#I’ve had this in my drafts for like two weeks was trying to gather my thoughts on the last part of it

[mischiefbuckley]

“People who love each other are always connected by an invisible string made of love” Carla reads to Christopher through a video call as him and Eddie are cuddled up in his bed and she continues reading to them as the scene pans back to Christopher and Eddie as they are both now asleep and Carla continues reading, “As they slept, they started dreaming of all the invisible strings they had, and all the strings their friends have, and their friends have, until everyone in the world was connected by invisible strings.”

We learn in “Eddie Begins” that Eddie had offers from both Chicago and LA, but he ultimately decided to go to LA and join the LAFD and again with getting offers from station 6 and station 118 and he goes with station 118. Again this has a lot to do with what Eddie thought was best, but we can only assume again he most likely chose LA since he already had family there and wanted a support system as he didn’t want to be around his parents, but still wanted to be around family as he continues to raise Christopher as a single father and now navigating starting a probationary year as a firefighter in a new city

Okay back to the episode like right at the end of the episode we finally get revealed who Buck has been talking to this entire time, which he started seeing Dr. Copeland for personal reasons and the line that’s most interesting about this now with the knowledge that they were suppose to make Buddie canon in season 4, but Fox shut it down is “Hey Dr. Copeland. I’m going good. I’ve actually been — been thinking a lot about what you said in our last session and how I hide my true feelings from others. I’m starting to think you might be right.”

I think again with having this mention of invisible stings connecting people together it really is amazing how intertwined Buck and Eddie are even from the beginning like yes Buck didn’t like Eddie for one millisecond, but pulling a grenade out of a leg in the back of an ambulance had them saying they have each others backs and when then as we progress through season 2 and learn that Eddie is a single father, Buck inserts himself in and helps Eddie out like reaching out to Carla and making sure Eddie got the help he needed for Christopher and even with him going out with them to see Santa and taking Christopher to the zoo and the whole pier day prior to the tsunami, we see Buck and Eddie become a little family unit and always being there for one another no matter what and then we get the lawsuit and it all goes to shit for one episode, but again back on track with them being there for each other and always just being present for one another as work partners and as partners outside of work

And even now with the background knowledge with watching season 4 in a different lense and specifically the shooting arc like again having Buck be all confused about his feelings towards Abby right at the end of season 3 when he sees her at the train derailment call and he sees her again to meet up and try to get some closer, but he ultimately doesn’t get the answers he wants and he continues to feel this constant abandonment from people that claim to love him, but again leave him at the end, so he decides to go to therapy.

When doing therapy now as a personal choice and not something being required by the department or anything connected to the department, Buck starts sharing everything from the past few years and I’m assuming he keeps mentioning Eddie this and Eddie that and Eddie’s son Christopher and how integral he is with the Diaz family and Dr. Copeland most likely probably makes him put two and two together and realize what his true feelings are for Eddie, but he doesn’t want to destroy that relationship he has in his life, so when the shooting occurs Buck is at a lost for words and again with not sharing how he honestly feels towards Eddie and he doesn’t even know what’s going to happen to Eddie

We see Buck go under the fire engine after he had been injured by a fire engine and suffered a pulmonary embolism and blood clots and he almost lost his leg to the fire engine go ahead and he went underneath an engine that had caused him so much damage to pull Eddie from the street where he is bleeding out and picks him up and carries him and picks him up and he gets him into the 133 engine as Captain Mehta calls out that Firefighter Diaz has been shot to dispatch. We see Buck push the paramedic out of the way and he takes care of Eddie and keeps telling Eddie to “stay with me” as they are on way to the hospital. Again you see Buck all confused and trying to keep it together as best as he can as he sees his best friend bleeding out and as he has his blood splattered all over him and Eddie seeing this as he is aware of his surroundings now that he is inside of the fire engine he asks Buck, “Are you okay?” like this man is bleeding out and has a bullet in his chest and he is still as concerned and worried about Buck as much as Buck is worried about him in that moment. When one of them is injured on a call they are always there for each other and worried sick about the other until they finally reach the hospital. When Buck had the fire engine pinning his leg down, we have Eddie holding his hand as he screams out in pain over his leg, when we have Eddie trapped after the well collapsed we have Buck clawing his way through wet mud to try and reach out for him, in the fire at the hand sanitizer factory, Eddie is the first one to reach Buck after he had been trapped and had fire surrounding him on all sides, and the shooting we have Buck taking control of the situation as he is covered in his best friend’s blood and is trying to keep it together while they get him to the hospital as quickly as they can and he literally pushes the paramedic out of the way so he can help him out because he can’t just stand back and watch anyone else help out Eddie because he blames himself for Eddie getting shot and we see this guilty eat at him throughout the following episode up until Eddie wakes up in the hospital and does his own confession of love in a way of saying that he trusts and loves Buck so much that he put him in his will to look after his son if something ever happened to Eddie, like Eddie really contacted his lawyer to change his will to make sure Buck was in it

Like it’s the fact that Buck had to taste his best friend’s blood before anything else and even when they finally get him to the hospital he needs to go and share the news with Christopher. We see him have his breakdown as he is telling Christopher that Eddie won’t be home and we see the moment where Buck breaks down and starts crying while Christopher hugs him and it’s a very sweet and emotional moment for both of them as Christopher is trying to be there for Buck and Buck is being there for Christopher, but they both don’t know how Eddie will turn out since he was rushed into surgery and even we see as him and Taylor have an argument in his apartment and he doesn’t run after her, but as soon as he gets the phone call from Ana saying that Eddie’s awake like immediately after Taylor leaves his apartment he rushes over to the hospital and again proving time and time again that his main priority and the most important person in his life will always be Eddie and Eddie one ups Buck in that sense by proving to him and committing to him that he will always be an important person not only to him, but to his son as well by going out of his way to contact his lawyer and having him put Buck in the will. And even Buck mentions to him that didn’t he need his permission and Eddie says that his lawyer had told him that Buck could refuse, and Buck is immediately like along the lines of you know I wouldn’t again drawing to the fact that they are and will always be important to each other no matter what. And again he draws attention to Buck and makes him realize that he should not be saying negative things and saying that he should have been shot with the simple “Evan” because again we know that Buck doesn’t like being called Evan it reminds him of his parents and the way he was raised, but this was an important conversation they were having so to call Buck’s attention and make him realize how important the conversation they were going to have is he calls him Evan

[abellyfulloffriends]

Evergreen

I’ve had this story in my drafts for months and forgot it existed so I finally decided to post it somewhere.

Story contains: Soft, Safe, Nonfatal and Nonsexual Vore. Willing/Unwilling Vore. G/T Vore. Borrower Siblings, Human third party. ANGST SO MUCH ANGST. Hurt/Comfort. Switching perspectives. Also typos.

Jericho

Cold temperatures were lower than I ever expected this early. We’ve had a few too many nights where it falls below freezing, and it’s not even November. With such a low yield, My sister, Chloe, and I won’t be able to stay and shelter in place again. We barely made it by last year, and spent the spring recovering after she got sick. The two of us were bringing back what little we could find today, over the last week we picked the forest clean. Every berry picked, and every tree nut gathered. We even took the bitter weeds.

“This isn’t going to be enough. We wouldn't last even a month on this.” Chloe worries. She worries a lot. I offer to carry her satchel. She hands it over to me and wraps her tail around her body. “I’m cold Jericho…”

I don’t let her words get to me, if I stop to panic, neither of us will get through the winter. We trudge through the damp leaf litter. The wind whistles through the trees, and it is freezing across my bare face. Chloe huffs and runs ahead, bracing against the wind and pushing her body underneath a marked tree stump. She lifts a wooden door built into the side and I usher myself inside.

Chloe lays down on her side on the raised bed of evergreen needles. I set down our haul and began to get a fire going, striking for sparks. “Can you look through and see what needs to be eaten first? You should eat.” Chloe reaches over and silently opens her satchel first, flinching her hand back as she reaches in. “You okay?” I take notice of the splinters in her fingers. She carefully puts her hand back in and pulls out a clutch of acorns. “Here. These will go bad soon.”

I put down the flint and reach over for her hand, softly holding her wrist. “Hey, you okay?”

She sets down the acorns next to the firewood. “Just… scared.” She relents. “I’m worried about us, making it through the winter.” She sighs. “Thanks for asking, honestly, I’m also sore, these acorns are huge, and it's hard to haul them like this.” Chloe was right, being only six inches tall makes it hard to carry anything that wasn’t nearly microscopic.

I crack open an acorn, splitting it between the two of us. “I think we should try to propagate the dandelions during winter, in order to keep food stocks up.”

Chloe smiles, then frowns. “I wish it were that simple, but the soil is so dry and dead nothing grows, even weeds, sure they can handle the cold, but with the temperature not changing they won’t get water.” She slowly reaches for my hand, “Actually, I wanted to ask you about my plan.” I morph my face quizzically.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

She nods, “Thank you. Well, back in summer, I spent a lot of time on my own, and met some other borrowers. I want to try something they suggested. We should borrow from a human. I know you don’t like the idea, but it’s getting desperate.”

I crush another acorn under my foot. “That’s suicide.” I say flatly. “Humans eat borrowers like us, as do their pets. We’re nothing but prey to them.”

Chloe sighs under her breath, “I knew you’d act like this, but I can’t say I agree this time. I heard stories, Jericho. Stories about-”

“Stories. I heard stories too, and I’ve seen it too, you’ll get yourself killed.” I interject.

“It’s not that simple!” She raises her voice. “We will starve to death if we stay, I know you hate humans, you never made that a secret, but I have a plan. I won’t stay long, they don’t even have to know I’m there. I’ll get some supplies and drop them off by the river.” Chloe starts to shake, “I won’t be gone long, and I won’t overstay my welcome.”

I hang my head, “You better come back.”

Chloe looks at me, “Does that mean?”

“Yes. Go. But please be careful Chloe, and don’t get noticed.”

She quickly begins to gather a few things. I know I can’t argue with her, she’s always been headstrong, and as stubborn as me. She really does share my blood. “Here, take this too.” I hand her my gathering blade. “Just in case.”

Chloe

Jericho warned me a few dozen more times before I left that night. I bundled myself up a bit further, and made sure to bring my favorite gear. Sneaking into the human’s home wasn’t the most difficult thing, I managed to pick the lock on the window, a trick I learned last summer, with Jericho’s blade. My brother worries an awful lot for me, but I care more about making sure we get fed, then entertain his phobia. Humans can’t be all that bad, after two days of hiding out here, I haven’t been noticed, and I’ve collected enough food to last us the next month, a few more trips and by the end of week we would be set. I set out into the doorway near the kitchen.

The loud footsteps sound around the corner from across the room. I roll underneath a fallen article of clothing. I peak out as the human walks past. The size between us is difficult to describe. They tower over my hiding place, and reach down. The human grasps onto a plush cloth next to me. I cover my mouth, making sure not to give myself away. “Perfect, this will go perfectly with that cute top!” Mercifully, the human seems preoccupied. Soon enough they leave, giving me an opportunity to dash. Using my climbing gear, built out of scrap and threaded twine, the same gear my brother and I use to scale large trees, I hop up onto the lowest drawer of the cabinet, then looping the gear around the next handle, off the floor and into the drawer. I heard the sound of footsteps again, I quickly shut the drawer on myself and held my breath. Muffled through the wood I hear their voice again, “Mmm, Chocolate!” The carefree voice and lilt make me chuckle a bit, before I suddenly cup my mouth. I have to focus.

Soon, it’s nothing but silence. I push out against the drawer, but it doesn’t budge. The climbing gear is wedged between the lip of the drawer and the sliding railing. I wrap the rope of the gear around my wrist, and pull on it with my other hand, I extend the body weight and I feel a give. I pull it with my all, until the rope snaps. The force launches me backward, knocking me out.

As I open my eyes, the back of my head aches. And I can see light pouring from the slit in the drawer. I stumble forward to reach out for it, bumping my head on the top drawer. I cry out in pain, holding my head and falling over. Taking a second to breathe, I noticed a spot of dried blood on my forehead. I attempt to regain my composure. I push the pain back in my head and peek out of the drawer. I’m met with a strange sight, and blinding lights. Straining my vision, I make out the form of my satchel. Sitting on the floor, along with a gathering of small snacks. The lights seem to dim as I get closer, then it gets dark, looking up, the horror sets in as the human locks eyes with me. My body freezes.

“Hi there, little borrower.” Their voices sing. “You look hurt, do you need something for your head?” My voice is gone, I don’t know what to do. What would Jericho do? “Can you speak? Or at least understand me?” The human takes a step closer, holding something in their hand. “Here, have some chocolate!” The same tone from earlier. I get a sudden warmth in my chest, and before I know it, I’m holding out my hands. They place a small piece in my hands. “Oh! Where are my manners, I’m Brianna.”

I take a small nip of the chocolate. It’s sweet and incredibly rich. The rush of flavor forces me to smile. “C-Chloe…”

Brianna chuckles. “Chloe? That was your name? I love it!” The girl's cheerful demeanor invites me in. “So Chloe, what brings you here? I’m guessing you’re borrowing from me.” I don’t respond, and hesitate to move. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind at all, little one. I’m assuming you’re hungry then?”

“Please… Don’t hurt me…”

The human holds her hands to her chest, and kneels down slowly. “I won’t. You’re safe here, little one. There have been borrowers around here before, I’m more than happy to accommodate. May I pick you up?”

I shove the last bit of chocolate in my mouth and slowly nod, “Just… don’t eat me…” Brianna offers her hand to me and I tentatively place my knees down on her fingers. I expect her to suddenly grab me, but she remains steady. She hands me my satchel, and lifts me up to the countertop. I’m set down gingerly. The girl takes a single finger and strokes my hair. “You remind me of my dolls, uh, no offense of course.” She hands me a cloth, “Use this for your head, and rest your eyes. I’m going to make some soup for us.”

“Soup?” I inquire.

“Yes,” She snickers, “Because anything else would be hard to portion for you, soup is easy and quick and warm. And I suck at cooking, so I can’t mess it up either.”

Brianna and I exchange stories as the soup cooks. I tell her my favorite forest games as a kid, she describes the disasters she made in the kitchen. I slowly ease into telling this human my situation, confiding that my brother and I need help.

“Oh my sweet dear, that's terrible!” She tears her eyes off the stove. “Why didn't you tell me that before, I would be more than happy to take you both in for the winter.” Lightning surges in my chest.

“Wait… Really?” I’m incredulous. “You’d actually do that for two random strangers?”

Brianna doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Sure! After what you told me about how sick you got and how hard last winter was, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I knew I could have made a difference for you. Please extend my word to your brother, I’m sure you can win him over.” Brianna grabs a bowl for herself and a small saucer for me, and pour warm soup into our dishes. “Enjoy, Chloe. I bet you haven’t had a warm meal like this in forever. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.”

I take a sip of the soup, notes of celery and chicken dance on the taste buds. “Aww thanks, I will definitely tell him.” I drink more of the soup with fervor. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Brianna smiles warmly as I wipe my mouth. We both share a good laugh.

Jericho

I crest the hill, the sounds of midafternoon crickets are nearly everywhere as I eye up the river. It’s been nearly a week now of borrowing. My heart relaxes as I spot my sister sitting on the grass. I sit down next to her and embrace her lightly. “Glad to see you made it out. I really don’t like this, but I have to admit it was great getting all this food for the winter.” She sighs.

“I told you. I got this, I’m not in any danger.” Chloe stands. “Come on, let's go home, I can’t wait to go back for another haul tomorrow.” Her smile was infectious.

Yet I can’t help but wonder if she’s suddenly an adrenaline junkie, getting excited by risking her skin. “Aren’t you having a bit too much fun with this?” What are you not telling me, what happened between then and now? “Did anything happen while you were in there?”

Chloe looks me in the eye and stops walking. She groans, “Look, it’s not important right now, let's get home before dark.” Did she just dodge my question? “I’m okay, man, you don’t have to interrogate me.”

“I’m not!” I defend myself. “I’m worried! You’re in a house with a vicious monster, and I just want to know if you’re okay.” Sometimes it confuses me how she can be so casual around the subject of humans, doesn’t she know what they are?

“Vicious Monster? You don’t even know her.”

“...Her?...”

Chloe covers her mouth.

“What are you not telling me? Did the human notice you?”

“Her name is Brianna.” She sits under her breath.

Is she implying that she met the human? She couldn’t have, they would have killed her if she did. “Chloe, what are you saying?”

She shouts in frustration. “Fuck! Jericho, you are delusional!” I flinch. “All you’ve ever done is try to put this version of humans in my head that they’re some kind of rabid animal. Yet Brianna has treated me with more kindness and respect than you ever have!” Tears fill her eyes, all I can do is watch. “Furthermore, you always doubt my ability, yet all I’ve ever done for you is try to help you! Why are you like this?”

I raise my voice, “Because I can’t lose you too! I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help but be harsh because I want to survive! Being a borrower sucks, it’s a constant survival mission!”

“Then come with me! I forgive you, you're my brother, and no matter how much you hurt me, I still love you, because you are all I have.” She leans in to hug me. I don’t resist. “Even if you don’t trust the human, you can trust me. I only want what’s best for us, as a family.”

Tears are staining my eyes and I refuse to cry in front of her, I have to be strong. I don’t want her to see how much pain I’m in. “I- I can’t.” I hitch my breathing and force myself to calm. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chloe hugs me tighter. “You’ll come with me when you realize that I’m not the enemy. Brianna will be more than happy to help you understand how hurt you are, she already has helped me over the last few days. She’s the reason I’ve been happier. She can be trusted.”

I don’t respond.

Chloe

Brianna holds my small form in her hands and breathes softly, leaning back on her reclining chair. “How are you feeling? After that fight with your brother?” Her heartbeat is loud enough I can hear it just sitting on her torso.

“Better. I’m glad I came back here. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” I look up at her and smile, dropping it as I hang my head. “I just don’t know why he’s so freaking stubborn, is something I did wrong?” I just met this human, but I feel like I could tell her anything. “I know he’ll come around, I love my brother so much, and I know he’s hurting.”

Brianna gently holds me closer. “You’re doing the right thing.” She hums a soothing tune. “My sister is like this too. She went off to college and became super distant. I was so sad and angry that I didn’t know how to talk to her. But we eventually made up, I told her how I felt, and she admitted how hurt she was, so I find it reassuring that you see the same in your brother, you’re doing good, Chloe.”

I didn’t notice I started crying. “Thank you. Gosh.” The sobs of relief and validation tug at my heartstrings. “You barely know me, why are you so kind to me? And why do they always seem to understand?” What I don’t say is, ‘I knew my brother my whole life, and he was never this kind, at least, not after Mom died.’

“Simple, really. Kindness is easy for me, and grated I don’t struggle nearly as hard as you borrowers do. You fight for survival and have to prioritize that over the nuance of building a relationship. So in that, I understand your brother, you don’t have to be so hard on him. But I do understand how hurt you are by him.” Brianna slowly gets up, “Want to get some sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes please.”

After cleaning herself up for the night, Brianna sets me down on the bed, and rubs the back of her neck. “I don’t know how much you trust me, but I wanted to ask you something. And…” She nervously laughs. “...Don’t freak out on me, just hear me out?”

Oddly enough I don’t feel the need. “Sure, lay it on me!” I extend a cheery tone to help ease her anxiety. “I trust you, you’ve already proven you’re trustworthy a few times now.”

“So, I can control my… stomach. I can change my hormones so my stomach doesn’t digest.” I didn’t expect to hear that, but it intrigued me greatly. “And also, it will be the first snow tonight, and I don’t want you to be cold…” She takes a breath. “May I eat you, Chloe? You’d be safe, I promise.” She’s eager and awaits my response it seems.

I don’t really know how to respond to such a new concept. Surely she’s telling me the truth. If she wanted to hurt me surely she would have done so when I was knocked out earlier this week. She understands my brother’s hurt, and offered to help us through winter. If she wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t have done all this for me. “You know what? Go ahead! Sounds like fun honestly!” I don’t know what came over me, but the idea excited me somehow, surely it must be warm inside a person.

“Really? Are you sure, you don’t have to!”

“Really! I’ve never been eaten before!”

“...”

The room erupts with laughter. Brianna chirps with her joy, and I can’t believe I’m about to be eaten by a human, especially after my brother warned me, but after this week, why wouldn’t I?

Brianna lifts me to face, we’re eye level now. “I’m going to taste you for a bit before I swallow you, if you ever get uncomfortable or scared we can stop, I won’t hurt you.” She reassures me once more. I already trust her, and give her a verbal confirmation. With any further hesitation, Brianna opens her mouth, relieving pearl white teeth, and a big pink tongue. I feel something in my spine as I’m inched closer. It almost looks inviting, a big wet drooly mouth looks inviting. I laugh at the thought, reaching out one hand to feel her tongue. I immediately notice how warm it is, and how soft it feels under my hand. I wiggle off her hand and into her mouth, the warmth was more than enough to sell me on this idea. The soft muscle pulls me in quickly, and Brianna closes her lips around my waist. She hums at my flavor, presumably, pushing me gently against her palate, then the inside of her cheek, then tilts me to my throat.

I don’t have any protest, so I take a small breath in, feeling a bit of vertigo as my head slips into her throat, and she swallows, simultaneously throwing my legs in behind me. She closes her lips around me and swallows again, leaving just my tail out. The snug muscles of her throat pull me downward, toward her stomach, a small part of me comes to reality that I’m about to be put in the same place all food goes, and the only thing keeping me from becoming food is Brianna's word. But I don’t struggle, as much as this doesn’t make sense, it would make even less sense for her to betray me. I feel my tail get slurped up like a noodle with a muffle smack of Brianna’s lips, along with a small gulp.

