already so much more attractive than you remembered, even with the pictures he had sent.

He barked out a laugh, a gleam in his eye. “I have, yeah. Whenever I felt the urge ta drink, I instead went to work out. I’m not a body builder or anythin’, though.”

“I’m proud of you, Sonny,” you said, and you meant it. You had gone through hell after the club incident, but Sonny didn’t have a walk in the park either. And you were glad he had found himself.

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he smiled at you. He took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and you swooned.

 ******************

After the surprise greeting at the front door, he brought you into the house. Ma Carisi and all his sisters gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Pa Carisi patted your shoulder; the normal greeting from the family. But now that Sonny was there, too, the energy was truly alive. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a fantastic time together. The talk was loud, happy, and energized. It was almost as if Sonny hadn’t been hiding in Genoa for four years.

After the talk had finally died down, it was time for you to go home. Sonny offered to walk you to your car, and you agreed, not wanting to leave him quite yet.

“I’m so glad you came back, Sonny. I’ve missed you,” you said as you stood by your driver’s side door.

He grinned at you. “A promise is a promise. I told ya I’d come back once I was…better.”

“And are you better? Did you date at all in Genoa?”

His smile faded, and you worried you offended him. You were about to apologize when he spoke. “I am and I did. But no one there was…it fer me, ya know?”

“Yeah…same thing here. I dated a few people, but no one felt right—the spark wasn’t there. At least I had no flashbacks; I hardly remember that night anymore, to be honest,” you said, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sonny simply nodded. “Me either, really. It was so long ago…plus, I bet the drinkin’ didn’t help. But I do remember you, showin’ up outta nowhere on a random street in Genoa. Talkin’ me through the worst time of my life.”

“And I remember you, comforting me during a thunderstorm when you didn’t have to do that. Your emotions were everywhere; I couldn’t imagine the turmoil I must’ve put you through—”

“No, no, look at me,” he muttered, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “No matter what happens—in the past or the future—I wanna take care of ya, make sure you’re okay. Comfortin’ ya, it was a slice of normalcy after I thought I’d neva have that again. I needed ya there, and I’m so thankful I had ya.”

You smiled up at him, melting into his touch. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you felt closer to him than ever before. “You know what else I remember, Sonny?”

“Hm?”

Slowly, you leaned forward, going slow enough that he had plenty of time to pull away. But instead, he also leaned in until your lips brushed against each other. You smiled softly before you pressed your lips more firmly to his. The hand still cupping your cheek tilted you slightly, letting him kiss you a little more forcefully, his beard tickling you as he moved.

There was the spark that was missing from all your past relationships; you had felt it in the airport, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, however, there was nothing holding you back from deepening the kiss, your tongues coming together in a beautiful dance.

Sonny gently pushed you back against your car, the kiss getting more heated. Your hands went to his shaggy, luscious hair, tugging softly and making him moan into your mouth. His hands dropped to your hips, pushing you back against the car as his tongue memorized your mouth.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, both of you panting hard. You were about to suggest he show you his new apartment when he muttered, “I wanna take this slow. Please.”

You shut your mouth, nodding. You’d do anything to make him comfortable and happy. “I can do slow. As long as I have you, Sonny.”

His eyes brightened and he gave you his signature goofy smile. “Ya have me fer as long as ya want me.”

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

[seanfalco]

Happy Birthday Winnie | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98​

Word Count: 7k Warnings: Recreational drug use, alcohol, smut, public sex

[ masterlist ]

"So, where are you guys takin' me?" Win asked again curiously.

"For the thousandth time, you'll see when we get there," her Nathan exclaimed with a laugh. "Maybe we shoulda blindfolded her too," he muttered, glancing over at his twin.

"That would've been nice, wouldn't it, babe?" Lyddie's Nathan teased before biting her neck softly.  

"Don't worry, it's gonna be amazing, you're gonna love it, I'm sure of it," Lydia put both hands on Win's shoulders, massaging her.  "Now relax and enjoy your day."

"Mmmm," Win hummed, the sound turning into more of a moan than anything under their attention.  "I guess I can do that," she joked, letting her eyes slip shut. 

"That's a good girl," her Nathan teased, taking her hand to give it a squeeze as he looked out the train window.

"Fuck, I hate when you say that in public..." Lydia shuddered while still massaging Win's shoulders.  "I look like a nymphomaniac with zero self control." 

"And where's the lie, Lollipop?" her Nathan leaned back with a laugh, reaching into her backpack for more snacks.

"Mmm, you can call me a good girl any time," Win taunted.  "Besides, if you're a nympho, Lyds, then so am I," she laughed.  

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Win's Nathan murmured, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, maybe my mum was right when she said I'd find my crowd," Lyddie looked out the window.  "I think we're almost there!" she cried, holding Win tightly. 

"How d'you know that?  Have you been here before?" her Nathan asked in the middle of devouring a tin of cookies.  

"Once, when I was a kid, but it's been so long..."

Win snagged a biscuit before leaning closer to the window to see if she could get any idea of where they were going.  All she could see were crowds of people and tents.  "Is this some sort of festival?" she asked excitedly.

"Might be... why?  Does the birthday girl like this sort of thing?  I had no idea!" Lydia gasped dramatically.  She had the idea a few months back.  She thought it would be nice to take a little time off and be as far away from Win's family as possible on her special day.

"Oh my God," Win exclaimed, turning back to throw her arms around Lydia.  "This is the best birthday gift.  Thank you thank you thank you!"

"So I guess you like it then?" Lydia joked, hugging Win back.  

"What kinds of drugs d'you think they got in there?" Lyddie's Nathan mused. 

"Nathan!  Probably all of them, but we're not doing that, not after what happened at the club,” Lydia snapped. 

"What, wou almost shaggin' me at the car park?" he snorted.  "We're here, might as well try somethin'... we're immortal."

"I'll do some Molly," Win murmured with a smirk.  "It's not a proper festival if you're not a little high," she teased, winking at Lyddie's Nathan.

"As always the mum of the group is gonna have to take care of everyone..." Lydia rolled her eyes. 

"Nah, c'mon!  Do it with us!" her Nathan pouted. 

"Forget it, I'm not gonna be peer pressured by my fiancé, no way.  It's Winnie's first birthday in this dimension, I wanna remember it."

"Aw, maybe I shouldn't then," Win deliberated as they got up to exit the compartment.  "I don't wanna make Lyds be the designated driver, as it were." 

"But it's your birthday, babe, you should do what you want," her Nathan argued, following her out.

"That is true, you are the boss," Lydia grabbed her backpack before Nathan could reach it.  "I don't really mind it, you're too adorable for me to be upset." 

"And I'm not?" her Nathan asked, perplexed.

"I think you're adorable," Win exclaimed with a smirk.  "I think you're all adorable," she teased, throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder at them before climbing down the steps to land on the platform outside.  "Looks like it's a bit of a walk," she noticed, shading her eyes from the sun overhead.

"I'll give you a piggy back ride if y'want," her Nathan offered.

"D'you want me to carry you too?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, poking Lydia’s arm. 

"Ha, very funny..." she muttered, putting her beach hat on.  "Take the backpack, and be careful, there are breakable things in there, breakable gifts," she whispered, following the others.

Once they made it to the entrance, Win's Nathan let her down and they showed their tickets to get in, getting coloured wrist bands so they could drink. 

"Okay, let's find the schedule," Win exclaimed, bouncing on her toes to look around, lost in the sea of people.  "Then we can figure out which acts we wanna see and plan our day."

"Here, I have it on my phone somewhere..." Lydia searched for a few seconds before showing it to Win.  

"D'you have any more food in there?" her Nathan whined, opening the backpack, but was surprised with a black velvet box.  "Lollipop, c'mere" he pulled her to the corner. 

"What?  If you keep eating everything there will be nothing left for the rest of us..." 

"No, not that, what's this?  Are you gonna... y'know... pop the question?" 

"Oh my God!  No, I got her a bracelet, why?  Do you think she's gonna be disappointed?"

"Okay, I think I've decided which act I wanna see first," Win announced, handing Lydia back her phone, noticing the looks on her and her Nathan's faces.  "Everything okay?"

"Brilliant," Lyddie's Nathan smiled, quickly closing the backpack.  "Let's go then." 

"Well, do you?" Lydia muttered under her breath, she hadn't even considered that, but now she definitely was. 

