#Ya think I dropped this ship well think again in this case they still own me
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silverbastardgoldenfool · 2 years ago
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Okay so, since you may be able to tell my RotE fever has returned I thought it might be time for a little Realm of the Quarantine update/thot dump. May be a little scattered and it gets personal but here we go!
1. Yes, it has been a fucking full year between finishing Mad Ship and finally cracking open Ship of Destiny, but yes, we are still going! Again, I have been following my sister's pace with this read, and she is chronically ill and a parent of a wild 4 year old (who I essentially co-parent just btw) so her capacity to read at all can fluctuate wildly. She was maybe a quarter through Ship of Destiny when she fell into a severe slump and so I just never started it after finishing Mad Ship. She picked up the book every so often but I wasn't confident she would keep it up and I preferred to be stuck between books than between chapters. Anyway, she finally hit her stride in December and finished Liveship, and now she is almost finished Fool's Errand!! She was literally sobbing today and I was like oh shit it's happened... Nope it's only the bit where Fitz and Dutiful go through the skill pillar leaving the Fool and Nighteyes behind 🙃 honey, you got a big storm comin (I'm sorry)
2. Realm of the Quarantine? Still? Yeah, for the sake of tagging it doesn't make sense to change the name, but also my brother just got covid 🙃 first one in our family (he's okay!!) so the legacy lives on I guess. Anyway I think the name will always fit because it's a good way of tying it to the when and why of its beginnings. Literally insane that this will be the third year of this reread lol huh??
3. On that note, I cannot WAIT for the day I get to inhale this series again at my own (supremely unhealthy) pace. I was so looking forward to picking up on all the nitty gritty details and through lines because this is my first time reading chronologically and yeah I still can to an extent but it's now once again been years since I read the first books so ya know, the cohesion just isn't there.
4. On THAT note, I have definitely been pretty rusty getting back into the series. I'm engaged and enjoying it while I'm reading but you should see the amount of tabs compared to the others lol, and the amount of notes. I think it's just taking a while for my feelings about the story to kick back in all the way, but that is definitely happening more and more as I go on (almost halfway through now)! There are also just a lot of dropped threads, things I was keeping track of in my notes before which I don't have a clear enough memory of to keep following now, so it's honestly just kind of hard to know what kinds of things I should be noting? But again that's getting better. I might actually read my notes from the previous books tomorrow cos that would help, I'm sure. All this is linked with the fact that my sister, neice and I have just moved into our own place together, out from an extremely unhealthy situation. The move was really sudden, and although an incredible opportunity it was also inhumanly stressful and exhausting. I became severely dissociated and I'm still finding my way back to myself. But honestly getting back to RotE has been a big help with that!! It's just that yeah, there are so many disconnects whether it's my memory, the flow of the story being interrupted by a long break or my ability to feel much. It's all getting better. But I just wanted to put that out there in case my Ship of Destiny write up ends up being a bit of a skinny legend :( I know it doesn't actually matter I just am kinda sad about it because this trilogy is so dense and I was connecting so many dots and now it's like someone came and cut all the strings on my serial killer corkboard and I'm starting from scratch. But oh well!!
5. There is no greater motivator for reading than to know your sister is experiencing some absolute fucking PEAK Fitz and the Fool content without you
6. Speaking of which, you may notice a contradiction between my stated disconnect from Liveship and claiming my RotE madness is back. Well, this is actually not an entirely new phenomenon. Last time I was reading Liveship I wasn't disconnected from it, but it did still ignite my Fitz/Fool rabies. I'd be reading Liveship all day, perhaps without so much as a mention of Amber popping up, yet spend all night dreaming about Fitz and the Fool? Honestly just takes the most flimsy of threads for those two to hijack my brain. But I'm not complaining about it.
7. Sadly have not been struck with inspiration for memes yet, but hopefully Sa will bless me soon.
8. Long story short, I'm back and becoming more and more obsessed every day which strangely is a sign I'm doing much better lol. It sounds strange but if my sister keeps this going and I can make it through Tawny Man without any major interruptions I think it'll genuinely be really good for my mental health. The ability to get excited about something, be unapologetically passionate, think critically, experience a masterpiece which might inspire me to do some writing of my own and just generally spend time on something I love are all things that have been missing from my life. Returning to RotE is far from the most important change in my life right now but it is intrinsically tied to those changes. A friend to accompany me on this new road. Sorry to be cheesy I just honestly have worked so relentlessly and hopelessly hard to get here all while never really believing I would arrive. I still don't really believe it but I want to. The fact I even have the mental clarity or will to put this post together is remarkable on its own. So I'm taking stock. I've missed talking shit with you guys, I hope we all have a beautiful year 💫
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arcadianambivalence · 1 year ago
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World on Fire, Season 2, Episode 3 - What is the Value of a Life?
Directed by: Meenu Gaur
Written by: Matt Jones
The Egyptian Storyline
Harry and Lois
Last episode, Stan had a moment where he asked Harry if they were in Egypt or Libya. Well, now we’re in Libya–and on the retreat back towards Tobruk, a city near the border with Egypt and the Mediterranean. A city that would switch hands repeatedly for the first half of the war. In the past, characters have encountered sandstorms, landmines, and Italian troops. Now they have to get past the arrival of German forces (Rommel is even name dropped because, let���s face it, he’s the only major German officer most of the audience recognizes). This means it must be around March 1941, so a few months have passed between the end of last episode and the beginning of this one.
In those months, Lois’s mental and physical health seems to have improved with the Auxiliary Territorial Service. Stationed in Cairo as an ambulance driver, she is throwing herself into her work, quickly fixing the engine and getting along with her coworker (whom the PBS transcript calls Pearl). But still, she’s throwing herself into work and brushing off the chance to eat anything. Food isn’t normally talked about in this show, so I’m concerned whether this is a sign of something else going on. Maybe she’s not doing as well as she looks. But this newfound resolve is put to the test when she finds Harry’s name among the papers of incoming wounded. (What are the odds, am I right?)
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While Lois has improved, Harry certainly hasn’t. That old wound in his leg that reopened last episode? It’s infected. (Just like I said it would be. Listen to the medic, Harry!) His papers say diphtheria. At the beginning of the episode, Harry had time to help a wounded soldier into a medic tent before collapsing himself. The two men were sent to a hospital in Cairo, where they’d be further from the front, to recuperate. We don’t see any of Harry’s treatment, but it presumably helps because the next thing we know, he’s awake enough to recognize Lois, who can’t help but catch a peek at him. 
They have a sweet talk, where Lois confesses that yes, she spoke with such finality the last time she saw Harry because she wanted it to be the last time she saw anyone. But now she’s better, she rushes to add. (And while I’m glad that at least one character with PTSD is recovering, I’m selfish and want to see characters go through that journey on screen! Could we at least have a scene of her arriving in Cairo and getting the light back in her eyes?) 
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Kasia, Jan, and Grzegorz are fine too, Lois says. It was Kasia who convinced her to fight.
Lois: That's the difference between us, Harry. You've got somebody to miss. Somebody waiting. Harry: In that case, maybe you and I could swap uniforms, and I could take the next ship out, disguised as you. Lois: Nice try, but you haven't got the legs for it.
He takes everything very well, and he’s already a very empathetic guy, but one has to wonder how much of his dazed speech is from morphine. She takes his hand. He talks about how they’re part of each other because they had a kid together. You can’t change the past, ya di ya-da. He brings up Kasia, and Lois drops his hand. And we’re back on this again. 
Lois, you were doing so well! Let him go so you can grow as a character!
But she makes a point to Harry that he shouldn’t be fighting the war because he thinks it’s some chivalrous or idealist thing for protecting women and children and whatever. He should have his own reason to fight, just as Lois does, just as Kasia does, just as everyone else. That leaves him with something to ponder, something that goes back to Rajib’s theme. What is he doing here?
The British Storyline - Part 1
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Kasia and James
Similarly, Kasia is struggling to know who she can be if she isn’t a soldier/member of the resistance. As members of the audience, we know that something is up with James (is this is first or last name?), that her suspicion of him is worthwhile, but take that away and you have another character experiencing symptoms of PTSD:
Feelings of detachment, even from family and friends (her feelings towards Harry, never leaving the Chase residence, apparently)
Numbness, trouble accepting positive emotions (the happiest we’ve seen her this season is embracing her brothers and joking about war with Jan)
Vigilance and preparing for danger (patrolling the house at night and overhearing James on the radio, sneaking into his bedroom to dig through his suitcase)
Difficulty sleeping (Sir James knows Kasia has nightmares)
Then there are signs of Complex PTSD:
Sense of shame, guilt, and/or worthlessness (calling herself the woman Harry “got stuck with”)
Difficulty with regulating emotions (punching the man in episode 1)
Trouble connecting with others (she hasn’t made a single friend despite being in England for months)
Difficulty keeping close relationships (not just with Robina…I mean, that’s obvious, but even with Jan, and her instant distrust of James)
And that’s just from the few scenes we’ve had with her over three episodes!
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But she does correctly deduce that he is part of military intelligence and asks if he can send her back to Poland. He refuses, to her dismay, but there are ways she can contribute from England.
During their first conversation, the Warsaw Ghetto is mentioned. Kasia says she already knows about it, a reference to Tomasz from season 1. Will she ever have someone to confide in again, who won’t turn around and leave like Harry keeps having to do? I wonder if the show will take characters back to Poland for the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising in 1943.
PTSD symptoms from the Mayo Clinic
C-PTSD symptoms from the NHS
Quick notes:
I forgot to mention this last episode, but Jan was reading The Hobbit!
James seems angry Kasia figured out his secret job instead of impressed with her intelligence. There's quite a difference between his terseness with Kasia versus the charm he puts on with Robina.
James diffuses a situation between Robina and Joyce, then says that he hopes he didn’t overstep the mark. The mark, eh? Another dual meaning for intelligence/spycraft.
Robina references the Jarrow March, a major protest against poverty and unemployment in the industrial city of Jarrow in 1936.
James continues to walk the line between flirting and friendliness with Robina, referring to himself as a bachelor and fun uncle. There’s more sexist talk of maternal instincts and Kasia’s apparent lack of them (Vera isn’t her child. Where is this talk about Harry’s paternal instincts? Or your grandmaternal instincts?)
Robina admits that her first marriage wasn’t for love, but out of obligation.
And speaking of obligation over choice….
The German Storyline
Marga finally arrives at the Lebensborn, a palace (?) in Brandenburg with lush gardens and vibrant green grass. A troop of young women exercise on the front lawn as a recording of the Nazi anthem, the Horst Wessel Song, plays. Their movements are slow and graceful, like they’re underwater, like this is a dream. But very quickly, the dream begins to unravel.
The young women are told that they will only be referred to as “Mother,” not by their own names. They have no family, no past, only no future. After a medical exam, they’ll be allowed to congregate with a “partner” for three days before switching. Like a fucked up square dance.
Marga is given an invasive examination by a male gynecologist, and for the first time, she starts to feel used. Next, her skull is measured, her period dates charted, and she is made to sign away any rights to her potential child(ren). I haven’t found a ton of resources on the Lebensborn program, so I can’t say if these inspections would be part of the official program, but all of these things go back to the Nazi obsession with the concept of “race” and “purity.” She’s treated like a datasource (or, more broadly, a source of a future baby) instead of a person. Her personhood, opinions, and feelings do not matter.
Then she confesses that her mother hasn’t explained what sex is to her.
So that would be one of the reasons why she was so keen to do this. Add that to the long list of reasons why mandatory sex education is necessary for young people. Someone (I’m not sure what her job is, but she seems like the equivalent of a headmistress or prison warden) gives her a book on the subject. Marga is disgusted, but she still tries to make the most of the situation. 
She wears her hair down for the first time and dons a flowery pink dress, which she may think makes her look older, but really just emphasizes to the audience how young she is. This is a girl who still signs her name with a flower at the end. She’s a sixteen year old who just learned the details of sex, and now she’s potentially “partnering” with a man in his late 20s to early 30s. At first, she makes eyes with a younger guy (still several years older than her), then the young man is physically eclipsed by a much taller, older officer. Not just any army officer, though. He’s a Sturmbannfuhrer, a paramilitary officer who took part in the invasion of France. It’s like watching a little fish being approached by a shark.
The officer bluntly schedules coitus for 10 o’clock that night, if she agrees. Looking uncomfortable, she accepts. Remember Robina’s conversation with James about consent and obligation? That conversation was there to thematically set up this scene. At 10 o’clock that night, he enters her bedroom. There is no conversation, just the loud silence that falls around every piece of clothing removed, then a cut to Marga holding in her tears until he shuts the door behind him.
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(It's also one of the few scenes that isn't dripping with flags and deathsheads.)
The next morning, they sit together as others look on and whisper about his rank. This time, there are no more girly pinks and floral dresses. She wears a simple blue sweater. While she picks at her food, he gorges on steak and eggs. She stares at his mouth, as if she’s the one being served on a platter. The moment makes me think of that scene in the Return of the King that cuts from a battle to Denethor’s mouth running red with tomato juice.
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Before I move on, I want to take a moment to praise Meenu Gaur’s direction for this episode. When I first saw this episode, I remember thinking “This must be directed by a woman” when the episode focused on Marga’s discomfort before the sex scene. The situation was handled with a kind of discretion and sensitivity I’ve unfortunately come to not expect out of any TV drama’s portrayal of young women and sexuality. (Isn’t it sad that a scene that’s been built up as something horrific and cuts on the implication feels like it’s out of the norm for me? Maybe I need a break from television dramas.) Anyway, Gaur directed episode 5 of this season, so I’m looking forward to that.
The French Storyline
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Luc and Albert
Albert and Luc’s location is finally revealed: Romainville, Paris, which means they are in Fort de Romainville. 
Albert gives Luc the bottle smuggled into the camp last episode. Luc thanks him and warns him that there are no black people left in Paris. Germans have taken away all of them, of Algerian and French nationalities. Albert hides how this news troubles him and instead says he knows how to make himself invisible.
When Luc and Albert drink the liquid in the bottle, they become violently ill and are taken to the camp hospital. Miles, a fellow prisoner, dryly jokes that he’ll miss the lunch. If anyone out there has an aversion to vomit scenes, you’d best close your eyes and put the scene on mute. It goes on for a few minutes.
That night, they climb out of their beds and wait for Henriette’s sister. To pass the time, they talk about what they’ve missed the most about the outside world. Albert reminisces about his flat in Paris, his work at the nightclub, and (in flashback) his relationship with Webster. This last part, he can’t risk saying out loud, even to Luc. Parker Sawyers gives a really moving performance during this scene. His eyes are full of wistfulness and pain as he whispers about a safe and accepting world that has now been wiped from existence.
Perhaps because of this realization, that there is no place for him to truly hide as a black, gay French African man with no identity papers and no real escape waiting for him on the outside, that when the time comes for Albert to follow Luc out the hospital window, he refuses, slamming the window shut.
Henriette
Things are not safe for Henriette, either. A group of German officers confront her about missing supplies, to which she cooly lies about trading morphine for sulfonamide with a local university to treat venereal diseases in the occupying soldiers. Later, they return to the hospital and ransack some of the supply rooms while they look for her. Henriette barely escapes with the help of other members of a resistance cell. At the end of the episode, she wears civilian clothes as she emerges from the back of a truck parked at the edge of a forest.
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On Fort de Romainville
A book about Eddie Chapman (Agent Zigzag) held there
An archive for people from the Channel Islands who were imprisoned during WW2
The British Storyline - Part 2
David
David has moved from Manchester to Kent, the coastal county that’s spitting distance from the French coast. Much of the aerial conflict over Britain occurred in this area (covered by No. 16 Group), as the German planes would cross over the county to bomb London and major air stations like Biggin Hill.
He jokes to a fitter (the guy in charge of preparing the plane) that the reason he’s been transferred to Kent is because “The RAF’s been trying to kill me for years. Every time I survive, they give me a more dangerous job.” His new mission is to fly across the English Channel (nicknamed “the drink” by pilots) and figure out where the Germans are stationed by drawing their fire and recording the location. There are a few things working against him:
Fuel - the plane’s tank has room for only so much fuel for the trip to France and back, so all flights have to be timed around this limitation. Given that he’s going over water, it’s crucial for him to return to English soil before he runs out.
Weather - it’s late winter/early spring, so he has to contend with cloud cover, which would be good for hiding from the Luftwaffe, but on the other hand, it diminishes visibility when flying over the kind of base he’s looking for.
Then there’s the fact that succeeding in his mission means getting shot at. Which he does. 
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Not-so-fun fact: To get out of some aircraft models at the beginning of the war, British pilots would literally have to flip the plane belly-up, open the canopy and drop out of the moving plane before they could pull their parachute.
If the cylinders plane’s engine were shot, the engine would catch fire and quickly spread to the cockpit where the pilot would be sitting. A pilot would have roughly eight seconds after the ignition of the fire to shift the plane into a safe downward angle towards a crash-landing site, undo the release clip tethering him to his seatbelt, and bail out. All while reeling at the fact that he’s going to die in the next breath if he doesn’t.
Luckily for David, the engine isn’t on fire (yet), so he has a little more time to react as the plane hurdles towards a forest in enemy territory. He is able to bail out, but that’s the last of his luck. Even with a parachute slowing his fall, he crashes through treetops, coming to consciousness covered in blood and badly injured. He’s able to clip himself free of the parachute and drag himself behind a bush before a group of German soldiers, drawn by the obvious British plane and bright white parachute, can find him.
What was it Henriette said last episode about rescuing downed British pilots? I think we found someone in need of her expertise…if the Germans don’t capture him first.
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Kent in WW2
Biggin Hill
RAF Ground Crew
Life in the Ground Crew
The Libya Storyline
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Rajib and Stan
I saved the best for last.
While Harry is being whisked away from the medic station, Stan is left behind in the retreat to Tobruk. In a reversal of the first episode this season, only Rajib is around to offer him a ride. With a big grin on his face, Rajib welcomes Stan to the British Indian Army.
Stan soon learns that they aren’t headed toward Tobruk with the rest of the retreating forces, but the Axis-occupied Msus. Their journey is cut short, however, when Germans start to fire on their truck. In the confusion, Stan and Rajib get separated from the rest of the group and run out of bullets to fight back. As Rajib is the highest ranking officer, Stan automatically defers to him in all matters–but not without complaining. When Rajib plans to steal a German truck, he theatrically checks his empty pockets for ammo.
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(Grand Theft Auto: Desert Edition)
What follows is classic buddy comedy stuff: Banter over their next move. Steal a jeep. Get lost in the desert. Play chicken with a German motorcyclist and take him prisoner. Rely on each other to survive without losing themselves. Nearly die of thirst. Just guy things.
To keep their (very young) prisoner of war from trying to escape, Rajib orders the German soldier to remove his uniform as Stan balks. He can’t get far without clothes, Rajib reasons. 
Stan: You're as bad as Harry. Rajib: Because I won't let a man starve? Stan: He's the enemy. Rajib: He's a boy. Letting him live will not alter the outcome of the war. Stan: Like I said, just like Harry. It's not even your war. Rajib: Now you sound like my brother. Stan: Yeah, well, they ain't dropping bombs on Delhi, are they? Rajib: If Britain loses this war, then Germany isn't going to turn India down, is it? They won't need to bomb Delhi. They just need Britain to lose.
Other than the strip down to underwear, Rajib tries to treat the soldier (Bruno) as well as he can. He splits what provisions they can find among the three men and, when Bruno falls out of the jeep, demands that Stan turn the truck around to find him. 
Rajib: Turn the vehicle around. Stan: We are running on fumes as it is. Do you even know how far Tobruk is from here? Rajib: That's an order, Sergeant. Stan: We're at war! With them! Rajib: And if we behave like them, what will we be if we win? Stan: Alive, that's what!
Then Rajib makes Stan confront his own biases, challenging his subconscious xenophobia.
Rajib: You refused once before accepting my invitation to evacuate.Didn't want to travel with brown-skinned men? Stan: I'm not like that. Don't make me out to be like that. Rajib: Then why did you refuse?
Finally, Rajib gives what I consider to be the best line of dialogue from the episode, if not the entire show:
“The value of a life is the value of a life is the value of a life!”
Reluctantly, Stan turns the jeep around to find Bruno, and from here on, David Lean has his fingerprints all over the cinematography. They track down Bruno with the last of the jeep’s fuel, then proceed to walk through the desert in broad daylight with no food or water left. The sun beats down on them as they stumble through a landscape that grows ever bigger with every new shot.
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At last, they arrive at a British posting. Recognizing Stan as a British officer, the guards rush to provide him and Bruno water, brushing off Rajib. Dehydrated and on the verge of losing consciousness, Rajib collapses.
In an interview with Jace Lacob for the Masterpiece Studio podcast, Meenu Gaur describes the scene as this:
“It’s this sort of almost desperate belief he has about the goodness and the equality and all the great values that he fights for, we fight for as human beings. And in that one moment, [...] you see his heart break, he knows that it’s not true. The value of a life is not the value of a life.”
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Stan sees this and desperately begins to shout “He’s a British officer. You should go to him!” He has, at least, learned from Rajib. In the final moments of the episode, the music swells as Rajib is given a flask and struggles to lift it to his mouth, so close, and yet so far.
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perelka-l · 2 years ago
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Darktober number 10!!! Cute date 😊
I also wanted to test my shiny new Holbein brush 💕 (it's so big for a size two... But I like it!)
Inks used: Atrament Pióromaniaka Retro, Diamine Aurora Borealis and Krishna Inks Overcast Deep Purple.
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skellebonez · 3 years ago
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Why Worry At All?
I had so much trouble writing certain parts of this out for some reason, which makes no sense to me because I chose to write this on my own without a prompt. But I finally nailed out the in between parts that were giving me trouble! So... Billy Kametz can sing, huh?
Xiaotian knew what they were hearing. They knew it!
They'd heard Xiaojiao before and she wasn't that deep. They'd never heard Sandy but he had to sound much deeper if he could. Tang and Pigsy were out of the question, Tang couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and Pigsy never did more than hum at a much different octave. It couldn't have been Wukong, he'd still been asleep from overexerting himself in their last fight.
So that only left Macaque as the one who could have been singing outside the med bay door.
“But then I guess we know there’s blame to share... and none of it seems to matter anymore...”
It was such a soft tune, something that Xiaotian barely recognized from a video online he watched long ago. Maybe something Xiaojiao had shown him. Something soft and gentle, which made no sense given the possible culprit. Or the fact he heard it being sing just outside his mentor’s room while he was checking on him. But he was hearing it through the door nonetheless. Almost whisper like in how soft it was, it was too weak to have been heard belted from a distance, and muttered almost a bit off tune. That only left it being from someone right outside the door. But why not just come inside?
Unless the singer, who again Xiaotian was certain was Macaque, didn’t want anyone- even Sun Wukong- to know it was them who was singing and they didn’t realize that anyone was in the room with the power drained immortal.
So, like anyone who heard a mysterious singing voice would do, they pulled out their phone and started recording.
The song only lasted for another few seconds before silence, and then the almost deafening in comparison sound of running footsteps.
And as Xiaotian looked down at the recording on the phone, less than even 20 seconds in length, they were struck by a realization.
“... I can use this.”
~
“Well well well,” Macaque said with a chuckle, turning to face the person who joined him on the deck of the self piloting drone ship. Just where they knew he would be at this hour of the morning. “Didn’t take you for a morning person, kid.”
“I’m not,” Xiaotian grumbled, hair down and unkempt and clearly barely brushed just to keep it out of their face. "But I wanted to check on Wukong after what happened yesterday.”
This made the other’s fur stand up and his tail tense, though whether this was because he realized what Xiaotian meant or of it brought his mind back to the fight of the day prior they couldn’t tell. The fight that, for some reason, Macaque left himself vulnerable during. That left him wiped out and barely able to move out of the way of an oncoming attack. That make Sun Wukong rush in and save him much to the surprise of everyone involved, Macaque himself included.
The fight that Xiaotian was beginning to think was going to change a lot more than just knowing the de-powered duo’s limits.
“You’re going to be honest with me for once.” they proposed, joining the immortal monkey at the guard railing he casually leaned against.
“What makes you think I’m going tell you anything?” Macaque asked, chuckling boastfully and smirking that damn smug smirk he’d been wearing almost every minute since he had been taken onto the ship.
The longer Xiaotian saw it the faker it seemed to be.
“Oh, I dunno... maybe this?” They rebutted, pulling out their phone and hitting play on the open audio file they had pulled up long before the conversation, and they watched with their own smirk as a look of surprise and then horror and then something akin to “resigned but impressed” flashed on the ancient demon’s face.
After hearing the other speak there was no doubt that the two voices were identical now.
“Qi Xiaotian,” Macaque said, an almost cat like smirk gracing his face. This one seemed slightly more honest than the last one. “I didn’t take you for a blackmailer. Maybe I did have an influence on you after all.”
“Why were you singing this outside Wukong’s room?” Xiaotian asked, not in the mood for playing the other’s games this early in the morning. “Why were you trying to hide it? Why did you not realize I was in there? And...” He gestured to his phone, the soft gentle sounds of an almost uncharacteristically sweet song playing through his speakers. “What the hell is this song!?”
“Alright alright,” Macaque said, holding up his hands before he leaned forward on the railing. “No need to give the the third degree, great hero. It’s just a song I heard online.”
“You know how to use the internet?”
Turning his head, Macaque leveled the other with a very over exaggerated wilting gaze of disbelief. “I am honestly offended you’d think I wouldn’t learn how to.”
The tone of voice he had did not give the impression that Macaque even gave a shit, but Xiaotian muttered an apology regardless, to which the other simply laughed at.
“There’s this guy... Bill something? Kinds sounds like me, you know. Found him by chance one day and just kinda looked for all his songs and memorized them a long time ago out of boredom.” He shrugged, a distant far off look on his face. “Almost considered just being a copy cat voice for him once, way before I found out where our great King was, but I never followed through with that. Shame, though, knowing I’m on par with Broadway. Probably could have snagged a pretty decent amount of yuan from desperate fans. Don’t really have much use for money, though so eh.”
He shrugged, and for once he sounded... honest. Just honest.
“I wasn’t really trying to hide it, not from you anyway. Just... didn’t wanna deal with Wukong waking up and hearing me sing for the first time after. Ya know.” He waved his hand with another shrug. “History and all that. It was just a moment I had with myself, nothing more.”
Xiaotian took particular note that he avoided one particular question.
“You’re awful open about all this stuff,” the Monkie Kid mused, the two of them watching the horizon slowly move under the drone ship as the sun rise continued. Everyone else would be getting up soon enough. “Even for blackmail.”
“It’s not really effective blackmail,” Macaque admitted after a moment, tail lazily swishing behind him. “Not content wise, anyway. I was bound to be heard eventually no matter how much I hid. Think of this as more a... reward for you being able to catch me unaware. Take a lot of skill to do that with my ears.”
“I know most of your powers are gone too,” Xiaotian said bluntly, dropping the real piece of information he was here to hold over the other’s head out in the open, and that got Macaque to freeze instantly. “Not like ours are but... I dunno. I didn’t really think that far ahead. But if you still had most of them we wouldn’t be talking right now. You ran away instead of just whooshing into the shadows I know were in the hall. You’ve been wearing earplugs since we let you stay, I saw Sandy give them to you and you’re even wearing them right now, but even with your hearing dulled you would have been able to know I was in that room. You’ve been walking through doors instead of just vanishing. I don’t think I’d seem you walk through one except for at the shadow play before last week, and that was obviously to get my attention. I don’t think I’ve seen you make a clone or transform either, or manipulate a single shadow. Why not flaunt your powers over us, knowing we don’t have ours since you’ve made a point to annoy us about our lost abilities, unless you don’t have yours too?”
The elder said nothing, only growled and glowered out at the horizon before letting out a deep sigh.
“You really are a good kid,” he said with a humorless chuckle. “Smart, too, when actually you put your mind to stuff. But you’re only half right.”
“What do you mean?” Xiaotian asked in shock, amazed that the other was even still admitting to anything point blank at this point.
“I still have all my powers, it’s just... Not a good idea for me to use them too much,” he said vaguely, shrugging his shoulders and turning to walk away from the young man in a way that clearly indicated this line of conversation was over with. “I know you can keep a secret, kid, so do me a favor. Keep quiet about this.”
That same humorless chuckle, the one the young man now realized was more common from the demon’s mouth than not, sounded as he stepped into the forming shadows of the driver’s post from the rising sun and seemed to fall and melt into the floor in an instant.
Xiaotian couldn’t help the flinch that ran through their body at the implications of that final sentence. His training of Xiaotian. The second meeting. The Calabash.
The White Bone Spirit...
“Asshole,” Xiaotian muttered under their breathe, taking the door instead.
~
The very first thing Xiaotian was greeted with when they entered the communal kitchen was low and muttered but still the less than whispered tune of a song by a pop punk bank from overseas.
“Why do we worry at aaaaall,” Macaque sang just loud enough for everyone around him to hear, the baffled and in some cased impressed faces of everyone (barring the presumably still resting Wukong) looking in his direction as he seemingly ignored them to prepare his own fruit based breakfast. “Why, just tell me why do we worry? When worries never happen tell me why, why worry at all?”
When Macaque turned to look at Xiaotian he smirked almost playfully, winking at him.
And the only thing that ran through Xiaotian’s head was “there goes half of my blackmail... asshole.”
Though... when he looked closer...
Macaque seemed oddly tired.
Did he have the dark bags under his eyes during their conversation before?
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quinncupine · 4 years ago
Note
Yo imagine being in the general class of UA and being recovery girl’s little apprentice/intern and one of the 1A boys constantly getting hurt (whether its on purpose or accidentally ) as an excuse to come visit; I’m imagining todoroki or kaminari because I’m in a mood for those 2 and Deku wouldn’t need to an excuse 🙄
Ha, of course Deku wouldn't need an excuse!🙄 That's his second home at this point. I’ve never written for Kaminari before so this was a fun little experience! Sorry I’m answering this so late, I took a little writing break last week, but now I’m back on the grind! (Also I tried to keep this gender neutral as well!)
Word count: ~2.8K
Wanna request something?
Quinns Masterlist!
Midoriya, Kaminari, and Todoroki with Intern!Reader
Midoriya
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"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya," a soft voice sighed in mock exasperation. "How did I know I would find you here yet again."
Izuku flinched and looked up from his spot on the bed to see you casually leaning against the doorframe. That signature white lab coat draped over your form suited you perfectly. You looked like a real doctor standing there with the little clipboard tucked neatly into your waist and that warm smile radiating off you. To say that your smile had an effect on him was an understatement.
"Uh," he chuckled with a nervous smile, "sorry, I know I was just here yesterday."
"Yesterday? Midoriya, you've been here every day this week." Hopping off the door frame, you crossed your arms. "Do you wanna see me that bad?"
It was only a joke, but his face flushed a bright crimson at your words. Suddenly, every spot other than you seemed much more interesting to stare at, so he didn't catch that smirk lighting up your face as you stepped into the room.
A quick flip through the probably too many pages in his chart that he'd racked up this year alone, "So, what's it this time?"
"Just a sprained wrist," he held up said wrist. "I thought it was fine, but then it started to swell so I, uh, thought I should come here…just in case."
"And how did it happen?" you set the chart down and pulled the little wheeled stool to sit in front of him. With gentle fingers, you prodded the bruised skin.
At your touch, he stiffened. You were so close, eyes solely focused on his wrist. While you were examining him, he took the opportunity to stare at you with those giant green eyes of his, cataloging every inch of your face. When you began your internship with Recovery Girl, he was shocked the first time he walked in here to see you instead of the older woman. Not that he was complaining. You were way more amiable with him and although you didn't appreciate him injuring himself so much, he'd come to quite like these little meetings with just the two of you.
"Lucky for you, it's not too bad," you decided, looking up to meet his deer-eyed gaze. One which he promptly looked away from. "Ice it for twenty minutes a few times today and the swelling should go down. I'll get you a compression bandage." When you stood up to root through the doors for the bandage, you glanced back at him. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"
"Concrete actually," he stuttered out. "I missed my opponent, couldn't stop my follow-through in time."
The power he held always amazed you, but you were always the one to see the after-effects during training. He was strong to a point of recklessness. Something he really needed to work on. Finally finding the bandages, you walked back to your stool.
"Well, I hope you kicked that wall's ass then." Grabbing his hand, you locked eyes with him, "just don't overdo it too much. You only have two hands so try and keep them for at least a few more years yeah?"
Izuku was only half-listening, too entranced by your touch to keep up with the conversation. As you carefully wrapped his wrist, he sat back, taking the time to take in your image. This was really the only time he ever got to see you. The support department was on the opposite side of campus and those classes rarely ever teamed up. Besides, you were part of the relief support courses, not tactical, which meant the two of you would never train together while here. And while you were great at this part, patching him up right quick, and sending him on his way, he couldn't help but wish you were slower. All he wanted was to just sit here forever with you, injuries be damned.