Dropping into her stomach, I bounce a bit as I hit the bottom of the gastric chamber. “Are you okay, Chloe?” Her voice is basey and all around me. I take a moment to assess my condition.

Warm? Check.

Comfortable? Check.

Safe? Check.

“Fantastic!” I shout back, hoping my voice is loud enough to penetrate her internal flesh. “I’m safe and sound, thank you for keeping your promise!” I sink my body into the walls of her fleshy stomach, hearing the soft gurgles and groans of her digestive system moving about. I also catch on to her subtle heartbeat above me. This, I could get used to.

Jericho

I wanted to chase after her after she stormed back to that- Brianna’s place. Was Chloe right? Was I the enemy? Something didn’t feel right, so I decided to find her, and risk meeting this human she seems to know more about than I do. Unfortunately, I waited too long, and night had fallen. An owl had detected my presence. I refused to end up as an owl chow before I made amends with my sister. I stay under the brush of foliage of the forest floor, passing the river swifting by its thinnest shore, avoiding the open air for long.

The hills keep getting higher as I make the trek up the mountain side. Chloe told me the directions before she stormed off earlier tonight, and for that I’m lucky. I hide into hovels and peek out, the owl seems to have lost me. I see a light on the crest of the hill. Eyeing down a house on the edge of forest, just as she described. As I sneak closer I hear footsteps coming fast. I twist my body to view, seeing the dark form of a huge humanoid running at me, a feminine voice sounding to me, “OWL!”

The screech of the owl and its silhouette blocks out the moon, without thinking I dart toward the human, they reach down and grasp me in both hands. I can hear the fast patter of gravel shoes and the loud slam of the front door. The adrenaline and static take a while to clear from my ears. And just briefly enough to help me recognize I was being spoken to.

My vision clears as I look up to my savior.

“Jericho?”

She knows my name? Then she must be her.

“Brianna?”

She smiles, relieved. “It seems we cleared that up, I’m glad I found you when I did, what are you doing out here at night?” The girl begins stroking my hair with her thumb, I wince at her touch. She’s awfully friendly.

Then the realization hits me. “My sister! I was… coming to apologize to my sister…” I look around the room and dart my eyes. “Where… is she?”

The human continues smiling. “Safe, and warm.” Her stomach growls underneath me, “Listen, you’ll forgive me later, but this is what she wanted. Just don’t struggle too much.”

I don’t even get a moment to protest whatever she’s doing when she shovels me into mouth! I flail around desperately. This wasn’t happening. The wet and sticky saliva coats my body and the human quickly gulps me down her gullet. Sending me straight to her stomach. I feel a heavy feeling in my chest as I’m deposited into her growling stomach. Something touches my shoulder and I scream.

“Woah! It’s okay, it’s just Chloe!”

I stare blankly in disbelief. She was… alive? In here?

“Sorry for panicking you, Jericho.” She embraces me tight, lingering on my name. “But I knew you wouldn’t agree to this willingly.” She pats me on the back. “We’re safe. Brianna won’t digest us, she’ll keep us safe tonight, and all winter. Our struggles are over, Jericho. We can rest.”

I open and close my hands slowly, processing her words. “You… planned all this? This was your idea?” She nods. “And you’re not angry?” She shakes her head. I look her up and down, then at the slimy surrounding around us, and the dim light coming from the walls. “I want to sleep.” The day had taken its toll, and I wanted to rest. At least I can take comfort in seeing my sister alive.

Chloe

I spent the rest of the night with Jericho in Brianna’s stomach. Talking about anything and everything, hoping to relax him. As morning came Jericho confessed to me how sad and scared he’s been, sobbing into my arms as Brianna spits us up. We clean ourselves thoroughly.

Outside a large blanket of snow had buried everything. We were practically snowed in. I take Jericho's hand and look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. For everything this week. I’ve been difficult and hard to love, yet you risked your life multiple times to ensure my safety. You are an amazing brother, and even if I hate you sometimes. You’re not all that bad.”

Jericho does the same, “And I’m sorry, for not believing in you, and not trusting you. You are extremely smart and capable. You have proven to me that I don’t know everything.” He looks up to Brianna, “And thank you, Human, for not hurting my sister or I, and for taking us in. We will make up for the sacrifices you make for us.”

I chuckle at that, “And another thing Bri? Thanks for eating me. I didn’t know I would enjoy it so much, but I have never felt so warm or safe in my life, you are an amazing human that we borrowers-” I nudged my brother, “-Would love to get to know!”

Brianna takes a moment and tears well up in her eyes, “Always happy to help anyone in need, Human, Animal, Plant, Borrower, whatever. My love is unconditional. I’m excited for this winter.” She glanced out the window at the snow and falling flakes. “And if you need anything, I will be happy to provide, it’s the least I can do for two cute borrowers who have been through hell.” She nods solemnly at me.

Jericho embraces me, and gives him one arm back and raises my other for Brianna. The three of us share a long hug together, and despite our many differences, I know it’ll work out for all of us.

[love-and-greta]

Surprise Surprise

Just a little Daddy Josh fic that has been sitting in my drafts for way too long!

Hope y’all enjoy!

No warnings, just pure fluff :)

____________________________________________

You sat on the edge of the cold toilet seat staring down at the pregnancy test in your hands; your eyes wide and your heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.

Two lines. There was no denying it.

You and Josh weren’t actively trying to get pregnant, but you also weren’t exactly trying to avoid it either. The two of you had made it known that one day you wanted to have children with one another; long nights turned into earlier mornings, wrapped up in each other’s arms, whispering plans for your future together.

You were just shocked that that future was now. Was Josh going to be excited? Would this get in the way of his career? Were you even ready to be a mom?

Nervousness started to creep into your stomach the longer you stared at the test. You knew you had to tell Josh today. You hadn’t let him know you had missed your period two weeks ago, hoping it was just late this month. But the truth was sitting right in your hands, clammy from the nerves, or maybe nausea? Either way, it was time to give him the news.

You stood up, placed the test in your back pocket and turned towards the bathroom mirror. Hesitantly, you looked at your reflection, trying to avoid the lower half of your body. You weren’t ready just yet to acknowledge the small amount of bloating your stomach had taken on this past week. However, you couldn’t help it when your hand popped up to hover over your abdomen as you thought about the possibility of carrying Josh’s child. You also couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at the corner of your lips.

After giving yourself a short pep talk, you exited the bathroom and slowly made your way down the hall to Josh’s studio, pausing at the open door. He was sitting at his desk, facing away from you, writing in his journal. Sunlight streamed into the room from the large bay window in front of the desk, illuminating the stray curls that crowned Josh’s head. No matter what he was doing, Josh somehow always managed to look like a literal angel.

He placed his pen down and turned towards you, a smile already stretched across his face. He must have felt your presence, you thought.

“Well hello there beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you replied shyly.

“Well don’t just stand there, come here Birdie,” Josh chuckled, motioning to you to come sit on his lap.

You crossed the room and straddled Josh’s thighs, immediately lacing your fingers into the curls you had just been admiring. Josh sighed and softly kissed your lips.

“I definitely think I’ve done enough work today now that you’re here,” he said quietly into your lips.

You were tempted to get lost in Josh’s embrace, but knew you had to share the news before you lost the small amount of courage you had gathered in the bathroom.

“Actually, there is something I need to tell you…”, you replied quietly, slowly pulling back to look into Josh’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”, you responded nervously.

“Okay, well lay it on me sweet cheeks,” Josh teased, slightly tickling your waist.

Before thinking on it too much, you grabbed Josh’s hand and placed it over the bulge in your back pocket. He felt around for a few seconds and paused before beginning to pull the stick out.

“A present?”, he asked, slight confusion showing on his face.

“You could say that…” you replied cautiously. You could feel your heart start to pound as Josh brought the test into his view.

Quickly realizing what it was, Josh’s body stilled. He stared at it with wide eyes for a what felt like a lifetime before he turned his attention back to you.

“Birdie…”, he finally said, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Are you…” Josh’s voice trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

You slowly nodded your head, not being able to find any words at the moment. You could see tears beginning to form in Josh’s eyes and a small smile spread across his lips.

“There’s a baby in there?”, Josh asked quietly, looking down at your stomach. “We…we made a baby?”

He put the test down onto the desk, and placed his hands on your waist, slowly rubbing circles on your stomach with his thumbs. “You’re pregnant?”, he asked quietly.

“It appears so,” you answered, feeling your voice wobble as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes.

Josh looked back up at you with a huge grin, a rogue tear sliding down his cheek.

“Birdie, we’re having a baby!”

You nodded your head again, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“Holy shit babe. We’re going to be parents!” Josh exclaimed, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you tightly against his chest. You felt a surge of joy course through your body seeing Josh’s very obvious excitement about the news.

“I honestly couldn’t love you more in this moment than I do right now,” Josh said breathlessly. He brought his hands up to cup your face. “Thank you mama,” he whispered, kissing your lips softly.

“I love you so much Josh,” you sighed, deepening the kiss.

Josh chuckled softly against your lips.

“What?”, you asked, pulling back.

“It’s nothing. I’m just so happy right now,” he answered, kissing his hand and placing it onto your belly. “And I am so happy to be your dad, little one…”, he spoke softly towards your stomach.

You placed your hands over his, feeling like your heart was going to burst with joy. In that moment, you knew that everything was going to be okay.

[radical-sky]

UPDATE: part one is posted on tumblr HERE

Okay fam/friends/mutuals. I have been working on something that I really really want feedback on before I continue. It’s my only foray into Mission: Impossible fic and the first thing I’ve written and put on the internet in 7. I welcome constructive criticism. This is arguably a very, very rough draft and I wrote it entirely on my phone which I’ve never done before. There’s still shaping up to do but I have a good bit more than this written and know how it’s going to play out. Thoughts please? 🫣😮‍💨

Ilsa can’t remember the last time she was tempted to fidget. It’s never been as tempting as it is now, standing in a cold and damp third world prison waiting for Ethan to be brought out to her. Well, not just her. The White Widow stands next to her, her brother not far away. He scowls at Ilsa, not happy to be here and not happy to risk his and his sister’s lives on a job for her. It’s nothing sanctioned (if you or your team are killed or captured you’ll be disavowed) but the moment Benji had finally, finally found Ethan the four of them - Luther, Benji, Ilsa, and even Brandt pulling strings and doing as much as he could behind the scenes - things had moved pretty quickly. Luther or Benji (it doesn’t matter now because they both had been trying their damnedest to get it done) had hacked into the security system on the prison; cameras in every cell, interrogation room, the hallways. Not that any of them needed to see what they were doing to Ethan (in the two weeks since she first saw him on the grainy camera feed it’s all she sees when she closes her eyes, doesn’t need audio to hear his screams and the sounds they rip from his throat, or backdated footage to catalog what tool made each scar or bleeding wound on his body. those pictures will be seared in her brain for all eternity. she wants and yearns and rages at the sacrifice he made for her, for them and falls asleep with a screen playing live footage from his cell in her lap, showing him pressed back into the corner of the tiny cage, curled up protectively, shivering or trembling she can’t tell. wishing she could tell him somehow i’m coming. i will get you out. i haven’t forgotten about you. you’re not disavowed to me. i’m sorry. i’m so terribly sorry ethan). They don’t have to watch the footage for long to decide that any escape that depends on Ethan getting himself out won’t happen. Without government backing and even with Brandt’s help they don’t have the resources or the manpower to storm the prison and break him out. That left one option, and it wasn’t one that any of them liked. The White Widow had been less than thrilled to hear from Ilsa but intrigued at the prospect of mediating an exchange for her. She’d been more willing when she realized John Lark was half the exchange. The team had been up in the air about how to refer to Ethan, but in the end had to believe that Ethan hadn’t revealed himself as an American agent, if he had the terrorists surely would have executed him, or worse, auctioned him to the highest bidder. The White Widow knew him as John Lark, so they kept that identity with her, and insisted that it not be revealed to the terrorists. It’d taken almost a week for the White Widow to get the meet set-up, leaving ample time for the team to get the money gathered (and that part hurt. they’d had ethan for 5 months. 5 months of torturing him and all they wanted was money?). So, now here she is. Not fidgeting. Not twisting her ankle or flexing her calf muscles and imaging she can feel the rods and pins holding her leg together, or the scar where her tibia bone punched through the skin of her calf, not twisting her arm and feeling knitted scars where the bones ground together excruciatingly.

And above all else she’s not resting her hand on the barely there bump on her stomach, the bump invisible and hidden beneath a loose blouse and trench coat. Invisible to everyone that doesn’t know her and Ethan’s secret.

———

The first mission wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was supposed to be easy and wonderful and the start to the greatest partnership of his life.

So of course, like everything else in his life, it went to shit in 5 minutes.

He and Ilsa had never exactly named the thing between them, except that it was theirs. He didn’t tell Benji and Luther (although greatly suspected Luther knew and Benji was suspicious), and Ilsa being a free agent didn’t have anyone to tell. They were each others greatest secret, greatest weakness, greatest compromise. Because they did compromise each other. There was no question after they’d saved each other so many times, sacrificing the mission for them. The Thing started simply - after handing Lane off to MI6 a week spent in London exploring each others bodies carefully around broken ribs and bruised necks (and how he had enjoyed adding his marks to her neck and having her hands lovingly caressing the broken parts of him) telling stories and sharing the private, secret parts of themselves no one else knew - then a night Cape Town, a weekend in Moscow, six hours in Brussels, two days in Paris, traveling 8 hours to spend 4 hours in her hotel room in Athens. Whenever they could and their schedules overlapped enough, or if they even happened to be in the same time zone, they were together.

After Julia, he didn’t think he’d ever feel this way about another woman.

Any chance he could he’d pull her into his missions. Anything to have her by his side. So when Brandt told him Sloane had given him the approval to extend the offer of a permanent position with the IMF - with Ethan’s team - to Ilsa he was perhaps the happiest he’d ever been. The two of them together - partners - properly, permanently.

He never thought he’d be considering marriage again either.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when it fell apart. The plan failed. His backup scenarios ran out. There were no more moves, no more chess pieces. So when he wrecked and went down, Ilsa dying in his earpiece, Benji too late and too far away to save her, a part of him, all hope, died with her. When he saw his pursuers approaching he was relieved, he’d never been so ready or willing to meet death than in that moment. To go where Ilsa would be waiting for him. He was already halfway there, a piece of rebar in his chest, internal injuries too numerous to catalogue, his leg didn’t feel right, arm wouldn’t lift. Ethan closed his eyes, ready for the bullet that would end his life. He certainly hadn’t expected them to take him alive, put him in the hospital, and get him just healthy enough he’d survive the torture. Survive he did, but not as Ethan Hunt. As something else, a shell of a human. All hope lost. No prayer of rescue. He knew he was disavowed and no help would be coming. He kept his mouth shut and took what they gave him. Didn’t utter a word except for the screams and shouts when it became too much. He’d already failed everything and everyone else. He couldn’t fail here. Couldn’t stand to betray his country on top of it all.

So when his captors told him he was being traded for goods more valuable than him, he knew he had to end it or escape. He couldn’t do this indefinitely. Eventually he’d break and the shell would crack and he’d be human again. So he plotted and planned, and when they came for him he knew what he had to do. His final plan, the one to end it all.

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay well we spent two hours doing a small group brainstorming/planning activity using projects from people’s work and that was actually fun—I love doing that kind of ideation and planning work with people. then we had to sit through 30+ min of whole-group debrief where people stood up and monologued breathlessly about feeling held by the collective as we harvested each other’s wisdom which almost ruined the experience. but luckily I came prepared with a challenge to work through in my head lol.

today’s zoning-out project is mapping out the basic research skills class I’ll be teaching in the spring quarter. one of the big problems I’ve identified in my info-gathering interviews is that students can’t do some pretty basic research things (like reading academic articles, evaluating sources, conducting lit reviews on a given topic, etc) and so faculty don’t want to take them on as summer research assistants because it’s a ton of work to train them in those skills AND familiarize them with the faculty member’s questions and methods AND give them a crash-course on the existing scholarship around this topic. so I am trying to pilot a thing where faculty get extra research funds for taking on a small group of summer students… but my office takes them for a quarter first, trains them in those basic skills and helps them build relationships with the librarians, and has them do all their major activities & assignments using real sources/data related to the faculty member’s project. that way students have 10 weeks to practice the skills and learn at least some of the research before we hand them off to the faculty mentors for the summer. I think we will also provide ongoing mentoring + student services-type support throughout the summer so we can continue working on project management and skill-building type stuff with them individually as they are conducting research… but for now I am focusing on drafting a version of the spring course to workshop with the faculty members who have expressed interest in participating. anyway I am at the very earliest stages but today while zoning out I spent some time trying to unbundle some of the skills that go into engaging with academic sources… needs refining (and maybe even some more unbundling?) but here is a first stab at it:

[mariacallous]

I spent some time on the subway trying to decompress from work and also trying to pinpoint what my specific frustrations are with work.

I actually left earlier then I normally do today because I just couldn’t be there anymore (and both the overall team director and my supervisor weren’t in the office at that point) which helped a bit, especially since we had finally, finally, finally finished getting all the feedback and making the edits and updates to this one project and sent the proposed final draft and got a response with two minor changes (which could and should have been asked for earlier but whatever) which I made and then resent.

Anyway, during those 45ish minutes on the subway, here’s what I realized/concluded:

-There have been so many shifts and changes and adjustments that have had to been made across the board with work that it’s hard to find or maintain and equilibrium. I have no problem being flexible, but I’m also not Elastigirl and it also takes time to adjust and shift mentally and emotionally.

-A lot of the projects I’m supposed to be sort of taking the lead or being point on either keep getting postponed or delayed or pushed back in addition to shifts and changes and whatnot, and other ones get placed on hold so there’s a sort of scrambling to figure out what I can and should focus on and what I need to pause working on. And having to stop what’s being worked on to immediately address some new feedback or requests from higher up add to that.

-Relatedly, a lot of projects are very dependent on other people reacting or responding or contributing and so there’s either constant checking in and asking for things or things getting cancelled and needing to be rescheduled. For example, one of the senior leadership we’ve been trying to meet with for like 3-4 weeks now and every time realizes there’s a conflict with the new proposed time and so it gets pushed off to the next week or so (when they finally respond, that is). This member of leadership is also in the division with some of the biggest capacity and staffing and process issues and the meeting is specifically about us working with them and their team(s) to try to address those exact problems which makes it even more frustrating.

-People keep waiting or delaying things in order to get things as perfect and the people gathered as full as possible, so that even if there’s a meeting where 6-7 of the 10 people total invited are available, with two particular people not being available throws it off to needing to reschedule. And that group of 10 was expanded (not by me but by people forwarding the meeting invite to others not intended or expected) so that the actual core group of people needed are all available.

-Some group projects I’ve been working on have not been prioritized or fully worked by other people compared to the work I’ve put in, and so things we’ve been trying to complete with them haven’t been able to happen (like submission by specific deadlines or having specific milestones met re: work progress) and I’ve also stepped up more and done more with these projects because of that so I’m even more resentful and irritated. Combined with the fact that there was little guidance or structure provided with many of them to begin with and how much they’ve morphed and grown, and it’s made me lose a lot of enthusiasm and engagement.

-Both my supervisor and the overall team director can work remotely but it’s hit or miss if they remember to let people know in advance (the overall director is really bad about that) and so meetings or presentations that were scheduled for in-person have to be either shifted to factor in remote capability or moved to another day and time. And the amount of checking in or updates or work that gets done decreases and responses are difficult to get, regardless of whether they’re emailed or sent via teams chat. Additionally, if I’m the only person on my team in the office, people come to me about shit that at least half the time I can’t answer or address or don’t know anything about.

-People overbook themselves or get pulled into meetings and requests, either intentionally or inadvertently, but it means that things take forever to happen and a huge amount of time is spent having to juggle and balance schedules and people are hesitant to meet or discuss things if such-and-such a person isn’t present, even if the purpose of the meeting is to just discuss and prepare for a future meeting or next steps where such-and-such can be included or is available. Literally every time I have to schedule something it’s a minimum of 10 minutes looking for available times and keeping a particular timeframe or deadline in mind.

Anyway, those are the frustrations and disappointments. My next steps are to figure out how to adapt and not get too irritated and to seek equilibrium.

[j-nipper-95]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tags today @captain-aralias and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe​, I’m loving seeing what you’re working on. 

I’m back again with some more of ASR again this week, though I am still chipping away at that teased idea I mentioned last week. I think I might take some time on one of my days off to actually start planning out a few beats.

But ASR! I’m still editing it, and my editor and I have reached what I lovingly call the ‘shit hits the fan’ chapters, where everything that can go wrong, does, for Lauren and her friends. I’ve also ended up adding in two additional chapters, so second draft edits are going to be fun!

Anyway, six sentences of Lauren trying to keep her cool during the chaos, while her friend Nathan has a mini freak out (understandable when your friend is looking a little stabby). Nathan is one of those characters that can’t help but make jokes in stressful situations, but maybe making comments like this to the person armed almost literally to the teeth wasn’t his best idea.

