#and what do we say about that last piece of straw settling gently on that camel

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa’s story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

(9/?)

The alarms hadn’t gone off. Graham’s tampering with the mushroom alarm system had made sure of that. But the tattered villagers and battered knights and rumpled king were not in the clear, not yet. No one had noticed their escape, but with eight prisoners clustered nervously together, the chances of getting out without being spotted at all were maybe a bit too slim.

“Wait,” he said, gesturing for the group to pause. “I’ll go ahead.” At the very least, he was permitted to be out, sort of. If he wasn’t doing anything too obvious. He’d double check their route.

They were not going to be recaptured and put into much worse danger because of his actions here. He couldn’t let that happen.

But. But there were so many goblins in the hall. Aside from the one at the top of the staircase glued to the lever, there were a bunch of others. Just hanging out, talking in their gravelly tones.

Graham leaned back against the corridor wall, studying the meandering goblins. This wasn’t going to be easy, not with all of his friends at his heels. He wondered vaguely if he could get the Daventrians down into the tunnels he’d found earlier, with the marionette horrors and the frogs…but it was such a tight squeeze in so many places down there, and so dark, even with Newton and the mushrooms...

“Whisper doesn’t do scary,” Whisper said, lambasting that idea soundly.

Graham looked through his pockets. He looked forlornly at his bow with its lone arrow, and he muttered to himself, “This weapon isn’t sufficient enough to take on the whole horde. There are just too many of them.”

The rest of his pockets was just more junk, though. He still had the shovel (hit someone?), the harp (distract someone?), Whisper’s portraits (flirt with someone?). Well. Hmm.

“So,” Acorn said. “What’s the plan?”

“Um. Something kinda dumb.”

They glanced uncomfortably at each other, not liking how this was starting out. “Well, it’s your call, string bean. Tell us.”

Graham took the portraits of Whisper he’d been carrying around for days, and then he jammed them onto the end of the little broom he’d also been carrying around for days (“Pfft, when’s the last time you did any of your chores,” Gwendolyn snorted. “I can’t believe you still have that”). In the dark, if you looked at it right, with the inkwork and gentle salamander light bouncing off it, from a distance, maybe it would look like the real deal. Maybe.

“Oooh, Whisper forgot to sign that one. Does anyone have a pen?”

“I need this posted up at the bottom of the staircase, and then I’m gonna yell for the goblins to go see what that is, and it should get them going down to look. And then I think I can get you guys to move up, quietly, while they’re distracted. I mean, it might be kinda quickly timed, as far as events go. Do you think we can do that?”

The group contemplated this. It looked like no one was particularly happy about the idea. And then it got a little worse.

“Ooooh, Acorn?” Chester leaned forward.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a piggyback ride for this?”

“Absolutely not! Do I look like a Kyle to you?”

“But I might not be fast enough otherwise,” he wheedled and whined.

“Oh, yes you will, if you wanna see that shop of yours again.”

“Is that a threat?”

“All I’m sayin’ is, if the current owner doesn’t pay the rent…”

“Ohhh, I think I see what’s going on here. This is a scheme of the lowest, most devious nature!” Chester squared up to the knight, which was fairly pointless as he couldn’t see over Acorn’s belly when standing that close. He jabbed a finger sharply in Acorn’s gut. It bounced off his armor. “You…schemer!”

“Acorn, be nice,” Graham said wearily, adjusting his Whisper decoy.

“It doesn’t have to be goblins that do it,” Acorn said breezily. “I hear there are fantastic retirement communities in Tanalore. I have a brochure at home.”

“Retirement? Oh-hoh, you seem very keen on me leaving my shop. Between the goblins and this retirement thing, I think you want my shop deed, don’t you!”

“I just wanna be crafty. Like you,” Acorn admitted, and for just a split second, Graham could hear the honesty in his voice. For a split second. And then Chester had to ruin it.  

“I’ve seen your crafts, and there’s no witch or wizard in them!” Chester said heatedly. “The lowest tier of crafting…folk!”

“Oh, you take that back! I’m an artist!”

“You, sir, are a hobbyist! You don’t even have a store.”

“Well, I would if you’d just retire already.”

“It comes back to that!” Chester hissed. He was reaching into a pocket, possibly to pull out some forgotten bird bomb or other trick in his sleeve.

“Stop!” Graham said, shoving the two of them apart—shoving Chester back, anyway. Acorn moved not an inch. “We can deal with this later, okay? Please!” The two stood glaring at each other, arms crossed, and Graham just knew the argument was going to flare up again shortly.

(“I see what you meant earlier about people not listening to you much even as a king,” Gwendolyn said, watching the mirror.

“Alas, tempers were a little too high, even as far underground as we all were,” Grandpa agreed. “Maybe some good clean escapades would help soothe the stress.”)

“Bramble Fey, reporting for duty,” Bramble said, stepping up to Graham with a little salute, knocking the tension out of the air as firmly as kneading dough. She glanced at Acorn with a soft smile, then: “Wente and I talked, and I think we can do it. Even with our little bun in the oven. We can do it. Whatever you think is right.”

Amaya shook her head, still looking reluctant, but with the Feys making the first step forward... “Well. My gut is still empty, so we’ll go with yours. If this is the best way to get going, then we’ll do it.”

“Fine. Chester can do it, too,” Chester agreed, but he was still grumbling a bit.

“No, you have to say it dramatically!” Whisper said, clapping Chester on the back. “Like this!” He flung his hand in the air and posed, with a loud, “Whisper can do it!”

“Whisper! Whispering voice!” Graham said desperately. No goblins came to check on them, at least. Lucky break. But then, everything he was doing seemed to be relying on luck today. “Don’t be careless, Whisper.”

“Whisper is…whispering.”

“Can you just help me set this up?” Graham asked. “We’ll have to be quick.”

“Oooh! Congrats on finally joining the sacred practice of leg day!” Whisper said. “Let’s go! Speed is the name of our game!”

(“Actually, we should name our game after some sort of quest, instead,” Gwendolyn said. “Sounds more epic that way.”

“Agreed.”)

With the two of them checking and testing angles, it took hardly a minute to get the decoy set up. It worked okay, in the dim light, though it wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. He balanced it delicately beside the crack that led into the wall, and Whisper helped him make a bunch of different steps in the dirt he’d disturbed with his shovel earlier, making it look like lots of people had gone into the crack instead of just Graham earlier. Maybe it would get the goblins to go in there, giving him a little more time.

“Well. That’s as good as we can do it,” Graham said. “I think. Stars, I hope.”

“Whisper has nothing to add to the conversation.”

“…right, thanks. Come on, then.”

The group huddled together. Graham surveyed his team of friends. This was going to work. It had to. He just had to get them to the door. He felt the outline of the key in his pocket, one last time, just to be sure. Okay. Okay. Okay. Ohhhkaaaaayyyy.

(Gwendolyn and Grandpa watched the mirror king. The little reflection was frozen with uncertainty. Still standing there. Doing nothing. Not at all sure if this idea was actually a good one. Finally, Grandpa said, with a pushing motion as though to get his younger self moving: “I had stalled long enough. I had an idea, and I went and did it.” That got the little mirror king to act.)

“One…two…three!” Graham whirled, hands cupped around his mouth to yell, “Goblins! Goblins, look! Look down there! I think there’s someone down there! Hey! Is that the escaped knight? Hey!”

This wasn’t supposed to work. It was such a dumb idea, so risky and ridiculous—and yet, it absolutely did work. Goblins raced past Graham and the villagers hidden in the shadows behind him, intent on the strange Whisper decoy and the space beyond, and Graham wasted no time. In a hoarse, frantic whisper, he waved them forward. “All right. Go!” He heard paper scrunching as a goblin pounced on the decoy. “Amaya, over here! Forward! Go, go, go! Whisper! You know what to do!”

“What should Whisper do? …it? Oh! It! Running! Whisper can do it!”

But as Graham moved, his pockets—his dear, strained pockets, that had been carrying people around for days—split, as he’d feared they’d might, after all the weight they’d been working under. The jostling of his running was just the last straw. Happily, he had little enough in the pocket that split and lost its contents. Unhappily, it was the one important item he’d moved to its own special spot so he could grab it quickly and easily.

The key to the prison dropped, clattering on the ground, bouncing, teetering over the edge of the spiral staircase, seconds away from falling and landing on a goblin’s head as the crowd below them inspected the Whisper decoy with curious little grunts of uncertainty.

“Grab that key!” Graham yelped, starting to spin back, to get it. But that one yelp was just a little too loud. It echoed. Goblins turned to look, to see, and while he wasn’t exactly eye to eye, it was definitely an eye to helmet sort of moment.

“Pirouette!” Whisper yelled, delighted that he didn’t have to try and be quiet anymore. He whirled back, grabbed the key with a triumphant, “Got it!” and kept charging up the staircase.

Everyone else had nearly gotten to the doors, but Bramble was lagging a bit. Acorn scooped her up and kept going.

Graham slid after his group, boots barely gripping the dusty floor as he went skidding around the corner, grabbing a stalactite to spin himself around faster as the goblins came racing up behind them (the one still glued to the lever was yelling excitedly and pointing out which direction the Daventrians had gone). “Whisper! Over here!” he cried, thumping hard against the door, and the knight threw the key to his king, and Graham slammed it home in the lock. “On the count of three, pull the switches!” he yelped. “Ready? OnetwothreeNOW!”

The prison doors yawned open with a groan. “Run for it!” Graham waved his arms desperately at his friends, shoving them, as the first goblin rounded the corner, spear raised. “Acorn!” It was basically a squeak, but the big knight understood.

“On it!” He grabbed the doors and started yanking them shut. Wood creaked as he fought the levers, splintering under his grip, but he kept pulling, yelling “Get out—!” as he did so. Graham snatched the key out of the lock, shoved it in a (functioning) pocket, and scampered beneath Acorn’s arms just as the doors slammed shut behind him.

Goblins hit the closed doors in a little cascading wave, and the doors shook on their hinges, but they did not open again. “Oooh! Whooo! The bull is back, baby!” Acorn crowed, pumping the air. “Boom! That was awesome! Ahahaha!” He clapped his hands together, wood chips dancing off his arms.

The villagers and king lay in a sprawled little heap beyond the doors, except for Bramble, who sat primly on top of her husband, where Acorn had gently put her down. Her ankles were delicately crossed and her hands rested in her lap. “Oooh, that was fun,” she said. “But let’s not do it again.”

“Agreed,” Graham groaned from somewhere under Muriel’s shawl.

The villagers extricated themselves, shook the dust off, looked at each other, looked at the cave walls still surrounding them. “Well,” Muriel said, straightening her necklaces. “It’s not the freedom I was hoping for exactly, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

Chester looked slyly up at Acorn, and pointed at his foot. "Oh my. It seems I've worn a hole in my sock with all that running. If only someone had carried me. But, you know who I'm not gonna take it to for repairs?"

Acorn turned slowly, the joy in his shoulders drooping. "Huh?"

"That big guy who doesn't have a shop!"

"Wait a minute!"

Chester mused, tapping his toe, "I guess I'll just have to devise a crafty potion to fix it myself. Like a proper wizard ought. Hopefully one with lizard tongue. Mmm...."

"I've had enough of you! A shop doesn't make the artist! The art makes the artist!" 

Graham checked the others. Wente was limping, but trying not to show it, and Amaya had caught her arm on a rock and was bleeding, a bit, but it looked like everyone else was okay. Rattled, definitely. But mostly in one piece. Graham exhaled. That had been…stupidly lucky. Stars. If there was a god keeping track of his luck on an abacus somewhere above them, Graham thought he could hear each bead clacking over into the spent luck category.

Or, rather, that was the sound of goblins.

The goblins behind the prison door were scrambling and clawing at the wood. It kept thumping, rocking on its hinges. Graham figured they probably had more than one key, and the Daventrians had a limited amount of time to get out of here before they got that door open. “We should probably go,” he said. That, at least, was a statement that didn’t require any choices on his part.

“Which way…?”

Graham heard the uncertainty, and the ugly little empty pit in his stomach started gnawing at him again, and he just knew he had to make another choice that would hopefully work, wouldn’t hurt…. He turned away from the trembling door, and he looked, and he saw…

(“Two roads split off from the path. They both looked the same, and I had no idea which to pick.”)

And here he’d been sort of hoping he wouldn’t have to make any more decisions today. This one shouldn’t be hard. Right? But. But it was. Too hard. He stared down each one, trying desperately to remember which one he’d been led down when he’d first come this way. But he’d been tied and tired and confused and upset and there had been so many goblins and it had been dark and…

Minutes were moving faster than they were, and there wasn’t time.

Amaya sidled up to him, her words accompanied by the percussive beat as the goblins charged at the door behind them. “Hey, let’s speed this up, shall we?” She spoke low and soft, but with great urgency, and the rest of the villagers stepped closer anyway so it wasn’t quite as secret as she’d meant it to be. “Last idea went. Uh. Fine. We’re all here, anyway. Go on.”

“Uh.”

“Come on. Make a choice.”

“Um.”

“Despair behind us and two solutions in front of us. Pick one.”

“I…”

“Remember how I said I’d make a great advisor? Like, right now, I advise you to pick one.”

“Ah.”

“I’m all for using your noggin, but indecision is worse than a dumb decision. Come on, Graham,” Acorn said, picking up his startled king and pushing him to the left. “This one’s fine.”

“Whisper agrees! Left is right and right is wrong.”

“That’s ridiculous. Shouldn’t right be right?”

“That’s what they want you to think!”

“But I…wait…no….” Graham tried to turn back—he was supposed to make this choice, he was the king—but Acorn had him in his grip, marching him hastily down the road. Graham’s metal tipped boots clattered against stones as he tried to get his feet back under himself. His arms were pinned to his sides as he was pushed along, and that didn’t feel right, that feeling made his stomach twist unpleasantly, but he couldn’t…

They hurried down the tunnel, too nervous and out of breath from the escape to talk much, but after a few minutes, another fork in the road. Another split.

“Oh, no, we’re not doing this again,” Amaya groaned, as everyone looked to Graham. “Someone else should—”

“No, no. I. Hang on a sec. Let me think this one over,” Graham said, stepping away from Acorn so he couldn’t be grabbed again. He pushed the heavy crown back on his head. If he chose wrong…and these tunnels looked identical too. Like some scribe had simply copied them twice, next to each other. He could have sworn they hadn’t come down such twisting paths the first time he’d been pushed this way.

“Whisper could have taken both paths by now!”

“You’re thinking too hard. Let love guide you,” Bramble said, squeezing Graham’s hand.

“Oh, sweetycakes, you’re just so right,” Wente said, nuzzling her shoulder. “That’s the way, of course.”

“Love isn’t a cardinal direction,” Amaya said flatly.

“It should be,” Wente said, almost offended.

“The scenic route looks nice,” Acorn said.

“They look identical.”

“They both look like they head away from the goblins. That’s the way to go, let me tell ya.”

“Go with your heart.”

“Hurry up, Graham. Patience is not a virtue that blessed Whisper.”

“The answer is right in front of you!”

“Think it through, but quickly, my boy, please! My knees sure will appreciate it!”

“Charge again!”

“Left or right? Right or left?”

“If you can’t think quickly, guess assuredly!”

“This ain’t art, just pick one!”

“Ah, zards!” Graham wailed.

The room stopped chattering. “That’s not very kingly language,” Muriel said.

“But I do like a king of the people,” Chester grinned.

He could feel his eyes growing prickly with frustration, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, near enough to bleed. This was too much. This was like being back in his throne room, that stupid night of chaos, of accidental opposite day, of trumpets and acorns flying everywhere and his choices were mocked and he didn't have a minute to think, not a minute to breathe. And that horrible last idea with the decoy had barely worked--yeah, they were out, they had escaped, but that was by some grace of Daventrian gods, not because his plan had been any good, because stars, it had not been good, it had relied on luck, on slim chance, and even then it had barely worked. They'd nearly been captured again. He'd been captured after that throne room, the first time. The first nightmare. 

He had to make a choice here. Others were offering to make a choice for him, were forcing him into paths that he wasn't sure he wanted—and they meant well, stars hang it, they did, they did, but he couldn't let them. Couldn't accept their help. Because who would he be then? What kind of stupid, weak king? But what kind of stupid, weak king was he already? Anyway? He wasn't good at this. The last plan had been a mess. The throne room had been a mess. They were making choices without him, they didn't need him, shouldn't keep him around, this was dancing on an edge of a knife of his own making, his own fault, his own failures.

Not again, not again, not again. "I can't—I can't..." He stumbled backward, away, away, away. His hands were reaching for that crown. I need some air. I can't. I can't. He was going to drop it in the dirt. He was going to give up, give in, leave. Flee. Again, again. It would be best for everyone, really, surely. Acorn had picked the last one, he could pick this one, he could lead. Or Whisper could do it. But Graham. Graham was so tired. 

So tired.

And they were staring at him.

His split pocket kept splitting. There’d been more in there than just the key, after all. Two coins bounced out. The two he hadn’t spent at the merchant’s (whom he was now realizing he’d forgotten in the prison, oops). One coin with his face, that Wente had given him. One coin with the old queen’s, that he had found in the spider web, lost in the shadows of a forgotten underground maze.

In the stunned silence of the room, the clatter of gold on stone was too loud, and it snapped Graham out of his confusion. From his need to run. Muriel bent down and picked up the old coin. She rubbed it between her fingers. “Ohh,” she said, quietly. “Ohh, where did you find this old thing?”

“Somewhere,” Graham said, distantly, still taut with energy and drive and with nowhere to spend it.

“I haven’t seen her in an age. Edward’s grandmother. Oh, it’s been an age, an age. And there’s you, on this one.” She bent and picked up the new coin, too shiny with lack of use, too clean. Untested. “But the same crest on both, you know, see?”

There was a pause, as everyone stared at her now. Then, she continued: “King bo—Graham. Listen. Your ideas have worked so far, haven’t they? We’re out here now, aren’t we? All in one piece, too. And, more to that, right now, it doesn’t matter which road we take. They all go away from those cells. And that’s right and good. And we’ll talk about queens, and kings, when we’re off the path, away from this. There’s no wrong choice. Not now, and not later. Not for you. Not for her. Not for us. Choose a path, we’ll see it through, and we’ll make it work. All right?”

He nodded, wary and stiff, but…he nodded. The crown bobbled on his forehead.

“Then choose a road, sire.”

“Left is right, and right is wrong,” Graham said, after a deep breath. “We’ll go left.”

“But Whisper’s right, so, right?”

“Chester, I love you more than the sunset itself, but, shut up.”

“Sorry.”

[fixed-signs]

Marzana, Marzana

Marzana, Marzana - Chapter 1

Pairing: Josh x original female character (you read that right if you come back up here halfway through this chapter)

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, drinking, weed, implied sex

Eventual pregnancy and angst, we got slow burn, we got fluff

Word count: 2.7k

Hadley took one look back at the brick apartment building, the last plastic milk crate of records in her hands and a guitar slung on her back. She exhaled, cheeks puffing out, and feeling slightly uncomfortable in the warm Tennessee October. 

She watched the leaves, still attached to the trees sway like the licking flames of a fire. She felt no desire to take anything else. She didn’t need any of it really. Everything in that apartment no longer served her or this strange— constantly parting stage of her life at the moment. 

*

“What an asshole.” She spoke into the phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she drove into a parking spot. 

“Hadley….” Sara on the other end cooed. 

“He tried the ‘I was hurting too’ move, which like, yeah buddy because it was you who was gone all the time taking care of your dying mother.” 

“Pfft, did you tell him that? Like oh yeah, sticking your dick in someone else really screams empathy to me. Oh God! Was she there?!”

“No, no, she wasn’t there….and I let him do most of the talking or groveling or whatever you want to call it. I think she might have realized what a piece he was well before I ever did. But like good for her, ya know?”

“I enjoy your feminism in this situation. He didn’t make a huff about your stuff, did he?”

“He certainly didn’t help me load it up, but clearly I’m all about girl power… The only thing he got in my face about was me taking back the guitar. He was all ‘that’s a gift, you can’t take it back. ‘Mweh’ to me about it.”

“God fuck him.” 

Hadley, stared out the windshield of her car. The glare from the sun making every piece of dust on her dashboard apparent.

“Yeah…” There was a silence, then Hadley gently pulled the phone from her ear while Sara settled a barking dog in the background. “I gotta go.”

“Ok, I’ll see you later.” 

“Oh, no yeah, I just decided to get a hotel room.”

*

Hadley sipped her nearly overflowing double of bourbon and coke and looked at the banner framing the entry way of the patio “Gibson Anniversary Celebration”. Music was blasting, she saw plenty of selfies being taken— She didn’t recognize most of the celebrities smiling on demand next to her coworkers. Hadley subtly danced through the crowd to the some tables to find a seat. She didn’t feel quite up to dancing and figured coworkers were still too starstruck to find any of them on the dance floor quite yet. 

“Ok, but would you rather-“ Sam stood at the end of the table, and shouted, “Ahem, would you rather-“

It didn’t matter, Danny was taking a picture with someone, Jake was busy observing everyone and frankly, was over Sam and tonight, and Josh was trying to scoop a piece of ice on his straw. 

“You know, this is the best ice. The tube kind.” He declared when he managed to thread one on the end of his straw. 

“Josh, shut up!” Sam whined. 

“Yeah, its crushed, fuckhead.” Jake added. 

“Basic bitch-” Josh humored between crunches of ice. 

“Would you rather—“

“Have you heard that chewing ice says something about a man’s sexual prowess?” Josh continued. 

“What on Earth would that have to do with anything?” Jake slid his sunglasses down and proceeded to crunch loudly on piece he scooped out with his fingers from Sam’s drink.

Sam stomped and his eye were about to bulge out of his head. 

Danny sat back down at the end of the booth, knowing he had to intervene without any context, “Ok, what’s the would you rather?” 

“JESUS, I’m getting to it.” Sam squawked, “You know what, no, no, I’m getting another fuckin’ - stronger— drink.”  

The boys booed as Sam left the table. 

Sam was moving gracefully through the large crowd until he was shoved, seemingly out of no where. Before he could catch himself or even glance to see who had pushed him he was on Hadley and Hadley was covered in her drink. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. God- oh here,” He helped her stabilize her footing again. Her platform boots slipping a little in the puddle under her. 

“It’s good, what even happened, are you good?” 

“I’m fine!” Sam began shouting as another song started playing, seemingly louder than the last one. “What were you drinking. I can get you another. And some napkins!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Hadley shook her head.

“Don’t with that. Was it a rum and coke?” 

She crinkled her nose, “Bourbon.” 

“Alright.”

He smiled and Hadley held a hand to her cheek, trying to calm the red flush she felt all over. Luckily most of the drink spilled on her shoes and pants, leaving no truly uncomfortable stickiness on any exposed skin other than her hands. 

*

“Look who I ran in to! It’s Hadley!” Sam announced as he herded Hadley to the table with the rest of the band. 

“It’s you!” Danny played along with the joke. 

“It’s you!” Hadley pretend fawned over Danny. “It’s been so long!” 

“Hi, I’m Josh,” Josh held out his hand. 

“I know, we go way back.” She played along and shook his hand anyways. 

Jake quietly chuckled, observing as Sam pulled up another chair on his side of the table for her. 

“How did you get dragged over here?” Jake piped up. 

“I spilled her drink, and I’m being a gentleman.” Sam answered quickly ending on defensive. 

“Oh well, that’s good, I thought you had just wet your pants. Urination as the professionals call it.” Josh said. 

“Where the fuck are you from? What is that accent?” Hadley quipped back.

Danny shook his head, “English isn’t his first language—“

“We only let him learn his English by watching Jackass.” Jake popped another piece of ice in his mouth, Josh silently mocked his brother’s crunching face, it all was getting entertaining for Hadley. 

“We’re from Michigan.” Sam announced. 

“Oh well…did you- did you know that trade routes from New York brought that accent to Michigan- but no one else here sounds like that…so why do you sound like that?“ 

“Yeah really Joshua? Can you believe we are identical twins?” Jake plucked his sunglasses off and hooked them on his shirt collar.

“Yeah he sounds normal,” Hadley pointed a thumb at Jake, “That explains even less.” 

The table laughed. A new song started Sam and Danny locked eyes. They both began to stand and dance at each other. Danny mouthed the words between sips of his drink. 

“It’s a bop.” Sam and Danny said in unison, clearly an inside joke, and they left to the dance floor that was slowly filling up. 

“So who are you now?” Jake asked. 

“Marzana Hadley.” She held out her hand to Jake, a playful sarcasm in her voice now, “luthier extraordinaire.” 

“Oh? Jake Kiszka,” Jake saw her eyebrows knit together, he gave her hand a light squeeze. “Lead guitar. Of Greta Van Fleet.” 

She avoided eye contact with Jake, as if it’d hide the bashfulness suddenly overcoming her. She’d heard of them— this man’s face was in several pictures around the office and headquarters. Hadley glanced at Jake again, a red light coming from the dance floor haloed in his hair. Josh was already spurting as their equally calloused hands slid from each other.

“Josh Kiszka, yes, Greta Van Fleet’s lead sing-er.” He emphasized for humor, “What do you do for Gibson?” 

“Yeah Marzana, what do you do for Gibson?”

Hadley cleared her throat, her body still flushed from embarrassment, “It’s Hadley. The rockstars interviewing me? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Am I getting the rockstar treatment??”

They both chuckled, “Sorry, no no.” Jake apologized. 

“Did you know,” Josh mimicked her from earlier, “The throat is the 5th chakra. Yours sounds very blocked.”

“You must know all about throat health being a sing-er. AndI just- wow, thank you. The best most heartfelt compliment I’ve gotten in weeks.”

“That’s not nearly as interesting as her linguistics analysis of your annoying ass.” Jake said after a sip of beer. He shook it and listened to any liquid sloshing. Empty.

“Any other esoteric traits you’d like to criticize? I’m a sad Pisces, so go easy.” 

“Ah, well I think your Sanpaku eyes are wonderful. What has you so weary in this life?”

“Josh….” Jake huffed as he stood, “What the fuck man.” 

“Was that a pick up line? Because it’s a bad one.”

“It wasn’t, but I’ll work on it.” 

Hadley rolled her eyes, but was startled as someone abruptly grabbed her shoulders. It was a coworker, who was clearly tipsy and giggly. 

“Hey girl!” The girl hugged around Hadley’s shoulders, pinning her in an awkward sitting-side-back-hug. 

“You sound like you’re having a good time.” Hadley smile, but pleaded for help with her eyes at either of the boys.

“This is Mike from Iowa I’ve been telling y’all about.” her southern drawl was thick as she held out her hand for everyone to see, “Covid love.” 

She hummed and opened her eyes, focusing way too hard on Hadley. It was the alcohol, but it was still jarring compared to the vibe of the rest of the table. 

“Most romantic of pandemics. Spanish flu has nothing on you guys.” Hadley chattered, it cause Josh to choke mid sip of his drink. 

“What? Anywhose, I’m so sorry about your mama and her cancer and all. God, and your breakup? I’m sorry girly. What a year for you.”

“Uh…yeah…..thanks…..” Dread was all over Hadley’s voice— no her entire being. 

Jake and Josh looked at each other. Jake silently was screaming ‘I told you so’ behind his eyes as Josh, unneeded as Josh felt like a true asshole for calling this stranger sad. Hadley just wanted to sink into her chair and not have to pretend the niceties, albeit genuine, would stop. As if manifestation was real the friend realized who the twins were. 

Hadley slinked away with her drink to find obscurity with Sam and Danny- well really anyone who didn’t truly know her, on the dance floor. 

*

Jake and Josh slipped away after some photos and were in line at the bar. Josh bobbing along to the music in his spot, Jake swaying and shifting weight between his feet. He regretted wearing brand new boots.

“You should make a move.” Josh looked towards his friends and Hadley on the dance floor. 

They were having a dance off with cheesy dance moves mixed with square dancing moves. All laughing uncontrollably at each new move the other presented. Cheering and clapping. 

Jake looked at his feet, “I don’t know, man. She’s cool.”

“Yeah she’s fucking cool, dude. I know it’s been a while.” 

“Not since Jita.” 

“So a year?” 

“It’s only been 9 months and it’s not like you’re out there making moves either since-“

“I don’t do rebounds like you.” Josh smacked Jake in the chest.

Jake’s body flinched and he managed to stop his arm from coming up and delivering a swat back, “I don’t ‘do rebounds’ either. Jesus.” He made air quotes. 

Jake took another look at Hadley, now doing the Macarena very off beat to the music while Sam pretend lassoed Danny. 

“How the hell is Sam the only one with a partner out of all of us right now?” Jake muttered. 

“I dunno, but it’s fucked up.” Josh agreed. They clinked drinks.

*

“Shit,” Hadley groaned standing in front of the hotel as the uber pulled away behind her. 

“What’s up?” Jake was already sweating. 

“I- I was moving today and I didn’t have time to get all of my stuff out of my car to my room. Do you mind if I—?”

“Not at all, I can help.” 

Jake followed silently behind Hadley to her car. She popped the trunk and Jake’s eyes widened at the collection of records sitting there. 

