#j23r23

With your face buried in the mattress, you mutter your safeword, your voice barely audible - the slight force of his hand on the back of your head muffling your words. Your choked-out sobs go unnoticed, the sound much like those he pulls from you usually.

You say the word again, slightly louder this time. "Red," you murmur, your tears wetting the sheet. "Red."

Though he doesn't hear you, the sound of his cock fucking into the messy state of your cunt overlapping your non-blissed cries.

"Red, red, red, red," you ramble, voice wavering. "Red."

The second he hears the first 'red', he's dragging his cock from you, a warm hand resting on the middle of your back. "I didn't hear you. I'm so sorry," he pants, catching his breath. "Fuck— I'm sorry, love. You okay?" he continues, moving to sit beside you - his hand running up your spine, making you roll over to face him. "Was I hurtin' you?" he asks, thumbing away the wet under your eyes.

You don't reply. You only sit, scooching to lean into Tan's shoulder as you wipe away the residual tears.

He wraps an arm around the middle of your back, pulling you into his side at an angle. "Got carried away," he shakes his head, voice and face filled with guilt and shame. "Real sorry, darlin'."

You slip your hand into his and hold it to your chest, your other hand wrapping around his forearm, hugging it. "It's not your fault," you whisper, pressing a kiss into the back of his hand. "I'm just... I'm just too tired. You didn't do anything wrong," you try to comfort. 

You knew his brain was blowing this out of proportion, so you wanted to reassure him, even though you technically needed it more. You sit in comfortable silence, quietly consoling each other - his hand stroking up your back, your lips pressed into his other. The side of your head resting on his shoulder, his atop of yours.

“I’ll run us a bath when you’re ready.”

"Don't daddy look pretty," Lemon teases, crouching beside the coffee table to get closer to Mandy. "He'd make a pretty girl, won't he?"

"No," she shakes her head, shoving her finger into Tan's moustache. "He has a hairy face."

You resist the temptation to laugh, instead leaning closer, resting your elbow on your knee to cover your mouth. 

Lemon snickers before continuing, watching the displeased expression grow on his brother's face. "That's right. You should shave it off, Mands. Make him all pretty looking."

Your eyes widen. "No, no, absolutely not. We're not doing that."

"Boo, mummy. Mandy boo her," Lemon eggs your daughter on, lovingly brushing over her face.

"Why can't we shave him, mama?" Mandy asks, turning around to look at you, her face sweet and innocent. 

"It makes him look pretty. You know how it doesn't make him a pretty girl? Well, it's the same thing. He's not a pretty boy without it," you tease, looking over at Tan. Your words are harsh, but nothing like the soft, loving expression on your face. 

"Do I not get a say?" Tangerine adds, looking between you all with lightly furrowed brows. 

"No. You're a mannequin. Mannequins can't talk," Lemon pipes in, immediately dismissing his twin. "How about some make-up instead, Mand? That'll make him pretty."

"Yeah," she smiles, her grin wide and genuine. "Mama has some," she adds, climbing off the coffee table. 

"What a great idea," Lemon encourages, standing up to follow after his niece.

You look over to Tan, noticing the 'help me' face he is giving you - silently asking you to stop it.

"I think daddy's had enough for now, no? He looks so pretty, and you did such a good job," you pick your daughter up, placing her on your lap - kissing her cheek. 

"Mands," Tangerine calls, dragging out her name. "I just had the best idea," he looks between you and Lem knowingly, a small smile forming. "We should give Uncle Lem a makeover, too. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

She gasps, her face lit up in excitement, grinning as she climbs off your lap. Tangerine stands, following his daughter. 

"I'll help you, poppet. We'll get all your mum's make-up, yeah?" he chuckles, hitting his brother on the way out. "He's gonna look so pretty when we're done."

"So proud of you," he says, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," you smile. "Thank you for looking after her."

“It's really no… problem,” he goes quiet, watching his brother and new baby niece enter the room. "Oh my god, she's tiny," he whispers, looking between you and Tan, his eyes widening - his expression full of admiration.