“I watched the attack happen,” Lauren said. “I couldn’t do anything. I was outnumbered, the force InterPol had gathered was massacred, and I lost my contact in the chaos. He’s MIA, and I don’t have any support now outside of London.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re currently wearing the entire contents of a cutlery drawer,” Nathan remarked, gesturing to Lauren’s attire.

“Nate, I will ask you one last time. Keep your voice down, or you will get intimately acquainted with the ‘cutlery’,” Lauren warned. Nathan, to his credit, immediately shut up.

Tagging: @aristocratic-otter​ @stardustasincocaine​ @palimpsessed​ @cutestkilla​ @prettylightsbigcity​ @letraspal​ @martsonmars​ @hushed-chorus​ @confused-bi-queer​ @krisrix​ @bookish-bogwitch​ @erzbethluna​ @mostlymaudlin​ @ileadacharmedlife​ @orange-peony​

[autumnalwalker]

Untitled Solarpunk Witch draft, chapter 1.3

Spring, Week 3, Ten of Swords

“We moved the extraction up a day because the weather took a turn for the worse. Not for the first time, I found myself envying the days before Kessler Syndrome killed the satellites that used to predict that. Not that I was going to let a little wind and rain stop me. If anything, it’d make for a more exciting job.”

There’s more of a crowd than I would have preferred. Not that I mind the attention - I’m happy to put on a show, much to Bast(et)‘s disapproval - but I’d hate for anything to happen to them in the unlikely chance that something goes wrong. 

It’s not too late to put this off until tomorrow. Bast(et) says from her perch on the broom floating just above the water. For once she’s nearly eye-level with me. I don’t like how the wind’s picking up. 

I look up at the gray sky. Even overcast as it is I can still visibly see the clouds moving. She’s got a point, but… I shake my head “It was too late ten minutes ago when we started laying the barrier film out. Now that it’s wet it’s not going to gather back up well and if we leave it out the storm’s liable to shred it. Best thing to do now is work quickly.”

Please don’t do anything reckless because you’re trying to show off. You have nothing to prove. 

I finish attaching the clamps to the underside of the broom and give them a few tugs to make sure they’re secure. “Whoever said that I did?”

Never mind. Just stay focused and promise you’ll be careful. 

“Of course I will.”

I pull myself out of the marsh onto the broom and reengage my interfacing with it, joining Bast(et) in joint control.  I start to shake off some of the mud and saltwater before I remember I’m about to get right back in soon. Looking out at the gathered spectators I give a thumbs up and shout “Good to go!”

Luanna takes this as her cue to start clearing everyone out to a safe distance.  And it does feel like everyone.  Everyone that’s been involved with the project up until now anyway.  Emanuel’s got the airboat ready in case I need something solid to move the drone to.  Travis is there at the head of the group that originally tried to retrieve the fallen tree, including the Richardson brothers.  I wonder if watching me get the drone out will feel like revenge against it for those two or simply being one-upped.  Either way, they seem to be slower to back off than the task group I’ve spent the past couple weeks working with and making it abundantly clear what this thing’s capable of.

Any one of them would be at my side right now if we had anything like a proper hazmat suit in Zello.  But instead we’ve just got me and my implants.

Oh, and then there’s Ursula off to the side.  When’d she get here?  Capturing the witch at work again I suppose.

I watch all of them for a few minutes before we start moving the broom back up and over the yellow-green patch of barrier film floating on top of the water.  We keep high enough that the cables aren’t dragging over it but leaving a little bit of slack for now.  Once it looks like everyone’s as far back as they’re going to move I do one last check on the drone’s status.  I’d powered it back up to a maintenance standby state when I got here so I could monitor its internals better.  Bast(et) wasn’t too happy about this but it shouldn’t be able to do anything without me explicitly telling it to exit maintenance mode and this way if anything starts leaking again I’ll have some advance warning.  For now, it looks like whatever was clogging up the old leak has held.  We’ll see if it holds when we start lifting.

And with that, we command the broom to ascend, straight up.  The lines goes taut and we snap to a halt.  For a moment it looks like we’re resting atop poles extending from the center of the film; a figurine made life-size.  And then something gives beneath the surface and we begin to inch upward.

Slow and steady does it.

“Trusting you with that part,” I murmur.  “Dual interfacing with an old system like this is more of an attention split than expected.”  Enough of an attention split that I slipped back into speaking aloud.

How is that, by the way?

“Okay so far.  A few minor alerts that it’s being moved in an unexpected direction, but no cause for alarm.  Gas canister levels are constant, so whatever clogged the leak is still in place.”

For the next several minutes we continue to slowly rise; me focusing on the broom’s target vector and orientation while Bast(et) keeps us level and adjusts our thrust to keep the velocity constant despite the ever-decreasing resistance as more and more of the drone passes from mud to water.  Technically, either one of us could do the whole process on our own and the broom handles a lot of general command interpretation on its own, but it’s easier and more precise this way.  More importantly, the act of working in concert like this is its own pleasure.

As for the drone’s aquatic disinterment, I can’t see it from up here, but I can feel it.  The changes in its pressure sensors ping in the back of my mind.  The minute change in ambient temperature slides at the edge of my vision.  I let out an involuntary gasp when, for the first time in decades, the drone’s camera sees light.  Briefly the sight of my own blurry silhouette though the barrier film seen from below overlays my own vision.  Bast(et) would call it anthropomorphizing and projecting my own feelings onto the thing, but in that moment I can’t help but feel a sense of relief, joy even, coming from the drone.

Are you alright?

“Oh, yeah, sorry.  Just realized the drone’s camera was still working.”  I switch the feed off.  Sorry little buddy, but that’s a distraction I don’t need right now if I’m going to get you out safe and sound.

We jerk upwards with a wobble as the last of the drone pops free from the marsh bed.

Oops.

That’s a scary word coming from her.  “What happened?”

The resistance dropped faster than I anticipated.  I think our cargo might have been caught on something until just now.  We should be fine unless there’s a problem on your end.

“Looks like we’re g-” I hear an alert ping that never passed through my ears.  My eyes dart to the AR projection I’d set up of the gas canister levels.  “Faster! Now!”

To Bast(et)’s credit she’s accelerating before I even finish verbalizing the command.  Yet at the same time, she manages to ease us into it smoothly enough to not jerk anything around down there.  No hesitation, no questioning, but no panic either.

Below us, where the cables have up until now been passing through a hole in the barrier film, the drone at last reaches the surface and, unable to fit through, begins to lift the film up with it.  As the drone rises, the film pulls in around it, hugging to the old machine’s contours the best it can while making allowances for mud and gravity.  As it clears the water, weights and a cord around the film’s border pull it closed beneath like an inverted drawstring bag and the edges bond together to complete the seal as they touch.

We stop moving and stabilize.  Mostly stabilize.  We’re about at the broom’s weight limit for flight and this wind isn’t helping any.  I’ll need to keep that in mind if I try to take the drone with me when we leave Zello, but hopefully it will be a lot lighter without the mud and guns.

Status?

“Whatever was clogging the leak came loose. I might have overreacted, but it looks like we got it before enough got out to be a hazard. I’ll give the little bit that did a minute to disperse then I’ll head down.”

Are you sure that’s wise?

“Not that much got out before the barrier sealed it back up.  Besides, we know exactly what we’re dealing with this time so worst case scenario we run a targeted cleanse, flush it from my system, and I’m left a bit shaky and nauseated.  And anyway, someone needs to remove that canister before we take this guy back to town.”

This guy?

“The drone.”

Bast(et)’s only reply is a disapproving eye roll at me while I start dismounting the broom and shimmying down the cables.  I’ll need to be sure to thank that guy from the planning group that loaned me his gloves; I hate to think how raw my hands would be now otherwise.  Leon I think his name was?  I’ve got no excuse not to have all their names memorized by now.  Another part of my job I’m bad at.  A village witch should know the names of everyone in that village.

I’m expecting a metal thud or clang when I land on top of the drone, but I’m greeted with a squelching noise instead.  Still some mud and water stuck between the chassis and the film I guess.  Not wanting to risk accidentally rip the coating by climbing down the side, I jump the last few feet down into the water.  Upon landing with a splash my knees loudly remind me that the marsh wasn’t all that deep here for breaking my fall.  That’s going to be sore for a bit, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.

I stand up and wipe my goggles clean just in time to see the suspended drone swinging back towards me as it completes the pendulum arc I sent it on when I pushed off to jump.  Reflex kicks in.  A shout of surprise.  A step to the side.  An arm out to catch it as it swings back once again.  A soft strain on my wrist and shoulder.  The swinging drone eases to a stop.  Mostly.  It’s heavy, but every now and then the wind gusts strong enough to blow it about slightly.  Or perhaps the broom is getting blown and dragging its load along below it.

Either way I keep a hand on it as I walk around to inspect what I’m going to be working with.  The exact shape of the drone is obscured beneath the barrier film that’s draped over it beyond the fact that it’s essentially a box big enough for me to fit inside if I curl up with legs attached to it that are currently folded up at its sides.  We seem to have pulled it out with its front facing upward.

Sorry for stepping on your face, big guy.

So far the film seems to be holding nicely.  No holes or rips.  Nice even yellow-green throughout except for… there! I stop in front of the slowly spreading brown patch that marks where the gas is leaking underneath.  Pulling up the drone’s status projection once more, it looks like shaking the thing around finished dislodging whatever had been blocking the leak and now the gas is coming out faster.  Fortunately, the film seems to be doing its job, absorbing and neutralizing the gas as it makes contact.  I give it another minute for the canister to finish emptying its contents and then another ten for it all to disperse and absorb.  Probably longer than I need to, but best to play it safe.

“Alright, I think we should be in the clear.” I subvocalize to Bast(et).  Easier than shouting up there.  “Lower it down a little.  I’m going to open it up.”

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait to move to solid ground first?

“There’s a second canister in there.  If there’s an accident removing it I’d rather it be out here than back in town.  Dangerous to assume that it’s just the one that’s compromised.”

I’ll get the targeted cleanse ready to go.

“Here’s hoping I won’t need it.”

While Bast(et) lowers the drone I look back at the spectators.  Seems like they all had the sense to move upwind.  Good.  From what I looked up, this stuff was designed for indoor use and should safely disperse before it gets to them anyway, but better safe than sorry.

I follow their example and move a few yards upwind myself.  As I start going through a series of menus to prep the command to open up that weapons compartment, Bast(et) rotates the broom and the drone beneath it so as to keep that compartment facing away.  Another big gust comes through, this one enough to set the drone on another pendulum swing.  For a terrible moment I think it’s about to slam into the side of the fallen tree, but it stops just short.  A few more arcs back and forth before stabilizing.

I give a sigh of relief, whisper a prayer, and take a breath to center myself.  

Interface with the drone.  It knows something isn’t right. No fear - it was never taught how to feel that - but it is confused.  This isn’t a proper maintenance orientation.  The constant pull of the cables is sending a stream of warnings from pressure sensors.  The repeated spinning and swinging indicate an unsafe work environment.

I apologize for waking it up sooner than I said I would.  Turns out I needed it awake for safety monitoring during maintenance.  It wouldn’t do to get either of us hurt.

It asks what I intend to do to it.

I ask it to open up its starboard compartment so I can remove that leaky canister.

It complains about the unknown substance covering the compartment.

I reassure it that the substance is harmless and tell it to go ahead.

It trusts me and complies.

I thank it and disconnect.

There’s now a large bulge under the brown patch of barrier film where the compartment door is attempting to open.  I wade back over and poke my wand through the film for a divination.  No significant trace of the gas detected.  The film’s done its job.  Safe enough then I figure and pull the wand downward to start enough of a rip in the film.  I pull the wand back out and re-sheath it while the force of the compartment door opening causes the rip to expand in both directions until the door itself at last pulls free, exposing the drone’s internals to the open air for the first time in many decades as muddy water pours out.

Finally I get to see the damage with my own eyes.  To my surprise, the canister is crushed rather than punctured.  Yes, there is a puncture hole on the door from where the tree fell on it, but it looks like it damaged and deformed the clamp holding the canister rather than hitting it directly.  

I open the waterproof satchel I’ve had strapped to my waist this whole time and retrieve a smaller square of barrier film then reconnect to the drone and ask it to release the clamp.  It obliges and I catch the crushed and probably-empty canister with the film and wrap it up.

One down, one to go.

I set the safely wrapped empty canister down to bob on the surface of the water.  A visual inspection of the second canister aligns with the drone’s diagnostics telling me that it’s undamaged so I pull out another film sheet and repeat the process.  As I’m wrapping the second canister I notice it has a different label than the first one.  Huh, that’s weird, the drone seemed to think they were the same.

I’m preoccupied enough trying to figure out that discrepancy that I’m slow to react to the next big wind that tears through.  Some part of my brain registers the mass of the suspended drone swing into my peripheral vision and I reflexively throw up my hands to protect myself.

My hands that are still holding the second canister.

The drone pushes my back into the fallen tree trunk and I gasp. I feel a crunch as the center of the canister is pressed against the edge of the compartment.  A hissing sound begins.

Shit.

I push the drone away and pull out another film sheet.  Begin wrapping.  Watch the film quickly turn gray.  Apply another layer.  And another.  I’m out now.

Wait.  Gray?  Not brown?  Oh, MG, it is different.  Why is it different?  The drone thought it was the same.  What long-dead Corporate dumbass loaded the wrong canister?  Did I breathe any of it?  Is it skin-absorbant?  Why is my nose running?  Oh shit, I did breathe it in.

“BAST(ET)!”

My chest tightens.  Is that fear or a symptom? My vision swims.  Symptom.

Full system cleanse initiated.  I’m getting help.  Don’t drown.

I have time for one last thought before the full cleanse hits me.

This is gonna suck.

*******

I don’t really remember the next few hours.  And for that I’m thankful.  On the upside, the cleanse kicked in quickly enough that the symptoms from the gas stopped almost as soon as they began.  Turns out Bast(et) had already started the process before I even called out to her.

On the downside, a full system cleanse sucks.  You’re really not supposed to do one except as a last resort emergence measure.  A targeted cleanse would have my implants detecting, isolating, and expelling a specific substance or chemical, or, if properly configured, rapidly synthesizing and deploying a counteragent to neutralize it.  A full cleanse has the implants stimulate my body to expel any foreign material.  It’s an inexact process to put it lightly, especially if you force it into an accelerated mode like we did.  Any food in your digestive tract?  Out the nearest exit and fry a portion of your gut bacteria as collateral damage while we’re at it.  Air in your lungs?  Time to see how fast we can replace it.  Unknown substance in your bloodstream?  Let’s try extruding it through the pores in your skin.  Those implants running throughout your whole body enabling this whole process?  Well, we’re not supposed to do anything to them but accidents happen.

As all that hits at once I last just long enough to feel myself falling backwards into the marsh before blacking out.

When I wake up I’m on a bed in the village clinic with Doc Yepes on one side of me and Bast(et) on the other.  There’s a background white noise I can’t place.  The doctor tells me that, whatever I did, I did quickly enough that I shouldn’t have any lasting side effects from the gas.  Whatever I did as a cure though really did a number on me and he recommends a week of bedrest.  That sounds about right from what I know of the cleansing process.  Feels about right too given how I’m sore all over, nauseous, and itching on the inside.

I  notice Bast(et) pawing at me and I ask for a moment alone with my familiar.  The good doctor obliges.

Once the door closes Bast(et) speaks up. Her voice comes out of a speaker on my grimoire instead of direct transmission to my cochlear nerve. She tells me that the cleanse damaged my implants and that it’ll take some time for them to grow back and self-repair. After calming me down, expressing her relief that I didn’t die, and thoroughly chastising my carelessness she fills me in on what happened after I blacked out. 

When I cried out, several of the onlookers took that as a cue to come to my aid.  Travis and Emanuel got there first with the airboat and fished me out.  Bast(et) set the covered drone down on the vessel as well and started using my grimoire to explain what happened and give instructions on what to do with me.  Most people thought that it was somehow me communicating through secret witch arts despite the spasming and insensate state of my body.  Bast(et) didn’t bother correcting them.

We all went back to town, I was hauled off to the clinic, the gas canisters were handed off to Luanna to finish disposing of, and the drone’s was left on one of the docks under Zello with a tarp thrown over it and tied down to stay put in the storm.

At the mention of the storm I realize that’s the noise I’ve been hearing through the walls and ceiling.  It’s really coming down hard out there.

Doc Yepes returns to check on me.  Over the next couple of hours several others stop by to see how I’m doing and fill me in on what I missed.  Most of it Bast(et) already told me, but some of it’s new details.

I spend the night in the clinic.  The next morning Ursula shows up to walk me back to the house.  I use my broom as a walking stick.  The thought crosses my mind that I’d rather lean on it while hovering, but I can’t properly interface with it right now and it’s low on power anyway.  We run into Travis on the way.  Apparently he’d had the same idea as Ursula.

I spend the rest of the week taking it easy around the house.  Recovering.  Neighbors stop by.  Some are thankful.  Some seem almost in awe of my “sacrifice for the village.”  A couple lay into me for putting everyone in that crowd in danger by trying to do it all myself.  All of them try to help me in some way.  Bringing me food, helping with the wall garden.  Giving me updates on the discussion about what to do with the drone.

Bast(et), still talking through the Grimoire when no one’s around, makes another “welcome to martyrdom” comment.  I’m starting to think that’s some kind of AI cultural in-joke that I’m not getting.

And so I rest.  Recover.  Try to relax before thinking too hard about what I need to do next.

*******

The bathtub now full, I press my hat to the underside and tap the sequence on my grimoire to start the ritual.  Tapping manually.  On the screen.  Hopefully I’ll at least be able to interface with my own implements again soon.

Normally I go for showers over baths, but this is part of the recovery process and I already technically cleaned myself beforehand.  The whole bathroom smells of herbs and flowers.  Some of them are local.  Some of them are from a small stock I brought with me.  All of them have been either stewing with me in the baths that I’ve taken over the past five days since the drone extraction or been arrayed around the tub.  I perhaps could have done a better job with my selection for scents that complement one another better and maybe used a few less to keep it more subtle, but it’s not unpleasant.  The symbolic act of it is enough to help relax me where the scent itself falls short.

I lower myself into the warm water.  Seated, I reach over to the nearby stool, retrieve the gray crystals, and bring them into the water with me.  Four go on the floor of the tub; one on either side of me, one between my feet, one at the end of the tub for my head to float above.  The fifth I place on my submerged chest.

And then, I lay back, float, relax, and wait for the ritual to begin.

It’s not a long wait until the same sonic components on the hat that I used a few weeks ago for imaging the buried drone kick in and begin to subtly vibrate the tub and the water within.  This in turn activates the crystals and they begin to glow.  

I can never help but smirk at that.  The glowing is entirely unnecessary, but we still make them that way anyway.  The same for them even looking like crystals in the first place.  You could say that of this whole ritual, technically.  Why dissolve the raw materials for the growing and maintaining our implants in a vibrating bath to be absorbed through the skin when it would be so much faster and more efficient to just ingest or inject them?  Officially, we say it’s to help ensure they get evenly absorbed and distributed throughout the body.  

I’ve always suspected though that it’s really for the same reasons that we shape our tools to look like giant pointy hats and wands.  The same reasons we style our hovercraft to look like brooms.  The same reasons that we insist on calling our tablet computers grimoires and our portable chem labs/3D printers cauldrons.

Symbolism and ritual.  The witch aesthetic is what aligns the technological side of what we do with the spiritual, environmental, and community side of what we do.  It’s what reminds those we meet - and just as importantly, ourselves - that we’re not just a bunch of body modders and hackers who also happen to garden.  We’re witches and our magic is in finding balance and weaving relationships.  Relationships between individuals to build a community.  Relationships between us and the earth to care for the mother who gave us life after we’ve done so much harm.  Relationships between humans and AIs to learn from one another and celebrate no longer being alone in the universe.  Magic is when the seemingly impossible happens, and it’s through working in concert that we accomplish what would be impossible for any of us alone.  The shapes we give our tools are a reminder that our tech exists to serve that purpose and not the other way around.

I chuckle, further rippling the water.  I’m supposed to be praying or meditating during this process to help focus on who I am and our purpose, and just letting my mind wander off on an undisciplined tangent I wound up doing that anyway.  Getting it right despite myself yet again.

“Something funny?” Bast(et)’s voice projects from the grimoire.

“Just life,” I murmur back.  I’m trying to keep as much of myself submerged as possible, and trying to talk without getting water in my mouth is a bit of a challenge.  “This’ll be the last of these for a while by the way, whether it’s enough or not.  I wasn’t expecting to grow through a year’s maintenance supply in a week.”

“That’s what happens when you’re not careful.”

“I know, I know.  MG, I know.” I close my eyes  “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to think about anything other than every single minor detail I should have done differently?”

“Judging by how often you’ve been staring off into space, clenching your jaw, then sighing, I surmise ‘very.’”

I realize I’m clenching my jaw as she says that and loosen it with a sigh.  Dammit.  “Did you tell the order about this yet?” 

“I wrote up a draft of a report, but I thought you’d like to review and send it yourself.”

“Thanks.  Maybe we can ask for a resupply on maintenance matter while we’re at it.”

“Given the circumstances, I’m sure they would approve it.”

I float in silence for several more minutes, trying to let that mess fade from my mind for now.  That stress isn’t conducive to healing.  I try to focus on my body instead.  It’s gone all limp and tingly by this point.   It feels nice.  I know I could move it if I really needed to, but even the thought of doing so unnecessarily just seems like an utterly unappealing effort.  I’ve never been able to figure out if that’s just the relaxation of the warm water and good vibrations or an actual effect of the maintenance matter bonding with my implants.