"Right then, here we are," Straightening up, you finished wrapping the limb, and with a double check to make sure everything was in order, you smiled up at him. "You know, I should start charging each time you come in here. I bet you'd be able to cover this entire department's budget in a week.
"Oh, you think so?" the way he cocked his head, that cute little innocent widening of his eyes seemed to inject serotonin straight into your veins. The boy was just too adorable for his own good and he didn't even know it. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."
"A bother? You?" An airy laugh blew past your lips. "My day would be so boring if I didn't have my favorite patient to keep me company." He tried his best to hide that all too obvious blush creeping up his neck. "Although, I could do without all the injuries you seem to be racking up."
Izuku turned his focus to the newly wrapped wrist, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you or he might combust on the spot. When you left his side to go wash your hands, he finally sneaked a peek. Now that you were done, he was going to have to leave. He didn't want to leave. He liked being here with you. For whatever reason, anytime you were near him, his heart raced and he felt lightheaded, but also a million times better, even with whatever injuries he was sporting. If he didn't already know your quirk, he would've thought you had the ability to heal with just a simple smile. You were an adrenaline boost he always looked forward to.
"You're not always here, right?" the words left his mouth before he even realized he said them aloud. "I, uh, I mean, you do other things outside the recovery ward?"
"Sure," you shrugged, drying your hands. "You're not always training, right?" With a pause you shook your head, "wait, don't answer that. I think I already know that answer." Casting a smirk at him, he looked down at his shoes, a smile of his own taking root. "I'll have you know I do do other things besides patching up one Mr. Broken Bones Midoriya."
"Oh yeah, of course, you do!" he tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth. "I just mean that your really cool and stuff but I never really see you other than here and I know the campus is big, but I just thought that maybe you, or I, or, or…uh…" he was running out of gas and confidence so he decided to abandon ship and jump to his feet, intent on escaping this sinking boat. "Um, anyway, thanks for the uh-thanks for this!" Waving his wrist, he made for the exit but before he could make his hasty getaway, you stepped in front of him.
"Geez Midoriya, calm down," it was like trying to corral a frantic bunny. The boy's eyes were darting all over the place, probably looking for a different escape route. "Tell ya what, when that wrist heals up and if you don't get any more injuries before the weekend, let's see if we can change not seeing each other around."
Izuku froze, the words processing in his mind a few times before they finally clicked. "You mean like a-a…"
"Just try not to get hurt for at least a few days? You placed a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "Think you can manage that?"
He'd never been so motivated to stay this healthy before. A furious nod and you sent him off with a wink. When the door closed, he slumped against the wall outside, bandaged wrist against his chest, trying to stop the mini horse race trampling through his chest. What he didn't know was that you were on the opposite side of that door, one hand to your own chest, the other trying to combat the heat on your cheeks. You'd been working up the courage to do that all week because god knows when Midoriya would ever find the courage to do it. An all too excited squeal rushed out of your mouth before you could stop it. This was going to be an interesting week.
 KAMINARI
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You could hear the babbling from down the hall before you saw him. That stupid deep-fried laugh was synonymous with one person and one person only. Dropping the pen and whirling around in your chair, you leaned your elbow on the armrest as two of the school's med bots ushered Denki in. Thumbs up and that dopey smile plastered on his face had you trying your best to contain the giggle building in your throat.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," you smirked at the blonde who'd been sat on one of the beds. "Go over your limit again Kaminari?"
"Yay…" he mumbled and fell back on the bed with a groan.
It wasn't the first time he'd come in with a fried brain and if there was one thing you knew about him, it wouldn't be the last. The good thing is he usually just needed to sleep it off for a bit. But being the ever diligent medical intern, you came over to check him over.
Denki laid sprawled out on the bed, hands finally giving out and falling to his side. After a quick examination, he appeared to be in working order, just needed a bit of a recharge, so you returned to your paperwork and let him be.
A half-hour later, he sat up with a loud groan, rubbing his head, "Uh, that majorly sucked."
"Ah, so sleeping beauty finally rises," you didn't even turn to him but still felt that charming smile bounce off your back.
"You really think I'm a beauty?" he grinned, standing up to stretch. "You know I'm still pretty sore, I could always get back in bed and we can see if a kiss will make me feel better."
"Tell me," a playful tug on your lips as you twirled in your chair to face him, "do any of those lines ever work?"
"That's for you to answer and for me to find out."
"Sorry to disappoint bud, but I don't think you're gonna like my answer." Satisfied with his little pout, you turned back to continue your work. "You're fine Kaminari, you can go back to class now."
"Aww, but being here with you is so much better," he trudged over to your desk and leaned on the back of the chair. "Can't you write me a doctor's note so I can stay here with your beautiful face for the rest of the day?"
"And what would you even want to do here with me for the rest of the day, hmm?" you hadn't meant it to sound like an innuendo, but judging from his flushed expression, he'd taken it that way.
"Don't tell me you're interested in the medical field now?" it was your attempt to gain control of the conversation again. "And after all that hard hero training you do."
"Uh, I…" a small spark shot between his hands as he tried to think of something to say. You must've really thrown him off this time, although that isn't very hard to do. After a few moments of fidgeting, he deflated and dropped his head. "All right, I'll go back to class."
"Aww come now, don't look so down," you laughed, leaning back in your chair. "I'm sure Mr. Aizawa is much more fun than I am."
"Yeah, if you think torture is fun," he pulled his hair with a whine and slogged towards the door. When he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at you with a forlorn look. "Not even a kiss for the road?"
"Hmm," tapping your chin with the pen, you smirked, "maybe if you come up with a less cheesy pick-up line, then I might be more inclined."
That perked him up more than any jolt of electricity could do. "Well you're in luck babe, I've got plenty of 'em!"
"Let's hear it then, I'm all ears."
"Okay, okay…" he scrunched his face and crossed his arms. You could practically see the gears turning as he thought it through. "Damn," he spoke after a moment, trying to hide his smirk, "you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line."
You chucked the pen at him with a snort, which he narrowly dodged, hopping halfway out the door in the process. "Oh my god Kaminari, I said less cheesy, get out of here!"
That dorky grin back on his face, he held up his hands. "Fine, but don't think I'm finished here. I will find one that works." With a wave, he disappeared, yelling through the door, "mark my words!"
TODOROKI
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Honestly, the scrape wasn't even that bad or that deep, but he still found himself marching towards Recovery girls office in hopes he'd find you there. Ever since you became her intern, he seemed to find himself injured more and more frequently…by total accident of course.
"Oh, Todoroki," you smiled as he walked in. "What brings you in today?"
"I injured my arm during training today," he said flatly, holding the appendage up. There was a sizable gash under what looked like scorch marks. "I thought it best to get it checked out."
"Geez, who were you fighting this time?"
"Bakugo," with a shrug, he glanced at his arm.
"Well, that makes sense," you waved him to one of the beds, "come on, let's have a look then."
Silently, he sat down on the examination bed, the stiff paper ruffling as he scooted back slightly when you approached. His whole body was stiff, eyes staring everywhere but your face. It didn't look much different from his usual self, but internally, he was having a slight meltdown from your mere proximity alone.
Sliding the stool over, you sat down and twisted his left arm back and forth to get a good look, muttering a few things before giving it back. "the cuts shallow which means no stitches, so that's good. Should heal on its own in a few days. I'll just clean it and wrap it, then you're good to go."
"Oh," the word unintentionally slipped out.
When you looked up at him, you noticed the tiniest of pouts forming on his lips. "Unless something else is wrong?"
"No!" he said a little too quickly.
Something else was definitely wrong. Throwing him a quizzical look, you headed for the drawers that held your supplies. "That's good I suppose," you said lightly, "It seems like I've been seeing you almost every day this week alone."
"Sorry," he muttered.
"I didn't say I was complaining," with a grin, you sat back in front of him with sterilizing pads and gauze.
Those words alone were enough for his left side to flare up. When your fingers touched his arm to clean the wound, you flinched away.
"Uh, hey Todoroki," you cocked your head, trying to maintain that professional demeanor Recovery Girl kept pestering you about (although the old woman should take her own advice) and not crack a smile. When his eyes finally met your own, you pointed to his arm, raising a brow. "Might wanna tone down the heat there."
He blinked. Then blinked again before realizing what the problem was. His cheeks flushed almost the same color as his hair and turned his head in embarrassment, rasping out a quiet apology.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" dapping the wound after the skin cooled down, your eyes wandered up to his. "You seem a little worked up."
"Something like that," he mumbled, watching your hands delicately work, using that as a distraction to keep from staring at your face. The same face he could easily find himself lost in if he gave himself the chance. So he decided to change the subject. "It's quiet here." Yeah, way to go, man, real insightful.
"Yeah, Recovery Girl gives me the quietest shifts until I gain enough experience." Once the soot was cleaned off, you grabbed the gauze. "You don't always have to be injured to come visit me, you know." Sparing a quick glance up at him, you started wrapping the limb. "I wouldn't mind the company."
"Am I even allowed in here without an excuse?" It was just a curious question but your frown caught him off-guard, wondering if he said something wrong.
"Couldn't hurt to find out," you mumbled, "I mean we are in an infirmary." Tying off the gauze, you patted just below the cut with a small smile. "Okay, you're all patched up. You're free to go."
"Does it have to be here?" Shoto suddenly stood up, eyes meeting your own.
"What?"
"You said you wouldn't mind the company," he furrowed his brow. "Does it have to be here?"
"Well, no, I was just saying…wait, you wanna see me outside of here?" you gestured around the room, a little baffled.
He nodded, looking less confident by the minute. "If that's alright with you."
The smile that lit up your face was brighter than any flames Shoto could ever hope to produce. "It's more than alright with me."
...
taglist: @dorki-time @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @thecindy @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567
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shyficwriter · 4 years ago
Text
You're Not Broken, Ya Hear Me?
Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter and other Ravagers
Summary: Based off a prompt from my friend @giulscomix where Reader is coming up on a rite of passage involving having her first sexual experience and is very nervous because she doesn't wish to partake, because she's just not interested in sex at all. (i.e: Reader is Ace or Demi) She opens up to Yondu about it after he finds her hidden away and crying about it and he helps her with her problem, making her realize she isn't broken. Inspired by and using lines from this scene in Netflix's Sex Education series.
Author’s Note: Fic is SFW. Sex is talked about (obviously), but no sexual scenes occur. This also takes place in an AU where Yondu never broke the code (yet still has Peter, make that make sense lol) and therefore was never exiled from the other Ravager clans. Also, this is a long one, probably should have broken it into chapters, but here we go lol
Word Count: 10,189
The nervousness inside you grew with every passing day. You were almost seventeen- you should be happy about this! Not filled with dread about what turning that particular year would mean. You glanced at the calendar from your bed. Only three days left.
There was a rite of passage that every young man had taken before you, and would take long after you. They all whooted for joy when their time came, but you couldn't find the enthusiasm to do so, although you did your best to fake it. And as the day grew closer, the more you had to fake it.
Maybe it was because you were the only female Ravager on Yondu's team? Or maybe that had nothing to do with it. Maybe you were just... broken? Why couldn't you just be excited about this like everyone else? That thought made your chest ache as you pulled on your boots.
You didn't want to do it, this stupid rite of passage. No, it wasn't exactly like you'd be forced into a room until you "did the deed," However, you knew to refuse would be to cement your reputation as a lame prude who wouldn't know fun if it crawled up her ass. But still, you really didn't want to.
After all, who would want their first time to just be some random fuck for the sole purpose of "Becoming a man/woman" and an "official part of the crew."? Yes, you wanted more than anything to be accepted, like Peter or the others, but you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved and cared for. Now, this isn't to say that you weren't currently a respected member of the crew, but things were just... different. You knew things would change if the others knew you didn't want to go through with it. You'd be less "one of the guys" and more "the chick with the stick up her butt." You didn't want that.
You stood and took a deep breath, readying your facade before leaving your quarters to make your way down to breakfast.
As always, there were many other Ravagers also making their way from the crew quarters down to the mess hall. And, just how it had started happening the closer it got to that dreaded date, you'd encounter someone looking to congratulate you with a clap on the back, saying things like, "Ayy! How many days is it now? Bet ya can't wait, huh?" or more often, high-fives and fist bumps as your crew mates cheered you on for your upcoming "big day."
You took it all in stride, just like every other day. Big smiles, return the high-five, maybe throw in some finger guns, toss in an affirmative and that you "couldn't wait."
But each time you died just a bit inside. How long could you put on this charade? You knew you wouldn't be able to go through with it. What was going to happen then? What would the rest of the crew say when they found out? Normally it wouldn't be such a big deal for so long, when other guys came of age it was usually forgotten by the others after a few days. However, you were going to come of age the very day of the next scheduled shore leave, which was going to happen in just a few days, and for some reason this just bred excitement among your peers and they wouldn't drop it.
You tried to put these thoughts out of your head as you entered the Mess Hall and got your breakfast.
Today you got to eat in relative peace, the attention being taken up by the story Narblik was telling about his last job on an icy planet and how he hadn't been sure he'd make it back when the blizzard hit. It was when you got up to turn in your tray and leave when a few other's started back up again.
Scrote whooped when he saw you stand, crying out a "Get 'em!" at you and someone else shouted back that you were "Gonna be a man!" until someone shouted back at them "She's a girl!" earning an apology and a correction that you were "Gonna be a woman!" that earned some laughter from the others. You knew the laughter wasn't directed at you, they weren't insulting your looks. Some species on the ship just had a hard time getting genders right because the concept of gender just wasn't a thing on their homeworlds.
You passed Horuz and a young green man named Rahi who high-fived you with an "Ayyy!" as was becoming the custom greeting for anyone wanting to congratulate you on it being almost your big day. You returned the greeting. He had just turned 17 three days before along with another young man he often ran around with, and you heard him talking with some others (There were about 5 or 6 of you all either about to turn the big 17 or who recently had since the last shore leave 3 months ago. It was an abnormally large amount of young people coming of age this time around, which you suspected was further reason why some were making such a bigger deal about this upcoming shore leave.) about being excited for shore leave, as that's when they'd be able to 'become men,' aka, would be able to find a whore to screw. Younger crew often had more of the cleaning jobs aboard the Eclector, and unless assigned with an older crew mate, didn't get to go on many away missions where they could try and woo a willing partner, and even then, Yondu liked quick turnarounds on jobs so there wasn't a whole lot off "goof off" time without being reprimanded. There was no real rule about screwing crew mates either, but most avoided it just in case things got weird after. Easier to just bang someone random on shore leave and then get back to work. No muss no fuss.
Horuz teasingly asked if you had any studs picked out yet and you just laughed and said "Ha, one of these lot? You're joking!" as you put your tray away.
You heard Yondu playfully scold the two from a couple tables over, telling them, "Oh, leave the poor girl alone, yer embarrassin' her!" as he laughed. Horuz just shouted back, "Aw now, I didn't even get to tell her about Oblo here's first time!" This was met with Oblo, who was sitting nearby, choking out a "Hey!" and punching Horuz in the arm.
Kraglin laughed now, "I think she's already heard that one! Let's not ruin anyone's meal now."
You shivered. You had heard the story before. It involved a broken member and many stitches. You weren't looking forward to hearing it again. "I'm out!" you say, looking for a way out of this conversation. "Got work to do." With that you turned and started to leave the mess hall.
"That's what I like to hear!" Yondu laughed from behind you. "Some of you lazy gits should start acting like her, don't wanna work unless yer told to." He knew you were just escaping having to hear the story again, but he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to razz up some of his crew.
You finally make your way out of the mess hall and allow your grin to fall. You run a hand over your face, making your way toward the laundry where you had been assigned to repair one of the machines. You were grateful it was both early in the week as well as early in the day as you entered the room. Most of the crew waited until they were completely out of clean clothes to do their washings, which typically resulted in most of the crew crowding the laundry at the end of the week, so you were sure to have at least an hour or three alone to yourself.
You made your way to the back left-hand corner of the room towards the broken machine. It should be an easy fix, the complaint was that it wasn't draining properly, so you figured it was just a clogged drain hose.
Upon opening up the machine you found you were right. it was just a clog. You retrieved a plumbing snake from a nearby supplies trunk and got to work fishing it out. Unfortunately this menial task gave you enough time to dwell on your problems rather than engaging your brain enough to force them into the back of your mind.
You kept thinking the word "broken" over and over. You couldn't get it out of your head how you couldn't bring yourself to just be excited over something everyone else seemed to love.
Your chest tightened. "Broken.. Loser..." Why couldn't you get over it? Why didn't you have these feelings like all the others?
You latched onto the clog and worked to pull it out. "
Broken..." Why was this so hard? "Broken... Stupid... Wrong..." What was wrong with you? "Stupid... Broken..." Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?!
With that last thought you pulled the clog out with an audible "Pop!" that almost made you fly backwards. You looked at it in disgust and dropped it into the nearby trashcan before re-attaching the hose and sliding down to the floor. No one was going to show up to the laundry this early, might as well take advantage of this time to wallow in your own misery.
That's what you told yourself at least. In truth you could feel tears burning your eyes and didn't want anyone to see you cry. Better to let it happen alone than risk another crew mate seeing you and thinking you were weak.
What you didn't know was that Yondu was also well aware of his Ravager crew's laundry habits, and took advantage of the empty communal laundry room at the beginning of the week to wash his own laundry undisturbed. He made his way down after breakfast, actually having forgotten he had assigned you to fix one of the machines, and was therefore quite surprised to walk in on you sat in the corner crying.
"What d'we have here?" he asked, more puzzled than anything. He never once seen you cry, which now that he thought about it was rather surprising. He saw grown men cry at least twice a week, most of them Peter, but still. He tried to cover up any concern with humor. "Did Halfnut leave his dirty drawers in the machine again? Smell's bad enough to make anyone cry."
You had been startled when he first walked in and you were currently trying to quickly straighten yourself up. "Nothing. Sorry Captain." you said, not looking him in the eye as you bent down to pick up the plumbing snake. "Nearly done here." you say, unable to hide a sniffle.
Yondu plopped his laundry basket on one of the long steel tables running up the middle of the room and sighed, turning to walk towards the door.
You look up in surprise as you heard the lock engage.
He looked at you, arms crossed, and said, "Ya really think I'm gonna buy that? Yer not leaving here until ya spill it. Now what's wrong? Somebody bein' mean to ya? Yer feminine-ly cycle -or whatever it's called- hurtin' ya again?"
You blushed and gave him a sharp look before placing the plumbing snake back where you found it.
Yondu rolled his eyes as he moved his basket over to a machine and tossed his clothes in. "Fine, be that way. But I meant what I said. Ya ain't leavin' til we sort it out. Might as well talk or it's gonna get mighty borin' in here." He turned on the machine and hoisted himself up to sit on the table, patting the space beside him.
You begrudgingly approach, not meeting his eyes, and lifted yourself up to sit down on the table.
"Now what's wrong?" he said again.
You fix your gaze on your lap and sigh. "You're just gonna make fun of me." You say sadly.
Yondu smirks. "Maybe. Still wanna hear it though." Upon seeing your face fall further he elbowed you and said, "I'm jus' kiddin'! What's the long face?"
Your eyes remain down and you quietly say, "I... don't wanna do it."
Yondu raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"I don't wanna do it." you repeat.
"Ya dun wanna do... what?" he asks in confusion. He at first assumed maybe you didn't want to do your assigned morning task of fixing the machine, but it seemed like you had already finished it, so he had no idea what you could possibly mean to even begin to be angry for any disobeyed orders. Also, he doubted he found you crying over something as silly as not wanting to fix a washing machine.
"It," you say, "You know, IT." you make a crude gesture with your fingers, forming a circle in one hand with your thumb and index finger and inserting the index finger of your other hand in and out of it, to hopefully get the point across.
Yondu's eyes widen a bit. "Oh!" he says in surprise, before continuing in confusion, "I don't get it? Ya seemed just as excited as could be a bit ago?"
"I've been faking it. Don't want the others to make fun of me."
"Come now! They won't ma-"
He's cut off by you giving him another sharp look. He looks forward again and nods, sighing, "Yeah, yer right. They will."
The two of you were quiet for a couple moments before Yondu awkwardly broke the silence. "Ya mind if I ask why? Like are ya scared or somethin'?" he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, slight concern painting his features.
He remembered his first time. As a battle-slave he didn't exactly see much action; the Kree weren't exactly fond of the idea of their battle-slaves reproducing or having any fun; and by the time Stakar freed him he was in his twenties. It was shortly after when with some other young Ravagers that the subject came up and he admitted he had never done it, only for his mates to excitedly cheer that they were taking him with them on shore leave so he could "become a man." He had been nervous, though he never expressed it out loud, not wanting to appear weak. He knew they meant well, but screwing a random whore just to fit-in and say he had wasn't something he had exactly been looking forward to, however peer pressure had encouraged him to go through with it. It wasn't too bad, he realized, but even knowing that he himself had come to enjoy the act, he always remembered the knot in his stomach leading up to his first time, and hearing you say that you might be scared of doing it made a similar knot form, only higher in his chest and feeling more like... pity? No, that wasn't quite it. Empathy? Yes, that was probably more accurate. Damn sentiment.
"It's not anything like that... it's just... I don't feel anything like that. I'm not even sure I'd know what that feeling is. It's just not there. I'm not scared, or even disgusted, I just feel... nothing."
"I'm not sure I follow..." Yondu said honestly. He supposed you feeling nothing was better than you being scared, but he still didn't quite understand.
"Ok, like, imagine you're surrounded by a feast, with everything you could ever want to eat, but you're not hungry. That's how I feel. I just don't want any of it," you said. Your voice cracked as you continued, "...and it's just so frustrating. Everyone else gets to be normal, while I just don't feel... anything. I don't want to do it-with anyone. When I think about it I feel nothing- it's like I'm broken." You covered your mouth, still not meeting Yondu's gaze as you tried to hold back frustrated tears.
Hearing you say that you thought you were broken tore at Yondu's heart. He wrapped an arm around you tightly and said in a firm voice, "Ya listen here. Yer not broken. I don't wanna hear that again. Look here."
You reluctantly do as he asks.
"Yer not broken," he said again, his face stern. "Sex doesn't make a person whole, so how could ya ever be broken, girl?"
You inhaled sharply as fresh tears pricked at your eyes. You hadn't realized until then that that was exactly what you needed to hear. You quickly wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest to hide your tears.
Taken aback at he sudden gesture, Yondu patted you on the back comfortingly and returned the hug. Good thing he locked the door. He doubted that any of his crew would be bothered to wash their clothes this early, but still, it would halt the possibility of new rumors that he was "going soft on the Terrans." He honestly wasn't sure he'd sleep tonight if he had to scold you for crying to save face with his crew right now.
You pulled back almost as soon as you went in, straightening up and quickly wiping your eyes.
"Feel better?"
You nodded.
Yondu sighed, "What to do now..." he said thoughtfully. "Ya know, I never actually liked this whole 'rite of passage' thing, to be fully honest. Crew just gets too wound up. Yer not the first to have reservations 'bout it. Handful of lads have come to me over the years, confiding that they were nervous, but scared of being bullied by the rest of the crew if they didn't go through with it. I suspect there might have been more, but were too scared of lookin' weak to tell their captain. I guess I can understand that."
Surprised by this honesty, you asked, "What did they do?"
"Faked it. They'd go on shore leave, pay a whore to put on a good loud show, yelling and banging on the walls 'n stuff, then lap up the congratulations of the rest of the crew for 'becoming a man.'"
You were further surprised that any of the the crew would have been that open with their captain to admit faking it. "Really?" you ask. "They told you about it after?"
"Who d'ya think told 'em to do it?" Yondu said, huffing a laugh out his nose.
That makes you smile, though you aren't quite sure why. After a moment of thought you say, "If you don't like the whole thing, why don't you stop it?"
Yondu sighed. "I don't think I could if I tried. It's widespread over all 100 Ravager factions. Doubt it do well to tell one faction they couldn't participate. Enough of them look forward to it they'd probably riot." Yondu laughed sardonically. "Not that I haven't thought about trying to steer the culture around it in a different direction. I can tell some of my older crew have the same thoughts, even if they won't admit it."
"How do you know if they never said?" you asked.
"The way they keep passing off horror stories as funny tales to the younger crew. Or did ya miss the story about how Vorker-"
"Nope! Heard it!" you cut him off suddenly. "I remember! I don't need to hear it again, please!" You held up your hands almost as if defending yourself from hearing it again, eyes wide. You most definitely did not need to hear a retelling of the time Vorker caught something very nasty off a girl he met on a job and the details that came with it. There were some rumors that it was how he really lost his eye, but you weren't sure of the truth behind those claims.
Yondu chuckled, patting you on the back. His expression changed when he said. "That's prob'ly what ya should do."
You raised an eyebrow at him.
"Fake it, I mean." he clarified. "Ya should wait til ya want to do it, with someone ya want, if that should ever happen. Not just go through with it to fulfill some dumbass rite of passage." He stared off into the space in front of him. "I can't really see another way to go 'bout it." he admitted. "If I called out for a change among the crew now they'd no doubt see the connection, think I was going soft 'cause yer the only girl here, and then it'd blowback on you. I ain't gonna let that happen." He gave you a look that you understood without him having to explain further. He actually cared about you, in a way similar to how he cared for Peter. He didn't want to see you hurt or bullied over something stupid like this.
You nodded in understanding, returning your gaze to the floor.
"Next shore leave is in a few days. I'll take care of it." Yondu said, his words surprising you.
"What?"
"Consider it a gift." he said, lightly punching you in the arm as he said, "Don't say I never gave ya anythin'."
"I don't understand?" you say, lightly laughing in confusion.
Yondu dramatically rolled his eyes and said, "Guess I gotta spell it out fer ya... I'll arrange for a "fake visit" from a nice whore-bot for ya. It actually costs more for them to fake it, if ya can believe it."
You stared at him, speechless. "I- thank you?" you finally say, blushing. You give him another quick hug.
"Ya, don't get used to it." he replied in his usual gruff fashion when you released him, but you knew better. The old softie.
Just then the machine buzzed, alerting that Yondu's clothes were finished washing. He stood from the table to switch them into a nearby dryer. Once done he turned back to face you. "Well, ya probably got other duties ya need to get to. Better get on 'em."
You smiled, giving him a mock-reluctant, "Yeah," before following him to the door.
You weren't expecting what happened next.
Yondu opened the door and exited, you following out behind. The hallway was no longer empty, and you heard the same young man from earlier, Rahi, call out from a group of two other Ravagers, "Ow Ow! Looks like she finally lost it to the Captain!"
No doubt he thought he was being funny, but he really, really, shouldn't have done that.
Yondu's whistle pierced the air, his arrow quickly finding its way to rest against Rahi's throat. "Ya wanna try that again?" Yondu growled.
Rahi couldn't find any words, just babbled out incoherent nonsense as he nearly shit his pants. The other two Ravagers in the group weren't laughing, just cowering with their friend afraid they'd be next once Yondu finished with him. Other crew mates standing within the hall also stopped to stare in stunned silence.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't run my arrow through ya for speakin' to yer captain like that? Even worse offense for implying I'd screw around with a child." Yondu's eyes were dark and full of rage. Even you were a bit frightened, enough to almost let the child comment slide, and you weren't even the target.
"Dude! He's so old! Ew!" you shout over to the terrified young Ravager, hoping to help the situation by making it clear that nothing like that was ever going to be a thing. And, if you were to be honest, slight payback for Yondu calling you a child.
Yondu whipped his head around to you, and you caught a momentary expression of "You little shit!" before he said, "And don't ya forget it!"
He turned back to Rahi. "I'm waiting." he said, still glowering and crossing his arms expectantly.
Rahi was still busy freaking out. It looked like he was about to cry. He eventually managed to squeak out a, "I'm sorry!" among his pleas for Yondu not to kill him.
Yondu called back his arrow. "That's what I thought. For yer smart mouth you and the other two there are gonna wash the outside of the Eclector, and yer all gonna keep at it until the whole ship's clean." With a smug smile he added. "Guess yer all gonna miss out on shore leave."
This obviously didn't go over well with Rahi's friends, who were now glaring and smacking him at the back of his green head. The next shore leave after the upcoming one wouldn't happen for another 3 months.
"Ya heard me. Git going. And yer still all responsible fer yer other duties too." Yondu added.
The three young men begrudgingly started making their way past when Yondu stopped them again with an, "Ah, Ah, Ah." making them turn back, dreading what else he might have to add.
"I think ya better apologize to this young lady too, for thinking she'd want her first time to be with someone so old." He looked at you pointedly as he said this and you squinted back at him, a nervous giggle escaping your throat as you rubbed the back of your head. Shouldn't have spoke up and called your captain old, now he was going to have to make an example of you as well for mouthing off. "Yer gonna be cleaning out the brig for that one, missy." he said, loud enough for everyone else to hear. Had to make it look good, after all.
Rahi muttered out an apology before scurrying away with his now very irritated mates, but not before Yondu cried out after him with a, "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." He said this with a thick veil of warning. It was a threat, and one you hadn't expected to hear after the conversation you just had with him.
It was clear that no one else in hallway had expected to hear this from their captain either. Looks of shock were exchanged among the Ravagers in the hallway. Rahi and his buddies' eyes all widened in shock when his words finally sunk in and their scurry turned into a sprint to get away before they could make things even worse. That comment Rahi made had apparently pissed the captain off bad.
"What the rest of ya staring at?" Yondu said, startling the rest of the hallway dwelling crew into motion. "I know ya'll got shit to do, get on it!" He looked at you and cocked his head as if to say "Get moving." and you obeyed, making your way toward the brig to complete your extra cleaning duties.
Yondu did his best to hide a smirk as he made his way down to his quarters. He knew rumors would start spreading like wildfire about Rahi nearly causing Yondu to put an end to the rite of passage after that display. It was bound to piss more than a few of the younger crew off. He didn't care much for the lazy shit anyway, so it was better the crew think he was the reason for any upcoming changes rather than you, and if it succeeded in helping him end the whole culture around that particular thing, even better. They really did get too wound up about it.
***
The morning of shore leave came and you were nervous as hell. Yondu had pulled you aside the night before to let you know he had taken care of what he promised, and described the whore-bot he paid to help you fake it so you would know which one to accept. Still, even knowing it was taken care of you couldn't help the growing pit of nervousness in your stomach, though you did your best to hide it.
Since clearly the Eclector couldn't dock on the planet, being about a mile and a half long and all, Ravagers on shore leave would pool together on M-ships for the journey to and back, kind of like a funny buddy-system.
As per usual, you pooled in a ship with Yondu, Kraglin, and Peter along with Tullk, Oblo, and Horuz. Yondu and Kraglin sat up front to pilot, Tullk, Oblo and Horuz filled in the middle, while you and Peter got put in the back, as always.
While the older men laughed and carried on in front of you, you felt Peter nudge you in the arm. You looked over to see him looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You ok?" he asked, having noticed how you were unusually quiet and fidgety.
"Yeah, I'm great." you lied, "Never better."
Peter rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. "Don't give me that. Are ya nervous?" he asked, obviously knowing full well what everyone expected you'd be doing on this shore leave. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."
You gave him a look, saying, "No!" before coming clean with a, "Fine. A little." as you turned your gaze down into your lap to fidget with your watch some more.
"It'll be ok," he assured, "I was a little nervous my first time, too," he admitted. Peter was a few years older than you at 20, and it was hard for you to picture him having been nervous about it, seeing as he now seemed to be trying to work his way through every cute girl in the galaxy.
"Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.
"Yeah. I mean, I was still super excited, but I was a little nervous too. Those horror stories the older guys tell us really get to you."
You giggled with him, remembering what Yondu had told you the other day.
Peter continued, "But anyway, you're gonna be fine. But I did want to give you this." He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you. It was a condom.
"Peter!" you whisper-shouted, blushing.
"Hey, if you're gonna do it, I wanna know you're being smart about it. Always use protection. Even with the Love-bots. Can't ever be too careful." He held his hand out more insistently.
You blushed harder and accepted the gift, even though you knew you wouldn't be needing it. "Thanks."
"Come on now, don't get all frowny on me. I'm just looking out for you." Peter teased, aiming a few pokes at your ribs, knowing it always got a good giggle or two out of you.
It worked. Giggles escaped your throat as you twisted in your seat and swatted at his hand, "Quit it!" you squeaked, but his mission was accomplished anyway, you were smiling now.
"There we go!" he teased, grinning at you.
"Shush!" you replied, sticking your tongue out at your friend and laughing when he flicked you in the arm for it. Soon enough the two of you were in a slap battle. You weren't really fighting, and neither of you struck with the intent to hurt (well, not much anyway) it was just how the two of you played sometimes. This carried on until you heard Yondu announce that you all had made it to your destination, and then the nervousness started to creep back into your belly.
Peter and you were the last off the ship. Yondu and the other men headed off, leaving the two of you to your own devices with calls to behave yourselves, but "not too much" *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*
You almost wished he had stuck around longer, but you knew he had already done his part. It would look weird if he stuck around to hold your hand, so to speak. You look to Peter, wanting to stall just a bit longer. "So, ya hungry?"