“It’s like a lot, it’s just bad to let them sit in changing temperatures and it’s already like 20 degrees colder than when I left. It’s find if you don’t want—”

“I- I get it.” He smiled and began to stack two milk crates. 

*

“Thanks for the cab, by the way.” Hadley pushed the hotel luggage caddy, now full of records to her room; Jake holding on the back and watching for any runaway items when they took turns out the elevator and down hallways. 

It was actually much simpler and less mortifying to slip out of the party with Hadley. Sam had left to FaceTime his girlfriend after her show. Danny and Josh seemingly vanished, almost an Irish goodbye until Jake got a text saying ‘Joshua and I are meeting Alex and bar hopping’ from Danny. 

“No worries. The least I could do after you flamed Josh like that.” 

She let an airy “ha” spit from her lips while she waited for the light on the doorknob to turn green. Hadley pulled out her key card and held the door open for Jake to push the cart in.

“Speaking of flaming people, did you see Slash dancing?” 

They both erupted in laughter. Jake gently shut the heavy hotel door behind him.

He scanned the room: your average beige walls with an overly bright accent wall, a grey-blue bed spread, but the wall with the TV and mini fridge was stacked with even more vinyls and two guitars. One was in a case leaned against the wall upright while the other was laid across the arm chair at the very corner of the room. 

“Do you want to listen to anything?” Hadley offered as she balanced on one foot un-doing her boot. 

“Sure.” Jake grinned and parked the caddy.

“Cool, I’ll set up.” 

Jake flipped through the contents of the collection. Hadley had opened a box and was now on her hands and knees trying to reach an outlet near the bed. She had placed a record player on the night stand, cords trailing out the back to two speakers. Hadley stood back and admired the work before going to her purse and opening a cigarette case. It held several skinny and neatly wrapped joints. 

“I’m gonna- do you-“ She said voice creaking, mechanically, nervously. 

Jake shook his head yes, Hadley nodded and dug out a lighter from another pocket of her bag. She cracked a window, a joint now hanging lazily out of her mouth. Hadley walked over to Jake, she lit up and the familiar herbal smelled wafted to him.

“You decide on anything yet?” 

“This,” Jake held a record between them. In a smooth exchange Hadley took it from his hands and he took the joint from her lips. 

“I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the Arctic Monkeys.” Jake wheezed after a drag, the record player hummed and scratched before a heavy, slow beat filled the room.

Hadley sat on the foot of the bed and flicked ashes into stout white coffee cup from the desk. Jake slung the guitar without a case over his shoulders, the joint was passed back to him as he placed himself next to her. The mattress sinking slightly with his weight. Jake strummed and fiddled on the instrument, tuning a string, then strumming a few notes, matching the song. 

“Did you make this?” Hadley nodded at Jake and watched his hands fiddle along the neck, “It’s beautiful.” He said, pausing and staring at Hadley. 

She was blushing. Taking the joint out of Jakes mouth delicately between her pointer and middle finger, “One of the first ones I ever made.” She said after exhaling smoke. 

The room fell quiet between songs, a deafening silence. Hadley flicked the ashes into the cup one more time, her head spinning as the high was starting to hit. She offered the joint back to Jake, holding it near his face. His eyes were heavier than before. He gazed at her faded lipstick mouth he grabbed her wrist out of the way and they both crashed into each other at the same time. 

[rebeccccccaaa]

Ѕтдсч'ѕ Мом | Рдгт Тшо

________________________________

ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ:

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Nat has you all to the herself just the for weekend. And she’s gonna take every second for granted.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: milf!nat again bc i luv her, so major age gap (reader 21+), pool sex, stacy almost catching y’all, somnophilia/waking the r up with sex, tiny tiny bit of angst

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I’m having writer’s block atm but i did have this in the back of my head. Might do a part three?

_________________________________

The white sunshine woke Nat from her peaceful sleep slightly irritating her but when her eyes landed upon your tranquil form beside her, she forgot what put her in a bad mood in the first place. She brushed the hair from your face listening to the quiet snores with a small smile on her face.

Last night was incredible for her. She couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked under her; squirming and whining as she drilled her hips into you. She hadn’t remembered the last time she’d shared her bed with someone she cared about. You made her feel young again. Reminded her what it felt like to be desired, to be craved by another woman again.

She couldn’t resist her hands roaming across your soft belly pulling you closer to her warm body. She kissed the side of your head down to your ear nibbling softly on your earlobe making your stir in your sleep. You turned your head to face her and she brushed her nose along yours before pulling away to see a faint smile on your sleepy face.

A mischievous idea popped into the older woman’s head and before she could dwell on it much longer she moved her body down your naked one before settling between your thighs. She hadn’t gotten a taste like she had wished for last night but this would be the first of many times she was going to get to.

She kissed your hips and gently caressed the inside of your thighs softly. Your knees pushed back subconsciously allowing her to settle more comfortably. She leaned down kissing the inside of your thighs softly pulling sighs and moans from you already. She kept her eyes trained on you as she licked your pussy.

Your hips wiggled and bucked forward into her mouth; your sighs and whimpers grew louder at the feeling. You thought you were dreaming. Feeling the older woman between your thighs felt surreal. You woke up hazy quickly registering the beautiful redhead that buried her tongue deep inside you.

Your hands found home in her red and blonde locks that you spent many nights dreaming about tugging on. Her big green eyes were trained on yours with nothing but a mischievous and lustful glint in them. She inserted a finger past your folds; it felt cold and soft. Your body unable to resist shuddering.

"Nat," you sighed, keeping your fingers buried in her long locks.

"доброе утро," she hummed against your skin making your stomach tighten with pleasure.

She skillfully added another finger stretching you out just a bit but nowhere near as much as her cock did the night before. She spread your folds with her outer fingers before leaning down again flicking her tongue against your bundle of nerves. She moved her fingers quicker in and out you wrapping her lips around your clit sucking harshly.

"Fuck, that feels so good, mommy," you whined, wiggling your hips wildly.

Nat brought her forearm up, resting firmly on your hips to steady your wild movements. She didn't slow down her pace as you got closer and closer to your release. Your moans grew louder as did your whimpers and whines. Your body shook in pleasure as you fell over the edge, crying Nat's name in ecstasy.

You slowly came down from your high in a pan`ting mess. Your skin felt hot and sticky, the sheets clinging on to you. Your tummy flipped and fluttered when you laid your eyes on Natasha. She brought her fingers up to her lips sucking lewdly on them keeping her eyes trained on you slowly crawling back over your body.

"Good morning, красотка," she hummed against your lips before kissing you properly.

"What a way to wake a girl up," you giggled, cupping her face in your hands.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You just looked so fucking sweet lying there, practically waiting for me to ruin all over again," she whispered huskily.

"Nat," you breathed out.

"Y/n," she whispered with just as much desperation in her voice as yours did.

Reality struck suddenly. This was the mother of one of your closest friends, your best friend. she practically twice your age and here you were naked in her bed while her daughter was away. This was so inappropriate. What would happen if you were to get caught by Stacy, finding her best sleeping with her mom? She would kill you, never trust you again.

"This is wrong," you turned your head away.

"Then why does it feel so good? So right?" she ran nose along your jaw and around the shell of your ear.

"Fuck," her cold fingers grazed your soft skin making you burst into chills.

"Just for the weekend, please," she begged.

"Let me have you all to myself for the weekend and when Stacy comes back, we can pretend this never happened. I promise."

"Nat," you whispered.

"Please," Nat begged.

"Just for the weekend?"

She nodded with sadness in her eyes. You pressed your lips to hers momentarily before Nat slowly crawled out of bed. She disappeared into the bathroom quickly coming back out with a fluffy white robe wrapped around her beautiful body. She was ready to walk out but stopped in the doorway turning back to you with a coy smile.

“What do you want for breakfast, baby?”

-

The day went by and Nat refused to take her hands off you. Making breakfast ended with you on your knees, head between her thighs as she patted your head drinking from her mimosa; of course having to put that down and steady herself from how good your tongue felt. Having lunch ended with your hands tied behind your back bent over the couch as she pound her faux cock into you from behind. And it hasn't even surpassed one pm.

The sun shone brightly and you and Nat dressed to spend a couple hours by the pool. She wore a stunner leopard print bikini that you couldn’t help but gock at. She wore a straw sun hat and carried a small book with her. Her curves and long legs on display made your tummy fluttered. You felt unimpressive and somewhat self conscious wearing a simple white bikini.

“Such a beaut,” she smiled, pressing her lips against yours. Well, that certainly made you feel better. She walked hand in yours outside, settling down on a lawn chair. She pulled you on top of her, your knees falling either side of her hips. Her delicate hands rubbed softly over your thighs and hips to cup your cheeks.

“God, I could just kiss you all day,” she grinned.

“Really taking this weekend for granted aren’t ya?” you giggled.

“If this is the only time I get to pretend you're mine, I'll take every second I have for granted,” she whispered.

You looked into her teary eyes, tears building up on your own. It’s not that you didn’t want her just as bad, what will people say if a very popular and successful billionaire business woman in New York City was found dating a significantly younger woman, her daughter’s best friend to be exact, she’d be torn to shreds by the public. That’s not fair to her, or to Stacy.

“I- I’m gonna take a dip,” you smiled softly. Nat could see the cogs whirring in your pretty little head but she knew it wasn’t something to talk about right now; so she didn’t push.

“Kiss,” she pulled you back to her.

You smiled in the kiss before walking over to the pool swaying your hips a little extra knowing she’d be eyeing you up and down. Nat bit her lip and watched you slowly walk into the pool soaking your gorgeous skin that practically glowed under the sun. She knew what game you were trying to play so she shoved her face in her book for the time being.

A few moments went by and you just relaxed by the edge of the pool soaking in the sun and the view that the backyard gave you. You turned your head to look for Nat seeing as this had probably been the longest she’d gone today without taking you in some way, but she wasn’t lounging where she had been for the last twenty minutes.

“Miss me already?” she said walking back outside with two drinks in her hand and a smirk on her face.

“Well, considering you haven’t tried to jump my bones for the tenth time today I was beginning to get worried you might’ve gotten tired of me,” you retorted.

“Hon, I could never get tired of you,” she handed you the glass.

“What is it?”

“Just a pina colada,” she smiled.

“You don’t strike me as a woman who likes to drink pina coladas,” you grinned taking a sip.

“Well, no. I’m Russian. I like vodka; straight,” she said with a thick heavy Russian accent, making you giggle.

“But lucky for you, I’m not,” she wiggled her brows making your eyes widen momentarily before bursting into laughter.

“That was a good one,” you giggled.

“Come here,” she chuckled.

You pressed your lips against hers moving perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. She pressed your back against the edge of the pool slipping her tongue last your lips. She caged you in her arms and yours wrapped around her small waist pulling her body flushed against you.

“God, so fucking sweet,” she whisepred tasting the remnants of the fruit drink you just drank.

Her fingers dipped in the water tracing the waistline of your bikini bottoms. She curled her finger over them pulling them down and you watched them float to the surface gasping when her finger grazed between your thighs.

"красотка, I can feel how wet you've gotten. And I know it's not the water," she nibbled on your earlobe.

"Oh, Nat," you moaned breathlessly.

She pushed her finger past your folds, instantly feeling your walls clench with need. She circled your clit expertly with her thumb, pressing her lips back on yours desperately. You brought your hands up and playfully flicked her sun hat off before wrapping your arms around her neck, arching your chest into hers.

Your leg wedged between her legs and she slowly grinded on your thigh. Her lips went to your neck softly sucking and biting the delicate skin as her fingers moved quicker and quicker stroking your velvety walls perfectly, chasing your release for you.

That was something you quickly noticed about her. Nat was an extreme giver. She always went out of her way to make you come undone for her. You had tasted her already but you had yet had a chance to have your own way with her. As much as the thought alone made you tingle, she always beat you bending you over whatever surface was available, the bed, the couch, the counter, anywhere taking you however she deemed appropriate from behind.

"Shit, I'm gonna- Fuck!" you squeaked.

"Come on, baby. Come all over mommy's fingers. Look at me," she demanded, her hips grinding wildly along your thigh chasing her own orgasm too.

You stared intimately into her eyes as your stomach tightened and your legs shook. If you weren't floating between the wall and her body, without a doubt your knees would've buckled sending you to the floor. You grip tightened around her neck pulling her forehead against yours as you felt yourself topple over the edge. Your body reaches nirvana as you cry her name.

Nat watched you with pure adoration and an open mouth as she came on your thigh. When you both eased back to reality her lips immediately found themselves back on yours. You breathed heavily through your nose and when she pulled away you couldn't help but chuckle.

"What?"

"You're addicted to kissing me," you giggled.

"I can't help it, красотка. Taste so sweet," she bit her lip.

"Let me grab some towels, baby."

Nat went inside leaving wet footprints along the house. She'll clean that up later. She grabbed a bundle of towels for you after putting on her fluffy white robe she usually wore. You stayed in the pool still breathing heavily waiting for her to return with those towels. Seeing as the pool wasn't necessarily as 'clean' as it was moments ago you opted to just get out and wait on a chair instead.

Suddenly, on her way back to the pool the front door opened and Stacy and her boyfriend walked in arguing. Nat's eyes widened and she looked at you who stood butt naked in her pool. You heard the two's sudden appearance, freezing in fear before realizing you needed to get dressed before either one catches you.

You jumped back in the pool treading the water to grab your bottoms that practically floated away and Nat tried her best to distract them for the time being until you were decent.

"Hi, you two are back so soon?" Nat said with a bit of annoyance in her voice.

"Jason booked the hotel room for one night instead of three," Stacy said frustratingly.

"I didn't mean to," he responded shyly.

"Can Jason just stay with us for the rest of the weekend?" Stacy asked.

"Sure," Nat sighed.

"Is everything ok, mom?"

"Yeah," No it's not.

You put your bottoms on overhearing the conversation. Your heart sank. Was it over? Did your glee filled weekend with your forbidden love end already? You looked sorrowfully at Nat who too looked to be in complete frustration and anger.

“Did I interrupt anything?” Stacy chuckled clearly joking but unbeknownst to her she really did.

“Oh, no. We were just tanning by the pool,” Nat shrugged with a half hearted smile. You hesitantly walked towards Nat seeing as she still held all the towels. You could still feel her; her lips on your neck, her fingers between your thighs, her core grinded against your thigh, her breasts pressed against yours, fuck. Fuck Stacy and her boyfriend coming home early.

“What happened?” Jason asked passing by you towards the pool.

“What do you mean?” Nat asked, handing you the towel.

“There’s something gooey, like white slime in the pool,” Jason called out and your eyes widened; you came pretty hard in Nat’s fingers but you didn’t know it was that much.

“We uh… we were having a drink, spilled some in the pool. Hence why we’re getting out,” Nat lied.

“Want me to call a pool guy?” Stacy asked.

“The filter should take care of it,” she waved off.

“Are, uh- are you kids hungry?” Nat redirected the conversation.

“Starving,” Stacy chuckled.

Stacy and Jason went to the kitchen leaving you and Nat alone for a minute. You couldn’t say anything afraid your voice would betray you. You went to leave, accepting that this fantasy you indulge the past twenty four hours, the best twenty four hours you’ve ever had, was over.

“Y/n,” Nat grabbed your arm as you tried to walk away.

“The weekend’s over, Nat. I’m sorry,” you whispered tears brimming your eyes.

“I’m gonna shower,” you said before walking away; Nat letting you go considering there wasn’t really anything else to say.

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge grabbing some ingredients and placing them on the counter.

“What happened to Y/n?” Stacy asked.

“She’s gonna take a shower. She’ll be back,” she responded, still holding a solemn expression.

“Are you sure everything’s ok, mom?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

========================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

@missroro

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (Natasha’s Fics)

@natasha-danvers

@fayhar

@mitchiesdungeon

[writerpeach]

Blind Date

LOONA Choerry X Male Reader

8153 words

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

“Oppa, how long has it been since you’ve dated anyone?” Son Hyejoo asked, seemingly out of the blue as she loudly slurped on her milkshake, stirring the leftover contents with her large straw.

“I don’t know, Hyejoo. I don’t keep track of things like that.”

Hyejoo pointed her strawberry milkshake directly at you, unsatisfied with your answer. “Then that means it’s been too long,” she said, her triangle lips forming a pout.

You rubbed your forehead, knowing once she brought something up she wasn’t going to drop it.

“Why do I need to date anyone when I’m lucky enough to rail you every day?” you playfully replied, causing her nearly to choke on her frozen drink.

“Oppa, not so loud!” she said, kicking your shin. “I won’t be around all the time now that I’m starting a new job. And you need some variety in your life. You’re going to get tired of fucking me.”

“That’s impossible.”

You couldn’t say you agreed with her on that. Hyejoo was the perfect friend with benefits, beautiful big tits and perfect thick thighs, the prettiest mouth and the tightest pussy that you spilled yourself inside several times a day, you couldn’t imagine needing anything else.

“I know just the person to set you up with, oppa. She’s single and one of my closest friends, I think you’ll like her.”

“That’s really not necessary-”

Hyejoo wasn’t going to take no for an answer, refusing to back down as she grabbed her phone and swiped through it.

Finding what she was looking for she showed you her screen, an equally gorgeous girl that looked the same age as her with innocent eyes and a sweet smile.

“She’s cute, but you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, oppa. It’s time for you to stop being so needy and find a girlfriend,” Hyejoo said.

“Needy? Unless I’m forgetting something you’re the one who loves slobbering on my cock first thing in the morning,” you said.

“Hey! It’s called breakfast, and it’s not my fault you get so hard in the morning.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it is,” you said, as you were met with another kick to the shins.

“Ow!”

“It’s settled, I’ll set you two up on a blind date.”

“Blind date? But you just showed me her picture,” you said, tilting your head in confusion.

Hyejoo sighed audibly. “You’re hopeless, oppa. Don’t you want to know what she looks like?”

“O-of course, but-”

“No buts, oppa. Except hers, her butt is very nice,” she giggled, finishing up her milkshake.

“Don’t worry, she’s very sweet, I think you’ll get along well. Her name is Yerim and she always puts out.”

✦✦

“You look good, oppa,” Hyejoo said as she fixed the collar of your shirt.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the back of your pants as you took one more look in the mirror

“You smell good too. I told you that cologne was a panty-dropper," she said as her lips curled in a smirk.

You sighed loudly. “Hyejoo, I’m not meeting this girl just to get laid. You wanted me to get a girlfriend, right?”

"No, I'm pretty sure you wanted this, actually-"

Hyejoo pressed a finger against your lips. "Shush, oppa. Are you nervous?”

“Y-yes, it’s been years since I’ve been on a date.”

“Wanna have a quickie before? Burn all that stress all inside me?” Hyejoo jokingly said.

“...Are you serious?”

“Of course not, you can’t be dependent on me anymore, oppa. Plus, you need to save that load for Yerim.”

“Hyejoo!”

She smiled mischievously and patted your bottom, making sure nothing was out of place for your date.

“Have some confidence oppa, you’ll do great. Yerim will love you. Now get going, you don’t want to be late.”

✦✦

It was unusual for Hyejoo to put in this much effort, typically spending her days lazily on the couch checking her phone.

Everything was planned carefully. Hyejoo had picked the restaurant based on your favorite foods, the time, and the day, even showing up to your place an hour before to make sure you looked your best.

Keeping up with the notion of this being mostly a blind date, Hyejoo didn’t tell you much about Yerim. They shared the same age, although Yerim was months younger. They had a similar body type and lighter hair, and if you didn’t know any better you could have mistaken her for a younger sister.

You were still nervous about the date, but trusted Hyejoo’s judgement and hoped you were about to waste this opportunity that you had been given to meet a new girl. You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the taxi and headed into the restaurant, trying to calm your shaky hands.

The restaurant was larger than expected looking from the outside, equipped with a bar and seating area as you scanned around for your date.

“Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” One of the hostesses asked, but before you had a chance to answer you heard an adorable voice interrupting.

“Over here!”

You were quickly blindsided by a cute girl that matched the picture that Hyejoo had shown you, abruptly wrapping her arms around in a tight hug.

She had a petite frame with brown hair, a tint lighter than Hyejoo and wore a modest black dress and heels with her hair styled perfectly.

“You’re Hyejoo’s friend right?” she asked, the smile on her face brighter than the sun.

“It would be a little awkward if I wasn’t now wouldn’t it?” you teased, gently nodding in response.

“Oh, well if you weren’t then I would just be hugging a cute stranger,” she said. “I’m Yerim.”

Cute? You thought to yourself as you were broadsided by this ball of happiness. “Come on, let’s eat!” she said, grabbing your hand as the hostess led you to your table.

You were both seated at a romantic candle-lit booth, letting Yerim sit down first as you took in the atmosphere of the restaurant. Hyejoo had picked the perfect place.

The waiter handed out menus and filled glasses to the brim with ice water as you looked over the laundry list of food, unsure what you were in the mood for.

“What’s good here?” Yerim asked the waiter, batting her eyelashes as her vocal tone grew higher.

“Our sushi and steak platter is very popular here. We have several different types to try paired with our signature sauces.”

“Steak? I love steak!” Yerim said, her mouth salivating just thinking about it.

“Me too. And sushi,” you said, as Yerim nodded to the waiter.

“I’ll bring it right out then,” the waiter said, scurrying away with a polite bow.

“I can’t wait!” Yerim said, licking her lips as she carefully unfolded and placed her napkin on her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you. Hyejoo has told me a lot about you!” she said, keeping a beautiful smile etched on her lips.

“Oh, has she? That seems a bit unfair, she didn’t tell me much about you. You’re much cuter than the picture she showed me.”

Yerim giggled as she opened her straw, placing it inside her glass and playing around with the ice cubes before taking a small sip, careful not to mess up her lip gloss.

The two girls were quite the contrast to each other. Hyejoo wasn’t one to care about most things, you found it difficult to pry her away from her gaming chair for anything but food and sex. Yerim on the other hand was hanging on your every word, finding any word you said the most interesting thing in the world without a hint of dishonesty.

Quicker than expected the food arrived, and you both dove in without hesitation, armed with chopsticks like a hunter stalking a prey.

The two opposing foods meshed perfectly. Raw sushi made with fish so fresh it might as well have been served directly out of the ocean, complimenting tender meat that literally melted in your mouth, cooked to perfection and seasoned, salted without excess. You swore you heard Yerim moaning out loud as she took her first bite.

Sharing food with a girl so full of energy was a wonderful experience, her company only adding to the delicious flavor. You were so focused on the fresh sushi that you barely had the capacity to register Yerim unapologetically taking the last piece of steak quicker than a deadly samurai and shoving it into her mouth proudly.

“Ah, you really must be Hyejoo’s friend,” you said sarcastically, frowning at her meat thievery.

"Mmm! There's nothing I love more than juicy meat in my mouth," Yerim said, without a hint of subtlety to her words.

She shamelessly went in for another piece of sushi, trying to add another piece of loot to her food heist as you quickly blocked her chopsticks with your own, denying her the satisfaction as you claimed the last spicy tuna roll for your own.

“Hey! That one was my favorite!” she protested, pursing her lips as her cheeks puffed as she watched the claimed prize disappearing into your mouth.

“Mine too! It was delicious,” you boasted, wiping your lips with the cloth napkin before folding it back on your lap. “I’m sorry, it was rude of me not to ask if you wanted the last piece.”

Yerim wasn’t one to stay mad for long, unfolding her arms as the signature brightness returned to her face. “The steak was better anyways,“ she said, giggling and sticking her tongue out.

Time flew by as you learned more about Yerim, hours had felt like minutes as they passed,

ending the meal with the biggest slice of cheesecake you had ever seen.

The waiter came by to drop off the bill as you scooped it up, not bothering to look at the total as the time spent with such an adorable human was priceless.

“Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” Yerim said, and you couldn’t quite tell if she was teasing you or not.

Leaving a generous tip, you walked Yerim outside the restaurant, both of you equally full from both the delicious food company as the temperature had dropped, the cool crisp air blowing every which way.

“Thank you for a fun night, Yerim. I’ll let Hyejoo know she picked well.”

Yerim’s cheeks reddened and tilted her head down shyly. “Ending the night so soon?” Yerim said, the disappointment in her voice clear as the night sky.

“Well, it’s getting late and I wouldn’t want to keep you up.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, silly,” she said, hitting your shoulder as the wind blew through her beautiful hair. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look even more gorgeous, illuminating her milky white skin.

Yerim closed the distance little by little until your noses were almost touching, letting you see the color in her beautiful round eyes.

“I had a really fun night too, but it doesn’t have to end here you know...” Yerim said, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

Yerim was practically throwing herself at you as you gulped, swallowing down saliva nervously.

“Aren’t you going to invite a cute girl back to your place?” she abruptly said, taking charge of the situation.

You snapped out of it and weren’t going to let Hyejoo’s efforts go to waste. “O-of course. Would you like to go back to my place, Miss Yerim?”

“Of course! I thought you would never ask!”

The short taxi ride back to your place was filled with palpable sexual tension, neither of you muttering a word since you both left the restaurant. Yerim opted for her actions to speak for her as she rubbed your thigh the whole time.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and held the door open for Yerim as she stepped inside, swiveling her head as she looked around. She kicked her heels off and rubbed her feet, happy to be freed of them as her bare feet walked on the carpet.

“You have such a nice place. It’s cleaner than I expected.”

You didn’t know what that meant as you got comfortable, slipping your shoes off as you grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine,” she replied, awkwardly standing in the middle of the living room until you gestured for her to take a seat. Yerim sat down excitedly, pulling her dress down and crossed her legs as you sat down next to her.

Yerim turned her body towards you and placed a hand on your knee, her full attention yours for the taking as her bright doe eyes lit up.

“This was the first blind date I’ve been on,” Yerim said, leaning in close enough that you could smell her cherry shampoo.

“Me too. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes! I’m still full from all that steak.”

You felt weak in the knees at Yerim’s beauty, the possibility that such a beautiful girl existed seemed to be good to be true. You hesitated to make the first move, but Yerim had it covered as she mounted your lap, wrapping her legs around your waist.

You felt the electricity in the air as Yerim’s lips brushed against yours, meeting for the first time as the sweet taste of her entered your mouth, reminding you of an unforgettable candy.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, the kiss breaking after just a few seconds, leaving you longing for more after just a tease.

“Keep kissing me and I’ll let you see how pretty the rest of me is,” Yerim said, once again without any subtlety. Your hands snaked around her slim waist as your lips met again, her tongue introducing itself and playing around with your own.

“Not bad,” Yerim said as she came up for air, her eyes drunk on lust already. This close you were able to distinguish all the features of her face, her dead drop gorgeous eyes, her cute nose, her luscious lips, it was all a complete package.

“You’re really pretty, Yerim,” you said, complimenting her again as her face reddened and the pale color of her cheeks faded.

“T-thank you,” Yerim said, running a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

“I wasn’t planning on dating anytime soon, but Hyejoo talked me into it. I even got this new dress for the occasion.”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Thank you! I think it’ll look even better on your floor, though,” Yerim said, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

You had no response in return, suddenly rendered speechless but her forwardness.

“It’s my first time. You’ll be gentle, won’t you?” Yerim asked, the innocence in her sparkling eyes shining through.

“W-wait, really?” you asked. Hyejoo didn’t certainly mention something so vital, and Yerim had just dropped this so casually on you that you didn’t know how to react.

“Isn’t it every guy's fantasy to pop a girl’s cherry?” Yerim asked, as she bit the tip of her fingernail.

You scrambled for words to find when Yerim began giggling uncontrollably, trying to save the last of her charade as she placed her hand over her mouth.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Yerim said, as you felt all the color fading from your face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually a virgin. I am a good girl though,” she said, as she started grinding herself on your lap.

“Are you? I don’t think this is what good girls do, Yerim,” you said, grabbing her waist to hold her in place.

“Of course! I’m always a good girl…”

“We’ll see about that.”

Yerim’s expression never changed, her eyes keeping the same innocent look in them as if trying to convince you of her words. You moved her hair out of the way and kissed her neck in several places, diving in and gently sucking on the sensitive skin that you found there, causing Yerim to gasp loudly.

“Take me to the bedroom. I think you’re getting excited,” she teased, as blood had begun flowing to your pants, causing an erection to form that she had felt.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, her gorgeous face a hair's breadth away as you lose yourself in her eyes.

Yerim nodded without hesitation, cupping both sides of your face and swiping her tongue against your lips, taking one more tender kiss, the taste of her lips lingering.

“Yes, I want it. I want you to fuck me,“ she whispered into your ear, her expression finally changing as her eyes opened wide. The innocence was gone, swallowed up by lust as she dismounted your lap and stretched her arm out as you led her to the bedroom.

“Wow, so this must be where you and Hyejoo have all your fun together?” she said, exploring the large bedroom with her eyes.

“Here, the bathroom, the shower, the couch, the kitchen counter…”

Yerim feigned surprise for a moment, stopping at the foot of the bed. “Where are we going to have fun together?”

“Wherever you would like.”

“We can start here,” Yerim said, closing the distance and went in for another makeout session as her slender fingers unbuttoned your shirt, fingers tracing your chest.

“Hyejoo left the part out about you having such a nice body,” Yerim said as she planted a wet kiss on your chest, slipping your shirt off your body as she tossed it away.