"No, I don't think so, it's a nice surprise," he assured.  "I just thought... y'know.  You're very romantic, I thought this was another cinematic stunt."

Win led them to the stage for the act she wanted to see, the music having already started.  “I still can’t quite believe I’m here.  I’ve wanted to come to this festival forever.  You guys are the best.”

"Seeing you happy is my gift," Lyddie embraced Win from behind as they danced together.  Her Nathan disappeared for a second, returning with four bottles of hard lemonade which Lydia was reluctant to drink at first, but she wanted to have a good time with them.

“Thanks babe,” Win exclaimed, trading him a kiss for the bottle, bringing it to her lips as she swayed with Lydia.  Once that set was up she excitedly pulled them with her to the next band she wanted to see, the stage on the other side of the field.

“Hey Lyds, I know I probably don’t have to ask, but d’you have any sunscreen in that bag of yours?” Win asked, reaching for the zipper.

"Yeah sure," Lydia was already a little buzzed and didn't even remember the velvet box inside.  "I brought like four bottles just in case, Nathan did that thing Hermione did to her bag in the Deathly Hallows, anything we might need is in there."  The boys couldn't bother either, they were too busy sharing a joint to even realize what Win was doing.

“Nifty,” Win exclaimed, reaching in the bag and feeling around.  “What’s this?” she asked, pulling out the little box before finding the bottle of sunscreen.

"Oh, that’s... that’s a gift for you, I was gonna wait until later when we're alone," Lyddie murmured, remembering her Nathan's words and hoping Win didn't get the wrong idea.

“Oh!” Win exclaimed, quickly dropping the box back into the bag.  “I don’t wanna ruin your surprise!” she said instead, quickly zipping the bag back up.

"Don't worry, you're gonna love it... I hope you will..." Lydia took the sunscreen and tossed the bag to her Nathan while she helped Win apply it.

“I’m sure I will,” Win murmured.  “I wonder what it is,” she mused with a grin before turning to reach toward Nathan.  “Here, gimme that joint,” she exclaimed.

Lyddie's Nathan passed it to her with a smirk.  "D'you want some, Lyds?" 

"No, thank you," she answered, almost getting distracted as she ran her hand up and down Win's chest.  "I'm pretty sure you're the people they warned me about in D.A.R.E," she joked.

Win laughed, offering the blunt back to Nathan before pulling Lyddie in close to kiss her.  “Thanks for helping me, now I won’t burn,” she murmured.  “Do you need any help?”

"You know, I did put on sunscreen before we left the train, but I won't complain if you wanna put your hands all over me," Lyddie mumbled against Win's lips.  "Or other parts of you..."

“Mmmm, I like th’way you think,” Win murmured, playing with the hem of Lydia’s shirt.  “Hey boys, we gotta use th’restroom, we’ll be right back,” she said, stealing one more hit before pulling Lydia with her to go look for a secluded spot to snog.

"Can you believe that?" Lyddie's Nathan exclaimed, watching as the girls disappeared in the crowd.  "Won't even invite us..." 

“Don’t worry bout it, I’m sure by th’end of the night we’ll be gettin’ lucky too.  Might see if anyone’s got some molly though, since Win mentioned it earlier...” he mused. 

"Yeah, yeah," Lyddie's Nathan agreed, following his twin.  He really wanted to see how Lyds would be like high, but he wasn't gonna push her. 

Lydia happily followed Win until they found a space behind the stage where they could be alone.  "So... what could you possibly wanna do away from everyone?" she asked, flashing her girlfriend an innocent smile.

Pinning Lyddie’s back to the wall she finally let her hand slip under her shirt to feel her as she kissed her neck.  “Just wanted t’put my hands all over you,” Win answered as she worked her way up to her lips.

"Oh, Winnie," Lydia gasped.  She loved how hot Win's skin felt, how close her breathing was.  "Only you can make me feel like this," she sighed, sliding her hands down her girlfriend's back.

“Only me?” Win asked softly, Lyddie’s words warming her making her feel incredibly special.

"Only you," it was true, each of her lovers made Lydia feel amazing in a different way, and only Win was able to leave her breathless like that.

Win moaned as she slipped her tongue into Lydia’s mouth, her hand sliding down the front of her shorts.  “Be good and be quiet for the birthday girl,” Win murmured teasingly.

Win's words made Lydia shudder and she nodded obediently.  "I'll be quiet," she whispered, letting her eyes shut as she enjoyed the feeling of being touched like that.  "Anything for you."

“I may be waiting for my other gift, but I want this one right now,” Win teased, circling her fingers around Lyddie’s clit as the music washed over them from the nearby stage.  “I wanna make you come, baby,” she purred.

"You're so good to me," Lydia breathed before her lips were on Win's again in an effort to silent her needy moans.  She couldn't believe they were actually doing this out in the open; it was risky, but that only made Lyddie hotter.  "Winnie, I'm--"

“Good girl,” Win groaned, capturing her lips as she felt Lydia shudder as she came.  “Fuck that was hot.  You’re so sexy, Lyddie,” she purred, pulling her hand from her shorts and bringing her fingers to her mouth to clean them.  “We should probably find the boys, I bet they’re getting jealous by now.”

"They can be jealous all they want," Lydia kissed Win once more before taking her hand.  "Right now I'm yours," she took a deep breath, trying to recover.

——

"Oh, finally!  What were you two doin' in the bathroom all that time?" Lyddie's Nathan asked. 

"That's not something you ask people, Nate," Lyds mocked.

“Takin’ a massive dump, since y’asked,” Win joked, pulling him into her arms for a kiss.  “Why, were you feeling neglected?” she teased, already feeling light and floaty.

"A little bit, yeah," Lyddie's Nathan huffed.  "We got you a little somethin', but I don't know if you deserve it anymore... maybe we'll just keep it all for ourselves," he looked back at his clone and winked.

“It’s my birthday, and there’s plenty of me t’go around boys,” Win replied, glancing from Lyddie’s Nathan to her own, pouting at them.  “But if that’s how you’re gunna be, I’ll just go off with Lyddie again,” she said, taking a step back from Lyddie’s Nathan.

"No, don't!" he yelped, reaching for her.  "I was just screwin' around, I love you, baby, c'mon..." 

"Awww, you're adorable," Lydia teased him, squishing his face between her hands.  "So cute when you're jealous." 

"You two are gonna end up killin' me," Lyddie's Nathan grumbled, taking Win's hand and handing her a small plastic bag with colorful pills in it. 

"Good thing you're immortal then."

Win, grinned as she took the baggy from him, pouring the tablets out into her hand.  “Ahhh thank you babe.  Okay, who wants one?” she asked, placing one on her tongue before her Nathan obediently opened his mouth for her to give him one.

Lyddie's Nathan opened his mouth as well and looked at his fiancé hopefully. 

"Stop giving me that look!" Lydia said, shaking her head. 

"Okay... but I think you'd have fun," he muttered.  "If somethin' happens, just do your Wolverine thing and cure yourself." 

"First of all, since when do you know about Wolverine?  And second of all, if this shit reverses my powers, it won't be pretty!  I'll probably have an asthma attack or some shit." 

"It won't!  It's gonna be okay." 

"Ugh, if my mum knew about this... alright, hit me," Lyds grunted before sticking her tongue out.

“Okay, here we go,” Win exclaimed, giving Lyddie the last pill.  “Just enjoy it Lollipop,” she murmured, chasing the pill with a kiss.

The sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon as they headed toward the food trucks parked off to one side.  

“God, I’m starving,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, leaning against Lydia, his other arm draped over Win’s shoulder.

"Me too," Lyddie leaned back against him.  "I want something with a lot of cheese, and then I want soda." 

"Y'can't have soda, baby," her Nathan laughed.  "That'll give you a stomach ache." 

"Fiiiine you buzzkill, juice then," she took Win's Nathan's arm.  "It's so weird that I took the pill, but I don't feel any different." 

"Just wait, Lollipop, you'll see."

Once they got their food, Win found a nice empty spot in the grass for them to sit, the drugs starting to take effect, washing over her and heightening her senses.  Crawling into Lyddie’s Nathan’s lap, she moaned around her bite of food, the burger she’d gotten tasting better than anything she’d ever eaten before.

"Wow, okay," Lyddie's Nathan was taken by surprise when Win got on his lap, but he snaked his arms around her, wanting her to stay.  