"Figured you'd want to get right to business," he teased. He knew you were probably stalling, but decided to go along with it anyway rather than abandon you straight away. You had been here before, but he knew this time was different. This time there was a pressure to do something new, and you had already admitted you were nervous about it.
"Uh, can't do it on an empty stomach," you say, forcing a smile.
He ruffled your hair. "Good point. I'm starving." He suggested you two grab some fries at the nearby bar inside the brothel (the whole place was the brothel, let's be honest) and you followed him.
When you both had finished you tried to think of something else to stall, maybe play some pool? However, you never got the chance, for a whore-bot with green hair and looking to be around your age came over to your table to greet you. It was the one Yondu told you to look for, and it asked if it could "show you a good time." You looked nervously at Peter who shot you a thumbs up while trying not to laugh. You glanced back at the bot and tentatively nodded, which Peter took as a sign to high-tail it out of there, leaving you alone. The bot asked for your ID, as you knew it would, and part of you wished you "forgot" it back on the ship, knowing that the bots were programed to refuse service to anyone under the age of 17 and required ID of younger-looking patrons to prove it.
After scanning your ID, the bot took you by the hand and flirtatiously led you across the room to a set of stairs. You began to hear some cheers as you ascended the stairs behind the bot and you were blushing too hard to even attempt to ham it up for their benefit.
Once in the room the bot turned to you. "I understand this isn't meant to be an ordinary engagement. Mr. Udonta left instructions to only perform counterfeit coitus, correct?"
You blushed and nodded, taken aback by the professionalism of the sex-bot, before wondering if you were being rude by assuming otherwise.
"Have you done this before?"
You shook your head, still blushing.
"It's alright. There's plenty of time to figure it out. I've been booked for three hours."
You sputtered. "Excuse me?!" you cried, trying not to be too loud. "Three-? What are we supp-"
The bot gave a laugh and held up its hand. "Do not worry, Miss. I was paid extra to deliver that joke. Mr. Udonta felt it would be very funny. I've only actually been booked for an hour, the standard amount of time."
You let a sigh of relief. You still felt that an hour was going to drag on, but at least it wasn't flarkin' three. "So, what do we do?"
The bot took your hand again and led you to the large bed in the center of the room. "Lie down here." You looked at the bot nervously and it clarified. "The noises will be more realistic if both our weights are on the bed."
You did as the bot instructed and it climbed over you. "I understand this may be awkward, but I'll ask that you trust the process. I will do this," the bot began to rhythmically rock its body back and forth, each rock ending in its hands hitting the headboard and making it knock into the wall behind it. "and then you can start making moaning sounds, you can repeat after me." The bot then started moan, encouraging you with a gesture of its hand when you were too busy blushing to follow the lead. You did your best to mimic the sounds. "We shall continue like this for 10 minutes, and then rest." the bot instructed, ushering you again with more hand gestures when you paused to give it a puzzled look.
After several minutes the bot prompted you to get louder, and then louder again still a few moments after. You realized it was coaching you to simulate you approaching the climax and you got nervous again, not knowing what to do when "that moment" was meant to happen. The bot read your face and told you to relax, just follow it's lead as it thumped against the wall faster and it moaned louder.
You followed its lead until it told you to make a last few loud "Oh's!" and then it began to slow its thumping before coming to a stop.
Whoops and laughter could be heard from the bar outside the door shortly after, and you blushed harder as the bot crawled off of you. "We will now have a few minutes of rest before beginning another simulation."
You sat up. "So we'll just keep repeating like this until the time's up?" you asked.
"Not quite," answered the bot. "We'll change things up a bit, different positions, different sounds, helps to keep it interesting."
"This seems like a lot of work?" you say.
"Yes, well we're paid to put on a show here. Might as well ensure it's convincing," the bot answered with a shrug and a smile.
You winced as you realized you could hear similar noises you had just faked coming from the rooms next to yours and then more whooping and cheering once they, too, stopped. "The walls are kinda thin in here, huh?" you say awkwardly.
The bot smiled sympathetically, "It seems that way, but not really. Only the louder noises make it out. Normal conversation levels are typically left unheard from outside the rooms, so you're clear to speak freely if that was a concern."
"Good to know," you say. You honestly had been a little concerned about that. "So, do we just sit around then?"
"I could give you a massage, if you'd like."
"That... actually sounds really nice. Sure, thank you." You accept the offer, realizing you could use a little stress reliever. "What's your name, by the way?" you ask, feeling a bit guilty for not having asked the bot's name before then and wondering if you should feel silly about that or not.
"You may call me Finn," the bot answered, not seeming fazed in the slightest. "Would you prefer to remove your clothes or leave them on?" The bot- Finn- motioned for you to turn around to give it access to your back.
"Um, clothes on, please?" you say, reaching for your zipper. "But I'll take off my jacket."
"Alright." The bot said, it's tone not caring in the slightest, and you supposed it very likely didn't care one way or another. It went straight to work, starting slow by gathering your hair and pulling it back and up almost as if it were going to tie your hair in a ponytail, but instead of securing an elastic it just repeated this motion a few more times. It was actually very relaxing, and it made you wish you had someone around to play with your hair more often.
With a final gentle tug the bot moved one hand to your forehead while the other worked at the back of your neck, kneading where the nape of your neck met your skull, making you close your eyes and sigh deeply.
To your delight the bot then threaded its fingers through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. A soft hum escapes you as you stopped yourself from leaning into to touch out of shyness, and you almost let out a whine when the scratching stopped. However, you were soon soothed by the bot beginning to knead into your neck and shoulders.
You had just barely stopped yourself from moaning once when the bot then pressed into another spot that made it impossible to not make a sound, though you tried. Finn speaks up. "Let yourself relax fully," the bot encouraged. "It's alright to allow yourself to be noisy here, may even work to your benefit under the circumstances."
You giggled slightly and blushed. Finn was right, after all. If there were any time to just let go and relax it would technically be here and now. Before you could think much further Finn had dragged the knuckles of each thumb up each side of your spine with just the right amount of pressure to coax a genuine moan out of you, surprising you as it happened. You had never really realized before just how much stress your work as a Ravager took out on your back. You began to wonder if these Love-bots were also designed to be professional masseuses, because Finn seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and it was amazing.
Finn ended the massage a bit later by working back up your back and working their fingertips back into your hair for a last bit scalp massage.
You were almost disappointed when it ended, but when it was over you turned to look at the Love-bot. "Thank you, that was really nice." you say.
"Anytime." Finn smiled. "We still have twenty minutes left, shall we begin another simulation?"
You sighed. "I suppose. He paid for an hour, might as well act like I'm using it." You smiled, not feeling quite as bitter about the situation anymore after the massage. Finn really did have magic fingers. Or state of the art massage programing. Probably the latter.
"Indeed." Finn answered. "After all, there are no refunds."
You let out a slight chuckle at the bot's bluntness. "Alright, so what now?"
The next simulation involved you both standing on the edge of the bed with the wall to hold your balance as you bounced slightly up and down to make the bed squeak. The bot encouraged your to make similar noises as before, but to also throw out some curses, like, "Oh! Fuck!" It even did the same, occasionally calling out a "Yes! Right there! Oh, yes!" that made you raise an eyebrow. You had to fight from giggling the whole time at the situation. It was pretty funny after all. You were both jumping on the bed like children.
When that simulation had finished you sat down on the bed and looked at Finn. "Do you guys... er...-bots?... feel anything?" you asked, referring to the language the bot had used earlier. "Or are you just supposed to say stuff like that as an act?"
"We don't have nerve endings, and therefore we don't really 'feel things' like you might, but there are certain sensors that can be activated during a session with a client and prompt a correct response. However, as this session is only a simulation, I suppose you can call my dialogue 'acting.'"
You half-grinned when the realization of the bot's words hit you. "Are you saying... you're like a 'sexy' arcade game?" you say, trying not to giggle, before becoming suddenly afraid that might have been offensive. "I mean- obviously you're not a toy- I mean- I didn't mean to offend you."
The bot chuckled. "There's no need to worry. There are certain similarities, one could see how you might draw that conclusion."
You blushed again and attempted to change the subject. "So... what are we going to do with the last simulation?"
"You have a couple options. We can simulate against the door, or we can simulate bending over the bed. We could also simulate oral, but the noises you made during the massage more or less already worked in its favor."
You blushed at that. You already knew the door was out of the question, as you had an admittedly irrational fear that it might pop open as you were faking the deed. "We can try over the bed."
"Very well. This one will require less movement of you, you may remain seated there." Finn said as they stood up and moved to stand with their legs between your own. "This one may also be a bit awkward," the bot warned, "as it requires thrusting into the bed on my part. Ready?"
You nodded hesitantly and the bot began a steady rhythm of motion against the bed, making it creak.
The bot was right. This was more awkward, and you were grateful when it was finally over with about five minutes to spare.
You stood from bed and grabbed your jacket. "Thanks. This wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." you said truthfully. In fact, you really almost thought you'd come back if for no other reason than to get another back rub.
"You still have five more minutes, is there anything else I can do for you today?"
You smiled shyly and said, "Well, I won't argue if you play with my hair again..."
***
You were of course greeted with congratulatory cheers and high-fives when you exited the room along with the other few crew mates who had recently come of age... and had still been allowed to attend shore leave that is. R.I.P Rahi and his friends. (They hadn't died, but you can bet they were probably really regretting pissing Yondu off.)
A few fellow Ravagers bought you some congratulatory drinks and the rest of the night seemed to fly by.
Eventually you caught back up with Peter and shortly after that Yondu announced it was time to head back, which of course received some disappointed grumbling among the crew. However, nobody argued, knowing it might cost them their next shore leave if they got "fussy like toddlers" as Yondu would say.
You and Peter got back to the ship to find Tullk and Oblo already there waiting. Horuz showed up just after and sighed to see Yondu and Kraglin weren't there yet. Yondu and Kraglin were the only ones with keys to Yondu's M-ship, so you all had to stand outside and converse among yourselves as he took his sweet time getting there.
He was probably just paying the Sneeper woman who owned the place and would be there any minute, but 'any minute' still felt like forever when it was cold.
Eventually he and Kraglin did show up and unlock the ship so you could all get in.
Once inside the ship and mostly everyone had strapped in Kraglin called back to you from the co-pilots seat with tipsy laughter in his voice. "So d'ya have fun? Feel any different? Any horror stories to add to the list?" He looked teasingly at Oblo and Oblo flipped him the bird.
Yondu swatted at him, saying, "Aw, leave the girl alone," but there was also laughter in his scolding, so he wasn't that serious.
You answered anyway. "Ya. Had a blast, Kraglin. Smooth sailing. Just a little sleepy."
This made the other men chuckle, though you weren't entirely sure why, although you could guess.
Yondu piped up. "If she falls asleep Quill's gotta carry her in."
Peter scoffed with a laugh. "Why do I gotta?" he said, before turning to you to add. "You better not fall asleep then."
"Well if you fall asleep I ain't carrying you in! Probably break my back if I tried. You can just stay sleeping in the ship." you laughed back.
"Why you little!" Peter cried out with a grin, aiming to poke you in the ribs, but you dodged him, returning a swat of your own to his arm. And, like on the way over, the two of you were engrossed in another slap battle. The others just let you two carry on, busy with their own conversations and laughing amongst themselves.
Eventually you and Peter did tire yourselves out and Yondu chuckled to the other men when after docking the ship he noticed you had both fallen asleep, curled up in your respective seats. Oblo snapped a picture, cooing, "Aw look! Ain't that precious!"
"Send that to me." Yondu said with a grin. "Might blow it up, hang it in the Mess Hall." This earned a laugh from the others. He looked at Tullk with a grin before exiting the ship. "Ya better wake 'em. I'm sure as hell not carryin' them to bed."
***
The next morning Yondu was alone in his quarters when he decided to call up Stakar.
After a few rings Stakar's face comes up on the screen, and the two men give a Ravager salute in greeting before Stakar asks what's brought Yondu to call him.
"I wanna talk to ya about that whole coming of age and having sex thing."
Stakar raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"Younger crew just get too wound up about it. It ain't healthy." Yondu responded.
Stakar still looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Ya know what I mean." Yondu said firmly. "They get all wound up like it's the most important thing in the world, and it's because everyone makes a big old deal outta something silly like that."
"It hasn't been a problem before?" Stakar said thoughtfully. "What's changed? It's that Terran girl isn't it? Of course. She just came of age." Stakar shook his head. "I don't care what you say, you're soft on her and Peter. You can't get attached and let them influence your judgement like that, Yondu."
"No, it ain't like that," Yondu said, trying to cover his ass and continuing before Stakar can interrupt him. "It's got nothin' to do with them. I just can't have my crew bullying their mates just cause they don't wanna fuck yet or lettin' the whole thing get to their heads makin' them all disrespectful-like. Almost had to keel-haul a few boys who suddenly thought they were big enough to start disrespecting their captain over it."
Stakar looked at him suspiciously. "No, we can't have that... What do you propose then? It's not like we can stop them. You tell young people they can't do something, they're only gonna do it more."
"I know that- Look. I'm not sayin' we do away with it entirely. I could care less what they do on shore-leave. But we can maybe make them realize it's not such a big damn deal. Ya know, slow-like. Maybe they'd stop getting so wound-up about it." Yondu said, quickly adding, "If they're less focused on that maybe they'd work harder."
Stakar thought for a bit. Yondu was right, he thought. He had noticed the younger crowd getting a bit wound up about it, and sometimes they did let the excitement get ahead of their duties... "Maybe you're right," he conceded. "If it's affecting their jobs maybe we should try and change the culture around it... I'll talk with some of the other captains and get back to you."
Yondu grinned and nodded. "All I ask."
***
You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It was the day after shore-leave and no one had brought up how you "Became a woman" at all. It was as if the previous week's excitement had been completely forgotten, and you couldn't be happier.
You did notice in the following days that Rahi seemed to be getting a bit of flack. He hadn't been particularly well liked before, always trying to push his duties off on other crew mates or blaming others for things he had broken, but now he was practically a pariah. Even his buddies didn't seem to want much to do with him, though that could be because they were still mad that they had been dragged under into his punishment despite not having done anything to deserve it other than be with him at the time.
You almost felt bad for him until Peter explained that along with the 'written' rule that Ravagers don't deal in kids; harming or forming inappropriate relationships with children and teens (i.e: having sexual relations with younger crew) was also a HUGE no-no. Even worse if the offender is someone high-ranking. Rahi, though he just thought he was being funny, had more or less unwittingly falsely accused Yondu of breaking that part of the code with the joke he made, hence why Yondu had been so offended and pissed. Peter was honestly surprised Yondu had let him live after that.
He also added that no one wants to be around someone who thinks it's funny to make those particular jokes. Real accusations of that nature are taken very seriously among Ravager Clans, so if someone is found to just be flippantly saying crap like that, the general feel is that it makes it harder for real victims to be heard, so the crew will tend to shun the offender to make it clear that behavior isn't acceptable. And well, if the offender didn't learn their lesson pretty quick and get back into the good graces of their captain and crew, they'd quickly find themselves to be cannon fodder.
Even Ravagers know there's a line between raunchy and unacceptable.
There may have also been the matter that when Yondu had said "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." much of the crew, after the rumor had gotten twisted up a bit via game of telephone, had taken it to mean that Rahi had almost gotten shore-leave taken away from everyone- forever. And well, that just didn't sit right with a lot of folks. It was a final nail in the coffin, if you will.
However, what you didn't know was about Yondu's conversation with Stakar.
Stakar did go talk to the other captains, and more than a few did finally admit similar instances among their younger ranks after having heard through the grapevines about a giant stink a lad called Rahi had caused on Udonta's ship. They admitted to instances of bullying, pressure, and disrespect occurring and directly related to the particular rite of passage and collectively agreed with Yondu that a change surrounding the culture could be beneficial, much to Yondu's surprise, and also his relief.
He never did tell you about his conversation with Stakar, though he was sure you may start to suspect if everything went well and things started changing regarding that particular aspect of life. As long as no one else had to feel like he saw you feeling that night in the laundry, he'd be happy.
You had come to his quarters the day after the visit to Contraxia, knocking almost as soon as he had hung up with Stakar. You had wanted to thank him him for helping you, both with the advice and with the Love-Bot. You told him how you felt so much better after having that talk with him, and how you no longer felt broken.
He'd never say, because screw sentiment, but it warmed his heart to know he helped you realize there was nothing wrong with you, that you had never been damaged. You two parted with a hug and he let you know to not be afraid if you needed to come to him about stuff like that in the future, just not to make a habit of telling the others lest they accuse him of going soft.
You were his little girl, something else he never intended to say out loud, because again, screw sentiment. He felt a responsibility for your well-being, even if you could be a little shit like Peter sometimes.
Ah, fuck sentiment. He knew you two were his kids, and he was damn proud.
***
About a week after shore leave you and Peter happened across Yondu outside the Mess Hall doors as you were heading in for supper.
"Hey, look! It's Terran One and Terran two!" Yondu said, oddly loudly.
"Um, hi?" You gave him an odd look. "What's up?"
"Now why would ya think somethin's up? Can't a captain greet his crew outside the Mess Hall before dinner?"
'Something's definitely up.' you thought, sharing a glance with Peter who was clearly thinking the same thing. "Are we in trouble? Did we do something?" Peter chuckled nervously. He didn't know about you, but he had maybe definitely rigged a supply closet in the control room with some firecrackers, and he wasn't sure if some poor soul (probably Kraglin) had already fell victim to it, meaning he was about to be in hot water.
You were also grinning nervously. You didn't know about Peter's firecrackers, but you had also maybe definitely hidden some poppers under the cushion of Yondu's desk chair that morning when he was busy on the other side of the ship, but you weren't going to just turn yourself in without more information, now were you?
"I dunno, you tell me." Yondu said, smirking. "Are you in trouble? Ya'll got a guilty conscience?"
You and Peter shared a nervous glance. You both knew you both were most definitely guilty of something, however you two had a code. Never turn yourself in, and never turn your buddy in. You looked back at Yondu, suppressing a nervous giggle. "No? I don't think so?"
Kraglin then came outside the Mess Hall doors to stand with Yondu. Kraglin had a big shit eating grin on his face, almost as if he were trying not to laugh when he saw you and Peter there.
Yondu threw him a glance which Kraglin returned with a nod. You noticed this and you exchanged another look with Peter. Something was definitely up. This felt like a trap.
"Well, what're ya waiting for? Get in there and grab some supper!" Yondu ordered, grinning strangely. He opened the door for you- oh shit something was absolutely up here.
You and Peter eyed him suspiciously but obeyed, entering the Mess hall without a word.
Once inside you noticed the rest of the crew inside were all oddly quiet, all staring at the two of you with grins and some suppressing giggles behind their hands. You heard the doors shut behind you and turned to see Yondu and Kraglin standing in front of them, both donning the biggest shit eating grins of all time.
"Cap'n has a surprise for you guys, d'ya- do ya like it?" Kraglin asked, trying to suppress his own giggles.
You heard Peter exclaim a, "Oh hell no!" and you turned to see what had caught his attention, noticing the crew had finally broke out into loud raucous laughter around you.
Hanging high on the wall about 10 feet to the right of the Mess Hall entrance doors was a humongous blown up photo of you and Peter. It was the photo you guys didn't know Oblo had snapped when you returned from Contraxia. It showed the two of you each curled up asleep in your respective seats of Yondu's M-ship. Peter was sucking his thumb. You were cuddling one of Yondu's softer dash toys.
You both paled as you stared up at the giant poster hung high on the wall. Hung conveniently high enough that neither of you would be able to reach it to rip it down, although Peter made a few good attempts.
Your eyes narrowed at your captain as he approached you, his laughter matching that of the crew. He pulled you towards him and ruffled your hair as he asked. "What's the matter? Ya don't like yer surprise?"
You glared up at him as Peter was now climbing up on a chair in a vain attempt to reach and pull the photo down. "This so means war, blue man!"
"Don't pick fights ya can't win, pipsqueak." Yondu laughed. "Consider this payback for those poppers in my chair, and ya can tell Peter this is for those firecrackers in the supply closet."
You sighed and punched him in the arm, but he only laughed and pulled you in close to ruffle your hair again, "Oh lighten up! Ya don't really expect me to just let my kids have all the fun, huh?"
You jerked your head towards him with a surprised expression, and it seemed it was only then he realized what he had said. Grateful that no one else would have heard it over his noisy crew he attempted to backtrack. "Uh, don't read too much into it." he said, clapping you on the back and announcing to Kraglin that he was going to grab some food. Kraglin, who was busy laughing at Peter, who had seemingly given up his attempts to rip down the photo in favor of walking dejectedly back over to you, nodded and joined his Captain in obtaining some supper.
Peter and you turned to face the photo again, the laughter from the crew still not having died down. Peter spoke first. "This means war, right?"
"Definitely. I had already set up a dye pack in Yondu's shower earlier. He'll be a weird shade of purple by morning," you affirmed with a grin.
"Nice. We gotta get one on Kraglin too."
"Absolutely," you reply. "After supper?"
"Yeah. After supper." Peter agreed.
The two of you made your way to get your supper, ignoring the laughs and teases of the other Ravagers along the way and discussing further options of getting Yondu and Kraglin back for this.
He may be like a father to you two, but that didn't mean he'd get off easy.
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opluffys · 4 years ago
Text
Reverse Captain- Killer x Reader x Eustass Kid
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okay okay this is like the last old story from my archive account that i’m posting here *maybe? lmao idk* :,). i’m head over heels in love with killer so i got like ten wips for him lololo. lowkey don’t like how this one turned out, but it’s a couple of months old so idc anymore hehe. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! oh, also sorry if the spacing looks weird, i was too lazy to go through the whole thing and edit it...
-smut/nsfw-
You felt deliciously full and sore, the quick sliding of your captain's cock against your tight walls nearly made you lose consciousness.
"Fuck... Kid..!" You yelled, feeling his girth stretch you.
He grunted behind you and continued to thrust into you wildly, almost as wild as that red hair of his, which was now stuck to his forehead.
Your breasts were flush against the table of his office, rocking back and forth, creating a wanted friction that fueled your desire.
It was no surprise that Kid was rough in bed, just one look at the man and pretty sure anyone could tell. But you just weren't ready for it all, the way his cock just hit every spot inside of you so perfectly... When he leaned down to nip your ear and leave harsh markings on your neck, you felt like you couldn't keep up with him.
You broke the eye contact you had with countless papers and unfinished works in progress on Kid's desk, and looked fervently for your sword. You took that damn thing with you everywhere you went, you would risk your own life for that sword.
When you finally made eye contact with that beautiful blue casing, your face illuminated, you quickly grabbed it, using the hilt of the sword to press against Kid's chest.
"What the fuck..." He started angry, then stumbling backwards onto a stray chair in the middle of the room that fell victim to you and Kid.
"I think you need to slow down a bit, Captain." You said, your voice like sweet honey as you sauntered over to where he was sat, straddling his thighs.
"So you used Sea Stone to tell me that?!" He snapped, about to get up before you pressed the hilt against him once again.
"Ah ah. Feisty are we? I think it's my turn to take charge for the night, don't you, my Captain?" You asked, raising your hips to line yourself up right against his shaft, teasing the redding head with your slick entrance.
"Damn woman..." He growled, trying to get up again, but you were barely faster than him, trailing the hilt of the sword all over his body, making him groan tiredly.
"I would fucking end you if you weren't such a good doctor." He grumbled, still attempting to take charge every few minutes, evidently failing.
"That's all I am? Your doctor?" You responded, faking a disappointment tone. You still continued to rub your folds teasingly over the painfully hard head of your captain.
He raised his hand and you raised your sword, he almost chuckled, instead sending a smirk your way.
"Relax, princess. If I still wanted to actually take charge, you would've been screaming my name over my desk years ago. I guess I'll let you dominate this one time, but next time," He leaned into your ear, nipping it and taking the sensitive cartilage into his mouth. "You're gonna be wishing that you had done it my way." He finished.
You gulped nervously, the tone of his voice nearly made you want to bend yourself back over that desk, forgetting the thoughts of ever wanting to dominate your captain ever again.
Kid let out booming laughter at your reaction, about to come up with a snarky retort, but he was soon silenced by a grunt of pleasure as you finally decided to lower yourself onto his hardened arousal.
"Oh, fuck... So tight..." He whispered, biting his lip as he tried to silence his sounds.
You shuddered noticeably as he filled you to the brim, no, even further than that. He never let you ride him before, because 'You're too slow.' as he said. But as of now, being slow worked in your favour, making the red haired captain begin to lose his cool, grunts and groans of frustration leaving his full painted lips.
"Oh! Oh Captain!! Yes!!" You yelled, feeling his strong arms just tightly wrapped against you and feeling his warm pants fanning across your equally warm face just did something for you.
"Keep talking like that... I won't fulfil my end of the deal." He panted, hands attached to your plush hips, grinding against him thoughtfully.
"That'd be a shame, Captain... Because next time, I'm up for whatever you wanna do. And I mean anything, Kid." You said, sultrily pulling him in and out of you, your wet insides protesting him pulling out every time.
That seemed to shut him up for a while.
"So I've been thinking." You started, bottoming out on his lap, hissing in pleasure after feeling so full. "Your first mate, Killer... He doesn't like me much?" You asked, warming his cock, leaning your forehead against his pectorals.
"I know how Killer ticks. He doesn't hate you or anything, just no reason to make conversation with you. Why do you ask?" Kid replied, unconsciously bucking his hips upwards once in a while, earning you to pull your sword out and poke him with it a couple of times.
"No reason. I just think he's kinda sexy. What's under that mask leaves my imagination running wild, ya know." You said playfully, using your agile hands to tweak and pinch every inch of his built torso.
"What are you really getting at, (First Name)." He said, tone now completely serious, and even though he was stilled inside of you, length twitching and just dying to ravage your insides, the captain's voice never faltered, remaining serious.
"Okay, maybe I daydream of being pinned under your first mate, childhood friend, whatever. But hey, I admit it that he's really, really hot. Okay, happy now, Eustass?" You groaned, hitting your head against his chest in embarrassment, ready for him to scream at you for wanting to have sex with his best friend.
"Okay."
"Yes, I deserve whatever punishment you think is fit- wait, what?" You paused, thinking that you didn't hear him properly.
"I was your first, but by no means were you mine. So if you wanna fuck another dude, at least do it when I'm gone, or some shit." He grunted, rolling his eyes when he saw your surprised expression.
"Fuck, Kid. Please bend me over and fuck me as hard as you want." You whimpered, feeling so pleased at his response.
"With pleasure, princess." He replied, sending a wicked grin your way, harsh hands attached to your sides.
You stood at the edge of the ship, waving goodbye to your captain, who stood alongside Heat and Wire, going into the next island that you all had drifted to.
The two of you decided to hatch up a not too great plan of leaving you and Killer alone on the ship, which was 'I leave with Heat and Wire to the next island, because I'm captain, I do whatever the fuck I want.' which, had actually worked out well.
He sent a shit eating smile your way, then turned around to take his leave, the two other men following their captain.
Killer stood by your side silently, he was never one for being chatty, you knew that much. You took a few looks at the man, his plain black shirt hugging his muscles so tight, that scar on his arm made you tighten your legs, feeling an undeniable warmth flood your senses. You continued your not so subtle stares, the way his blonde mane fell down his broad shoulders and framed his body looked phenomenal, and the only thing you couldn't see was that damn face of his. You stared at the dozen holes on the striped mask, almost like trying to see through it.
"Is something the matter?" He asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. You stiffened, looking upwards towards the blonde, feeling so small in his presence.
You didn't get to be in bed with Eustass Kid for feeling small, though.
"No, Killer." You said, dragging his name out from your tongue, walking closer to his stature. You leaned against his strong chest, a gentle hand laying on his rippling muscles.
"But I think that you have something the matter with me." You said, taking your hand off of him, giving him a sly smile.
"You must've imagined it." He replied coolly, walking away to his quarters, not even giving you a chance to further your attempt at a conversation.
You clicked your tongue and walked past Kid's lackeys, who were all staring at your ass while you passed by, going to wandering into the kitchen.
You turned your head to look at them, smiling at how painfully obvious they were being while gawking at you. If only Killer sent a single gaze your way like these men here, it'd make your job of seduction a lot easier.
You took a seat in the kitchen, a stray chair in front of the stove. You picked at your nails, desperately waiting for someone to scream for your help, claiming they've been injured and needed your help. Though it was a bit bad to wait for someone to become injured, it was your role to assist them.
You didn't know when, but you leaned your head over onto your hand and started to doze off for a while, only jolting awake when you heard the sound of running water from behind you.
"Finally awake?"
You turned to where the voice came from, swallowing hard when you saw that mess of blonde hair.
"There's a plate in front of you, if you're hungry." He said, continuing to wash dishes. Yes, of course you were hungry, but not for food.
You hummed softly, getting up to smooth your skirt and walk over to Killer, offering your hand to help. "Maybe later. How about some assistance?" You asked, settling next to him to dry the wet plates. He shrugged lightly, his blonde tendrils swaying along his strong shoulders. Oh, how you wanted to just grab onto those shoulders while he thrusted into you wildly, grunting and groaning in your ear how you took him so well-
"Here."
You snapped out of your daydreams and took the plate from him, drying it off and placing it onto the shelf.
The two of you sustained a steady rhythm of washing and drying for a while, until you accidentally had dropped a glass cup, seeming to smash into a million pieces upon impact.
"Shit." You mumbled, crouching down to pick up the glass with your bare hands, of course, a bad idea, but you weren't weak, you could take a few cuts as long as you cleaned the mess.
Killer stood silently behind you, admiring the view of you bent down, even though he really shouldn't be. He pulled you up by the arms, surprising you, nearly dropping the glass shards.
You looked at his mask with a perplexed look on your face, dropping the bits of glass into the trash bin, dusting your hands off.
Killer started walking over to you, and you, being confused of what he needed, continued to back up, until your back hit the wall.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop it or anything. Besides, I cleaned it up. We all good?" You asked, looking up at him.
"Why do you do this, (First Name)." He asked, grabbing your chin in his calloused hand, forcing your wandering eyes to peer into the mask.
"Do what?" You replied, resting your hand atop his sculpted arm, his muscle twitching at your touch.
"Make me want to pin you against the wall and fuck your brains out." He said, not moving his hand from your skin.
You froze in place, it seemed your job was easier than you had thought. "So do it, Killer." You smiled, tracing your hands over his strong torso.
"I can't." He answered, moving away from you, back to the sink to dry the rest of the dishes. You frowned, your painted lips then creating a flat line as you stood in thought.
"You can. I'm the captain's girl, right?" You said, walking behind him, trailing your nails through the material of the black shirt, feeling his muscles tense under you. "And you're captain when he's gone." You said, standing on your tippy toes to nip at his strong neck, leaving a barely visible mark behind.
You were sure you didn't even blink before you were over the counter, Killer's arm against your back, preventing you to move. A smile spread across your features, sighing contently as you felt his other hand squeeze and pinch along your clothed body.
"Mm, Killer..." You whimpered softly, grinding against his crotch. His breath hitched, but he easily retaliated, a loud hiss of pleasure leaving your lips as you felt a stinging sensation on your ass.
"I guess you're just like captain. Always wanting to take charge." You sighed, feeling the cool air hit your dripping cunt, accommodating the size of Killer's digits. "I guess so." He said, his gaze on how you took his three fingers.
You moaned loudly, biting your lip while shifting your weight from foot to foot, unable to take the torture any longer. "I didn't come here for your fingers." You grumbled, closing your eyes as he curled his fingers deep inside of you.
"Yeah, but this is probably the only time I'm going to be able to enjoy you. Gotta take it nice," He stopped, pulling his fingers out to circle your clit. "And slow." He finished. You were sure he was smirking underneath that mask.
"It doesn't have to be." You whimpered, backing your hips against him again, feeling his bulge rub against you. You heard him take a sharp inhale, contemplating whether to continue the teasing, or to just give in.
"Please." You begged, placing your forehead against the hard table.
And he had his answer.
The sound of a fumbling belt buckle behind you put a smile on your face. "Finally." You mumbled, feeling his tip press against your entrance. You bit your lip from letting out a scream as he suddenly filled you, a shaky sigh leaving Killer's lips.
"Ah... Fuck, Killer!" You panted, your hands grabbing the counter harshly. His tan arm lifted from you, now squeezing your hips tightly, pulling you back against him, relishing in your warmth.
"Killer... Fuck... You stretch me so good!" You yelled, moaning when you felt him fill you over and over again. "You're awfully quiet back there, am I not what you expected?" You said, a fake tone of sadness lacing your voice.
"Unlike you or Kid, I'm not so vocal." He responded, trying not to show the strain on his voice, even when you were wrapped so tightly against him, your pussy dragging him in deeper and deeper with every thrust. "You're even better than I thought, (First Name)." Killer said, pushing himself into you deeper than what you thought possible.
"Isn't this position boring? Why don't you pin me against the wall and fuck my brains out like you proposed? You can even have me do the work and ride you, or even-" You were cut off when your mouth was filled with Killer's long fingers, taking your tongue between them. "You know, you make a good point. I can't see the faces you're making." He said, pulling out of you slowly.