“Can’t let her spoil everything about me can we?” you said, exploring her body with your hands, cupping her backside with both hands and grabbing a handful of cheeks.

“It’s my turn then,” Yerim said, turning away from you and letting you see the backside of her little black dress. “Help a girl out?”

You let out a deep breath as you approached, grabbing the top of her zipper’s dress and pulled it down in one smooth movement, exposing her bare back. Yerim turned back around with the shyest of smiles, slipping the dress off her body as it piled at her feet.

Yerim rested her hands on her wide hips, presenting her tight body that was more mouthwatering than the meal you shared earlier. Underneath her dress she had on a cute purple bra, showing a hint of cleavage with matching underwear as she spun around and let you see her the thin piece of fabric nestled in between her delicious asscheeks.

The curves of her body competed with that of Hyejoo minus a smaller chest, competing where it mattered with delicious succulent thighs that you couldn’t wait to get your hands on.

“Like what you see?”

“I do. Is this what good girls wear?” you asked as you pulled her in close, hands wandering around before finding her backside again, squeezing her ass firmly.

“Y-yes! I’ll show you what a good girl I can be,”

Her eyes were filled with excitement as she kept them on you the entire time as she slowly lowered to her knees, staring at the bulge in your pants now at eye level.

“Can I?” Yerim asked with widened eyes, demonstrating her ability to wait for permission as she patiently waited. You gave the go ahead with a simple nod, and she swiftly undid your pants, yanking them down to your ankles as the bulge in your boxers became more prominent.

Yerim was quick to free your shaft from its constraints, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your boxers as she divested them from your body. Blood had rushed to your throbbing shaft as it was freed, almost smacking Yerim’s adorable face as it was met with the cool air.

“Wow...” Yerim said as your revealed cock met her gaze, hungrily admiring every last inch of it as she couldn’t keep her mouth closed. Her fingers wrapped around it, forming a tight fist and pumped up and down slowly, precum dripping out of your slit already as you throbbed in her hand.

Yerim had no time to waste, giving a few soft kisses on your tip as she flattened her tongue at the base of your cock, painting slow upward strokes with her wet tongue, swirling against your leaking slit and collecting every drop.

“Mmm, yummy!” she said, and without hesitation she parted her lips with your shaft, taking you into the warmth of her mouth, sucking on your swollen sensitive tip.

“Oh... f-fuck,” you moaned out, your toes digging into the carpet as the pleasure took over, shooting up your spine. Yerim’s mouth was nothing but pleasurable, delivering radiating warmth as her puckered lips wrapped around your shaft, feeling like the softest silk as she applied a delicate suction and hollowed her squishy cheeks.

You looked up at the lights for a second, trying to distract yourself from the intense feeling of Yerim’s lips sucking you off. It didn’t help much, especially when you felt her warm mouth unexpectedly move deeper, causing you to moan loudly.

You almost regretted looking down, watching as Yerim bobbed her head up and down as she slurped on your shaft, retreating her mouth back when half of you entered her mouth as her playful tongue ran along the sensitive underside of your cock.

“God, that feels amazing,” you said, placing a hand on the back of her head, both to guide her movements and to give yourself a necessary outlet. Yerim took this as encouragement, swiftly sliding her lips up and down your throbbing shaft, leaving behind a trail of glistening warm saliva in her wake.

Yerim looked up, showing the hunger in her eyes, spitting leftover saliva as she furiously stroked your cock.

“Does that feel good, daddy?” she asked, your cock twitching in her small hand, answering for you. Hyejoo had told her one of your little secrets it seemed.

“Please fuck my face, daddy. Fill my throat with this nice cock,” Yerim pleaded, letting any last remnants of innocence slip away.

It was hard not to be taken aback by her filthy words that didn’t match her cute features, but you’d be lying if the juxtaposition didn’t send your arousal level skyrocketing.

Taking control of your shaft you rubbed your tip on her soft warm lips, pushing yourself back into the intoxicating warmth of her mouth. You guided Yerim deeper by pushing the back of her head down until her lips met the base of your shaft. With minimal effort you entered her throat, hitting the back of it as it tightened around you and caused her to gag loudly. You instinctively began to withdraw, but the look in her eyes suggested otherwise.

You grabbed both sides of her head, moving gently as strands of dark hair wrapped around your fingers as you thrusted in and out of her warm mouth, gradually testing her limits. Yerim kept gagging as your tip stuck the back of her throat, but gave no signal she wanted you to stop, her lustful gaze suggesting the opposite.

It didn’t take long for your self control to vanquish itself, carnal desires taking over as you took pleasure from Yerim, fucking her mouth furiously and slapping your balls against her chin as her round eyes began watering with tears.

“Such a good girl. You like being used like this?” you asked, Yerim unable to answer but smiling with a mouth full of cock, slurping and gagging on every inch of throbbing hard flesh.

You never stopped your rough treatment of Yerim’s pretty mouth, ruining her makeup that was no doubt meticulously put on as she tried to tame her gag reflex to no avail. You could see by her watery eyes how much she was enjoying this, dripping down her thighs as she kept her mouth open for you to encourage your forceful use of her throat.

Yerim’s hands didn’t stay idle as they worked the clasp of her bra, discarding it from her body to free her perky tits, only strengthening your erection. She held on to your thighs to brace herself, slobbering on your shaft as you kept her throat filled, taking every thrust like a champ as messy drool spilled out of her lips and coated her bare chest.

Your senses were overwhelmed as Yerim had been turned into a mess, her beautiful face now stained with tears and drool, hair disheveled and out of place. You couldn’t keep this pace up for much longer or you were liable to finish much sooner than you wanted to, forcing her head down and holding her there for several seconds before mercifully withdrawing your shaft from her messy mouth.

Yerim came up for air with several loud gasps, messy strands of spit connected your glistening wet shaft to her smiling lips.

“You really are a good girl,” you said, using your stiff cock and slapping her face several times with your wet shaft as she continued grinning from ear to ear.

"I wasn't lying…"

“I want you on the bed. I’m still a little hungry.”

"Of course, daddy!"

Yerim was quick to obey as she climbed up and crawled on the bed, lying flat on her back as she spread her legs for you, offering herself up like a scrumptious meal.

"Come taste me, daddy," Yerim beckoned, biting her lip as she rubbed her pussy through her skimpy panties, showing off the wet spot staining the front of her crotch that only grew the more she touched herself.

Yerim's perfect body was almost fully unwrapped for you, and you couldn’t take anymore and needed to see every inch, wanting to get in between those thighs you couldn’t stop staring. You joined her on the bed and peeled her panties off without hesitation down her sexy legs, revealing her bare pussy and the prettiest set of lips that were dripping with arousal.

"Beautiful," you said as you laid flat on your stomach, positioning yourself and spreading her legs wider as Yerim blushed in response.

“T-thank you, daddy.”

You grew tired of staring and wanted to take action, planting several kisses on Yerim’s bare thighs in different places, never putting your lips on the same part of skin twice. She squirmed at your touch as you teased her, placing your mouth dangerously close to her pussy but refusing to touch her center.

"D-daddy, please-"

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” you asked, swiping your tongue against her luscious thighs to taste her creamy skin, lapping up juices that had already spilled out of her core and sampling them.

“Eat my pussy, p-please, daddy.”

“You’re cute when you beg. I’m gonna make you do more of that,” you said, lowering your head in between her open legs and giving one slow swipe of your tongue against her pink dripping slit.

"O-oh f-fuck, daddy," Yerim moaned as you gave several licks repeatedly, exploring her wet tolds with your tongue. You slipped your tongue inside her juicy pussy, gathering her delicious nectar on your tastebuds and gave a few swipes against her cilt before sucking on it.

"Your pussy tastes so fucking good,” you said, slurping on her swollen clit as you felt the warmth of her thighs on either side of your face, wrapping around your head and squeezing. You looked straight into Yerim’s round, lust-filled eyes as you ate her out, watching her bliss overtake her features as you lapped up all her leaking juices, drinking up every drop.

“F-fuck, you’re really good at that,” Yerim cried out, her hips bucking with a mind of their own. You brought a finger inside her dripping wet cunt, then a second short after, thrusting into her tight little hole as you kept your lips secured around her swollen clit, slurping harshly on it.

“That feels so good, o-oh my god, please d-don’t stop, daddy…”

Yerim grew wetter and wetter, your fingers being drenched with her slick as you messily ate her out, her thighs squeezing your head tighter as her breathing became shallow. You kept eye contact as your fingers plunged to the hilt, the warm walls of her cunt squeezing your wet fingers, not letting you go.

“J-ust like that, I’m so c-close, f-fuck!”

You kept firm pressure on her clit as her moans grew stronger and longer, lips suckling harshly on her sensitive nub as you helped her chase what she was desperate for, drinking in her nectar as it filled your mouth.

“D-daddy, I-I’m going to cum!”

Yerim suffocated you with her thighs as you kept your lips on her clit, fucking her with your fingers without mercy as grabbed onto your head, pushing you deeper into her delicious pussy as she couldn’t take it any more.

“O-oh, oh my god, daddy, I’m cumming!”

Yerim’s muscles tensed up as her toes curled, flooding your mouth with her sweet succulent honey. Her hips bucked uncontrollably as you helped her hit her peak, her thighs trembling around your head, smearing her juices all over your lips and chin, drowning you with her pleasure.

It was loud and messy, an unforgettable clmax for Yerim as you helped her come down from it gently, slurping with less force and removing your lips from her sensitive clit. Your fingers however, stayed deep inside her as her thighs lost the power they held around your head.

“I want you to cum again for me,” you ordered, pumping your fingers furiously inside her dripping tight hole, her wetness sucking you in.

“I-I can’t, p-please, daddy, I’m still sensitive…”

“You said you’re a good girl didn’t you? I want you to cum one more time.”

You had no plans of letting up, both fingers buried to the hilt inside Yerim’s pussy, keeping up the stimulation on her body as you felt her cunt pulsating again. The wet squelch of her warm hole filled the room as you never stopped moving, keeping her pussy filled as tears welled up in her sparkling eyes as you demanded another orgasm out of her.

“Cum for me, baby, I know you can do it. One more time, I want to see how wet you can really get.”

“P-please, I-I, f-fuck, o-oh fuck!”

Yerim was a beautiful squirming mess, her thighs covered in her own juices as she let out desperate gasps and moans, the intense stimulation overwhelming her body and all her senses.

“D-daddy, p-please!”

You weren’t planning on stopping until you got what you wanted and what Yerim deserved. Your wrist felt like it was on fire as fingers were kept curled inside her heat, moving frantically with one goal in mind.

Yerim barely had time to register the growing knot in her abdomen, still focused on the intense aftershocks running throughout her body that she quickly came without warning. Her orgasm was much stronger as slick juices gushed out of her sensitive pussy that forced your fingers out of her as she squirted all over you and the bed, staining the sheets and leaving a dark mess on the bed.

Yerim shook uncontrollably as her second consecutive orgasm winded down, you helped her out by caressing her thighs to calm her down, rubbing her pussy with your palm.

“P-please, s-stop, I can’t take anymore, p-please,” she begged, and you had your fill, ceasing any form of contact as her sounds of gasping heightened, her chest uninterruptedly heaving up and down.

“Good girl. Are you okay?” you asked, making a show of cleaning your fingers off with her juices.

“Y-yes, I’m fine, daddy. That was intense, I’ve never had anyone do that before,” she said, struggling to form full syllables.

You patiently waited for Yerim to regain her composure, giving all the time she needed. It took several moments for the trembling in her body to control itself, as the lustful gaze in her eyes returned, and you knew that meant she was ready for the next step.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?”

“If you insist,” you replied, getting into position as your knees pressed against the still drenched sheets as you maneuvered in between her spread thighs. Yerim pushed her knees up and feet flat on the mattress as the anticipation of what you both desired was at an all-time high.

Gazing into her eyes with your cock in hand, you eagerly lined yourself up with Yerim’s pussy, sliding in between the warm flesh of her drenched pussy lips, stalling your desires to enter her body. You parted her folds, playing with her slippery flesh and refusing to do anything else but tease her entrance.

“P-please, put it inside me, daddy. I’ve been a good girl.”

“You have, but I want you to beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you.”

Yerim whined audibly as your cock loitered around her inviting opening, spreading her juices around and denying her the pleasure she desperately sought. It wasn’t going to be that easy for you to give in.

“P-please, please fuck me, daddy. I’m so wet, I need to feel your cock inside my tight little pussy!”

“I don’t think you really mean it,” you said, watching the desperation in her eyes as you slapped her clit with your cock. Yerim squirmed as you nudged the tip of your cock against her hole, teasing penetration but stopping at the last moment, leaving her unsatisfied and empty.

“P-please! I can’t take it anymore, please fuck me, daddy!”

You felt like you could go on like this forever, but your own self-control was being tested as the more you teased her the more you wanted to be inside her. Yerim continued to plead and beg, reduced to a desperate whiny mess and starving for cock as you looked straight into her eyes and slid inside her in one smooth stroke, parting the wet hungry lips of her cunt.

“O-oh my god.”

Yerim opened her mouth to let out a moan, her eyes struggling to stay open as flesh entered inside her. She tilted her head back as she was finally given what she craved as the tip of your cock disappeared inside her heat. Yerim was overwhelmingly tight, her walls suffocated your cock and you wanted to savor such an unforgettable feeling for as long as you could, lazily moving your hips.

You started out slowly, wanting Yerim to earn every single thrust. Her silky wet walls felt heavenly around your shaft, her warmth so intoxicating as you slid in and out of her pussy at a gingerly pace. She felt so wet, so hot, so tight inside that you couldn’t help but keep your pace slow at first, wanting to drown in all the intense sensations that flooded your body.

“Your pussy feels so amazing,” you said, as Yerim’s body tested your patience as you slid an inch deeper at a time, until you had bottomed her out. Her wetness was so prominent that you were able to move inside her effortlessly, her messy juices lubricating your sluggish thrusts.

“Do you like how tight I am, daddy? I’m much tighter than Hyejoo aren’t I?” Yerim asked as she adjusted to your length, keeping her desperate eyes glued to your own as you began to move more forcefully inside her, fueling your desires to give her everything and more.

“You’re so big, daddy. I want to be pounded senseless, ruin me please!”

“You have such a dirty little mouth don’t you, baby? I’m starting to think you aren’t a good girl after all,” you told her, upping your pace and fucking her harder as you grabbed her warm thighs, slipping into the wet depths of her hot constricting cunt.

Yerim feigned the hint of surprise on her face as she moaned, arms by her side and holding on to your bed sheets as she relaxed into the mattress.

“T-that’s not true, daddy. I’m not a bad girl…”

She struggled to keep her eyes open as pleasure took control of her body, and you felt no need to hold back and began pistoning your hips, pounding her pussy and stuffing her full of cock.

“I don’t think you’re a good girl. But I think you’re a little slut,” you said as you gave her the hardest thrust of the night, making her gasp at how deep your cock fit inside her.

“I-I’m not a slut, I’m a good-ah!”

Yerim’s denial was interrupted as you lifted her luscious legs into the air, draping them over your shoulders. You were able to hit spots you couldn’t before, thrusting carelessly into her pussy as the bed became an orchestra of noisy squeaks and audible moans.

“O-oh fuck, right there! just like that, daddy!”

You had no plans on stopping now that Yerim had unshackled the chains of desire, hugging her legs while your hips went wild as you drove yourself repeatedly into her comfortable warm hole.

It was impossible to concentrate on anything else with how good she felt and the never-ending wetness that smothered your shaft as you established a perfect rhythm and looked directly into Yerim’s eyes as you stretched her out.

“Such a good little slut, taking this cock so well,” you hissed, feeling her pussy clench around your cock at the second use of the word she swore she wasn’t, her body betraying her. Yerim let out wordless gasps and moans as you kept the momentum up with no end in sight.

Yerim’s moans grew and grew as your rhythm sped up, her flushed skin becoming warmer to touch as you kept her filled airtight, her walls pulsating around your drenched shaft.

“You’re going to cum again?”

“Y-yes, I’m so close! Please don’t stop…”

“You can’t. Not until you admit what a slut you are.”

“B-but I’m not...I’m a good girl I promise!” she said, desperately trying to keep up the act.

You slowed down your thrusts at the result of her defiance, practically at a standstill, resting inside her.

“N-no, wait! P-please, I’m so c-close. Let me cum, please, let me cum, daddy.”

You refused until she gave you want you wanted, only thrusting into her body every few seconds, driving her crazy.

“Say it. Tell me and I’ll make you feel better than you ever have before.”

Yerim was left with no other options, frustratedly grabbing on to the sheets as the fire in her abdomen kept burning.

“I’-I’m a slut. I’m a needy little slut that needs to cum!”

“No, you’re a good little slut. Now cum on my cock,” you corrected, reestablishing your pace and driving every inch of hard flesh inside her. Her walls clenched almost painfully tight, her wetness growing as you pounded her into the mattress.

“D-daddy, I-I’m cumming!”

Yerim’s orgasm didn’t dawdle, her toes curling into the sheets as her back arched, taking every inch of flesh into her wet pussy. You fucked her straight through her strongest orgasm of the night, her legs shaking in your hands as she came hard. If your sheets weren’t ruined before she made sure they were.

“Good little slut” you purred, letting her legs drop from your shoulders gently as your pace slowed down, caressing her face as her glazed over eyes could barely stay open.

“D-don’t you need to cum too, daddy?” Yerim asked with several shallow breaths, doing her best to form a sweet smile. You leaned forward and kissed her, tasting the cherries on her lips and watched her chest slowly heaving up and down, almost hypnotizing you.

“Not yet. I’m not done having fun with you.”

Letting her rest for a moment you slowly withdrew from her drenched pussy, watching your shaft glistening with her juices in the lights as you left her body empty, whines escaping her lips. Hands on her hips you nudged her as she turned over, getting on her hands and knees.

Yerim settled into position, displaying the naked curves of her body, ripe for the taking. She granted you all access to her delicious bent over body, her head resting on the mattress and her plump ass raised in the air.

Her pretty pink lips were still splayed open after your treatment of her, but you were just getting started, rubbing your painfully hard shaft between her warm buttcheeks as you prepared yourself to enter her pussy.

Yerim’s skin was so soft as you used her cheeks to massage your throbbing shaft, you couldn’t take much of being outside her. Not wasting time you lined yourself back up with her tight hole, poking against her entrance again with no plans to keep her waiting, needing to find yourself buried in her smothering warmth.

Taking a deep breath you looked at the pleading look in Yerim’s eyes as she patiently looked over her shoulder. You popped your hips and slid in an inch inside her dripping heat before letting the rest sink inside.

Yerim gasped as her pussy swallowed up your cock hungrily and refused to let you go, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and wetness as she lowered her head, fingers wrapped around in your sheets.

“Such a tight little slut, aren’t you? You want daddy to pound this tight pussy?”

“Yes, daddy! Don’t hold back this time, okay? I can take it!”

There wasn’t any reason not to give Yerim just what she asked for as you placed your hands on her supple cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh and kneading it, pressing your fingertips into her warm flushed skin.

“Fuck me!”

Yerim was just every bit demanding as your mutual friend and fuckbuddy Hyejoo, and if she wanted to be treated the same you were going to oblige her. She was all yours and you were going to make the most of it as you started at a rapid pace, finding a harsh rhythm and drove yourself deep inside, making her scramble for a tighter grip on the sheets.

“You’re so fucking wet. Good girls definitely don’t drip all over my cock like this.”

Yerim couldn’t find a response, answering back only in lustful erotic moans as you increased your pace, moving your hands to her wide hips and squeezing her flesh hard enough to bruise in the morning.

“Harder! F-fuck me harder, daddy, please!”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Yerim so impossibly tight that it almost hurt as you plunged every single inch of flesh in her, making sure your hips smacked against her big ass, causing her plump cheeks to ripple in time with your thrusts as she arched her back high.

“Oh f-fuck, you’re so deep! H-harder, daddy!”

“So needy,” you said, gripping her hips even tighter to pull her back against your cock, slamming into her pussy without mercy and using no wasted movements. You flattened your palm and gave her beautiful tight ass a hard smack that echoed across the room.

Her pussy clenched in response as she let out a loud gasp, and you gave her another slap on the other cheek as her walls tightened around you, threatening to push you out of her body.

“F-fuck!”

“So you’re a slut that loves to be spanked, huh? Hyejoo left out so many things,” you said, smacking her ass repeatedly in the same spot until you left a faint handprint on her pale skin.

“Y-yes! I’m a naughty little slut that loves to be spanked and used!”

Your smacks against her plump ass grew harder, her tender flesh rippling with each flick of your wrist. Yerim’s walls clenched each time you smacked her delicious ass, the mixture of pain and pleasure causing her natural juices to flood down her thighs.

“P-please don’t stop!” Yerim begged, looking back at you with desperation as you saw tears had formed in her eyes. You gave a brief moment of respite, massaging the sore reddened skin until she signaled she was ready for another round.

You struck her cheeks with more force, winding your arm back to deliver slap after slap, making sure you hit the same part of her ass as found the handprints that made such an easy target. Her sensitive skin grew a brighter shade of red with each smack, each harsh slap made her wetter and wetter.

You looked down at your handiwork, your cock disappearing into between bright red buttcheeks that you found it impossible not to want even more out of her body as you pulled her arms behind her, grabbing her dainty wrists with a tight grip.

“I’m really going to fucking ruin you,” you growled, pounding away into Yerim as if it a fire had just been lit inside you, dropping all sense of self control as your animalistic urges took over.

You were anything but gentle, fucking Yerim with the harshest thrusts your body could give. Shortly after sweat began to drip down your forehead, misting over Yerim’s naked back.

“Th-that’s so good, you’re fucking me so well, daddy!”

Yerim could barely keep it together, her pussy dripping like a faucet as she found it hard to think straight, all thoughts ceased except the hard throbbing cock ravaging her cunt without any care.

“F-fuck, d-daddy! You’re gonna make me cum again!”

Your breathing grew as shallow as hers, the loud slap of hot flesh against hot flesh filled your ears alongside Yerim’s lustful moans as your hips smacked her ass, your sweaty bodies clinging together.

“Cum for me. Cum again for me you greedy little slut.”

It only took until your sentence had ended. Yerim was teetering on the edge and your words and actions pushed her over it, unable to control herself any longer she selfishly took her fourth climax of the night. It was the weakest of the bunch but still no less satisfying, toes curling in the mattress as her orgasm jerked her whole body, and had you not had control of her arms it would have been easy for her to fall face first into the mattress.

Her wet hot pussy squeezed your cock so hard that you prepared yourself to follow in her footsteps, giving into the mind-numbing pleasure and released the grip on her wrists. Your hands found their rightful place on her hips as you pounded her pussy as long as you both could stand it.

“I-I’m gonna fucking cum too. Where do you want it?”

“Yay! Cum inside me, daddy! Please, I need my pussy filled so badly, p-please!”

You had just enough time to wait for her response, your body not waiting much longer, finding it harder and harder to breathe and it was impossible to leave the warmth of her silky dripping cunt.

Looking down between your legs, you used all your remaining energy as your cock disappeared in between her cheeks, no longer fighting the urge to hold back anything as the sweat on your bodies increased, as did the harsh sounds of your bodies slapping against one another.

You reached your peak with ease thanks to the vigorous use of Yerim’s body. It was just too much to handle as your pulsating shaft erupted inside her, moaning loudly and sending shot after shot of thick semen into the suffocatingly tight walls of her heavenly wet pussy.

Using all the energy you had left you finished up your final thrusts, slowing down the movement of your hips and ensuring not a drop was left. You were both exhausted, tired gasps and heavy panting filled the room but you couldn’t help but give her backside one more squeeze as your cock rested inside her.

“You came so much...it’s so warm…”

Once your senses had recovered and you withdrew an inch at a time as your depleted cock slipped out of Yerim’s freshly fucked pussy, leaving a stream of thick milky cum leaking out of her that dripped down her thighs, mixing with the already prevalent juices that had ruined your bedsheets.

You had just enough energy to let your tired self plop on the tortured mattress, Yerim crashing on top as your sweaty bodies melded together in a mess of limbs.

“That was amazing…” Yerim managed to mutter out, drained syllables barely leaving her sweet lips in a coherent sentence, her head resting on your chest while you draped an arm over her back, pulling her in tight.

“Do you want to clean up? My shower is big enough for two,” you said, making Yerim drip between her messy thighs again as you fixed strands of sweaty disheveled hair out of place.

“I can barely move,” Yerim giggled, flashing a weak smile.

“Don’t move then. Take all the time you need.”

“This was a wonderful date. Thank you, daddy.”

Yerim quickly fell asleep in your arms, out like a light. You were about to follow her until a buzz on your nightstand interrupted you from doing so.

Hyejoo deserved some credit, and you’d had to thank her in the morning. For now all you could do was drift away to sleep, thankful for the amazing night with Yerim and also that she wasn’t a snorer.

[paradoxolotl]

Okay, y’all asked for the rest of that Mama Bee scene, so here you go! First part is still attached but now you get the whole thing ~

Bee was late coming home. She was always home by six, because she liked to be home to have dinner together and to be there if Andrew needed help with his homework. He never did, but he had gotten used to her quiet presence in the background, quietly reading or knitting as he did his work. She was always there, and now, it was closer to seven and she still wasn’t home. Andrew didn’t like it when things changed. He didn’t like it when Bee, who had her house and life so very carefully arranged, deviated from the norm.

Frowning at the clock, the second hand a steady marching beat, Andrew dug his fingers into his arms. Something hot and prickly was creeping through his chest, and he didn’t know what it was. Bee kept trying to get him to use the stupid emotion wheel she kept in the living room, telling him it would help in identifying what he was feeling. Andrew didn’t care what he was feeling, he just needed it to stop.

The minute hand ticked over.

Maybe there was more traffic than usual. Maybe she needed to grab something at the store. His fingers dug harder into his skin. They were weak excuses at best, and he knew it. A voice in the back of his mind, growing louder by the minute, said she was at the agency. Telling them to come get him, to take him away.

The feeling spiked.

Lashing out, he knocked a plate of the counter, watching it shatter on the tile floor. Shards skittered towards him, glinting in the sunlight coming in through the window. He stared at them, tiny pinpricks, their edges sharp enough to burrow into his skin. His bare toes curled, his weight shifting.

“Andrew?”

Startling at the voice, Andrew stepped back, a shard digging into his heel. Burying his reaction down deep, he stared at Bee. She was looking at the mess on the floor, brows pinched together. Andrew’s mind was moving too fast, his body feeling too much, and he couldn’t tell if she was angry. She must be, because he broke a plate, and the pieces were blue which meant it was one of her favourites. People usually got angry at Andrew for much less.

She looked up at him, and Andrew felt his shoulders start to creep up. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like standing here, waiting for her to tell him he had to leave. He didn’t like not knowing what she was thinking.

“Andrew-”

“You are late,” he said, cutting her off.

Bee blinked, face smoothing out. “I am, and I am sorry about that.” She looked down at the floor again, and Andrew braced himself. “I’m going to go grab a broom. Stay there? I don’t want you stepping on anything.”

Andrew didn’t care if he stepped on anything else. His heel was burning, and when he shifted, he could feel how the tile beneath his foot was glowing slick. When he didn’t react, Bee stepped back, sending him one last look before disappearing down the hall. Looking down at his feet, at the shattered remains of the plate, Andrew felt something hot trickle down his throat.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here with Bee, where he had a lock on his door and Saturday grocery trips and someone to play cards with and where he felt warm and nice and safe. Rapidly, he ran through the last few months in his mind. There must have been something he did that was the last straw. Something that he could point to and know that that was when he had ruined his chance at a home.

Swallowing, he crouched down. He had always been awful to Bee. It was always his fault. He just wanted to fix this. Picking up the broken pieces, he planned how he would tell her how he would be better. He wouldn’t cause any more problems at school, he would keep the house clean, he would go see a stupid therapist, he would do anything if he could just stay.

The floorboards creaked, and Andrew tightened his grip on the pieces he had gathered, trying to sweep up the rest. His skin stung, tiny points of pain like constellations across his hands. He heard when Bee reached the kitchen doorway, her steps faltering. Looking up, he saw her looking at him with wide eyes, broom clutched tightly in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll clean it up.”

“Andrew,” her voice was tight, and Andrew turned away, picking up another piece. “Andrew, stop.”

His hands were shaking. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t-”

“Shh,” she soothed. Her toes came into his vision, and then she was kneeling in front of him. Her hand hovered over his own. “Honey, you’re hurting yourself.”

“I broke a plate.”

“That’s why I went to grab the broom.”

Something was buzzing in his ear. He shook his head rapidly. “It was one of your favourites.”

“It’s just a plate, Andrew. Plates break sometimes. They’re not worth hurting yourself over.”

He shook his head again. She didn’t get it. He needed to fix this. He needed to make it so he was worth keeping.

Bee moved away, and Andrew choked down his words. His hand twitched, and fire ran up his arm. Ruined. He always ruined everything. His chest was tight, and everything felt too hot and too close. Just as he felt as if he was about to snap, Bee reappeared, placing a trashcan beside them. Slowly, she took Andrew’s hands and guided them to the bin.