“I miss your voice,” I say, breaking the silence.

“Would you like me to keep talking while you meditate?  I’m told I can be quite soothing when I try.”

I smile, eyes still closed. “Thanks, but I mean your real voice.  The grimoire gets close, but there’s something hollow about it.  There’s a spark missing.”

Silence returns.  Stretches out.

“I miss your real voice too,” Bast(et) replies.

“I sound different?”

“Of course.  Direct interpretations of minor muscle movements filtered through neural readings of intent come in differently than wet vibrations of air.”

“So, that sounds like…”

“They’re not truly even the same thing, but if I were to translate to analogous audio and compare that, then I’d say this way is rougher, deeper, darker.  Close, like you said, but still different to anyone who really knows you.  I could play it back for you sometime once your implants are working again.”

“I’d like that.”  I let myself drift again and try to meditate, but realize I don’t want to be alone in my own head right now.  I’ve had too much of that already.  “At least we hadn’t gone full thought transfer,” I speak up again.  “That would really suck for withdrawal.”

“Or if we’d gestalted.”

“Oh, wow.”  I let out an involuntary laugh and open my eyes.  “I can’t even imagine what that must be like.  I have a hard enough time comprehending what it’d feel like to be merged like that full-time.  To then lose that…  That’s just frightening.”

“Well, I promise you’re not losing me.  Now get yourself healed back up and don’t do anything else that might make me lose you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[buzzdixonwriter]

Writing Report December 15, 2023

I haven’t written one of these in a while and it’s not been because I haven’t been writing (though I did take a long trip to Germany with Soon-ok in October) but because the writing had been mostly bits and pieces, notes and ideas for future work, and until not anything meant for publication or posting.

I finished my second big project for 2023 in mid-September (I aim to do two a year, starting one on January first, the other on July first) and started gathering material for my Jan. 1, 2024 project…

…if I could decide what it would be.

My recent works have been most humorous novels.  I have one on Kindle Vella (see above), two completed and on deck, the fourth being the just completed Sep. 11 first draft.  I thought the Jan. 1, 2023 work would be a romance / family drama, but while I’ve been gathering material for it, it just hasn’t caught fire in my imagination.

(I have a much bigger project in the works which will probably be a series of several novels, but that’s at least 2 – 4 years away, maybe longer.)

While traveling in Germany, I took along my iPad which also has a couple of thousand books I’ve downloaded from Project Gutenberg, the Internet Archive, and Canada’s Faded Page, among them most of the Doc Savage pulp novels.

My views on Doc Savage will be coming up at the first of the year (watch this space), but reading several of the old novels got me to wondering what a modern pulp adventure would look like and before I knew it, I had a cast of characters, their unique traits and specialties, their supporting cast, and their basic story template plus a great idea for a central location and a dandy mystery to kick off their first adventure.

And I realized this generated a lot more heat than the romance / family drama I want to do so I began anticipating this would be my January novel…

…only a character I created years ago for an idea that went nowhere (primarily because it was aimed at a specific market and I have no access to that market) reminded me she existed and then she re-introduced me to another character I toyed around with in my noodle but never committed to paper / pixel and I thought, well, that’s nice but how would I even get that story started in an interesting way and then I remembered I wrote a play a few years ago that also went nowhere (despite being submitted to several theatrical companies) that fit perfectly as an introduction for the main character as well as introduced another supporting character who could play a pivotal role in the story and then the pulp adventure crew got rudely elbowed aside with a “maybe later, ‘gator” and all my creative energy is going into this new story.

Because it’s that story’s time.

Go back two weeks to the David Bowie creativity post.

Don’t try to force it.

Let it come when it comes.

It’ll make itself know when it’s time to be born.

    © Buzz Dixon

[wroteclassicaly]

Open Window

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington)

Summary: You get really into your weekend tryst with Steve and Eddie.

Warnings: Language, masturbation, squirting, mentions of blood, fluff at the end, slight female dom, stripping, cowgirl, semi-established poly relationship, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, NSFW, and lotsa naughty touching!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington

A/N: Hey there, hi there! This is my first venture in the writing world of Stranger Things fanfiction! I’m nervous as hell, lol. I’ve only seen a few episodes, plus bits and pieces of the series, so I am keeping this fic pretty basic and plotless (basically just some self-serving filth, dedicated to all of us Eddie/Steve/Reader lovers, and fellow Steddie lovers). I fell absolutely in love with Eddie’s character, then Steve’s, causing an inevitable calling into this fandom/show, becoming dazed by how unique it is.

Once I finish the series in full, I do intend on having more stories and plot-heavy things coming, but my drafts are piling up with ideas that won’t leave me alone, so here we are, haha. I have watched ALOT of Eddie and Steve to try and grasp their characterizations. Crossing my fingers that isn’t in vain. Anyways, y’all are the judges of that! ;)

Enjoy! - Kristen <3

~*~

You’re not quite sure when it really started, but then again, what sane person could be? All the shit that’s been going down in Hawkins is supposed to be what shocks you, yet the fact of you ending up in a highly charged sexual relationship with both Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington - that wasn’t what anyone expected for a midwestern girl in a dizzying few weeks. And that’s who you had been before things began to shift and looks were exchanged. Was it a crippling fear leading to held hands, white knuckled grips nearly shredding flimsy bedsheets, or this irresistibly odd pull that connected you three together? It’s something you are not sure you’ll ever have the answer to.

Days began to bleed into one another, leaving behind worries about what others would think if they knew, rationality a passing memory. Everytime you gathered at Steve’s place or Eddie’s trailer, it became more heated than the last. Your introverted shell took a hit from each bruise Steve would paint across your thighs - an enriching deep red he’d use his mouth to clean with false apology, knowing you both fucking loved it. Eddie’s fondness fell into taking you hard enough to shatter some drywall behind Steve’s bed, fuck up his own bed, and render you unable to sit properly - leaving the two boys with cheshire-wide smirks at your shared friend group’s questioning. Eventually, your quieted persona broke apart in such a hungry manner that containing it wasn’t possible any longer.

Your parents had left you to watch the family pets and your one story home, some banquet in Indianapolis they were obligated to. You wasted no time in inviting your guys over, the first time you’d all be meeting at your place. Heavily tasked, you overly pampered yourself, in further detail, making sure your sheets were fresh, the beer was ice cold, and you were nice and prepared in… other ways. You used minimal makeup, a simple silk nightgown you took your last allowance payment to purchase, and your first real pair of lacy underwear. They were on their way to you by mere minutes…

~*~

You are giddy, cheeks kissed with a heat, as you watch the freshly shaved expanse of your thighs bounce against one another in eager anxiety. It seems like Hawkins can always provide a natural soundtrack for whatever-the-fuck is happening in your life, so a thunderstorm isn’t the least bit surprising to you. It’s calming, giving you the courage to approach the door upon seeing them roll up in Steve’s car outside. You sneak a peek through your mom’s maroon drapes, Eddie’s hands moving rapidly in front of Steve’s face, before Steve palms his forehead in frustration, motioning to his radio. They’re arguing over music again.

You roll your eyes and grow impatient, thumping your knuckles across the glass to attempt attention. Steve is the first to see your action, scoffing at Eddie, who points back at him to place blame. You flip them the double bird, letting the curtains drop, unlocking your front door and pulling it open, standing in front with your arms crossed. Fucking you, fucking each other - boys will still be pain in the ass boys. Ruining my sexy reveal plan… little bitches.

They’d already begun to climb from the car, insulting each other, that is, until they see you in the doorway. Like dogs trying to race for a bone, Steve and Eddie clamber through your dad’s rain soaked AstroTurf, crushing your mom’s newly planted flowers underneath their shoes, stopping breathless and wide eyed on your doorstep.

“You know,” You start, allowing your hands to press into a rest upon your hips. “I really don’t want to let you in here now.”

Eddie looks comical, Steve perplexed.

“If Harrington wasn’t such an uptight little shit, I don’t think you’d be pouting right now, Y/N.”

“Oh, great, blame it on me for nearly blowing out my eardrums. You’re a real stallion, Eddie.” Steve retorts in a biting sarcasm.

“I know I did not blow my last twenty dollars on this fucking piece of fabric for you two to argue over the radio again,” You pause, an after huff finishing your statement. “And by the way, Munson, I’m not pouting.”

Eddie grins, doing that damn swaying back and forth shit that he does, hands clasping together behind his back. You and Steve both watch that chain slap across worn black fabric-an automatic reaction. “Yes you are.”

“You have a shitty poker face, Y/N.” Steve butts in.

“You’re really pissing me off, I hope you both know that.” You’re trying to glare, but the beads of raindrops slicking Steve’s neck and dotting Eddie’s leather jacket are firing your stance. That gnawing ache is a sharp stab between your thighs, a signal to the way you’ve been feeling so possessively lustful towards them lately, without either man even knowing your libido’s full extent.

“You know what they say. It’s better to be pissed off than pissed on.” Eddie is practically giggling, that pearly white smile so damned big that you forget your irritation entirely, turning around and heading down the hallway to your bedroom.

Both boys exchange looks, a slight worry tinting Steve’s furrowed brow when he says, “Dude… really?” Leave it to Munson to still be cracking jokes when you’re breasts are heavily visible through the satin, your body language a little different than Steve has seen before.

“I didn’t mean anything by it…” Eddie slightly falters, pushing your front door closed and flipping its deadbolt.

~*~

When both boys venture to your room, they aren’t prepared for it. Lightly scented candles are lit on your desk, a greeting aroma that comforts them, your window open and your sheer pastel pink curtains are billowing out across your shoulder, which is moving along with your arm. Eddie’s teeth take hostage over his bottom lip, while Steve’s jugular tightens into a harsh swallow. You’re perched atop the window sill, nightgown around your waist, lace to the side, accompanied by two fingers easing in and out of your very wet cunt. You don’t let either partner get a word out, sliding a finger from yourself, a very noticeable shine causing Steve to adjust himself.

Eddie looks as if his willpower not to meet you at the window, undo his belt, slide your ass to the edge of the sill, lock your legs around his waist as he fucks you so hard you can’t form a coherent word for days-is dissipating rapidly. You hold that shining finger up to halt them.

“You’re wearing too much.” Is all you say.

They do that eye dart with the other, as if to communicate.

“Take. Them. Off.” You emphasize, leaving no leeway or patience.

Normally, Eddie would start bitching the second he is aware you have your music going. His teasing picks. But fuck if it’s not helping him shed every layer. Steve is silently doing the same, all that everyone is hearing is their own labored pants and the stirring squelch of your fingers. Eddie’s dark eyes are a glossy abyss, caving to blown pupils.

Steve is caught between staring at him to looking back at you. He is disheveled, that tremble snapping his wrist as he lowers his underwear, bare to your sights. His thick cock leaking and throbbing so bad he is on the verge of seeing stars. Eddie’s belt is undone is such a deliberately slow manner, that you catch Steve’s gone gaze to keep steady. It doesn’t help when Eddie slides those ring covered fingers beneath his boxer’s waistband, dragging his pants down in one, two-combo go, almost as if he’s caressing his thighs like the body of a guitar.

The tattoos littering his creamy skin have your mouth watering, plan nearly forgotten. Your fingers take a break, cunt clenching around them. You edge your teeth into the corner of your lip, a pinch so hard it breaks your skin. Eddie’s cock is in his hand, a rebellious challenge to your game. He is very aware you need him inside you. Shaking his head to purse his lips and blow off a strand of dark hair, the thin chain that contains his guitar pick is highlighted.

If you weren’t turned on beyond human comprehension, vision blurred from teary eyed want, it’d be funny that you and Steve moan in sync over that necklace. Your fingers give a harder press, leaving that tight and familiar pressure. You’re needy, floating, exposed.

“Come and undress me, please.” A little shyness leaks back out, your voice wavering on puddled words.

Steve is the first to seek you out, tapping your thighs up to press against his muscular waist, his thumb tilting your chin to meet his mouth in a slow and deliberate kiss, one that melts into a pathway to your neck.

More marks for later.

Steve is smiling against your skin, his left hand swatting yours from between parted thighs, easily hooking his digits into the lace and tugging as you unravel your limbs from their previous position around his waist. Your toes tip into dangle over your hardwood floor, lifting to help Steve get the flimsy fabric off, lewd strings of thick want stringing from you to the garment. He observes it, finger scraping the soaked crotch. “Jesus Christ, you’re already so fucking wet, baby.”

Steve is mewling out pet names, that’s how you know he’s a complete goner too. You still can’t speak, letting Steve. He’s not done yet, apparently. Pressing a lined touched down the valley of your breast beneath the gown, he rests his forehead to yours, that same hand that removed your panties hovering on your inner thigh. He can barely get the word out, but manages with a deep, “Yeah?”

You can’t close your eyes, don’t permit yourself to miss any moment. Nodding, you allow him to flatten his palm across your labia, absolutely destroying his hand with your slick, slapping the flesh a few times, making you shiver. He’s good at that. It’s when he takes two fingers and parts you, gathering a thick amount, that you whimper so loudly both men wonder if it’s too much. He flings the panties to the floor, looking hotly at your shared lover - Eddie Munson.

He’s a silhouette of sinful debauchery, hand gripping his erection, salivating for some instruction.

“Come here, Munson.” Steve shifts a little, presenting his soaked fingers to Eddie’s lips. The long haired rocker obliges, obscenely biting Steve’s digits into his mouth, sucking them dry, his hands wrapped around Steve’s wrist.

It’s a subtle depth they share, recently having ventured out into kissing one another. Steve was always more hesitant than Eddie, but Eddie had kissed males and females alike before you all hooked up. He was always patient, waiting. And as you watch Steve take Eddie by his neck’s nape, gripping a palmful of his long locks, their mouths smashing together hungrily - you admire, heart smitten. When they release, Eddie points at the floor, you slide off the window sill, letting him take you into his arms.

Eddie knocks a nuzzle with an easy knuckle graze against your cheek, bringing you into a kiss, his chest exhaling deeply, your arms lifting to give him access to stripping you completely, his warm flesh seeping through your nightgown, growing significantly over each piece of your flesh that gets uncovered. It falls to the floor. Satin, silk, whatever the fuck fabric it is. His fingers dance across the goosebumps that have appeared on your shoulders, just stroking, breaths unsteady. He dives into his usual hold, prepared to lift you onto the bed and place you on your back.

You shake your head, summoning that bravery you worked so hard to find. “Eddie go and lay down the bed.” Another laughable moment when your guys have such a shocked look on their face. Eddie does as told, resting his arms behind his head, tongue flat against his teeth. He’s at your complete and total mercy.

Lord help me… is this even real?

“Put a condom on him, Harrington. They’re in the drawer.” Your feet patter along the flooring, you slide a hand across Eddie’s thigh, teasing, smirking.

“Steve, if you don’t hurry up, man. I swear to fuck I’ll—“ Eddie tries, Steve cutting him off by making quick work of the task, securing the condom onto Eddie’s delicious length.

They are waiting on your next move, dark eyes expectant. Yeah, you can definitely do this. Your knees press into the bed as you climb into a straddle across Eddie’s thick thighs, your pussy dripping arousal that catches on his hipbone, making him squirm. You reach out for Steve’s hand, bringing it to cup you, giving him enough to coat the condom with, an aid for you. All four of their hands that have battled monsters, worked, played a guitar, yet they’re so gentle with you. It’s an empowering comfort, one that has you reaching back to take Eddie’s cock, nudging the head at your opening.

When he speaks, that honey soaked voice is deep, lost. It’s practically a whisper. “You sure you’re gonna be able to take me like this, Y/N?”

“What do you both think I’ve been preparing myself for?” And with that revelation, you sink down, eyes meeting Eddie’s, not breaking, even when your lids flutter wildly. You reach for Steve’s hand automatically, holding tightly for support.

Eddie inhales sharply, abdomen muscles flexing into a trembling series.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Eddie.” Your unshed tears have prickled the corners of your lids, slipping out. Damn if it doesn’t hurt like hell, stretching, sheathed, full. And you love every new sensation this position brings. Steve sees the tears first, slithering to swing his body around behind you, his cock pressed into your lower back, leaving behind a sopping wet spot. He reaches for your waist, one hand trailing down to part you the rest of the way, giving Eddie a full view of his cock being swallowed by your pussy.

The music on your cassette tape is climbing to the chorus, soothing your first assisted movement. Steve lays his chin on your shoulder and keeps his thumb pad over your clit, his thighs bumping your own. He helps you crest a riding rhythm over Eddie, moving with you, gaining stimulation from rutting against your backside. Eddie can’t take his eyes off you, dancing between Harrington, whom kisses your neck to your shoulder blade, finalizing his own fixated gaze on Eddie Munson.

Holy hell…

Steve’s help doesn’t go in vain, however, it only takes you a few more dipping movements until you’re on your own, hands falling back onto Eddie’s thighs, nails digging in, back arched, eyes now closed, in your own world that seeks out pleasure in shameless greed, a sole pearl of sweat descending beneath your breasts, hips rising and falling, taking. Eddie is balls deep in you and you know you won’t be able to walk for days, but you probably wouldn’t stop, even if someone came home. Steve lowers himself by Eddie, both mesmerized by you riding him into your mattress, speed picking up, the song’s beat blending into wind-whipped curtains. Eddie swears he’s having super human sight, as he is noticing everything in your room in hyper focus; Steve Harrington-hot as hell, a fucking saint for waiting to get off, a prime heroic example of that virtue called patience, biting his ripe lips, sharing looks that map out you and Eddie in a private perversion, you riding Eddie’s cock like the Queen angel herself, horns adorning your normal goddamned halo, your cassette player with that damned song, hell, even your girly curtains that have flowers on them.

His eyes roll back, cock swelling in the condom. He’s losing it, whining into a cry of heavy-hot jagged breaths. Your hands move back to Eddie's chest, vividly aware, you switch to yanking Steve into your embrace, a kiss so violent that you can feel that jawline knick your cheekbone on the way in. Breaking apart on swollen, damp mouths, you let yourself press flat across Eddie, breasts dragging along his inked chest, increasing the velocity of your thrusts. He’s a pitiful mess, clenching your waist with a feverish vice.

His breathing is exerted, reminding you how he looks when he’s playing a show or a solo for you and Steve. You tighten at the mental image, that invisible rubberband snapping, your resolve slashed apart. Your body is sprinkled with a hot red blush, thighs starting to shake. It doesn’t even take the normal touch you’d need to your clit to get off, no. Your mouth drops open in a silent cry, before you let out the loudest, downright embarrassing scream, birthed in your diaphragm- tear through your lungs and out of your mouth.

You don’t just cum. This unfamiliar feeling grows, invading you until it’s turned you inside out, and that tickling twist locks your muscles down, a gush of hot fluid coming from you and drenching Eddie, all the way down to the curls at the base of his dick.

“Fuck, fuck.” He coos, wound. Like a meek mouse, you fold, unable to hold yourself up, you collapse into your rockstar’s chest.

“Holy goddamned shit.” Steve pants, working a hand over himself, sliding back into his previous position behind you. You’re too weak to try and move on your own, sensitive. And you know Eddie is trying like hell to stay still and hold back.

Mere minutes have felt like hours, and you are grateful to Steve for helping your hips move again, as Eddie is mentally encouraged to force his hips into rough pumps from beneath. You’re burying your face into the inked expanse of Eddie’s chest, your cheek close to that guitar pick accessory. Eddie. He’s throbbing inside you and it’s clear he’s coming.

“Fuck, look at me, little girl.” He demands, zoned out completely that he isn’t even realizing how he’s just awakened a new kink in both you and Steve.

He pries you off his neck, cupping the back of yours… watching. It’s a moment. He reaches up with his other hand, his thumb caressing Steve’s cheekbone, running through his hair, the three of you just… observing, soaking in the other in one group motion. When Eddie comes it’s a brand new rift that has opened, one that none of you were aware could exist.

Eddie’s jugular constricts against a harsh gulp, lips slippery, eyes hauntingly beautiful in their bliss, and you are suddenly brimmed with warmth as he fills the condom full, breathing patterns stuttering, leaving the air blanketed in his lowly rasps. Steve helps you ride Eddie out, before you fall forward again, Eddie’s heartbeat thumping erratically in vibrations across your sternum and boobs. You ruffle your fingers throughout his sweaty mane, helping him catch his bearings. He’s spent for the moment, but you’re twitching, pulsating again, needing more.

Steve brushes your hair off your shoulder, aware you need a break and he needs you. Eddie, to his credit, recovers enough to help Steve slide you off him and onto your back, drenched and shaking. Eddie passes a fresh condom, using his teeth to open it, Steve barely able to get it on without combusting. No one vocalizes much right now.

Eddie ties off his own rubber, discarding it in the trash bin beside your nightstand, easing onto his side to watch you spread your legs wide open for Harrington to slope down into. You lock them around Steve’s upper back, hushing his worry you’ll be way too sore from all this. He doesn’t waste anymore time, letting Eddie guide his cock halfway, their joined hands pushing Steve into your sensitive walls. Ever the handsy man that Munson can be, he caresses the expanse of Steve’s back as he moves, tickles your ankles, swiping his fingers back and forth, switching to the cool metal his rings bring from knuckled brushes. You’re still outrageously wet that the sounds in your room are disgustingly whoreish, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s hand does pay attention to your neglected clit, which has gained some stimulation from Steve’s chest hovering into strokes, every time he presses back inside you.