"Why don't we go somewhere more, private." He said, his deep voice making your legs shake. You nodded fervently, pulling your panties up and adjusting your skirt. You tried to take a step forward, but your wobbly knees betrayed you, nearly making you fall down until Killer took your hand, pulling you up gently. "We weren't even going for that long." He said, making sure that you could stand before letting you go. "You're big, what do you expect?" You mumbled, rolling your eyes.
When you were stable, you tried taking another step under Killer's gaze. Again, you failed and your hands flew to his extended arm. He sighed audibly and lifted you up, carrying you like a bride. "What a gentleman." You giggled, your hand wrapping around his neck softly. He didn't reply as he started walking back to his room, obviously attracting stares along the way.
"Killer..." You whimpered, feeling his cock push against your womb, making you see stars. Your back was against the cool wall, seeming to steal the warmth that radiated off of you. "You're tight even when you and the captain go at it everyday..." He grunted, his hips snapping against yours. You would've laughed if you weren't pinned against the wall getting fucked. "Yeah, sorry about that... I know I can get a little, ya know..." You said timidly, a warmth settling on your cheeks after getting called out for being so loud.
"I've always wondered what your lips feel like." You sighed, feeling him stretch you so good. "Not today, (First Name)." He said, biting his lip softly, trying not to let out too much noise, even though you couldn't even hear him. "Come on, Killer. All I've wanted to see was your face the second I joined the crew, and that was years ago, that says something." You said, trying to sound angry, but that was seemingly impossible with a huge cock inside of you.
Killer seemed to stand still in thought, wondering if he could actually show you his face. He didn't hold any negative feelings toward you, but he wasn't sure if he trusted you enough. "And if I do..?" He asked, not moving any longer, his cock deep inside of you. "If you do, then I most definitely think that we would enjoy ourselves much more." You replied, hands squeezing his strong shoulders tightly. He made a sound of disapproval as he pulled out of you again, walking away from you. You barely stood, only with help of a chair next to you were you able to stand.
A confused face took over your gentle features, pondering if you had said or did something wrong. "Damn it, how the fuck did I mess this up so badly..?" You sighed, starting to gather your clothes slowly, silently wishing Killer was here to help you out. It was the least he could do if he didn't want you anymore.
"(First Name), do me a favour." You heard him, he was out of view, for some reason. You hummed, signalling that you heard him. "Close your eyes, just for a little while." He said, his voice coming closer to where you stood. You complied, used to taking orders, especially on a ship where Eustass Kid was captain.
You felt a rougher hand tangle with your soft one, leading you somewhere. You trusted Killer, but you had no clue what he was going to do.
You were stopped for a moment, then brought down onto muscled thighs, your hand still tightly wrapped with Killer's. It took you a moment to realise that you were straddling his thighs, your cheeks adapting a sudden warmth at the intimate pose you two held.
You felt warm lips against yours, your abdomen knotted tightly at the feeling. His tongue softly pushed against your own, his lips tangling within your own in a fierce dance, the two of you seemingly unable to get enough of each other.
Your hand still laced with Killer's, you squeezed it harder unconsciously, feeling your lungs start to burn after not inhaling enough oxygen. Your open hand wandered lower, tracing Killer's strong abs and his beautiful V-line, finally finding his rock hard length, your hand softly pumping it when he released your lips with a groan. 
"Fuck, (First Name)... Just like that..." He whispered, his pants warming your face. His breath smelled of a cool mint, opposing your captains fierce cinnamon scent.
Your eyes were still shut, though you were dying to take a small peek, you were sure he was just as beautiful as the rest of his body.
You continued your ministrations while Killer ravaged your soft lips, his lipstick mixing with yours. Any time while the two of you locked lips, you felt his cock twitch in your hands, obviously wanting to be back inside of your warmth. You subtly raised your hips, lining his cock up with your entrance. Just as you started to lower yourself, Killer thrusted his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you quickly. You yelled against his lips, separating the two of you.
He would've laughed if he didn't dislike doing so. "You know I can see what you're doing, right?" He asked, his harsh tone of voice seeming to disappear.
"S-Shut your damn mouth..." You whispered, closing your eyes tighter than they already were. You opened your mouth to speak once again, but you were silenced by a pair of lips against yours once again. It was as if he couldn't get enough of you, each kiss was like air to him, his lungs burning like a fire until your cool lips met with his scorching ones. It was weird how you were the one who wanted to kiss him so bad, but he was the one who kept initiating it.
He pulled back from you, leaving your lips slightly agape and stinging, a sensation that was welcomed by you. "You can open your eyes now." He sighed, worried about how you'd react.
Your (eye colour) eyes strained open, the light making it hard to fully open them on command. You squinted, then little by little opened them fully, eyes resting on Killer's tanned chest, your mouth wanting to leave markings on the skin. You just realised that your hand still laid on top of Killer's gently, you muttered a quick apology and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.
Your mouth hung open slightly, seeing his blonde hair fall into his face perfectly, his long eyelashes tickling his strong cheekbones, his full lips swollen after meeting your own countless times.
"So handsome..." You mumbled, seemingly forgetting that he was still inside of you. You noticed his cheeks get warmer, as you sent him a small smile. 
"Thank you."
He looked at you, confusion written all over his pretty features. "For?" He asked, his now free hand caressing your hips, tracing small shapes with his tall fingers.
"For trusting me... I know we never talk, but I trust you as much as Captain." You sighed, your forehead against his chest. "And well, obviously the other two." You laughed, referring to Heat and Wire.
He didn't know what to say, but he began to feel slightly bad. "Why did you never talk to me, anyway? When I first joined you used to at least make small talk with me, but then it stopped." You said, looking up at him with an undeniable sadness in your eyes. He sighed, averting his stare. "I knew something like this were to happen if I continued to talk to you. When you and Kid became a thing, I had to back off, respect that you were his, or the temptations would overcome me someday." He said, returning his gaze to you.
You hummed, satisfied with the answer. "At least you don't hate me." You said, raising your hips to be able to kiss him again, lips against his own with fierce intent.
"Please fuck me, Killer." You whimpered, unable to take just his stationary cock inside of you any longer. He didn't respond back to you, but began to assist you in moving on top of him, your arms resting against his shoulders as you started to bounce on him, his cock going inside and out with such a lewd sound.
Killer's hands gripped your hips tightly, lifting you onto him easier than if you were doing it alone. "Fuck..." He groaned, feeling your fleshy walls tighten around him, warmth over flooding his entire being.
You felt him push against the spot that nearly induced you into a deep unwanted sleep, letting out a loud moan, unable to form words to tell him to keep hitting that spot.
He knew what angle to go out now, abusing your wet walls with every snap of his hips. He moved his hand lower to circle your clit slowly, hearing you give a wanton whisper of his name fuelled his need to make you finish around him.
You felt your leg twitch as you felt your inevitable release creep up on you. Your moans and whimpers grew to a higher pitch, with a raise of your hips, Killer met your lips against his once again, you never growing tired of the feeling. One more deep thrust inside of you, and you couldn't take it, accidentally screaming into Killer's open lips, you separated from his mouth and whimpered again as you came around him, your arousal dripping down onto his erection and onto the both of your thighs.
He continued to lazily drill into you, filling you to the brim until he was satisfied. He bit his lip as you tightened onto him harshly, almost like not wanting to let go. You moaned his name, feeling sensitive with every move.
"So fucking good." He whispered to himself, getting lost in your soft insides. He too felt release coming sooner than he thought. You were just so good around him, smaller than him and still able to take him better than initially thought.
A few more thrusts and he pulled out, grunting softly as he came on your stomach, thick white ropes of his sticky seed on your naked body.
He got up to bring you a towel, finally feeling the after effects on him, collapsing onto the bed beside you gently. You smiled, your lipstick was slightly smeared and your hair was tousled messily. You cleaned yourself up and laid next to him, locking lips again softly, feeling him being so gentle with you made you feel like you could take him again right then and there.
His eyes were on yours after you backed up from the kiss, a smile on your face as you closed your eyes.
"I could get used to this."
358 notes · View notes
miintsprigz · 2 years ago
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Dancing in the Dark (Thatcher and Ruth)
Note: I have heard that both the creator and the actors who played both characters have said they’re okay with this ship. If I hear otherwise, I’ll gladly take this down.
Ship: Thatcher Davis x Ruth Weaver from The Mandela Catalog.
Fic Type: fluff with angst towards the end. SFW.
Warnings: alcohol mention, smoking, mourning.
Description: in the darkness of his apartment, Thatcher recalls a treasured memory of his: a date night gone awry… An old jacket. An old song. An old pair of eyes, despite everything, still gazing up at him in the back of his mind.
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Things had not gone according to plan tonight at all. The original idea’s simplicity still stood out as better, for sure. Go out to get some dinner, have some drinks, talk awhile…head home. It had been a while since Thatcher had spent time with Ruth that involved…actual free time. With the invasion of these strange, demonic alternates spreading like a wildfire, work never stopped, and places closed down left and right. This one bar kept itself open though, and they figured they might as well go…while they still could.
That…was not what happened though.
Weaver had come barging in through Davis’ door, basically mowing him down in the process. After recovering his footing (thereby peeling himself off of the rug), he saw a distorted face charging towards the door. He had immediately slammed the door again by practically slapping himself against it, and held it shut tight.
Weaver, meanwhile, shoved various pieces of his apartment furniture in front of the doors and windows just in case the thing tried to break in. Luckily, this seemed to be one of the alternates that…did its job rather poorly. However, what it lacked in intelligence, it made up for with great persistence. It stayed. And it could probably still kill them.
And so, Davis and Weaver had sat on the kitchen counter in the dark, near the tiny, slightly open window, with the shades drawn. Waiting.
Thatcher sighed, pulse finally slowing.
Well. Date’s off. Sucks.
Weaver cracked a joke to break the silence, now that her own heart had stopped pounding in her ears.
“What were you gonna get anyways, Thatch?”
Immediately, a glare from those tired eyes hit her, laser-focused. She quipped,
“My guess is a beer, with that face.”
“You’d be right. Lemme guess…a screwdriver for you?”
“You know me so well!”
“I sure do…”
Chuckling dryly, he reached into his pocket, fishing around inside. Muttering a curse under his breath, he gave the pocket he’d dug around in an audible slap.
“What happened?” Weaver piped up, concern tinting her voice.
“I wanna smoke…meant to get more earlier. Forgot.”
His coworker reached into her shirt pocket. Buried amongst the pens, she had hidden two cigarettes.
“I was gonna go out on the deck when we got our drinks.”
“Weaver, I knew there was a reason I liked ya.”
A soft chuckle met the compliment.
“Oh please. I knew you’d forget. Told you to write it down.”
“Nobody’s got time for that, baby—“
The corner of Thatcher’s mouth lilted upwards as he poked the cigarette between his lips and flicked his lighter open, leaning in the direction of the window.
“Hey, uh…hit me quick-“
“Oh, here—“
The Lieutenant got the lighter going again and his partner moved in a bit closer. They’d done this before. As he lit the other end for her, he watched her eyes. She’d always said they were plain, but he loved them. The way they shone when she smiled, as she was now. That little hint of red beneath the deep brown.
“Uhhh, Thatch? I think that’s good.”
He snapped out of it.
“Huh… Oh!! Yeah, yeah; sure.”
Nearly dropping his own cigarette, he cleared his throat, scooting away from her.
“What? I don’t have cooties or anything.”
He blew some air out of his nose, snickering.
“You sure ‘bout that?”
“Take a chance on me.”
Truthfully, he’d always so much hated how he couldn’t seem to stay serious around her for long. Had a reputation for being one of the toughest on the force, but every time they’d driven around together, any seriousness about him went totally sideways. She always teased him for it. He’d snap back, but he’d tolerate anything for that laugh.
Some frightening whispers slowly came from outside. They’d been there a while, but they’d stayed in the background. Now though…they almost started to take effect. Almost. Immediately, every hair stood on its end. They shared a stare. With a vigorous shake of his head, blowing smoke everywhere, Thatcher hopped off the counter.
“Nope. Nuh-uh. No.”
Moving at a breakneck pace, he slid to the cassette player that rested on the opposite countertop, getting it going at max volume. He nearly slipped back, forgetting he wasn’t wearing his boots.
“Shhh—“
Weaver swung forward, giggling.
“You’re gonna break your face, idiot.”
Thatcher blew smoke rings at her, smirking.
“Yeah, okay; and then you’ll have to drive me to the hospital with that thing on your—“
“Hey!”
It was his turn to laugh, grabbing an empty coffee can he’d fished out of the trash as an ashtray.
“This’ll do, I think.”
Wrinkling up her nose, she grinned, sneering.
“No no, that won’t do. How dare you not have a proper ashtray, Davis, I say! I’m ashamed to call you my partner.”
“Didn’t know my partner was a snob. Learn somethin’ new every day, huh Ruth?”
The two of them just laughed, finishing their cigarettes and dropping them into the can.
For a while, Davis swung his feet back and forth, looking down at the floor. Well, this was kind of awkward. Ruth drummed her fingers to the beat of the music.
The track changed.
It took her a moment to recognize the song. Once she did, she snapped her fingers, letting out one of those famous laughs.
“Ha! Thatch, I didn’t know you listened to this kinda stuff!”
Thatcher met her with a raised brow.
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it. Just didn’t picture you listening to it.”
He made a very flamboyant gesture with both hands, flourishing them out in a fan shape.
“Well, now you can not only picture, but behold.”
Ruth laughed again, swaying her head from side to side to the beat.
“Hope you’ve got more cassettes around here.”
“I got dozens.”
“Good. At the rate this thing is going, we’ll have listened to them all.”
Thatcher watched with fascination as Ruth jumped down from the counter.
“Hey, I got an idea.”
“Mmm?”
Extending her hand, she smiled sheepishly.
“…dance with me?”
The Lieutenant blinked rapidly, his eyebrows arching.
“…Ruth, really?”
He feigned disinterest. She’d laugh at how overeager he was otherwise. They’d warned him that she was pretty as a picture before he met her. They were sadly correct. Jokes had circulated the whole department for months now.
“Yes, really. Big stick in the mud over here.”
In a way that was almost cartoonish, she plunked her unextended hand down on her hip, harrumphing.
“Look, I don’t care if you have two left feet. I don’t even care that you’re not wearing shoes! I just figure…”
A little smile broke through the pout she put on.
“…we might as well have some fun, if we’re stuck.”
Rolling his eyes in her direction, he raked his hair out of his face.
“Fine, I’ll bite. No need to throw a fit.”
“I’m not! Lighten up already…”
Sliding off the counter, he clasped her hand, resting the other one against her shoulder. Suddenly aware of his heartbeat racing again.
Deep breaths, Davis. Deep breaths.
Why on earth did she make him feel so nervous? He pondered it as the two of them looked down at their feet, lining up their movements. Like a mirror image.
Ruth was a great dancer. He’d seen her at a company party. It wasn’t the alcohol steering her either. She just loved to dance. Even back then, she’d extended her hand, and adamantly, he’d refused, much to her greatly dramatized disappointment. Truthfully, he was just afraid to make a fool of himself in front of her…and of course, the rest of the precinct.
Everyone else seemed to disappear when he was with Ruth.
“You shoulda said yes!”, Dave had kept telling him. He’d bemoaned the constant nagging, and insisted heatedly that if he ever got the chance again, he’d say yes.
Like that would ever happen.
But here they were, gliding across the living room floor. His hand in hers.
“Hey, guess you’re not a total square after all, Thatch. You’re pretty good!”
“I feel ridiculous.”
“Yeah. You sure look it. Take a compliment, baby.”
…baby?
It hit like a ton of bricks.
Thatcher, though he was hesitant, gave her a spin. Dark hair fluttering behind her as she twirled, resting against him briefly, looking up at him.
He hoped she couldn’t feel how warm he’d become. Half of it was breaking a sweat from dancing…the other part, well…
“What’s the matter?”
“Uh…oh, nothing. Just wasn’t expecting to go dancing tonight is all.”
“Well, we can stop if you’re tired—“
“No!! …no, Ruth, I-I’m good.”
She squinted at him, giving him a wry smile.
“Whatever you say, Fred Astaire…”
A slower song followed. Weaver stared at him, surprised.
“Geez…hopeless romantic, huh?”
Ouch. Felt like a knife to the gut.
“Sure, you keep thinkin’ that—“
“Oh, don’t bail on me now—“
Without warning, she swept him into the typical slow dance posture.
Thatcher had quite literally had a dream about this. Dave had known something was up that morning, but like he’d ever tell him something so embarrassing. It was especially weird to see her after the fact.
His mind kept racing.
Oh she’s going that way. No no, slow down. Just be careful…oh gosh, I’m squeezing her hand—aaaand, I’m on her foot.
Ruth looked up at him snidely.
Say something, idiot.
“I’ve got something underfoot.”
Brilliant.
“Yeah, it’s me, you big oaf.”
Thatcher snorted. The remark caught him off guard.
“Awww, the little piggy’s out again!”
“Oh, shut up—“
“Okay, then pick your foot up and keep going, before I kick you with mine.”
“Whatever you say, Miss Weaver…”
With a quieter laugh, he began to sway her gently again. This was beginning to feel more natural. The steps becoming more put-together and less clumsy.
Again, why did everything else disappear with her there?
That thing could have come in through the window and they’d both be dead in the water…why didn’t he care?
If that freak doesn’t kill me, the embarrassment of having to explain this to Dave will.
“We should do this more often,” she chirped.
“…I don’t know when we’d get the time for that, though.”
“Good point. Maybe once this blows over?”
“…you got it, baby.”
Her eyes practically disappeared as she beamed.
The song wound down at the worst time.
“Ah. And you were just starting to figure out the rhythm!”
He teased Ruth, poking his tongue out at her.
“Well, who’s to say I can’t pick this one up a little quicker?”
A thought suddenly dawned on Thatcher. A thought he couldn’t ignore.
We’re not smoking. We’re close together. Maybe…
“…maybe. First though…would you let me try something? Just for a sec.”
This could be the end for me. She’ll want a different partner after this.
Ignorant to his panic, Ruth grinned boldly.
“…try me.”
Slowly, he unwrapped his fingers from around her hand, cupping the side of her face. His fingers were trembling, he hoped desperately that she couldn’t tell. Resting his thumb on her chin, he moved a little bit closer.
She’s gonna pull away…now.
But she didn’t. Ruth just looked up at him, eyes slightly wider, but actually starting to move her head forward too.
Clumsily, their teeth clacked together.
“Ow—“
“Ouch—!”
No, we’re doing this—
“Take two-“
He pressed forwards, setting his mouth in the correct shape this time. Just like that, his lips were on hers. He closed his eyes as she kissed him back. Thatcher felt like he was melting.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed someone. Probably high school, he guessed. He hoped he’d somehow improved since then, despite having no practice.
She didn’t pull back at all, he broke it off. To come up for air, mostly.
His heart was leaping out of his chest, he was sure she could hear it. It physically pained him to open his eyes.
Wonder what snarky comment I’ll hear from this. Surely I’ll get one. She always comes up with something.
But Ruth was silent. Gazing up at him, starry-eyed. Her cheeks were rosy. He could feel his own face burning up, must have been burgundy.
“…whoa.”
He screwed his eyes shut and popped them open again.
“Um…Ruth?”
“Yeah?”
“You have any idea how long I wanted to do that?”
“No. But I wish you did it sooner.”
Another hard blink.
“Get out.”
“I uh…I can’t…”
“Pffshh—“
That broke him out of it. Suddenly he was laughing, nearly doubling over. He couldn’t stop giggling. This felt like finally talking to the girl in homeroom. Ruth chuckled right along with him, redder than ever.
“What?”
“You actually…”
He stood up straight again.
“You wanted…this?”
“…I could write ‘oblivious’ on my forehead and you wouldn’t see it.”
Thatcher just rolled his eyes.
“We both have some ridiculous ways of saying ‘I like you’, I guess.”
Silence hung for a moment. It was a gentle silence, like a soft breeze.
“Hey.”
“Mm?”
“Can I try?”
“Wha—“
Her hand caressed his cheek, and he understood fine.
“O—oh!!! Yes, yes—please~”
She drew him close, leaning into him as she kissed him. He could have floated right off the ground.
After a while, Ruth pulled back.
“…you’re good, Davis. You are good.”
His face broke out in a grin, leading her back in with his arm, rocking them both to the new song.
“You’re still better.”
________________
That same song played from that same tape recorder. Scratchy and weathered by now, after so many times of playing it again and again.
Thatcher laid face down. He’d lost the tape behind his bed somewhere about a year ago, and had absentmindedly popped it in as he tried…and failed, to sleep.
He’d completely forgotten this one. Had thrown it in a fit of anger a few days after the worst night of his life.
He pulled Weaver’s jacket in closer, practically burrowing into it. Taking a deep breath.
Thatcher had always found it strange how she wore such a sickly-sweet fragrance. He always kind of hated it. Sugary things made his stomach turn. But it was her scent, so he’d never tell her to stop.
He was glad he hadn’t. The day this didn’t have that scent on it anymore…that was the day he’d really lose it all.
Thatcher could feel the eyes of the thing that occasionally took up residence in his closet. Her eyes.
No.
No, those were not her eyes.
They were the plastic button eyes on a sick taxidermy of his former best friend, and love of his life.
Dead. Because he was too afraid.
Another fit of ragged, uncontrollable sobbing seized him, tears soaking the flannel lining of the jacket. He cried over her every day since she’d been taken from him.
My girl. They took my girl.
What he wouldn’t give to see her holding out her hand, and asking him to dance, with that coy little smile again.
The jacket was practically smothering him at this point, but he didn’t care. It was like he was burying himself in her. That was the ideal. At this point, he wasn’t sure of what truly happened to those who died, but he prayed, to whomever would listen, that Ruth could forgive him, and give him the strength to make it to the end of this.
No matter what that looked like.
I’ll dance with you again one day. If you still want me, after what I let happen to you. Then it’ll all be worth it.
Wrapping the jacket sleeves around himself, he whimpered through his teeth. How he wished to feel those fingers running through his hair again.
The thought of seeing her in the future wasn’t enough to remedy the pain that worked its way into every part of him. Rolling onto his back, he looked up towards the ceiling, gasping hard for breath.
One way or another. We’ll be together again…one day. I’d fight a billion of these myself if it meant you were here in my arms again.
Sweat and tears ran down the sides of his face, he was sure he looked horrible. But all he could think about was her.
I love you, Ruth. I’ll love you until the day I die…and beyond that.
Someday, baby…
Someday…
4 notes · View notes
venomremmy777 · 3 years ago
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-sigh-
A lot of you did not understand my last post, so let me explain
I KNOW THAT SAYING A SHIP IS CANON IS MEMEING
Hell, I do the very same thing MYSELF. I know they’re just enjoying ships, but some people GENUINELY think the ship is canon. As usual, the MHA fandom took this too literally, and too generally, so let me walk you through this-
Horikoshi: Makes Deku play a big role in helping Todoroki from his trauma, and gives fanservice
The Fandom: OMG TODODEKU CANON
I know when people say TodoDeku is canon, if any, they’re joking. I originally wasn’t going to put TodoDeku, since it wouldn’t make much sense to put it. But I decided to anyways, but just as a lead. That’s all it was, a lead, into this-
Horikoshi: Has Uraraka get a crush on Deku
The Fandom: NO! IZUOCHA CANON NOW, NOT TODODEKU
Honestly this doesn’t have much importance either, I was just adding the TodoDeku vs IzuOcha stuff for relevance, and the fact I wanted to include as many mainstream ships as possible, without targeting one group.
Horikoshi: Writes an intimate and relationship between Momo and Jirou
The fandom: THEY’RE LESBIANS! 🥰
A lot of people GENUINELY think this. Jirou has been shown to blush or get shy around girls, and her Momo are often featured next to each other in Horikoshis sketch’s, BLUSHING. No, no- I’m not saying they’re canon, I’m just saying canon things. Take it as you will.
But…
Horikoshi: Makes Jirou the most important person to Kaminari
The fandom: IF THATS NOT ON THE ROAD TO CANON IDK WHAT IS! 😍
Okay so, now that Jirou is important to Kaminari, all of a sudden the MomoJirou stuff is irrelevant? KamiJirou is considered one of the most canon BNHA ships in the MHA fandom, because of this. But how come people considered MomoJirou a possibility, but they don’t now? And yes, I know, not everyone thinks that. Some people think KamiJirou is canon and others think MomoJirou is, I don’t really think anyone changed their minds on this one.
Idk if you’ve caught on, but I was mainly targeting a certain group, I just added other ships for fillers and meme- purposes. I also didn’t want to seem biased or like I was attacking, but I suppose I’ll have to since y’all did an r/whooosh
Horikoshi: Says he likes TodoMom-
The fandom: cOnFiRmEd
Again…we’re just going to brush off the MomoJirou progress? Or the fact Todoroki and Momo don’t have a lot of screentime. Yes, Horikoshi likes Todomomo. That does give it a high chance and I DO Love this ship! But a creator liking a ship doesn’t make it canon! Trust me, other fandoms, other experiences…
People genuinely think TodoMomo is canon too. Not like a funny “Haha Todoroki is looking at her in this background panel” No, I mean FULL ON, SERIOUS, ESSAY-LENGTH EXPLANATIONS and GENUINE beliefs
Horikoshi: Writes an arc about KiriBaku and their importance to each other, giving subtle hints and a shit ton of “coincidental” evidence
The fandom: GUYS LOOOOOK! MORE KRBK PROOF! KIRIBAKU CANON! 😍
Welp, here it is. The first of the three I was targeting, and my own fandom. I am, in fact, one of those delusional people, who thinks it’s actually canon. But I am well aware the LGBT does not have the upper hand in a Shounen genre, but I like to hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find peace here. I wasn’t really talking about the fact of Krbks calling KRBK canon, cause that would have been hypocritical of me. I meant the fact that at a certain point, Kirishima and Bakugo’s relationship was focused on so much in 2018, it basically became this trend. Where EVERYONE thought this ship had a chance. Because they seemed to ALWAYS BE NEXT TO EACH OTHER
You’re probably thinking,”What’s the point of this then?”
Well, here’s the point-
Horikoshi: Drops them to focus on Bakugo and Deku’s redemption and relationship building
Fandom: Oop- GUESS BKDK IS CANON NOW 😄🤭 So sad, I wanted KiriBaku/ IzuOcha oh well 😔
Okay here’s the thing, with the KRBK vs BKDK, I meant it more of a platonic or general sense. People seem to think that just because Kirishima and Bakugo haven’t interacted in a hundred chapters they’re suddenly irrelevant to each other?! As if they aren’t at least friends anymore?!?! I’ve seen people say “Kirishima was used for Bakugo’s redemption so he could get along better with Deku, so now there’s no need for him anymore” Um…no? KiriBakus development is a WHOLE OTHER THING FROM BKDK DEVELOPMENT. And all of you fellow Krbks- Stop crying a river because they haven’t interacted for 100 chapters! Bakugo and Deku redeeming their friendship is important!! LET THE BKDKS HAVE THIS! It’s what they wanted. Just because Deku and Bakugo are becoming friends, doesn’t mean Kirishima and Bakugo aren’t. So, just stop. Please. You don’t become best friends with each other and then all of a sudden say “Hey dude, your important to me n’ all, but there’s this other guy who I used to be friends with, but I kinda bullied him, so…Kinda gotta fix my relationship with him. Anyways lmao bye sEe yA nEVEr-“ I’m preeetttyyy sure that’s not how it works.
A lot of you might say, “No one says that” Oh, Ho, Really?
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Now, finally, the last serious one…
Horikoshi: Gives Kirishima and Mina a chapter
The fandom: KiRiMinA cOnfiRmEd
This one I am being DEADASS serious. Horikoshi decided to finally introduce the arc where Kirishima gets over what happened in middle school, and Minas importance or lack thereof, whatever, to him. He saved her, and Mina did a new move “Acid Man” inspired by “UNBREAKABLE”. And apparently, this was leading to the road of being endgame. HELL- Even some Krbks were pouting like, “Yeah, but with the way the manga is going KiriMina is going to be endgame” OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS. Again! Just fuck the Krbk development right?! Just fuck it all! Because apparently, they can’t have other relationships of them focused on, without you thinking THATS going to be canon instead. Before you call me biased and delusional, MORE PROOF 👇
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The last “IiDaDeKu” one was clearly just a meme, a funny, trending note to end on.
Please oh please understand the purpose of this!! It’s too make those of you doing this award of how guillable you’re being- and that NO SHIPS ARE CANON UNTIL THEY ACTUALLY ARE, FOR NOW ITS JUST POTENTIAL
And as a joke!! So we can LAUGH together about how much of a MESS this fandom is!
I mean- Fuck- I just had to explain a joke to you!!!
Also I’m sorry about my attitude but the replies made me pissed- Y’all made me sound like an Anti or a dude bro
WHO I HATE WITH EVERY SINGLE FIBER IN MY BEING
So don’t compare me to them again!!
I have a feeling- A STRONG feeling, some of y’all will think I’m just being rude and stupid, and I have no right to be mad, and STILL won’t get the purpose or joke of my last post, but if you do…
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THANK YOU
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BONUS:
Yes I do understand enjoying ships actually. Shipping is my whole life, I more than understand the difference between shipping for fun and shipping for a purpose. I get that some people ship as a comfort and others a hobby. I know it’s both platonic and romantic. I understand it’s not only to pair people together but to explore different possibilities. I know the difference between wanting your ship to be canon and genuinely thinking it is. I know shipping is for enjoyment, and it’s not about which becomes canon. I KNOW people are joking when they say it’s canon, but in the case with some of these they aren’t. And yeah, I know it’s a minority, but it’s an annoying, LOUD minority. No shit Sherlock people say certain ships are canon as a joke when they get crumbs
NO FUCKING DUH
54 notes · View notes
flames-tstuff · 3 years ago
Note
Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!
So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈
To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)
Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.
Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro
Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!
Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.
After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.
She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.
That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.
“What are you looking at, Round Face?”
She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”
Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Tch. What are you, five years old?”
“Wh… what do you mean?”
At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.
“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”
Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.
“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”
Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.
Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”
Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.
“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”
Again, silence.
“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”
Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.
“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”
Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.
“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”
“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”
“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”
~~~
The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.
After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.
“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.
“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.
“…a playground?”
“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”
And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.
“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”
Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”
Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.
Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”
“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.
“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”
Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family’s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”
Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”
Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”
Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”
“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.
~~~
After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.
“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”
“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”
He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”
“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.
“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”
Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”
Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”
She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.
The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.
Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.
Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.
“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”
“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”
Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.
Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.
“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.
“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”
This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.
Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.
“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.
“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”
“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”
The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.
“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.
“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”
After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”
Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”
He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.
And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.
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jarofstyles · 4 years ago
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SK8ER BOI II- Ollie
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A/N: oooOOOO here we go! a little more development before the rollercoaster starts. The little angsty elements make it that much more exciting though. Enjoy! - n + d
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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
warnings: drug use (weed), cheating, smut, ass play
word count: 10.5k
The next day at school, it wasn’t hard to find Y/N. She stood with her friends as Harry skated past, waving at her as he went by. His black sweater and jeans were practical and normal wear. 
“Since when were you friends with him?” One of her friends asked with raised brows. “He’s not the most social of them all.” 
It was true. Harry tended to keep to himself and minded his own business, stayed with his group of friends and didn’t bother anyone. He hooked up at parties to be people’s bad boy fantasies and all that but he wasn’t much of a talker in social situations. Not a lot was known about him besides he smoked weed, drank, hooked up and was generally a nice guy. You could label him a stoner skater and it wouldn’t be wrong.
It was really nice to see Harry, Y/N thought it was cute that he waved when he skated past. It did bring a smile to her face. “Oh, we’re assigned partners for Mr. Beck’s anatomy class.” Y/N explained, “he’s actually really nice. Easy to work with.” She nodded and noticed Timmy looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’m going over again on Friday to work on it.” She let him know, wrapping her arm around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You alright?” Of course Y/N just had to act as she would normally, she couldn’t let anyone know of her little secret. It wasn’t that hard keeping up with Timmy though, she did genuinely care about him and affection was her immediate way of interacting with him. Hugs, kisses, nothing had changed really. 
“Nothing, babe, was just curious.” Timothée smiled down at her and leaned down to peck her lips. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, that spark really wasn’t there.
Even Harry noticed, there was no chemistry. Lighting up a cigarette, he leaned against the tree with Niall talking Zayn’s ear off, watching the couple. It looked like they were friendly but the guys’ arm stayed on her arm. The boy didn’t loop around her waist, didn’t hold her body closer— no. It was a very obvious thing to him now more than ever. 
“I’m positive he’s not into girls.” Harry said. “Nothing wrong with it but... Y/N’s hot. He’s literally not touching her at all.” He spoke lowly. His friends didn’t know he was hooking up with her and it was normal for him to have random outbursts like this so it was okay for him to say. 