“Let them go, Andrew,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

Still unable to meet her eyes, Andrew opened his hands. The pieces fell, creating a small music of their own as they landed. Both of his palms were covered in tiny cuts, dots of red slowly appearing. On his left hand, a jagged piece was stuck in his skin, a stain slowly moving across it. In his peripheral, he saw Bee sweeping the broom across the kitchen, gathering up everything he had missed. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he would do it, but his jaw was locked and the words inside him felt too much like a scream.

Tapping the dustpan into the trash, Bee settled in front of him again. There was the sound of a zipper, as she opened up the first aid kit. Her hands were always soft and warm, and she took Andrew’s gently. He watched silently as she methodically removed all of the slivers in his skin, each one joining the others with a final tiny sound. She dapped each cut with antibiotic cream, not missing a single one. She saved the jagged piece for last, inspecting his hand before finally removing it. Blood pooled immediately, and Bee quickly pressed gauze into his hand.

Closing his fingers around it, he stared down at his hands.

“Your foot is bleeding.”

Shuffling around to sit cross legged on the floor, Andrew accepted the tweezers from her. She knew he didn’t like his feet being touched. Carefully, he eased out the last piece from his body, dropping it into the trash. Cleaning away the blood that had gathered, he kept his eyes on what he was doing, until he pressed a bandage over it. When he had nothing else to keep busy with, he focused on the trash, where Bee was dumping all of the used medical supplies.

“I didn’t mean to cause you any stress,” Bee said as she packed away the kit. “I was late, and I should have called you.”

“Where were you?” Andrew risked a glance up at her face, a pit opening in his stomach at the pinched expression he found. He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. “The agency.”

She blinked at him before nodding slowly. “Yes, I was.”

“Why.” Why wasn’t he good enough? Why didn’t she want him anymore? Rage and hurt and panic rushed through him, and he curled his hands into fists to hide their shaking.

“I got a call today from a friend of mine. To offer me a job with a colligate Exy team they’re starting. I think their goal is honourable, and I would like to be a part of it.” Andrew blinked at her. That didn’t explain why she had to go to the agency. Her face was calm when she said, “It’s in South Carolina.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It wouldn’t have mattered then, even if he had been perfect. Bee was leaving, and he couldn’t follow. No matter what he did, he couldn’t keep her.

“Okay,” he said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest. He didn’t know why it hurt so much. He should have been used to this by now. “When are they coming to get me?”

Bee blinked rapidly before her face fell, “Andrew, honey, no. No one is coming to get you!”

“You’re moving,” he said, panic slowly clawing its way up his body.

“I might be moving, yes. But only if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to uproot your whole life for a job if you don’t want to.”

He stared at her, trying desperately to grapple with confusion and fear and what might have been hope. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Of course it matters,” Bee said firmly.

He shook his head. If he told her that he didn’t want her to go, that he wanted her to stay with him, she would always resent him. She already said she wanted this job. He wouldn’t get in the way of that.

Something broke across her face, and then she was cupping his cheeks, cradling his face. “Andrew Joseph,” she said. “You don’t honestly think I would move without you, do you? If I take this job, you would be coming with me.”

Something in his chest snagged and tangled. “You were at the agency.”

“I needed some information,” she said, brushing his bangs off of his forehead. “I had been looking into this for a while, and with this job offer it feels a bit like things are lining up. If you don’t want it, I understand and won’t say anything else about it again. I’ll do whatever will make you happy, Andrew.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Bee’s hands fell into her lap, fingers clasped tight together. “I was thinking, if you would like,” she swallowed and took a deep breath before saying very carefully, “that I could adopt you. I’ve been looking into it for a while, and of course, the decision is up to you. I spoke to the agency, and it is possible to move us without adoption, if you’d prefer that, or we don’t have to move at all-”

She was rambling now, but Andrew couldn’t focus on what she was saying. He was stuck, frozen in time. A small tendril of warmth curled around him, and he held onto it tightly. “You want to keep me?”

Bee finally stopped, her shoulders falling. A smile was on her face, a little wobbly around the edges. “I really do. You’re my family, Andrew. With or without the papers. You can take time to think it over; it’s a big decision.” He could hear the hope threading through her voice, something she was trying to hold back for his sake.

“I don’t need to think about it,” he said, and she stilled, emotions crossing in her eyes too quickly for Andrew to place. Moving along the floor, he stopped beside her and wrapped his arms around her middle, his head falling on her shoulder. She smelled like lavender and sugar, and it filled him with a warmth that he had never truly felt before. Andrew blinked, but failed to keep back the tears gathering. They rolled down to fall onto the soft cotton of Bee’s shirt. He squeezed a little tighter, and her arms came up to hold him close. “Does this mean I get to call you mom now?”

Bee hiccupped a laugh, and she pressed a kiss to his hair. They stayed on the floor, holding each other close, neither willing to let go. When Bee’s fingers tucked his hair behind his ear, her own tears falling, Andrew felt a smile break across his face. For the first time in his life, Andrew had a home.

~~

Here’s a scene from after the move

And the original post, introducing the twinyards

[solarwonux]

Sangyeon x f!reader

W.C: 6.2k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, arguing, mentions of cheating

For the 12 Months I Loved You Collab by: @sunlightwoo

Note: um...better late than never right?? This was supposed to go up in February but things happen. It’s one of my favorite ones that I’ve written, but I feel like I say that for every single thing I write lmao. I hope you like it plsssss let me know your thoughts. Thank you.xx

A long exasperated sigh left your lips at the sight of Sangyeon in the corner of the reception hall, chatting up a pretty redhead. His arm draped around their waist, clutching their body close to his, their faces close enough to smell the expensive champagne lingering in their breaths. A palm was placed on his chest as he leaned down to whisper something in their ear. Earning a flirtatious giggle from them, along with a sultry nod.

Their delicate fingers wrapped around his black tie as they pulled him close to whisper something against his plump lips. It was your cue to look away, but something inside of you—maybe the five flutes of champagne you had indulged in when the night was still young, prevented you from looking away.

Gripping the body of your sixth flute you prepared for what was to come, though when he smirked and unraveled their fingers from his tie, you let out a sigh of relief. Sangyeon still hasn’t broken rule number three of your friends with benefits arrangement.

As common courtesy for the other party, under absolutely no circumstance you are to hook up with other people.

Though when he ran his fingers down the side of their arm teasingly making them shiver at the feather-like feeling. One you had relished in for many nights on end, you knew he would not only be breaking rule number three but rule number four as well.

As common courtesy for the other party, under absolutely no circumstances you are to hook up with other people, especially when the other party is in the same room.

The anger flourished inside of you like an unwelcome weed. And you knew green was definitely not your color, but you couldn’t help but feel the jealousy take over, running along your veins like bitter poison. Your grip on your champagne flute got tighter. So much so that if you were destined with superhuman strength you would’ve shattered it into pieces, especially when his knowing eyes met yours. A glint of something sinister sparking behind them while his fingers laced with those of the red head.

He turned away before giving them a shy whisper and then tugged them gently towards the door of the reception hall. Leaving you behind in the middle of his best friend’s wedding reception, on your sixth flute of champagne, while you broke rule number six.

Don’t catch feelings for the other party involved.

To be fair when you and Sangyeon had agreed to the terms and conditions of your new no strings attached relationship. You were positive, even overly confident that you weren’t going to be the one to fall for your brother's asshole friend.

You had known him for years, grew up with him. He always made it his mission to make your life a living hell. Whether it was purple food coloring in your hair conditioner back in middle school (you had an odd mixture of purple and red that had somehow turned a nasty shade of burgundy in your hair for almost a year as you grew it out enough to cut off the damage,) or calling you ugly while simultaneously including all the the synonyms. He had made your life a living hell, he had been the reason for your tears whenever your insecurities took over. And he had been the reason for your newfound jealousy now as you sat on your couch a week after your brother's wedding still replaying the scene back in your head like a bad old timely movie.

It had started when two of you got drunk on Christmas Eve, laughing boisterously at your nonexistent love life’s.

“Who knew the reason we would be bonding is because we haven’t gotten laid in months.” He said, throwing his head back, gulping the remnants of his beer.

”For your information, I got laid last week. But I’m not bringing my one night stand to meet my family.” You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his.

He sets the beer bottle to his side, before leaning his elbows on his knees and gazing over at you. “How many people asked you where your date was tonight?”

“Too many.” You sigh, running your finger along the condensation of your own beer bottle. The memories of yours and Sangyeon’s family coming up to you asking you the million dollar question still prevalent in your mind. “You?”

“Not as many as I expected but still a lot. I just wish maybe they can back off.” He leaned back, placing his elbows behind him. He tore his eyes from your form and focused them on the night sky. “Maybe I should’ve hired a date or something.” He comments.

Your family's holiday party was still bustling behind the front door of your childhood home. Yet, the thought of ever going back in, earning judgmental looks from your single aunts was keeping you away.

He was right, maybe you should’ve hired someone as a date for the night.

Sangyeon bumped his knee against yours gently, “Want to date for the holiday’s?” The question came off as a joke, his sweet and gentle laugh following it. But as you sat there contemplating the idea, you realized that it wasn’t as bad. He was practically family. Your parents and his parents had been trying for years to set the two of you up. If you were to show up on New Year’s with your arm looped in his, no one would bat an eyelash. In fact you were willing to bet money that your mom and his would start crying pure tears of joy.

“Why not?” You shrug, “Our parents have been planning our wedding since we were kids, and as much as we don’t like each other. In some twisted sense of the word I do trust you.” Sangyeon did a double take, sitting up straighter and leaning in just enough to be in your line of sight.

“Are you sure?” Concern washed over his features. His bottom lip found its way in between his teeth as he waited for your response. “Like, you want to date me for the holiday’s?” He asked pleading for reassurance. Despite the relationship between the two of you not making sense to anyone outside your friendship circle, the level of trust and respect for each other’s boundaries was evident. You two pushed each other, got under each other’s skin, but you also knew when to stop. Which is why this plan was perfect. Foolproof.

“Yes.”

And somehow the two of you agreed that from then until further notice you would be each other’s dates for every holiday in the near future. Yet, if you had known the outcome of it you wouldn’t have agreed, especially not when the thin threshold had been crossed on your birthday.

He had showed up with a cheap bottle of vodka, all the romantic comedies he could find at the gas station and a boyish smile. His lips were on yours after five shots of the drinking game you had invented and you were naked underneath him after seven.

“I’m just saying, adding sex into the mix wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” He proposed with a shrug during a very awkward hang over filled coffee talk at the rundown cafe the next day. “We can even add some rules so it wouldn’t be so weird.”

“Adding rules is the weird part, Sangyeon.” You rolled your eyes before taking a sip of your herbal green tea and then cringing at the taste. “But they would help...you know to keep things from getting messy.”

“Then it’s settled.” He smiled widely grabbing the kids menu you had ordered from and a red crayon, scribbling down messily in his almost indescifrable handwriting:

Holi-date No Strings Attached Rule Book

Can I come over tonight.xx

Your eyes roll to the back of your head in annoyance, upon reading the text from Sangyeon. Of course, he hadn’t contacted you for over a week and the only time he decides to do so is when he’s in need of a good fuck. You throw your phone down on the table, resting your forehead against it. An annoyed sound falling out of your lips.

“Hello there negative nancy,” Kevin says, slipping into the seat in front of you. “I got you your favorite.” He sings, placing the iced matcha green tea latte in front of you and flicking the top of your head to get your attention.

You whine, lifting your head up a pout evident on your lips as you break the seal of the plastic lid with your paper straw. A poor attempt to reduce the consumption of plastic. Changing the straw wouldn’t do anything for the Earth when your whole cup is made out of non-biodegradable plastic. Maybe it’s the effort and the thought that counts, either way you take a sip from your drink, savoring the taste as it coats your tastebuds. Letting the false promise of a full six hour surge of energy run down your throat.

“Thank you for buying today.” You nod.

“It’s the least I can do for helping me with the web design project.” He smiles an award winning smile before bringing his hot mug of black coffee up to his lips. Hissing from the heat and cringing at the taste. Just like how he couldn't phantom how you liked the vibrant green liquid, you couldn’t understand how he drank five cups of black coffee daily. Indeed, he was not human, you concluded that a couple years ago.

You shrug, wrapping your fingers around the cup, “I had time to spare, but don’t get too comfortable with my help. It’s rare that I finish my work early.” You point an accusatory finger at him, furrowing your eyebrows before breaking into a wide smile.

“Ehh,” Kevin shrugs, “we’ll see about that when you’re begging me to buy you one of those nasty vomit colored drinks in a week.” He finishes sending you a wink that usually has all the girls and guys weak in the knees. You on the other hand have been so accustomed to his flirty ways after years of working side by side that it did nothing to you but annoy you slightly, yet in some odd way it comforted you.

Since day one everything between you and Kevin was comfortable and easy. He sat next to you in your digital marketing class Sophomore year of college and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. For a while you harbored a fat silent crush on him, his flirting being a point of confusion for you back then. It wasn’t until you experienced first hand what dating Kevin would be like that your crush dissipated into nothing but a platonic kind of love.

It was awful, the two of you had only gone on two dates. Two very disastrous and nightmare inducing dates, that sent shivers up both of your spines when just the mere thought of it entered the front lobe of your brains. It was then, while attempting to wash out a red wine stain out of your white dress in his and Jacob’s kitchen that you both agreed to just being friends. Eventually leading up to being coworkers as well.

It was a shame, you could always see yourself possibly loving Kevin and it would be easy too. And as much as you’d like to imagine it sometimes, he wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted and vice versa.

“How’s the boyfriend, trouble in paradise yet?” He raises his eyebrow at you, hitting your calf lightly with the tip of his dress shoe.

You groan, running a hand through your hair, “Sangyeon is not my boyfriend, we just hang out sometimes.”

You quirks an eyebrow, smirking, “That’s what I said about Jacob and I, and look at us now.” He raises his left hand wiggling his ring ringer, letting the gold band catch the light of the setting sun. “Till death do us apart or something like that.” He shrugs, taking another sip from his coffee.

“Yeah but you two are perfect for each other, Sangyeon and I are like water and oil we don’t mix unless, well...you know.”

“Unless the two of you are fucking? Yes I am aware, the horror of me walking in on the two of you last month still keeps me up at night.” He shudders, pushing his half empty mug away from him. A disgusted look on his face.

“Ugh,” you put your head in your hands in utter despair, “I thought we agreed to forget about that and move on.”

“Fine I won’t bring it up again,” He rolls his eyes and sits back, crossing his arms in front of him. “But I know there’s trouble in paradise, does it have to do with what happened at the reception?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t just the events that took place at the reception. It was everything before the reception, during the reception and after the reception. You swore to yourself and him the morning after the two of you first accidentally slept together that you would never fall for him. But as it turns out, you had fallen for him long before that, a moment lost in time. A moment you couldn’t pinpoint but you just knew that what you felt for him was more than platonic. It sucked.

“Maybe,” you shrug, stirring the contents of your drink with your paper straw, distracting you and avoiding Kevin’s look of concern. “Honestly, I’m not sure. He’s just so frustrating. We agreed to have rules to make this whole fucked up situation less of a mess, but he broke two of those rules that night, purposely. I could tell that he was enjoying it.” You let out a defeated sigh and push your drink out of the way, bringing your arms to rest on top of the table, crossing them and hiding your face in them. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact emotion you were feeling, but you just knew it was bad from the way your throat closed up and the tears that were brimming in the corner of your eyes.

Kevin hummed and leaned forward onto the table, ruffling your hair in the process. “And what rule have you broken?” He whispers.

“The one in which I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.” You lift your head, digging your palms into your eyes forcefully. “I didn’t want to, I still don’t want to, but I can’t stop. It’s like he’s casted some kind of love spell on me. Maybe it’s part of his evil plan to destroy me once and for all.” You sigh, grabbing your phone and turning it over. The text sitting there unread, haunting you.

“Don’t answer it.” Kevin covers your screen with his hand. The sadness he held for you is evident behind his soft eyes. “I know you want to but don’t answer it. It’s only going to make you feel worse and frankly I still hate seeing you cry.”

He’s right. Answering him would only make you feel smaller than you already do. You didn’t want to see him, but you longed to have him hold you even if it meant nothing to him. You push Kevin’s hand away, swiping your thumb over the text, hitting reply. You know you should listen to your best friend, but there’s a reason why the two of you would’ve never made it far in a romantic relationship.

You were stubborn and never listened.

8pm, don’t be late. I have to wake up early tomorrow.

Kevin sighs, shaking his head in disappointment, falling back in his chair, scoffing. “Last time, tonight will be the last time and then we break it off.” You say, avoiding his eyes.

“That’s exactly what I said and I ended up having a shotgun wedding.”

Can’t wait, miss you.xx

“My job’s having an event for Valentine’s Day.” Sangyeon broke the silence, his chest still rising rapidly, matching yours. As you came down from your highs.

The second he had walked in through your front door he was pinning you against your poor excuse of a dining room table, without a proper greeting. He barely gave you a second to think before he was peeling your clothes off in a haste and carrying you off to your room.

“And you want me to go with you?” You turn your head to face him. He was laying down on his side, his head resting on his arm, watching you cautiously.

“Mhm,” He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you close. “I need a plus one, I have this annoying coworker that doesn’t leave me alone. I figured if I brought you along they would back off.”

“So I’m not just your date, but also your cockblock?” You tilt your head to the side, raising your eyebrow. “What happens when they find out we aren’t actually dating?” You poke his chest with your index finger. It was smooth and muscular and decorated with the beautiful marks you left behind a few minutes ago.

“They won’t.” He smiled leaving a light kiss against your neck, trailing his lips up and sucking on the spot he knew would have you moaning in seconds. “What do you say?” He bites your earlobe, pulling it before sitting up again.

You sigh and bring your sheets up to your body, sitting up. “I can't, I have plans already.” You lie hugging your knees up to your chest. You wanted to go, pretend once more that you and Sangyeon were more than holiday dates and fuck buddies. But you couldn’t put yourself through that anymore. You were getting used to being by his side, living out a fantasy in your head. When all he wanted was a quick fuck and an easy pass.

“I have a date, Kevin and Jacob’s friend.” You shrug, closing your eyes, mentally apologizing to the couple for dragging them into your problem’s once again. “We’re going out to dinner.” You finish, opening your eyes and looking over at Sangyeon who laid there, messy hair decorating his pillows, stunned. You knew what he was thinking and you were just waiting for him to say it. To get it over with so he’d leave as fast he came in.

He chewed on his bottom lip and then scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, what about rule number seven or whatever.” He quickly got up from your bed, letting the sheets covering his lower half fall down to your carpeted floor.

As common courtesy for the other party, under absolutely no circumstances you are to date other people, until officially calling the deal off.

“Well, I don’t know. I like him. We’ve been talking for a while now and he’s sweet. He likes me.” You shrug, watching as he walks around your room looking for his discarded clothes. “And I haven’t broken the rule, yet. I was hoping we could talk about it and just call this whole thing off once and for all.”

“No but you broke rule number one or something.” He puts on his boxers fast and digs through your scattered clothes on your floor for the rest of his clothes.

You sat there silently watching him, running through your memory files as you recalled the rules and what rule number one consisted of which had nothing to do with what you had done. Or lied about doing.

As common courtesy for the other party, always use protection.

“That’s not what rule number one is, it’s -”

“Whatever, you broke a rule before calling it quits, you were basically cheating on me.” He yells, leaving his white washed jeans unbuttoned as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. You were floored, witnessing an angry Sangyeon wasn’t rare for you. In fact, growing up you had been the product of many of his angry outbursts while inducing your revenge, but it was never serious. This was different. This felt different. This was serious, he was accusing you of something you didn’t do. He was accusing you of doing the one thing you saw him do at your brother’s wedding reception. It made your blood boil.

“That’s fucking rich coming from you, when you cheated on me first, but I never brought it up because although you fucking did break a rule. We are not together so who am I to get angry at you?” You threw your hands up in the hair, before pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Who are you to get angry with me?”

“And they were a good fucking lay, much better than you in every single aspect.” He spits out, angrily putting on his shirt. His words hurt. He was hitting you where it hurts the most and he wasn’t even aware of it. You held his gaze, refusing to break down in front of him.

“Why not ask them instead, why didn’t you go to them tonight instead of coming here?”

He shrugs, looking around your room, focusing on the polaroid pictures you kept on your mirror. Anything was better than looking at you, and the tears pooling in yours in which he undoubtedly was the cause of. But he was hurt too, you let him come over, you let him in and he had given you everything. Poured out his unwarranted feelings into every kiss he left on your body and every pattern he painted onto your skin with his delicate fingertips, just like he always did whenever the two of you got together. He knew he had broken rule number six a long time ago. Back when the two of you were still in high school, when the rules didn’t exist and his crush on you was nothing compared to what he felt for you now. But he was scared of telling you, and it had gotten him nowhere.

His heart still broke just like he feared, and even worse he had broken yours too.

“Maybe I should, this was a mistake. Being with you in the first place was a mistake and I knew it was going to bite me in the ass one day.”

“Get out, I never want to see you again.”

“With pleasure.” Sangyeon turns around and walks out the door. It wasn’t until you heard your front door slam shut that you finally let yourself cry.

You should’ve listened to Kevin.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Jacob pulls his scarf around his neck. Though, it was February it had snowed last night. The winter clothes that you had slowly started putting away, swiftly made their comeback when you woke up shivering that morning.

You shake your head, stuffing the heart shaped cake you had made for both him and Kevin the day before. Be mine inscribed in sparkly purple store bought icing as per request from Jacob, “It’s Valentine’s Day, you should spend it alone together.” You raise your eyebrows suggestively at the two men in front of you.

Kevin leans forward, one hand on his waist while the other one moves up and flicks your forehead, “get that pretty head of yours out of the gutter, Jacob and I are gonna romantically eat our weight in this beautiful cake you’ve made us, while watching the Bring it On series.”

“I’m trying to get him to realize why the third one is the best.” Jacob says pointedly, bumping his shoulder against his husbands. “Solange Knowles steals the show, but he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Kevin scoffs and turns to face him, “I love you and I love your love for the Knowles family but face it babe the best Bring it On movie is the first one, it sets the precedent for all the other movies.” He finishes painting the picture out with his hands in the air before kissing the others cheek.

You shake your head, silently giving Jacob a knowing look. Of course the third Bring it On was the best one, but you won’t ever say that out loud. At least not with Kevin present, he won’t ever let you live it down. Will go on and on about how both you and Jacob were wrong until he was repeating himself.

“It sounds tempting but I’m going to pass, I have my own date with my couch and heart shaped pizza and -”

“Your vibrator.” Kevin interrupts, raising his eyebrows, smiling smugly at you. The embarrassment taking over your body and rising out of your ears. Jacob rolled his eyes, hitting his husband’s upside the head, and a warning look. Kevin pouted, “What? I’m not wrong, that's what she does every Valentine’s day, I’m just stating the truth.” He complains rubbing the back of his head.

“We’re going to go now.” Jacob places both of his arms on top of Kevin’s shoulders, mouthing a sorry in the process. You brush him off, “the offer still stands, if you get bored you can join us.” He opens the door and pushes his husband through the door frame.

“I’m good, have fun and no Kevin you can’t sleep on my couch after Jacob’s kicked you out again.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, last time, I walked in on you and San -”

Jacob covers his mouth with wide eyes as he continues to push him out of your front door, Kevin shrinks at the realization that he almost slipped. It had been three weeks since you last met him, since he last reached out to you. The only thing you knew of him was that your mom had called you to tell you that he had finally gotten the promotion he had been desiring for almost a year. Doting over him like she always did. It had gotten worse when the two of you showed up hand in hand at New Year’s last year. You were proud of him. You wanted to hug him and celebrate his achievement in every which way you could. But you meant it when you told him that you didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t trust yourself or your heart when it came to him.

“We love you, call us if you need anything.” Jacob said, sending you a kiss and shutting your front door. You smiled, listening to their bickering out in the hallway, standing there until they were far away and you couldn’t hear them anymore. They were characters, the two of them and even worse when they were together. It was why they were so perfect for one another, they completed one another in every sense of the word and it made you insanely happy, but also sad.

Sometimes you wished, whenever you were alone at night and staring up at your popcorn ceiling that you could have what they had with someone that loved you to the point in which they couldn’t live without you.

It will come, at least that what you told yourself whenever the tears stopped. You just had to be patient.

You were halfway through an episode of the Vampire Diaries, and your fourth slice of pizza when the knocking on your front door sounded. You rolled your eyes, quickly pausing your show and setting down your half eaten pizza slice in the box, before standing up. You obviously weren’t expecting anyone but you figured it was Kevin after getting kicked out again. It was never serious, this game both he and Jacob played. It was some form of twisted foreplay thing they did to keep things interesting. They had explained it to you once when you shared your concern for their relationship. Sometimes you wished you hadn’t asked. You could’ve gone living your life peacefully without knowing the details of their sex life.

“I’m going!” The knocking became more desperate the closer you got to the door, and it confused you. Maybe this wasn’t part of their roleplay fantasies and something had actually happened. It worried you. You could feel it all over your body as you grabbed hold of your doorknob. “Kevin is something wro-” You stopped mid sentence when you swung your door wide open revealing a very drunk and disheveled Sangyeon.

You brought your hand up to your chest, holding onto the necklace his family had given you back in highschool as a graduation present. You never took it off, it brought a sense of comfort whenever you were caught in situations that had your anxiety spiraling out of control. Situations similar to this one.

“What are you doing here?” You step aside to give him room to enter, inviting him in without a shadow of a doubt. You shouldn’t have done that, but the part of you that will always care for him was stronger than the part of you that wanted nothing to do with him.

“We agreed to be together every single holiday season and it’s Valentine’s Day.” He say, his voice slurring slightly at the end, evident that he had consumed more alcohol than what he could handle. “I can’t leave you alone on Valentine’s Day.” He finishes, his voice turning small at the end. He ran a shaking hand through his hair causing it to stand up in different directions as he paced through your living room.

You pressed your hands up to your cheeks, letting the coldness of your palms relieve the heat that had suddenly overtaken your body. “B-But we broke things off, we don’t have to do this anymore.” You drop your hands down and point at him and then at yourself, swallowing the lump that was forming in the back of your throat. “Don’t you have an event at work? What are you doing here?”

Sangyeon looks down, taking his lips in between his teeth, “I didn’t go.” He whispers before raising his head, his eyes welling up with tears as he stuffed his trembling hands into the pocket of his white washed jeans. You swore he didn’t own another pair. “I couldn’t go without you. I-I want to spend Valentine’s Day with you and the rest of upcoming holidays...But I also want to take you out on dates and binge watch shows with you and make love to you and hold you while you sleep. I want to wake up with you in my arms, and kiss you while you’re complaining about morning breath and make you breakfast.” He takes a shuddering deep breath before sitting down on the armrest of your couch, digging his thumb into the palm of his hands. “I just want to be with you forever.” He says, clearing his throat before letting the few tears he had been keeping fall.

“Sangyeon I-” You looked around your living room frantically. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The words that had fallen out of Sanyeon’s lips with ease were the last thing you had expected to ever hear him say. It was everything you had longed to hear him say for almost a year now and you didn’t know how to react. Should you tell him to leave to give you some space to take everything in? Or should you run up to him and kiss with all the love and passion you harbored for him? You were caught at the crossroads. was overwhelming.

Sangyeon scoffed, shaking his head before raising it again, turning his head to focus on your tv, avoiding your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same way, I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids and I don’t know when you told me that you were seeing someone. I was so angry at myself for never being able to just confess and hurt that I had been too late.”

The air in your lungs caught itself in the back of your throat. You walked towards him quickly crouching down in front of him, taking his hands in yours. “Sangyeon look at me.” You swallowed, placing two of your fingers underneath his chin and guiding his head to face you, finally locking eyes with you. You felt so weak and full of energy, ready to kiss him until the two of you died from lack of air and you wanted to laugh. “We’re so stupid Sangyeon. This entire time I thought you only wanted me for sex while I slowly fell for you and now you’re telling me that you had the hots for me since we were kids...wow.” You smile, swiping your thumb underneath his eyelids wiping away his falling tears. “I’ve loved for a long time. I don’t know when I started to love you. Just that when I realized it I couldn’t stop.”

“‘I’m sorry.” He hiccups, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. “I’m sorry for what I did at your brother’s reception, but I swear on my grave that nothing happened between us. They were drunk so I called them an uber and walked them to their ride when it arrived.” He confesses, leaning down and circling his arms around your waist, guiding you to stand up.

He rests his forehead against your stomach sighing. “There’s never been anyone else for me other than you. You make me feel so stupid and frustrated sometimes. I know I shouldn’t have said the things I did that night, like you said I had no right to bud into your love life and being angry is no excuse but I was scared of losing you.” He looks up, his bright eyes pleading. “I’m still scared of losing you.”

You sniffle, bringing your hand up to his head, letting your fingers thread through his already messy hair, “I’m sorry too for lying. Clearly I had no plans.” You laugh lightly, pointing around your living room. “I had somehow convinced myself that lying about seeing someone else would be an easier way to end things, but it hurt so much seeing you leave knowing that there was a possibility I would never see you again.”