“How about you two give me another show, huh? Think you can come together?” Eddie’s got that tone from the furthest pits down that it can come from. It’s hotter than hot, and you’re ready for more, Steve sure he’ll pass out soon if he doesn’t have any.

You let Steve take you harder than you can remember feeling him. His shoulder blades twist and shift to match his body’s chase. You hold tight, purposely clenching your pussy around him. It takes Eddie one hard press to your clit and a rather assertive smack to Steve’s ass and you both tip over the precipice, moaning out gibberish and pleas, rocking out every last bit of pleasure. Steve Harrington’s firm and round ass clenching upon his release, is a sight Eddie Munson will never get tired of.

Your tits heaving heavily, nipples hard, Eddie Munson won’t ever forget that image either. Steve collapses onto you, seeking solace on the swell of your bosom with a rosy cheek. You rub his sweaty, freckled back, your thighs beginning a shaking set of quakes you don’t even attempt to reign in. Eddie lays back down beside you two, pushing Steve’s chestnut locks off his forehead, giving you the very same treatment. Calming down in a minute’s ticking, Steve rolls to your other side, sandwiching you into the middle.

No one speaks, basking in the glow. That is, until Eddie breaks the silence. He would be the one to see it first. He runs a finger beside your right thigh on the white sheet, expecting you and Steve, who give him identical “What?” looks, to catch on quicker.

“Haven’t seen this come from her since we popped her cherry, Harrington.” Eddie smirks.

A stomach swooping humiliation settles in. Sure enough, right beside where your thigh was previously dangling above-is a small, but very present spot of bright crimson.

“Shit. This is fucking embarrassing.” Your bubble is bursting, your obsessive need to clean and cover up coming out. Eddie grasps you around the waist, shaking his shaggy hair.

“It’s not embarrassing, Y/N. It just means you won’t be able to sit down in public for the next week.”

Even Steve, the worrisome lover, is taking pride in it.

“Wonder if anyone will notice?” He joins Eddie.

But you know, whether everyone else can sense something or not, that you very much will. There’s always an open window to the truth, and that’s not just your window letting in a heavier storm.

I’ve fucking fallen in love with these two hot messes.

~*~

Tagging: @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson & @lovelylangdonx (Idk who else to tag. Hope y’all don’t mind?)

[galaxythreads]

help! I need to plan a multi-chapter fic and I don't know how

Step 1. fic idea

step 2. panik

step 3. fic magically pours out of your trauma.

Jokes aside, planning a fic can be just as intense as planning out an original novel. You know you want certain things IN the fic, or maybe just a base idea, but what goes in between those pieces is tricky and can be vague and unknown.

STEP ONE: The idea

Start with an idea. This could be a paragraph you were just playing around with, a headcanon that you really want to work on, a prompt idea. Anything. It does not need to be a coherent story plan to begin with. You don’t need to know the beginning end or middle. Just this idea. 

STEP TWO: Brainstorm

Take the idea and plop it down somewhere you can plan. A notebook, a doc, a tumblr draft. Wherever works. You need a place to put your thoughts. 

- put your Original Thought, or paragraph or whatever, down. 

-With this Thought, what else do you want to put into the story? How can you bridge from this point? What OTHER Thoughts have you had about fics you’ve read, written, or just thought about that you think you can put into this fic? This Thought doesn’t stand alone despite how much you think it does. 

FOR EXAMPLE. This was the Thought I had for a current fic I’m working on for the Avengers and Loki: 

-Loki didn't know he was mind controlled, but Clint does.

That was it. That was the basis. And then I thought about that and was like. Okay. So what else could come off of this fic?

Then I sat down and I put a bunch of bubble ideas around this one. Like “Okay, well what if Loki’s mind control had lasting effects, not for clint, but for Loki?” and, “I read this fic where an Asgardian civil war broke out over Loki being imprisoned and that was super cool. How could I do something like that?” or “what would happen if THOR went missing instead of Loki?” and “I really like Natasha/clint so I’ll put that in here” and “I think that the scepter was vastly underused as a plot device, so what if we throw that in here, too” and “I have a this headcanon about the Chitauri that Thanos rescued Loki from them” and “What if Frigga was even worse than Odin in some ways as a parent?” 

It’s like when you write an essay and they make you do the brainstorm of ideas branching off from your topic prompt. That is LITERALLY what you are doing, but it’s for fun. 

STEP THREE: Rough outline

The next thing I DO, and this might not work for everyone (of course all of this might not work for everyone and that’s fine), is to outline the fic in a really rough, terrible way. 

So it’s more like a “I’ve gathered all my thoughts, great. Now it’s time to try and put them into a narrative.” 

Then you kind of jumble it together. Where the Original Thought goes is up to you. 

Here’s a bit of the rough outline for the Loki and Clint fic I mentioned earlier. 

-5 months after Loki gets rescued, Thor goes missing between NY and visiting Jane

It takes Three Days before they realize what happened. 

-The Avengers start looking for Thor upon Jane’s request, and Loki is surprisingly willing to help them.

-They can find no evidence of where Thor went

-One week after Thor goes missing, SHEILD calls them to let them know the chitauri woke up. 

-Loki is apprehensive about this. 

-Clint is too, though he couldn’t say why

-They go to the SHIELD facility where the Chitauri are, somewhere in New Mexico, and drag Loki with them. 

-Fury says that he doesn’t think the two things -- Thor going missing and the Chitauri waking up -- are related. 

-Says that there’s a group that escaped from a different facility and they have pictures of the Chitauri in NY. 

-Loki is not happy with the fact that Thor may have been taken by the Chitarui, and it’s fairly obvious to anyone who watches them. 

-Loki asks to speak with the Chitauri. Fury says that’s a dumb idea, but Loki’s like, literally, what do I have to go back to?

-Clint realizes that he can understand the convo and is immensely disturbed by this

-The Chitauri taunt Loki openly about Thanos, and neither confirm nor deny that they have Thor

-They threaten Loki pointedly and Clint finds the situation strange

-They leave for the day and try to figure out what to do about Thor. The Chitauri escape and attempt to claim Loki after beating him brutally. The Avengers come after him, and Clint stays to help Bruce clean up Loki.

-Loki poisoned by chitauri and having nightmares 

-Clint realizes that he recognizes the scars on Loki’s back from dreams and is like “???”

-Loki’s like “np” 

-Clint’s like “SoME ProBlem!” 

-Clint doesn’t tell Loki that he recognizes them, and Loki doesn’t suspect so

-The Avengers go to Jane’s house to look for signs on where Thor went and Clint sorta expects Loki to treat Jane like crap, but he just ignores her.

-They find evidence of magic around the house, and Loki says that the possibility of Thor being taken by the Chitauri is low. The Chitauri don’t have a teleportation device of their own. 

-Draws them back to square one.

-Fury suggests the possibility of it being an on-earth person. No small number of people who would like to use Thor for anything. Powersource, norse god, etc.

Anyone who has actually read the fic is aware that the actual story doesn’t go in this direction anymore. But that’s kind of the point. The plan shouldn’t be so rigid that you aren’t willing to evolve it with the actual story. 

STEP FOUR: ACTUAL PLAN

Personally, this is what works for me for an Actual Plan rather than a distorted rough narrative plan. 

- I decide on how many chapters I want in the fic. Usually, about 12 because my chapters are lengthy. Then I set out a long line of numbers.

1.

2.

3.

etc. 

and I plan out exactly what is supposed to happen in that chapter all the way out to the end, using the rough narrative plan as a basis. Think of these as summaries. You don’t NEED to put down dialog or exactly who is doing what all the time, but you should be able to picture the scene(s) in your head. 

AND

There should, ideally, be at least ONE thing you are excited to write in every chapter, or writing the fic will be a burden on your soul. 

OUTLINE FOR THE WEEPING SIREN CHAPTER 4

-End chapter 3.

-Thor tells them the next morning to gather their strength because they’re going deeper into the woods to find the girl, says that she can’t be far.  THEY LEAVE THE HORSES IN THE VILLAGE. They stay overnight for another three days without successes, only faint moaning and all of them are exhausted. 

-Thor says that they should stay there, and he and Prince Tjan are going to go hunting.

-They stay where they are, and set up the tents as Loki attempts to start the fire without much success

-The others teasing him, Loki’s kind of like “I’m done!” and starts to walk off, but then the Weeping Siren attacks.

^^^ this was, side note, the original scene I wrote for this fic. 

-All of them panic and scramble to make any sort of defense against the Weeping Siren with very little success. 

-Hogan gets dragged off and all of them panic, attempting to search for them, but feel sorcery wash over them, freezing them in place. Sif screams, and Loki is the only one to escape somewhat. Tries for an attack, and the Weeping Siren catches him and Loki pleads with her to spare the WT and Sif’s lives. 

-WT and Sif are startled. 

-Loki insists that he’s more valuable, he’s the second prince of Asgard, he’ll make a good ransom. 

-The Weeping Siren says something like “you are weary, child. You do not think clearly. This is salvation.” 

-And then she hits Loki over the head with a rock or something, and Sif and the WT panic. Loki crumples into unconsciousness, and the Weeping Siren gathers him into her arms like a lost pup 

-Puts the rest of them to sleep.

-end chapter 4. 

The benefits of doing it on a chapter by chapter basis is that you -- generally -- know what’s going to happen in the fic later and can foreshadow and plan accordingly. It’s not some big mess that you hopelessly untangle yourself from. you’re less likely to have narrative inconsistences. AND. you can watch yourself get closer to the end of the fic which is just a boost of serotonin. Because you know how many chapters there are (ish) so when you get to chapter ten you’re like “Oh! Great! Two more chapters to go!”

(And then it turns out to be three but that’s okay we all enjoy suffering anyway) 

if you really don’t want to do a chapter by chapter plan, here’s what I recommend instead: 

KNOW THE MIDDLE. THE BEGINNING. AND THE END. 

Fill in the bits in-between with “I would like this to happen about here” and kind of work your way from there. 

STEP FIVE: WRITE. Adjust plan as needed. 

It is extremely unlikely that you will write the entire fic without adjusting your plan once. You may get halfway through the story and realize that it’s not going to work this way, so then you have to restart the plan from that point on. I did that with the Loki and Clint mentioned above a few weeks ago and I feel like it’s much better now than it was originally. 

Honestly, most of my fics I start planning AFTER I’ve written the first chapter in it’s entirety, which is why I’ll post a fic and then not update it for like four months much to everyone’s frustration. XD 

Hopefully this made sense, and please feel free to add any thoughts on how you plan your fics successfully or any questions you may have. <3 

[skinnyducky]

tattooed heart // v.h.

Hey y’all! This is just something I’ve had in my drafts that I forgot to finish. Since I started school this week + I’m getting my wisdom teeth removed, the updates are going to come a little bit slower than usual, but they’ll still be coming, so yuh! Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1175, edited

WARNING: nothing but pure unadultered fluff.

---------

There were many things you loved about Vinnie. You loved his rings, his hair, and last but not least, his tattoos. To say they fascinated you would be an understatement; you were practically entranced by them. You didn’t have much ink yourself, but him however, his body was covered from head to toe…and you loved it. There were moments where you two would be chilling and you’d spend the time tracing the lines of his tattoos, asking him the stories and meanings behind of them. For you, it just made you love him even more. And for him to know that you adored that part of him, it just solidified how in love he was with you.

With that being said, to show his adoration for you, he decided to get something new added to his forearm. This time, a simple heart. But this wasn’t just any heart…it was heart with your name right in the middle. Many of his friends ridiculed him and said he was a fool, that he’d be stuck with a reminder of you if the relationship ever went south. But he didn’t care to focus on a possible future; he was living in the present, and you were his ‘right now.’

To not ruin the surprise, he made sure not to disclose the tattoo with people he knew would spill the beans. At that, when you questioned where he was going in the middle of the day, he told you he was going to go look at a car. But, in reality he was spending his time down at the tattoo shop. Luckily for him, you didn’t ask too many questions after that. He made sure to wear a baggy short-sleeve shirt so that you wouldn’t notice the newly added ink when he walked into the Hype House. Thankfully, you didn’t.

You rushed up to him and engulfed him in the tightest hug. “I missed you.” You smiled, pecking his cheek.

He returned the gesture and said, “I missed you more.”

“Impossible.” You replied, letting him go. “How was it?”

“How was what?”

You furrowed your brows. “Uhm, the car you went to go see. Was it as good as you said it was?”

He mentally slapped himself for forgetting his own lie. “Oh, the car! Uh, not really. Turns out it needed some heavy work, and I didn’t feel like spending a bag on it.”

“That sucks. I’m sure you’ll find another one like it.”

Vinnie nodded and followed you into the kitchen. Everyone was gathered around the island, too invested in their own business to notice you or your boyfriend had entered the room. It was quite loud due to Calvin and Paper having a screaming match over a brownie. It didn’t help that everyone else was shouting to calm them down, thus making it even more noisy. Vinnie scrunched his nose and covered his ears. You took notice of this and laughed.

“Wanna go out back?” You said to him in his ear.

He nodded and you two rushed to the backyard. You went over to the makeshift canopy bed that was hanging from a tree and beckoned Vinnie to sit next to you. Once he did, you stretched your legs across his lap and his arm snaked its way across your back and rested on your hip. The two of you sat there in silence, just enjoying the Los Angeles night sky. You kept your eyes set on the silver moon, occasionally moving them to admire the dots of stars that danced around the celestial body. Vinnie, however, took this time to admire you. He studied your features as the moonlight reflected off of them, highlighting your beauty. He grinned to himself, wondering how he was so lucky enough to have someone like you. He thought about his decision of getting your name tattooed onto him, and at that moment he knew…he did the right thing.

He was pulled out his thoughts as he felt your fingers slide up and down his arm.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but I really love your tattoos.” You spoke, making him laugh.

“Thank you, babe.”

You sighed in bliss. “So, what else did you get?”

Vinnie nearly choked on his spit as those words left your mouth. He turned to look at you with wide eyes, confused as to how you knew about his trip to the parlor. He made sure that you wouldn’t find out. It sent him into a frenzy trying to figure out how you could’ve known.

“Who told?”

You reached into your hoodie pocket and pulled out your phone. “I think you forgot that paparazzi exist.”

You flipped your phone and showed him the circulating picture of him leaving the tattoo shop. He groaned, a whine escaping his mouth shortly after.

“You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Why? We’re you cheating on me?” You joked.

“What? No, I wasn’t cheating on you. I just wanted my new tattoo to be a surprise.”

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you want me to know about you getting a new tattoo? You’ve always told me when you were getting one. Why is this tattoo different?”

For as smart as you are, he was surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. Nonetheless, part of him was still glad there was still an ounce of surprise left. He gave you a small grin and reached for his right sleeve. He raised it up to revealing the very thing he’d been hiding from you.

You studied the piece of art for a second, still confused as to why he’d hide it.

“You got a heart. That’s cute. Why’d you get it?”

He scoffed, “Read the name in the middle, Y/n.”

You followed his orders, your eyes shooting towards the middle. The minute you saw your name, you felt your heart burst. Tears welled up in your eyes as you traced over it through the plastic wrap.

“Vinnie.” You whispered, trying to contain your sobs.

“I got it because you really mean a lot to me. From the moment we met, I knew you were the one and I’m very lucky enough to have you be apart of my life. Regardless of whether we’re endgame or whatever, I’m just glad to have you.” He said, pulling you closer into him.

At this point, you were a mess. You attempted to wipe your tears with the sleeves of your hoodie, but there was no point. They just kept coming.

You sniffed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I’m glad to have you.”

The two of you shared a passionate kiss before you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the effects of his loving embrace. This time, he was the one admiring the moon while you were admiring him, specifically his new ink. It brought a smile to your face knowing that out of all the people in his life, your name was the one on his tattooed heart.

[keichan]

Firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A collections of firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A/N: 

I’ve had the idea of this story in my drafts forever now, but I sat down yesterday and finally brought it to life! I have never wrote for Sakusa before, but I hope that you guys enjoy my personification of him!

word count: 7.2k!

warnings: vomiting, nsfw content that will be italicized, swearing?

Please interact with this story! I’m restarting my blog back up and I lost a lot of moots! Send me asks and whatnot!

The first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi was when he silently strolled down the hallway in elementary school. He had a blank stare at all times. Never strayed too close to any of the other children. A gloomy looking child that you did not particularly want to approach. His hands remained glued to his side and looked to be sulking. He blended into the crowd but if you paid enough attention, he barely stood out. He crossed your mind for the slightest second before you were sucked back into conversation with your friends.

-

The first time you heard his voice was when he was talking to another boy in your grade level. Who you found out was his cousin. Their interaction was quiet and somewhat dull. His cousin, Motoya, asked if he wanted to go to an after school activity with him. Sakusa nodded briefly and said “sure”. His voice was quiet and bored. You wondered as you walked past the boys what they were talking about, however, you were quickly distracted yet again and proceeded to move forward without a second thought.

-

The first interaction between the two of you was your third year of middle school. Sakusa Kiyoomi was nothing but a background character in your life. You ever so often saw him since the two of you were in different classes. However, you shared a class with Motoya so it wasn’t too rare to see the boy. 

You walked out of class upon dismissal, but hung around campus with your friends, knowing that your parents were at work and it was redundant to return so early. It was an unanimous decision to go to the convenience store outside of campus to grab a quick bite with the chore money that took a few weeks to rack up.

Walking outside of the gym a volleyball rolled to your feet. You picked it up before looking to your right to see who it belonged to. Sakusa Kiyoomi walked calmly over to you with his  hands  at  his side.  There was no one else in the gym. He was playing by himself.

He came to a halt, looking at you expectedly. You fidgeted the ball in your palms before asking. “Are you practicing all alone?”  He nodded curtly with a deadpan expression that said give me the ball. 

“I see.” You tossed him the ball gently before following your friends that have already walked ahead. 

At the convenience store you grabbed things you thought Sakusa may have liked.

“Why are you grabbing so much? Also, I thought you didn’t like daifuku.” Aya commented as she browsed the shelf next to you. Your nose scrunched up. “I’m just craving it.” You shrugged her off. She didn’t reply as she grabbed a carton of apple juice. 

All of you checked out and parted ways in front of the store. It wasn’t long before you peeked your head into the gym to see Sakusa slamming  the ball against the wall continuously. He was roughly the same height as you, but each time he struck the ball, there was an undeniable force behind it. 

You took your shoes off, outside of the gym before clearing your throat nervously.

The boy caught the ball as it ricocheted off the wall. His black curls stuck messily to his forehead and he turned to you with a confused expression. Holding up the plastic bag with one hand,  you offered him a small smile. 

“Looked like you were working hard, so I brought this for you.” 

He blinked at you. Not a word. 

“I can just leave it somewhere if you’d like. I just have to-”

“I was actually getting kind of hungry.” He said quietly. He walked to the edge of the gym and sat down. You followed his lead quietly. Upon sitting down, you opened the bag,  preparing to dump  everything on the floor before he raised a hand to stop you. 

“The floor is rather dirty, I would prefer you not to do that.” He said plainly “Please.” he added. You nodded and opened the bag towards him so he could get his pick. Luckily for you he went straight for the daifuku. He meticulously unwrapped it and began to munch silently. You followed suit and you began to eat a custard-filled bread roll. 

“Sakusa, right?” You turned your head to the boy. “Kyosuke?” You faltered.

He shook his head. “Kiyoomi. And you?”

“L/N F/N.” You answered. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

“What high school are you going to try to go to?” 

“Itachiyama.”

“Really? I want to go there as well. Maybe we can study together for the entrance exams together.”

“I’m going to get in on a sports recommendation since I’m on the volleyball team here.” He said nonchalantly as he flattened the snack’s wrapper on his thigh. You nodded. His curtness didn’t particularly bother you. 

“Fair enough.” You brushed off your skirt and began to make an exit towards the gym. You began to slip your shoes on outside of the door before waving over to him. “Let me know if you change your mind about studying. I’m in the same class as your cousin. Keep the rest of the snacks. Work hard.”

-

Roughly two weeks later Sakusa Kiyoomi was waiting outside of class 3-B. Ignoring Motoya he approached you. “Let’s study for entrance exams.” Motoya looked at you oddly and tailed the two of you as Sakusa lead you to the library in silence.

You sat in front of the curly haired boy, pulling out your journals and folders excitedly sliding them towards Sakusa. Motoya sat beside him, earning a subtle glare from Kiyoomi.

“I looked at everything they’ve made available for students who are applying, organized it, and color coded it. I have a plan to get in. 

Sakusa carefully eyed over your notes as he skimmed the pages. Your handwriting was incredibly neat. Everything was so organized that even an idiot could get into Itachiyama. Not that he was thinking that you were stupid by any means.

That was the first time you saw Sakusa smile because of you.

-

It was now your first year at Itachiyama Academy. You walked through the gates of the school sandwiched between Sakusa and Motoya. Somehow the three of you managed to be in the same class.

As the semester progressed, you began to settle in a routine with the boys. You would sit at practices, reading books. After they finished, you would all study at someone’s house and part ways. 

It was dipping into the summer. Tokyo subtly rose in temperature as the rainy season commenced. 

Sakusa stood outside of your home with an umbrella since he was fully aware that you refused to bring one to school any time that it rained. He looked down to his cellphone. You were always punctual so it didn’t make sense to him that you weren’t outside yet. He knocked on the front door to your family home. No answer.