“Ya think? He looks sickly whenever she kisses him.” Niall snickered. “It’s fine but, he shouldn’t string the poor girl along.” 
Harry agreed.
----
The rest of the week went by just fine but realistically Y/N was excited for Friday. Maybe it was bad of her to get all ready for him as if they were a thing, but she wanted to feel nice and look nice for him even if it was just someone she was hooking up with. Y/N had taken extra precautions, telling her mom she was working on a project with a friend but she might go to Timmy’s after to spend the night. Now. Y/N wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying, but just in case. She wanted to have as much time with Harry as she possibly could. So, she got dropped off at Harry’s around 5 after dinner, her heart beat picking up again. She had worn a set of underwear with little hearts on it, thinking it was cute. Y/N didn’t feel comfortable wearing overly sexy sets, they just weren’t her. Hopefully Harry would think they were cute. She wasn’t even sure if they were for real going to do stuff again, but she could only assume so.
He had kept an eye on Y/N and Timmy for the rest of the week and struggled to understand why Y/N was still with the dude. He didn’t pay her much attention. Sure, he would kiss her head or rub her arm but there was no physical affection. From what Harry has seen, Y/N thrived off of being touched. It must be really hard for her. He didn’t know why she went for that and stood for the treatment especially when she was barely getting anything out of the agreement. It confused the fuck out of him. Either way, he tried to stay out of it. the house was clean and Y/N was coming over and he had questions for her, so he would ask them later. He figured if it ran late enough he could order pizza and bring her home. Or whatever she was doing next. It was Friday. He was just planning on smoking and using his telescope.
Y/N texted him saying she was there and smiled up at him when he opened the door. Just as last time, the kitties came running over to greet her and she couldn’t help but smile, again dropping down to pet them all. 
“Hi my angels!! I missed you.” She giggled, letting one of them climb up onto her lap. She picked it up and nuzzled against it, pressing a kiss to its nose and hummed as it purred and went to kiss her nose. “Awe, thank you!” She cooed, setting it back down. She stood up when she heard Harry clear his throat, blushing a little. “Hi.” She giggled and brushed her skirt down. Y/N took her shoes off as usual and left them by the door before following him up the stairs to his bedroom. She’d noticed he had candles lit this time, had some fairy lights going too. Was he setting the mood? “It looks nice in here.” She complimented, taking a seat on his bed. “How was your week?” She asked, wanting to make some kind of conversation because she really didn’t want to just blurt out about how she’d been thinking about his dick the whole week.
“Thanks. M’gonna smoke a bit and look at my telescopes later so I made it cozy.” Harry shrugged. Also, it would be easier for her to be comfortable around him. A good atmosphere was important. “What about you?” He laid his laptop out on his bed. Today he was in comfortable clothes. A sweatshirt and joggers but— it was kind of hot. He had a tank top underneath, so he slid it off and let himself be clothed in just the tank. It showed off a nice amount of tattoos. His parents were cool like that. They let him get them as long as he did well. Said it was his body and his choice to regret it if he did one day. “Ah, Muffin likes you.” The orange kitty weaved around her legs, mewing to be picked up. It did indeed love Y/N and her good energy.
“Is that what you do most nights then?” Y/N asked curiously, wondering if astronomy was something he was majorly into. “Didn’t know you were into astronomy.... then again, I don’t know a lot about you so.” Y/N chuckled and blushed, swallowing thickly as she admired his tattoos. “Those are really nice by the way.” She spoke, nodding to his arm. Y/N knew she was awkward with making conversation, but hopefully he got the hint that she wanted to hear more about him if he let her. “I’m supposed to go to Timmy’s later.” She explained, knowing he probably wouldn’t like that. Truth be told, she’d rather stay here with Harry, but she hadn’t spent any time with her boyfriend this week and she felt bad. “Hi muffin.” She cooed down at the kitten in her lap, “you get as cozy as you’d like, okay?” She told the cat not expecting it to respond with a meow. Y/N looked at Harry with wide eyes when it happened, “oh my goodness!!”
He laughed under his breath. She was going to her boyfriends after getting her shit wrecked by Harry? Part of him liked it. She would go and think about how Harry was by far a better choice. There were no ifs ands or buts. He was annoyed on another part because he wasn’t sure why she kept giving the dude the tone of day, but apparently that wasn’t his business. A slight smile came on his face as he looked at her with the cat in her, astonished that she had talked back to her. 
“She likes you quite a bit.” He commented, bringing his computer to his lap. “But thanks, about the tattoos. I love em. And I love astronomy. The stars and all that stuff. My dad works at NASA, so I’d like to go there too.” He hummed. “Not an astronaut cause, I’d go crazy being trapped in a ship but... learning about it. It’s cool.”
Y/N was surprised to hear it, but her heart did swell. Something about men that loved the stars made her all gooey because they were naturally dreamers regardless if they saw it that way or not. She knew Harry was artsy, liked that he was in fact, it gave him a lot more depth. Fuck. She needed to stop thinking that way. 
“That’s so cool! You have to be really smart for that.” Y/N said, knowing he must have to be a genius to work for NASA. It was an extremely complicated job, lots of math involved, but Harry seemed to be somewhat offended at her question. “No, no— I didn’t mean it like that, I just.. sorry, I knew you were smart I just. I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” She spoke, feeling herself blush. He was far smarter than her that’s for sure. She of course was just trying to be a teacher, well.. she didn’t quite know what she wanted to be yet. Y/N was often stuck in feeling like she didn’t really have a purpose.
“It’s cool, I get it. A miswording.” Harry chuckled as he saw her panic that she offended him. He was used to people putting him off as a lazy student because of his looks and calm demeanor. But she obviously didn’t mean it. “Yeah, it’s what I want to do. Lucky my dad is there but I’m not gonna get a job by slacking, so I make sure to get A’s. A lot of people don’t expect it of me but it’s fun. School is really easy for me.” He didn’t have to try. He was that lucky bitch. It came to him naturally. “But what about you? What do you want to do?” He was curious what she would be interested in. If she wanted to be something specific or if she was figuring it out. He could see her doing something artsy or with literature. She seemed to be a bit bookish when it came to that.
Y/N was happy to know he did well in school, glad he found it easy because she was often panicked with how difficult it could be whenever there was all too much going on. “I think that’s great though, it’s nice to have a passion.” She said, petting the kitty in her lap. “I um... I don’t really know yet. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, cause I really like little kids and I’d really like to help them learn.” Y/N explained, “but sometimes I wonder what else I could do? I second guess myself a lot.” It was a struggle for her internally but she knew she’d figure it out eventually. She did have lots of passions, writing being one of them, she just didn’t think it was worth the stress of money. She let out a deep breath, watching the cat jump out of her lap to get some attention from Harry. She went to work on the project wanting to get a lot done so that they could do stuff, if of course he wanted to. Again, she didn’t want to assume that it was a more than one time thing.
“It’s okay. It’s definitely hard. You don’t have to know now. I’m lucky cause my parents just let me find what I like and I was early on with what I liked. They put a pressure on us to know right now and we don’t have to.” Harry shrugged. “My whole side of my dad’s family is into space and engineering. It was funny when he married my mum because they’re kind of opposite? He’s practical in work but goofy as shit at home. My mom is like... the best. But she’s the one who makes sure my dad doesn’t just buy a Jeep for the fuck of it.” He laughed. Their careers and their personalities matched well though. It was easy to open up to Y/N because she genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Plus, it wasn’t classified information. “What do you like? You should try and look into stuff that’s like... that you’ll enjoy. No sense in working a job you hate forever.”
“Your parents seem really cool.” Y/N smiled brightly at him, genuinely happy that he had a good life. Harry didn’t deserve to feel hurt ever. No. He had a good head on his shoulders and a great support system. She felt like there was a spot for a nice girl in his life, but it seemed like he wasn’t actively searching for one? Maybe that was a sore subject. She let out a breath, “I really like writing, it’s fun for me to express myself in that way. But I don’t think I’d be a very good writer as a job or anything. That’s mainly why I said I’d be happy with teaching, cause I know I couldn’t ever be upset knowing I’m teaching little kids something... giving them a good example. Know how important it is to have good teachers that make you feel comfortable.” Y/N was really enjoying just getting to know Harry. It was easy talking to him, he was lovely, really. No judgement at all and of course he gave great advice. It was then that she got interrupted by a call. It was Timmy. 
“Hey... is everything alright?” She knew he wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.
“Hey, Uh... I don’t think we can do Tonight. We’re super busy with the committee and planning stuff and I wouldn’t be good company.” He said distractedly. He was very focused on being student body president again and he took it far too seriously. “We can go out one day next week? It’ll calm down after I get reelected!” No it wouldn’t. He was always coming up with excuses. “But— sorry, they got food and we’re working on a new slogan for the posters. I’ll talk to you later, sorry.” 
Harry could see her face fall and her lip start to tremble. He immediately felt concern, moving to sit up more on the bed and tilted his head as she let the phone fall on the bed. “Hey... what’s up?” He asked gently. Not sure what was going on but knowing that he probably should be concerned by the look on her face. “What happened?”
Of course. Excuses as usual. Y/N was trying, trying really hard to be a good girlfriend or whatever the fuck she was. God, she wanted to have a nice conversation with him today, ask him what had been up with him recently but he had been avoiding her like the plague. He didn’t like her even as a friend? Was that it? Even if he was gay, she could only hope he would tell her instead of stringing her along. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do because realistically it shouldn’t hurt her this much, but she had been with him for three whole years, been best friends before that. Course it hurts. Y/N swallowed thickly, tears starting to fall down her face as she looked at Harry. He’d think it was stupid. It was no secret that Harry didn’t like Timothée, at least to her at least. She didn’t want to look stupid. 
“Timmy he’s busy with the campaign is stuff... said we can’t hang out.” Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes. She was crying more so cause she was embarrassed. She felt like everyone knew and she was just getting dragged along.
Anger welled in him. How many times was this asshole going to hurt her heart? How could he not see he was selfishly dragging this shit out and leading her on when she could be out of that relationship and be shown an actual thing or two about a man. 
“No... Y/N, don’t cry.” He whispered. Internally, he felt panicked but he moved over to where she sat and placed an arm around her. “It’s alright. He’s a loser for that. But I feel like there’s more to why you’re so upset about it.” He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her the best he possibly could. “Does he do this a lot?” He was curious, trying to understand her complete meltdown now from him not wanting to hang out. It had to be a common thing if she was this upset over it.
Hearing the words ‘dont cry’ only made her cry more, hiding her face in his chest. She didn’t trust her voice yet, a sob coming from her as she nodded her head to let him know it was a regular thing. 
“Sorry...” She sniffled, trying to catch her breath properly. “I’m just embarrassed...” Y/N explained, “cause he just— he’d rather do anything than hang out with me.... and you know, now I’m suspecting he might not be straight, but to his knowledge he still thinks I don’t know. So he’s just— I don’t want to pressure him into coming out if he isn’t ready either! What if he isn't?” She felt more tears fall, wiping them aggressively. “Feel really stupid for being upset cause I feel like everyone knows except for me, and he’s just dragging me along and isn’t even trying to fake it— just hurts cause you know, thought he’d want to at least hang out with me cause he thinks I’m cool or whatever but apparent not.” Y/N felt very hurt, her heart cracking because she felt like everything was falling apart quite quickly and she didn’t want to just dump it all on Harry like this.
“Woah... hold on there. He’s the idiot, bunny.” He left a pet name slip. “What type of person does that shit to someone else? You are very cool. Very pretty. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s a him issue. A hundred percent not a you thing, love.” He was positive about that. Y/N hadn’t done anything to deserve this, at all. It made him sad to think that she could possibly be feeling as though it’s genuinely her fault. “It’s not stupid to be upset either. It’s valid. Doesn’t matter if he's straight or not. He’s pushing and stringing you along and not giving you anything but a title for it. I watched you both this week a bit. Sorry If that’s creepy but... he doesn’t treat you right. Even as a friend.” He explained. It made him so sad to think that the boy was hurting her for no damn reason. “Can I tell you something? I was wicked excited to hang out with you today. I've been looking forward to it all week. I don’t like hanging with lame people so... you’re definitely very cool.”
Y/N chuckled at his comment, sniffling a bit. “Are you sure you weren’t excited because you knew you’d get some?” She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Y/N wasn’t assuming he was like that, but no part of her believed she was cool enough for Harry and her tone displayed that. Harry was being very sweet to her and he absolutely didn’t have to. She could have just excused herself and collected herself and carried on with the project but he was being insistent on calming her down. She let out shaky breaths, staying snuggled into his chest because she found it to be the most comfortable thing. “Sorry I’m crying all over your shirt.” Y/N chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him with her eyes all blown. She liked him. She liked him a lot but she knew that he wouldn’t want to be involved with someone like her. She was such a baby and was scared of everything. She didn’t do drugs, didn’t go to parties, she wasn’t sexy. She just minded her business and watched anime at home.
“Woah... no, that wasn’t why I was excited. I mean, I was hoping we would do something but I wasn’t gonna push it if it didn't feel right. You’re a genuinely cool girl, Y/N. I don’t have a ton of Friends so like... it’s cool to find someone I think I can be friends with.” He was sad she felt that perhaps that was her only worth to him. It wasn’t at all. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about the shirt, I don’t want you to be sad.” He continued rubbing her back gently. Poor Y/N. She was a mess in her mind. “But you’re a lot more than just a hookup. To anyone. You’ve got a ton of worth and you’re fun to be around regardless.” He didn’t like the thought of her being sad. “We can just hang out after we finish the part we’re working on. We’re already ahead. I’ll uh... I can show you some constellations if you wanted?”
It really did mean a lot to her to hear him say that. Y/N always felt that she was constantly in her boyfriend’s shadow, always being called ‘Timmy’s girlfriend’ and never by her name at times. Y/N wanted to be her own person, liked that that’s how Harry saw her. It made her feel all warm inside. Her eyes rested up again but she didn’t cry, a smile finding its way to her face before she practically jumped him with a hug. Y/N squeezed him tight, nuzzling her face into his neck. 
“Thank you.” She mumbled quietly against his shoulder, holding on to him tight for a while. 
“I’d really like that.. the constellations.” She told him quietly as she loosened her grip, but stayed hugging him closely. It felt really nice.
“Great. There’s a ladder I have— we can get up to the roof and look at ‘em. It’s safe.” He had been up there so much that there was a railing on the roof his dad hired someone to put up. Just in case. “In the meantime, I can order pizza or something while we work? By the time it gets here we’ll be done.” He suggested. Feeling the nod in his neck he smiled, grabbing his phone and calling his favorite pizza place. 
She had stayed in his lap while he ordered, his fingers going up and down her side as he got them a cheese and pepperoni as well as some of those cinnamon dessert sticks. She needed it after a hard day. Harry didn’t like physical touch all that much when it came to strangers but he already considered her a friend. 
----
Working went by rather quickly after her little cry, they’d both decided they had done a lot of work today so they started packing up and Y/N was getting more relaxed. She had put her stuff in her backpack and moved it off of his bed by the door so they had more space. He was getting ready to go outside, gathering some things. 
“Know you said you were going to smoke, you still can if you want, don’t want to ruin your night.” Y/N said softly, standing beside him as he opened the door to the roof. It was really cool how he had a place to look at all of the stars, his family must be extremely proud of him. 
Harry helped her climb up and gave her a blanket to lay out while he brought all of his stuff up. He seemed really excited to be doing all of this and that made her smile, she was excited to get to know him on this level, hear him talk about things he was passionate about. 
In Harry’s eyes, she couldn’t ruin his night. Not when she was excited to learn about the stars and things like that. She didn’t make fun. Instead she accepted his passion and was eager to have him explain. He grabbed some of his equipment, bringing it up so they could look at the planets visible if they wanted to. The door was closed so the cats didn’t follow them up there, Harry also bringing a sweatshirt for her to wear. It felt weird, giving a girl a piece of clothing to wear. Usually he hooked up and left. But Y/N deserved more respect than that. She was hurting. 
“Here— Uh, you can wear this cause it’s a bit chilly.” He murmured, handing it to her to put on as he put the telescope down and sat down next to her. She did, and he was happy because it was getting nippy out even though during the day it had been warm. “Let’s see... let’s look at constellations first and then I can show you my telescope and see other stuff.”
Y/N felt really cozy now that she was wrapped up in the warmth of Harry’s sweatshirt. She’d seen him wear it earlier, he also wore it to school. It was a big navy one that said, don’t trip. She knew that this didn’t mean anything though, he just didn’t want her to be cold is all. She pulled the sleeves up over her hands, pawing them up for optimum comfort and laid back on the blankets with him so it was easier to see. She scooted closer, looking up at the clear night sky. It was quite dark outside, but the moonlight illuminated everything just enough for them to be able to see what they were doing. Y/N was looking up at a bunch of stars, clearly, but she only knew a few constellations. 
“Alright then, educate me, Mr. Styles.” She said with a small hum, just joking around with him.
“Starting simple I suppose. So... up there.” Harry pointed, getting close to her so they would have similar lines of sight. “That’s the Little Dipper. And right over there? The big one.” He traced them outline with his finger. “When I was little I wanted to be a star. Everyone thought I meant like an actor or something but no. I literally meant I wanted to be one of the stars.” He chuckled. “I study them instead. But it gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.” He adjusted his body so theirs were pushed together for optimum warmth and accuracy. “Each of the stars that makes up the constellation is a different galaxy. Our sun is a star. Isn’t that wild? Like... we are the stars in other universes. We are in their sky.” He paused. “At least if you believe in that sort of things. I do.
Y/N moved so that she was laying on the inner part of his arm, closer to his chest. It was a lot easier to look at them this way. She gasped as he pointed out the two, smiling because it really was beautiful. “You know... I have freckles that look like a Little Dipper on my arm.” She was really proud of that, and felt like he would appreciate the little fact. “Aren’t some of them like... based on Greek myth and stuff?” She asked curiously, naturally nerdy about those types of things. Y/N liked all kinds of mythological stories, loved hearing about what they were meant to teach people. She didn’t necessarily believe, but sometimes she wanted to. 
Harry was very comfortable to lay on. They hadn’t exactly cuddled like this before, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they did this because she was much calmer now. She felt a lot more relaxed.
“Mhm. There’s Orion and his belt. The seven sisters. You can see them over there.” He pointed each one out. “The seven sisters is a star cluster that I particularly like. I always wonder what lies behind them. If it’s incredibly hot wherever it is because of the nearness of the stars.” He liked feeling her lay on him like this. It was relaxing. She was good to lay around with. “I suppose we’ll never know the absolute truth, unless a new technology comes out that allows us to go light years. Or aliens. Either way.” He was joking but also, not really. He believed in aliens. “Over there  is the Gemini constellation. The twins. Also an astrological sign. Leo, the lion. Pisces. Represents Aphrodite and Eros tying themselves together to escape typhon, the worst monster in mythology.” Harry murmured. “I sit for hours out here and just stare. I know it’s a bit weird but it’s comforting at the same time it’s scary.  That we’re so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things but... our beings can mean the world to someone else.”
Y/N nodded along, listening intently as he spoke. The sound of his voice alone was soothing, but she found herself turning her head to look at him instead of the stars an awful lot. She thought he was beautiful, especially in the moonlight. She needed to cut it out though. He was a good friend to her, she shouldn’t be getting too ahead of herself when she had just found something good. 
“Think it’s really cool... always wondered about stuff like that. Space is really scary but very fascinating.” She said and let out a sigh, “if you ever want to talk about it more, we can...” Y/N blushed, genuinely wanting to hear random space facts if that was something he wanted to do. 
She was finding that the little crush she’d always had on him was for good reason. He was a really cool guy. Really really cool. He was so relaxed and laid back, the amount of calmness he displayed was incredible. Maybe hanging out with him more would teach her to relax better.
“Yeah? You’re cool, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her efforts. She was really trying. Really, really trying to be a good friend to him and god if it didn’t make him want to make out with her. “Did you want to smoke with me? If not, I can sit at the roof door and we can talk from a distance so you don’t get any of the smoke.” He questioned. Harry didn’t want to pressure her but he did feel like perhaps she would like it. “It’s not scary or anything.” He could see her internal debate. “You’ll probably cough a bit at first. Some people are different. You’ll also probably be hungry, and it does make you a bit more horny than normal.  At least it does for me, 100%.” He laughed. Y/N could benefit from it. “But I like it cause it makes me feel a lot more relaxed and loosened up. It feels nice to not worry about tests or the future for a bit.”
Y/N looked at him with a bashful but curious gaze, “I um... yeah, I’d like to.” She said with a nod. It seemed like a good idea, relaxing? being hungry and horny? Sign her up. She knew he wouldn’t put her up to anything that could endanger her, besides, he did it all the time and he was just fine. She sat up and watched as he took out a little box, pulling out a ziplock bag of green clusters and a circular object. Y/N watched as he broke about a green cluster and placed it into the object, twisting it to grind up the weed. He meticulously rolled up one perfectly packed joint, pulling out a lighter before setting the box to the side. She was a little nervous, but he made it look so easy. Y/N watched as he lit it and inhaled with ease, it looked simple enough. She just had to breathe in. He passed it to her with no rush and she brought it to her lips and inhaled. Y/N felt the smoke fill her lungs but she did start coughing, getting used to the sensation. 
“That was so weird.” She laughed a bit as she coughed but took another hit nonetheless, this time a bit more prepared.
“Yeah, it can be trippy when you first try and do it but it gets better.” Harry smiled at her attempts. It was admirable that she was so easily trying new things. It was something he liked about her. She didn’t judge much. They passed it back and forth and Harry had the bright idea to move everything inside before he was too lazy to, first bringing down the telescope and then helping her down the stairs. 
“Wait— look at this. Lay on the bed.” He grinned, watching her confused face. He turned the lights down and flicked on the star projector that filled the room with many star-like projections. It made his room look like space. Even better when high. He hopped next to her in his bed. “What do you think?”
Y/N knew that she’d feel all floaty when high, but this was really cool. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. She carefully maneuvered down from the roof with Harry’s help, pulling off the hoodie because she suddenly felt very warm. 
“Woah!” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked around the room. “You didn’t show me this last time!” She looked at him with a look of wonder. It was very much amusing. She laid back and closed her eyes a bit, just soaking in the moment and how much it smelled like him in his bed. “Feels really nice...” She said lazily to him, “can you come here please?” Y/N asked, her voice going all cute and soft. She just wanted to cuddle again. On the roof it was really nice and she thought it would be even nicer on a bed.
“Yeah, sure.” Harry liked her clingy. She was lovely this way. Being high made her ask for things she wanted, apparently and that was good for his sake. He immediately was met as a cuddly Y/N when he moved closer to her, letting her curl up next to him. Harry was feeling things out but he was curious to know what she liked. What she would want to do if they continued hanging out. 
“How do you feel? Both being high and hanging out with me?” He wanted to show her how it felt to have a true friend. Someone who treated her nicely. That oui oui baguette boy obviously didn’t treat her how she needed to be treated. “You want to be friends with me, right? Cause we could do this shit all the time. I smoke with Zayn and Niall but they’re like, suuuuuper obnoxious with it.”
Y/N happily swooped her leg over Harry’s hip, her arm moving around his waist while her head rested on his chest. She sighed feeling finally comfortable, letting out slow and relaxed breaths as he spoke. 
“I feel... floaty. Like, I have no thoughts yet somehow I can form sentences? It’s strange, but very cool.” Y/N giggled and shifted her head so she could breath in his scent a bit better. “I do want to be friends with you, you’re really nice.” Y/N spoke honestly, “if you would rather smoke with me or just hang out, we can hang out whenever you want...” Now that she was high she wasn’t really thinking about how things came out, she was sort of just saying them and hoping for the best. “I’m hungry.” She mumbled, “but I’m also comfy.” Y/N huffed, making it out to be the biggest dilemma in human history. She sat up though, remembered they had gotten pizza and smiled when she saw it sitting over on the coffee table. “Harry! You’re a genius!” She smiled and went to grab his cheeks. She kissed him once and got up to go grab the box to bring over to them.
He was surprised at how quickly she had kissed him, scurrying over time the pizza box and coming back to him. It was amazing. Y/N was sitting there looking all sorts of innocent when she had just kissed him and not even thought twice about it. She was munching happily on the pizza and he took a piece as well, letting her get comfy as they sat up on the bed to eat. 
“I’m glad you want to hang out with me. I’m a cool guy sometimes, I think.” He had been told many a time that he was cool by his friends but it felt good to know she wanted to be around. 
“I think you’ll like my friends. They’re idiots but they mean well.” He did love his friends even when they were stupid. They went to parties together and mooched off of the free alcohol. “But I definitely don’t kiss my friends like I do with you. Nothin’ against them, they’re attractive but, I’m not into beer breath.”
Y/N did a little happy dance while she munched on her pizza, focusing on getting as much as she could into her belly because it seemed like she could swallow the whole earth. “You are a cool guy. The coolest. Everyone at school wants to be friends with you.” She said honestly, knowing the hot gossip. “But I win.” She giggled, taking a sip of her water that she had laying next to her. Y/N felt herself getting full but then again she did just finish her third slice. The cinnamon sticks were her next victims, she let out a moan at the taste. “Really? Well, I don’t really kiss anyone like I kiss you anyway so....” Y/N shrugged, basically saying that he was the only person she kissed with passion and desire. Yeah she kissed Timothée but kissing him was more of a chore now that their relationship was falling apart.
“Yeah? That's a good stroke to my ego.” He did like knowing Y/N was happy with kissing him like that. He couldn’t help but be a bit proud of that. “You’re a great kisser. But if you keep moaning like that I’m gonna be tempted to bend you over.” His threat was lazy but he would happily play with her again. He wasn’t sure about fucking her. He didn’t want her to regret it. But she had the best ass and beautiful tits and he wanted to see her naked. “What? Don’t look shocked. You’re makin’ me hard with that moaning over food. You’ve got a sexy as fuck voice. I like Hearing it. Plus, I’m already attracted to you and know what your pussy tastes like so the weed isn’t helping my cock.”
“Well, I am a bit shocked.” Y/N chuckled, “Didn’t realize I was doing anything.” She blushed, putting the cinnamon sticks down because now they were getting into some serious talk. “I like when you talk like that..” Y/N told him, smoothing over her skirt a bit to try and distract herself but it definitely wasn’t working. The weed was definitely giving her a bit of confidence, mostly because her anxiety was shut off and she was just speaking freely. Of course, she still had that sweet innocence to her, that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tired. “Obviously haven’t done anything except for what we did the other day so... know I’m not exactly the sexiest.” She chuckled and looked up at him. She was aware of some of the different things you could do during sex but she wasn’t one to research. It made her feel gross watching other people, most because she didn’t find the men attractive and that was kind of the most important part.
“You’re sexy. Don’t say that about yourself cause you 100% are incredibly sexy.” Harry stopped that right away. He didn’t like her thinking that she was anything but a sexy little thing. “I love your innocence but... trust me. The used panties I came all over prove that you’re hot as fuck. You’ve got a dirty side. Just haven’t tapped into it yet.” He hummed. “I’m glad to know that you like me talking like that. You’ll be happy to know that I am willing to teach you or talk to you about anything you’d want to know, including sex. That much I am a very hands on teacher.” He wiggled his brows to make her laugh. “Do you wanna know somethin?” He asked. When he got the curious look he continued. “I couldn’t stop staring at your ass the other day. When you wore leggings. You stood right in front of the tree my friends and I stand outside of. You got excited and jumped a bit and your ass jiggled. When I tell you I was half hard the rest of the day...” He really was. “You’ve got the best ass. M’obsessed.”
“Really?” Y/N was intrigued. Did he really want to teach her about sex? Would he show her things and make her feel the way she felt the other day? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up at all. “Not turned off by how I don’t know stuff?” She asked with furrowed brows, it was always something she was insecure about. “I know literally nothing though... I don’t really like watching porn it makes me feel gross.” His little story about her ass though? That made her rather excited. She had worn leggings because she had gym that day, thinking that her shirt would cover enough of her ass but clearly it didn’t. Not that she really cared because it was Harry who was looking. “Usually when I wear leggings I don’t wear underwear.” She said mindlessly as she took a sip of her water. “Is that something you like then? Are you like.. a butt guy?” She asked curiously, wanting to know more about what he liked. “I know you... you have a lot of sex, yeah?” Y/N asked with a blush, feeling like she’d get jealous if he answered.
“You weren’t wearing anything under them?” Harry felt his body want to explode. “Just walkin’ about with  no panties and.. fuck me.” That was unfair. Cruel, really. He didn’t have his hands on her that day, and he would think of it every day forward. “I am an ass guy. I love tits too, don’t get me wrong but... there’s something about ass I love. But— I mean, I don’t have a ton, no. It depends. S’like an itch. If I need to scratch it, I will.” He could tell she would be disgruntled if he told her about his sexual escapades. “I know enough to teach you stuff. Whatever you’d want to learn. I’m not too shy of a guy when it comes to that stuff so you can ask me whatever you want. As long as you don’t mind me being dirty mouthed when I talk.” Harry got off on words. So knowing she was interested in asking things? He loved that.
“How often do you have an itch?” Y/N asked, raising her brow at him. Y/N did want to know, part of her did even if she would get a bit pissy about it. She had no reason to be territorial, but she just wanted to be the only girl he went to when he did have an itch. Y/N liked whatever they did the other day, no one had ever made her feel like that. She felt so sexy and beautiful and good. “I don’t mind.” Y/N shrugged, moving closer to him to get comfortable again. “It’s hot in here.” She sighed, getting up off the bed so she could take off her little corduroy dress. It still wasn’t enough though so she simply stayed in her little white socks with a laced rim and her set of underwear that had the cute red hearts on it. She slid back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, “okay so like.. what do you like to do most then? Obviously there’s the actual sex but like, describe your fantasy. Mine happened the other day so honestly everything’s sort of free game now.”
“I swear to god, you’re my wet dream.” Harry closed his eyes as he tried to center himself. “Jesus... look at you.” He muttered, rolling his eyes over her body. “Love this shit. You’re not trying to be sexy, you just are.” His finger ran over the waistband of the panties on her hip before pulling back. “I like.. well, I love anal. Of course I love pussy, specifically the idea of cumming in one. But I haven’t done that yet. M’not into the idea of knocking up someone random but. I can’t lie and say that it isn’t something that’s hot to me. The idea of like... owning someone like that. A part of me in them. It’s hot but a lot of girls would think I’m actually trying time get them pregnant.” He rolled his eyes. “But I love dirty talk. have a filthy mouth and I know you’re aware of it.” He laughed quietly, pinching his bottom lip. “But yeah, I like eating pussy. Obviously. I like dirty shit, but anal is definitely something I love. Think it’s cause it’s a bit wrong in some people’s eyes. And ass is tight as fuck.” His eyes took in her curves. Yeah. Her ass would be the tightest. It’s never been touched. “What do you mean... your fantasy was the other day?”
Y/N was pleased that he liked her little set, “I did wear it for you in all fairness.” She shrugged a bit and flipped over so she was laying on her stomach, looking over at him while she rested on her elbows. Definitely so she could have her ass up and her tits on display. That was a subconscious choice though. “Never even touched my butt in that way before.” Y/N spoke innocently, “does it feel good?” She asked, genuinely curious. Everyone has an ass so of course maybe he’d know how it felt. “Oh, I’ve like... I’ve thought about what happened the other day a lot. Like, sitting in your lap and having you touch me like that and stuff... really like your hands, I think about them a lot too. And your lips, they’re like perfectly plump.” Y/N didn’t realize he didn’t know she had a crush on him. Her high brain assumed she’d told him.
“It does, but you’ve got to work slowly if you’ve never done it before. Some people like pain so they don’t work themselves open before but I always say that you should... ya know, get fingered or licked out back there and make yourself relax.” He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t touched back there though. “I’m interested to know... you’ve thought about me before? I didn’t know this. I didn’t think you realized I existed much.” He raised a brow, eying her ass. He moved a hand down to rest it on her lower back, playing with her panties. “My hands? That’s interesting. I’m just shocked you knew me. Let alone had those thoughts about me. Wow... that’s fucking cute.” He grinned. “What else did you think about me doing to you?”
Y/N looked away from him bashfully, simply letting him touch her however he wanted to. She really liked his forwardness, it got her going. “Yeah... I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.” Y/N admitted, playing with her hands. “Thought about you a lot, cause like... you’re what I wanted timmy to be like.” High Y/N clearly spoke freely. Y/N had to think about his next question because in all honesty, she didn’t really know. “I haven’t really thought about anything else like that, just the basic stuff... I don’t know about all of the other things, I know lots of people are into different things.” Kinks, she was talking about kinks. “Is there anything like that that you like? Like— stuff that when you think about it you get all gooey inside? Or sometimes it makes you feel really alert and squirmy?” Y/N asked, remembering how often she’d see him and get that way. “Always liked seeing you skate and stuff, like your jaw gets all clenched and you look kind of angry... liked how big and ruff your hands are... and your arms they’re nice too.”