Sangyeon laughs, his shoulders shaking gently before he leaves a chaste kiss against your clothed stomach. “Honestly, that would be impossible, we’ve been practically married since the minute we entered this world.” He stands up, towering a couple inches over you, “If I hadn’t come tonight our moms would have forced us to talk sooner or later, I just got a little too drunk and beat them to it.” He presses a kiss against your head before pulling you into a tight hug, sighing happily. “I never want to be without you.”

You nod against his chest, “Will you remember this tomorrow?” It was a thought that had been running through your mind since his confession hit you full force knocking the wind out of your body. Though the few times you had a drunk Sangyeon in your presence he remembered every single tiny detail the next day. This was just your fear taking full charge at the thought of him waking up next to you confused, and walking out again.

He hummed, smoothing his hands down your back. “I’ll write everything that happened down and in detail. I’ll even describe the look on your face when I told you that I loved you. Which by the way have I told you that I love you...a lot.” He teased, leaning back and wiggling his brows.

You leave a light kiss on his chin before pulling away, unraveling his arms from your body. “I love you too.” You walked around him and sat on the couch picking up the remote. “Want to join me?” You tilt your head, your thumb hovering over the play button.

Sangyeon pouts slightly, copying your movements and sitting down next to you. “I haven’t asked you to be my official girlfriend yet.”

“Ask me in the morning, I want you to ask me when you’re sober.” You smile, kissing his lips lightly and wrapping your arm around his waist, leaning your head against his chest.

He makes a sound of approval, placing his arm around your shoulder, “Okay but I have another confession before you press play.”

“What is it?” You press your cheek against his chest before looking up at him confused.

“I already watched this episode, Elena and Damon get into a fight.”

“Don’t they always.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to watch it again.”

You shrug and press play, “Unfortunately, you have infiltrated my Valentine’s Day plans so you’re stuck watching.”

“I did it in the name of love.” He groans, shifting and pulling one of your legs over his lap, holding you closer, as the snarky remarks between the two characters start, sounding loudly through the speakers he had helped install when you first moved into your place three years ago. He almost told you he loved you that day, but then you had put an ice cube down his back and his mind instantly started thinking of ways to get his revenge. His confession hiding away again.

But now it was out in the open and finally he could love you the way he knew he could. The way you deserved.

“And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

[meteorrogers]

the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.

summary: you piss off your professor 

pairing: professor!andy barber x reader

warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!

word count: 3,478 (approx)

a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!! 

You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”

You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.

“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”

You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice. 

“Um, imprisonment?”

The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.

Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.

You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.

“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.

“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.

“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”

You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him. 

“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”

You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.

You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.

“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I was just—“

“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”

And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.

“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.

“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“

You ignore him.

“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”

You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How about you go fuck yourself.”

And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.

He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.

“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”

You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.

“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”

“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”

By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.

He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.

“Get over my knee.”

“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”

“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.

You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.

You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.

“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.

“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”

“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”

He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.

“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.

“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.

“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.

His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.

He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.

“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.

Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling. 

“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.

“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”

Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.

He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.

Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.

“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.

“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”

He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.

Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.

He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”

And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”

“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.

Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.

Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.

He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.

“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.

“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”

“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.

“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”

He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.” 

“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close. 

“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away. 

Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.

“I need my panties back.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”

the end.

a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️

[gumnut-logic]

I know I’ve posted this one before, but what the hell. It’s Johnny and one of my favs :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 6

a/n: DKFJSLDKFSJ OMG YOU GUYS IVE LTR BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS FOR SO LONG AACCKKK!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also, omg im screeching bc BAHAHAHA THERE IS GOING TO BE A SLIGHT PLOT TWIST YOU GUYS!!!!!

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

- Ever since yn got lost during a trip to another school, the team made the rule that she has to hold one of their hands. Its probably so small compared against the boys. She got lost cause babie saw a cat

SKDLFJLSDKFJ EWWWWWWWW IM SCREECHING IN DISGUST RIGHT NOW LIKE THATS SO DIS COS TANG OIKAWA TOORU LIKE LEAVE MY GUY ALONE!!!!!!! #LETMAKKILIVE

lmao yep this is really happening

okay so anyways

you guys know how seijoh is like known around the prefecture right?

and we all know that nekomata and old ukai are like besties so they were talking over the phone right

and nekomata was complaining that his players were already fed up with playing against the same people and they wanted to be challenged and wanted new exposure to other players and all that jazz

old ukai was cackling at the other side bc haha youre actually begging me to find you new teams now?

but anyways

theyre like besties forever so ofc old ukai would help

and by help, he turned to poor zaddy keishin and told him to look for teams that could be sent up to tokyo and play against nekoma

‘what?! im already busy and i dont have time to scout-’

‘YOU WATCH YOUR TONGUE BOY! I CREATED YOUR FATHER AND WITHOUT HIM, YOU WOULDNT BE HERE TODAY!’

‘BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I WANTED TO BE ALIVE IN THE FIRST PLACE!’

family goals 😍😍😍

but keishin still listened to his grandfather and recommended seijoh as being the one to go as they are one of the hardest to beat opponents in the preferecture

but its more like he wants to hear about nekoma being destroyed by oikawa’s service aces and grovel at their feet since naoi always made fun of them saying country boys arent as good as city boys

LIKE PLEASE

anyways!!!!!!

nekomata got word of it and immediately phoned aoba johsai and talked to the coach 

‘yes, i heard from an old friend of mine that you are quite strong’

nekomata praised, wanting and desperate to have them come up

‘and do you think your team is good enough to beat us?’

LMAO YESSSS GRANDPA IRIHATA!!! DRAG THEM KITTIES!!!!

WAIT NO THAT SOUNDS WRONG

but they settled on their disagreements and decided yep they were going to go up there and have a practice match

however

irihata and nekomata wanted their boys to be kept in the dark about who this team is as knowing them, they have sources to find them tapes of old plays

they wanted it to be a fair match

even the managers were being kept from it as they could easily be influenced by the players for that information

irihata walked into the gym and announced a team meeting to which they stopped

you sat down next to kyotani, who pulled you beside him and wrapped a protective arm around your waist

‘we have a practice match against a prominent team up in tokyo in 3 days. make sure you have your plays right and pat down as they are known to be quite an opponent’

the boys shouted a determined cheer and they all hussled back to practice

you were running around, tending to everyone with towels or medical tape

once you finally sat back down on the bench, you noticed your phone screen light up, indicating someone sent you a message

it was natsu

you swiped open and smiled softly at his picture

it a selfie of him in front of his school as you told him to send you a picture that he arrived safely

‘got here in one piece since im not ready to meet daddy satan yet’

i hate him you guys

after receiving news of his mother gaining custody of him, he cheered and was able to go back to tokyo without his father in the picture

lets just say,,, hes not nice

anyways

you were sad to let him go but you understood he missed his friends and his almost-boyfriend so you were able to say goodbye easily at the station

‘gross but im pretty sure katsuki would blow satan to smithereens’

‘hehe ;) he would’

‘N A S T Y’

you cringed but giggled and the team noticed so they tried hard to gain your attention back on them

‘aaa!!!!! y/n-chan!!! my leg!!!!’

‘i think i chopped off my finger!!!!’

‘my head snapped off my body!!!!!’

you rolled your eyes and placed your phone down before walking over to mattsun to help him snap his head back on his neck

finally, it was the day of the match

you were arranged to stay the night at tokyo to have a few practice matches with this unknown team

the team was arranged to meet at the train station at 9:45 since the train leaves at 10 

you arrived the earliest to keep track of everyone and just because you were actually kinda excited

theres this weird feeling in your stomach that isn’t exactly bad but its,,, giddy

you sat on the bench, waiting for the team 

they all started arriving one by one and you were doing a headcount for everyone but you were missing one

you checked your phone and you noticed he was getting late

it was already 9:54

you hate it when people are late to meeting time so you were slightly irritated

you dialed up your captain’s number and you stood up, pacing around

‘hello~~~~ y/n-cha-’

‘oikawa-san! do you know what time it is?! you were arranged to come here at specifically 9:45 but its 14 minutes passed that so where the hell are you? you better have a good excuse you piece of-’

‘aww y/n-chan oikawa-san is sorry’

someone whispered in your ear from behind and you flinched, surprised at the sudden person

oikawa wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hung up the call and you turned around, arms crossed while pouting at him

‘sorrysorrysorry!’

he apologized and you rolled your eyes

‘i swear, oikawa-san. if i find out it was because of your hair again-’

‘oi shittykawa! your sister just called me and you left the curling iron on, you stupid bastard!’

iwaizumi’s shout made oikawa sweat and pale 

your eyes glinted dangerously 

‘this is the last straw, oikawa-san’

you growled and he shot down to his knees and was about to start praying to you when the coach decided he had enough entertainment for the day and called everyone to gather around

‘heres your tickets. this train will get us there around lunch time so dont worry about getting hungry’

the shinkansen train had 2-person seating so everyone fought secretly amongst each other to sit next to you

literally, their private group chat was blowing up until early this morning at the shouts and yells of everyone caps locking their arguments as to why they deserve to sit next to you

the only one who didnt was mattsukawa issei

bc quite frankly, he didnt care who he sat next to and although it sounds nice to be next to you, he isnt exactly the comfiest to sleep on due to the obvious size difference

lmao like your head probably wouldnt reach his shoulders bruh

now youre not oblivious

or blind

so you noticed the glares of everyone as you all stood for the train to come

and you also noticed mattsun just standing there, bored, so you sneaked over to him, wrapping your arms around him

‘arent you excited, mattsun-san?’

he gasped quietly at your sudden appearance but he smirked

‘its nothing special. just another team that we’re going to beat’

you giggled at his confidence and you walked in front of him so you could properly be held by him

it was practically second nature now by the way he just opened his arms and you crashed into them, his own wrapping around your shoulders to hold you tight

‘i love your confidence so much mattsun-san’

he flushed red and furrowed his eyebrows, head turning to the side to hide the obvious effect you had on him

‘whats the point of playing when you cant be confident’

‘aaaa why are you looking away mattsun-san!!!’

lmao when the team saw you sitting next to mattsun, they all felt so betrayed like bruh

ltr kyo and iwa were about to go feral

oikawa was like ready to screech his ass off but one look from you made him shut up

‘i sincerely, really, truly hope youre just complaining about the seat hurting your flat ass, oikawa-san’

KDFJLSDKFJSDL Y/N NO STOP IT

it was kinda funny actually bc everyone was all pouting and sulky while you just have mattsun who’s smirking like ‘beat that’

SDKFJLSDKF I LOVE MATTSUN’S SMIRK LIKE PLEASE OMG

ofc he let you sit at the window bc you love window seats

like iwa, he also pulls up the arm barrier thingy and you shuffle closer to him and mattsun practically combusts

the ride isnt expected to be very long but you still found yourself sleeping during it

mattsun has his arm around your shoulder while your head is leaning against his peck man boobie 

omg its so cute like he actually slides lower on the seat to help you reach his shoulder and hes slouching and back is hurting just for you

;’)

he was awake the whole time bc he couldnt sleep with his heart beating so hard it might rip out of his chest

ew thats kinda gorey

your hand was gripping his own and to pass time, he found himself fiddling with your fingers 

an unknown smile appeared on his face at the obvious size difference between yours and his

a finger traced different and foreign shapes just to feel the softness of your hand and he combusts again when you unconsciously squeeze his hand

mattsun couldnt help but bring your linked hands up and kiss the back of yours

it was soft, gentle, and his lips lingered there for more than a second

then a sudden feeling of fatigue washed over him and he leaned his cheek against the top of your head 

the last thing he remembers is the smell of your f/s (favorite smell) shampoo

then you guys arrived in tokyo

irihata had to personally wake you all up because even naoi fell asleep and everyone fell asleep

irihata gently shook mattsun awake and when the boy opened his eyes, the older man nodded over to your form

‘gently wake her up’

as if mattsun didnt already know

thats why he softly ran the pad of his thumb on your cheek that was exposed to the air

‘y/n~~’

he coos and your nose twitches, in between the border of dreams and reality

‘darling, wake up, baby bear’

FSDKLFJSDLKSDJKFJDSKLFJSDLFKSJDLF YOU GUYS I CANNNNTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also im listening to kataomoi by aimer  so that kinda influences the ‘darling

his deep voice that surprisingly reaches a level of quietness made your eyes flutter

your whole face scrunched at suddenly being woken up but the sight of mattsun’s genuine smile made you mirror it and cuddle closer for an extra dose of warmth

‘hmm, is my baby tired?’

he teasingly whispers and you nodded, snuggling even further and he gently cups your face

his hold had made your cheeks squeeze slightly together and your pout increased the cute factor 

‘nwoooo dont skweeze demmm’

you slurred and he chuckled

‘hai hai’

‘kwiss it better’

you demanded and he full on laughed before moving his hands to your jaws so he could plant many kisses on your cheeks

the repeated kisses tickled so you giggled and squirmed

‘aaaaaa mattsun-san it tickles!!!’

your playful protests forced him to stop and allow you to actually sit up

as usual, your hair was a bird’s nest and mattsun attempted to settle it out

‘hah, y/n-chan your hair is like another being itself’

he choked out and you pouted at him

‘so mean! mattsun-san is so mean! baba-san! rescue me!!’

yahaba was known in the team to be the one who fixed your hair and you trusted him the most with it

hearing his name being called, the pretty boy dashed towards you and mattsun’s seats

‘is senpai giving you trouble again? come, honey, come to baba-san’

mattsun gave him a look for the younger’s passive agressive tone

oikawa immediately dashed over right next to yahaba

‘oh? y/n-chan! oikawa-san is here!!’

iwa and kyo growled

‘SHUT UP SHITTYKAWA!’

meanwhile irihata and naoi were just done

they just wanted to get off the train like is that such a big favor?

finally!!!!

seijoh was able to actually make it to the city and ngl, despite living in sendai, you were actually overwhelmed by the bustling city of tokyo

there were people all over the place and many cars and you were being pushed around

it didnt help that it was ltr lunch hour and a flurry of business people just flooded out of their buildings

you unconsciously gripped your bag and focused on just not tripping over people so your eyes were trained on your feet 

then in the corner of your eye, you saw a tiny animal that was in danger of being stepped on so you ofc had to go chase after it

you shouted at some people to watch out and to not step on it

but then it disappeared

the moment you looked up, everyone was gone

you panicked and your head was turning from side to side

‘MATTSUN-SAN?! IWA-SAN?! KYO-SAN?!’

you shouted but it seems your voice wasnt loud enough

GIRL YOU GOTTA MANIFEST THAT BULLHORN VOICE

worry and dread bubbled inside of you but you stopped, just trying to calm down and think

then you saw the flash of white again so you hurriedly ran after it, not knowing that you were straying away from the city and towards the suburbs

you noticed you were now lost at the less amount of feet walking and this wasnt the city and you were now away from the team

taking yoru eyes off of the cat, you looked around to confirm your fear and that gave the cat an opportunity to disappear again

yoo crookshanks

huffing a curse, you pulled your phone out of your bag and dialed each 

your phone wasnt reaching the boys and no one was picking up

what the heck

you ended up at some quieter and less crowded spot 

like a neighborhood

you contemplated calling natsu as he lived in tokyo but tokyo was a big city and you were at some neighborhood so its highly unlikely he would know where you are

so you just walked around, looking for a place to sit and think like a park

then you heard a distressed meow

you were just walking and hearing that loud cry of help made you stop and immediately follow the sound

‘kitty? kitty?’

you called out even though you knew fully well they didnt understand you

but the cat cried even louder and you heard another cat

it was less higher pitched and honestly, you just felt like there was another cat

as you looked around, you saw the same cat you followed after and it bobbed its head at you as if asking you to follow him

‘you want me to go with you?’

the cat blinked then turned around and started walking

‘okay then’

you took the time to inspect the actual color of the cat

it was dominantly white furred but it had multiple colored spots, mainly yellow and brown

you eventually ended up at a large tree with a cat shivering on the biggest branch

it was black and had some fur sticking out at the top of its head and it looked young so its probably a kitten

you tutted and reached out your hand but it recoiled, hissing at you

BOI SHE TRYING TO HELP YOU WHAT

‘hey, i want to help you’

you softly said and maybe youre just doctor dolittle? 

bc it stopped hissing and started whining instead

‘kenma-san! i swear i saw it just now-’

a sudden foreign voice made the black haired cat hiss again and this time, even you were counted as a threat

the appearance by the corner of two boys made you glare at them

one was freakishly tall with grey hair and scary green eyes while the other was shorter and had bleached hair that grew out

they both wore running shorts and black shirts and they looked like they were on a run or something

then you had a thought

this guy was tall

he could help

‘hey! you!’

you waved and the boys stopped, eyes wide

they pointed to themselves and you nodded

‘yes, silly! especially the tall one!’

the other had a flash of a glare that disappeared almost immediately but the ‘tall one’ happily skipped over

‘oho, hello chibi-chan’

KDFJSLDFKSDJLFDKSJ YES IM CONDENSCENDING

you puffed your cheeks out in anger at the nickname but this was not the time

‘that kitty up there is stuck. and i cant help it because its scared. and its all the way up there’

you pointed and he nodded

‘i followed that cat here too but i needed someone else. thats why i brought kenma-san’

your eyes shifted to ‘kenma-san’ who was focused on the other cat who also stared back at his spot by the tree

hmmm, they look kinda similar

‘well! we need to help it,,,,,, grandpa-san!’

taken aback by the nickname, the tall guy gasped while the blonde boy choked out a sudden laugh and you giggled

‘GRANDPA?!’

‘yea. you know cus you have gray hair’

you reasoned and he was about to retort when he stopped himself

‘no. we have more important matters in hand. kenma-san, come stand on my shoulders. chibi, use my jacket to catch it if it falls’

you scrambled to do your task but you heard kenma-san mumble

‘you cant tell me what to do’

‘oh hey! whats your name?’

you asked and the tall guy waved

‘im lev. haiba lev. first year’

‘kozume,,, kenma. im a second year’

‘oh! then nice to meet you! im l/n y/n!’

introductions had to be cut short as you all assembled

kenma wobbled while lev cringed at the obvious pain but they gritted their teeth and kenma lunged to grab the cat 

but the cat jumped away, falling to the ground where it was caught safely by you

thankfully the jacket saved you from scratching but after a few soft whispers of reassurance, the kitty calmed down and it resulted in just shaking

‘its okay. we’re okay. i got you’

you were completely oblivious to the fact that kenma and lev were on the ground, bleeding after falling, or the shout at the distance

‘kenma! lev!’

‘Y/N-CHAN!’

you three turned to see two groups of boys coming from two directions

on the right had a guy with black hair similar looking to the cat on your arms 

while the left had your familiar looking captain

‘oikawa-san!’

you shouted and he ran up, eyes wide with worry

‘where were you?! why did you run off?! you shouldn’t-’

he rambled but your eyes stopped at the appearance of your familiar pink-haired cousin

‘natsu?!’

you shrieked and he had an equally surprised expression

‘y/n?!’

he shouted 

‘what-!’

he started but you beat him to it

‘why are you here?!’

you pointed to the people behind him

‘im,,, a manager. im a manager for my volleyball team’

‘volleyball,,,’

you trailed off

‘VOLLEYBALL?! NEKOMA?!’

you knew of your cousin’s school but you didnt think you guys would meet here

‘shes your cousin?’

someone piped up from the back and natsu nodded, still looking at you

‘oya? the apple doesnt fall far from the tree, then. hello gorgeous, the names kuroo tetsurou’

KSLDFJDSK I HATE THIS LIKE PLEASE HES JUST A NERD YET I WRITE HIM LIKE THIS I HATE MYSELF

‘HAH?! YOU BACK OFF!’

kyotani started but you caught him in time, holding him in your arms

‘nooo,, calm down, kyo-san’

natsu’s nose crinkled and his mouth curled

‘ugh, nice to see you too, brat’

‘BRAT?! YOU BASTARD!’

‘IM A THIRD YEAR, YOU BASTARD!’

kyotani was held back by oikawa and iwa while your cousin was with that kuroo guy and lev

you hurried back to the rest of the team and they each glared at you but they had an obvious expression of relief

‘do that again y/n-’

‘i know, makki-san. youll use a leash backpack’

lets just say its not,,, the first time youve been lost

‘new team rule. youre holding someone’s hand at all times. no matter what, always hold us’

yahaba scolded and watari nodded

meanwhile, mattsun grabbed your hand and gripped it tight

‘youre never leaving my sight again’

his tone was different from his usual playful and teasing voice 

you knew he was very worried and that made you feel really guilty

��im sorry’

you whispered and he pulled you to him, hugging you tightly

‘its okay. youre here right now and thats all that matters’

you nodded and you turned your head, leaning on his chest to watch oikawa yelling and shouting at this kuroo guy while your cousin and kyo were arguing and you chuckled

this was,,, chaos

‘dear god, you shouldve let me be lost for a few more hours’

you mumbled, smiling lightly when mattsun’s chest vibrated as he laughed

‘take me with you next time’

‘i will’

you hummed

‘Y/N-CHAN! YOU ARE NOT GOING NEAR THIS-THIS MONGREL!’

oikawa screeched, stomping his way over to you

you smirked

‘oi kuroo-san! lets hang out after the match!’

oikawa screamed

a/n: now that my nekoma manager is out, i can finally have a manager x manager interaction and uwuwuwuwu just wait until i finish the others and ill do that req anon sent in ;) if you sent it in, you know what im talking about ;)

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 30: Slipping Through My Fingers

Summary: Jamie grasps at straws for a way to ease Claire

Read on AO3

Read chp 30 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 30

***

Jamie didn’t remember dozing off, but he must have, because he was dragged out of sleep so abruptly it was like cold water had been dumped over his head, shooting adrenaline into his system. It wasn’t apparent at first what had woken him until Claire made a sound that clearly wasn’t the first time she’d cried out. 

It was a whimper, weak but plaintive, piercing to Jamie’s soul. He shot into wakefulness as it tore from her throat again, and he pushed himself up on his elbow, blinking sleep away so he could see her. 

She was still asleep. Her eyes were clenched tightly closed while her head jerked back and forth in an unconscious mimicry of shaking her head no. Before Jamie could even reach out to bring her out of the dream, she was shooting up in bed, eyes open and wild with panic. 

Her frantic gaze met his eyes, and her chest heaved as she drew in a sharp breath that was halfway between a gasp and a sob. 

Jamie was crushing her to his chest without a second more of hesitation. 

“It was jes’ a dream, a nighean,” he said as he held her fiercely, “it’s alright. It wasna real. I’m here.” 

He tucked her head under her chin and made shushing sounds. The puir lass butted her forehead into his chest, but instead of bringing her arms around him— which she likely lacked the strength to do— she simply leaned her whole body into him. 

“It’s alright now, my fair one,” Jamie hushed, “it wasna real. Was jes’ a nightmare.” 

She gave a tiny tilt of the head that may have been a nod, but Jamie still felt her trembling against him. His heart broke for her. Clearly whatever she had dreamt had shaken her to the core. It had been a while since she’d had a reaction with this much energy to anything, and now her body was alight with fear. 

Jamie nudged his chin down to kiss her hair and softly asked, “what were ye dreamin’, lass?” 

Her swallow was audible and her breath shuddered before she answered. 

“It was dark. Pitch black, but somehow I could see the darkness swirling. And I was ripped apart— over and over. And I—“ she inhaled sharply, “I was alone.” 

“It wasna real, mo nighean donn. Ye arena alone. I’m right here. And I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.”

Jamie hated not being able to see her face and meet her eyes when he said that, so he carefully laid her back flat on the bed. She complied, boneless and allowing him to maneuver her, but he spotted a flash of distress in her eyes. 

“Dinna fash,” he quickly soothed. He laid down next to her, bracing his head up on his elbow so he could stare down at her, but he brought his other hand to stroke her arm. “I’m here, aye?” He met her eyes this time, trying to impart the solemnity of his words, “We’re together. And that’s all that matters.” 

She let out a breath that was as much of an agreement as she could muster. 

“Just…” she said suddenly, surprising Jamie, “don’t leave my side.” 

In another show of vigor, she reached up to twine her arms around his neck and cling to him. He knew what she wanted without being told. Sliding a hand underneath her back, Jamie gently lifted her into a sitting position, careful not to put much distance between them that would upset her. When there was inevitably a bit of space between their midsections, Claire scooted closer to press herself to him. 

“Sassenach?” When she didn’t respond, he said again, “Claire? Is this alright?”

She laid her head on his shoulder, “I just want you to hold me for a bit.”

His stomach twisted, and he withdrew his hands from where they were flat on her back so that he could wrap his arms tightly around her instead. He pressed his lips to her forehead and then tucked her head underneath his chin. Tears burned at his eyes. 

“I ken ye’re scared,” he murmured into her hair, kissing it softly, “but we’ll face it together, mo ghraidh, always.” 

A shuddering breath against him was the only response. 

He wished he had more words for her— something more to say that would ease her— but even language seemed to fail him. He could only say the same thing over and over, promising to be with her. Finding himself at the end of the power of words, he relied on touch. 

Bringing a hand up, he began to stroke her hair gently. It occurred him how she seemed impossibly small. There was no trace of his vibrant, curious, and even mischievous faerie. She just clung to him, quiet, and allowed him to hold her. 

She was somehow muted. Everything about her seemed almost… serene, only in all the wrong ways. She simply didn’t have the energy to do anything more than listlessly be. 

Jamie found himself missing her, even though she was there with him at that very moment. 

Adso was meowing insistently outside, demanding that his morning meal be served, but Jamie wouldn’t dream of letting Claire go. He patiently rocked her, swaying slightly as she rested in his arms. 

“When I was young,” Jamie began to speak, not sure exactly why this story came to his head, “my older brother Willie and I wanted tae build a treehouse sae badly.” Claire nestled her head further onto his shoulder, settling in, and Jamie took that as a sign to continue. “A treehouse is jes’ a tiny room made of wood that you put high up in a tree and have tae climb up to even get into it.” The usual Claire would have definitely had something to say about that, some snarky remark about the oddities of humanity, but she was too fatigued to do anything but listen and breathe against him. “My da didna trust us wi’ the tools, and he was workin’ full time and tryin’ tae keep up wi’ the farm. We begged and pleaded for him tae jes’ let us do it ourselves, but he said it’d have tae wait until the summer. But then Murtagh showed up in our backyard one day without a word, hauling pieces of wood and his tools, and Willie and I couldna believe our eyes. We worked every afternoon for weeks. When it was finally done, Murtagh, Willie, and my Da spent a night up there— cuddled up in blankets side by side, looking out the windae at the stars and listenin’ to Da and Murtagh tell stories. I remember Willie and I fell asleep huddled together for warmth, listenin’ to the soothing sound of their voices. It was the best night.”

Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat. What he had left out was the fact that it was after Willie’s cancer diagnosis. As they’d built the treehouse, he’d watched Willie grow more and more fatigued. That night in the treehouse was one of the last perfect memories he had with his brother. 

He realized suddenly that it’d been foolish to tell such an emotional story to Claire at that moment, and as lungs clenched, he wished he could take his words back inside. Sensing his grief, she whispered, “you miss him.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement— an acknowledgement of his sorrow and longing for his brother. 

“I’m sorry, I didna mean…” 

“You can’t help what you feel, Jamie, don’t apologize,” she said softly. When Jamie tilted his head down to look at her, he saw she’d lifted her face from his shoulder and there were tears glistening in her eyes. 

“My sweet lass—” he croaked. 

The reason for his telling the story— the reason why it had come to his head in the first place— hung in the air, heavy and unspoken between them. 

“I’m okay, Jamie,” she said, straightening up and blinking her brimming eyes at him, “really. I’m just… tired. I’ll be alright. I don’t want you to worry like this.” 

So she could feel that too. 

“Of course I worry for ye, mo nighean donn,” he whispered.

There was a flash of panic inside him, sudden and sharp. Jamie had lost much in his life. He’d lost his brother to cancer, his mother and newborn brother to a traumatic birth, and he’d watched his father die of a stroke. He wasn’t sure he could bear to watch Claire fade away.  

But he couldn't jump to conclusions yet— he told himself firmly as he shoved all of that as far down inside himself as he possibly could. 

“I don’t want you to worry,” Claire argued, laying her head back down on his shoulder. Stubborn as ever. Her lips brushed over it in the slightest, the barest hint of a kiss. 

“I’ll try no’ to,” he promised. 

“Let’s go down and get the cheetie his breakfast,” Claire said abruptly as another urgent meow came from outside the door, although she made no move. 

“Are ye sure?” Jamie wanted to argue, at least insist that she stay in bed, but he knew deep inside him that there was no way she’d part from him even for a moment, so he offered instead, “we can stay a while longer.” He squeezed his arms more tightly around her, holding her close. 

“As long as we go together,” she said. 

As they got up from the bed, Jamie was careful to keep an arm secured firmly around her. He abided by her residual clinginess and indulged her desire to stay pressed close to him. It was no real task; he would have her in his arms every minute of every day if he could. The length of her body pressed down his arm as she leaned slightly against him. 

The moment they made it downstairs, she sat on the couch, curling her knees to her chest under the fluffy throw blanket as Jamie went in the kitchen to grab some breakfast. 