He used the spare key under the plant to go inside. He propped the umbrella against the door and took his shoes off before making his way upstairs. You weren’t in your bed but he could hear someone gagging in the bathroom.

His face contorted into disgust at the thought, but proceeded towards the room. He opened the bathroom door to see you hunched over the toilet. Your hair pooled over your shoulders going forward as you choked on your own vomit. Sobs quietly echoed the room. 

He cautiously moved forward and gathered your hair in his hand. He turned his head away from your body to cover his distaste for the situation that he found himself in.  You jumped startled in place before you started vomiting again. 

“Sorry, I didn’t text you. I’ve been here for hours.” Your voice was incredibly weak.

“I wish you took care of yourself. Then things like this wouldn’t happen. Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice croaked. Sakusa flinched at that. He knew the feeling all too well.

“You know if you used an umbrella in the rain you wouldn’t get sick. Plus you’ve been pulling all nighters with school for no reason. Stop overexerting yourself.”

“Shut up.” You groaned. “Go to school. I’ll take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes. He grabbed a hair tie from under your sink and tied your hair back to the best of his ability before leaving the room. Going downstairs he began to make hot green tea with honey, a glass of water, and cut up an apple, your favorite fruit, and grabbed a mask out of his backpack and put it on before returning to the bathroom. You were leaning against the wall, your features were flushed as beads of sweat developed along your forehead.

Sakusa sighed as he squatted in front of you. 

“Drink this. Rehydrate. Put some food in your stomach.” 

“Go to school Sakusa.” You muttered as you placed the cup to your lips gently.

Sakusa began washing his hands into the sink, ignoring you.

“You ought to go lie down so your body can repair itself.” He turned around before gathering the cups and the bowl of fruit from you. He placed it on your bedside table before he felt a weight collide with his back. He turned suddenly to catch your body.

“Sorry, I must be really weak right now.” A laugh barely escaped your lips. You were face to face with him as he supported you up. All he did was nod before he gently lowered you onto the bed, placing you under the sheets.

He walked over to the bathroom and found a small towel. A sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. He already had known that you were overdoing it academically, but now it finally showed physically. He didn’t understand you sometimes.

He returned to your room once more to see that you were out cold. He used the cloth to gently dab the sweat off of your face before folding it inside out and resting it on your forehead entirely. Sakusa supposed that it would be alright to skip school that day to help his friend out.

“Thanks, Kiyoomi.” The words poured quietly from your lips. His head jerked up suddenly

That was the first time you didn’t call him by his surname.

-

“Okay hear me out. Yes, you’re insanely talented at volleyball. No, I am not telling you how to play, BUT I think that if you approach the AB attack that you guys have been working on this way, I think that you can achieve it somewhat better.” You shoved your diagram that you drew out to Kiyoomi. His eyes scanned over everything. You flipped the page in front of him. 

“This is the way that you’ve been doing it, but I think that with your spiking range, you wouldn’t have to exert yourself and overextend yourself from this side of the court.”

Sakusa laughed pulling your notebook closer to himself. 

“This is actually genius. How did you know I couldn’t get it?”

“You’ve been spending more time practicing solo than normal so I just paid a little more attention when I’ve been able to come in and watch.”

“I really appreciate this! Do you mind?” You shook your head. “It’s all yours. I have some other ideas in there as well since nationals are coming up.”

He giddily slid it into his backpack before checking his phone. 

“Shit. I didn’t realize how late it was. The subways are probably packed by now.” He groaned.

You slung your bag over your shoulder. The crowds outside were moving meticulously outside. A sigh escaped your lips. You turned to Sakusa as he hooked a mask over each ear with a gloomy expression.

The two of you walked out of the cafe and headed towards the JR line. The crowd was astonishingly hard to walk through. Well, it was easy for Saksua since he could see over the sea of people. You reached out for his sleeve and managed to grab his hand. He looked back and gave you a weary acknowledgement and continued to tread forward. You barely managed to get into the train car with him. Your fingers tangled with his as you were shoved into his side. You looked up to see his eyebrows furrowed and expression darkened.. This definitely isn’t the first time that Saksusa had been unfortunate enough to get on the trains with rush hour. 

“You good, Kiyoomi?” You tugged on his arm gently as you whispered. He nodded looking down at you. A man beside you accidentally shoved you forward. Sakusa quickly laced his fingers in yours before he anchored you back to his side. You squeeze his hand gently as a quiet thanks.

In roughly ten minutes the doors opened to your stop. Sakusa led the way, weaseling the two of you outside of the train station. He let out a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs onto the open street.

“Much better.” he mumbled. You absentmindedly followed him to his house as he continued to hold your hand.

“Kiyoomi, you know you can go ahead and let go now.” He froze in his tracks and looked down to your hands and returned his gaze to your face.

“Apologies.” He said before he let go. His hand returned to his side.

“I think I’m going to call it a night here. I’m going to Motoya’s to study the notes. I’ll text you if I have any questions.” He raised a hand to bid farewell and walked to the direction of his home. 

Your eyes traveled down to the palm of your hand. You studied it. Each finger as you rotated it. With a subtle shrug, you turned to the opposite direction and made your way home.

That was the first time you held hands with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

-

“What do you mean I can’t braid your hair for a game? It’s getting longer and it would look adorable. Right, Motoya?” You twirled one of Sakusa’s curls gently in your finger. Motoya glanced up from his phone laughing. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“ Don’t support her. You’re going to make her think that she’s unstoppable.” Sakusa groaned and thudded his head against the table. 

“Can I do it for fun though?” You whined as your ran your hands through his hair.

He sunk in his chair in defeat. “Fine.”

You excitedly stood up and got to work. 

After a few minutes you were finished. His hair was barely short enough for it to stick into a little poof in the back. You quickly took out your phone and snapped a quick selfie with your back camera. You laughed at the photo as Sakusa grabbed at it.

“I didn’t know that you were going to take a picture of me, you ass! Delete it!” 

“Nah, this is too good! Kiyoomi I really think you should do this for a game! You look precious!”  

You quickly ran over to the couch next to Motoya, showing him the off guard picture you got of the two of them. The two of you were in hysterics. Sakusa ran over to the couch to join the two of you. Placing an arm around your shoulder he broke into laughter as well.

Lose hair flowed on the sides of his face. His eyes squinted shut as his laughs filled the room.

“You ought to delete that picture though, seriously.”

You shook your head at him. 

“This is too good. I might just send it to your whole team.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

After some time, the three of you settled down and watched a movie. You rested your head on his shoulder. His arm never left your side. The three of you passed out cold. 

Motoya’s mother laughed at the view she had of the three of you as she took her shoes out of the door. Her own son was sprawled out on the end of the couch, snoring the night away. Kiyoomi’s head rested on the couch. Tufts of hair were popping out of the braid. His arms loosely wrapped around you. Your head rested against his chest and your arms rested around his stomach.

She laughed quietly to herself, leaving the kids to sleep.

This was the first time that you fell asleep on Sakusa Kiyoomi.

-

“What do you mean that you didn’t have a good time at the camp? It’s literally for the Olympics!” You had your hands on your hips as you stared at Saksua. He sulked in your kitchen chair. He came over as soon as he had gotten back from camp.

“I do not understand how Shiratorizawa lost. Kageyama Tobio wasn’t necessarily an extraordinary feat to watch-”

“You do understand that there’s a reason why he got invited there as well, right?”

“I’m trying to be realistic here.”

“Well since both schools are going to nationals, maybe you can play them in the bracket. You’re the number two ace in the country because you worked hard Kiyoomi. I don’t care if some brat from Miyagi rubbed you the wrong way. You need to get over it and do your best. You and Motoya leave in two weeks.”

The two of you had spent the last hour bickering of his experience. Sakusa had a negative thing to say about almost every player that was there.

“If I want to analyze my potential opponent then I think you should allow me to. You’re not playing on the court whatsoever so I think you should keep your opinions to yourself about this situation.”

“Kiyomi, I’m literally the one who has helped you get to where you are now. I’ve spent hours of my own freetime, even getting physically ill coming up with ways to help you and Motoya improve your skills to be better players-”

“But nobody asked you to do that.” He glared at you. You falter at what to say next.

“I did it because you two are my friends. And I want you to succeed.” Each word articulated from your mouth excruciatingly slow. As if you were questioning yourself.

“You have a lot to say for someone who has never played the game before.” Sakusa snapped at you.

“Get out.” 

“What?”

“Get out of my house. You do not talk to me like that here.” You made your way to the front door, holding it open.

“Out Kiyoomi.”

“I think we’re having a little miscommunication.” He rose from his chair. He hands beared out to you as he stepped towards you cautiously.

“No. Grab your bag. Put your shoes on and leave. I understood with clarity everything you just said to me. Now I’m asking you to leave. You said everything you wanted to.”

Sakusa’s head did not hang low as your gaze pierced through him. He slung his back over his shoulder and walked towards you. His height towered over you before he bent down, slipping his shoes over his heels.

He walked out without another word. 

That was the first fight you had with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

-

In the next two weeks you didn’t walk to school with the boys, you did not study with them, you did not watch practice, you didn’t use breaks at school to visit their classrooms. Anytime Motoya had reached out, you politely avoided him. If Sakusa did it was like he wasn’t even there.

Nationals were now upon the boy’s volleyball team. You followed the group solemnly to the bus.  You had signed up as an official volunteer and there wasn’t any way to necessarily get out of it since you had already been excused from the school days.

You sat alone on the bus. Far away from your two friends. The ride was short. Upon arrival, you carried the medical bag to the team’s designated area for the day.

It was a clash of teams mingling at the entrance of the arena. Not one member of the team had made it to the area yet. You turned to see Sakusa’s standing in the corner of the room. His forehead creased and his chin tucked towards his chest. There were too many people for him. Motoya was mingling with random  teams. You let out a small sigh and made your way to the designated area. 

A hand gently rested on your shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Kiyoomi asked. He towered over you in height. You couldn’t see his face due to the mask, but he radiated stress. You nodded and sat next to him in the hallway.

The apology was quick, sweet, and straight to the point. You graciously accepted and it wasn’t any worry at all. 

You could never truly be mad at him.

You continued to help the boy’s volleyball team until they lost the tournament.

You waited on the side of the court for the boys to come off. However, Sakusa was approached by fans and reporters. 

You stood patiently on the other side of the toom. The opposing team’s captain approached you. He shyly flirted with you. Sakusa watched from afar as he continued to chat with the reporter. 

This was the first time Sakusa Kiyoomi felt jealousy.

-

You, Kiyoomi, and Motoya stood side by side posing for pictures for your families. High school diplomas proudly in hand.

Kiyoomi graciously slipped away from everyone for a brief moment. His parents were fawning over the fact that he got accepted into college on a sports scholarship. Same with Motoya. Your parents were openly wondering what college you would choose to go to. You got accepted to five different ones, one of them the same as Kiyoomi.

You and Motoya bid your parents a farewell and began to leave the school together for one last time. Kiyoomi stood at the gates waiting patiently for the two of you. His blazer now slung over one shoulder, he used his other arm to gently rest around your shoulder.

“I’ll see you at the dinner, Motoya. I’m going to walk Y/N home.” 

Motoya dipped his head in acknowledgement before parting ways.

You and Kiyoomi laughed and reminisced over the last three years. The late nights studying. Hanging around each other's houses. Him keeping you company as you read your books at cafes. The cat you two found outside of the school your first year. The god awful game of telephone pictionary that almost got the three of you suspended your second year of school. The failed attempts of learning how to play volleyball in third year. It seemed that all of the memories so precious to your heart were coming to a cease.

Your laughs faltered as you approached the gate of your home. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave for Osaka.” You laughed nervously as his arm slid off of your shoulder. He unconsciously moved a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Easy. Just go to the same school as me. It’s not that difficult of a decision.”

You laughed. “You know I haven’t even begun to choose the college I want to go to yet. I haven’t weighed the pros and cons of each school. Plus you got a full ride.” You sighed.

“Well a pro is that I’m there. I think that’s enough.” He tilted his head at you.

You let out a short laugh before turning your head away from him. “If only it was that simple.” You wondered aloud.

“I have to see how good the program is for what I want to do. I know that they’re the top in the country for it but will it really benefit me? What if financial aid doesn't end up coming through and I have student loans out the ass? What if housing is full? If I don’t have anywhere to live?” 

Your thoughts were cut off by Kiyoomi stifling a laugh. He used a single hand to cover his mouth as he looked down at you. You shoved his chest playfully. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You worry too much for someone who’s so smart.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He ran his hand through his hair before he rested it on his neck, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how pretty I think you are.” He reached over and cupped your face. His long slender fingers gently tucked the rest of your hair behind your ear. He felt your skin heat up below his hand and laughed.

“Are you trying to be funny because you’re really bad at it.”

Before you could even react, Kiyoomi quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His lips were soft as he gently pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rose up quickly against his sides. Slightly panicking. He tilted your chin up slightly and you finally kissed him back. 

You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled you closer.

He pulled away. Grinning like an idiot.

“I think you should go to that school in Osaka with me. I’m going to have an apartment and everything.”

You placed your arms around his shoulders and his slinked down to your waist.

“We’ll see.”

Kiyoomi’s body sunk into itself.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for quite some time now and that’s all you say? ‘We’ll see?’ It’s really not enough.” 

“I mean who said I haven’t been waiting to kiss you too?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you as you leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“For how long?”

“After nationals in our second year when I saw a horde of fan girls for one of the best aces in Japan.” You reached up and pinched his cheek. “I thought to myself that I wasn’t jealous or anything, but I think I’ve thought about you romantically for a while now.” He narrowed his eyes at you before shaking his head for you to let go of his face.

“But you’re right. You’ve never told me I was pretty before, Kiyoomi.” You used your hands to bring his face down to yours. 

That was the first time you and Sakusa Kiyoomi had ever kissed.

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi was disappointed to say the least that you did not follow him to college in Osaka. 

Or so he thought. 

Two weeks after his move there was a knock on his apartment door at 7am in the morning. Kiyoomi was a morning person, but he had no clue who it could possibly be. He pulled a sweatshirt over his body and pulled on sweatpants over his boxers.

There you stood with a suitcase in each hand.

“I chose Osaka because I don’t think I can handle being away from you for four years.”

Kiyoomi enveloped you in a hug, making you drop your luggage. He pressed your body against his chest and buried his head into the crook of your neck. He peppered kisses on your  cheekbone until you turned to face him. He held your hands and kissed you sweetly before pulling you inside. 

“Kiyo, you need to grab my bags.” You mumbled into his mouth. He gently put you down. Grabbed your bags and placed them inside and turned to face you. You looked at him expectantly with your arms open towards him. Without missing a beat he picked you up and spun you around.

“Are you sure you want to go to school out here?” He pressed a kiss to your temple. You nodded against his chest.

“One exception though.” You pulled away from him.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yes.”

This was the first day you spent as an official couple.

-

The semester was beginning to take a toll on the both of you. Fortunately enough, the both of you managed to be taking the same courses for your basics and had a basic study regiment in the evenings. Kiyoomi’s volleyball practice ran from ungodly hours of the morning and the fatigue was catching up to him as finals week set upon the two of you.

You returned from the library and walked into the bedroom to see Kiyoomi sound asleep, laying on his side snuggling a pillow. Quiet snores spread through the room as his mouth was slightly agape.

You quickly showered and changed into a shirt of his before snuggling into bed beside him. You ran your fingers through his hair causing him to lean into your touch.

“Y/N” He groaned into the pillow.

“Hm?”

“C’mere.” He lifted up his arm as an invitation. You quickly obliged as his arm encased you into his chest.

“How was studying? Sorry I left so early.” He yawned.

 Your arm wrapped around his side as your fingernails began to graze his bare back.

“It’s fine, Kiyo. I know how tired you’ve been lately. Being a student athlete is tough enough as it is.” 

“I don’t want you to be stressed out because of my incapabilities.”

“You’re only human. And I’m stressed out because college is tough, not because you’re incapable of things.”

“I know.”

“Your voice is cute when you’re tired.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.” 

“Nevermind.” 

“I beg your pardon?.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re super handsome when you’re dead quiet. I know I can’t see you right now, but the whole brooding thing  you usually have going on is usually pretty nice in my opinion.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, Kiyo.”

“Y/N  I’ll literally make you do all of the cleaning next week.”

“But Kiyo-”

“Shut up.”

“Anyways. I’ve missed you.”

“We live together. And study together. And go to school together.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember that one time that you fell down the stairs in our second year? In front of the entire class?”

“I hate you.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

You sat up abruptly staring down at your boyfriend. He sat up, propping his hands on either side of his body. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

A lazy smile graced the black-haired man’s features.

“I mean it!”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m smiling.”

“I really mean it, Kiyoomi. You’ve been my best friend since middle school. We spent every waking moment together. I got to grow with you as friends. I had the opportunity to watch you bloom into your passion by bringing you daifuku one day because I saw a quiet boy practicing all by himself. I’m so lucky for that moment of time. Even though we’re busy now, we get to hold each other at night and see each other’s achievements during the day. I think it’s so amazing that we have each other.  I just want to cherish you.”

“I love you too.” He clasped his hand over yours.

“And I mean it too.”

That was the first time you and Sakusa exchanged ‘I love yous’.

-

The semester had come to an end. Kiyoomi rested his head on your lap as you watched TV and he watched volleyball highlights on his phone. You played with his curls absentmindedly.

“I can’t believe that Kageyama Tobio is playing on the Olympic team this year.”

“Who?”

“The kid who beat Wakatoshi our second year.”

“Oh that one.”

“I want to play in the Olympics.”

“I know Kiyo you just need to keep doing what you're doing and you’ll be on that stage in 2020.”

You pulled out your cell phone and took a picture of the two of you. Managing to get his glare and everything. You shoved the photo you just took in his face. 

“Look! Do you know who that is?”

“Me. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Correct!” You exclaimed. “He’s also my boyfriend and a future Olympian! A future representative of Japan’s men's volleyball team!”

Kiyoomi laughed. He locked his phone and just kept on laughing.

“You’re so precious.” He managed between laughs. He pulled his head from your lap and squeezed your cheeks with both of his hands.

“My girlfriend believes in me!” He sang song.

You placed your hands over his and pulled him forward into a quick kiss.

“Am I not supposed to?”

“I never said that.”

“You’re kind of suggesting it. Do you not like me anymore?”

He leaned forward, putting his lips on yours once more.

“You know I don’t like you, I love you.”

(nsfw)

Butterflies rose in your chest at his words. You gave him the dopiest grin before you leaned into  him once more. Your body leaned into his. Kiyoomi’s hands rose under your shirt as he pulled you on top of his lap. Your legs fell on either side of him as your fingers ran through his hair. As your hands reached the back of his head you fisted his curls, earning a quiet groan from the man underneath you. His hands pressed roughly into the skin of your hips. The surprise let Kiyoomi slip his tongue into your mouth.

He began to place open mouth kisses down your neck as his hands traveled up to your breasts. You quickly slid your shirt off over your head to give him more access. His kisses continued across your collarbone and down to your breast. 

“Kiyo-” Your breath hitched in your throat as he swirled his tongue.

“Hmm?” He mumbled into your chest. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You said firmly, as you slid your hands to his shoulders to get him to look at you.

His dark eyes sparkled at you and nodded. 

You got off of his lap and made your way to your room. Dropping your shorts to the ground, you kicked them to the corner of the room. Before you could even reach the bed, you were enveloped in a hug from behind. Kiyoomi’s bare chest warmed your back as he began to kiss your neck, your shoulders. A hand firmly on your hip and a hang squeezing your breast. His hands traveled your body hungrily. You turned to meet his face. Caressing it with the back of your hand you placed a gentle kiss on his nose, making him smile at you.

Your hands draped over his boxers as you generously worked them down his legs. Placing, small, eager kisses on his lips.

“I don’t think we have condoms-”

“Yes we do. They’re in my nightstand, I bought them just in case we ever-”

“Mhmm”

You lured Kiyoomi over to the bed as you stroked him. He opened the bedside table and carefully tore the wrapper before rolling the condom on. He hovered over you as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips not leaving yours once. His fingers caressed you, slipping in and out slowly, you moaned into his mouth, making him speed up ever so slightly as he kissed all over your body. He wanted to show you physically how much he loves you.

He positioned himself between your legs before slipping himself in. The two of you gasped at the newfound sensation. He moaned into your neck as your hands failed to grab at his back. He kissed your cheek and smiled at you. He began to roll his hips into you repeatedly. He was weary of his actions as his hands roamed your entire body. He didn’t want to go too slow or two fast. He never asked, he just studied your reactions as he pressed deeper into you. He began to hold a steady rhythm as moans began to spill from your mouth. Each sound encouraging him to unconsciously move faster. 

“Kiyoomi.” Your nails sunk into his back, your lips struggled to find his. He moaned your name into your neck. He was reaching his climax as he shuddered inside of you. He kissed your forehead gently. 

“I love you. Forever. I cannot imagine anyone else I’d share this life with.”

You stared at your boyfriend. He was studying your face with great intent as if to check if he made a dent. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. You pushed it back making his curls bounce as they flopped back down. His body rose and fell steadily as he caught his breath over you. He gave you a small smile as he flattened your hair on your head, he gently pulled out of you before sitting on his knees and sliding the condom off of himself.

“Give me a second please.”