“Yeah... I like some stuff.” Harry coughed. Fuck, he was gonna tell her too. He was liking the honesty between them as well, knowing she was happy to blurt out shit like how she liked his hands and arms and when he got angry. “Kinks... there’s a lot of things I like to try. I don’t think they count as kinks but I do enjoy spanking. Like, I’d kill to spank your ass. See my handprint on it. I like kinda rough stuff. Don’t let this scare you though cause— we don’t have to.” He warned her. It wasn’t intense stuff but he was aware she was a complete virgin. He didn’t want to scare her off. “Like... choking a little. Hair pulling. Spit exchange. I loved when you squirted on me, it was messy and hot and that shit gets me off. S’why I came so fast.” He murmured. “Also would love to try overstimulation on someone. Make ‘em cum as many times as they can take. Toys. I have a few I’d like to buy but I don’t have people who come round to fuck. I wouldn’t do it at home with a rando. so... you’re definitely special.” He laughed. His hand was sneaking lower. “Mm, I love a bit of power exchange. And I like to be called Daddy. Fuckin hot.”
Y/N was very intrigued, her pupils likely blown out by the idea of Harry doing all these things to her. If he liked that kind of stuff, she’d definitely try it, because the other day she felt so good. 
“The other day you made me cum like three times and it hurt but like.. it felt good?” She explained, “think I like pain though.” That would explain why she liked the concept of him spanking her so much. She liked the idea of being someone special for him. If he wanted to try stuff with her he could, she just wanted to be adored. It was then, when he told her he liked being called daddy that she felt herself whimper. She was getting really horny just talking about all of this stuff, but she was mostly curious about the ass stuff. So, she decided to be bold because the weed was giving her a new found confidence in her relaxed self. Y/N looked at him for a moment, feeling his hand resting on her ass. She moved it up against his hand and let out another little whine.
“Daddy? Can you play with my bum please?”’
Well, fuck. That was something. Something Harry really, really wanted to do. 
“Christ...yeah, I can do that.” He whispered, happy that she was as into this as he was. Because— he definitely was. He moved, rounding her body so he could get the perfect view, the perfect angle so he could touch. He groaned when she stuck it into the air for him, swaying back and forth. She was trying to tempt him, and it was working. He gripped her hips before pulling her towards him, letting out a breath as he took it in. “Fuck me. You've got... the perfect ass.” He whispered, running his hand over it. Pulling the panties up so they were right on her , shaking them a bit before letting them go. “You... are so much trouble, little thing. Aren’t you? Gonna drive me mad.. walkin’ round in leggings with no panties on. Daddy’s gonna have to grab you and play with you next time I see you in them to check.” He muttered, beginning to peel them down. “Fuck, you’re soaked again.” He could see the wetness still stringing to the panties and he used a finger to catch some of it, licking it clean.
It was becoming clear that Y/N was less shy when she was horny. It was the one this she wasn’t afraid of asking for, especially after having that whole conversation with him. She liked knowing what he liked, now she could bring it up if she ever wanted him to touch her. She let out a pleased squeal when he pulled her towards him by the hips, leaning down when her knees brand so her ass could be as high up as possible. Y/N pulled a pillow down so she could rest her head on it and look back at him. She moaned at the idea of him pulling her away at school to mess with her. 
“You always make me messy, daddy.” She told him, lifting her legs so he could pull her panties all the way off. Her cunt was needy, absolutely so, but she was intrigued by the idea of ass play. He seemed to be really into it too so she wanted to see him get all excited about it. “Can spank me if you want..” She gave him the go ahead, “Wanna try everything..”
He didn’t take a second chance. His hand came down, firmly on her ass. The panties off, he could see the skin jiggle under his hand and the pink mark begin to show, her squeal doing more to arouse him. Obviously she liked it, so he did it to the second cheek. 
“Naughty little girl. Hm. You like daddy’s hands spanking you.” Harry said with pleasure. “So gorgeous.” He rolled it in his hands, squeezing hard on the freshly spanked skin to watch her writhe a little bit. “So you’re dirty like me then.” He hummed, grabbing at her and gently pulling her legs apart. “Let’s see that pretty hole.” Of course it was pretty. Never been touched, small. He was going to wreck it. Even if it wasn’t today. “Fuck. M’gonna fuck this hole if it’s the last damn thing I do. Fuck me.” He leaned over and spit thickly on to it, thumb rubbing gently over it in circles. Letting her get a feel for it.
Y/N liked it. She liked it a lot and it scared her because she was unlocking something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. That was a problem for sober and none feral Y/N to face, right now she was too busy loving every second of it. 
“Mmmmmmm” a long whine came from her as he rolled it in his hand, hands gripping at the pillow. Her legs spread with ease, her eyes closing as she relaxed the best she could. Y/N felt her cunt throb at his words, hearing him spit and feeling it drip down made her go absolutely insane. “Daaaaddyyyyy!” She whined, moving her ass back against his working thumb. Y/N was learning that she was also very impatient. Her cunt was in desperate need of attention and the thumb on her ass was only getting her more worked up. Thank god she’d showered before coming here and she was clean as a whistle.
“That sounds good coming from your mouth.” Harry whispered as his fingers ran over her ass. It was fine now to play with her. Y/N was a needy girl and he was finding this out day by day. “M’gonna play with you. Just lay and take it.” He settles and ran his tongue right on her hole. He knew she had never had this before so he wasn’t surprised when she jolted, but he simply spread her legs open again and took another lick. It was lovely. Not only because Harry genuinely liked eating ass but Y/N squealed, body squirming a bit with each lick. She was mouthy too, saying little babbles of how odd but good it felt.
Just lay and take it.
Oh my did Y/N like the sound of that. The feeling of him licking at her ass was different than when he ate her cunt. It was definitely pleasurable but not the same. Y/N didn’t think she could cum like this, but then again, he hasn’t exactly put his fingers in or anything. 
“Feels nice..” She hummed as she got used to it, hands tightening around the pillow. My god what was she doing? She had a boyfriend for fucks sake but this felt so damn good. Y/N couldn’t stop seeing Harry after this whole project thing ended. She needed to do this again, wanted to do this all again. It really couldn’t be anyone but him. He did say he was going to play with her, what else could be in store? “Ah! Daddy!” Y/N squeaked, feeling him poke his tongue inside. Tingles spread through her at the feeling, it did feel really good. It was then that she felt him press his thumb into her, her ass tightening around his finger. It was so unfamiliar, but she knew she just had to relax. 
“There we go. Not gonna do too much today work this. Gonna finger you and let you feel it, see the pleasure.” And then eat her out and cum on her ass. It sounded like a good plan. He slowly worked his thumb into her, moving down and licking from clit to her entrance. His thumb worked at her hole, giving her an abundance of sensations. “Hm. Maybe I’ll get a little vibrator and we can put it in your ass while I lick your little pussy. How’s that?” He asked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to stop doing this for a while. He was teaching her all about it now and he wasn’t going to stop. Not now. “Mm. Tastes so fucking good.” He took his thumb out, working in a longer finger. He wanted to fuck her ass with it while he licked at her pussy. “Feels nice too, hm? Havin’ me touch you everywhere?”
She whimpered at his offer, “please daddy..” Y/N pleaded all huffy and needy from the sensations. She was feeling him everywhere... it was making her go a bit crazy, especially because it seemed like an insane amount of teasing. It all felt really good, her whole body was feeling the waves of pleasure and all she could do was lay there and take it like he said. 
“Like it so much, daddy... I want to feel more of you..” Y/N knew he would only give her little bits of newness each time, but she really wanted to feel like one with him. She wanted to feel him properly, look him in the eyes and have him make her scream for him like he had before. Y/N was a whiny horny mess all over again, Harry having unlocked pleasures that she didn’t even know existed before today. “So good to me, make me feel so good..” She wished she could thank him in some way, help him out but he was insistent on showing her stuff.
He had made her cum 3 times again. They were even bigger than before and she had in fact squirted again but he loved it. After cleaning up, he had her lazy, fucked out and high body laying on him as he relaxed. 
“We’re gonna be good friends.” He hummed. Part of him was worried though. Because very quickly he was feeling a bit of a want for her. One where he could kiss her anytime he wanted but, she still was technically in a relationship. Regardless if he treated her shitty, it was still a title and he didn’t know how to ask her if she was going to break up with him. Did he even want a relationship? Would she want a relationship with him? Was he just a bad boy fantasy? 
Regardless, it didn’t matter. Y/N was going to be his friend.
She pressed soft kisses to his chest, relaxing he had yet to get shirtless or naked for her. It was always her. But maybe that’s just how he wanted to keep things. On a friend level. 
“Mhm...” Y/N hummed and again nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin. “Thank you again...” She spoke just below his ear. “You me feel special.” Y/N was positive he was an angel sent to her. He truly made her feel like she was some heavenly being, made her reach highs she’d never felt and helped her let go of all the things that have her anxiety. She didn’t know how she could possibly thank him for it, but she would somehow. It wasn’t going to be hard to keep this from Timmy considering he barely hung out with her anymore, but she was going on a date with him sometime next week like he promised. She needed to talk to him, ask him about them and how he felt about them and why they weren’t having sex. She needed to get to the bottom of it.
The weird thing was, Y/N made Harry feel special too. And that scared him a little bit. It was difficult to get Harry to the point where he felt a deep connection with someone because he did fear a betrayal. Granted, he was the one helping her with a betrayal of someone else but... it felt so different. With the girls he slept with before, it was clear cut that it was only one night and it didn’t mean anything besides scratching an itch. He couldn’t say that about Y/N. He cared about her. Even more so finding out she had had a crush on him. It would hurt her more if he was a dick. She was sensitive emotionally and Harry was mindful of that. But he didn’t want to get attached when she already seemed attached to Timmy. He would have broken up with him by now if he was in her position. He wondered why it was taking so long. But either way— he wasn’t going to sleep with her fully until she was single. Just in case.
-------------------------------------------
[part 3]
A/N: the saga continues.... they really do get bold - n + d
let us know what you think!
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datleggy · 4 years ago
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Totally random thought I had right as I am going to bed but ya know that show "I didn't know I was pregnant"? Buck would be on that show lol the boy is oblivious when it comes to his own body, so like I can perfectly picture him collapsing on the job one day wracked with pain, and then Hen is poking around his stomach where it hurts, her, Buck and Eddie packed into the back of the ambulance as Chim and Bobby drive to the hospital, and she gets out the stethoscope to try and listen for internal bleeding or anything but instead finds an infant heartrate and she's like "Buck, you're pregnant?" And he's like "uh, no? What the hell?" And then his water breaks and he tries to convince hen and Eddie that he had an accident bc even that would be a better alternative to suddenly figuring out he's about to have a baby???? What the fuck???? But Eddie holds his hand all the way through it and by the time they get to the hospital, Buck has a healthy newborn cradled against his chest, Eddie knelt beside him and alternating between kissing buck and the baby on the head, and observing the baby in disbelief. I can also picture Buck like, sobbing his sorry's to Eddie the entire time he's pushing, like "Eddie I swear I had no idea, if I had known, I would have told you!" And Eddie is just reassuring him the entire time like "don't worry about that now, Buck, just concentrate. No one is mad, okay? But you gotta focus on the- on the baby" and buck just sobs and nods and focuses on the delivery again. But for a good while Buck is in denial that any of this is happening and it takes a lot of convincing and encouragement from both hen and Eddie for him to start actively participating in his baby's birth. Anyways, random half asleep thought is finished sorry for the long ask hdshsjjsjdbsjsj
WELL SHIT ok so i actually love that show and i could see buck doing this lmao so i wrote a thing. also ignore all medical inaccuracies, this is my distraction from monday lmao let me have this wildly inept fic pls. 
also just in case, it’s pretty brief, i think, but TW for talk of weight and weight gain
It's nearing the end of their shift now and Buck can almost hear his feet howling at him in pain. Today hadn't even really been all that busy, he thinks, annoyed at his own body's betrayal. He's not even thirty yet, but in the last couple of months he's felt as though he's aged about ten years.
He's put on a few pounds, which isn't too uncommon, sometimes Buck goes through stretches of time where he eats more carbs than he needs and works out less than he'd like and so a little tummy fat is to be expected.
It normally doesn't bother him, except that in the last maybe three months he hasn't felt like exercising much outside of work but he's eaten nearly everything in sight every night. He's up about fifteen pounds, which he wouldn't have even noticed, seeing that he does fluctuate at times anywhere between five to eight pounds over or under what he usually weighs, if it hadn't been for Chimney teasing him about putting down his third Krispy Kreme donut of the day and picking up a barbell earlier this morning.
Chim and Buck poke fun at each other all the time--it's a staple in their friendship and brother ship, in fact--and Buck had flipped him the bird, nothing new there. What had been new was the fact that he'd excused himself to the bathroom right after that and locked himself in a stall and bawled his eyes out as quietly as humanly possible.
Buck grimaces, embarrassed still, by the outburst, even if no one had been there to witness it. He still has no idea what the hell that had been about this morning.
Eddie notices the sour mood and pulls him in close. "Hey, you ok?"
Buck nods. "Yeah, just tired. Ready to go home--shit." Buck feels a shooting pain so intense his knees buckle and Eddie has to hold him upright to keep him from hitting the floor. 
“Woah!” Eddie calls Bobby over, who’s closest, for help, “Buck? Buck, you with me? What’s wrong? What hurts?” 
Buck just shakes his head and grits his teeth, the pain so debilitating he can hardly breathe much less speak. 
The Captain is on his other side in an instant and together Eddie and Bobby help Buck towards the couch, where he collapses in a heap, throwing his head back and letting out an agonized whine. “What’s going on? Did he get hurt during one of the calls?” Bobby asks Eddie, frantic to help put a stop to this. 
Eddie’s helpless, “Bobby I don’t know, one second we were talking about going home and the next he practically fell to the floor in pain.” he turns to face his husband, “Baby, I’m here, look at me, what’s the matter? What hurts?” 
Buck’s face scrunches up and he finally exhales sharply, his grip on the couch cushions loosening, and he opens his eyes, wide like saucers, and says, “What the fuck was that?” 
At this point Hen and Chim, as well as half the crew, have gathered around and Hen is quick to put on her doctors hat and try to sus out the problem. She makes Bobby step aside and Chimney hands her a stethoscope. “Buck, is it your stomach?” she asks, noticing the stiff way he’s holding himself around his midriff. 
“I don’t--kinda? I don’t know. It was just like, this crazy wave of pain, almost like a cramp, but way worse.” he struggles to describe the feeling now that it’s more or less passed for the time being.  
Hen had seen Buck wince when he’d been in the harness on the last call of the day, but he hadn’t said anything and she hadn’t thought too much about it until now. “Did you hurt yourself in the harness earlier? Maybe pulled something when we reeled you back up?” she asks, palpitating his stomach with her fingers, watching him almost retract from her touch. 
“Maybe?” Buck shrugs uncomfortably, wincing when she hits a particularly sore spot. 
Something about this feels familiar and strangely obvious, but Hen doesn’t understand why until she puts her stethoscope up to his belly to check for lack of bowel sounds, indicating maybe some internal bleeding or sorts. 
Hen gasps out loud and sits up like she’s been smacked. 
Eddie frowns. “What? What’s wrong? Is he gonna be ok?” He almost wants to snatch the damn stethoscope out of her ears and check for himself, his eyes darting between Hen and Buck nervously. 
“Buck, you’re pregnant. And in labor, by the sounds of it.” Hen blurts out in disbelief. 
“What.” Buck blinks at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This has to be a joke. 
“I heard a heartbeat in there...” Hen informs them, still awed. “Buck, that was a contraction you just experienced.” 
Eddie gapes at Hen and then at Buck. “You’re pregnant?” 
Buck gapes right back at him. “No!” he denies, shaking his head incredulously. “That’s insane, I can’t be pregn--ah--” Buck leans forward in pain as another contraction begins. “Fuck.” 
“Jesus, yeah, no you’re definitely pregnant,” Chim announces, “Your water just broke all over my favorite couch, bud. I’m getting the ambulance ready asap.” he says, before running to do just that, head reeling. He thinks about Maddie and when she gave birth to their daughter and how scared out of his mind he’d been and he sympathizes for Buck and Eddie, who up until now apparently hadn’t even realizes they were expecting... 
Back at the lounge Buck continues to deny any of this is even happening. He whines into Eddie’s chest, “That’s pee, it has to be, because I’m not pregnant. There’s no way.” he lets out a pitiful whimper as another contraction begins and buries his face against his husband to hide the tears springing up in his eyes. 
“Buck, son, we gotta get you to a hospital right now.” Bobby tries, running a soothing hand over the top of his head. 
But Buck shakes his head no, shuddering out a sob. “M’not going.” 
Eddie, overwhelmed, looks to Hen and Bobby for help. 
“Buck, ambulance is ready to go, we need to move unless you wanna have this kid at the firehouse.” Hen grimaces. “I know you’re in pain and I know you’re confused and hurting, but we need to get you into that ambulance and now.” 
Buck cries out when another contraction hits him and Hen gulps. “Your contractions are getting way too close together, we need to move.” she nods at her Captain and Eddie to help get Buck up and together the three of them manage to get Buck onto a gurney and into the waiting ambulance.
Bobby rides up front with Chimney, leaving Hen and Eddie to work in the back with Buck. 
“Buck, you need to start getting ready to push, this baby’s coming.” Hen warns him, but Buck refuses. 
“I can’t.” he sobs. “I didn’t--” he throws his head back, the pain lighting his nerves on fire. “I swear Eddie, I didn’t know. You gotta believe me.”
Eddie takes Bucks hand into his and brings it up to his lips. “I know baby, I know, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise. Nobody is mad at you, ok? I’m not. But right now you need to focus on pushing, you need to listen to Hen, ok? We’re ok, and you’re gonna be ok, but I need you to push, baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?” 
Buck lets Eddie wipe away his tears, leans into the comforting touch, and nods shakily, exhaling. “O-ok, I’m--I’m ready.” 
.
.
.
**************
.
.
.
The baby is so very tiny in Eddie’s arms. 
Olive Buckley-Diaz is born weighing exactly six pounds and two ounces. 
Christopher, who’s curled up against Bucks side on the hospital bed after a very exhausting day, looks up at his Buck, his little brow still knitted in confusion. “So she was a surprise baby? And that’s how come you guys didn’t tell me about her?” 
Buck tries not to laugh. “Yeah bud, it was a huge surprise to us, too.” 
Eddie nods along, smiling fondly down at the bundle he’s holding. Her blotchy red face is slack in sleep and there’s already tufts of brown hair sticking up funnily on her head under her hat. “I still can’t believe you only gained like fifteen pounds during the whole pregnancy.” Eddie chuckles, “Or that you worked through the nine months, God Buck, when I think of the stunts you pulled during calls in the last few months alone I’m--” he shudders. “Actually I’d rather not think about it.” he sighs, “I’m just happy you’re both healthy at the end of the day.” 
Really, it’s a miracle. The doctor had said as much after the delivery. 
“To be fair I never got any of the other symptoms,” Buck shrugs. “I wasn’t nauseous, my feet never swelled, I don’t remember any weird cravings? And you said it yourself, I didn’t really gain all that much weight.” 
Eddie leans down to kiss Buck’s forehead. “You should be on that show.” he grins. 
Buck tilts his head. 
“You know the one, the one Hen made us watch when work was slow that one time. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant’.” he teases. 
Buck groans. “I regret all the jokes I made at the time. I totally get those people now. Pregnancy is weird.” 
Christopher rests his head more comfortably against Bucks chest and smiles softly. “Yeah, but now our family’s even bigger.” 
.
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bothcreativitybois · 3 years ago
Text
Schedules
This is a fic I wrote as a gift for @star-crossed-shipper I don’t usually write analogical stuff so I hope this pleases you all.  Wordcount: 5633 Ship: Analogical TWs: Swearing, panic attacks, sexual refrences, hyperfocusing, isolating.   Taglist (ask to be added): @crazydemigod666 @newtnotfound 
Everything was running like clockwork. Wake up at seven am, personal grooming until seven twenty, head downstairs to make coffee, give Patton his muffin and hot chocolate at seven thirty three, make two eggs and a slice of toast with Crofters at seven thirty five, Roman’s grand entrance at seven forty, eat breakfast at seven forty five. It was now seven fifty, he had another three minutes to finish his breakfast. Then two minutes to rinse his plate. Everything had it’s time, everything fit into his neat little schedule. “Good morning, Pierce The Virge.” Roman announced from the kitchen as he mixed his tea. Logan swerved in his stool. Nearly everything fit in his schedule. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your face before noon?” Virgil was never awake this early. Then again Virgil had no schedule. Everyone else had one, even if they didn’t realise, and Logan had mapped them to fit his own. But Virgil just… did things. Virgil grumbled something and stole the toast off of Logan’s plate. “Hey!” Logan protested. “Your brother’s being loud in my room.” Virgil answered Roman. Logan noticed Virgil wasn’t wearing his usual jacket. Maybe Virgil was who he had heard in the laundry last night? Virgil took a bite of the toast. Logan stood up with his plate and walked around the counter to the kitchen. “That would be because I vanquished him from Patton’s room.” Roman said. He and Virgil were blocking the sink. He needed to rinse his plate but they were talking in his way. It would be rude to interrupt their conversation. Logan put a hand on the small of Virgil’s back to try and communicate that he needed to get past. Virgil jumped at the sudden touch and looked back. He caught Logan’s eyes and his face flushed. Logan wasn’t usually the touchy type. “Excuse me.” Logan said. His voice was still tired and a little rough, it made Virgil’s heart skip a little and his mind raced. Logan noticed the edge of Virgil’s make-up began to sparkle. “Hey! Wheezer! You paying attention?” Roman said, snapping Virgil back to reality. Roman pulled Virgil out of the way so Logan could get past. “Thank you, Roman.” Logan said. His head felt weird, it was lighter. Almost dizzy. Was he dehydrated? Virgil dropped his stolen toast and ran from the room. “Virgil?” Patton tried as Virgil ran. He didn’t stop. Logan ignored what happened and rinsed his plate like he intended. Roman and Patton looked at him in disbelief. “That wasn’t very nice, Logan.” Patton said. Logan put down the plate and checked his watch. “I don’t believe I did anything rude.” Logan replied. “They were talking and I needed to get past so I used a non-verbal gesture so as to not interrupt.” Roman rolled his eyes, Patton sighed. “Yes but people may not like you touching them without warning. Especially Virgil since he has a crush-” Roman jumped across the counter and put a hand over Patton’s mouth. “Crushing amount of social anxiety!” Roman finished. Patton looked at Roman and nodded furiously. That was unusual. “Yes well I thought it would be more rude to interrupt the conversation to tell him he was in the way. I believe I did what was most socially acceptable.” Logan said. “Besides his make-up sparkled which usually only happens when he is excited so it couldn’t have been too intrusive.” Roman and Patton looked at eachother flatly. Logan was so smart yet so damn clueless. Patton gently removed Roman’s hand from his face. “Still it may be best to apologise.” Patton suggested. “You know, for good measure?” Logan gazed up at the stairs, there was a tingling sensation in his stomach. He was sure he’d cooked the eggs thoroughly. Was this connected to the dizziness? He looked back down at his watch. The minute ticked over. “I cannot.” Logan said and began walking out of the kitchen. Roman and Patton began whispering to each other. “Why?” Roman asked as Logan began climbing the stairs. “I have a schedule to keep.”
After being startled Virgil had run back to his room out of habit. He slammed the door shut and sat against it, holding his head. He mumbled incoherently to himself. Unfortunately he’d forgotten the mustached menace in the room. “Really I’m giving you my best here but you’re scared when you leave the room?” Remus pouted. Virgil looked up in shock. Remus knew that look. “A panic attack? I really have been bested.” Virgil looked back down. “Not now, Remus.” He mumbled. Remus slinked over curiously. “Who was it?” Remus asked. Virgil tried to push him away weakly but couldn’t. “Was it my brother? No he’s way too weak.” “Go away!” Virgil curled up tighter. “It obviously wasn’t Daddy Patty.” Remus continued. “It could’ve been Janny but I doubt he’s out of the bath yet. Did you see Scales’ big ol’ trouser snake?” Remus lifted Virgil's head to get a reaction. “Get lost, Crap Face!” Virgil yelled as he pulled out of Remus’ grasp. That insult was weak even for Virgil. “Well then it must’ve been Dirty Nerdy.” Virgil’s head shot up, giving Remus his answer. “Ooh it was. Tell me what did he do? Did he tell you about the sun exploding? The chances of the earth being hit by an apocalyptic sized meteor?” Remus pressed. Virgil buried his head and tried to ignore him. Then Remus caught a glimpse of sparkle under Virgil’s eye. He smiled knowingly. “Or maybe he tried to kiss ya?”   “Stop!” Virgil’s voice echoed loudly. Remus knew he’d hit something with that. “So you wanna bone the teacher? I mean I guess I get it… if you’re into the nerdy emotionally cut off but goes off like a rocket in bed type.” Virgil began picturing it, he didn’t want to but he did. Why did Remus have to know just how to get to him? “No!” Virgil yelled. “Oh so I’m wrong? You don’t want him to kiss your neck? Or see his glasses fog up when you’re pinned to his wall?” Remus kept going. Virgil kept unwillingly picturing everything he said. “Go! Away!” Virgil struggled loudly. “Is it because you want to be in charge? You want to throw him on your bed. You want to pull him down by his tie so his face is between-” “Please stop!” Why was Virgil so embarrassed? “You want him on all fours begging for-” Out of everyone Remus was the least likely to judge him. “Fuck off!” It may be his chance to actually talk about it. “You want to bend him over your leg and-” Maybe it was best to let Remus win. “You’re right, Remus!” Virgil snapped finally. That was probably the first time anyone had ever said that. “I think Logan is hot! I want to kiss him! I want to cuddle! I even want to do… that too! I want Logan!” Remus smiled smugly. Virgil took a few deep breaths. “See? Was it really that hard to admit?” Remus teased. Virgil leaned his head back against the door. “Yes.” Virgil replied. “Logan doesn’t have feelings, or at least not the same way we do. And even if he did there’s no way he’d actually like me back. I’m… me.” Virgil felt hopeless. For pete's sake he was talking to Remus. “You aren’t completely unfuckable.” Remus said. It was actually kind of reassuring. “You definitely have the kinky ‘step on me goth boy’ appeal.” Well by Remus standards at least. Virgil smiled a little. “Thanks.” He replied genuinely. “Well I feel wanted here which means it’s my cue to leave.” Remus said standing. He opened the door, hitting Virgil. “Whatever.” Virgil stood and trodded over to his bed and flopped down. Remus looked back at Virgil. “Hey?” Remus said to get Virgil’s attention. He looked up slightly. “You think if Logan gets some he wouldn’t be such a stick up my ass anymore?”  Virgil threw a pillow at the door as Remus shut it.
Logan heard Remus in the hall as he worked. Maybe Remus would be able to help him with this. While he was messy and unproductive, this was a topic he’d sure like. Logan walked across the room and opened his door. “Remus.” Logan greeted leaning out the door. Remus turned quickly. “I haven’t even done anything yet. I’m just walking.” Remus replied. Logan rolled his eyes. “I believe your insight might be helpful to a problem I am trying to figure out.” Logan clarified. Remus groaned. “Do I have to?” Remus asked. “You don’t. But the problem is about illnesses and their symptoms so I figu-” Logan was nearly floored by the green blur rushing into his room. He looked in to see Remus sitting on his bed. Logan straightened his glasses and closed the door. “So who’s dying and how?” Remus asked. Logan took out a whiteboard and put it on a stand. He separated it into two sides. On the left he wrote ‘symptoms’ and the right ‘possible causes’. “Hopefully no one.” Logan began. “I believe I may have contracted something after our experiments last week in the imagination.” Logan wrote two symptoms on the board. Dizziness and unsettled stomach. Remus summoned a pair of thick fake glasses and slipped them on his face. He scratched his chin. “These seem pretty unexciting.” Remus said. “Anything else?” Logan took out a journal and flicked through the pages. He examined the logs from the days between when he and Remus experimented and now. “Yes.” Logan answered. Remus took the marker and got ready to write. “Five cases of tingling sensation in extremities. Each one seemingly isolated.” Remus added the list on the whiteboard. “Which parts?” Remus asked. Logan looked down then back up. “Be honest.” “Fingers, hands and toes.” Logan answered. Remus wrote one extra place. “Remus!” “If you won’t be honest I will!” Remus defended. Logan leaned over and wiped the crude word off. “I’ve also experienced temperature fluctuation.” Logan added. Remus wrote it and stepped back. “So far not really adding together.” Remus said. Logan looked over too. “Yes, I can’t see any connections either.” Logan commented then looked down again. “Well, are you sure that’s everything?” Remus tried to snatch away the book but Logan dodged. “I mean there’s some tachycardia I’ve been tracking but that’s been going on for longer than the figurative window. Same with some regular shortness of breath.” Logan added. Remus wrote that in the possible causes section. “That would only explain the dizziness and tingling. Maybe the fevers but that’s a long shot.” Remus nawed the marker, getting ink on his teeth. “But if you’ve been having those for longer than our experiment then it may be an underlying condition that’s only just rearing up.” Logan was actually impressed. He’d put the tachycardia and weak lungs down to stress and being generally unfit. “You… may have a point.” Logan admitted. “Maybe there’s something you missed further back? How long has this been going on?” Remus was suddenly serious. Logan thought that was impossible. He flipped through his logs. “The first time for the heart palpitations was a few months ago, I remember because it was the day when I got this new tie.” Logan explained. “What was happening when you got them?” Remus asked, tapping on the board slightly. “I don’t see how this is relevant?” Logan dodged the question. “Just indulge me.” Remus said. Logan sighed. “Uhm… it was while we were in a meeting with Thomas. Virgil had just shown us his new jacket.” Logan said. Remus lit up. He took off the glasses he was wearing and chewed on the arm. “And the shortness of breath?” Remus pressed. “Every morning before I walk down the stairs.” Logan informed. “And whose room is right there?” Remus quizzed.  Logan began to catch on too. “Virgil’s room.” They’d found the common factor. “The tingling?” Remus pressed. “When I’ve been handing or taking things from Virgil!” Logan was getting excited. So was Remus. They’d figured it out. Remus threw his glasses across the room. “You know what this means?!” Remus asked. “Yes!” Logan answered. “I’m allergic to whatever Virgil’s hooded jacket is made of.” “Yes! Wait no…” Remus dissaggreed. Clearly they’d come to very different conclusions. “There’s only one way to find out.” Logan said before sinking out. Remus stood there for a second. “Oh this is gonna be a disaster…” Remus laughed.
Logan rose back up in the laundry room. Virgil wasn’t wearing his jacket earlier and Logan had heard someone in there last night. Given that it was past the time everyone else went to sleep, and Remus is allergic to soap and therefore hates that room, there was only one person it could’ve been. Logan looked at his watch. He had time, Patton doesn’t do laundry for another fifteen minutes. He opened the dryer, thankfully Virgil hadn’t taken his stuff yet. He pulled out the mass of black clothes and threw them around looking for the jacket. He found it and pulled it out. “Ah ha!” Logan said to himself. He held the jacket at arms length, carefully. If his hypothesis was true then this was the cause of his problems. He looked at the jacket, hoping it would cause something to happen. Nothing did. He slowly pulled the jacket closer. “Come on…” he waited but still nothing. Surely this had to be close enough. He wasn’t getting much closer than this to Virgil. There was a catch in his throat with that thought. His eyes went wide. It was working. Logan brought the jacket to his face. This would surely get a result. He sniffed the jacket deeply. “What the hell?” A voice came from behind Logan. He pulled the jacket away and turned around, Virgil was in the doorway. Why couldn’t Virgil just run on a schedule? Logan’s face flushed and his breath stopped. He felt his head get dizzy. “It worked!” Logan announced. He shook the jacket. Virgil wasn’t sure what he’d just walked into. His clothes were all over the floor and Logan was excited about sniffing his hoodie? “What…?” Virgil managed. Logan shook the clothes off his feet and rushed over to Virgil. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil blushed. “I’ve been feeling weird and I went over my symptoms with Remus and we figured out I am allergic to your jacket!” Logan explained. He noticed Virgil’s pale cheeks had gone red. “Wait a minute.” Logan leaned forward, inspecting Virgil’s face. If Virgil was also allergic then maybe they all were. Maybe Thomas was. Virgil wasn’t sure what to do, Logan was so close. His whole chest was full of butterflies, some fluttering into his throat. Instincts took over, but this time it wasn’t flight. Virgil quickly leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Logan’s lips. Just a quick peck, but it was enough to make them both leap back. Like they’d been shocked by electricity. Logan dropped the jacket. Neither moved. Neither spoke. Virgil’s mind was running with anxiety and doubts, Logan was going over the symptoms again. He was feeling them all at once. It wasn’t the jacket. Suddenly a figurative lightbulb lit up. Fast heartbeat, raised temperature, short breath, lightheadedness, tingling, these were things Roman’s songs were about. This was… attraction. Virgil couldn’t believe he’d just done that, he didn’t even ask first. He was embarrassed. He was a terrible person. He’d pushed his feelings on to Logan selfishly. Virgil took off down the hall, covering his face. Logan was frozen for a moment then went after him. “Whoa watch it, Kiddo!” Patton shouted as Virgil pushed past him. Patton with his laundry, like clockwork. Patton looked forward to see Logan also barreling toward him. “Wha slow down!” Logan skidded to a stop in front of Patton. “Apologies.” Logan said breathlessly. Patton looked up at Logan then down the hall where Virgil had just run. “What happened?” Patton asked. Logan wasn’t sure how to answer. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to answer. He knew nothing about attraction. Or romance. He was clueless and he hated it. He looked down and saw Patton’s cat onesie hanging out of the washing basket. It gave him an idea. “Research….” Logan mumbled before running off. Patton was more confused than before.