When he returned, she was antsy for his presence. He settled down on the couch next to her, holding a simple granola bar in his hand (he didn’t want to spend time preparing anything else when she was like this). Nearly instantly, he had a lapful of faerie. She climbed up, straddling his legs, and hugged her arms around his neck so their fronts were pressed together. Nearly every inch of her was touching him, and he thought if she was physically capable, she would have made the rest of her body touch too. 

It broke his heart damn near in two to see her suffering like this. 

To be helpless to do anything. 

“Want tae watch another movie, lass?” he asked gently. He had no idea what else to suggest. She needed rest and recuperation, and he ached for her to be distracted, even if just for a short while. 

She gave a little murmur of assent but didn’t raise her head from where it was burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to get her attention. When he didn’t receive anything in reply, he smoothed his hand up her back to gently cradle the nape of her neck. He suddenly felt the need to reassure her— or, if he was being honest, for her to reassure him. “Hey, mo ghraidh. I willna let anything happen, aye?”

“I know,” she said quietly. 

But that was a lie. Both of them knew it was. 

There was no telling what was happening, no assurance that it would pass. He was making promises he couldn’t keep. But everything inside of him had been screaming the words until he had to say them. 

“What should we watch?” Jamie changed the subject before his brain could dwell on his fears long enough for Claire to sense them. 

“You pick, Jamie,” she said. 

The way she said his name... It made his heart clench terribly. She said it like it was an endearment, only his name meant the same as “love” to her. 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jamie grabbed the remote and turned on Aristocats, knowing that cat movies and shows tended to be her favorites. His faerie had a bit of an obsession now. How different from when she’d first cowered in his arms at the sight of Adso. 

But she didn’t turn around to watch the movie. She stayed facing away from it, curled into Jamie. As the movie played, he simply held her and didn’t say a word. He would do whatever she needed for the rest of his life if only it could help her feel the slightest bit better. 

As the movie went on, Claire gradually began to melt. The paradoxical mix of listlessness and clinginess seemed to dampen, and she shifted off of him so she could curl underneath a blanket with her head in his lap instead. 

His hands settled into a rhythmic stroking of her hair. In the worst type of deja vu, Jamie realized this was just like the previous day. Claire had no energy even for the simplest of demands on her body.

She needed rest— he reminded himself. There was need to fash. He’d wanted her to sleep more, hadn’t he? 

Then why was there such a pang in his chest? 

***

Claire woke feeling disoriented. Weariness had settled deep in her bones. It was like she was underwater with a hand clutching at her ankle and dragging her downward while she constantly tried to battle toward the surface. For a second, she couldn’t figure out where she was. There was something soft underneath her cheek, comfortable, and she didn’t feel a sense of panic. Only vague unease. 

The weight on her chest didn’t abate as she sat up. She hadn’t even managed to open her eyes yet, but the dizziness that struck her full force would have been debilitating if not for the darkness encasing her. She sank back down to lay on her side. 

“Claire?” 

The voice of her beloved tore her from the swirling that was taking place in her brain. Her heart skipped a beat at his voice— the first thing she felt acutely since she’d woken. She clung to that with all her might and opened her eyes. 

Jamie was hovering over her, his eyes swimming with concern and his expression so boyish in the way he looked at her. She felt the slight ease of relief looking up at him. Seeing his face always seemed to anchor her to the ground, to the solid reassurance of his strength. 

“Any better this morning?” he asked, but there was little hope in his voice. He already knew the answer. 

It broke her heart to say it to him. She hated to make him worry, but she didn’t have the strength anymore to hide from him. 

“No,” she answered, finding her voice breathy even to her own ears. 

She closed her eyes again and was surprised to feel the heat of a tear leak from one corner. 

Jamie sighed— a heartbreaking sound— and then his big hands came up to stroke her hair. His touch was comforting; it made her feel like she could breathe, even if only for a second before the waves crashed over her again and drove her head beneath the water. 

“I dinna ken what tae do,” Jamie said softly, helplessness straining his voice in a way that tore her open.

That was enough to force her into wakefulness again. 

Jamie looked haunted. His eyes were swimming with concern, the features of his beautiful face tight with anxiety. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself in check. Claire was too weak to sense how distraught he was, but she didn’t need to. It was painted loud and clear over every inch of his body. It killed her to see his distress and not be able to do anything about it, but she was just too tired even to try to pretend she was alright enough to reassure him. 

“I don’t know either,” her hoarse voice answered. 

His hands were moving again, coming to cradle her face between them. So warm and strong, so gentle when he touched her. Her eyes must have fallen closed again because her world narrowed down to the single point of his thumb smoothing over her cheeks. 

“Rest, mo ghraidh,” Jamie said softly. 

Her forehead tingled as he kissed it with the barest brush of lips, and then his hands disappeared from her face. 

Her eyes popped open enough to see Jamie rising from the bed to his feet. 

“What—?” she asked foggily, finding her mouth filled with fuzz, “where are you going?”

“I’ll leave ye to yer peace, sweet one,” Jamie said tenderly, returning to her side to run his hand down her face, over her shoulder, and then down the length of her body until it rested on her hip, “go back to sleep.” 

“Please don’t go,” she found herself pleading, voice airy, “please stay, just for a little while longer?” 

A whine tore from his throat as if she had struck him with a blow. He hadn’t meant to let it out, but she knew he was so pained by seeing her like this. She nearly regretted asking him until he slipped back into bed, eager, and gathered her again into his arms. He was so big, his broad chest like a wall behind her and his arms like trees that wrapped around her body. His solidness, his strength— they gave her a sense of security. Comfort like nothing else could. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, repressing a shiver that tried to wrack her body. She hated hurting him like this. She knew he was hurting because of her. But she needed him so badly it frightened her. 

“No,” he sounded devastated again, and it was killing her to keep hearing him like that, “no, mo ghraidh. Dinna say ye’re sorry. It became my job the second I decided to love ye wi’ my whole heart. I’ll always be here for ye, as ye are for me. We take turns, aye? Now it’s yer turn.” 

Jamie always knew exactly what needed to be said to assuage her guilt. The tightness in her chest eased and she relaxed back into him, feeling more grounded. His words were a reminder that this wouldn’t last forever. She would be okay— with him— and until she was better, he’d be there to hold her. 

“Go back to sleep, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said gently, “I willna leave yer side.” 

Safe in the knowledge that Jamie would keep her afloat, she let herself drift back into the murky grey depths. 

*** 

Jamie rubbed his face wearily as placed his dishes in the sink. After she’d woken up, Claire had told him to go make himself a real meal and not just throw something together as he’d been doing recently. As much as he didn’t like leaving her, he indulged his love of cooking and made an extensive chicken parmesan for himself. Before Claire, cooking used to be one of the ways he relieved stress, but he hadn’t had any time for it as of late. He certainly was stressed with watching Claire suffer from whatever was dragging her down, but of course cooking was powerless in the face of that worry. 

The thoughts consumed him, circling him like vultures. He tried to beat them back as best as he could. It had only been a few days— it was foolish to go to extremes so early. But after google searches turned up nothing helpful about sick faeries, and Claire herself had been at a loss, Jamie was left with only the theories that his own brain could come up with. Maybe she had caught a cold or some human disease that her body didn’t know how to handle? Maybe with some time and rest she would be back to her usual self. Since a doctor's visit was out of the question, Jamie had to wait and pray. 

Pray that this was nothing like watching his family get sick. 

Pray that it would pass soon. 

And try not to lose himself to the gnawing of worry inside of him. 

Once he was done cleaning up, having barely managed to eat much at all, he walked into the living room looking for Claire. 

“Mo ghraidh?” he called. 

There was no answer. Figuring she went up to the bedroom, Jamie climbed the stairs with eager energy. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand being away from her for an hour, but… well… he didn't like being away from her for an hour. 

His face was just beginning to break into a smile at the thought of holding her again as he swung into their bedroom. 

The sight inside stole it instantly, and he froze, looking at the scene in front of him with a feeling that somehow took endearment and twisted it into anguish and sympathy. 

Claire was lying on the floor, curled up on her side under her fluffy throw blanket from downstairs. 

Jamie’s heart clenched as affection warred with soft worry. He could see her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm where her hand was clutching a fold of the blanket to her chest. She wasn’t asleep— he could tell— but she laid curled up on the floor and didn’t seem to even notice him. 

“What are ye doin’ on the floor, sweet one?” he asked quietly as he knelt down next to her. He brushed a bit of her hair back from her face as her eyes opened. 

She blinked up at him slowly for a second and allowed him to gently stroke her hair before answering. 

“I’m tired,” she breathed. 

“I ken,” he said, his heart breaking and the bubble in his chest expanding painfully, “but why no’ on the bed?” 

“‘S more comfortable here,” she answered, sounding foggy. 

Jamie was perplexed for a moment before he came to the realization. She had slept on the ground her whole life. On mossy beds and leafy piles, if not just plain grass. 

A choked sound escaped him as he thought about her laying down on the ground, seeking comfort from a more familiar surface. 

“Can I lay wi’ ye a moment?” he asked through the sympathy coating his throat. 

She nodded, just a small movement of her head sliding back and forth over the carpet. As soon as he got permission, Jamie slid behind her so he could curl up against her back. At the feeling of him pressing up behind her, Claire straightened her legs a bit so Jamie could slot his own into the curve behind her knees. He draped an arm over her middle and held her close. 

“Is this alright, mo ghraidh?” he asked softly. 

“Yes,” she breathed in barely a whisper. 

So Jamie laid there on the ground with her, holding her. He wished fervently that she could find the slightest comfort— anything to ease her suffering. He more than wished. 

“God,” he prayed silently, “dinna let her slip away from me. Please. Please.” 

It took most of his willpower to keep himself from shaking under the pressure of worry. There was already enough trembling between the two of them— Claire’s body was nearly vibrating in its distress— she didn’t need him adding to that. 

“Sleep now,” he whispered in her ear, “and dinna fash. I’m here.” 

He was there. Only he was completely powerless to do anything but lay on the floor beside her and offer what little he could in the face of… Jamie didn’t even know what to call it other than suffering. 

An idea suddenly popped into his head. 

“Hold on, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said quietly into his hair. He pressed a kiss to her temple, watching her eyelashes flutter in response, and then tore himself away before he could regret leaving her. 

He all but ran down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like there was something he could do. It was small, maybe it would be insignificant, but perhaps it could ease her. And that was something. When he had grabbed the item in question, he returned upstairs. Even as he plugged it into the wall, Claire remained motionless on the ground with her eyes closed. 

The moment he turned on the space heater, however, those beautiful golds popped open to regard it with a wide gaze. It wasn’t excitement— the puir lass was too muted to look excited— but the gravity and regard that she held for the device was present. 

Jamie made sure it was pointed right at her before he made his way back over so he could take her in his arms again, positioning her in the cocoon of his body. 

“I promised ye an hour in front of the space heater, did I no’?” he said softly, trying to keep his tone light even as he felt like his heart was being thrown into a blender.

She didn’t have a witty jab about her victory nor an attempt to swindle him for more time. Instead, she was quiet for a moment before she added, “with you.”

“Aye. With me. I wouldna forget that part of the bargain, lass. It was my favorite part.” 

He felt like he was choking. This wasn’t at all how either of them had imagined the spoils of her game. She was supposed to tug him downstairs with a smirk on those lovely lips. She was supposed to force him to hold up his end of the deal as he playfully refused to turn it on. She was supposed to turn around in his arms and kiss him only a few minutes into the offered hour. 

It was supposed to be anything but this. Anything but lying quietly on the floor while Jamie scraped the bottom of the barrel for anything he could do to help her. 

“Can ye feel it, Claire?” he couldn’t help but ask, “does it feel alright?” 

She let out a shaky breath and nodded against the carpet. “Yes,” she breathed, “Thank you, Jamie.” 

That was it. Quiet and empty, her words rattled around in Jamie’s heart until they lodged like a sprinter in the beating flesh. 

“Anything else, lass? What else can I do?” he couldn’t help but ask. Beg. Plead. 

“This is nice,” she replied quietly. 

Jamie expected some sort of gesture to go with the words. A rub of his arm. A tilt of the head behind her to smile at him. Even just a shift of her body. Claire always expressed herself so physically. Only now she was still, and nothing accompanied her words except silence. 

And Jamie was left in his helplessness. 

“Alright, a leannan. Go back to yer rest now. I willna leave until ye wake again. I promise.” 

And when the second hour passed, the space heater still buzzing in front of Claire and Jamie’s back aching, he was still there with her on the floor, praying over her in whispers.

***

a/n: Please also accept my apology that this particular chapter was the gift I had for World Outlander Day. I am offering lots of hug gifs over on my twitter (@jamiemackfraser) and here if anyone needs one. Much love to you all!

Also, next chapter will be following very shortly!

Next

[willow-salix]

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?” 

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.” 

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?" 

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 

"What are you even doing?" 

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 

"Why?" 

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 

"So, what are you doing?" 

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 

"The same one?" 

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 

"Why?" 

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey." 

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!” 

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?” 

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 

"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 

“Never,” Gordon agreed. 

-x- 

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.” 

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

[waitingfortherightpartner]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (Part Twelve)

Previous Chapter - Master List

Tagging @liajiah @tiffanynguyen03 @tazzi-baby @copicania @lilystilinskicullen @rcvenqers @champagnesugamama @abundanceofcarolines @intricate-melody @marvelousmendess @keepcalm-and-beyou @mrspeacem1nusone @thecraziestcrayon @kaitlynw011 @pemik-a @tclaerh @stumbleonmywords @badassbaker​

A/N: Hello to all the new readers and to everyone who has had such sweet and lovely things to say! Thanks for reading :)

Everything hurts.

The light’s too bright and your head is throbbing and it feels like your body is on fire and every breath you take feels like you’re swallowing cacti. 

And then the mission comes flooding back to you and you’re trying to push yourself up, ignoring the pain that courses through your body, desperate to make sure–

“Easy, easy.”

A flash of red hair and suddenly Nat’s there, gently restraining you and helping you back into bed.

“Everyone’s safe, (Y/N),” she says. “It’s okay.”

“Steve?” you ask. “And Bucky?”

“Steve's fine,” she reassures. “Bucky’s–”

“Right here.” A mop of brown hair and blue eyes crashes into your narrow field of vision, and you feel yourself relax. Until you realize that you’re sitting in between the two people you’ve been trying to avoid for the past few months.

“How long have I been out?” you rasp. Nat pours you a glass of water, gently placing in a straw and positioning it so you can reach.

“Two days,” she says. “We’ve been taking turns, waiting.”

“Nat, I’m so sorry,” you say. “About how things came out.”

If you didn’t know Nat so well, you wouldn’t catch the way her grip around the glass tightens, ever so slightly. Or the flash of emotions – rage, hurt, sadness – in her eyes before she steels her gaze. 

“So you have feelings for Bucky?” she asks. Your eyes flit over to Bucky, who’s doing an excellent job avoiding your gaze. 

“Had,” you say. “Which isn’t necessarily better. But I never would have acted on them.”

“When Steve said...” she trails off. “I didn’t know what to think. You know it takes a lot to catch me off guard.”

“I think I owe you an explanation,” you say. “Both of you.”

And then you find yourself explaining the whole situation, painting Nat and Bucky a picture of the last few months. You make sure to spare no detail, desperate to make them understand and hate you a little bit less. True to her tradecraft, Nat’s face remains unreadable, leaving you to wonder how she feels after you wrap up your story. Bucky’s still staring out the window, his face just as blank as Nat’s. It’s your fault for having so many spy friends.

“Wow,” she finally says, after you’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Nat says. “I feel like I would’ve understood.”

“You’re scary as shit!” you protest, and that makes her smile. “But in all seriousness, I didn’t want you to hate me. I didn’t realize how I felt about Bucky, or how I thought I felt, until after you started dating, and I didn’t want you to think I was an asshole.”

“So you pushed me away,” she says. 

“Not the most mature move,” you admit. “But easier than dealing with my feelings.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nat says. “Thank you. For being honest.”

“Thanks for listening,” you say. “I don’t want to push you, but are we good?”

“Of course,” she says, wrapping you in a ginger hug. Pain shoots through you, but you ignore it. “Now that you’re awake, I’m going to go finish writing up my mission briefing, if that’s ok.”

“Of course,” you say, though your heart begins to race at the thought of being left alone with Bucky. “Love you, Nat.”

“Ditto,” she smiles, squeezing your hand before sweeping out of the room. 

Leaving you with Bucky.

"You’ve been awfully quiet,” you say, your heart beating a mile a minute.

“It’s a lot to take in,” he says. 

“I understand,” you say. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you have any questions for me?”

“It’s just...when Nat and I broke up, I was looking for a reason why,” he says. “And when I got your letter, it felt like a sign. Like, maybe I was always supposed to be with you and not Nat, and that’s why she and I didn’t work out. And so I thought...”

He trails off, and you realize this is the most open you’ve heard Bucky be in the whole time you’ve known him. You fight an internal battle in your head, but eventually let yourself give in to your instinct, reaching out and taking his hand. He looks up at you, finally meeting your eyes for the first time. 

“But the feelings weren’t there,” Bucky continues. “I just got them mixed up, wanting to make sense of everything. It took me a while to realize that. I love you, (Y/N), but not like I loved Nat. Love Nat.”

“That’s fair,” you say. “And I’m sorry. That I confused you. Those letters were never supposed to get out, obviously. That was just me, processing my feelings on my own.”

“You told Nat that you don’t have feelings for me anymore,” he says and you nod.

"I’d never been in love,” you said. “Not for real, until Steve. I didn’t know what it felt like, and by the time I figured it out...I think I was just a little too late.”

“You don’t know that,” Bucky says. “I’ve seen the two of you together.”

“And I’ve seen him and Sharon together,” you say. “It’s hard to feel like they’re not meant to be together. I think things got messy and confusing during our whole fake-dating escapade, but I don’t really think it was ever real for him the way it was for me.”

“That’s not true.”

You look up to find Wanda standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to throw yourself into her arms, settling instead for the gentle hug she wraps you in.

“What do you mean?”

“I have something to show you,” she says, and you realize she’s holding the teal fabric box you kept your letters in. She sets it down on the table and gingerly removes the cover. You snort when you see the contents.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” you tease.

“It is.”

“Wanda, you’re the sole reason the New York tabloid industry is functioning.”

“Shut up.”

Bucky looks over your shoulder and lets out a low whistle. 

“How many clippings you got in there, Wanda?”

The answer: a lot. Wanda seems to have collected various tabloid and magazine articles and pictures of your fake relationship with Steve. Everyday pictures of the two of you living your lives together. Each picture seems to strengthen the dull ache in your heart, and you force yourself to look away, up into Wanda’s eyes.

“Why are you showing me these, Wanda?” you ask. 

“Look,” she says simply. 

She picks up a photo and places it in front of you. It’s from the Coney Island date, while the two of you were watching the fireworks. Steve’s arms are wrapped around your waist, his head nestled in your hair. Your arms rest over his and you’re leaning back into him as the two of you look up at the sky in awe. 

She lays down another picture, the two of you eating at some restaurant. Steve is feeding you a piece of chicken with his chopsticks that you had just taught him how to use. 

A picture of the two of you walking Ollie, you laughing at some joke Steve had just told you, your body folded perfectly into his like it belongs there.  

A picture from one of the many red carpet events you’d been harangued into attending. You’re looking straight ahead at the cameras, a perfect smile plastered on your face. But Steve is focused on you, and you feel your heart stop as your fingers reach up to trace the image. His eyes look so soft, and there’s a small smile on his lips, a smile just for you. 

And in that moment, you know.

“I have to tell him,” you say quietly. You look up and Bucky nods, a small smile on his face. 

“What are you waiting for?”

-

Next Chapter

[escape-from-reality-fics]

The Accidental Revelation ❋ E-Chan

↳ Pairing: Lee Changmin (E-Chan)/Reader

↳ Word Count: 3,739

⁙ Summary: You and Changmin go to a party to celebrate your friends recent successes. It doesn’t exactly go as planned when a secret gets revealed during a fight

⚠️ Warnings: Contains cursing, fighting, mentions of body image and a brief mention of some adult themes. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these!

“I’m so excited!~” You can’t help but squeal, wiggling happily in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car. Changmin glanced over at you from his spot behind the steering wheel and chuckled, enjoying your sparkly eyed expression. 

“You haven’t seen Kenzie in a while huh? Even though her and Junseo are a thing now,” Changmin mused to himself, smoothly turning the car onto another street, getting closer and closer to your destination.

“It’s because she’s always busy! She told me the last time we spoke that she had like 20 bookings for this month alone and another 15 people wait-listed. Her business is taking off,” you praise her, feeling proud of your best friend for pursuing her dream of being a photographer. 

Changmin reaches for your hand, bringing it to his face to leave a sweet peck against your palm. You giggle to yourself, lacing your fingers with his. You turn back to stare out the window, always keen to watch the surroundings fly by in a rush of colors. Your mind was also turning, having found out some very important news just a week ago. You’d found out you’re pregnant and you had no clue how to bring it up to Changmin. This trip would be the perfect distraction from the conflict you were feeling.

Ten minutes later Changmin is pulling to a stop outside of a rustic house, something not very common in South Korea but very much beautiful. The both of you exit the car, stretching your legs from the not-so long, but traffic filled drive. Changmin comes around to your side of the car, putting an arm around your shoulders as you tilt your head back to admire his handsome face. 

“How did I manage to get the most handsome man in the world to be my boyfriend huh? I must have done some good deeds in my previous life,” you joke, watching as his mouth splits into a wide grin, leaning down to peck his lips to yours briefly. You sigh wistfully, your eyes slipping closed and feeling like your life was really complete in that moment. 

“C’mon my love, we have a party to crash,” Changmin reminds you, as your eyes peeled open, his hand pulling you along. Reaching the front door you leaned forward and knocked, also ringing the doorbell for good measure. A minute or so passed before the door swung open, revealing the figure of your best friend Kenzie. 

“AHHHHH! I’m so happy you guys could make it!” She screeched, rushing forward to tackle you into a tight hug. You loudly cackled and hugged her back, tilting her from side to side. Changmin watched the outburst with the air of someone who has seen it countless times, slipping by and heading into the house where you hear shouts of his name. 

“Come on in. Everyone else is in the living room playing Uno, but I’m pretty sure Harry-June and Sungmin are in the kitchen raiding the snacks by now. I told them they could only have some once you two arrived,” Kenzie explained, leading the way into her big house. You were well acquainted with the layout having been there times and times before but the size still always took you by surprise. 

“Well hello boys!~ Who’s winning? It better be Seongsik because I have a bet with Changmin I am NOT losing,” you laugh, watching as they all whip their heads to where you’re standing. 

“Well sad to say (Y/N) but you might be losing that bet. I’ve got the most cards,” Seongsik laughs as you crumple beside Dongil on the couch, pretend groaning in despair. Yuku laughs from where he sits a few feet away and you smile back at the ray of sunshine himself. Turning back, you watch as they continue their game, Heechan being crowned the winner. Changmin returns from the kitchen with Harry-June and Sungmin, the three of them carrying armfuls of chips and chocolates. 

“I think some people have already started eating without us. How rude,” you tease, pointing out the chocolate smears on the lips of Sungmin who blushes profusely at being caught. Him and Harry-June settle down on the floor around the coffee table, the huge L shaped couch being filled by everyone else. Changmin shoves Gwanghyun over, taking the spot on your left as the younger boy complains, squeezing closer to Seongsik. 

“So now that everyone is here, we have snacks and drinks and the games are set up, are we ready to get this party started?!” Kenzie announces, as everyone cheers, excited for what’s sure to be a fun night. 

Kenzie grabs her PS4 controllers, handing them out to whoever wins rock-paper-scissors. The winners end up being Sungmin, Junseo, Changmin and Heechan. They decide to boot up some type of shooting game, becoming immersed fairly quickly. 

“Hey (Y/N) did you want to come play Cards Against Humanity with us? Or do you wanna watch the boys play their game?” Seongsik asks, pulling out the big black box and getting it set up on the coffee table. 

“Sure but just to warn y’all I’m gonna win,” you say cockily, sliding down from your spot beside Changmin, moving to sit at the coffee table. You swipe up your cards, taking a peek at your options before smirking. 

You pass the time by playing the game, occasionally having other boys switch out to play some games on the PS4. Changmin let’s one of the younger boys take his controller, needing a break from shooting computer generated aliens. You’re in the middle of placing a card down when you feel his hands run through your hair, leaning back to further his ministrations. 

“Minnie?” You pout, staring up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, obviously wanting something. He stares back down at you, replicating your pout horribly before whining back. 

“Yes (N/N)? What can I do for you?” 

“Can you get me cake or chocolate or something? I really want something sweet all of a sudden,” you ask, barely finishing your sentence before he’s standing up and strolling to the kitchen. 

“Wow you have him whipped huh?” Gwanghyun teases from beside you, placing his card down and waiting for Harry-June to read them out. Yuku leans over to ask Sungmin what whipped means, nodding his head seriously as the older boy answers. 

“He’s not whipped! He’s just being a caring boyfriend is all,” you shove him playfully before letting out a loud whoop at winning the game. Kenzie, Gwanghyun and Heechan all sigh at their respective losses. 

“Hey I’m gonna run and grab some drinks from the garage really quick, don’t start the next game without me!” Kenzie warns, grabbing a hold of Junseo as she passes him, basically being voluntold into helping her. The boy himself looks quite smitten however, a blush painted across his cheeks as his girlfriend tugs him away. You stand up from your spot and shake out the numbness in your legs from sitting cross-legged. 

“I’m gonna go pee really fast. Be right back,” you inform Harry-June who scrunches his nose up while at your too much information moment. Yuku nods from beside him, giving you a small thumbs up as he shuffles the cards. 

Ruffling his hair you stroll to the bathroom and do what you need to do, taking a bit of time in there to freshen up and fix any stray hairs. You barely take 5 minutes in the bathroom, returning quickly to the living room but stopping in your tracks. 

On the coffee table is an empty plate, chocolate icing smears present. Kenzie is sitting barely a foot away, licking the exact same icing off a fork. For some unknown reason this fills you with annoyance. 

“What’re you eating?” You huff, coming closer to the coffee table but not sitting down quite yet. She looks up at you, eyeing the way your hands are held on your hips and your mouth set in a small frown. 

“Oh there was a piece of cake sitting here so I just took the liberty of eating it. I think it was the last piece too but I’m not too sure,” she says, reaching forward on the table to deal herself some cards, before looking back up at you. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit down and play another game?”

“I was until someone had to go and eat the cake that was mine,” you respond snootily, arms now crossed over your chest as you shifted your weight to your left hip, something that was a clear tell for you being mad. 

“Yours? (Y/N) it was literally just sitting here on the table. No one’s name was on it,” Kenzie rolled her eyes, believing it was silly to be arguing about a slice of cake. That was the final straw for you.

“Are you kidding me, Kenzie? Usually if there is food sitting somewhere and no one is near it you’d at least ask who it belongs to!” You growl angrily, jabbing a finger in her direction. The boys are starting to notice the fight building up, wearily looking between the two of you. It’s Junseo who bites the bullet and tries to calm the both of you down.

“Let’s just take a breath here. Can’t we just get (Y/N) another piece of cake? Problem solved!” Junseo says soothingly, putting himself between you both as Kenzie stands up to meet your fiery gaze. Yuku and Harry-June are nervously glancing between the two of you, not expecting their older sister figures to fight. 

“Uh that would be a problem solved if that wasn’t the last piece of chocolate cake,” Changmin whispers into the air, the tension becoming so thick it could be cut with a knife. Kenzie gently pushes Junseo to the side, stepping in front of you and giving you a fake sympathetic smile. 

“Maybe if (Y/N) didn’t feel the need to be a fatass all the time we wouldn’t be having this problem. You don’t need to eat shit all the time you know?” Kenzie hisses, pointing at the small amount of chub around your belly, something you were always insecure about. 

“Are you being fucking for real right now? I don’t eat like shit all the time. You just have to be a fucking bitch and mess with me!” You seethe, waving an arm at her. 

By this point Changmin had also stepped forward, trying and failing to pull you away from the situation. Junseo is doing the same to Kenzie but the both of you refuse to budge. You can see from the corner of your eye the worried expressions and stances of the other boys, preparing for a fight to go down.

“I will actually fucking drag you right now if you don’t shut the fuck up!” Kenzie yells, shoving your shoulder as you stumble back a bit. You steel yourself and give her a good push back, seething in anger. 

“Fucking try me, I dare you! You’re too fucking pussy!” 

“Oh really?! I’ll fucking drag you across the floor and outta this house! I don’t care that you’re pregnant!” She screams in your face, raising her hand and slapping you harshly as you reel back in shock never expecting her to use that against you as she was the only one you confided in. Everyone around you had gone quiet, expressions varying from shock to surprise. Changmin’s hand loosely wraps around your wrist and you vaguely hear a shocked whisper of the word ‘pregnant’ but you’re too far gone to care. 

“Oh it’s fucking on you hoe! I’ll drag you any day whether I’m pregnant or not!” You yell, giving her a harsh punch to the side of her jaw, grabbing her hair for good measure. She retaliates and starts clawing at you as the two of you break into a full on fist fight. 

