#1abyrinths

@1abyrinths gets a random starter from james to leon !

"Un po' di respiro." Words were muttered more so to himself than the other before he sighed, "How about this then. Have you considered that maybe... I'm being just as tight lipped as you've been with me?" Lips pursed and wide shoulders shrugged with a cant of his head. "You don't owe me anything. That's fine. But I don't owe you anything either, Kennedy. So— can we play nice enough to get through this?"

                                                               @1abyrinths

There was a reputation that came with the title of The Butcher. One, that try as he might, he could never seem to shake. Even after he’d served his sentence, even after his near death- still there were others that would shame him for his past. Despite the truth he uncovered, despite the sacrifice he made, it seemed some could never look past the scars he wore, evidence of who he truly was. A monster to some, a killer to others, one who belonged at the bottom of the sea to them all. There would always be those who despised him- despised them, for trying to find peace after the chaos he’d endured. 

It wasn’t the first time someone made a passing comment, usually scoffing in their direction, comments that would leave a bitter taste- but none worse for wear. Never had she heard such vitriol, threatening words, so laced with venom as they simply tried to exist. To think, it was meant to be a date between the two of them, a few drinks at a hole in the wall, time for just the two of them to relax and unwind. Yet nothing could ever be so simple, for the moment they’d try to find peace, it seemed there was always something, someone, that would try to ruin their fun. 

It was a rare side of him to see, one that he tried to hide, or perhaps lay dormant, waiting for a memento strike. How it happened in an instant, one moment she was laughing- and the next a hand was on her shoulder. The words almost came too quickly for her to process, strangers barking questions on either side of her, the demand for answers she had no reason to give. Why was he there, why was she with him, wouldn’t she know better than to spend time with a criminal- the grip of strangers hand was enough to leave her recoiling- and he in turn stepped in to ensure it wouldn’t happen again.

Time seemed to slow in that moment, like watching an attack dog bare its teeth and bite. The sound of his knuckles would connect to an unexpecting jaw, a cracking that only she could assume was the sound of something breaking on the receiving end. It was a brief, yet fruitless fight, watching just how quickly The Butcher became a reality before her very eyes. Those around him didn’t stand a chance, watching bloody knuckles fly, and bodies quickly fall to the floor before she could bring herself to react. Violent, brutal, and in truth, nothing she’d witnessed before. The sight alone left her frozen in place, knowing she was responsible for this happening in the first place. If she wouldn’t have asked for a date, if they wouldn’t have come here- if- if- 

Her hands trembled at her sides, that fear that gripped her starting to subside, seeing the aftermath of his rage. He did this for her, to keep her safe, bloodied his hands time and time again when he didn’t need to- and shouldn’t have to. It was her fault. Now here he was, living up to the name he tried so hard to move past. Her throat felt tight, that hint of tears brimming her eyes as she’d instinctively reach for him, hands cupping his face as she’d choke out his name. 

“Simon-” Nothing more was said, nothing needed to be said, finding her place in his arms as he closed the space between them. Her guilt was tangible, tears slipping down her face as his lips would meet her own soon after. The taste of copper lingered on his tongue, that familiar scent of blood mixed with sweat invading her senses. He didn’t deserve this- he never did- and still he somehow endured for her. “I’m so sorry-” the words fell between each gentle embrace, her fingers tangling in his hair, whispering her apologies between each tender kiss. "-I'm so sorry."

                                                               @1abyrinths

To think it was a question that even crossed his mind, to hold such a tone of disbelief. As if the concept was too hard to grasp, as if such kindness offered had to come with a price. Like a stray dog, kicked too many times, never once granted kindness or a gentle touch- all he knew was violence. To bare his teeth and bite any hand that tried to feed him seemingly second nature, but how could she blame him, given what bits and pieces she knew of his past. A killer, a butcher, a man who deserved such punishment- that’s what they’d told her at least. Yet sitting before her, all she could see was a man, a man who needed help. 

It was a miracle he was alive at all, to have made it to the surface after spending so long below. It was clear that time had taken its toll, blood from below having left its mark upon his skin. Cuts and bruises and the like- which is why she was summoned to help. She’d never seen him up close, only hearing him through the hollow echo of the hull, and brief conversation through radio. Only ever catching glimpses of the other through blood stained glass, never having seen him so clearly until now. 

“-Because you needed it.” The words were spoken simply, softly, as she’d tend to the cut on his brow. Cleansing the area, preparing it for stitches, yet her touch remained gentle through it all. Hands would guide his chin to lift, giving her a better angle as needle and thread would begin their work through flesh. “Despite what everyone might think of you, I refuse to hold judgement until I actually get to know someone. And I know we haven’t spent much time together… but whatever you experienced down there, well, no one should have to go through that.” It was a miracle he made it out at all, overhearing others place bets on how long he’d last, if he’d live to see the surface again. Why, if no one else believed in him- she did. 

“What I’m saying is, I’m glad you’re alive. I was worried about you… and contrary to what most might say around here, I believe each life is valuable. Your life is just as important as anyone else on this crew…” Her brow would knit at the notion, ready to defend him without hesitation. Still, her hands continued their work, each loop through flesh helping close the wound, wiping away the blood as she went. “Am I being too rough..?”