"You look so beautiful right now," Lydia watched Win's Nathan while eating her pizza.  She still didn't feel any different, or so she thought.  "Like, I'm really hungry, but if I wasn't I'd kiss you."

“You want a kiss, Lollipop?” he asked, smirking as he set aside his nachos, sucking the leftover cheese sauce from his fingers. 

"More than anything," Lydia smiled, taking his fingers in her mouth before pressing her lips to his.  "Hmmm, you're so hot." 

“You’re hotter,” Win’s Nathan countered with a smirk. 

"I don't believe you," Lyddie, shoved the rest of her food in her mouth. "You and Winnie are the hottest people in this festival."

"Aren't you forgettin' anyone?" her Nathan teased. 

"Oh, you have the same face, of course you're included," Lydia huffed. 

“God, I feel good,” Win murmured, leaning back against Lyddie’s Nathan’s chest.  “The stars are starting to come out.”

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Lyddie's Nathan ran his fingers through Win’s hair.  "Like you," he murmured, kissing her cheek before going back to his kebab.

“Aw, you’re sweet,” Win giggled, finishing her food and stretching.  “I’m torn,” she whined. “I wanna go dance, but I’m also really comfortable right here.”

"I'm full, I kinda wanna listen to music and relax," he said, holding Win close.  

"If you want, I'll dance with you later," Lydia offered, without taking her eyes from Win's Nathan while she fed him his nachos.

“That sounds perfect,” Win murmured, turning in Lyddie’s Nathan’s embrace to get comfortable, resting her cheek against his shoulder as she gazed up at him, playing with the strings on his hoodie. 

“Now this is paradise,” Win’s Nathan sighed.  “Good music, a hot girl feedin’ me,” he murmured with a grin.  “I could get used t’this.”

"Oh, it's paradise alright," Lydia licked her fingers clean when she was done, and offered him her drink.  "Was it good, Natty?"

“So good,” Win’s Nathan replied, taking a long drink before passing the straw back to her, pulling Lydia into his lap.  After all, nearly every couple in the grass around them were in similar positions, snogging or cuddling.

Lyddie's Nathan smiled before leaning in to press his lips to Win's, taking his time to savor her kiss.  "We wanted t'make sure things were perfect for your big day." 

Win moaned into Lyddie‘a Nathan’s mouth, pulling him closer. “It’s more than perfect, you’re perfect,” she assured him, her head spinning, her body aflame with pent up need, the drugs heightening every sense.  Just feeling his hands on her skin was driving her crazy. 

"I love you, Winnie," Lyddie's Nathan kissed her back, matching her enthusiasm.  That's when he had an idea, remembering the day he proposed to Lyds -- he’d made her come by licking a lollipop and using his power to mirror the sensation on her clit -- deciding to do the same thing, this time he took Win's hand and gently stroked her palm. 

"I don't know why, but... I feel hornier than usual," Lydia whispered, running her hands under Win's Nathan's shirt, along his chest and his stomach.  “Kiss me, I wanna taste you."

“That would be th’ecstacy, m’love,” Win’s Nathan chuckled, shivering under her touch.  “C’mere,” he growled playfully, slipping his hand behind her neck to pull her closer as he opened his mouth to her.

With a soft moan, Lydia captured his lips.  "Remind me why they say drugs are bad again?" she joked, pulling him closer tugging at his shirt.  "I want you, Nathan, I've never wanted anything in my life like I want you right now."

“I love you toooo—“ Win gasped as the sensation hit her and she squirmed in Lyddie’s Nathan’s lap.  “Nathan, are you—doing this, or am I going crazy?” she asked, her breathing turning heavy. 

"What?  D'you feel somethin'?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, faking confusion while still rubbing the palm of Win's hand firmly at a steady pace.  "What's wrong, sweetheart?" 

Win glanced down at her hand, noticing that the sensation seemed in sync with the movement of Nathan’s fingers.  “Oh, you sly dog,” she moaned, biting her lip as she threw her head back.  “Why have you never done this before?  This is so fuckin’ hot.  Jesus, Nathan,” she breathed.

Win’s Nathan laughed harder, looking around, frowning at Win and his clone, unsure what exactly was happening, but Win looked like she was having fun.  “Let’s go for a walk, find somewhere t’be alone,” he whispered in Lyddie’s ear.

"Oh, I love how everyone's taking me for walks today..." Lydia grinned, taking Win's Nathan's hand, giggling just imagining what he wanted to do, shivers running down her spine from his whispering.  "Be right back," she announced, not that the others cared.

Spying a small pavilion with a sign for indoor bathrooms, Nathan headed toward it, pulling Lydia with him.  “Hope you’re not averse to a quickie in the loo,” he whispered in her ear.  “I wanna shag you so bad, Lyds.”

"I'm not averse to anything that involves your cock inside of me, Nats," Lydia exclaimed, barely making it to the bathroom without jumping his bones.  Her sex drive was usually crazy, but the drugs made it ten times crazier.  "I've never done this before... it's so exciting."

“You’ve never shagged in a public toilet before?” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, pulling her into the small one room stall with him and locking the door behind him.  “Well, I am a master at it by now,” he said, pinning her against the wall as his mouth went to her neck and his fingers went to the button on her shorts.

"No, only locker rooms and car parks," Lydia gasped, burying her fingers in his curls as his kisses awakened every last bit of her body.  "Oh, please, Natty, take care of me," she moaned, fumbling with his jeans, her hand sliding under his boxer briefs to palm his erection.

“Oh fuck, Lollipop,” Win’s Nathan groaned, tearing Lydia’s shorts and knickers down to pool around her ankles, urging her to wrap one of her legs around his waist as he pressed his cock to her entrance, kissing her deeply as he began to press into her.

Lydia kissed him back, whining as she felt his cock teasing her.  "Please, shag my brains out, Nate... fuck, you're so sexy, I need you," she mumbled, pulling Nathan closer again, desperate for him, his taste, his scent, it was all driving her mad.

“Oh God, Lydia,” he groaned, focusing on kissing her as he thrust up into her, filling her abruptly, not giving her time to adjust before he began to fuck her.  “Fuck, you feel amazin’,” he gasped.

"Nathan!" Lydia nearly screamed in pleasure, holding onto him for support, her head wondering for a moment, remembering their wild nights in New York, it was so good to feel like that again.   "Choke me," she breathed.

“Gladly, Lyddie,” he exclaimed, his hand not holding her leg circling her throat, lightly at first before squeezing, watching her expression as he continued to pound into her.

The feeling of Win's Nathan's hand on her throat made Lydia's mouth fall open, immediately driving her to the edge.  Her hands blindly grabbed his ass, encouraging him to move faster.

Win's Nathan yelped in surprise, but he sped up at her urging, thrusting into her even rougher, her back no doubt digging into the wall, but she seemed to be loving it and Nathan lost himself in her, feeling his pleasure crest quickly.

"I'm so close, Nathan," Lydia managed to say, enjoying his reaction to her unexpected touch.  She had to bite her lip not to cry out loud as she came undone for him, her body tensing up as she stared deep into his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Win's Nathan breathed, pressing his forehead to Lydia's as she came, clenching around him tighter and he gave several more jerky thrusts as he spilled his seed in her, stilling to catch his breath.  "Fuck, baby, that was hot as fuck," he panted.

"I fucking love you," Lydia breathed, slightly overwhelmed by how good it had felt, how intense the sensations were; she even teared up a little.  "And I love fucking you," she laughed before kissing his collarbone softly.

Nathan laughed, pulling out and tucking himself back into his jeans.  "I love fuckin' you and I fuckin' love you too, baby," he exclaimed, taking her face between his hands to kiss her, brushing her tears away from her cheek.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're mine, at least half of you is..." Lydia murmured, pulling her shorts back up, feeling slightly lightheaded.   waited for so long, I-" Lydia nearly fell, holding onto him.  "Sorry, I got a little dizzy," she laughed.

"Whoa! Lyds, you okay?" Win's Nathan exclaimed quickly, catching Lydia before her legs went out from under her.  "Maybe we should get yeh some water and go sit back down for a bit," he suggested worriedly, wrapping his arm around her to keep her stabilized as they headed back to where Win and the other Nathan sat.

"I'm... I'm fine, I think I just need some water," Lydia assured, though she didn't know if that was supposed to happen, she was just happy to not be alone.  "It's probably cause I've been drinking, and this is my first time, nothing serious."