He walked to the bathroom and disposed of it and began to pick up the clothes from earlier and put them in the hamper. He returned to your side. He propped up his head on his hand as ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so lucky. Everyday.”

You smiled as he placed yet another tender kiss on your lips.

The night ended with Sakusa curled on your bare chest, fast asleep while you held him dearly through the night.

That was you and Sakusa Kiyoomi’s first time.

-

Today was Kiyoomi’s first V-League game. 

You were never typically awake at the same times that he was. Ever. 

You sleepily followed him around the apartment. He brushed his teeth first. You stifled a laugh as he began the skin care routine you taught him in high school. He ignored you, but followed suit. Next he fixed his bed head. Well you did. You sat on the counter with him between your legs as you gently raked product through his hair. 

“Omi Omi.” You sang as he relaxed into your hands. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? I think Miya was onto something when he started calling you that.” 

“No he wasn’t. He tainted the second half of my name when he started that shit.”

“Don’t be that way, Omi Omi!” 

“Shut up!” He yawned. 

“Or what, Omi?” You hopped off the sink and walked away from him.

“You’re gonna do what you did to me, last night? Right now?”

A sly grin rested on his lips before he pushed you to the bed. 

“Good thing we woke up early.”

-

You stayed arm and arm with Kiyoomi at the bar where his teammates won. The Black Jackals won their very first game. 

You glanced up at your mask-clad boyfriend as he glared at his teammates. 

“Omi Omi! I didn’t know you were bringing your girlfriend!”

“Hi! You must be Atsumu!” You extended your hand to shake his, but Sakusa cut in front of you. 

“Don’t touch him.” He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s called being courteous, Kiyo. You ought to try it!” You shoved his chest. 

“I can’t believe Omi Omi has a heart. He actually talks about us at home.” Bokuto bunched up his shirt on his chest, his eyes watering. 

“You’re telling me.” Atsumu huffed. 

“To be clear, the only person I respect on this team is Meian and I think it’s all valid.” Sakusa glared at the two men. His gaze lost it’s focus once he heard your laugh and reeled back into the conversation that you were having with Hinata. 

His teammates smiled as they were watching a never before seen Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

As the night progressed more and more drinks were spread amongst the team. 

You and Kiyoomi balanced the drinks the best you could, but after all, it was your first time drinking. Ever. 

Both of you, equally wasted, exited the bar and ordered a ride home. Laughing up the stairs the two of you tumbled into your bedroom. Kissing and everything in between. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi looked at you like you were the light of his life and he made sure you knew it. 

You studied his features as he drunkenly told you stories of when he was little. His dark brown eyes squinted at you as little laughs escaped his mouth. Anytime he smiled one corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. Anytime Kiyoomi reached for your hand, he always managed to be the most gentle with his spindly fingers. His kisses were so soft. Even now as he continuously reaches down to kiss you. Even though your own lips are numb from the alcohol rushing in your veins. 

This is true love. 

-

“I told you that you’d be in the Olympics.” 

You wrapped your arms around him as you stood behind the couch, smothering his cheek with kisses. 

“I know! I’m glad everything paid off!” 

“Me too. Me too.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever dated an Olympian.” You stared at the phone in Kiyoomi’s hand. The congratulatory email. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about marrying an Olympian? Pretty practical, right?”

You grinned from ear to ear. 

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in a while.”

“I’d like you to know I’m full of great ideas. I mean we’ve been together for six years. And it’s because I kissed you since you wouldn’t kiss me. I think that it’s a fair assumption that I’m the brains of this relationship. I also made the idea for us moving into this city home. I also made the executive decision for us to buy a cat.”

“Kiyo. That’s not how that went. You know damn well I brought the cat home when you were done with practice and you hit me with the whole ‘I guess we can do it if we clean the litter box everyday’. I think you’re remembering things incorrectly. Per usual.”

“Dunno, but it took my decision making to allow her to stay in this home.”

“Uh huh. Now that I think about it, it would be my first time marrying an Olympian.”

“Well duh. I mean look at me.”

“ I was talking about Miya, you dolt.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “I guess you can take the role of the funny one.”

-

The first time Sakusa became a parent. He had almost passed out in the delivery room. He’ll never acknowledge it to you, however when friends asked he claimed that childbirth was ultimately disgusting. 

His eyes shone the moment your son entered the world. 

He held him delicately as if he could break. He was laughing as he gently brought him down to you. 

You stared down at the baby you and your husband had brought into the world and you couldn’t help but think of the first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi and the blessings the boy brought into your life.

(A/N) the smut scene wasnt supposed to be good!!!!!!!!! It was their first time so it wasn’t supposed to be some god tier orgasming experience. It was supposed to be plain and about their connection!

thanks for reading (:

[elvish-sky]

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

A.N: OK GUYS- i literally tied my hand to my sister’s to figure out some of the logistics of movement for this. She thinks I’m crazy now. But I loved this request! I’m currently catching up on requests and also dealing with some personal issues, and I haven’t been happy with anything I’ve written in a really long time, but I’m really happy with this! It would mean so much to me if you guys liked it too, I put so much work into this and I’m so proud of it!

also- a thousand thank you’s to @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth for giving me an idea for this fic. i appreciate you letting me use it so so much. thank you.

Requested by @raineeace on Tumblr: Your recent request you wrote was beyond cute! You’re an amazing writer, so catch me reading the rest of your LOTR content !! I also wanted to request something as well! Can you do a Faramir x Fem!Reader and Gandalf and/or Pippin try to get them together? I loved the how you wrote Aragorn as cupid, and I wanted to ask if you could make these two matchmakers as well? Lots of fluff please and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,334

Pairing: Faramir x Reader

Summary: You and Faramir have been mooning over each other for months, but nothing has come of Pippin’s efforts to get you together. What happens when Pippin enlists the help of a certain wizard?

Warnings: Fluff, Humor

****

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

Pippin leaned over the banister, watching you and Faramir walk together below. You smiled at something the man said, then nodding your head goodbye and walking away. The hobbit watched as Faramir stood there, watching you go, looking oddly lonely.

Pippin had been watching/trying to get you and Faramir together for a while now. He had first noticed the chemistry and romantic tension between you when everyone was gathered waiting for Frodo to heal, and decided to do something about it. Now, months later, nothing had happened. Pippin thought that at this point neither of you was ever going to confess your very obvious feelings for the other.

At least, not without some extra help.

“Come on, Gandalf, please?”

The wizard shook his head, “I cannot believe you are still going on about this.”

“They need the help,” Pippin told him, “Plus, getting them to admit their feelings to each other would help them, and ease your exasperation with the two of them for walking in circles around each other!”

The wizard shook his head. “I’m not going to help you with this!”

“It’s for the greater good! Can you really stand to see the two of them mooning over each other all the time?”

“That’s true. It’s getting ridiculous,” Gandalf sighed, “Fine. I’ll help. Where do we start?”

Back in your room, you lifted your head from your desk as a loud, hobbitish whoop rand through the air. You chalked it up to Pippin hitting another elf, probably Legolas, with an apple, and returned to your work. You hoped that it wasn’t Legolas that Pippin had hit, because the last time that happened Legolas had promptly eaten the apple, and Pippin had bemoaned the loss of his snack for weeks.

That night, you left your room, closing the door behind you and setting off down the hallway. You’d barely made it fifteen feet when another door opened right in front of you and Faramir came rushing out, crashing into you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I feel terrible!”

“It’s okay!”

You shuffled your feet, nervous to be so close to the person you’d been in love with for months.

It was also weird how close your rooms were- Aragorn had given everyone from the Fellowship and friends special quarters after his coronation. You could understand why the hobbits’ rooms were so close together, but wondered why Aragorn had placed you and Faramir almost directly across from each other. Probably because the two of you worked together the closest on negotiations with the other kingdoms.

Eventually, Faramir broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

“So, late to dinner?”

You smiled, glad he’d spoken first.

“Yeah. I got so focused on drafting that new trade agreement with the Iron Hills that I didn’t realize how low the sun was.”

He nodded. “I completely understand, I’ve done that far too many times, working on something like that or staying outside the city for far too long.”

Laughing, you looped your arm through his. “We should get to dinner before Aragorn yells at us.”

You entered the hall together, pushing open the doors to see your friends all seated around the high table. Dinners with the group had started when everyone was waiting for Frodo to heal and wake up and had just continued on, everyone reluctant to give up the time spent together.

Letting go of Faramir’s arm, you took your usual seat between him and his brother.

“What prompted you two to arrive together?” Boromir winked at you as he whispered.

“Huh? Oh, we just bumped into each other in the hall.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirked as he spoke.

“Pass the potatoes, please, Boromir.” You were determined to change the subject, and, happily, it seemed to have worked.

What you didn’t notice was Gandalf staring intently at you and Faramir, muttering something under his breath as Pippin watched gleefully.

You yawned, pushing your empty plate away with a groan.

“I’m stuffed. And tired. I think I’ll head to my rooms.”

Everyone said goodbye, and you pushed back your chair and went to stand.

But you couldn’t.

There were handcuffs on, one on your wrist, and the other on Faramir’s. And they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Who handcuffed us?” You were bewildered.

“Gandalf…” Faramir glared at the wizard.

Gandalf glanced behind himself, and, seeing no one, turned back around with an innocent expression.

“What could I have done to make this happen?” He gestured to your hands, still handcuffed together.

Faramir said, “I don’t know, but it had to have been you!”

“Ask yourself this, Faramir. What motivation could I have possibly had? I think one you probably just ran astray of something else?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, then, how do we make it stop?”

“Only time will tell,” the wizard nodded sagely.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You exclaimed.

“Just stay together? Do everything together?” Pippin looked all too pleased by this.

“Fine. C’mon Faramir.”

The man rose, and together you marched out of the hall, handcuffs clanking, never moving further than five inches apart.

Once in the hallway, you turned to Faramir, panicked.

“What do we do? We’re stuck five inches, or less, apart from each other for Eru knows how long, we both have important duties.”

“And there’s going to the bathroom, and sleeping, and eating..” he was just as freaked out as you.

You turned to each other.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Y/N, Faramir, chill.”

You tried to turn, but the clanking and tug on your wrist stopped you as you spun the wrong way, twisting yourself with Faramir.

“Ok, no wait,” he backed up, accidentally taking you with him.

“Here, go this way, move your hand left.”

“No, no, my left, my left.”

“Spin this way?”

“You go under, I go over?”

“Aha! Yes, that worked!” You high-fived each other clunkily, and turned, making sure to bring your arms over your heads so that your hands fell back again.

“Oh, Pippin! What were you saying?”

Pippin smiled at Faramir. “I can help.”

“Would you mind telling us how?”

“You just have to accept it!”

“WHAT?” You screamed in unison.

Back in the hall, Aragorn winced at the echo of the yell.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” He questioned the wizard.

“Of course not,” Gandalf replied, “but it was not mine. It was all Pippin, and if anything goes wrong that’s who we’ll blame.”

Legolas chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll leave it all on Pippin.”

Boromir raised a mug of ale. “TO-”

He was cut off by a resounding shush, and, chastened, began again.

“To Y/N and Faramir”

Everyone echoed the sentiment, quietly, and clinked their mugs.

Back in the hallway, you and Faramir were glaring at Pippin.

“You want us to just live like this?”

“Yes! You’ll be fine, maybe it’ll wear off soon, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Ughhhhhh,” you stormed away, dragging Faramir behind you.

Approaching your door, you were suddenly stopped when Faramir halted behind you.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet. “Whose room are we staying in?”

You considered. “Which one is bigger? We’ll need all the maneuvering space we can get.”

You walked together over to your doorway, poking your heads inside before moving back to his.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” He asked.

“Yeah. You have more space and a bigger bed. Let’s just go back to my room so that I can grab a few things if I’ll be staying with you indefinitely.”

“How are we going to do this?”

You stared at Faramir’s bed.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You hadn’t thought this situation could get any more awkward, but there it was. The crown jewel of awkwardness, coming out to torment you. It had been bad enough attempting to change into your nightclothes, which you’d managed by turning your backs to each other to put them on, and only wearing one sleeve. But this was worse.

You decided to just go for it, and climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Your movement pulled the handcuffs so that Faramir went with you, and you ended up on one side of the bed, him on the other, hands cuffed together in the center.

“This is not very comfortable,” Faramir observed.

That was true. You were lying flat on your back when you always slept on your side, and you were literally handcuffed to another person. Unable to stand the absurdity of it all, you broke out into laughter.

Faramir joined in, and you laughed together until you had tears in your eyes. His smile was so bright in the dimly lit room, and you could listen to his laugh for a thousand years without getting sick of it.

When the laughter subsided, you decided nothing could be more uncomfortable than the position your body was currently stuck in.

“Do you usually sleep on your side?”

Faramir nodded, looking a little confused.

“Ok. I’m going to try something, it’s going to be really awkward, but we might actually be able to sleep.”

“I trust you, Y/N. Whatever you’re going to do will be fine.”

You smiled at him, internally still freaking out that you were sharing a bed with Faramir. But there was no time to panic, your shoulder was killing you.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped so that the handcuffed arm was now underneath you, chain stretching up to where Faramir’s arm hovered.

“Would you be alright with putting your arm over my waist?” You wanted to make sure he was comfortable with all this.

Craning your neck, you saw a faint blush creeping up his face in the dusky light.

“Only if it’s ok with you,” he seemed nervous.

You were too, but you nodded and felt him slowly settle his arm around your waist.

Once it was there, his hand gently hanging near your stomach, you both relaxed, letting out sighs as the tension left your bodies simultaneously.

And then you giggled. Again, because this was just too ridiculous.

He laughed too. “You alright?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bumping into his chest as he sucked in a breath.

“I’m good.”

It took a while for each of you to fall asleep, brains spinning with thoughts of the person next to you. But eventually, you did.

It was the best you had slept in years.

The next day, the two of you began to figure out how to go around with your hands stuck together. You ate by spooning the food into each other’s mouths one at a time, which you were pretty sure Boromir was sketching to memorialize forever.

You blinked your eyes open the next day to sunlight streaming through the windows, and soft breathing behind you. Carefully, you turned around so that your hands now rested between your bodies.

Faramir’s face was glowing with the light of the morning sun, hair spread on the pillow. You’d never seen him so peaceful, and he looked gorgeous like some Vala come across the world to Gondor.

Unable to resist the impulse, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

You quickly moved back, only to notice that the weight on your hand was gone.

You looked down.

The handcuffs were gone.

“Faramir! Faramir!” You shook him awake.

“What, Y/N?” He asked groggily.

His morning voice was perfection itself, and you had to bring yourself back to reality.

“The handcuffs are gone. Look!”

He shot up at this, looking down at his now-free hand.

“Wow! We should probably go let Gandalf know.”

You nodded. “Meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and the last thing you saw as you closed the door was Faramir marveling at his now-free wrist.

Later, in the room that Gandalf had claimed as his office right next to the large hall where you usually ate, you sat together.

The wizard inquired, “What exactly happened?”

“The handcuffs were gone when I woke up,” Faramir told him.

“That shouldn’t have just happened. They were supposed to disappear when a physical manifestation of your affection for each other happened.”

“You did this?” You were outraged.

“Yes, Y/N, I did.”

Sensing that you were about to interrupt in outrage again, he added on.

“It should have been a physical manifestation of affection that was not circumstantial because of the handcuffs.”

You sighed, knowing what it was.

Faramir turned to you. “Do you know what it could have been?”

You stared straight at the floor.

“I… kissed your cheek when I woke up this morning.”

He blinked at you, shocked. Gandalf discreetly slipped out the door.

“You just looked so handsome in the sunlight with your hair glowing and I couldn’t resist and I’m so sorry and I’ll leave Gondor right now and never come back and what you must think of me no-”

“Y/N.”

You stopped rambling, looking at Faramir. He leaned closer to you, and in the depths of his eyes, you saw nothing but love. He paused for a moment, head tilted as if asking for your permission.

You nodded your head.

Faramir moved closer, tilting your chin up so that his lips met yours, kissing you oh-so-gently. Then somehow you were standing, lips still touching his as he surged closer and kissed you harder, like all the passion and feeling in the world was just pouring out of him and into you.

Finally, you broke apart, smiles on both your faces.

“I think I love you.,” you said, then clapped a hand over your mouth.

Faramir smirked. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you too.”

You gazed at each other for a few moments, before you grabbed his hand.

“Now, let’s go kill a wizard.”

Opening the doors to the hallway, you saw said wizard suddenly disappear.

You corrected yourself.

“Let’s go kill that wizard once he returns from wherever he’s hidden himself.”

Faramir laughed. “Let’s kill Gandalf later. For now, would you like to go for a walk?”

You smiled at him, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Lead on, my love.”

Everything tag❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fic tag: @eru-vande @annkdarar @lust4crust @the-reformed-ringwraith @ethereal-earendil

[matbarzyy]

Where We Land [A.B.]

A/N: I've had this in my drafts pretty much since I started this blog but somehow never finished it, so here we are now. Enjoy some soft single dad Tito x student babysitter

Word count: 5739

.

Babysitting Anthony Beauvillier’s son was not what you expected to do to make money during the last two years of your degree. It started as an accident, really, you were walking in the park when Alex ran into you, and a few days later you were coming over to watch him while his dad was at practice.

Alex had been an unexpected surprise with a girlfriend Tito had dated for less than a year. They weren’t really in love, but they got along well and moved in together for the sake of their baby. They figured out after the first year that they were cut out to be friends rather than a couple, there was nothing romantic between them. Tito kept on living with them to make it easier while Alex needed constant attention, and they agreed to live separately once he was grown enough to be moved between houses on weekends.

A car accident changed everything when Alex was only three. The boys ended up on their own, and Anthony wasn’t sure of how to deal with his son and career at the same time. The team was a priority, but it couldn’t be more important than his own child.

His family helped him a lot at the start, staying with him to watch over Alex, but after a few months they had to get back home. You filled in for them during the week, picking Alex up from school and watching him until his dad was home, but it was never more than that. Anthony still always made sure someone from his family could fly to New York whenever he had to leave for a roadie.

It wasn’t a sustainable option for anyone, but they were still grieving so his parents did everything they could to help out. It worked until Alex turned four, almost a year had passed since he lost his mother, and it was time for everyone to move on.

It was the reason Anthony was so anxious about leaving for this game. You would be the one watching Alex and he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. You were used to the little boy, you were there every day and they both trusted you, but it wasn’t the same. Still, Tito didn’t think he could find anyone better than you.

“Thanks for watching him for so long, there’s no one else I’d trust around here with him for three days,” Anthony sighed as he dropped his bags by the doorstep, quickly checking he wasn’t missing anything. He did his best to shake off the nerves of leaving his son with someone that wasn’t his parents. “Please call me if anything happens?”

“We’ll be fine,” You reassured him for the millionth time. “It’s only three days, he’ll be at school most of the time,”

It was a bit of a change for you because you weren’t used to the morning routine Alex had, but you knew you’d be fine. It wasn’t a long trip, and Tito would be back on Friday right after school ended, so you wouldn’t even have to go through the weekend alone.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tito nodded, his bottom lip still caught between his teeth. “I’m going to say goodbye to him, I’ll try not to wake him up,”

It was six in the morning, so you were already settled on his couch in your sweatpants, your own packed bag sitting near the dinner table. There was a blanket draped over your shoulders, and you were planning on watching Netflix until Alex woke up.

You were used to making yourself at home around Tito’s apartment, you respected boundaries, but he had already seen you bunched up in blankets with Alex a hundred times when you had movie nights together while he was busy. You hoped the little boy would stay asleep for a while, it was too early for you to function, and he already knew you’d be there instead of his dad for the next few days.

“Okay,” Tito walked back into the living room. “He’s still sleeping, he should stay in bed until you wake him up. I made him pick clothes last night to wear today, they’re on the chair in his room,”

“Alright, thank you,” You made a note of doing that tonight, you weren’t sure of how fussy he was with deciding what he wanted to wear, so it was safer to have it done the night before.

“The fridge is full,” Tito continued with the recommendations. “So you should be fine, but that’s in case you need to get anything, or if you two go out and you need to buy him something or whatever, you know I don’t care,” He handed you an envelope that you could only assume was full of cash. It wasn’t the first time he did that, and you always kept receipts and left the exact right amount in, he knew because he had counted the first couple of times. By now he had stopped checking, he really couldn’t care less even if you bought something for yourself, but the little stack of receipts was always there waiting for him.

“I don’t think we’ll need more groceries, you won’t be gone that long,” You knew the kitchen was stocked with the list of ingredients you sent him. You always managed to cook dinner with whatever he had in the fridge when he was late to come home, but he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be missing anything while he was gone.

“Mmh, yeah, I guess. Make yourself at home in my room, okay? I changed the sheets after I woke up this morning, you can use whatever you need in the shower,” He went through the last few things he needed to tell you, and you nodded.

“Thank you,”

“Okay, Mat is picking me up,” He checked his phone when the screen lit up. “Call me if there’s absolutely anything,”

“How many times a day do I need to text you we’re okay to stop you from worrying?” You joked, trying to ease his mind.

“I’m just- I’m not used to this,” He bit his lip nervously, which wasn’t in his habits. You were used to seeing him confident. He always trusted you with Alex and went out for several nights without a second of worry, but this was different.

“I promise I’ll call if anything happens,” You reassured him again. “And just call me when you want to talk to him,”

“Okay, yeah, I’m really going now,” Anthony gave you a real smile. He knew you’d take care of Alex like he was your own.