It lasts barely more than 15 seconds before everyone is breaking the two of you up. Junseo and Seongsik drag Kenzie away, taking her in the direction of the kitchen as you notice with triumph that she is sporting a few good scratches and bruises. 

Changmin takes this chance to gently lead you away, finding the guest bedroom and sitting you on the fluffy duvet, crossing his arms as he stares down at you with a mix of disappointment and concern. 

“She had it coming to her so don’t you go giving me a huge speech about me being in the wrong,” you grumble, crossing your arms but wincing, noticing the scratch marks going down your arm. Changmin notices and sighs, going into the on suite bathroom and wetting a face cloth to clean you up. 

“I’m not gonna lecture you sweetheart. I just wanna know what went through your head to start a full on fist fight with your best friend of 17 years… Over a piece of cake?” Changmin asks, pushing away hair from your face that Kenzie had pulled. 

“I-I don’t even know honestly. I was just looking forward to that cake and she took it from me. All that I felt was immense anger and she didn’t make it any better by not apologizing,” you murmur, putting your face in your hands as what you’d done settles in. Silence settles heavily into the air, Changmin shifting his weight as he stands crouches in front of you, dabbing at the scratches on your arm. 

“What she said…. Is it true? About you, uhm, being pregnant?” Changmin’s hesitant and fragile voice filters through your ears, making your head shoot up to look at him with surprise. You feel your heart thrumming in your chest out of pure nervousness, not knowing whether he would be happy or upset that you were expecting. 

“Changmin I-I was going to tell you I swear! I just didn’t know how and I didn’t know if you’d be angry or upset with me. We’re still so young and we aren’t married. Heck, you’re only in the beginning of your career and I haven’t even started mine. I’m just so scared,” you finish in tears, sobs escaping as you hastily try and wipe your eyes. 

Changmin doesn’t say anything, instead just gathering you into his arms. You bury your tear soaked face into his chest as he murmurs soothing words, running his hands up and down your back to comfort you. 

“I’m definitely not angry. Shocked for sure, but never angry. I sorta wish I was told in a different way as well, but I’m happy! I’m gonna be a dad!” Changmin says, a smile prominent on his lips and happy tears welling in his eyes. You smile back, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a long peck on the lips.

“I’m so thankful to have you be my soulmate,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him pull you closer onto his lap intending to further what you were starting. You were almost on board but stopped and pulled away, feeling the stinging pain on your cheek as a reminder of what just went down. 

“As much as I’d love to continue what we were starting, I should probably go see if Kenzie is okay and apologize,” you hum, standing up from Changmin’s lap as he groans, trying to fix his pants to hide the tent that had started forming. 

“Fine, but you owe me later,” he grumbles, following you out into the hall as you lace your fingers with his. You giggle at his obvious irritation.

“Don’t worry baby when we get home I’ll make it up to you,” you whisper seductively, cackling at the expression of pure want that flutters across his face. Shaking your head you continue on your way, stepping into the living room moments later.

Most of the boys were all sitting around the TV, playing their video game again and looking up in surprise when you entered the room. You glance around and notice that Kenzie, Junseo and Seongsik aren’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Hey (Y/N), are you feeling a bit better now?” Dongil asks gently, wearily eyeing the scratch marks on your arm and reddened hand print on your cheek. Yuku also is staring at you worriedly and you feel bad for setting such a horrible example for the younger boy. Nodding, you give Dongil and Yuku a small, sheepish smile. 

“Yeah I’m all good. I sorta need to talk to Kenzie though?” You trail off, feeling everyone's sympathetic stares on you. Heechan nods in the direction of the kitchen, focusing on winning the game. You huff at him but shuffle towards the kitchen anyways, Changmin letting go of your hand to go join the others. 

You end up peeking your head around the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Kenzie’s back as she flies around while ordering Seongsik and Junseo to do things for her. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you come out from around the corner, catching Junseo’s eyes as he gives you a small smile. 

“Ah I think Seongsik-hyung and I should go see if the others need anything!” Junseo squawks, yanking Seongsik out of the room as the older boy complains. Kenzie goes to protest their retreat before taking notice of you, the words dying on her lips. 

“Uh hi,” you say awkwardly, giving a small wave as she eyes you up. Kenzie purses her lips and turns back around to whatever she is doing, making you deflate a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you hear come from where she is standing by the counter, furiously mixing something in a large stainless steel bowl. You almost didn’t catch what she said, having to strain your ears to hear her whispered apology. 

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I started a fight all because of a stupid slice of cake. And with my friend of 17 years at that,” you chuckle, moving to stand beside her as she looks up at you with tears shining in her eyes. 

“I didn’t mean any of what I said. Words just spilled out and I said horrible things. I’m so sorry!” She says remorsefully, wiping a tear that slides down her cheek. Pulling her into a hug you shush her. 

“We both said some pretty bad things and even got physical but sometimes shit happens. All we can do is acknowledge it, apologize and move on,” you pull away and hand her a paper towel from the roll on the counter. Kenzie chuckles and dabs at her eyes.

“You’re right of course. Which is why I’m making a whole cake for you and Changmin to take home. I also shouldn’t have outed your pregnancy like that. I knew you were scared to tell him and I still used it against you,” she looks down at her sock covered feet shamefully as you hum. 

“Well I would have never found a better way to tell him so at least I have a story we can tell our kid and laugh about,” you tease, pulling a loud laugh from Kenzie who shakes her head in amusement. 

“Friends?” You say, reaching a finger into the cake batter on the counter, smearing it across her cheek as she squeals. Kenzie ends up returning the favour, the two of you now matching. 

“Friends.” 

“Well I guess we should go reassure the boys that we aren’t ripping each other's hair out anymore!” You say cheerfully, watching as Kenzie pops the cake batter into a baking pan and puts it in the oven, setting a timer. 

The two of you exit the kitchen, giggling at each other and wiping the cake batter of your faces. The living room had gone strangely silent and you looked up to see everyone wearily watching. Changmin and Junseo are on the edges of their seats, wary about another fight breaking out. 

“Don’t worry gentlemen. Kenzie and I have duked it out and we’re all good now!” You say, pulling her into a side hug and giving her a noogie to which she whines at. 

“Good cause if I had to break up another fight I would start charging fees,” Gwanghyun mumbles, watching the two of you fondly with a slightly disgruntled expression. Plopping yourself on the couch, you snuggle into Changmin’s side. 

“So you’re both good now? No more fights over cake?” He asks, raising an eyebrow mockingly. You hum, putting a finger to your chin as you pretend to think.

“Well there’s no guarantee I won’t punch her if she steals my cake again. We’ll see!” Laughing at their expressions, shaking your head. 

“So uh, pretty sure you all heard what Kenzie said earlier and I’m pretty sure you are all eagerly waiting for me to confirm or deny. Yes I am pregnant and yes you will all be uncles. And an aunt,” you announce, watching as all the boys plus Kenzie stand up and start cheering and exclaiming loudly. 

“So our kid is gonna have 8 crazy uncles and 1 crazy aunt. I hope they’re prepared,” Changmin cackles, watching his band mates and friends still celebrating. 

“And to think, this all happened because of a piece of chocolate cake!” 

~17 Years Later~

“So Dad only found out you were pregnant with me because you and Auntie Kenzie had a fist fight over cake?” Your son asks you, watching his Aunts and Uncles chatter and laugh with each other around your spacious backyard. 

“Yep! And on the way home I tried suggesting to your Dad to let me name you chocolate cake but he said no, sadly. He said no for your younger brothers as well,” you sigh wistfully, remembering each time you had asked Changmin to let you name at least one of your three children after what you both liked to call “The Accidental Revelation”. 

“Mom, I mean this with all respect, but sometimes I don’t know what Dad sees in you,” your youngest son laughs at your offended expression. 

“Hey I love your Mom a lot! Even if her choice of baby names is a bit…. Unconventional,” Changmin comments, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“EW NO PDA!” Your middle son yells as he tries to cover his younger brother’s eyes, getting shoved away.

“Maybe we should try for a fourth and finally name them chocolate cake!” You say cheerfully, clasping your hands together as Changmin and your sons stare at you in disbelief. 

“NO!”

“Aw man!”

[eclecticmiasma]

Loveless (Yandere!Giorno x Reader)

🌠Commissioned Fic!🌠

SFW

“We finally have the life we always dreamed of...yet you scorn me at every turn.”  

[Warnings: general yandere scariness, captivity]

Art credit:  荒巻ミカ on Pixiv

Another gilded trinket lays scattered across the floor. Thick silence hangs in the air like an asphyxiant, snuffing out all words before they even leave your throat. Your eyes pierce his own, defiant, enraged to be in this position once again. By now, he should have accepted that this will always be the outcome of his attempts to purchase your love and affection. But the nearly imperceptible signs of hurt that tug at his features tell you that he hasn’t.

All you had wanted was to speak with him. After months of swimming in deep depression, isolated and terrified, you finally worked up the courage to appeal to the kind young boy you know is walled deep inside of your captor. Everything about his appearance has changed, but the love and passion in his liquid blue eyes is the same. You were there when he first set foot in Italy, after all.

Not as Don Giorno Giovanna, but as Haruno.

When he saw you in the doorway of his study, he lit up like you hadn’t seen in years. He had dreamed of the day you would come to him of your own accord. He promptly ushered his guards from the fire-lit room and took your trembling hand in his own. It really was Haruno, you thought, as he smiled that familiar sheepish grin. The realization put you at ease.

“I…wanted to see you,” You lied, swallowing your fear. The warmth that radiated from Giorno was nearly palpable. His lithe arms pulled you into a gentle embrace, and for the first time you felt him relax. He buried his nose in your hair and squeezed you tight- almost like he was afraid to let go. You couldn’t bring yourself to hold him back, “…t-to talk to you.”

When he pulled away, he looked you up and down. He was positively beaming with pride.

“Anything you want, tesora, it’s yours.”

You bit your lip as he led you to a plush sofa next to the fireplace. Its warmth grounded you to reality. Giorno asked if you wanted something to drink, but you knew you couldn’t stomach even an ounce of liquid. Even water made you nauseous as of late.

Minutes passed before you found your voice. Giorno simply watched the shadows of your features dance in the light of the flames. He looked so sweet in that moment, so genuinely happy. Part of you wondered if you’d misunderstood him, that maybe he truly hadn’t meant to hurt you. Without thinking, you squeezed his hand with real affection.

“You…sent me another gift,” You started, pulling a rose gold locket from your dress. It was inlaid with tiny diamonds that spelled your name, and undeniably beautiful- but the sight of it made bile rise in your throat. It was the final straw. Before Giorno could respond, you turned his hand and pressed it against his palm, “I came here to give it back.”

His expression faded like ashes scattered by the wind. His brows knitted together as he slowly put the pieces together. You weren’t there to finally return his affection, you weren’t there to proclaim yourself as his own- you came to change his heart. A feat no one had ever achieved. His head nodded and a small, resigned smile appeared. It was like he hadn’t even heard you.

“I know it isn’t much, but think of it as a token of my love,” He replied, looking past your exasperated stare and holding the locket up to your neck. Something inside of you snapped and you yanked the glittering necklace from his fingertips.

“This is not love!” You shrieked, throwing the jewelry with all of your might. It broke and speckled the marbled floor.

And now you’re here. Sitting in the wake of your combined decisions. Drowning in the air around you. The fire, once comforting, feels like it’s burning you alive. Tears streak your face as despair sets in. When the silence is finally broken, you hear the crack in Giorno’s voice.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” He suddenly stands, stepping over the shards of jewelry to stand before the fireplace. His shadow looms over the entire study, “For years, I’ve done nothing but vie for your affection, but use everything within my power to protect you. We finally have the life we always dreamed of…Yet you scorn me at every turn.”

“The life we dreamed of?” Despite your trepidation, you find yourself moving to your feet, temper rising, “We used to dream of packing our little bags and building a giant tree house to live in, not this! You grew that tree in the alley behind my place that we would always sit in and pretend we were finally adults…that we were finally free-”

“We were children,” He interrupted, still refusing to face you, “We knew nothing.”

“Haruno knew that it’s wrong to take people as your prisoner. Haruno knew he didn’t want to follow in his parents’ footsteps,” Giorno finally whips around to face you, incredulous, but you continue your rant unabated, “Haruno hated people like you, Haruno would have understood that you abuse me and then buy my affection just like your father did to your mother. I refuse to be bought, Haruno-”

Blinding pain radiates up the left side of your face. It takes a second to register that you’ve been struck. Even Giorno stares at his open palm, shocked. You clutch your cheek and clench your teeth through fresh tears. He swallows hard, and his expression turns to stone.

“Haruno was a scared little boy that had no agency, beaten and broken into silence,” He takes a step forward, and you take a step back.

“Haruno didn’t understand that some people in this world are born evil, that nothing can ever fix them,” Your right leg catches the wooden coffee table and you tumble to the floor.

“Haruno had to grow up and learn that the only way you can protect that which you love is to hold on to it for dear life,” His voice raises to a fever pitch. Your arms rush to cover your face in anticipation of being struck once again.

But it never comes.

When the moment passes, you dare to peek through blurry eyes. The room around you is lush with greenery, an explosion of flowers and vines. A thick oak tree had grown where the sofa was, branches nearly reaching the ceiling. You lower your arms and gaze around the study in a mixture of wonder and fear. Giorno stands above your cowering form, back hunched, sobbing.

“Haruno is dead!” He shouts, collapsing at your feet. The tree breathes and stretches with life, puncturing holes in the roof above. Bits of dust and debris tumble down around you, but Giorno seems to not notice. You watch, entranced, as he cries.

“G-Giorno…” You mutter, afraid to reach out to him but resigned that you must. As much as he has hurt you, you just can’t bring yourself to run away.

Giorno remembers the last time he cried. Flashes of his own body impaled on the Colosseum gates, of blood dripping, of Narancia’s limp body as he lay it to rest on a bed of flowers- he remembers it well. It wrenches his heart, twists it so he can’t breathe. Nearly everyone who has ever been important to him has been ripped away by the cruelest of fates.

Except for you.

“I’m sorry,” He chokes, clutching himself tight. For some reason, fate has left you alone. Despite his immense love for you, your body continues to live and breathe just as he does. But you’ve made it abundantly clear that fate doesn’t have to intervene to remove you from his life. If something doesn’t change, he could lose you all the same, “I’m so sorry…”

You tentatively reach out and touch his shoulder. He shakes his head, but makes no move to stop you. Even as your other hand gently strokes his hair, fingertips gliding along his disheveled golden locks, you remain silent. As much as you want to comfort him, you won’t lie to him any longer. His apology remains unaccepted.

“If you’re sorry, if you truly love me like you say you do, you have to let me go…” Giorno’s tear-filled eyes meet yours. He looks terrified. A vision of Haruno weeping as you checked his face for bruises briefly replaces him. Your hands unconsciously slide to cup his reddened cheeks, just like back then, “I love you Giorno, I always have. But this has to be on my own terms. Don’t you see?”

The fear in his eyes dims slightly. His own hands cover yours. They’re larger than they used to be, and more calloused, but comforting all the same. He swallows hard and forces himself to smile softly.

“I understand,” He croaks, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. Relief flows through you as you release your breath. Perhaps Haruno truly is gone, and you’ll never reclaim the memories you have with him. But that doesn’t mean Giorno can’t change, that you can’t rebuild your relationship into something just as beautiful as you once had. For the first time in months, you feel a sliver of optimism.

As elation overtakes you, you throw your arms around Giorno, “I knew that I could reach you,” You smile into his neck, tears staining his shoulders. Hesitantly, he holds you back. The last time you touched him voluntarily was a distant memory. As his hand rubs circles into the small of your back, he can’t help but smile himself.

“I understand…” He assures you again, sighing against you. Some of the fauna that covers the room morphs back into furniture as his emotions settle. The burgeoning tree works its way back into a sofa. Giorno holds you tight against him, and for once you don’t mind. You hardly even notice the changes around you, content in your hope that one day Giorno will be himself again. You don’t even notice the thin vine that coils itself up your leg and around your waist.

Up your abdomen.

Over your ribs.

By the time you’re aware of it, it’s reducing your airflow by squeezing tight like a boa constrictor. Puzzled, you open your mouth to speak. Pink flower petals fall out from where your tongue once was. Giorno strokes your hair behind your ears, shushing the panicked noises that escape your throat.

“I understand.”

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[gumnut-logic]

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Blood in the Rivers: VIII

A/N: I apologize for the wait (again). Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on the last chapter. And thank you for all the shenanigans about dogs and unicorns last night. You all make me smile

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: T - mentions of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, my continued overuse of italics

Word Count: 9.2k (Don’t look at me)

Read Chapters I-VII here! Or on Ao3!

Chapter Eight: Pockets Full of Pebbles

“Raise your elbow.”

The bow was a bit too big for her little hands, even if it had been specially made just for her. But she did as her father bid and tried to focus on the target just a few feet away in the courtyard outside the keep’s armory.

“Perfect. Now loose.”

The arrow soared through the air and hit the side of the target. A shrieking giggle soon erupted from her throat as her father’s strong arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her into the air.

“You are a natural, my darling girl! My little warrior!” His smiling lips pressed a kiss against her cheek as she continued to laugh.

“Oh, Brynden. You will have her running wild if you continue,” Vaella said, fondness in her tone betraying her love for her husband and child.

Brynden adjusted his grip on Y/N so he could hold her a little closer, little legs wrapping around his waist, and he pressed another kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “She is already wild. Aren’t you, Y/N?”

There were few rivers in Dorne. The Tullys drew their strength from the river, and it was to the river they returned when their lives had run their course. But the nearest was too far. She would not delay his soul’s rest any more than necessary. “All rivers lead to the sea, darling girl,” her father had once said. So, the Summer Sea was her only choice. It wasn’t the muddied rivers around Riverrun. It wasn’t The Trident in The Vale where her father had laid her mother to rest. “All rivers lead to the sea,” she repeated her father’s words.

She barely remembered filling a small boat with kindling and stones and small slips of parchment before carefully placing her father’s head inside, atop the makeshift body she’d made from rolls of black fabric and straw.

She would never recover the rest of his body. There had been a note shoved behind his teeth: his body was fed to a caged bear at Harrenhal. Another desecration. Oberyn had matched it by having Ilyn’s body hacked to pieces.

The words of a familiar prayer slipped by her lips as she finished, hoping his soul would find rest in the Seven Heavens and that he would be reunited with her mother. “Goodbye, papa.” The words were strangled in her throat.

Ellaria quietly stepped to her side. Oberyn soon followed. Harmen and Daisy took their places, too. Without a word, they each placed a hand on the boat and helped shove the small tender out onto the gentle waves of the sea. Her heart was in her throat as she watched it start to pull away from the shore and then Daemon was there, handing her the bow and arrow. Y/N nocked the arrow with her bandaged hand and murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ to an injured-but-healing Trystane as he lit the end, letting it blaze with orange fire. A steadying breath is all she gave herself before she pulled the bow taut with perfect posture, just like her father taught, and let it loose. The arrow hit the boat and it erupted in flames. Her hands shook as she finally let the bow drop to her side. The stitches on her palm had torn. She didn’t feel it. Blood dripped onto the sand.

The boat drifted away and she watched until it sunk beneath the water.

**

The Realm had descended into chaos. Myrcella and her Lannister guards had disappeared the night Ilyn had tried to kill Trystane and Doran. Westerland armies tried to cross the Red Mountains into Dorne on the Prince’s Pass but were largely pushed back by the House Fowler armies. House Yronwood raised their banners and fortified the Bone Way, waiting for the Lannisters to try again.

Y/N had been wordlessly invited to join Oberyn, a healing Doran, and the lords and ladies of Dorne who had been at the Water Gardens for the feast and never left. All of them were calling for retaliation. For war. The men and women sequestered in the cooled undercroft serving as a war room did not bat a lash when she joined them. Some even voiced their approval for her plans, stating that she was a natural tactician, “a woman after Princess Nymeria’s own heart!” It almost made her smile. It was a small solace, to know that her opinion was valued enough to earn a seat at the table.

But it had kept long hours. Longer still when she would hide away in Sunspear’s grand library, poring over centuries-old texts about the Red Keep or Casterly Rock, trying to find some slip of information that could be used as a tool against the Lannisters. It had almost become some sort of sad little game to wonder who would be sent in to ask her back to bed.

“You are falling asleep in your seat,” Sansa would say. “Go to bed.”

“You look ill. You will be ill if you do not sleep,” Arya would grumble.

"You must sleep, My Tully,” Ellaria would whisper as she would gently massage the back of her neck. “Come lay with me.”

And sometimes it would work. But sometimes she would wave them on. But she found a surprising companion. Obella, not yet seventeen, quietly helped her find books in the library and show Y/N her own findings—mostly battle formations that had faded from common knowledge but would be brutally efficient. They came to a soft companionability, taking turns to bring food and hot tea to the library when the night grew dark or relighting candles that snuffed themselves out.

“Why do you come here?” Y/N finally asked after their fifth night together.

“I cannot wield a sword like Obara or a bow like you—or even a lance like Elia. But I do want to help.”

She said it with such conviction that it fractured a part of Y/N’s already broken heart. She only nodded and pushed a steaming cup of tea toward her with a sad sort of smile. “You’re helping more than you know.”

Obara, Elia, and Arya were her companions at the training grounds. The two Sand Snakes seemed to innately know the anger that had infested her bloodstream and would silently bandage Y/N’s fingers when she would rub them raw with overuse against the string of her bow.

She was a fine archer and Obara had taken it upon herself to find Y/N a Martell guard who preferred the short blades she was more comfortable with to help her train with those as well.

Her hand ached. She pulled the stitches from her skin on her own, too early for the ugly, jagged wound to be fully healed. But she did it anyway in the dead of night, tired of feeling the scratch of the knots against her palm. Obara said nothing when she saw the messy work when she bandaged Y/N’s hand the morning after

Obara would stand behind her father’s chair when she cared to attend the war stratagem but largely kept to the training grounds with their cavalry and infantry.

Time had turned strange. Days and nights melting into each other without any sort of rest. Tracking the date had not been a necessity or want. She simply needed to do all she could to help. To train. To lend her voice at the stratagem meetings. She could rest later.

Just before one of these meetings Y/N noticed a shaking servant, holding a crumpled missive in his hands. The seal of the Tyrells was broken at the edge. The poor soul looked like he was headed toward the gallows. “I’ll take it for you,” she murmured.

The servant mumbled a quiet but reverent “thank you, Princess,” before all but shoving it into her hand and then pulling open the heavy door to let her in. Her thumb slid beneath the broken seal and she quickly scanned the words, stomach curling with each line of ink

Oberyn noticed the fright on her face within a moment. “What is it, my moonlight?” He asked and pressed a kiss to her cheek before she handed him the letter.

She was thankful that only Doran was present when Oberyn’s beautiful face slid into something monstrous as he read. He curled his fist around the letter as Doran lifted his head from the pile of missives from far-off Lords from the east coast of Dorne, keeping him abreast of any movement or changes in scheme they needed to employ. “Oberyn?”

“Myrcella and her guards washed up in Blackwater Bay.”

“And the Lannisters think we had a hand in it?”

“According to Olenna Tyrell, yes; Cersei thinks we killed Myrcella and she wants all of our heads on spikes.” Oberyn threw the remnants of the warning onto the table with a snarl.

While Y/N knew she would pray for the little princess’ soul to be carried off into the Seven Heavens when she was alone that night, her mind quickly turned toward how they would deal with this newest development. “They must have sailed near the Stepstones. Pirates and raiders-"

“The Lions do not care for logic, my moonlight. They have deemed us guilty.”

Her gut churned. She wanted blood, yes. But not Myrcella’s—not the innocent.

Before any other arguments or plans could be made—the door burst open and Elia was careening into the room, out of breath and dark eyes wild. “Ships! Greyjoy and Stark banners!”

Y/N scarcely recalled leaping up the stairs or dashing through the fortress and out into the dying sunlight to see the ships on the horizon—swathes of grey fabric and black wood rising from the waves like the Deep Ones of legend. Small tenders were already in the sea and rowing toward the shore. One of them had tied a bit of white fabric to their bow.

“Should we trust them?” Y/N asked.

Oberyn, at her back, sighed. “The Starks have not betrayed us yet. Remains to be seen with the Greyjoys.”

**

The fortress was abuzz with movement as the Northmen settled into their temporary lodging Sunspear was providing (the Ironborn loudly voiced that they’d rather row back out to their ships for rest). Battle plans were being drawn and redrawn. Alliances and promises made.

Y/N learned that after the Boltons had tortured and killed Theon as they took over Winterfell, Yara sent a raven to Robb. He would help her claim the throne of the Iron Islands against the claim of her uncle, Euron, in exchange for drawing the Boltons out beyond Winterfell’s walls so Robb’s men could attack them from behind and finally reclaim Winterfell and wipe out the Bolton line. They both had vengeance with the act and gained an ally.

The North was once again under the rule of House Stark. But Y/N could not delight in that bit of happy news as word was sent that Yara Greyjoy required a private audience with Y/N.

Daemon rowed her out to the Black Wind and promised to stay until she personally told him to go or she came back out to the tender to be taken back to Sunspear. “I would not have you languishing with the Ironborn longer than necessary, my lady,” he muttered before a rope ladder was thrown down.

As she reached the deck of the ship, several of the crew looked her up and down. She caught whispers of “the Mountain” and “princess” before she was led below deck by a man with a salt-and-pepper beard and cold, green eyes. He knocked twice on a sea-weathered door before a gruff, feminine voice called to let him in.

Y/N stepped inside and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. It reeked of old hay and excrement—probably a holding cell. Yara was waiting, standing under the single beam of light the room had and holding a chain in her hands. It snaked across the hay-strewn floor and disappeared into a dark corner. This was the first time Y/N had come in contact with Yara Greyjoy—but her reputation obviously preceded her and was well earned. The smirk she had splitting her face was enough to warrant the rumors of callous humor and bloodthirsty nature.

“Ah, you’ve come. Perhaps you can get something out of him before I rip his tongue out. We caught him just off the Stepstones, trying to hide his hideous face under a hood.” She pulled at the end of a chain. The metal links seemed to sing as she continued to yank until the prisoner stepped into her line of sight.

Y/N nearly balked at the sight. “Lord Tyrion. A surprise to be sure.”

Tyrion looked no worse than he did all that time ago in the Water Gardens but his limbs were now all encased in heavy steel and his hair was a little more unkempt. “My lady.” He even bowed a bit.

“The Imp refuses to speak to anyone but you,” Yara said as she stepped forward to hand Y/N the end of the chain with a curled frown. “Was this the one you were intended to marry?”

Y/N bristled but was unsurprised that Yara knew of the Lannisters’ plot. All of Dorne seemed to know it, too. “It was Tywin, actually. His father.”

Yara sneered. “I guess the old lion does still have a cock.” She then left without another word and the door closed loudly behind her.

With a sigh, Y/N set down the chain and wiped her hands on her skirts. “Why have you asked for me, Lord Tyrion? Prince Oberyn or Doran would be the only ones to grant you more comfortable accommodations in exchange for information.”

Tyrion shook his head. “I do not trust them, just as they do not trust me.”

Y/N hummed. “I am surprised they kept you alive at all. The last time you were in the company of Starks, you were accused to trying to murder Bran and only survived Catelyn’s wrath by the gods’ grace and the help of a sellsword.”

“It was more the sellsword than the grace of the gods, my lady, I assure you. But it was under Robb’s instruction that the Ironborn did not tie me to the front of their ship to be pecked to death by gulls.” He pursed his lips. “I was nearly to Essos when my ship was blown out of the water and I was scooped up like some dead fish.”

“Then perhaps you should consider it luck that they found you and not your sister. She wants you dead. Robb wants leverage.”

“If you had counseled your dear king, he would have known that I will hold no leverage as a hostage. They would prefer me dead.”

Y/N paused for a moment, thoughts stirring in her mind. “You asked me here for a reason, Lord Tyrion. And it is not because you fear me the least. What is it you’re offering?”

Something crossed Tyrion’s face then. It was almost a smile. “You would have made a fearsome Lady of the Rock, you know.” But as quickly as it came, it disappeared. “Tell me, are the rumors of Myrcella-”

“Dorne had nothing to do with it. Doran and Oberyn may not care for your family but they do not kill children. They know the ache of the loss of a child.”

Tears gathered in Tyrion’s eyes and tracked down his dirty cheeks. “She was good and gentle.”

“She was,” Y/N said softly. “And I am sorry that the gods have called her home so soon. But we need your help to see this through. You have my word that Tommen will not be harmed when we take King’s Landing.”

Oberyn and Ellaria were waiting for her when she stepped back onto shore hours later. Y/N had slips of parchment crumpled in her hand and streaks of ink staining her fingers and across her cheek. “Is Sarella still in Oldtown?”

**

“You cannot believe him!” Robb snarled.

Y/N pivoted in her seat to glare at him, uncaring of the other lords and soldiers in the room. “What cause does he have to lie?”

“He is a Lannister!”

“He is hated by his family. They tried to kill him.”

Robb’s face continued to contort in rage as he stood from his seat, fist slamming against the wood of the table. But whatever words he had wanted to say stilled in his throat as Oberyn stood from his seat, too. Oberyn said nothing as he loomed at Y/N’s back. He did not move his hand to the pommel of his sword but the promise of violence was not missed.