——

"Y'like that, huh?" Lyddie's Nathan kissed Win's neck with a smug grin, his fingers moving slightly faster.  "It's a special trick, for special occasions, such as your birthday... just gotta be quiet, okay, baby girl?  Or everyone's gonna know you're a dirty little thing," he purred quietly. 

Win whined but nodded, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her moans.  “God, I love you,” she murmured, kissing his neck, her breathing punctuated with a sharp breath every few moments.  “If you keep that up I’m gunna come soon.” 

"And that's not what you want?" Lyddie's Nathan asked, slowing down a little, but not stopping.  "Don't you wanna come for me, Winnie?" he murmured, bringing her hand up and kissing her palm gently, dragging his lips along her skin. 

“I—ohhh,” she sighed, her words melting.  “Please Nathan,” she begged softly.  “I do wanna come. God, I feel so dirty doing this right out in th’open,” she confessed. 

"You're a filthy girl, Winnie... but y'look so cute when you beg," Lyddie's Nathan murmured, licking her palm, slow at first, but more vigorously as he felt her squirming in his lap.

“Oh god, yes,” she whined. “Nathan, I’m—“ she didn’t get to finish her sentence before she came, pressing her face into his chest as she tensed, gasping a breath, her fingers of her free hand balling in his shirt. 

"That's my girl, so good, that was so fuckin' hot!" Lyddie's Nathan praised, holding Win against his chest.  "Happy birthday, baby," he said, kissing the top of her head, trying to ignore his own excitement.  He didn't wanna ruin the moment.

As Win came down from her orgasm, her head still swimming slightly, she tilted her chin up to look at him.  “I wonder what the people around us thought of you licking my hand,” she giggled before kissing his jaw.  “Thank you though, baby, but what about you?  I wanna make you feel good too,” she whined in his ear. 

"Well, you orgasmed in front of everyone, so I wouldn't worry about what they think," Lyddie's Nathan chuckled, but the thought of Win making him feel good was also an interesting one.  He snapped his fingers and a blanket covered them.  Everyone around was high, so it's not like they’d even notice...  

“And I’m the dirty one?” Win asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as her hand slipped under the blanket, and she shifted so she could unbutton his jeans, freeing his throbbing cock with a smirk.

"I thought y'were a fan of public sex..." Lyddie's Nathan mused, cupping Win's tits playfully as she found a comfortable position. "I just wanna please you, darlin', I wouldn't want my girlfriend missin' out on the concert,” he teased.

"I am," she replied, "I'm just sayin' you're as dirty as me, if not more," she pointed out, arching her chest into his hand as she stroked his length, brushing her thumb over his sensitive head and feeling his cock twitch in her hand.  "I love doin' this with you," she sighed, leaning against his shoulder as she worked her fist up and down, slowly at first. 

"I might be, a sexy bird taught me a trick or two at a hotel pool once," Lyddie's Nathan started, but soon he had to press his lips to Win's shoulder, tryin not to be loud.  "Fuck, baby, your hands are-- Jesus..." he mumbled. 

Win laughed, relishing his reaction.  "God, you're cute," she cooed, kissing his temple.  Wanting to tease him further, she sped her hand up, squeezing slightly as she worked him, drawing his earlobe between her teeth.  "Be a good boy for me, Natty, can't be too loud now or everyone'll know what we're doin'."

"Oh, you're evil, Winnie."  Lyddie's Nathan threw his head back, his eyes clenched shut, much like his fists.  "I love when y'wank me off like this, baby, don't stop," he groaned, bringing her closer, seeking her lips. 

Win grinned into the kiss. "And I love you baby," she replied, jerking him faster still.  "I want you to come all over my hand, make a mess under this blanket, y'filthy boy," she purred.

Lyddie's Nathan's best efforts to not be obvious about what was happening were lost when he heard those words.  "Fuck..." he moaned, slightly louder than intended as he came, not caring anymore what people would think, he was pretty sure half of them were doing the same thing anyway. 

Win's grin grew and she kissed Nathan despite the sticky mess still covering her hand.  "Good boy," she murmured.  "God that was hot."

"So hot!  I have no clue why I feel like this when y'call me a good boy, but Jesus... I fuckin' love it," he confessed.  Win had been confusing him, he was usually the dominant one, but he liked when she took charge like that.

"Really?" Win asked, taken aback, her stomach fluttering at his admission.  She'd always been the dominant one between her and her Nathan, and while she liked subbing with Lyddie's Nathan, there was something about watching him submit to her that excited her more than she could say.

"Well, you are good, so so good t'me," she murmured, running her clean hand through his curls. 

Before she could draw on his power to clean up his little mess, Lydia and her Nathan returned.

"Hey, loves of my life," Lydia smiled wiping the sweat from her forehead as she carefully sat down next to the others.  "Do you have some water?" 

"You okay, babe?" her Nathan asked, quickly zipping up his jeans and turning to check on her, opening the backpack to get her bottle.  "Y'seem a bit... shaky." 

"Yeah, I'm fine, how was your... sexy adventure?" she asked, sipping some water while leaning against Win's Nathan.

Win borrowed Nathan’s power to clean off her hand.  “It was very nice,” she answered with a grin, glancing at Lyddie’s Nathan.  “You?” she asked.

"Good, great," Lydia nodded, holding Win's Nathan tightly with her head against his chest.  "It was amazing actually.  In a second I'll be good to go again if you'd like..."

“Damn Lollipop,” Win’s Nathan laughed, kissing the top of her head. “I think you should probably rest for a bit first, huh?”

"I hate it when you're right," Lydia huffed, her head still spinning.  "How about... I give you your gift then?" she suggested, reaching for her backpack to fetch the black velvet box.  "Happy birthday, my love!" she cried, offering it to Win.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, babe,” Win exclaimed, though she opened the box excitedly, having been wondering all day what could be inside. 

“What is it?” her Nathan asked curiously.

“Oh my God, Lydia, this is— it’s beautiful, I’m never gunna take it off,” Win gasped, pulling out a small silver bracelet with a heart shaped charm with the letters N + W + L + N on it. “Nathan, can you help me?” she asked, holding out her wrist for Lydia’s Nathan to wrap the bracelet around.

"This is so sweet," Lyddie's Nathan helped Win with the bracelet and kissed the back of her hand.  "You could've asked me t'make it,” he whispered to Lydia. 

"I know, I just saw it on my way home the other day and couldn't resist, so I asked for the engraving and..." Lydia smiled, watching how happy she was.  "It looks perfect on you."

“Thank you, Lydia, I love you so much.  I love all of you so much!” Win cried, feeling slightly overwhelmed with emotion as she pulled them all in for a hug.

"We love you too," Lyddie squeezed her back, feeling insanely lucky.  "Do you still wanna dance?  Cause I'm feeling better and the boys are horrible at it, so they would just embarrass you." 

"Hey!" her Nathan shouted, knowing that she wasn't exactly wrong.  "A little respect please?"

“I would love t’dance!” Win exclaimed, helping Lydia to her feet. “Boys?” she asked hopefully. “You sure you don’t wanna come too?”

"I'll go just to embarrass you, Lyddie," her Nathan got up, dusting his jeans.  

"As I suspected, the best way to get you to do something is telling you that you shouldn't," she smirked.  "Are you coming, babe?" she looked back at Win's Nathan.

“Course I am, I wanna dance with the birthday girl,” he exclaimed, letting Lyddie help him up.

Lydia pulled him as they headed toward the stage.  She was never very good at dancing like nobody's watching, but right then she couldn't be bothered by anyone else.

Bracketed by both Nathans, Win shook her hair out, moving to the music as she pulled Lydia closer while grinding against her Nathan.

What a sight they must've been, dancing, kissing, and holding each other... 

"I’ve just had the best idea," Lyddie wrapped her arms around Win, “once we get to the hotel..." 

"What hotel?" her Nathan interjected, confused. 

"The one I asked you to find and make a reservation at?" 

"Oh... I knew I had forgotten somethin'," he grimaced. 

"So you're telling me we don't have a place to sleep?"

“Maybe there’ll still be rooms available?” Win’s Nathan ventured, though he had a feeling it was doubtful.

"In the middle of a music festival?" Lydia was trying very hard not to freak out.  "In a town with two hotels?  We're fucked..." 

"Nah, I'll fix it!" her Nathan tried to calm her down. 

"Just like you did with the corpse in the car that one time?" she scoffed. 