Logan’s room was dark, a sign of just how focused he was. It was almost like the rest of the room didn’t exist. The only light was the bright double monitors illuminating Logan’s face harshly. Three books laid open against the screens. “That lighting is not flattering, dear.” Roman said to announce his presence. Logan didn’t look away from the screens. Roman took a few steps closer, he could see a few empty mugs and countless papers cluttering Logan’s desk. Logan himself was hunched deeply over his desk, scribbling furiously into a book. Roman put a cautious hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Hey Logan, you doing okay?” Logan’s head snapped backwards, only just realising Roman was in the room. “Perfect perfect Roman you are perfect.” Logan muttered at a nearly incoherent speed. Logan’s eyes were wide and tired, it scared Roman. He pulled himself away from them to examine what was on the screens. “Is that Crazy Rich Asians and… Eat, Pray, Love?” Roman asked. The movies were going fast, playing at double the speed. “Yes.” Logan answered hurriedly. “Well that can’t be a melodic mix- Wait you hate romantic movies.” Roman was confused. Everything about this situation was out of character for Logan. “I came to tell you Patton made breakfast but I fear I stumbled upon something worrying.” “It’s morning?” Logan asked quickly. Roman nodded. Logan thought for a moment. “I should raise it to 2.5 speed…” Logan grabbed his mouse and began adjusting the movies. Roman backed up slightly. “I don’t have a clue what is happening so I’m just gonna leave you to-” Roman began but Logan stood hurriedly and grabbed his arm. “No no no you’re just the person I need!” Logan said, pulling Roman back over. He picked up his notebook and shoved it towards Roman. “I have been isolating the root of romance. I am looking through every romantic book and movie and recording any recurring themes.” Roman couldn’t read the notes, both from the darkness and how messy they were. He looked past Logan back at the screens. “Is that my copy of Boyfriend Material?” Roman pushed past Logan and took the book off the desk. “Yes. And your copy of Fifty Shades Of Grey.” Logan added. Roman blushed. “Uh no… I uh that’s Remus’ clearly.” Roman stammered. “What was this about isolation and themes?” Logan handed the notebook to Roman and wiped his whiteboard clean. He drew a three circle venn diagram. “I have isolated three elements to a successful romantic coupling.” Logan began. He wrote the first element, vulnerability. “Vulnerability. I’ve noticed most courting at some point or another has someone, usually the male, do something embarrassing or risky. I believe this is what you refer to as ‘grand romantic gestures’, correct?” Logan waited for a response. “Well… I guess?” Roman answered. “But what is the poin-'' Logan wasn’t listening. “Second, sacrifice.” Logan wrote the word down in another bubble. “The relationship does not start until one or more people give something up. Usually something that causes figurative friction between them and the other person.” Roman had an objection. “That is a rather cynical way to-” Logan still wasn’t listening. “And finally.” Logan wrote the final element. “Desire. Shared attraction is key to the relationship becoming romantic. If it’s one-sided then everything will fail and the attracted subject will be subject to embarrassment and sadness. If there is no desire then… I mean they just don’t become romantic partners.” Logan finished by writing one final word in the overlapping sections, Romance.  Roman looked over the diagram closely. “May I ask a question?” Roman finally had the chance to speak. Logan made a gesture for him to continue. “Why the sudden interest in how romance works past, and I quote, ‘an uncontrollable and unfortunate chemical reaction’?” Logan’s face flushed although Roman couldn’t tell in the darkness. “I uh… Well I just think… You see…” Logan couldn’t find a way to answer. Roman rolled his eyes, Logan struggled with emotions and abstracts. He tried to rephrase. “Are you planning on being romantic with someone?” Roman gave a simple yes or no. Logan nodded. Now they were getting somewhere. “Has anything happened between you and this guy yet?” Roman was trying to figure out what exactly was happening. “Be more specific.” Logan said. “Has anything that you would classify as romantic happened between you and this guy?” Roman tried again. Logan’s face burned as he recalled the kiss. This time it was enough for Roman to see. He smiled. “Yes…” Logan answered. “Okay well may I suggest one change to your approach?” Roman asked. Logan held out the marker for him. Roman stepped forward and began rubbing off the diagram with his sleeve. Logan panicked and pulled him away. “Whoa wait what was that?” Logan asked, shocked. “Logan, listen to me.” Roman said and grabbed Logan’s arms. “You’re doing this wrong, and I bet you know it.” Logan pushed Roman off. “I don’t know what you mean.” Logan said. Why would he do this if he didn’t think it’d work? Roman clapped his hands and Logan’s lights turned on. “Look around.” Roman demanded, taking Logan’s shoulders again. In the light it looked so much worse. He could see every crumpled note, every coffee stain, every hastily scribbled note, every smudge on his glasses. “Does this look efficient or healthy?” Logan looked across at a mirror. He had dark bags under his eyes and his hair was akin to a bird's nest. “No…” Logan admitted. “But why else would I do this?” Logan’s voice was weak. Roman sat him down on his bed. “You’re confused would be my guess. You’re not used to strong emotions like this so you’re trying to turn them into statistics and formulas.” Logan held his head in his hands. He didn’t like this. Roman looked down softly. “And maybe you’re holding yourself up in your room to avoid Virgil.” Logan reeled back. He didn’t remember telling Roman who he was having romantic feelings for. “How…” Logan tried. “Virgil is also hiding, which isn’t unusual for him but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” Roman explained, sitting next to the other man. Logan fell onto his back. Roman was right, he was confused. This wasn’t his area of expertise, hell that was probably an understatement. “Roman… please help me.” Logan finally asked quietly. “You are the expert. In everything I’ve researched it’s shown as a natural instinct or a happy daze but… I’m not used to emotions I can’t control. It’s overwhelming. I can’t do anything about it.” Roman brought his legs up on the bed to face Logan. “Tell me exactly what happened.” Roman said. Logan covered his face and sighed. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. “I was looking at his face for symptoms of allergies and he kissed me then ran away.” Logan summarised. Roman ignored the first part about allergies, he wasn’t even going to ask. “Heh, I’m surprised he had the guts to make the move. I owe Patton five bucks.” Roman joked. Logan shot a hard glare. “Did you talk to Virgil about it?” Logan sat up with a huff. “No, we haven’t talked since that happened.” Logan clarified. Roman put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Honestly, what did I expect from you two?” Roman sighed. “Can you be serious please?” Logan begged. Roman put up his hands in surrender. “Listen, the solution is simple. Virgil kissed you because he has romantic feelings for you. And you have romantic feelings for him, correct?” Roman already knew the answer but waited for Logan to nod to continue. “So go tell him. Talk to him and be honest about how you feel and what you want.” Roman advised. He really had to explain the basics, huh? Logan looked over confused. “I don’t need flowers or like… fairy lights on a boat in front of the statue of liberty?” Logan asked genuinely. Roman laughed. “Romance isn’t as complicated as you’ve made yourself think it is. As long as you’re open and honest with him you’ll do fine.” Roman looked over Logan once more. “A nap and shower wouldn’t hurt your chances either…”  Roman stood up and collected the mugs from Logan’s desk. Logan began to lay down. “Thank you.” Logan said as Roman reached the door. Roman smiled back and flicked off the light. “For what it’s worth, I believe in you.” Roman said as he shut the door. Logan laid on his back, staring at the roof. His tired brain began planning the script for the coming conversation.
Virgil didn’t know just how long he’d been locked away, curled up in the heaviest fluffiest blanket he had. Loud music blasted through his headphones. His world was crumbling around him but he was paralyzed and couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew that reasonably he could just walk down the hall and talk to Logan, but his fear had tied him to his bed. Every worst case scenario danced around his room for him to watch helplessly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Maybe the Others would take him back? Maybe he could just disappear into the imagination? He could probably convince one of the twins to conjure him a nice replica of Sally's tower from Nightmare Before Christmas. A loud knock managed to just get through Virgil’s headphones. “Not now!” Virgil shouted weakly. He was too busy having a crisis to talk to anyone.Whoever it was knocked again. Virgil took off his headphones. “Go away!” He shouted with a bit more strength. “Virgil, it’s Logan.” The knocker announced. Virgil nearly fell off the bed, his chest which had felt hollow seconds before exploded with activity. He couldn’t speak. “We should talk.” Logan said after a minute. Possibilities rushed around quick enough to crack Virgil’s skull. He stood slowly and took a small step towards the door, still silent. “Virgil please, we should both have a chance to be honest about our feelings.” Logan’s stoic voice cracked. Virgil walked up to the door. He knew Logan was persistent, he wouldn’t give up. Virgil rested his head against the door. “I’m scared…” Virgil couldn’t manage any more than that. The doorknob turned and Virgil took a step back. Logan didn’t enter the room, just standing in the doorway. “I think I’m scared too…” Logan said weakly. Virgil looked across the room at his clock. “It’s four pm, shouldn’t you be reading?” Virgil said to try and lighten the mood, it worked as Logan laughed slightly. “Well I never really could fit you into my schedule...” Logan joked. “May I please enter?” Virgil took a step away, signalling for Logan to come in. Stepping across the threshold made it feel real, Logan realised just what he was about to do. Virgil shut the door and stood there awkwardly. Logan turned to face him. “I’m guessing this is about… y’know…” Virgil tried to avoid the word. Logan nodded. “You kissed me…” Logan finished. Virgil bristled at the bluntness. Neither knew what to do, they just stood there. “I’m sorry.” Virgil apologised. He wasn’t sure if it was for the kiss, or the awkwardness. Logan looked over at Virgil’s bed. “Perhaps it would be better if we made ourselves comfortable?” Logan said. Virgil nodded. They both awkwardly walked over, sitting down on opposite sides of the bed. They both stared at the wall across from them, scared to look at the other. Neither could speak. What were they meant to say? Thoughts and fears wrapped around Virgil’s brain, squeezing his brain to say something but nothing came out. Logan looked at Virgil and saw how scared he looked. He had to say something. “Do you think I’m attractive?” Logan asked quickly. Virgil’s head snapped to Logan, his face glowing red. How was he meant to answer that? Why was Logan so calm? Did Logan hate him? Logan hated him. He had ruined everything. He was a terrible person. Logan noticed Virgil’s breaths quicken, his eyes faded in and out of focus. Virgil rocked back and forth slightly, his thoughts couldn’t stop. Logan moved closer as Virgil began pulling at his bangs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Virgil repeated weakly. Logan put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, Virgil didn’t even notice the touch. “It’s okay.” Logan tried to reassure. “Focus on breathing.” Virgil couldn’t hear Logan, his thoughts were too loud. They were blocking out everything, he couldn’t escape. They curled around his throat and blocked out the air. They blocked his eyes in the form of hot stinging tears. They blocked his ears so he could only hear the darkness of his own mind. “I ruined everything. I’m sorry. Fuck.” Virgil kept muttering weakly. Logan got closer again. He pulled Virgil’s hand away from his head so he wasn’t pulling his hair. He put the hand against his chest. “Virgil, you didn’t ruin anything.” Logan tried to reason with Virgil but could barely scratch at his swirling thoughts. “Please try and breathe with me.” He just needed to get through. Virgil began scratching at his collarbone with the hand Logan wasn’t holding. Logan knelt in front of Virgil and grabbed his other hand, trying to stop any damage. “No no please no.” Virgil kept muttering through heavy breaths. Logan tried to get close enough for Virgil to see but not hit his head. “Virgil you can breathe, just breathe please.” Logan begged. Virgil shook his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t. Virgil began shaking his head more violently. Logan’s hands were already taken up. He let go of Virgil’s hands and opted to pull him down into a full embrace, pressing Virgil’s head against his shoulder with one hand and rubbing his back gently with the other. Virgil's arms stuck out weirdly for a moment before grabbing Logan’s shirt. He pulled at the fabric desperately. Not to try and escape but just to get hold of something. Virgil felt the gentle strokes on his back, the only thing that broke through the darkness. He tried to breathe with them. He had to. Logan noticed Virgil’s breaths become a little deeper, he realised he’d somehow gotten through. “Virgil, you're doing great. Keep going, please.” Logan’s voice was a little panicked even though he tried to stay stoic. Virgil kept timing the breaths with the strokes on his back. Slowly they became deeper, then less shaky. Slowly the darkness gave way to a light dizzy feeling from the lack of air. He stopped tugging at Logan’s shirt which was fully untucked at the back now. “I’m sorry…”  Virgil managed weakly, this time less of a worried mumble and more a real apology. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Logan said. Virgil pulled away from Logan, their legs stil knotted together but leaning instead on the bed so he could see Logan. His breaths still laboured. Logan grabbed Virgil’s hand. “I want us to be honest, please. Can you do that?” Logan asked. Virgil nodded slightly. “I will.” Virgil agreed. “But please don’t be mad at me.” Logan pushed some damp hair off Virgil’s face and nodded. Virgil nodded back. Logan thought carefully on what to say. “Can you tell me why you kissed me?” Logan asked. He wanted to know. Virgil did too. He looked away. “I don’t know.” Virgil answered after a beat. “You were close and I got flustered because… I really like you…” Virgil had finally admitted it. Logan’s heart felt weird. “You can ask me something.” Logan said. They both had things they wanted to know, it would be more efficient to take turns. Virgil thought for a moment. “Are you mad at me?” Virgil asked. Logan laughed lightly, he squeezed Virgil’s hand. “Not at all.” Logan reassured. “Did you enjoy kissing me?” Virgil squirmed. “I felt bad for not asking, and I was scared you would hate me.” Virgil answered. “Did you enjoy it?” Logan thought for a moment. It was a very quick kiss, but thinking about it made him smile. “I think I did.” Logan said. “It made me realise I have romantic feelings for you.” Virgil smiled slightly before covering his face with his arm, his chin resting on his knee. Logan felt himself blush. “Can I kiss you again?” Virgil asked quietly. Logan laughed. “I think it was my turn for a question…” Logan joked. He moved Virgil’s arm out of the way and rested his chin on Virgil’s knee too. Their noses touching and their eyes looking deeply into each other's. “Can you kiss me again?” Virgil closed the gap and pressed another quick kiss against Logan’s lips. Another sweet and light peck. They both smiled, absolutely giddy. Virgil put a hand on the back of Logan’s neck, making small circles with his thumb. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Virgil asked. Logan answered by leaning into another kiss, deeper than the last two. More hurried and warm. They stayed there until they were breathless. “I think I can fit that in my schedule.” Logan breathed happily as they pulled away. “You know I’m not going to stick to it.” Virgil said as he grabbed Logan’s tie, pulling him into another kiss. The world melted away around them, minutes ticked by carelessly. Maybe he didn’t need to schedule everything.
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littlekatleaf · 3 years ago
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The Dreams in Which I'm Dying
Well wtf, it's a new fandom for me. Unexpected! I started watching D/imension20 RPGs and fell in love with F/abian Seacaster and G/arthy O'Brien from F/antasy H/igh and P/irates of L/eviathan. This takes place 20 years after the events of the games.
And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad The dreams in which I’m dying Are the best I’ve ever had. ~ Tears for Fears, Mad World
It begins with nightmares - dark, heavy things Fabian doesn’t remember on waking. At least, not the first few nights. He’s left with nothing more than vague shadows and a lingering sense of unease. Everything seems wrong - his apartment simultaneously too big and claustrophobically small. He’s suffused with restlessness. He knows something’s coming, like a squall brewing just beyond the horizon. He might not be able to see the gathering clouds, but feels the barometric pressure plummeting.
At first he attempts to dance out of the way - to dodge and evade - but the dread wraps around him like his own battle sheet, tangling him tight. He tries to ignore the tension singing along his shoulders, the constant twist in his gut. It’s nothing, he tells himself, less than nothing. There’s no time for it to be something. Rumor has it the ship carrying one of the last pirates of the Crimson Claw will reach the mouth of Leviathan in mere days. If he’s going to meet it, he needs to pull together a party. Barely enough time remains to cement plans once he knows the group’s strengths and weaknesses.
As he paces his living room, trying to outrun the apprehension, Fabian’s eye is caught by a piece of red string, like Riz always used in his conspiracy boards. In that instant he longs for them. The Bad Kids. No matter how many years passed since any of them were kids, it’s still at the heart of who they are. (Isn’t it?) They fit together in their roles. Like that movie Kristen made them all watch once - a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess and a criminal. The others had bickered good naturedly over roles that night - specifically who was the basket case. Kristen joked it was Gilear. Ragh said it was her. Fabian didn't need to argue because he knew the truth - Riz was the brain, Gorgug the athlete, Adaine the princess, Fig the criminal, Kristen the saint. Himself the basket case. Even in all the intervening years, he’s never found a group that connects as well as they had, before they all went their separate ways. Even if they hadn’t lost touch, none of the others adventure anymore. In their absence he needs to choose alternatives, like he always does, attempting to fill the holes they left behind - and failing.
He picks up his crystal, turning it over in his hands. The group chat is saved, they are all still members, but no one has used it in years. Maybe he’s wrong; maybe he needs to let them go.
He knows there’s no time for self-indulgence. But he still stalls, the trepidation casting a fog of doubt over every option. He cannot decide on even one person to trust. Perhaps this time he should go alone. He can defeat one single pirate himself. The rest - crew and spoils alike - is irrelevant. The Maelstrom’s Maw will likely bring in the boat and then he can attack. He rubs his forehead against a growing headache and puts the decision off again.
Two nights pass, with only the lightest veil of sleep and even that torn by disquiet. The intervening days feel equally foggy with a mix of exhaustion and dread. Fabian drags himself through the necessary tasks by his fingernails until he’s done everything he can without a crew. A crew on which he still has not managed to settle. In the midst of circling the problem for the five hundredth, or five thousandth, time his crystal flashes an alert. The ship’s been sighted just a few nautical miles off Harroway Bay and will reach Leviathan before dawn. He’s waited too long, he realizes. It will be a solo adventure, then. Nothing else for it.
Fabian knows, almost from the moment he engages, that he’s made a deep mistake attempting the attack this way. Though he comes upon the pirate in the dead of night, alone as planned, he hadn’t considered that the pirate’s shipmates might still be within earshot. His blade only crosses the pirate’s once before he hears heavy boots closing fast.
The pirate thrusts and he manages to parry, but only just. His body feels strange and disconnected, as though he’s a half-beat behind in the dance, perpetually off-step. The pirate presses his advantage; Fabian retreats. Suddenly there’s a flash of light on another drawn sword and several more pirates surround him. At his best he can handle eight, maybe ten. He is not at his best, and light from the streetlamp falls on fifteen.
The pirate grins. “Yer goin’ down, boy.”
“Not a boy anymore.” At least he’ll die in battle, and if he’s very lucky he’ll take this scourge to hell with him. Make his papa proud.
“That remains to be seen,” another says.
The battle is fierce. Swords clash, lunge and dodge, strike-parry-riposte, movements Fabian knows in his sleep, but something is wrong. His body won’t obey. His lungs ache and he can’t catch his breath. Sweat drips into his eye, burning. And then - an opening - the pirate attacking leaves his flank unguarded and Fabian darts in fast - too fast to pull back when he realizes it’s a feint.
I’m fucked, he has time to think, as the pirate whirls. A sharp blow cracks across his elbow, his fingers go numb and his sword falls, clattering to the cobblestone. One of the crew kicks the back of his knees and he stumbles forward and drops. He grabs for his sword, but just as his hand closes around it, the point of the pirate’s sword is at his throat. Should have known it would end this way. Alone. On Leviathan. Fitting for it to be here, tonight - on the anniversary. The way it should have ended if he hadn’t run like a coward, abandoning Alistair to Captain James. Fabian fumbles in his pocket for his crystal, wishing for just enough time to send a last message to the Bad Kids. “Do it,” he says from between gritted teeth.
The pirate barks a laugh, but shakes his head. “Ain’t worth the world o’ hurt that would bring down on me head, boy. Chungledown Bim’s a right devil and yer marked as his. Can’t let ya follow for another go at me, though this has been a delight.”
A brilliant flash of pain blinds him. The crystal slides through his fingers. He falls… and falls… and falls…
through ropes that burn his skin and do nothing to slow his speed and his body hits water that closes over his head like he’s been swallowed whole and still he falls through freezing darkness until the ocean parts and he falls through fire and the flames crackle and whisper - What will you tell the Captain when you meet him in Hell? Have you written your name on the face of the world, Fabian? No, you have written nothing. Nothing to be remembered by. Even your friends have forgotten you. How does it feel to be a failure of a pirate and a failure of a friend? the whisper turns to choking smoke and
Fabian coughs himself awake, lungs aching like he’s been breathing water and smoke, but he still lays where he’d fallen, in some Four Castles back alley. His body’s not been hijacked. Not dropped here by imps. He blinks up at the sky for a long moment, struggling to orient himself. The sky is heavy with clouds, hiding even a sliver of moon. Fat drops of rain pelt down, edged with ice. He blinks the water from his eye and pushes himself to his feet. Once again he staggers through the streets of Leviathan, shivering hard enough to rattle teeth. This time, however, there’s no Cathilda to wrap him in a blanket, no Hangvan to disappear into. No Kristen to slap sense back into him. He wraps his arms around himself, but the rain soaks his shirt and finds no warmth.
Those he passes take no notice of him, perhaps assuming he’s nothing more than another drunken pirate. Even so, he needs to find a place to lay low. Given enough time someone will roll him just to see if he has any coin. Or simply for the fun of it. He’s not even sure, at this moment, that he could defend himself against a single assailant. His head aches where the pirate hit him and his throat is unaccountably raw. Then, as if to add insult to injury, he sneezes. Once, twice, thrice, smothered in the sleeve of his shirt. He always sneezes in threes. Riz teased him mercilessly about it.
“If you’d just sneeze like a normal person, instead of those pinchy things, you’d be done in one, Fabiahn,” Riz would say, drawing his name out like his elvish grandfather did.
“It’s called being polite, The Ball,” he’d reply. “And what do you know about normal?”
“About as much as you.”
They’d laugh together and Fabian’s embarrassment would ease. He would give anything for Riz to be laughing with him now.
Suddenly a door slams open and a wash of warm yellow light spills over the ground in front of him. He glances up. Maybe Kristen sent Cassandra to watch over him, because his meandering path has brought him to the Gold Gardens. The exiting patron brushes past with a muttered curse, but Fabian barely notices. As the doors swing shut, Bob’s voice slips through, full of dream and promise. Fabian checks his pockets and breathes a sigh of relief at the comforting feel of coin.
He stands straighter, raises his chin, allowing the light to fall on his face, scars and eyepatch and all, as the Goliath guard regards him suspiciously. Though it has been some time since he’s been on Leviathan and longer since he’s sought refuge at the Gold Gardens, he trusts the reputation he’s built in the intervening years yet holds. “Good evening. I find myself in need of a room for the night,” he says. “I have payment.”
The other guard, a half-orc he vaguely recognizes from previous visits, turns to him. Her face betrays no reaction to his disheveled state. It’s likely that she’s seen worse. “Ah, Master Seacaster. Garthy O’Brien has made it known there is always room for you here. Please, enter.”
Fabian sketches a small bow. The doors swing wide and the heat that flows out and envelops him is nearly as heavenly as Bob’s voice. But the change in temperature makes his nose run. He sniffs, presses the back of his wrist against the tickling itch, but can’t stop the inevitable. He’s barely inside before he’s sneezing again and wishing for something other than his sleeve to cover with. “H’tchsh! Chh! H’tsh!” He hopes the music and general merriment of the patrons is enough to hide the slight sound, but of course he is noticed.
“Blessings, Fabian, darling. Are you ill?” Garthy touches his shoulder gently and before he can stop himself, Fabian flinches away. His skin feels too tight, even the light pressure too much sensation. They take a step back, one hand raised in a calming gesture.
“I beg your pardon, Garthy,” Fabian says, attempting his usual charming smile. He’s not sure he pulls it off, because a small frown of concern still lingers between their brows. Somehow the expression does nothing to mar their beauty; the proprietor of the Gold Gardens is exquisite as always, the few silver threads in their black dreads the only indicator of years passing. “I’m fine. Just a little chilled from the rain. And you, my friend, are a sight for sore eyes. Eye.” His mouth quirks. “Might there be a room for a traveler seeking shelter from the storm?”
Garthy considers him for a long moment, gaze intent. Fabian resists the urge to look away, to avoid scrutiny. It’ll only make them more suspicious. He concentrates on keeping his expression vaguely flirtatious, his stance loose and easy. At last Garthy gives the smallest nod, allowing him his ruse. “I have told you before, lovey, you are always welcome here. You and yours. Come.” They turn down a hallway and Fabian follows.
Bob’s voice, the rattle of dice, the din of too much conversation fade and Fabian releases a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The Bad Kids always stayed in a room just off the main parlor, right in the midst of the action. Fig and Gorgug would take over for the house band and practically blow the roof off. Kristen would try to outdrink that biggest pirate she could find, and usually ended up drunk-best-friends with everyone. If Tracker had to pull her out of a fight or two, well, that just kept things interesting. Ragh and Fabian would drink too much mead and take too much snuff and Ragh would challenge the wrong people to wrestling matches and Fabian would beat the wrong people at dice and sometimes fists would be thrown. Good naturedly, of course. Adaine would watch them all over the spine of a book from the Compass Points and shake her head. Sometimes she had to heal one or another of them, but she never seemed to mind. Riz would disappear into the crowd for indeterminate amounts of time, only to suddenly appear at their table with a sharp-toothed grin and clues to whatever mystery they were trying to solve that he’d gleaned from overheard conversations. Fig and Kristen, especially, never wanted the nights to end. Sometime around dawn, though, Kristen and Tracker would peel off, followed by Fig and Ayda. The rest of them shared a room, Fabian, Riz, Gorgug, and Ragh all sprawled on a huge bed while Adaine tranced on a chaise nearby. Somehow Fabian slept better those nights than before or since, even though the room was never peaceful, or silent. Ragh and Gorgug snored. Adaine muttered to herself in her trance. Riz, when he slept, was restless, taking up more room than a three and a half foot tall goblin should. When he didn’t, his pen would scratch across his notebook for hours. None of it ever bothered Fabian.
A door creaks open, startling Fabian out of his thoughts. The room Garthy offers is a small and simply furnished space, just a bed, desk, and fireplace. Fabian crosses the room to a large window and looks out over the edge of the city to the black ocean beyond. It’s still raining, drops pattering against the pane. He should say something to Garthy. Thank them for the room, make a joke about another Leviathan brawl gone badly. He can’t find the words. Any words.
“Would you like something to eat? Or perhaps a warm drink?” Garthy’s voice is quiet, as though they might be intruding.
“No, thank you,” he says. Kippers, Master Fabian? Cathilda’s voice in his head. I don’t deserve kippers. He didn’t. Doesn’t. Twenty men dead. Twenty innocent men. Worst of all, Alistair Ash. Still a child. Dead because he needed to prove that he was a true pirate, heir to his father’s fame. That he is worthy. Instead he left Alistair to the fate that should have been his. He rubs his hand over his eye as though he could rub away the ache. The failure.
Garthy whispers something Fabian doesn’t catch, and flames rise in the hearth, hot and bright, crackling cheerfully. “At least let me take your wet things,” they say. “You’re shaking.”
He hadn’t realized how cold he still feels, despite being out of the wind and rain, until Garthy points it out. He takes a breath to declare, again, that he’s fine, but a chill cascades over him, followed by several sneezes, instantly proving him wrong. “H’ngxt! Fuck. H’Ntch! Ngxt!” He straightens and Garthy offers a handkerchief. Abashed, he takes it, blows his nose. “Pardon me.” Before he can gather himself, he’s overtaken again. At least this time he has a handkerchief to mute the sound. The sneezes shiver through him hard enough to send drops of rain spattering from his hair.
“Bless you, darling.” Garthy draws him closer to the fire. With deft fingers they undress him, peeling sodden clothes from his body, then wrap him in a thick robe. He doesn’t resist, suddenly beyond exhausted. Everything feels like it’s happening at a distance. Or maybe through a pane of glass. “Come, have a lay down. Things’ll look better in the morning.”
Fabian nods, even though he’s certain things will look just the same. He barely slides between the sheets when his eye drifts closed. He feels the bed dip slightly as Garthy sits beside him and, seeking warmth, he curls close. They smell spicy and sweet, like cinnamon and sandalwood and orange blossoms. Garthy curves a hand over his forehead. It’s strangely comforting and he wants to bury his face in Garthy’s hair, but instead he drifts out and out and…
floats in a strange grey emptiness. He can only identify his surroundings by absence. No color. No sound. No touch. He thinks he lifts his hands, or tries to lift his hands, or what should be his hands, but there’s nothing. He tries to look down, what he might assume is down, only to find no body. Nothing. It’s like the Nightmare Forest, but worse because they defeated the Nightmare King. They defeated Kalina. Which means this must be real. This nought. Of course no one reaches out… you don’t exist.You never existed. You are not even memory. You are a nonentity. A nullity. He opens his mouth to argue, but there’s no mouth, no vocal cords, no lungs, no breath. No words. No thoughts. Just deep, endless cold. Bone aching cold, if he had bones.
“...safe…You’re all right. Wake up, Fabian, love.” Garthy’s voice coalesces from the cold, at first sounding sharp as ice breaking. But they know his name, beckon him back into form by shaping the word. “Come on, darling. You’re dreaming.”
“Should’ve left me; felt better there. Nothing hurts when you don’t have a body,” he mumbles, and even though he has vocal cords again, he sounds nothing like himself. He clears his throat, sniffs.
Garthy laughs, low and kind. “Let me help you feel better, here in your body.” They cup his cheek gently, then urge him up and through a door to a bathing chamber.
A large bathtub stands in the center of the room, steam rising in soft curls. It is surrounded with dozens of candles and in their light Garthy glows, irises and tattoos molten gold. Fabian reaches for them, hesitantly. As if touching them might dim their shine. They smile tenderly, allowing him to trace the Zajiri script, the flowers and leaves with one tentative finger. He wonders what the writing might mean. Their skin is soft under Fabian’s own calloused hands. He longs for Garthy to wrap their arms around him, to hold him close until his shivering stops, until he’s finally warm. He doesn’t know how to ask.
Instead he moves back, putting a bit of distance between them. “I’m not w…” he starts to say, but an unexpected set of sneezes interrupts and he only just manages to pull the handkerchief from his robe pocket. “Ht’ngxt! Heh...ihh… Nxgt! H’tchh!”
“Not well?” Garthy suggests, steadying him. “Blessings.”
Heat rises in Fabian’s cheeks and he coughs a laugh. “That either. But no.” He gestures broadly, including the room, the bath, Garthy themself. “Not worth this.”
Garthy tilts their head with a puzzled frown. “Oh, lovey, of course you are.” They press one finger to Fabian’s lips before he can continue arguing. “Shh. It’s all right.” They take Fabian’s elbow, guiding him into the bath.
Fabian sinks into the heat with a deep sigh as his muscles begin to relax. He slides down, submerging himself completely in warm darkness. The water closes over his face; he rests his head on the bottom of the tub, and the only thing he hears is the thump of his own heart in his ears, still beating, beating, beating. At last his breath runs out and he surfaces with a gasp.
Gathy’s pulled a stool up beside the bath and as Fabian wipes water out of his eye, they wet a cloth and begin to wash his back, humming quietly. The soap smells of eucalyptus and peppermint, cool and clean. Fabian shivers once, and only slowly eases into the touch, closing his eye as Garthy washes his hair, gently working his fingers over his scalp. A memory rises, unbidden - himself, in the bath, he can’t be more than five and he’s sobbing. His papa is away, his mama asleep in her room even though it’s not even dark outside and he’s sick and scared. But then Cathilda’s there, as she always is, and she’s cleaning him up and humming a lullaby. Tears rise now, before he can stop them, dripping into the water.
“What’s distressing you, love?” Garthy asks.
It takes him several minutes to gather his thoughts; they feel ephemeral as clouds floating through his mind. “It’s been twenty years, Garthy. Shouldn’t it have faded?” He coughs, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “I still see them, you know. My father’s warlocks.” He presses the heels of his palms against his eye sockets. Breathe, he tells himself.
Garthy hums a listening noise.