"She is," Tangerine whispers in response, too afraid of scaring her. "She's beautiful."

He walks closer, joining the rest of his family around you on the bed. He takes a seat at the edge, sitting beside your knees and his daughter - his new baby one cradled in his arms. 

"Can I see her?" Mandy asks, perching higher to get a better look. 

Tangerine nods, tilting the newborn slightly. "Yeah, but no touching just yet. You probably have sticky hands," he scolds lovingly, playfully narrowing his eyes. "Bet you've had lots of sweets with Lem, hm?"

"Do you want to hold her?" you ask, looking at Lemon, watching the trance-like focus he has on your new baby. 

He looks between you and Tan for confirmation, the pair of you nodding with a soft smile. Tangerine stands and extends his arms towards his brother, placing his new niece in his loving hold.

"Oh my god," he whispers, his voice almost fragile. "She's beautiful."

Tangerine pats his twin's back before moving to stand by your side, his hand reaching for yours.

"What's her name?" he finally asks, his gaze concentrated on the little girl.

You and Tan turn to look at each other, your eyes knowing as you silently agree on the name you've spoken about.

"We named her after her uncle," you say softly, grip tightening in your lover's hand. "Mel... just like Lem," you smile, watching his eyes almost swell. 

"No," he shakes his head, tone like that of disbelief. "No, you didn't."

Tangerine nods, his features tight like he's trying to pull himself together. 

Lemon looks down at her, his bottom lip wobbling. "Welcome to the family, little Mel." 

Tangerine was en route home from the pub after hanging out with his brother, almost two hours late to the dinner you had spent all afternoon preparing. And when you see the taxi pull up out front, Tangerine stumbling and slurring as he gets out of the car, you knew there and then nothing would get resolved tonight.

You walk over to the front door, pulling it open as he approaches.

"Screw you," you say softly, defeat and disappointment evident in your voice.

He inhales, shrugging as he drunkenly kicks off his shoes. "You said seven."

"I did. I said to be back for seven," you confirm, eyes narrowing in on Tan. "That was two fucking hours ago."

"Yeah, well," he murmurs, pushing past you and towards the sofas.

"Not even a sorry?" you follow after him. "We agreed on dinner. We said we'd talk," you remind him, voice growing louder.

"Don't shout at me, head's fucking spinning."

You scoff, the noise frustrated and unamused. "Are you kidding?"

He brings his hand to his face, his palm brushing down the bottom half of it. "Talk about it tomorrow. Can't be fucked tonight."

"That's what we always say. Now look at us," you gesture between the two of you. "This sucks—"

"Seriously," he warns, interrupting you. "I cannot be doing this tonight."

You ignore him, talking over as you finish your thought. "—and I hate it. We make each other miserable and... I can't and don't want to do this anymore."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his spread knees. "What? That's it?" he straightens his neck to look at you. "Three years down the fucking shitter?"

You still, diverting from his stern eyes.

"Yes? No?" he prods for an answer, making you look back at him. "Hm?"

"We're not happy," you start, voice tired. "There's nothing here— there's no love. There's nothing left."

"No love?" he repeats.

"No," you squint at him. "You don't love me anymore."

He nods in defeat, the motion so gentle you could almost miss it. "Do you?" he pauses. "Do you still love me?"

You shake your head, and like Tan's, the movement is faint.

"Brilliant," he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

You inhale raggedly, trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him. "While you were out, I uh... I arranged somewhere for me to stay. I'll come back in a couple of days to pick up the rest of my stuff," you say, false confidence in your voice.

He doesn't look up, instead keeping his face in his hands - elbows still resting on his knees.

Nothing else gets said, so you head into the hallway, picking up the bags you had packed earlier. You carefully close the door behind you and make your way towards your car - loading things in the back as you finally allow yourself a brief moment to be upset.

And as you reach for the driver's seat handle, you take a final look at the house, now seeing Tangerine standing in the frame of the front door.

You return his nod with a soft one of your own and get into your seat. Turning on your ignition, you roll down the drive - making your way to your staying arrangement.

You just had to see him again in a few days, and then that's it. It'll all be over.