"I did fix that, we're not in jail so it worked!" he whispered.  "Calm down, we can make us a tent, problem solved."

“There’s an area for camping,” Win pointed out, gesturing over toward the far side of the field.  “A tent sounds fun!” she exclaimed.  “But maybe make it a lot bigger than it looks on the outside,” she giggled, not worried at all as she pulled out another joint to light.

"See?  You worry too much, baby, give us a little credit, you're not the only responsible one..." Lyddie's Nathan held her from behind. 

"That's arguable," she teased.  "But if Win's happy with it, then cheers."

“I still wanna know what this ‘best idea’ of yours is,” Win purred, wrapping her arms around Lydia as her Nathan plucked the joint from her fingers for a hit.

"Well, I was just gonna say I brought our special toy so maybe I could use it with you once we're alone," Lyddie murmured.  "If you want..."

“Oh?” Win exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.  “I’d like that a lot, Lollipop,” she replied, straightening.

"Good, cause I wanna fuck you until you scream," Lydia purred before biting Win's neck softly.

“Ohhh,” Win groaned, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s neck.  “God that sounds amazingggg,” she whined.

"We get t'watch, don't we?" Lyddie's Nathan asked hopefully.  He’d never seen Lydia doing that yet. 

"I'll think about it..." she taunted.

“Aw c’mon baby, I like an audience,” Win grinned, taking Lyddie’s Nathan’s hand.  “I’m feeling a little worn out, shall we go pitch our tent?  It’s not like there’ll be no music tomorrow.”

"Very well," Lyddie's Nathan kissed Win's temple.  "Let's go then. I just hope nobody notices the tent showin' up out of thin air... but it's dark enough, I think." 

"You think?" Lydia laughed.  "You are so carefree, I gotta try that sometime, cause being in my head is exhausting."

“You want another hit of this?” Win’s Nathan offered, passing Win’s joint around as he wrapped his arms around both girls as they began to head toward the camping ground.

"I have to take care of the pipes," Lydia frowned.  "We have a gig coming up, but I like to watch you." 

"Okay, big reveal..." Lyddie's Nathan opened her backpack and got a rod out of it.  "What's that?" 

"That's--" he smashed the rod on the grass and an entire tent came out, making her jump and nearly fall, “--our tent!" 

"JESUS CHRIST, Nathan! Was this really necessary?" 

"No, but it was fun, wasn't it?"

Win laughed.  “Ahh, it’s perfect!  Thank you babe,” she exclaimed, raising up to kiss Lyddie’s Nathan’s cheek before hurrying through the flap into the tent.  “Oh my God, Lydia!  You have t’see this!” she exclaimed, gaping at the furnishing.  “It looks like a fuckin’ hotel in here.”

"Okay, this is amazing!" Lyddie walked inside and jumped on the bed, pulling Win with her.  "I love it ! You're the best, Nate..." 

"What was that again?" her Nathan asked, joining them with a smug grin.  "I didn't hear ya..." 

"You're the best, thank you," Lydia repeated, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“My hero!” Win exclaimed, kicking her shoes off as she fell to the bed. 

“What about me?” her Nathan exclaimed with a huff and she pulled him down as well.

“You’re my hero too babe, always will be,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips.  “Seriously, this has been the best birthday ever.”

"I'm happy you had a good time, I've been so anxious all day to make sure everything is perfect, so it's good to know it all worked out," Lydia embraced Win, kissing her all over her neck and shoulders.  "It was a lot of fun... I just wish I could make you a cake."

“Aw babe,” Win cooed, giggling at her kisses.  “I don’t need a cake, I’ve got something just as sweet!”

"As soon as we're back home I'll make you one, I'll make you an entire dinner," Lyddie mused before remembering her offer.  "Are you too tired for my surprise?  Cause if you wanna go to bed I understand."

“I’m not too tired!” Win exclaimed, perking up.  “I want your surprise!”

"Boys, would you be so kind as to strip her naked for me?" Lyddie asked as she got up and dug through her backpack for the pink bag she kept the special toys on trips.

“Gladly!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, peeling her top off and unsnapping her bra.  

“Oh!” Win exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"Very good," Lyddie praised as her Nathan got rid of Win's shorts and knickers.  "So beautiful, all for me..." she slowly shed her own clothes and made a show of putting the strap-on on.

Win wet her lips as she fell back onto the bed, watching Lyddie while anticipation coursed through her.  “Oh God, Lyddie,” she breathed, turned on by how possessive she was being.

"Look at you, so needy, I love to see you like that..." Lyddie crawled atop of her.  Lyddie's Nathan on the other hand was extremely confused, if having Win make him a submissive wasn't enough, now he couldn't stop staring at his fiancé with that dildo on.

Win’s Nathan knew that look, he was pretty sure he’d had that look on his face the first few times Win wore the strap and he smirked, turning his gaze back to the girls. 

“I am, I need you so bad, Lollipop!” Win cried, running her hands down Lydia’s back.

"Do you?" Lyddie reached between Win's legs, circling her clit while looking up at her Nathan to catch his reaction.  "I guess you deserve it after how nice you were to me earlier behind the stage..." she teased her entrance.

Win whimpered, squirming under Lyddie’s touch, wanting more.  “Please, baby, I want you t’ruin me,” she begged desperately.

Lyddie slowly thrust into her, kissing her chest tenderly.  "Like that, sweetie, is this what you want?" 

"Jesus..." her Nathan breathed, swallowing nervously.

“Yes, more Lyddie,” Win gasped, her hands sliding down to grab Lydia’s ass.  “Please I want you t’ruin me.  Wear me out.  Use me.”

"That's a good little pet," Lyddie growled, slamming into her, moving fast and roughly.  "You're so good for me," she leaned in, pressing her lips to Win's.

Win let out a muffled cry as she kissed Lydia back desperately.  “Oh God, Lyddie, you’re amazing!” she whimpered in between kisses.  “I’m already so close, fuck, you fuck me so good baby!” 

“Holy shit...” Win’s Nathan muttered as he watched, spellbound.  Fuck but we wanted Lydia to do that to him.

"Yeah? You're gonna come for me, baby?" Lyddie kept moving vigorously.  She usually felt pretty awkward in situations like this, but seeing Win screaming her praises filled her with confidence.  

Her Nathan decided not to question it, he was too horny to think, all he knew was Lydia looked incredibly sexy like that.

“Mhmm,” Win nodded, unable to form words as her climax hit her like a bus and she raked her nails down Lyddie’s shoulder blades as she cried out before going limp.

"That was so hot," Lyddie took a second to breathe before pulling out.  "So, how was the show, boys?" 

"I- fuck!" her Nathan stuttered, quickly cleaning the mess from his hand.

“One of th’hottest yet!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, quickly tucking himself back into his boxer shorts.  “You’re gettin’ really good with that thing, Lyds.”

"Would you like to give it a go sometime?" Lyddie changed into a shirt and joined them in bed, pulling Win into her arms.

“Fuck yeah, I would,” he replied eagerly, kissing Win gently on the temple as he pulled her into his arms.

"You okay, Natty?" Lyddie asked, looking at her Nathan, who was strangely quiet. 

"Yeah, just a bit tired," he cleared his throat. 

"Aww do you want me to be the big spoon tonight?" she giggled. 

"NO!" Nathan jumped. "I mean... I wanna hold ya, I love you," he kissed his fiancé's cheek.

“C’mere,” Win called from the bed.  “I want all my loves.”

"Yes, baby," Lyddie snuggled Win, pulling the blanket to cover them.  "It's getting chilly in here..." 

Her Nathan hesitated for a second and joined them under the covers, stroking Win's hair.

Win opened her eyes to smile at him, reaching out to caress his cheek.  “Thank you guys for making my birthday so perfect.  I love you so much.”

"I love you too," Lydia sighed, soaking in their warmth.  "First birthday in this dimension, only a billion more to go... I can't wait."

----------------------

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator  @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren  @violetrainbow412-blog

#misfits #misfits fic #nathan young #nathan young x oc #nathan x win #nathan x lyddie #otp: green apple lollipop #timeline anomaly’verse #collaboration

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

----------------------------------------------------------

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

-----------------------------------------------

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

#meet ugly #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #indruck #sternclay #inclay #autistic Indrid #trans duck newton #trans agent stern #reader request #duck newton/agent stern

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 19 (Mafia AU)

Summary:  Rus is having a chance for a few regrets. Bad mistakes? Yeah, he's made a few.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings, Attempted Sexual Assault

Warning:  Heads up, let me add a warning here for attempted sexual assault and violence.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

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Read Chapter 19 on AO3

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Read it here!