“Good luck for the games!” You waved one last time before he closed the door.

.

After that first trip, your job as a babysitter began taking a lot more of your time. Anthony trusted you fully and left you without worrying any time he had to travel. Roadies were rarely long, and you managed juggling your classes and time on campus with your responsibilities towards Alex.

“Can we bake?” The little boy gave you his best puppy eyes, trying to distract you from an essay you were hoping to finish.

“If you ask politely,” You reminded him, tearing your eyes away from your laptop.

“Can we bake, please?” He asked again, knowing what was expected of him.

“Sure, Daddy will be home in an hour or two, do you want to bake him cookies?” You were sure the activity would keep you both busy until he was back, and Tito would appreciate the treat.

“Yes!”

“Alright, go wash your hands,” You nodded towards the bathroom and he ran there while you closed your laptop with a sigh. So much for getting work done.

You put your hair up before washing your hands at the kitchen sink, and Alex came back to join you soon after. You helped him put his small apron on, tying it behind his back for him. He wasn’t too clumsy for a kid, but he still lacked the coordination required for baking.

You measured out the ingredients for him and let him mix them together. He was a little slower than you would have been at it because his arms weren’t strong enough to mix fast, but you eventually ended up with a good enough batter.

“Alright, now the chocolate chips,” You poured them into the bowl and left Alex to check your phone.

Anthony just texted to tell you he was on his way from the airport, so you had just enough time to bake the cookies before he made it home.

“Alex!” You scolded with wide eyes when you found him with the spatula in his mouth, batter all over his face. “Put the spatula down in the sink,” You pointed to it, and he obeyed silently.

You knew from the guilty look he gave you that you wouldn’t need to say more than that. You helped him clean his face and then went on to put the first batch of cookies in the oven. Keeping Alex from trying to touch burning hot cookies took effort, but eventually they were cool enough for him to eat one while you stacked the rest on a plate

“Daddy!” Alex shouted as soon as the door opened, running to him before Tito even had a chance to drag his bags inside.

“There’s my boy,” He grinned as he picked the little boy up and hugged him tightly. “Did you just bake cookies?” He looked up at you and you nodded, smiling at the reunion.

“Chocolate chips!” The little boy yelled excitedly, holding on to his dad.

“Mmh, I’m not surprised,” Tito loved the smell of them, and he was sure they’d taste even better. “How was today?”

“It was good,” you smiled, finishing up in the kitchen and wiping counters to leave everything tidy. “What about you?”

“Busy but in a good way,” he came and reached for a cookie on the plate. “Much better now that I have this,” he bit into the sweet treat and hummed in appreciation. “You’re a wonder, can I hire you as a full time cook?”

“Oh so I could get paid for all of this?” You teased right back, hanging the tea towel back on the handle of the oven.

“You could if you weren’t so busy getting a degree,” he chuckled, watching as Alex came into the room. “I’m going to assume you’re not hungry, uh?” Tito asked the little boy because he was sure his little stomach wouldn’t handle a whole dinner after he had cookies.

“Only for cookies!” He exclaimed in response, making the two of you laugh out loud.

“That’s not how this works little man,” you ruffled his hair and went back to the living room to gather your things.

“You’ll want to take a detour behind the theatre,” Anthony advised as you finished putting your laptop away in your back. “There was an accident when I drove home, there’s going to be traffic,”

“I don’t want you to leave!” Alex ran over to you and clung onto your legs, stopping you in your way and making you look down.

“Alex,” Tito took his stern voice before you could say anything. “You can’t force her to stay like that. You have to ask.”

“Please stay,” The boy held onto your trousers and looked up at you with a pout on his face.

“I can hang around for dinner,” You answered before looking up at his dad to make sure that was okay. He nodded his agreement and you smiled. “How about you go show Daddy the drawing you did at school today while I see what I can make you two, mmh?”

……………………………........................................................................................

Sunlight streamed into Anthony’s room when you woke up. You yawned and sighed, stretching your arms over your head before sitting on the edge of the bed. You still had trouble believing how comfortable his bed was, so you never complained when he was away overnight and you got to stay for Alex. You weren’t sure if it was because of his mattress, or his pillow, or the fact that being cozy in his bed was the closest you’d get to being in his arms.

It was Sunday, so you had extra time to cook breakfast and nowhere to take Alex except the park after lunch if he wanted to go play. It was going to be a lazy day and you were going to start it with pancakes. You adjusted your pajamas that had gotten twisted around your body through the night and stepped out of the bedroom.

You stopped immediately when you noticed a man sitting on the couch. You could tell from the hair that it wasn’t Tito who could have come back early, but he was in an islanders hoodie so you guessed he was on the team.

“Um, hello?” You asked uneasily. You wished you at least got dressed when you got up.

“Hi, uh,” the man turned around and quickly realised you weren’t the person he was expecting to see. “I’m Mat,” he introduced himself. “Is Beau still sleeping or something?”

Now that you had a chance to get a good look at his face you easily recognised him from watching Anthony’s games.

“Oh,” You visibly relaxed. “You’re Mat, he’s not home right now. He’s helping a friend move a few hours away or something,”

“Oh, shit,” Mat realised why his best friend hadn’t texted back when he said he was on his way over. “You’re here for Alex,”

“Yeah,”

“Speak of the devil,” He grinned when a tiny figure appeared behind you.

“Uncle Mat!” The little boy yelled as he ran to him.

“Hi bud!” Mat picked him up easily, throwing him up into the air before letting him settle in his arms. “How good are you at skating now? Your dad told me you go and train every week, you’re going to be a professional soon!”

“Daddy said I can almost skate as fast as you!”

“Really?” Mat gasped excitedly. “You’re going to have to show me that,”

“After breakfast though,” You knew the little boy would get whiny if he didn’t eat before leaving.

“I got a new dinosaur!” Alex tugged on Mat’s sleeve to drag him to his room, and the man followed while gasping and asking questions whenever he needed to.

You shook your head and hurried back to Anthony’s room to change into your clothes before you could cook. Once in the kitchen, you decided to double the recipe you usually made for just you and Alex. If Mat ate like Tito you’d need at least that much.

It didn’t take long for you to start cooking them, and you placed syrup with some fruits on the kitchen island. Alex had recently developed an obsession for strawberries and would eat them with everything, so Tito had plenty of them in the fridge.

“Smells good in here,” Mat walked back in and hoisted Alex up on one of the stools.

“Strawberries!” He immediately grabbed the bowl with the red fruit and messily spooned some onto his plate.

“Pancakes too,” You slid two onto his plate.

He began eating without another word and you sighed, giving up on manners for the morning. You’d be a little more strict around lunch.

“Do you want some too?” You asked Mat, hoping for a positive answer otherwise you’d end up with breakfast for the next two days.

“Did you make these from scratch?” He looked at the batter you had made and watched as you expertly flipped them in the pan, revealing a perfect golden colour on the other side. You nodded and Mat beamed. “Yes please,” He grabbed a plate and the maple syrup, drowning the pancakes as soon as you dropped them on his plate. “So I guess the three of us are going skating?” He was still chewing when he asked his question, and Alex didn’t fail to notice.

“You can’t speak with your mouth full!” He scolded and you held back a laugh at the face Mat made. He clearly wasn’t too used to kids.

“You’re right little man,” He took a swig of his juice before answering. “Lemme start again, are we all going skating today?”

“I don’t know if I can just take Alex without Anthony,” you told Mat, who nodded understandingly.

“I’ve taken him a few times, Beau won’t mind,” he assured you, not knowing that you were awful at skating and actually broke your arm on the ice a few years ago. Deciding that Alex would be safe enough with a professional skater next to him even if you wouldn’t be able to do much to help him, you turned the heat off on the stove and agreed.

“Well, then I guess we’re going skating.”

……………………………........................................................................................

You sighed in relief after you closed the bedroom door as quietly as you could have. Alex has been inconsolable for hours and it was way past his bedtime, which meant you also had to stay up for longer than usual. You settled for cleaning the kitchen first, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought of what you should do.

Alex never talked about problems at school before, but what he had told you and cried about last night was worrying. You didn’t want to bother Anthony on the only night he was actually going out with his friends, he usually came straight home after games and remained with Alex on any other nights, but this was his child and you couldn’t just keep it to yourself.

You finished wiping the counters clean before taking your phone and settling for a text.

Alex had some trouble at school with a few kids, cried about it for a while, he just fell asleep. Thought I should let you know if you want to ask him about it tomorrow.

You kept it short and crashed on the couch with a quiet groan. You were exhausted, it was past midnight, and seeing Alex sad shattered your heart. Draping a blanket over yourself, you leaned back and eventually curled yourself up on your side to close your eyes and rest for a moment.

.

“You’re so whipped,” Mathew snickered as he watched his friend getting ready to leave already.

“I’m not,” Tito grumbled, putting his jacket on and pulling his keys out of his pocket. “I’m worried about Alex,” his jaw clenched as he felt the guilt wash over him. What kind of dad was he, going out with his friends instead of being there for his son when he was crying about his issues?

“He’s sleeping,” the other man argued, earning himself an icy glare. It was enough to shut him up, even if only for a few seconds.

“He’s my son,” Tito looked for his phone in his jacket pocket and realised it was in his jeans instead. “Something happened at school and he didn’t tell me. I need to be home.”

“Whatever you say,” Mat said in surrender before he turned serious again. “But just so you know, I’ve only spent a day with her and I can already tell you she’s wife material. Don’t let her slip away.”

On his way to his car Tito mentally cursed his friend with words he wouldn’t dare say in front of Alex, but Mat had brought up something he was not ready to talk about in the middle of a night that already held enough emotions. Maybe you were wife material, but it was Alex he was supposed to focus on right now, not on your laugh, your smile, that glimpse of mischief in your eyes that was hidden under shyness and professionalism when he was around.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself.

He was home in ten minutes thanks to his friends who had agreed to meet at a bar that was close enough to his place, and he took a deep breath before pushing his key into the lock. There was no need for him to be so overly worried, you were good with Alex, and he was asleep now so Tito most likely wouldn’t get to talk to him until morning.

His heart squeezed when he spotted you curled up on the couch, seemingly fast asleep, if your lack of greeting was any indication. It was so late and you had told him about how stressed you were about the end of the semester and the exams you had to study for. The guilt of not being there for Alex was one thing, but now, seeing you like this on his couch also made him feel like he was failing you.

He couldn’t let you sleep so uncomfortably, but he couldn’t make you drive home either. Doing his best not to disturb you, Anthony crouched down and slid an arm behind your back and the other behind your knees. He wasn’t sure of how he was going to move you without waking you up, but with enough determination he eventually managed to lift you in his arms.

You usually always woke up when he came through the door, so he could only imagine how exhausted you were to remain asleep even when he moved you like this. His luck didn’t last much longer, as when he pushed the door to his bedroom a little too hard and caused it to hit the wall with a thump, you stirred and began to wake.

“What…” You blinked your eyes open, trying to figure out where you were.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Tito whispered as he lowered you onto the mattress. He really wished you would listen to him, but if there was one thing he knew about you it was that you hated being an inconvenience.

“I should go home,” you tried to shake yourself awake, but even then your voice still came out drowsy and you couldn’t push off Tito getting you comfortable.

“It’s almost one am, you’re not going anywhere,” He pulled the covers over your body, tucking you in. “I’ll take the couch,”

“What? No, you can’t sleep on the couch,” you protested, miserably trying to push yourself up, but with a gentle hand on your shoulder Tito made you rest back against the pillow.

“I don’t mind, unless you’re comfortable sharing the bed,” he said the only thing that he knew would make you stay. If you weren’t going to make concessions when it came to him sleeping in his bed, then you’d just have to share, because there was no chance he was letting you drive or sleep on the couch.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Your eyes were already half closed and your body was limp under the covers, so Tito smiled softly and properly stood back up again.

By the time he had changed and spent a few minutes in the bathroom you were fast asleep again. Tito had a hard time reminding himself that this wasn’t normal, that you weren’t his, and that you being in his bed didn’t have to mean anything. He wished he could stop being so obsessed with you, but when he settled into the bed next to you he couldn’t bring himself to turn the lights off immediately. Instead, he took the time to study all of your features and felt himself fall a little deeper for you with every passing second.

.

“Stay,” was the first thing you heard when you tried to move the next morning.

The sound was unmistakably Tito’s voice, but it was deeper than what you were used to, and there was a resonance to it. It was only then that you realised your cheek was resting on his chest over his shirt. From there you became aware of the weight of his arms around you, of the heat of his hand that was resting on your lower back, of your legs tangled with his.

Your cheeks burned while you tried to decide what to do. Tito was clearly still half asleep, in fact you were pretty sure he only came back to consciousness to say that word before drifting right back into sleep. This gave you two options, either move and wake him up and pretend this was all an unfortunate accident while you slept, or stay in his arms and keep feeling all of these heavenly sensations.

The rational part of your mind was usually the one you listened to, but this morning your emotions were much stronger than usual. Still, to avoid an uncomfortable situation, you pulled away from his hold and tried your best to slip out on his arms unnoticed.

With the way you were tangled it was impossible for him not to notice, so just as you were making it to your own side of the bed, Tito opened his eyes to look at you.

“Morning,” he smiled lazily, cut off by a yawn and his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Hi,” you breathed out so quietly he almost didn’t hear you. “What time is it?” You knew there was a clock on his nightstand but you couldn’t read it from where you were.

“Early,” he shrugged without checking, but his expression faltered a second later when he looked over at the clock. “Shit. It’s past eight, Alex is going to get up.”

“Oh, we should move,” you said before catching yourself. “I mean, I should, I’m sorry.” You rolled over to sit on the side of the bed and lamely tried to fix your hair. You didn’t even know what you were apologising for, he did insist you should stay the night, after all.

“It’s okay,” Tito didn’t reach out to stop you from getting up, but he was dying to have you back in his arms. “I mean, I want you to stay, it’s just… Alex could walk in any minute, and I’m not sure I can answer the questions that’s going to raise.”

“Yeah, I get it, I can just head out now, thanks for letting me stay the night,” you were glad you fell asleep in leggins and not some more embarrassing (but even more comfortable) pajamas that you sometimes wore when you came here. At least you could just grab your things and go.

“I don’t actually want you to go,” Tito sat up and sighed, not knowing how to handle any of this. There were too many unspoken things between the two of you, the previous night and this morning were obviously more than platonic, but he couldn’t address it in a rush.

“I get it, really,” you gave him a tight smile and prepared to leave his room. You were so embarrassed that you wanted to crawl into a hole to hide. What were you going to do after this? How could you have stayed with him in his bed? And woken up on his chest on top of it all. Of course he was attractive, and of course you had fallen for him, but he was still your employer.

“Wait,” he hurried off the bed just fast enough to touch your wrist before you could go. Turning around to face him again made you swoon. How could he be so gorgeous in the morning? He was all softness and warmth and it was absolutely killing you. “Are you free tonight?” He took his chance, but you were so surprised by the question that it made you oblivious to what he meant.

“Do you need me to watch Alex?” You frowned, unsure of why he would need you when his mom was meant to arrive today to spend a few days with him and Alex.

“No, um, I thought maybe since my mom’s coming she could keep Alex for the night, and maybe you and I could go out to eat somewhere and we could talk about some stuff?”

“Oh,” you gaped like a fish for a few seconds before remembering to close your mouth. The awkwardness of the situation hit you both harder than ever then, you still had a hand on the handle, and your lack of smart answers did not help anything.

“I get it if you’re busy, or if you just think we should forget about this. I didn’t mean to make this uncomfortable.” Tito took a step back, a lot shyer than you had ever seen him, so you rapidly shook your head.

“No, um, actually I’m free, so,” you dropped your hand back to your side, shifting from foot to foot while smiles crept back on both of your faces.

“Pick you up at seven?” He offered so that you wouldn’t have to ramble more. You relaxed and gave him a steady nod as you replied.

“Seven works.”

……………………………........................................................................................

“Anthony, you’re buttoning your shirt wrong,” his mother noted, pretending to casually walk past the bathroom to check what he was doing.

“Dammit,” he muttered, seeing that she was right and undoing the few buttons he had already done to fix his mistake.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” She leaned against the doorframe to observe him.

“Mom, please,” he sighed. Focusing on dressing himself was hard enough, he didn’t know how well he’d be able to dodge her questions if she insisted. She knew him too well and could always read him like a book, but sometimes Tito just wanted to keep some things to himself.

“Alright, alright,” she pretended to give up but her scrutinizing gaze didn’t falter. “You don’t need to be so nervous, did you get her flowers?”

“No,” he huffed. “She’s allergic.”

“So you know each other well?”

The look he gave her was to remind her he was no idiot either. She could read him well, but he also knew all of her tricks to get him to talk, and this one hadn’t been subtle.

“I need to get going before I end up late,” he put an end to the conversation, adjusting his clothes one last time and checking his hair wasn’t out of place. “I shouldn’t be back too late, but don’t wait up, okay?” Tito kissed his mom’s cheek as he walked past her.

“Have fun,” she encouraged him as he walked through the door, and he answered with a nod and a little wave before he was off to what he hoped would be a nice date with you.

He was a wreck as he drove to meet you, scared that he was completely wrong. Did you really want to go on this date with him? He was the one who told you to stay the night, he held you through the night, and he was also the one to ask you out. Were you only doing this because you felt you had to?

He was only pulled out of his head once he reached your place. He couldn’t back out now, if there was only a slight chance that you really wanted this date Tito didn’t want to be the asshole that stood you up.

Little did he know that you were even more of a wreck, pacing around your apartment and wondering how the hell you were supposed to act. You almost jumped to the ceiling when you heard him buzz from the door of your building. There was no more time to overthink.

The car ride was awkward to say the least. Tito tried to start a few conversations, but they all died after three exchanges and he eventually settled for turning the radio on. It was still uncomfortable, but at least it wasn’t silent.

Neither of you said a thing as he stopped the car near a restaurant you remembered mentioning in passing a few times. The illuminated sign stood out in the low light of the evening, but even that couldn’t cheer you up. You were so worried you’d say the wrong thing that you ended up saying nothing at all and you couldn’t tell which option was worse.

“I’m sorry I just don’t know what we’re doing right now,” Tito eventually sighed, falling back against his seat. He had gotten so excited for this, and then so nervous. Now, he was just as lost as you looked, dumbfounded by his words. Somehow, he found the will to continue talking and laid it all out. “I just… I really like you, but I don’t know if you’re here because you work for me and I put you in an uncomfortable position, or if you actually want to be here, and we’ve never talked about any of this, and I swear things have never been weird between us before tonight so I don’t know why everything is so awkward now,” he went on and rambled for a minute, which was just enough time for you to manage a few words.

“I do want to be here,” you tried to reassure him, but your voice wasn’t very steady. It worked anyway, making him breathe out a relieved sigh.

“Okay,” Tito found the courage to turn his head to look at you, offering you a small smile as you met his eyes. This was new for both of you, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work.

Knowing that words weren’t your thing, he held his hand out for you to take. You smiled as you laced your fingers through his, giving him a small reassuring squeeze. “I mean it’s not like we have nothing in common, right?” You tried, earning a quiet chuckle and a nod.

“Worst case the conversation can just fall back on Alex.”

The mention of the young boy was enough to make you smile, which made Tito’s heart swell. He didn’t think he could ever fall in love with someone while his son was so young, needing so much time, attention and care. That was his primary responsibility, and he didn’t believe anyone would truly and selflessly understand that. Yet here you were, caring for the little boy almost as often as he did. You understood. Tito could doubt that you loved him, but he couldn’t doubt that you loved Alex.

You remained there looking at each other for several moments. Maybe you didn’t need to be scared of having to explain how you felt about each other, maybe this silent communication was enough for now. Even when you began to imagine Tito might find your staring weird, he remained there, unwavering, his eyes on yours holding the same intensity.

“Ready?” He spoke softly as to not break the moment.

Your answer came without hesitation. “Ready.”

.

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[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??), 

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll​

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream.  Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.  

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream.  This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating.  It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it?  The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous.  That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once.  You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now.  Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself.  Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged.  Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise.  You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse.  Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal.  This is fantasy, not reality.  You barely know each other.  Your divorce isn’t final.  Your divorce.  Isn’t.  Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti.  “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.  

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside.  “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses.  However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon.  “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute.  Soon.”  You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look.  He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.  

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant.  “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned.  “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian.  It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough.  Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking?  Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain.  It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously.  “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar.  We clean our floors with it.”  You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal.  “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test.  Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds.  But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable.  “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud.  “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me.  You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways.  Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh.  It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be.  Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways.  Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over.  “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.”  You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly.  “Oh, he’d hate this.  He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.  

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided.  “He’s not here.  If he wanted to find me, he would.  And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern.  Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore.  Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real.  It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.  

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long.  He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time.  “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat.  Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.  

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence.  When you looked up, he was pointing at your book.  “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that.  My book, uh, it’s good.”  You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover.  “On the Road?  Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued.  “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying.  He smiled and got back to his own reading.  Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read.  You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated.  The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth.  You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths.  When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire.  You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly.  Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe.  He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too.  Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again.  Wasn’t he cold in this weather?!  Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned.  Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you.  “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker.  Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you.  You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster.  Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out.  “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.  

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his.  You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah.  Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest.  He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down.  “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious.  It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory.  There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp.  Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings.  No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.  

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly.  The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.  

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room.  You opened the door.  He shut it behind you.