                                                               @1abyrinths

The space was secluded, tucked far enough back in the trees that no soul in their right mind would come looking for them. Truth be told, not even the gang would likely find them even if they tried. It started off as a simple request- scout around- find homesteads that might be easy enough to sneak into. Robbing, looting, it was something that’d grown to be a specialty of his in his time within the gang, and why it was he above all others that was sent out, time and time again. Not that he minded it, in fact, sometimes privacy was needed. A break from the group. The bickering, the fighting- but there was the rare occasion that company was preferred over isolation. Mainly it was him. His one exception.

This gave them an excuse for time spent together. No eyes or ears to suspect a thing, no need to rush something good. A makeshift tent was all the two needed for the night, hardly strung up beside an isolated pond. To him, it was enough, to allow himself a moment to be greedy, taking all his time and attention from the others. It seemed even John longed for solace, a desire that seemed to be lingering in the back of his mind. He could tell by his touch, the way his body moved with purpose, taking no time to invade his space, slotting himself perfectly between his open legs. 

It was an act of trust, to expose himself to another in this way. How often he hid that part of himself away, his neck a reminder of just how close he’d come to death all those years ago. The jagged scar was not one he revealed to anyone- his partner being one of the only few he’d give such space to. No doubt the fluttering of his pulse could be felt against his lips, fingers in turn tangling into long, dark locks in response. He’d grown accustomed to keeping quiet, their love so often brief and fleeting, he’d learned to keep hush for them both. But it was clear this time was different- that John wanted to hear his pleasure. His hips would shift to meet his own, greedily rocking as thighs would squeeze against his waist. The more he moved, the more responsive the wolf of a man became- once tender kisses growing in passion, until a sudden flash of canines would playfully meet his skin, his grip tightening in response. 

“John-” How his tone felt almost cautionary- as if warning him what might happen if he’d continue. Yet he seemed to have no intention of stopping, feeling his lips only continue their path down the curve of his neck. His free hand would slip between them, tugging loose the buttons of his shirt, giving the man free range to continue. “Been waiting for a moment alone like this- guess it’s safe to say you were too…” A breathy little laugh would escape him, while hands would boldly shift further down the space between them, finding the weight of his lover's belt buckle, and giving it a playful tug to loosen where it sat. “How about we take our time with this job… make sure it’s done right…” As if it wasn’t the last thing on his mind- but he’d make excuses where they were needed, preparing for whatever scolding might await them, once they’d return to camp. 

                                                                 @1abyrinths

It was an unexpected gesture, simple, yet it meant more to her than he would ever know. To be needed was one thing, to be wanted another. It was something, in truth, that she was still getting used to. To think, when they’d met, it was a constant push and pull with him. How obvious that inner turmoil would lay evident upon his expression, lost in hazel hues and a pinched brow. Endearing, in his own way. What she wouldn’t give for just a moment in his mind, know what exactly played behind those fleeting eyes. Was she really such a curse to look at? Was the memory of her still so strong? What quirks did she have of Mary’s that were unknown even to her? Secrets she’d never truly know. 

But how she wouldn’t take such a moment for granted. Painted lips upturning in the softest smile, a gentle, yet eager nod giving response. He wasn’t asking for much, fresh air through the garden, along the docks. A moment of respite amongst the chaos- how she couldn’t help but want the same. “It wouldn't hurt to take a break, stop and smell the roses, as they say…” Her hand would find his, her delicate fingers intertwining with his own. “Nothing wrong with a little lover’s hideaway, no eyes or ears. I’m almost certain that spot keeps the monsters away… maybe they know it’s sacred, or maybe they’re just being kind for our sake.” A soft hum would pass through her lips at the notion, leading the way with a confident stride. “What I wouldn't give for a little sunshine... maybe one day we can go to a real beach. Somewhere less cold and lonely- make a little place of our own, far away from here..." A girl could dream, and only hope he'd feel the same.

maybe   it's   due   to     the old feelings he still     has,      maybe it's the rush of     emotions,     high on     adrenaline     of knowing both of their teams could find them at any moment     &.     try     &.     kill the other.     shit,     maybe it's just his own body going     haywire.     pushing the younger man up against the wall,      guns long forgotten about,      emre is solely     focused     on cassidy.      he can't hear the voices anymore,      that presence in the back of his head     fading     as he leans in to     lessen     the distance between them.      mere centimeters apart,     all but expecting to finally be able to     kiss     him,     they're interrupted.     hearing footsteps     &.     someone rounding the corner,      catching     them red-handed.

cursing beneath his breath     &.     immediately pulling away,     he can't help the     flush     of colour to his cheeks,      taking hurried steps back     &.     away from cassidy.     just because emre's an ex-overwatch agent    doesn't mean the others     wouldn't     attack him     ⸻     the quicker he could get out of there,     the     better     for everyone     (     he'd  rather  let  the  others  deal  with  attacking  them.     )     eyes flick to look at the other man,     lips     sheepily     pulling up into a smile as he     winks     at cassidy.     ❛     sucks  we  had  to  cut  this  short,     maybe  some     other     time,     yeah     ?     ❜     without waiting for the other to respond,     emre turns on his heels     &.     makes a     dash     for it,      quickly fleeing the scene     &.     leaving cassidy     &.     his fellow teammates behind before he can get     shot     at.

@1abyrinths   liked   for  a   lyric   starter          ⸻          from   steve,     for   eddie.