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Rus came to with his head throbbing, feeling as if his skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool. The blanket under his mouth was soaked with his own drool, sticking clammy and cold to his face. With a grunt of effort, Rus tried to move and found he couldn’t. That quickly woke him up the rest of the way, that and the jangle of chains as struggled to get upright. Craning his neck, he looked up and down the length of his body to see the cuffs circling his wrists and ankles, each with its own chain fastened to a bedpost. He was still mostly dressed, he saw. His sweater was gone, but the button-up and trousers he’d been wearing were still in place, if horribly wrinkled. A small consolation that Rus clung to desperately, uncertain if he’d even know if anything had been done to him.

He had a vague, foggy memory of being carried, being moved, and burning hands moving over him but little else. No, that was wrong, he could remember more and didn’t want to, remembered Lilith and blood and fear, and might not know where exactly he was, but he knew who brought him here.

“no,” Rus whispered to himself, struggling harder, the restraints jangling with an almost cheery chime against the bedframe. “no, no, no.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up, little flower."

A terrifyingly familiar voice, one that carried with it its own memories of hurt and fear.

“don’t touch me!” Rus blurted hysterically, struggling harder despite the tearing pain in his wrists. “you stay away from me!”

All his struggles meant nothing, the cuffs allowed only enough give for him to lay on the bed, and he let out a weak sob as a hot hand settled on the small of his back, pinning him firmly back to the mattress.

“Darling, we haven’t even begun.” The bed shifted as Blaze sat down next to him and his hand slid up Rus’s spine in a mockery of soothing. “How well do you understand me?"

Rus could taste salt-sweetness, tears running back into his sockets and gathering nauseously at the back of his throat. That hand moved to the top of his skull, knuckles rapping against it painfully. “Answer me.”

“well enough,” Rus said dully. This was his own fault, he’d been warned, and even if Edge found him this time, who was to say what might happen between now and then.

“Better. This will go much easier on you if you’re obedient, precious.” That burning touch moved down to Rus’s face and he tried to jerk away instinctively, the chains holding him back. “Now, now, pet, calm yourself. If I only wanted to fuck you, I could have done it already, couldn’t I.” Those burning fingers skimmed lower, fondling his jaw. “Tempting, I’ll admit, such a pretty mouth. But why use force when you’ll be giving yourself to me willing?”

That confident assertion set off a spark, scorching a path of fury through Rus’s dull acceptance.

“Fuck you!” Rus spat. He twisted around to look at Blaze, truly seeing him for the first time. A fire Monster, he’d known that much, his flames the deep purple of an old ugly bruise and whatever passed for his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned, exposing more purple flames and leading a path down to his undone belt. A warning of things to come and Rus couldn’t help trying to struggle again, twisting fruitlessly against the restraints.

“Manners,” Blaze chided. “You’re so certain? You haven’t even heard the bargain yet.”

“I don’t care what it is!”

“No?” Blaze leaned in closer, flames crackling close to Rus’s audial canal. “What if I agreed to let up on Edge and Red? I’ve been toying with them for some time, you’re simply a shiny new game piece. I’d let them be, no more long nights worrying about when the next strike comes. They’d keep their silly little club and all their sluts would be safe.” He leaned in, his breath pouring over Rus like the heat of an opened oven. “I’ve heard you’re quite fond of those whores, hmm? Did my little kitty tell me true?”

Rus said nothing, squeezing his sockets tightly shut as he tried to keep the memories from pouring in. He couldn’t, could only think of Lilith, her pretty, confused face filling his mind’s eye as she fell to lie bleeding in the street, only to be replaced by Mona in the same way, hurt and dying. Sweet Mona who’d been kind to him from the start, tried so hard to help him, who was studying to be a nurse to help other people, their people.

But it was what Blaze said next that sent the rising uncertainty and fear in Rus’s soul boiling, a heat to match the Flame Monster’s own as he said, “Oh, there’s also your brother. Adorable little thing, isn’t he? To be honest, he’s a little more to my tastes.”

Rus jerked around as much as he could, craning his neck to glare that smug face. “you stay the fuck away from my brother!”

“Well, now, I can’t do that unless I get to stay the fuck with you. What do you say?” Two blistering hot fingers curled under his chin, hooking into his jaw and flames licked and curled painfully around his face. “Tik tok, precious, limited time only. You spread your legs so easily for Edge, what’s one more?”

He didn’t bother saying that he and Edge had never had sex, not really. There was no point; even if this Monster, this monster, believed him, it would only be more fuel for the fire of his hatred. He’d probably be fucking delighted to hear it, one more thing he could take from them, one more cruelty to inflict. There was only one bargain available, this one, right here and now. Rus wasn’t so foolish as to believe Blaze was telling the truth, but if it only kept him away from Blue, bought them a little time, what other option did he have?

Tears burned, nearly as hot as that touch, trickling down his face and hissing to stinging steam as they fell against Blaze’s hand. He couldn’t even turn away, Blaze forcing him to look up into that hated face as he whispered out, “deal.”

“What was that, precious?” Blaze smirked. “Speak up.”

“i said deal!” Rus snarled.

“Perfect.” He let go of Rus and stood, unzipping his fly. Rus closed his sockets before seeing what it revealed, forced himself not to flinch away. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. “Now let’s see how good you suck cock to start.”

“don’t ever recall you bein’ much of a rapist. guess you learn somethin’ new every day.”

That unexpected voice seemed to come from nowhere at first, slowly solidifying by the door. Blaze whirled around, his flames crackling in loud astonishment and Rus craned his head to see, a feeble blossom of hope sprouted in his soul.

Red stood leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his trouser pockets and a smoldering cigar clenched in his jagged teeth. His eye lights were their own flames, deep red coals that matched his cold grin. “what’s the matter? don’t ya know how to greet an old friend?”

“How did you—” The question was bitten off so hard Rus could practically hear the click of nonexistent teeth over Blaze fumbling with his fly, fastening his trousers again with haste.

“eh, wasn’t too hard.” Red pushed off the wall and wandered closer, dusting off the front of his suit jacket with an absent flick of ringed fingers. “kid is wired up like a gyftmas tree, got little ornaments tucked all over in his clothes. figured you’d find a way to snag him eventually, so best to be prepared.” Rus’s sneakers were lying abandoned near the foot of the bed and Red nudged them with the toe of his shiny, expensive loafer. “you’re gettin’ soft, hothead, shoulda stripped him bare where you first took ‘im.”

Blaze crossed his arms over his chest, flames rising in a flickering dance the only sign of his agitation. “You’re assuming I didn’t want you to find me.”

“true,” Red allowed.

“I admit, I was expecting your brother. It’s so rare for you to come out and play these days.”

“well, now you’ve got me on the monopoly board, so let’s get this over with.” From that angle, Rus could hardly see Red, only from the chest down. Two gold buttons from his vest were visible and the broad chain strung across it, jewelry instead of restrains. Always that ridiculous extravagance, he thought with bitter, near hysterical amusement, even now. “you know, always had a little regret at leaving you behind that day, but, eh. can’t ask someone to choose them over their brother, can you.”

Blaze made a sound like hissing steam. “you left me to die!”

“sure did,” Red agreed, with such bald unapologetic blandness that Rus cringed into the blanket beneath him. “but that’s an ‘us’ problem.”

“You abandoned me!” Now Blaze was huffing like a bellows, his flames darkening nearly to black, lashing and crackling around him. “We came up from the gutters together and you left me behind like I was nothing, like I was ash to be scraped from your shoes!”

“you always were a fucking drama queen.” Red only puffed on his cigar, utterly calm, as if he were arguing with someone in the market over the last head of cabbage, and Rus could only listen with distant, dizzy surreality. Even his tears were drying, leaving behind itchy trails on his face. “turnin’ shit into a dust feud, like there ain’t enough people out there that want us dead? yeah, we did, dragged ourselves out, spitfire, and you shoulda already known by then that my bro always comes first.”

Blaze said nothing, but he took a step back when Red came closer. One of his hands shifted to hover over Rus and he could feel the banked heat even from the distance, a warning to them both.