“I shouldn’t have gone alone that night. I just wanted a moment in Crow’s Keep - we’d gone there together, my papa and I. When I was little. It was the one time Mama got angry at him, for bringing me to Leviathan, when he wasn’t supposed to be interacting with pirates. But he’d taken me up to watch the sun rise. He said he’d bring me to the top of the world, that we could touch the clouds. If I was lucky, I might even bring some home in my pockets…
“He gave me cotton candy, told me it was one he’d harvested himself. I’d never imagined clouds tasted so sweet…” he licks his lips, remembering how the candy had melted on his tongue, just like a rain cloud.
“I thought, maybe… somehow… if I spoke to him from the top of the world, he might hear me.” Fabian laughs at himself, coughs on a sob but manages to swallow it back. “Of course, Papa wasn’t listening. He was busy taking over Hell and selling spells to pirates. Always on to a bigger adventure, even in death.
“When the warlocks came, I let myself get swept up. Figuratively, as well as literally. I told them about Papa. About what I’d done… and it wasn’t enough. I killed him and it wasn’t enough.” He takes a ragged breath and Garthy rubs his back in slow circles. “I thought we could take Captain James. I thought I could take Captain James. It would make up for… everything.” He sucks in another breath, on the edge of desperation. He can’t get enough air. When he blinks, he feels Whitclaw’s tentacles on his face, cold fingers gripping him tight, raw hatred pulsing in the air between them.
“It went so fast. So fast. If I didn’t run… if I didn’t… he would have killed me… with the others. I didn’t stop to think, I didn’t even grab Alistair and he was fighting for me. I abandoned him… and I didn’t die, but he did. Because I fucked up.” Fabian sits in silence for several minutes, jaw clenched, struggling to breathe and not cry.
“I thought the guilt would fade,” he finally says, voice rough and not much above a whisper. “I thought the good I’ve done since would make up for it. I thought the adventures I had with the Bad Kids would make up for it. But it hasn’t. It doesn’t. And they’re gone… I thought killing the last of Whitclaw’s men would be penance. But I fucked that up, too.”
The only sound for a long moment is the rain on the roof, thunder rolling in the distance. Then Fabian takes a breath like he’s about to dive into the ocean and turns to face Garthy. “Am I forgivable?”
“Oh my darling Fabian. Of course you are. You are already forgiven.” They lean forward and brush the lightest kiss across his lips. “Yes, dire mistakes were made. And you have repented of those mistakes, and made reparations. You did not follow in your father’s footsteps; you found your own way. You have made a good man of yourself. You help those who are in need. You do not take advantage of anyone. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. Tales of your deeds are not spoken of as widely as Captain Bill Seacaster, but I have heard them nonetheless. Be proud of who you have become, Fabian Aramais Seacaster. And you should know that Alistair Ash lives again.”
A warm breeze whirls through the room and the candles suddenly go out. It’s as though the light has been transmuted into a seed of hope in Fabian, gold as the irises of Garthy’s eyes. Back in bed, Fabian curls into Garthy and they wrap their arms around him, holding tight until his trembling passes.
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raiseyourcups · 4 years ago
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Sorry that I lost our love
Pairing: Din Djarin x Ex-Mandalorian Reader Warnings: Not so vague allusions to sex, Star Wars cursing, actual cursing, violence (more than canon-typical imo), angst peppered throughout, angst ending Word Count: 4.2k (because I can’t write short things to save my life) Notes: If you think I should add anything else as a warning, let me know. I wrote this in an inspired rush and it was 3:30am by the time I finished this. Also please let me know if there’s any stray she/her’s that refer to the reader or anything that describes reader in any way. Thank you!
Summary: A Mandalorian lands on Tatooine and you would like nothing more than to dig a hole and hide in it until he leaves. Too bad you work for Peli Motto and have no choice in the matter. Thankfully he leaves for a bounty but of course that’s when things go sideways. 
Sequel with less angst
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The armor was new, all silver beskar but you would recognize that stance anywhere. You had grown up learning everything about him and vice-versa. There was a time when the two of you knew every inch of the other’s body, fumbling around in the dark together, twin blindfolds covering their eyes just in case the lights turned on. Yes, you used to know Din Djarin like the back of your hand. But then he had gone against Guild Code and they came after the Covert. Someone had pulled off your helmet before you could get them off of you and that was the end of that. 
The Armorer had been understanding but everyone knew the Creed, your helmet had been removed by someone other than your family. Not that you had any family. Once upon a time you had wished for it to be Din but now…
You had been able to get passage on a ship, got as far as Tatooine which still wasn’t far enough for you but you hadn’t been able to catch another ride yet. Rather than wallow in your sorrow, you found somewhere to work despite being utterly useless at everything outside of fighting. Peli Motto was a beacon of hope, had taken one look at you and taken you in as an employee. At first it was small things, cleaning up after the droids but eventually she began to trust you with a spanner. 
And now back to the present.
You didn’t know how much time had passed since that bounty hunter had damned you, when a familiar ship limped its way to the spaceport you had started to call home. You made yourself as scarce as you could as Peli went out to speak with the owner of the ship. You were close enough to hear what was being said but hid behind a piece of junk that even Peli couldn’t fix. 
“No droids.”
“It’ll cost ya more but fine,” Peli said before turning her head in the direction she had last seen you. “Starbird, get over here!”
Peli had given you the nickname when you told her you didn’t want to reveal your name to her, not because you couldn’t trust her but because you hadn’t heard someone say it in so long. Well...hadn’t heard someone other than Din but that would never happen again now. You had taken to wearing a scarf, covering your hair even though it wouldn’t matter, and you adjusted it as you walked over. It made you feel more secure, like you weren’t dar’manda even if you knew the truth. He wouldn’t recognize you, had never seen you without your helmet and those nights didn’t count with the pitch black of the room. As long as you didn’t speak around him, you could help Peli fix his ship and he would be gone again. 
“Mando here doesn’t like droids so it’s just you and me fixing this rust bucket, got it?”
You nodded silently, ignoring the confused look your silence got you from Peli. The Mandalorian, the one you thought you had known so well, tilted his head and you could almost feel his gaze on you. You and Peli move towards the ship to take note of the obvious damage and you can’t help but cringe when you finally see how bad of a shape it is. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shootout and you have a fuel leak!” Peli kept muttering to herself as she found more and more things wrong with the Razor Crest. You pointed out a few more things to her, still keeping your mouth shut. “This ship is a mess, the fact you were even able to land it! This is gonna set you back.”
“All I have is 500 Imperial credits.” The Mandalorian held the credits out and Peli wasted no time snatching them away from him. “That’s all you got? What do you think, Birdie?”
You shrugged and held a hand out, palm facing the ground as you tilted it from side to side. It was going to take a hell of a lot more credits to fix up the Crest, the fact that it was pre-Imperial making it even harder to find spare parts. 
“Well then, this should at least cover the hangar.”
“I’ll get you your money,” The Mandalorian said bluntly, but you could just about hear the desperation beneath the vocoder in his helmet. You were taken aback, had never heard him sound like that before. 
“Hmm, we’ve heard that before.”
“Just remember…”
“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya, you don’t have to say it twice.” Peli watched as the Mandalorian walked away before letting out a scoff. “Womp rat.”
Peli sat with the droids, starting up a card game with them, dealing you in without asking. You let out a sigh because she knew how kriffing bad you were at every card game. 
“What was that?” You asked, staring at the gangway of the Crest as a loud shriek echoed from the Crest.
“Oh so you are gonna speak today?”
“Sorry, I just-”
Peli cut you off, “Nope, I said I wouldn’t ask questions when I hired you and I meant it.”
You were about to thank Peli for being so understanding when you both hear a cry coming from inside the ship. Peli turned to the droids, “Shh, quick, grab my blaster rifle.”
“Peli, I don’t think you’ll need it.”
“Better safe than sorry, who knows what he has on that rustbucket.” The two of you inched closer to the Crest slowly, Peli with a trigger finger ready to go. “I’d stay in that ship if I were you!”
The tiniest creature you had ever seen started walking down the gangway, smoke and dust getting in its eyes. You let out a gasp, bringing up a hand to cover your mouth when it dropped open. Peli looked at you confused but lowered the blaster rifle, there was no way this...thing was a threat. The little thing let out a coo and looked at you both with its sad eyes. You couldn’t help but move forward to pick it up when it raised his hands in the air. 
“Oh honey, did he leave you all alone on the ship?” You asked it, cradling it in your arms before looking up at an equally confused Peli. You gave her a shrug, unsure what else to do. She moved closer and looked into the child’s big eyes and was stumped. 
“Would you like some food? Are you hungry?” The child seemed to like that idea, letting out a loud coo as his little stomach growled. Peli turned to the closest droid. “Fetch us something to eat, quick!”
“Maybe something with bones in it,” you added when you caught sight of his little teeth. The droid took off in search of food. “Okay, so here’s the plan, little one. I’m gonna look after you until the Mandalorian gets back.”
“And then I’m gonna charge him extra for watching you, see how that works?” Peli added before heading off to do some repairs, a new pep in her step at the thought of a bigger pay day. 
You couldn’t put the child down, just stunned. Was this why he had broken Guild Code? Was this tiny little thing the reason you could never go back home? If it was then more of the anger you had let fester inside of you dissipated, you couldn’t blame Din. As more time passed, the more sleepy both you and the child seemed to get which led to you telling Peli that we were going to give the child a nap. She waved you off saying that she probably would take one too, it wasn’t like you two could do anything for the ship without more credits.
You didn’t even notice when you fell asleep but a loud shout scared both you and the child awake. You let out a quiet shriek and the combination made the child start crying. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I”m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Where is it?” You heard the Mandalorian growl to one of the droids and you walked as fast as you could to where he was. 
“He’s right here, now keep your voice down. He was taking a nap,” You tried to keep your voice steady, not only to calm the child down but also to still your beating heart. You bounced the kid in your arms a few times, staying light on your feet in order to sway a little as you tried to shush him. The Mandalorian tilted his helmet at the sound of your voice but then he realized that you were still holding the child. 
“Give him to me.” He pointed at you threateningly, or at least you supposed he was trying to be threatening. It wasn’t going to work since you were so annoyed with him right now. 
“No. You can’t just leave a child alone on a ship like that!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice but you did as you pointed your own finger at him. “I can’t believe someone would trust you enough to have a child with you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Oh I know more than you think I do,” You said, glaring up at him and hoping that you were making eye contact so he knew how serious you were. 
“What’s going on out here?” Peli asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes but alert nonetheless. 
“Mando’s back. And he woke up the baby.” You said your last words with a glare towards that kriffing rustbucket. 
“Oh well, while you were gone, I started the repair on the fuel leak while Birdie here watched the kid.” Peli gestured towards you but you paid her no mind as you made sure the kid was okay. “There were a couple of setbacks that I want to talk to you about.”
Peli kept going on about the repairs, how they took longer without the droids or your help since you were preoccupied with the child he hadn’t warned you two about. He walked into the ship and you moved back over to Peli, unsure what he was doing. He came back down with a bag and looked at you both.
“We figured you were good for it since you have an extra mouth to feed,” you said, no longer worried about speaking in front of him. He once again tilted his head at the sound of your voice. 
“Thank you.” He said before walking away. You were, once again, stunned at how rude he was being. First he leaves a child alone on his ship, threatens you when he realizes you’re holding the kid, and now he’s just going to leave again. You shot a look towards Peli before you followed after him, kid still in your arms. 
“You know it takes a lot for Peli to keep those droids powered up, right?”
“Hey, Mando, what do you think? Not too shabby, huh?” A new voice spoke once they were out of the spaceport. You rolled your eyes at the sound. Calican. 
The Mandalorian gave the speeder bike a once over, looking over Calican in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t impressed. “What? This isn’t Corellia. Hey, Birdie, still looking good.”
You rolled your eyes at him before turning around to head back inside of Peli’s shop. Those brief seconds of speaking to Toro Calican were more than enough for you. You heard the speeders take off and knew they probably wouldn’t be back until later. 
“Well now that we’re all awake, let’s get some more repairs done,” Peli said, already getting ready to do so. You joined her, placing the child on one hip in order to pass her any tools she may need. The suns went down and there was still no sign of the Mandalorian or Toro so you and Peli just kept working. There was nothing else to do. But even repairs couldn’t take forever and soon enough it was just you and your thoughts. 
With no sight of either bounty hunters everyone decided to head in for the night, you kept the child with you since you knew Peli already had her hands full with the droids that were like her own children. Morning came quicker than you were prepared for knowing that the Mandalorian and Toro would probably be back soon. 
Part of you knew you couldn't wait for the Mandalorian to leave the planet but another part of you, the younger and dumber part of you wished that he would recognize you before he left. You didn’t know what that would do for you, it wasn’t like he could do anything. You were dar’manda now, you could never be together again, no matter how much you missed him. 
“Hey, Birdie, I’m gonna head out to the cantina for a bit. Wanna come?” Peli came out of her room, having changed into a slightly cleaner jumpsuit. 
You looked down at the child in your arms before looking back up at Peli. “I’m not taking a baby to a cantina.”
“Suit yourself, and if that Mandalorian comes back while I’m gone, make sure he pays before he leaves.”
“Got it, have fun and don’t drink too much.”
“What are you, my mother?” Peli replied shortly but with a smile on her face as she left. You shook your head, a smile on your own face as you looked down at the child. 
“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” 
“Hey, Birdie.” You flinched at the sound of Toro’s voice from behind you and spun on your heel to face him. Your brow furrowed when you noticed that he was alone. 
“Toro? Where’s D-- Mando?”
“About that, put that thing on the ground before I shoot you.” He was aiming his blaster at you before you could even blink.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I really don’t wanna shoot you, you’re too pretty to die.”
You weighed your options and knew that it would best to listen to him and put the child down before making your move. So you did, placing him on one of the empty fuel drums that you and Peli used as a table. 
“I said the ground, are you stupid?” Tora asked as he moved towards the child which is when you moved. Faster than he could react, you rushed forward and hit him with your shoulder, knocking him off balance. He didn’t lose his grip on his blaster, unfortunately, since you hadn’t been able to hit him on that side but you took advantage of his being off balance. You rolled forward and grabbed a spanner as you got back up on your feet and rushed towards Toro again. You pushed him against the Crest, hitting him with the spanner several times before he finally grabbed your arm and held it out to the side, letting you throw a punch with your other fist. You dropped the spanner without meaning to but you had another idea.
You grabbed his blaster, spinning away from him in an attempt to get him to let go of it, even throwing your head back to headbutt him. He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, dropping you onto another fuel drum. You groaned out in pain, wishing you still had your armor, but you didn’t let go of the blaster even as he picked you back up and you two fell to the ground. You forced him up, grip still hard on the blaster as you tried to break it on a piece of metal. Kriffing Toro and spending all his credits on high end bantha shit. You heard something pop and took the chance to punch him again, followed by a quick elbow to keep him down just a little while longer while you looked for another weapon.
Where was Peli? Or Din? Was Din even still alive?
You didn’t have time to ask yourself anymore questions as Toro grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to your feet, and throwing a punch at your face. Using your arm as leverage he tossed you into the side of the Crest and you turned just in time to block another punch with your arm before bringing your knee up into his side. You put your arms around his neck and flipped both of your bodies over and onto the ground. It was getting harder to catch your breath and you had no idea Toro had that much stamina when fighting. It had been too long since you fought anyone. 
You tried to get to your feet before Toro but he beat you to it, throwing several punches your way. You got up, kicking out at him just for him to grab your leg again. But it left you open to punch him yourself, one to the face and another to the stomach. He grabbed your arm, bringing up his own knee to your wrist causing you to let out a shout of pain. He put a hand around your throat but you brought your knee up to his crotch making him fall to the ground. He wasn’t unconscious though so you went for another kick, this one to the face, but he grabbed your leg and flipped you onto your back again. 
Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t get back up and you felt so weak all of a sudden. Maybe it was the blood gushing from your nose or the fact that you had now been dropped onto your back twice or the ringing in your ears. Either way, Toro had won. You could hear the child crying from where you had left him, it was amazing that you two hadn’t slammed into it during the fight. 
“Didn’t think you had that in you, Birdie.” Toro said as he forced you up. “That was stupid though, I was going to let you go but now...now you get to be my hostage.”
He pulled your hands behind your back, wrapping a cord around them tightly. You could feel it digging into your skin but there wasn’t anything you could do now. You willed yourself to not let him see you cry, cursing yourself for being so Maker damned emotional. “Why are you doing this, Toro?”
“Because that thing has the highest bounty I’ve heard of and Mando...well he’s worth even more with that armor.” The unspoken meaning behind his words hit you like a flash of lightning. 
“No!” You thrashed in his grasp, he couldn’t. No, he couldn’t take Din’s armor, he couldn’t be like you. He couldn’t. 
“Stay still or I’ll shoot you right now,” Toro growled out. You did as he said because you couldn’t help Din if you died before he made it back. He dragged you along as he went over to where you had placed the child and you winced as he picked him up roughly. As the hours passed, you grew more and more worried for Din. Toro was just getting angrier and you were scared he’d shoot first and ask questions never. You hoped Peli stayed at the cantina a little while longer. 
The suns had already gone down by the time he showed up and your breathing had gotten a little more labored. You were also sure that your back was bruised to haran and back. Toro stood a little straighter, pushed you forward a step before speaking. “Took you long enough, Mando. You missed a hell of a fight.”
He shoved his blaster into the middle of your back and you walked down the gangway and into the moonlight to see Din pointing a blaster at you. Really it was on Toro but you were in the way. He took half a step back and his helmet twitched to the side when he caught sight of your face. You were sure you looked a mess, Toro hadn’t even bothered cleaning the blood off your face. 
“I’m the one calling the shots now. Drop the blaster and raise ‘em.” 
Din did as he was told and placed his hands behind his head. Toro pushed his blaster into your back again before undoing the cord around your wrists. “Cuff him and don’t try anything.”
You let out a quiet growl of anger but ripped the cuffs away from Toro and moved over to where Din was.
“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando.” Toro said, before pointing a gun towards the child. Your hands tightened on the cuffs. “I’m willing to bet this is the target you helped escape.”
You moved to place the cuffs on Din’s wrists when a light clink caught your attention. You looked up and saw your potential saving grace. “Oh you smart man.” You couldn’t help but whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. 
“Fennec was right, bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.” Toro said. You pretended to shut the cuffs on Din’s wrists, shuffling them behind you as you walked out from behind Din to stand next to him. “Say, Birdie, one last thing before I shoot you.”
“What?”
“What is your real name?” 
You didn’t have to answer, you could give Din a signal to set off the flash charger but you couldn’t stop yourself. “...Y/N.” You answered.
A delayed second later and Din pressed down on the flash charger and you shut your eyes before dropping to the ground and rolling behind a fuel drum. You would just get in the way now. You watched as Toro blindly shot at nothing while Din moved behind the crates to the left, popping back out in time to shoot Toro just as he turned. You rushed forward as Toro fell off the gangway, he had still been holding the child. 
“Stay back.” Din’s voice was a weird mix of stoic and emotional, the vocoder in his helmet making it sound off. 
“He had the child,” you said as Din leaned down to move Toro onto his back. There was no child. “Where did he go?” 
You didn’t mean to cling onto Din’s arm as you both looked in every direction. A quiet babble caught your attention as the child game out from behind a couple of baskets. Your heart slowed down from its rapid pace as soon as you saw him. “Oh hun, there you are,” you said as you picked him up. 
“You’re okay now,” you bounced the child a few times as Din grabbed something off Toro’s body. He came over to where you were and you pretended to be very interested in the child. 
“Y/N.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?” He asked you and you weren’t sure if he meant the wounds on your face, as he reached out to oh so lightly stroke your cheek, or if he meant the fact that you had broken the Creed you both took. 
“I tried to fight back, I lost.” It was true of both occasions. Din stared down at you as the child continued to babble. You still couldn’t look up from  looking at the child. 
“Come with me.” That got your attention, head snapping up to look at Din like he had lost his mind. You knew he could be dumb sometimes, breaking Guild Code an obvious example, but this took the uj cake.
“I can’t.” 
“Why?”
“Din, you know why I can’t go with you.” The fact that he could see you, really see you should have made it clear why you couldn’t go with him. 
“I don’t care.”
“You say that now but what about tomorrow, or next week, in two weeks? I’m dar’manda.”
“And it’s my fault, cyar’ika.”  Din said as he moved forward, bringing his helmet down to gently rest against your forehead.
“Don’t call me that, not anymore.”
“Y/N…”
You let out a shuddery breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to rise. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, you need to find somewhere safe for the child, and I cannot go with you.” 
Din stared at you for one more long moment before reaching out to take the child, silently passing you the pouch he had taken from Toro. You opened it and let out a gasp, looking back up at Din in shock. He started to reach out again but stopped himself, nodded once, and turned to get back on the Crest. And you just watched him. Kept watching as the Crest took off, leaving you behind once again.
You wished you could go back to the beginning, when you had first met Din as kids with scraped knees and elbows from trying to do all the fight moves the adults could do. Growing up with each other, feelings changing until that first kiss in the pitch dark of someone’s room, you couldn’t remember whose it was. The first time you two snuck out of the covert to rent a room, tying blindfolds around your eyes in order to show how deep your love went for each other. 
But you couldn’t. You never could.
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fific7 · 4 years ago
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Dangerous and Divine - Part 2
Billy Russo x Reader
Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.
A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.
Warnings: Some drinking and swearing. Billy could possibly be borderline DUI* on way home.
*Please Don’t Drink & 🚙 ...you don’t want to end up needing 🚑 🚓 🚒 for you or other people.
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(My GIF)
You raised an eyebrow, unsmiling, “What’s the price?”
“Come for a drink with me.... but not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”
Laughing quietly, you climbed into the Rolls Royce Wraith, Billy closing the door for you before walking round to the driver’s side. He smiled back, looking across at you as he clipped on his seatbelt, “Somethin’ amusing you?”
“Well here we are, two CEO’s if you will, and this is your ride. Wanna know what mine is?” He nodded, “Yeah, tell me.” “The subway, or these two pretty feet.” He laughed, “Usedta be mine too.”
The car’s engine purred into life and he swung it quickly out of the parking space, heading towards the exit of the underground car park.
“So,” you glanced across at his profile, “where are we heading?” “Not far,” he said, “a neighbourhood bar I hang out at. It’s relaxed, not too busy.”
Shortly after that, he parked the sleek car on the street and the two of you headed into a small bar with low lighting, background music and not too many people in it. The bartender mock-saluted Billy as he stepped inside, and there was a whisky on the bar by the time you two got there.
Billy looked sidelong at you as you perched yourself onto a barstool, “What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” You gave him a ‘Look’, saying, “Sweetheart?”
He smirked, shrugging, “Hey! you are my fake girlfriend, after all.” “Ha ha, okay - you get a pass this time, big boy.” This time he drawled out your name, continuing, “You’ve been lookin’!” leaning back slightly and gesturing at his zip area. You lightly punched his arm, “Referring to your height, smartass!”
Internally, you were cringing a bit. The sensible side of your brain asked you what you thought you were doing, leaving the cocktail party with a complete stranger, and flirting all over him. The devilish part of your brain answered, ‘Living a little! Flirting with a handsome guy! Stop being such a mood killer!’
“I’ll have a mojito for a change, if you don’t mind,” you said. “Coming right up,” said the bartender, who, you realised, had been listening in to your exchange with Billy.
Once your drink was served, Billy gestured to a table and as you walked over to it, you felt a hand placing itself lightly on your lower back. Confident big devil, you thought, sitting down and watching him fold his tall frame onto the fairly small chair, then sliding his long legs under the table.
Spending the next couple of hours with Billy had actually been enjoyable, you thought, as you listened to him telling you some more about his friends Frank and Curtis. He’d told you about serving in the Marines and setting up Anvil once he’d left. You got the feeling that he’d only scratched the surface about it, though.
You’d only just met of course, however you found yourself wanting to know more about the tall ex-Marine.
And you hadn’t told him everything about yourself either. He now knew you were in the catering industry, but you’d skirted round telling him the details about your two cafes, you weren’t sure why. Maybe you wanted to retain a bit of mystery, you thought, mildly annoyed at yourself for feeling the need to do so.
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He had asked you why you’d owed your cousin a favour. So you found yourself telling him all about it, and he’d barked out a huge laugh when you’d mentioned ‘possibly’ assaulting your ex and the girl he’d been with. And another one, when you confessed you’d been taken into police custody.
“I’m drinkin’ with a criminal?!” he’d grinned, “Oh, I think I should be leaving right now.” You’d slapped him on the arm, “Shut up, you. It was in self-defence.” He raised his eyebrows nearly up into his hairline, “And how do you make that out?” “My eyes were attacked by what they saw!” you protested, and both of you started laughing at that.
“So he’s an ‘ex’ now, is he?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer, which he’d switched to after one whisky. “You bet your life he is! No man treats me like that,” you shook your head, sinking some of your own beer, which you’d joined him in drinking. His dark eyes found yours, “What would you’ve done if you’d found him actually fucking her?”
Your eyes went wide, “Oh, that’s an easy question, Mr Russo. I’d’ve chopped off some of his lower extremities, of course!”
His screwed his eyes up in mock pain, “Woahhh!!! Brutal.” You shrugged, “Well, you asked.”
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Back to the car soon after that, then heading to your apartment after Billy offered to drop you off.
That was after he’d asked if you’d wanted to continue the evening at his place. You’d politely replied ‘thanks but no thanks’ or words to that effect. He’d accepted your answer gracefully, so here you were. Truthfully you’d thought about saying yes - he was really hot, and the two of you had been flirting all evening - but you decided you didn’t want to go down the one-night-stand road with him.
You got the feeling that Billy probably indulged in a lot of those. You’d felt some female eyes boring into the back of your head while you were in the bar, and had turned round to find at least three women staring at you as if they wanted you to spontaneously combust.
And you were better than that, you thought, deserved more than one night of sex (never mind how good you were sure it would be) and a walk of shame in the morning.
The car drew up outside your apartment block, and Billy switched off the engine before releasing his seat belt. You looked over at him, smiling, “Why’d you unbuckle, Billy? You’re not coming in,” smiling even wider at him. He smirked, “You sure about that...?” running his long fingers along your arm. You nodded, “Absolutely sure.” He sighed, “Well, I’ve been tryin’ all evening and got nowhere.. so I’ll need to make do with this...” and his mouth was on yours in an instant.
His hand slid up to the nape of your neck and into your hair, pulling you closer to him at the same time. Your hands landed on his chest, subtly stroking his toned muscles. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he sneakily nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue making its way into your mouth as soon as you opened it slightly in surprise. But you weren’t complaining.
Eventually you both had to come up for air, and eyes still closed, you felt his fingers gently running over your cheek, then heard him say your name, voice low and husky. “I wanna see you again.”
You took a breath, before nodding. “Okay, Billy. Call me.” You’d decided to put the ball in Casanova’s court.
He smiled, “You haven’t given me your number. Tryin’ to ditch me?” You dug out one of your business cards from your wallet, and handed it over. It just had your numbers and registered company name on it. “There you go. Let’s just see if you call,” you smirked, “I bet you’re one of these ’treat em mean’ types, aren’t ya Billy?” He started laughing, shaking his head, “Nah, not me,” leaning in and kissing you briefly again.
“I will call you, that’s a promise,” he said as you opened the car door and got out. You smiled back at him, “I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Night, Billy.”
“Sleep well, sweetheart,” you heard, then in a lower tone, “I’ll be lyin’ awake thinking of what I’m missing out on.”
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The next morning arrived too soon. You’d dragged yourself up to jump into the shower, which did its job of fully waking you up, so you managed to arrive at your office with at least a bit of a spring in your step.
Your office was above your first café in Chelsea, near the Market. It wasn’t huge, but it was well-equipped and decorated exactly as you liked it. It had a large picture window which let in lots of natural light, and had a view towards 14th Street Park and the Hudson. Entry was via the café, so you made your way through, calling out a ‘buon giorno’ to your three co-workers.
None of you were actually Italian, but it had become a tradition and one of those silly in-jokes between co-workers. Which of course no-one else would find amusing in the slightest but it made sense to you guys, as your café/patisseries were named after Italian cities, and because Italians don’t generally call cafés, cafés ...you had Bar Venezia and Bar Firenze. Clichéd? Oh yes. Did you care? Not in the slightest.
You were incredibly proud of your business and your team. The hard scrabble to get the financing together had been really stressful, but it had all come together in the end with the bank and the investors and now, here you were, captain of your own ship, so to speak.
The two cafés had similar decor, simple but elegant, based on cafés you’d visited in various countries across the world. The second café was not too far away in Greenwich Village. They gave out a nice relaxed vibe just as you’d aimed for and you felt blessed - business was good. You had a good mix of regulars and passing trade, and you’d nodded and smiled at a couple of those regular customers as you’d made your way through.
The morning phone call for a catch-up with your other site made, you were now currently reviewing a whole stack of statistics, and they were beginning to swim in front of your eyes. So you weren’t upset when the internal phone rang, and Jake, your right-hand man, told you that you had a visitor who wouldn’t give his name. “What?” you said, “is he selling something?”
“I don’t think so,” said Jake in a very low voice, so you guessed that Mystery Man was standing somewhere near him. You sighed, “Oh, I’ll be right down.” Anything to get away from the stats for a while, and you quite looked forward to ripping him a new one if he was trying to sell you something.
The first person you spotted as you came through the internal door to the café was Billy Russo. You should’ve guessed, really. He was resplendent in yet another expensive suit, hair perfect, jawline with its beard as sharp as you remembered it. His eyes were locked on you, gleaming with mischief as he anticipated your reaction to his unannounced appearance in your domain.
You came to a halt in front of him, then glanced at Jake as he stood watching you a little nervously. “Thanks Jake, it’s fine, I know him. Could you be an absolute gem and get me a double macchiato, an Americano and a small selection of the pastries, please?” Jake nodded, “Sí, subito.”
You indicated for Billy to follow you to a table at the far end of the bar, tucked away beside the exposed brick wall and near the window, out of earshot of the staff and patrons. You both sat, Billy saying, “Good morning, sweetheart,” as he did. “And good morning to you, Stalker Boy.” Billy grinned, leaning towards you and almost whispering, “That’s so cute, givin’ me a nickname already and I haven’t even got you in my bed yet.” You rolled your eyes heavenwards, sighing out, “Billy! This is my workplace.”
He smiled, “And very impressive it is too, I love it. You have exquisite taste.” “Yes, I know,” you smiled back, “thanks for confirming that.” Now he laughed, and you tried not to stare too much, thinking how good he looked when he did. Jake came over with your coffees and pastries, and you smiled fondly at him as he put them down on the table. “Grazie mille, caro,” you thanked him.
Billy frowned slightly, “Very friendly, huh... you & him, then?” You smirked, “Jealous, Mr Russo?” He scoffed as he picked up a couple of sugar packs and shook them, before pouring them into his coffee. “Just nosy, that’s all.” “Jake is the first person I hired, and he’s just the best. But me and him? No... he likes men. Want me to set you up?” He put his head back and laughed. “No... but thanks for offering. I’m busy over here tryin’ to set myself up with you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” You shook your head, laughing while looking down at the table. This guy is relentless, you thought with a little shiver of undeniable excitement.
He picked up one of the little freshly-baked pastries and bit into it, an appreciative expression on his face as he chewed it. “How’d you manage to guess how I like my coffee?” he carried on. “It’s my business to know my customers,” you shrugged, “and looking at you, Billy Russo, you just scream black watered-down espresso to me, especially having been in the Marines and all,” you grinned. He smirked back at you, “Yeah, well, you nailed it - much as I hate to admit it. And going back to the nicknames thing, you should really call me Sniper Boy.”
“Wow, really?” you replied, eyes wide. Yeah, you’d felt a dangerous vibe coming off Billy and now you knew why. Nodding, he took another bite of his pastry and said round it, “Haven’t you googled me yet, then? I googled you.” “Hey, you’re going to be Stalker Sniper Boy now. And no, I didn’t have time.”
“You’re not doing anything for my ego, you know.”
“That’s not my job,” you shrugged again.
“You’re givin’ me such a hard time, here,” his dark eyes staring into yours, and you felt yourself almost drowning in them. “I’d just like to take you to dinner, that’s all. Friday night, 8pm? I’ll pick you up at your place.”
And while your head screamed ‘Say no!’ at you, your treacherous mouth opened up and said, “Yes, fine. 8 pm and don’t be late.”
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You’d walked him to the door when he said he’d better get going. As you reached it, long fingers quickly made their way to the back of your neck, pulling your head towards his and simultaneously, his lips met yours in a long kiss. You tried to pull away from him but he had you in a vice-like grip, and took his own sweet time before breaking away. He placed a second chaste kiss on your cheek and started towards the door, “See you Friday,” in a low voice, paired with a smouldering look at you as he left.
Jake, your two other co-workers Gabrielle and Steve, and your regulars were unsurprisingly all staring at you with blatant and avid interest. Your ex had very rarely visited you at work and when he had, you’d never indulged in PDA’s. You could feel the hot blush on your face as you tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.
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