The King in the North seemed to swallow his pride at the quiet show of strength but did not sit down. “There is no way to see if this is not a trap.”

And that was when Y/N had a smirk of her own, pulled the rolled missive, stamped with the seal of the Citadel, from the folds of her dress and unfurled it on the table. “Tyrion’s claims of the cisterns and drains of Casterly Rock have been verified, as have the rumors of Wildfire under the whole of King’s Landing.” She pushed the parchment toward Robb and watched his face as he read Sarella’s handwriting. Her findings had given Y/N hope that this war could be won without an unending number of battles. Less bloodshed. Fewer dead Dornishmen. Fewer families without sons and husbands and brothers. Tyrion had told her of how he used to smuggle his favorite girls in and out of his rooms by the way of the drains of Casterly Rock and how that flaw in the Lannisters’ fortress could be exploited and allow for an outside naval force to sack his ancestral home. He’d provided crude drawings of how the tunnels curved and turned from the cliffside up to the balustrades and towers. Tyrion’s placement of the wildfire under the capital were less precise but still damning.

“And what does The Imp want in return for this information?”

“He wants to be set free-” There was an immediate and expected uproar from the Northmen and Ironborn and a handful of the Dornish lords and ladies but Y/N pressed on. “-to live in Essos with little Tommen when this is over.”

Robb held up his hand and quieted the rabble as his lips pressed into a thin line. “We will need scouts in the Westerlands to know of any movement of their armies.”

Lady Maege Mormont, pallid face red with the heat and slicked with sweat, suddenly moved her dark eyes to Y/N and the Dornish prince at her back. “The Riverlands armies are still waiting for command.”

“The Riverlands have not declared to King Robb’s cause aside from a handful of men who still hold Riverrun,” gruffed an Ironborn who tried to hold Oberyn’s gaze but quickly wilted under the Prince’s unwavering stare.

“That is inaccurate,” Robb said, voice cutting through the room’s din without effort. “There is still a small battalion of men loyal to Brynden Tully waiting for a command just outside Pinkmaiden. It would be a sufficient number.”

Oberyn’s warm hand reached down to gently grasp her shoulder and squeeze. A quiet show of support. “Why have they not joined you in Dorne?” Y/N asked, voice steady.

That was when Robb finally sat again and he tried to look her in the eye but failed and glanced down at the maps in front of him. “Your father was waiting for my command to take the Golden Tooth.”

Y/N nodded. He had never made it to Pinkmaiden.

And everyone in the room knew it.

But Y/N’s face did not move and Oberyn’s steadying hand did not falter in its grounding warmth. “Then it seems you have your scouts.”

The meeting continued on into the night and only adjourned when Lord Stonehouse let out a snore, slumped over his plate of half-eaten supper. Y/N wrapped a bit of chicken into her napkin and set out on her own after kissing Oberyn’s cheek before he went to Doran’s side.

She was…exhausted. But, she still sought out the one frivolous activity she would allow herself. Grey Wind, Robb’s hulking direwolf, was curled on the cool marble of the grand hall and lifted his large head when he heard her approach. Ned had told her stories of direwolves during her time at Winterfell and she, a bit childishly, wanted to see one as close as she could manage. Y/N unwrapped the chicken and held out to him with a small smile that grew only a fraction bigger when it was quickly devoured and her fingers were licked clean, too. The direwolf sniffed at her hand for a little longer before pressing his head against her palm, wanting to be pet. And that almost made her laugh, this giant animal who unnerved most others he encountered was gently asking to be scratched behind the ears. (Robb had grumbled his acceptance of Grey Wind not being present in the war room because of how uncomfortable it made some of the lords and ladies of Dorne.)

“You’re just a big pup, aren’t you?”

Grey Wind whined, offended.

“My lady?” Daisy’s voice rung out in the hall and Y/N quickly gave a handful more scratches before trying to find her handmaiden. When she did, Daisy explained that Ellaria had requested Daisy get Y/N “in bed with no distractions!” when she heard the meeting had been adjourned early. So, she let Daisy lead her back to her chambers with a sigh and fuss for a moment or two before she helped her out of her clothes and into her silken nightgown with a small smile. “I feel like I have not truly spoken with you in ages, my lady.”

“I apologize, Daisy.”

“Think nothing of it. I know your heart and mind are occupied.” When she finished, Daisy lingered at her back with a nervous expression. “I know it is not my place-”

“You are my friend, Daisy. Speak freely.” She turned to softly squeeze at Daisy’s fingers before dropping her hands back into her lap.

“I worry about you. And I know others do as well.”

“I am going to sleep-”

“It is not your lack of sleep that disturbs me, Y/N. You…you are not yourself. For as long as I have known you, you have worn your heart on your sleeve. Only tucking it away when you think someone will betray you. I know your heart is broken. Let it be broken. A heart that bleeds alone still bleeds. It is easier to bear with someone at your side.”

Y/N frowned. “You are with me-”

Disappointment colored Daisy’s face as she sighed, cutting off Y/N’s words. “I know you are not this stupid, Y/N. You know exactly what I mean.”

And that poked at the festering wound Y/N had tried to seal over with brick and steel in the cavity of her chest. “When this is over, I will… I will mourn as I should. It would be selfish to do it now.”

Daisy clicked her tongue with a shake of her head. “I have been told that war makes animals of men but I did not think it would make your heart stone. It is not selfish to love your father. It is not selfish to feel.” Before Y/N could even come up with some sort of rebuttal, her friend was striding toward the door and pulling it open. “Sleep, Y/N.” And then she was gone.

But Y/N did not sleep. She sat on her bed and listened to the night’s chatter die down as time slipped by. The fortress grew dark as only the necessary torches were kept aflame. The stars glittered in the moonless sky. Even as her body yearned for rest, she could not sleep.

All she could do was stare out to the sea.

But then she was moving. Slipping off her bed and slinking out of the fortress, wordlessly passing the stationed guards who made no move to stop her but watched her with careful, curious eyes.

“All rivers lead to the sea.” The words were murmured but felt like a rock had dislodged itself from the recesses of her lungs.

Cool marble gave way to paved stone and then to cold, wet sand she let squish between her toes as she walked closer to the sea’s edge. The water was calm. Gentle waves shimmered in starlight and lapped against the shore. She let the cool water splash against her ankles before she discarded her dressing gown. She took one step, then another, another, and another until she was treading open water in just her chemise, feeling the wet fabric glide around her in the water like a curious, silken fish. She dove beneath the waves to feel the chill and rhythm of the sea settle in her bones. For a moment, she wondered if she could spend forever at the bottom of the sea, looking up at the stars through the clear water, weighed down by pebbles sewn into her pockets. But when her lungs started to burn, she rose to the surface slowly and pulled in a deep breath of warm night air as she crested like a leviathan.

Y/N had always been a strong swimmer. Edmure had once joked that she was truly part trout when she would spend hot days swimming against the current of the waters around Riverrun. But she did not want to swim tonight. She wanted to simply feel the water on her skin. To feel the waves beat in time with her heart. To know that the water would always have a place for her.

Her legs stopped pumping and she let them rise to the surface and she floated atop the waves like a wash of seafoam.

The stars were shining above her in their celestial beds, bright and welcoming even as drops of salted water managed to sting at her eyes. She followed the lines of the constellations she knew by heart and licked the salt from her lips.

With each wave, she knew the shore grew closer. She could let herself mourn until then, let the salt of her tears finally meet the salt of the water. She could let herself cry here, mourn here, in the water that welcomed her family home.

They came slowly and then all at once. Great, heaving sobs shook her entire body and nearly took her under as water filled her mouth when she let out a wail—the sounds wrenching themselves free from their hiding places within her tired soul. She cried and sobbed and wept. For her father. Her mother. For Ned and Catelyn. For Rickon and Bran and Hoster. Finally letting herself feel something for longer than a few stolen minutes. Y/N barely registered the arms wrapping around her shoulders and under her knees, the grip keeping her head safely above water.

It wasn’t until the tears ebbed enough to clear her vision that she saw Oberyn standing in the water, cradling her weightless form against the waves. His features were soft in the starlight and he said nothing as her sobs came again and she curled further into his grip.

He let her cry until she was spent and then walked her closer to the shore and helped her stand.

Ellaria was waiting just outside the sea’s reach with a stack of linen towels neatly folded near her feet. She plucked one from the pile and wordlessly started to dry Y/N off with a gentle touch before wrapping another around her shoulders. Oberyn slung one around his damp breeches then leaned forward to press a kiss against Ellaria’s temple, lingering for a moment, before doing the same to Y/N.

“The night is losing its battle with dawn, my loves. We must sleep,” Ellaria said, reaching out to tighten the towel around Y/N’s shoulders.

Y/N nodded, beyond exhausted. But her heart felt the smallest fraction lighter. And perhaps it was not the end of her grieving—it was just the start. But she knew it was a step forward. When Ellaria pushed her into the warm silk and linen sheets of her and Oberyn’s bed and then climbed over her to settle like another blanket, Y/N knew she would finally sleep. Peacefully. Oberyn climbed in after them and murmured soft ‘sleep, my darlings. We will speak in the morning’ into their skin and snuffed out the single candle on the bedside table. One hand brushed against Ellaria’s back as his other brought Y/N’s palm up to his lips to breathe in the lingering scent of salt and water as his eyes closed. Oh yes, she could sleep for eternity if they just held her like this for a little longer.

And the sound of the water, ever-present and ever-moving, lulled them into a quiet, deep sleep.

**

Morning came sooner rather than later and Y/N woke to Oberyn pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder, fingers sliding under the thin strap of her chemise to revel in her soft skin. Much like Ellaria had the night before, he was lounging across Y/N’s back, weight pressing her into the featherbed with a comforting pressure. Ellaria was sitting up, held up by her elbow to look down at her with a soft smile.

It was something Y/N could get used to seeing every morning. She breathed for a few moments, simply wondering in how quiet the room was, how gentle Oberyn and Ellaria were with her. Briefly, she thought of how her life had changed since she had sent that first raven to Dorne. Being this comfortable, wrapped in blankets that did not belong to her, in the arms of not one but two people she was not married to—the scandal of it all. It was a soft sort of loveliness, even with the hurt of her loss. It seemed the water and the forgiving touch of the couple she loved had given Y/N her soul back; fractured and hurt. But hers once again.

“How are you, my moonlight?” He asked, voice quiet in the still of the room.

“I think I will carry this ache until my soul leaves to join whichever of the Seven Heavens the gods deem fit for me. But I know it will be easier to bear with time. Just as it was with my mother. Knowing they are together again gives me a small bit of happiness.” Y/N tapped at his thigh so she could turn to face him, letting her fingers trail through his hair when he laid his cheek against her stomach as they once again settled in the mess of blankets. A handful of grey strands pulled her attention as she let her nails gently scratch against his scalp, gaining a soft groan in return. “Thank you for last night. You… you both seem to know what I require before I even speak.”

Oberyn looked up at her, dark eyes warm but sad. “We each have had our own brushes with loss, my moonlight.” He paused. “We watched you close yourself off to everything aside from the coming war. Your eyes did not sparkle. You did not laugh. We had you, could touch you, feel the warmth of your skin. But you were lost to us.”

Ellaria hummed her agreement and reached over to let her fingers roam across her exposed collarbone and the corner of her mouth tilted up when she heard the next breath catch in Y/N’s throat.

“It was never my intention-”

“You have spent too long in places where you cannot feel. You have swallowed your pride and anger and joy and grief in order to survive.” Ellaria said, fingers continuing to trail, burning her in their wake. “That is not how we live here, that is not the life we want for you.”

Y/N pushed out a long breath and let her hands drop to the back of Oberyn’s head, twisting the black and grey locks around her fingers without thought. “What is the life you want for me?”

Oberyn suddenly moved. His hands planting on either side of her shoulders to loom over her like some beautiful, terrible heavenly body. Her legs parted as he moved, cradling his hips with her thighs. “We want you to live, my moonlight. To live freely. Without restraint.”

“We want you to be angry, to be sad, to be joyful—to feel,” Ellaria said, hooking her fingers under Y/N’s chin to make Y/N look at her. “We want you to feel.”

They spoke of their hurts and anger, of their happiness and triumphs as the sun started to rise. “But none of it means anything if you do not feel it.” Oberyn leaned down to steal a kiss and sighed against her mouth as she lifted a hand to slide against his side, delighting in how he shivered. “We want you to take the day. Do not attend the meetings. Do not go to the training yards. Sleep. Pray if it helps your heart. Eat something. Speak with Sansa and Arya. Let yourself feel.” He kissed her again before Ellaria stole another, too. But they eventually all made their way out of the haven of their soft blankets and dressed unhurriedly to meet the day.

“Join me for lunch. The little ones miss you,” Ellaria said, catching Y/N’s hand before she left.

“I will find you,” Y/N promised with a squeeze to her wrist before setting off to find Sansa.

The day passed smoothly, for the most part. She let herself cry again when she spoke with Sansa and joined Grey Wind and Arya in the sea before setting off to join Ellaria and the younger Sand Snakes for lunch as promised. The afternoon was filled with a trip to Sunspear’s sept for prayer and speaking with Daisy. No plans for battle. No talk of alliances. It was not all her heart needed to heal from her loss. But it was another step toward acceptance. As night descended on Dorne, she was rewrapping the leather binding on the handle of Dorea’s Morningstar, having nearly stepped on it when she was walking back to her chambers. The leather had been ripped and torn under Dorea’s exuberant thrashing and Y/N had a bit of leather to spare, not minding to part with it. Oberyn found her as she finished and smiled as she, a little bashfully, showed him her work.

“She will love it,” he said with a warm smile and tired eyes.

Oberyn led her toward Dorea’s chambers and they found Ellaria asleep in Dorea’s bed with a book of fairytales from the Riverlands opened on their laps. Oberyn only tiptoed in for a moment to press a kiss to his paramour and daughter’s cheeks. Y/N had followed to carefully pull the book away and set it on the bedside table and made sure that the blankets covered the pair, tucking them into bed against the sea-scented night air. She placed the Morningstar atop a table before they both slipped out.

“She must have had a nightmare. She rarely lets us leave her bed if some sort of monster has creeped its way into her mind,” Oberyn said softly as he closed the door.

“Does she have nightmares often?” Y/N asked.

“They come and go, as it is with all children.” He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers with a tired smile. “You will see when you have babes of your own.”

“You want more children?” She asked, head filling with something other than plans for war for a brief moment.

Oberyn’s smile widened and he pressed a hand over her stomach, fingers splaying. “I want as many children as you desire to give me.”

Something playful and teasing and almost unfamiliar bubbled in her chest and she smiled and covered his hand with hers. “Oh, I see. You’ve seduced me in some attempt to fill these halls with little Martells. You have no love for me—just my ability to give you more heirs.” She even laughed, quiet in the hall.

But Oberyn did not smile now and his fingers curled into the fabric of her dress and yanked her close. The heat of his body enveloped her instantly and the burn of his gaze struck at her heart. “Do not say such things.”

“It was-”

“I love you, my moonlight. Even in jest, I will not have you speak of yourself that way.” He released his grip on her dress to gently hold her face in his roughened hands and swept his thumbs across her cheeks. “But it is good to hear you laugh again. I have missed the sound.”

Y/N nearly melted into his grip with a soft sigh and closed her eyes to savor his touch a little more. But then her mind started to wander, back to when she was still untouched by war and courtly politics. “I’ve always wanted one or two.”

He leaned forward to press his head against hers and Y/N could feel him smile as he kissed her forehead. “I can give you that.”

“I want them to have your eyes and good heart.”

Oberyn chuckled and then wrapped his arms around her, dragging her a little closer. “As long as they are healthy, my moonlight, I will be happy.”

And as she curled beneath her blankets that night, mouth still tingling from the kiss Oberyn left her with, she thought of little Loreza and Dorea trying to teach two little ones how to read on the shore as the Dornish sun warmed their skin.

And the thought carried over to her dreams where Oberyn crooned in her ear some lullaby she couldn’t place, a babe in his arms.

**

“Could you throw one more?” Y/N asked.

The young squire chuckled and nodded, pulling another bruised blood-orange from the pile collected from the groves and threw it into the air. Y/N quickly pulled back the bow’s string and loosed another arrow. It soared through the early morning air and pierced the skin of the orange and ripped through before it sunk into the target. It lined up almost perfectly with the six other speared blood-oranges on the target, dripping red-pink juice across the wood.

Y/N waved off the squire moving to clean off the target and said she didn’t mind the work. “I am sure I have kept you from your duties for far too long.”

“It is a pleasure to serve, Princess. You are a formidable archer.”

“Flatterer,” Y/N mused and watched the squire try to hide a shy smile before bowing and dismissing himself. She carefully pulled the arrows from the target and licked the juice from the tips and threw the discarded oranges out into the garden to let them feed the soil. It was still too early for most others to come to the courtyard to train. The last handful of days had seen most of the Dornish armies leave Sunspear to relieve the sorties at the border and to lead an incursion into the Stormlands.

A sudden noise had her turning and ready to nock another arrow. But it was just Robb, still haggard from sleep, with Grey Wind trailing beside him. The pair stared at each other for a moment and Y/N had to will herself to loosen her grip on the bow and carefully place the sticky arrows back into a pile. Robb approached her slowly. Much slower than Grey Wind who nosed at her leather breeches before letting out a low rumble as her gloved hand found the spot behind his left ear he loved having scratched.

“We have not spoken properly, cousin.” His mouth opened and closed twice. “I have missed you,” was all he managed.

Y/N nodded. She did miss him, too. “We are a long way from Winterfell.”

Robb’s smile was small but sincere. He took a step closer. And then another. And then his arms were wrapping around her and pulling her to his chest in a tight hug. Y/N’s arms wrapped around him tightly without a thought or care. Tears gathered in her eyes and she quickly shut them in a half-hearted attempt to keep them at bay. But then she was holding him in earnest and remembering how he and Jon would laugh in the Wolf’s Wood and string blue roses behind her ears with dirty fingers and would always make her smile whenever they could. It was so strange to see him now, the burden of a bloody crown on his head and scars littering his skin. It was strange that the boy she knew, full of smiles and fond of laughter, was now so quiet and serious.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

The tears were coming in earnest now and she felt Robb’s own trickling onto the shoulder of her tunic.

“You saved Sansa. Arya. You kept them alive and I repaid you with your father-”

“Don’t say it,” she said, biting back a whimper. “Do not say it.”

He held her tighter. And she tightened her hold, too.

“What happened to us, Stark?” She whispered.

The claimant king shuddered in her grip, the tears continuing their descent. “I do not know.”

And the pair held each other for a little longer until they heard other guards and soldiers approaching the training ground. Y/N stepped back first and noticed the sadness in his eyes but he blinked and turned his head and it was gone. The careful mask of kinghood was back in place. “I did come to speak to you of something else, Lady Tully. If you would permit me a moment of your time.”

She nodded, her own mask upon her face, too, and let him lead her toward a quiet corner of the training grounds with Grey Wind trailing beside them. And with each step, she noticed how Robb seemed to hold his shoulders higher to his ears. “What is it?” Y/N whispered when they finally slowed to a stop, mask slipping.

“Your father’s men want to fight. Riverrun still answers to the name Tully. And you, dear cousin, are the only Tully left alive and out of bondage.” When Y/N was quiet, Robb continued. “We sent the raven to Pinkmaiden—they responded that they wanted a commander. A leader.”

“And you think that I-”

“You are a Tully. You are Brynden Tully’s daughter. You have outmaneuvered the Lannisters at every turn. Who else would I send?”

**

She had kept Robb’s request to lead the Riverlanders’ forces to herself for only a handful of hours, trying to find the words to tell Ellaria and Oberyn. She thought time alone would help her, but all it did was wear on her nerves. A nervous tittering called her attention and she turned to see little Loreza staring at Grey Wind—the direwolf had made it a habit to splash around in the cool water of the Summer Sea at least a few times a day and was currently submerged up to his neck in the water, letting the waves wash over his back.

Y/N smiled despite her heavy heart and walked to Loreza’s side, biting back the question of how she’d managed to evade her Septa’s watchful eye this time. Seeing Loreza so nervous broke her heart a little. She was too young to be so scared. “He’s very big, isn’t he?”

“He’s almost as big as a horse,” the young girl murmured, dark eyes flittering back to the direwolf. “Obella said she saw him eat a man!”

“Obella is just teasing. Grey Wind is gentle—especially to little girls.” Y/N knelt down to Loreza’s level with a smile. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”

Loreza seemed to ponder it for a moment before nodding. Y/N held out a hand for her to take and led her over to the lounging direwolf. She held out her hand for Grey Wind to sniff and quickly lick before she scratched behind his ears. The water was starting to soak through her leathers but she turned to show Loreza how he liked to be scratched.

“Give him your hand, just like I did. Let him smell you.”

Loreza held out a shaking hand toward Grey Wind who sniffed all around before licking a wet strip across her little fingers and Loreza let out a loud giggle at the sensation. Her little dress was floating around her like a pale yellow lily pad.

“See? He likes you.”

Grey Wind continued to nose at Loreza’s arm as she started to run her fingers through his dark fur. “He’s soft!”

“I heard King Robb brushes him every night,” Y/N said with a waggle of her eyebrows. Loreza smiled at that and then let out a surprised squeal when Grey Wind licked at her face. “I think he likes you more than me!”

Loreza finally pulled her other hand from Y/N’s hold and happily pushed her little fingers through Grey Wind’s damp fur. A particularly tall wave washed over them and Loreza laughed as Grey Wind licked the water from her hands. “Would Father let me have a direwolf?”

“Direwolves are of the North, like King Robb and Sansa and Arya. And they are rare there, too.”

The girl pouted at that but did not stop her petting. “Will King Robb let me pet him while he is here?”

Y/N nodded and promised to speak to Robb on her behalf before she noticed a figure standing on the shoreline. “It seems your father has discovered us.”

Loreza looked back at the shore and grimaced. “I did miss my lessons today.”

Y/N urged her gently to find her septa, promising to speak with Oberyn, and watched her dash away through the water toward the sand and dodged her father’s hand as he reached for her with a teasing smile.

Y/N eventually pulled away from Grey Wind and squared her shoulders before pushing against the water toward Oberyn who waited for her.

“It is good to see you with them. You are gentle—but I do think you let them get away with far too many follies.”

Y/N smiled. “Even I missed a lesson or two when I was her age. A little rebellion is good character.”

He shook his head with a soft laugh and pulled her close despite her wet clothes before brushing his lips against her forehead. “I’ve spoken with Doran. He wants me to lead a command of my own into the Crownlands.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage. She knew he was a seasoned commander but the thought of him leaving the safety of Sunspear had not come to her. Perhaps she had deluded herself into thinking he would always be safe.

“And the wolf king has told me of his plans for you.” Oberyn looked at her and she held his gaze, even as she felt his sigh against her wet skin. Slowly, far too slowly for her liking, he reached up to hold her cheeks in his hands. “Do you truly mean to lead them? If this is the wolf king pressing you-”

“I have to, my prince. Robb or not.”

“Does your honor demand it?” He asked, almost teasing. But his tone lacked its usual warmth.

“It does.” Y/N reached up to cover his hands with hers and keep him close, half-scared that he would walk away, too. “Just as yours requires you to do the same.”

The pair was quiet for a moment, only the sound of the waves against the sand to listen to as time stretched on. Oberyn was looking at her, truly looking at her all the while and it was the sadness and resignation in his eyes that dug straight through her heart. He kissed her softly without a word before stepping back. “I would have you safe.”

And Y/N wanted to ask what he meant but he grasped at her hand and led her without a word toward the armory. “She is an archer, she needs to be able to move,” Oberyn said as he started to dig through the careful stacks of pieces of armor and accoutrements the blacksmith had forged for the Dornish forces. He quickly found pieces of light armor; shining mail, vambraces and pauldrons stamped with Martell suns, a light cuirass which would fit her feminine form. And as she gathered all of her armor to her chest, equal parts excited and anxious, she watched Oberyn turn to her. His dark eyes held some secret sentiment. Sad and proud and something else she could not place.

When they found Ellaria, she seemed to already know their news. “Oh, my two warriors.” And then she was gathering them close and lathing slow kisses against their lips and pushing them onto the bed. “Just let me have tonight, my loves. Just tonight before the Realm rips you away from me.”

And there was nothing carnal in the way they all burrowed under the blankets as the sliver of the moon rose or the way hands roamed and lips parted with gentle sighs. It was just love, simple and soft.

**

The younger Sand Snakes filtered into her rooms throughout the afternoon to watch Y/N pack away the essentials, just enough to fill two small saddlebags. Dorea tried to give Y/N her beloved Morningstar, “to keep you safe!” but Y/N quickly and gently pushed it back into the young girl’s hands. “You have to keep your mother safe until your father and I return. You cannot do that if I have your Morningstar, right?”

Elia sniffed at that and suspiciously turned her head away.

“And your sister, Elia, she will protect you," Y/N said, acknowledging Elia's pain without making it a point of conversation. Elia did not like to dwell on emotion.

It earned another sniff and a curt, “don’t die. I like having you around.” ("I do, too!" Dorea added.)

Nymeria and Tyene arrived soon after with words of encouragement and two matching vials of poison. “Just in case! Father likes to slick his blades with it. Perhaps you could dip a few of your arrows?” And that spoke volumes, at least to Y/N, about how they cared for her in their own way.

But Sansa was near tears despite the steadiness of her voice as she let herself into Y/N’s chambers. “Must you go? It feels like I've just had you return.”

“You know I must, little one. Robb’s asked it of me and I know you would do the same if Winterfell was still under Bolton colors.” Y/N reached out and pulled the redhead into a familiar hold and said nothing when she felt tears start to wet the fabric of her tunic. “But I will come ba-”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say something you cannot know to be true.”

Y/N pulled back and grasped at Sansa’s chin. “I am coming back. The Stranger themselves could not stop me.”

Sansa nodded with a watery hiccup and pulled her close for another hug before there was a knock at the door. Y/N kissed Sansa’s forehead before calling out a welcome to whomever it was. Ellaria stepped in, a roll tucked under her arm and Sansa quickly excused herself and shut the door tight on her way out.

Ellaria was quiet for a moment before she walked to Y/N’s side. There was a quietness to her features now but tears still pooled in her beautiful eyes. She pressed a kiss against her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, before touching her lips to hers in a soft, reverent kiss that tasted like citrus and salt. She sniffled just once as she pulled back and she handed the bundle to Y/N with a single wobble of her chin.

Y/N unwrapped it and marveled as more and more of the gift was revealed. The bow was black, darker than night and stronger than steel. It was dragonbone. A rare prize indeed.

“Father said it was one of the smaller bones from Meraxes. It was meant,” she had to clear her throat. “I meant to give it to you as a wedding gift. But I would rather you have it now. I know your aim will be true.”

Y/N quickly set the bow down on the bed and pulled Ellaria close without a word, trying to somehow convey the hope that she would return through the touch alone instead of words she knew would fail. “I love you,” was the only phrase she dared whisper. I love you. I love you. I love you.

When dawn broke the next morning two Northmen Robb entrusted with her care were waiting for her at the stables. Qēlos nuzzled into her palm as the mare's tack was secured and Y/N smuggled her an apple to devour as she swung up into the saddle. Y/N was finishing saying goodbye to a tearful Sansa when Ellaria and Oberyn appeared at the stables. Oberyn was already dressed in his light armor and Ellaria had donned a fauld of four lame across her waist. A little armor of her own. Everyone around them seemed to understand the need for privacy and quickly vacated the area or decidedly avoided pointing their gazes toward them.

“We will not try to dissuade you. Your wrath is justified and glorious.” His hands reached up to cover hers on the reins. The warmth slowed the wild beating of her heart just a fraction. “But we will ask that you do not forget us.”

Y/N’s poor heart leapt into her throat and she hurried to move her grip, pulling Oberyn’s hands up to her mouth to press a kiss against his knuckles. “The gods themselves could not take you from my mind or heart, my prince. I will see you again when this is over, when the Lions are dead and the Realm can have peace.”

Oberyn untangled his hands from hers only to grasp the back of her head to kiss her, artfully stealing the air from her lungs with ease as his mouth moved against hers in slow, unyielding ministrations. As he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair for a moment before releasing her. His fingers trailed down her arms to tighten the lacings of her vambrace. “Then I shall see you again, my moonlight.”

Ellaria was quiet but kissed her soundly. “Come back,” was all she said.

“I will,” Y/N whispered in return.

And then they were off. Y/N looked back at the gates of Sunspear after every new turn on the road, watching it grow smaller and smaller. The Northmen offered no words but did give sympathetic smiles after they caught her sad expression.

But then there was a thundering of hooves against the sand-covered road and Obara was at her side in a moment, dressed for battle and saddlebags packed. “You will not fight alone, Little Fish.”

And then Arya, on a horse that was definitely not hers, was galloping to her side, too. “I’m coming, too!”

Y/N knew she should tell them no. Send them back to Sunspear and Oberyn and Robb and Safety. But one look at their determined faces left her sighing. “Your father and brother are going to kill me, you know.”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Obara said with a smirk. “I’ll protect you.”

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think! I really appreciate it. :)

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