Not that Red seemed to care. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Rus, his words were careful, slow, as if repeating important directions to one who was easily lost. “been letting you blow off steam for a while now. lost some merchandise here and there, you’d stick your fat fingers into one of our pies and we’d lose a payday. that was fine.” A step closer and Rus could see his face now, Red’s grin wolfishly wide. “‘preciate ya leavin’ the school and the daycare alone. was a bitch settin’ those up without getting’ our names tangled up in ‘em.”

“Harming children is for Humans.” Bitterly spat, someone who’d met Humans on their terms too many times already.

“ain’t that the truth,” Red agreed lazily, His voice changed then, that easiness ceasing as it vanished into bitter, bitten cold, “gotta say though, i ain’t too keen on you threatenin’ my bro or his little pet.”

“They aren’t children. You’re here for him, then.” His hand dropped, settling in the small of Rus’s back and he couldn’t bite back a whimper at the sudden, aching heat licking at his bones. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you always were too concerned about those sluts of yours.”

“always were a sweet talker, fire crotch.” Red straightened briskly, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “time to get down to business. brought you somethin’ ya might want, thought you might consider makin’ a little swap.”

“How generous,” Blaze purred. The tension in him hadn’t eased, his flames still licking high, but he shifted like he’d found his footing. “You have nothing that I want, lover, not anymore.”

“no?” Red licked his teeth, his wet teeth gleaming in the lamplight. “not even a fresh supply of golden flower tea?”

Blaze went suddenly still, all that oozing smarm stilling into whispered astonishment. “You do not.”

“sure do.” Red pulled a hand from his pocket and dangled a small packet between two fingers. “fresh enough you can prolly smell it from there and plenty more where that came from.” He nodded in Rus’s direction, “only, he’s the direct line to it. you kill him, that’s it. supply begins and ends with the flower shop. you can have your fun with him if ya want but—” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under his suit coat. “i ain’t about to tell ya how to do business, but if you want in, i don’t mind sharin’.” He licked his teeth again, his smile widening as it curled around a single word. “lover.”

Blaze rocked from foot to foot restlessly and even beneath the sunglasses, the shift of his gaze from the packet to Red’s grinning face was unmistakable. “The fuck you would!”

“the fuck i ain’t!” Red countered, “see, that’s the beauty of it. you know the value, dontcha. these rubes ain’t got a clue, not even my bro gets it, but you and me? sweetspark, you and i know the value of a buck, don’t we. an’ we definitely know the value of this.”

“You’re lying.” But the words were without heat, almost uncertain. Wanting to believe.

“you think i’d come here without proof.” Red opened the packet and poured a little into his palm. He blew across it, scattering dried petals into the air subtle scent of golden flowers filled the air. Rus could taste it, his mouth automatically watering at the familiar flavor. Golden flower tea was a palliative when he’d been growing up, Blue brewed it whenever Rus wasn’t feeling well, whether the sickness was one of the body or the soul. There was always a cup for them both on days their pop had been particularly cruel or drunk, soothing away the lingering hurts. To taste it now, here, was abhorrent.

Blaze spread his hands and the floating petals still hanging in the air disappeared in tiny flares in his palms, that familiar smell going burnt and bitter. “You left me.”

“yep, i did,” Red agreed, unapologetic. "shoulda known if the choice was between you and my bro, there ain't no choice. get that you’re pissed, have every right to be, but don't go blamin’ me for being exactly who ya always knew i was. now, if ya wanna let the flower shop go, then we’ve got a deal.”

“Do you swear it to me?” Blaze said. He didn’t look at Rus, neither of them did; he was nothing, only a pawn in their game. They were the major players, two kings on either side of a chess board, deciding who to sacrifice and who to spare.

“’course i do,” Red snorted, “you got my word, sweetspark. i promise ya.”

The two of them stood for a long, terrible moment in a heated tableau. Rus kept as still as possible, terrified of tipping the decision in the wrong direction. Then came the sound of a drawer sliding open, a painful, hot hand grabbing his wrist as a key slid into the lock. Blaze repeated it on each limb and Rus scrambled to sit up, nearly falling in his haste to get to Red.

“get your shoes on, flower shop,” Red told him, “wouldn’t wanna hurt your little tootsies before i take ya back to my bro.” Rus did as he was told, all but shoving his foot into his shoe as Red turned back to Blaze. “good to be doing business again with ya. we’ll work out the details, but first. shake on it like pals, yeah?”

He held out a hand and Blaze took it, but the sudden sound that came from Blaze made Rus jerk, looking up from his shoes to see Red using that grip to yank Blaze closer, down to his level. His sunglasses slipped down, exposing the hollows that passed for a fire Monster’s eyes gone wide, disbelieving. “You—”

The whisper died in a fall of dust scattering to the floor. Red only watched it fall in a dark, glittering cloud and the soul speared through with the sharpened bone still in his hand was the last to dissolve. No king, only another pawn taken from the board.

Red shook his head, tutting softly, and tossed the little packet of golden flowers onto the dustpile, the remaining petals scattering. “better luck next time, pal. least you went out with dollar signs dancin’ in your head.” He frowned at his dusty hand and pulled out a linen handkerchief that matched his shirt, wiping it off as he turned back to Rus. “normally woulda let one of my boys do it, but i guess i owed him that much, to take care a’ it personal-like.”

Rus couldn’t move, crouched there on the floor with one shoe on as he stared at Red with words clotting in his throat. “you…you…”

The wide slash of his grin only went wider. “go on, spit it out.”

“you killed him.” The last word broke on a sob.

"sure did," Red agreed. He looked at his cigar, his expression twisting in impatient disgust at the dust coating it. He tossed it aside and pulled out another, biting off the end and lighting it with a match struck on the bedpost. "hate to break a promise, too. been putting it off too long. kept hopin’ he’d get over it and sign back on, but he took it a lil’ too far.” Red shrugged. “eh, dogs are better anyway. loyal.”

He wandered past Rus towards the door, his voice floating back where Rus was still sitting with his shoe in his lap. “thanks for the help. knew he’d get his mitts on you eventually and lead the way to where he was holed up. didn’t figure on it goin’ that way, but it didn’t work out too bad, all things considered.” He turned back, one finger curling in a ‘come here’ gesture. “hurry up, kid, time to go.”

With one shoe still untied, Rus stumbled after him as Red led the way out of the room. They were in a large house of some sort, open and spacious where the Fell brothers’ home was all narrow hallways and mazes. No one tried to stop them as they made their way downstairs, every room echoing and empty, and Rus clung to the bannister to keep from falling. His mind still felt fuzzy and wrong, disbelieving, catching onto what Red had said minutes too late.

“you used me as bait?” A sob heaved out of Rus, helpless and wretched, followed by more, as if they’d been bottled up in his chest and now that the first escaped, they were bursting out like bubbles an opened bottle of soda.

"’course i fuckin’ did. you were a pain in the ass to boot, always takin’ off like ya did. made it harder to track whether you were just bein’ a shit or not.” Red paused on the landing impatiently as Rus tripped his way down. “knock it off with the waterworks, yer givin' me a headache."

Rus tried, hiccoughing painfully as he said, "he shot lilith."

"and she almost got you a fire dick up the ass for her troubles,” Red said. The raw crudeness made Rus wince, choking back his tears. “anyway, save the cryin’ for somethin’ important, she's fine. for now. all bandaged up and ready for a heap 'o regret for sellin’ you out."

"don't,” Rus blurted. “please. don't hurt her."

Red swung around to look at him and Rus couldn’t keep from flinching, stumbling back a step from that piercingly sharp gaze. "you defendin' her?"

"she didn't know how bad it was. she tried to stop him."

“regrettin’ after you fuck up don't mean you get off." Red started down the stairs again, but he sounded almost pensive as he said, "’course, she did get shot, that ain’t no summer picnic. i'll think about it."

Hardly soothing, but Rus nodded, relaxing a little as he wiped at his face with his sleeve, mumbling out, “thank you.

Red chuckled, low and rich with perverse humor. "heh, already thinkin' you won, kid? i ain’t as easy as my bro, said i’ll think about it.”

Outside was a long black car, expensive and indistinguishable. A Dog got out of the driver’s side and held open the door for them, Rus scrambling in after Red and sat on the seat opposite. The door wasn’t even closed when Red began rummaging through a little fridge, pulling out a clear crystal bottle of dark brown liquid. “here, have a drink. think you might need it.”

The entire bottle was probably more accurate, but it was better than nothing. Rus took the glass wordlessly, swallowing it all down in one gulp. He couldn’t hold back a grimace; the sharp burn of expensive whisky tried to wash away the taste of burnt golden flowers clinging inside his mouth, but it still lingered in his nasal cavity and he wondered dully if he’d ever be able to smell them again without remembering this moment.

Across from him, Red slumped back against the leather seat, sockets closed, his own glass dangling loosely from his broad fingers. His browbones were drawn together, a line of weariness between them and Rus suddenly wondered how long they’d been looking for him. There were no clocks in the backseat and the sun coming in through the tinted windows revealed nothing. Blue was probably hysterical and Rus couldn’t blame him, his own stupidity got him into trouble again, and Edge—

He didn’t want to think about Edge, not right now.

His mind refused to be blank, kept flittering about and Rus latched on to one of the questions lingering inside his skull, pointless and perfect for this moment. He held his own glass in both hands, the cool crystal slowly warming between them. “why was blaze so interested in golden flower tea?”

“that’s need to know, kid.” Red didn’t open his sockets as he took a sip from his glass.

“yeah, well, i need to know,” Rus said stubbornly. “you used me as bait, so tell me. why was he willing to let everything go over some stupid flowers?”

Those closed sockets slit open, the barest gleam of crimson gazing out at him. “heh. you think i owe you somethin’, flower shop?” Rus said nothing, afraid of agreeing, and Red’s sharp grin widened. “learnin’ how to be careful of those debts, huh. good for you.” He shifted in his seat, loosening his tie as he sighed. “but you got a point. okay, flower shop, here's the deal. see, most monsters and humans get a little relaxed with it, s’all. probably a strong cup of chamomile’d have the same affect.”

“unless ya have lv. golden flower tea is pretty damn useful for monsters with lv.” That sharp smile twisted unpleasantly. “sweet thing like you don’t know what it’s like carryin’ around a lump of charcoal in your chest. feel it burnin’ ya from the inside out…”

For once, Red looked away from Rus first, stared pensively into the dark depths of his glass. “that tea helps, a fucking lot. only once we came to the surface it was hard to find. don’t grow easy around here, not without help.” Red tossed back the rest of his glass and poured another, whiskey slopping out around the lip, spattering the little bar. When he offered the bottle to Rus, he accepted it, pouring more into his own glass. “ain’t had any in ages. not ’til you turned up, flower shop, you and your brother.” He chuckled roughly and shook his head. “mother angel’s mercy, fuckin’ florists of all things.”

“i didn’t know,” Rus admitted, and now that he did, he wasn’t sure if he regretted asking.

Red shrugged. “that ain’t no surprise, you ain’t got any lv and your bro don’t have enough to make any difference.”

That idle statement made Rus jerk, spilling whiskey down the front of his shirt. “my brother has lv?” His voice seemed too small, confined in that backseat.

Red paused and a brief, bothered expression flitted across his face before it smoothed again. “like i said, not enough to make any difference.” He finished off the last of his glass, the silence filled with only the hum of the engine and the tires against the road. “anyway, that’s enough explanations for you. ya did me a favor helpin’ me get a lead on that old flame burnin’ up my ass. think i might owe ya a little extra for a rough time. so tell me, whaddya want?”

Outside the tinted windows, the real world blurred past them. The really real world, where the worst thing that ever happened was a rude barista might mess up your order or a Human might call an insult from the other side of the road, and Rus never hesitated. “i want to go home. i don’t belong in all this.”

“eh, that’s already on the table.” Red crushed out the stub of his current cigar and lit another, the burning smell from the match nearly making Rus heave. “what else you got?”

“that you leave my brother alone!”

Red exhaled a cloud of foul smoke and shook his head, “that’s ‘tween me and him. care for a third try before ya strike out?”

His empty glass thudded to the carpeted floor as Rus buried his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. He should let it go, drop the pretense of ever balancing the sheet between them. He’d be back home soon, back to the shop and the normalcy, nothing but bouquets and daydreams, oh, the daydreams. There was one thing yet that he wanted with self-destructive desperation, and the words came out barely muffled by his bony fingers, clear and stark. “i want one night, with him. with your brother. no strings attached.”

“you think i can get you that, huh? well, honey, you hit the jackpot.” Through his fingers, he could see Red’s eye lights glittering, the deep, burning crimson of a devil or maybe a djinn from the stories Blue read to him as a child. Looking at them sent a shiver down Rus’s spine like a sin even as Red spoke, his voice rough and amused as he offered a single word.

“done.”

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underfell grillby #mafia au

[idabbleincrazy]

I’ve Been Thinkin’

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: E

Pairing: Splindsey, implied Spangel, hints of future Splingel

Word Count: 651

Warnings: language, grinding, teasing, Spike being the sexy asshole we know and love, subby Lindsey, Lindsey’s epic vampire kink

Summary: Spike has a revelation about Lindsey’s motives 

A/N: i was trying to write something a world away from this, but Soul Purpose started and the strip club scene gave me some naughty ideas. hope you like. and maybe someday i’ll write a Splingel fic so the Tiny Texan can have his dreams come true...

“Thought I wasn’t your type?” Lindsey grunted out as Spike pushed him against the wall, memories of their first meeting flashing through his mind at the familiarity of the action. “Isn’t that what you told me when I tried to buy you a drink?”

“That was when I thought you were lookin' to pick up some easy slag who'd bend over for ya out in the alley." 

Spike leaned into the curve of Lindsey's neck and inhaled, smirking at the heady scent of the human’s arousal. Lindsey shuddered as Spike's lips ghosted over his skin, his voice shaky when he finally spoke again. 

"A-and now?"

"Now I see I got it all wrong, Doyle."

Lindsey swallowed hard at the use of his false name, fear flavoring his scent as the image of a pair of fangs piercing his exposed throat flashed through his mind. 

"Shit, look if this is about-"

"Oh, save it." Spike pushed closer against Lindsey and licked a long stripe up the side of his neck, nipping lightly at the skin with blunt teeth and chuckling darkly at the shiver that ran through him. “‘M not here to discuss your subterfuge, not as such, anyway. Not here to kick the living shite out of you; though I probably should."

Lindsey gasped and squirmed under Spike’s ministrations, his hardening cock twitching within the confines of his jeans. 

“Then what, man? What did you come here for, if not for revenge?”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge on you ‘fore the night’s out, believe me; just of a differently physical sort than you might have figured on.” Spike thrust his hips forward, his growing erection brushing over Lindsey’s and pulling a groan from the Texan’s lips. “Turned you away before ‘cause I thought you wanted to fuck me. Only ever been one bloke that gets that privilege, and you certainly ain’t him. But I was wrong, weren’t I? Checkin’ in on me, even when you didn’t have some heroics to send me out on. Always turning that same bloody song on every time you came over, hell, makin’ sure to leave the album at the apartment in the first place, I really shoulda seen it sooner. You don’t want to fuck me...oh, no, hard as you are right now, me pinning you to the wall like this; all along, you just wanted me to fuck you. Ain’t that right, Lindsey?”

Lindsey screwed his eyes shut, wanting desperately to be able to deny it, to deny all of it. But with Spike grinding tortuously slowly against him, that thick cock clearly defined within his too-tight jeans, pressing into him and rubbing against his own aching length...he couldn’t help but nod pathetically, couldn’t not admit how badly he’d wanted exactly that since the moment he saw Spike’s picture in Wolfram & Harts files on Angel’s family. He had dreamt of the blonde currently pressing against him almost as often as he’d dreamt of Angel; hell, he’d even dreamt of them taking him together on more than one occasion, waking up to sheets soaked with sweat and cum as he cried out their names. 

“Tell me, Lindsey. Tell me what you really want.”

“Want…I want you to fuck me, Spike.” Lindsey’s candor was rewarded with the feeling of Spike’s teeth tugging at his earlobe, and the zing of pleasure that coursed down his spine at the touch cleared away any final shred of reluctance to admit the thoughts he had way too often to consider just a passing curiosity. “Wanna feel your cock, in me, splitting me open. Shit, Spike, I want you to make me feel you for days. Fuck me, just fuck me.” 

“Hmm.” Spike turned Lindsey around to face the wall, leaning in and trailing his nose along the curve of his jaw, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, Angel was right about you, Linds. You are gonna make such a pretty pet.”

#splindsey #lemon #spike/lindsey #spike #lindsey #spangel and splingel by association