#and when bucks home alone hes literally moping around all day and when he hears eddies keys in the door he runs over like

[tommygotwrittenoff]

after buddie moves in together, they need to be on every shift together or else they'll drive everyone insane being like "i miss him" every five seconds

[yunopouts]

1,2,3 - n. jaemin

-> pairing: sadist(kinda)!jaemin x fem reader

-> genre: filth smut

-> warnings: spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex (kinda? not really tho), oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, handjob, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

-> word count: 2.1k

this is some weird shit. prepare yourselves.

The ending is where the actual filth starts (literally for like 2.3 seconds tho)

I am so sorry.

After laying in bed for literally five hours, you decided to get up and walk around your apartment. Your boyfriend was at work and you couldn’t go out because you’re living during a fucking pandemic (w/n: YES MAKE THAT SHIT REALISTIC😩), so you were stuck at home. All by yourself, with nothing to do.

You walked yourself to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbed out the juice.

“I can just drink from the carton.” You thought out loud. “No, that's kinda gross, I can’t do that.” You shook your head and just grabbed a glass from the cabinet. Thinking of what you should do, you wandered around, sipping your juice from time to time. “I don’t want to watch tv, cause I just finished doing that. Jesus Christ, this shouldn’t be that hard to do.” You whined, stamping your feet like a child throwing a tantrum to get what they want.

Heaving a sigh, you continued moping around.

“Screw this, I’m just gonna shower.” You chugged your juice and set the glass in the sink before heading to the bathroom.

-

When you walked out of the bathroom all clean, you headed to the living room- where you were unexpectedly met by your boyfriend, Jaemin, who was sitting on the couch. You stopped in the entry way, making eye contact with him and smiled when he called you over.

“How's my pretty girl doing?” he asked, looking up at you with a lazy smile. His hands traveled from your waist, around to your ass and down to the back of your thighs, sliding up and down.

“Fine, bored.” You replied with a sigh. “You okay?” you ran your fingers through his hair. Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips just above the waistband of your pants.

“So perfect.” He purred in response, kissing you again, slowly moving further and further down your waist. His eyes connected with yours, glassy, dark and filled with lust. From your thighs, Jaemin’s hands went up and started to tug down your pants, helping him by shimmying out of them.

Standing up, Jaemin brought you into a kiss, one that was slow yet needy at the same time. You gasped when you felt a burning sensation against your ass. Jaemin smirked against your lips, doing it again, making you moan this time.

Arms wrapping around your waist, you lead your boyfriend backwards, slow enough to get there without tripping on anything. As you kissed, Jaemin kneaded your ass, groaned into you and pressed you against his groin, where you felt his erection.

You reached your bedroom, and your boyfriend pushed you down, your back hitting the soft mattress. Practically ripping off your panties, Jaemin spread your knees apart, licking a stripe up your pussy. “My pretty girl has such a pretty pussy that’s so so wet for me.” He said, spreading apart your lips. The boy stared in awe at your glistening heat. “It never seizes to fascinate me at how fast you get so wet for me.”

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into your hole, savagely ramming them into you. Nothing left your mouth; nothing could leave your mouth, not even a croak. He hadn’t even actually started to fuck you; it was just with his fingers and your voice was caught in your throat.

“What?” Jaemin stopped. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you couldn’t respond as you were still trying to catch your breath.

“S-sorry, just feels good.” You managed to choke out, finally getting air back into your lungs. With a satisfied smirk, he re-inserted his fingers, but thrust at a painfully slow speed. “Jaemin, faster.” You whined.

“Ah, ah, ah~ don’t get greedy, pretty girl.” He continued with his pace, curling his fingers up from time to time. “You know how much I hate greedy people.” The boy leaned forward, placing the flat of his tongue against your clit. He moved the muscle quickly, making you cry out in pleasure. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling and running your fingers through it. “You know,” he spoke between licks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Jaemin attached his lips to your clit and sucked before letting go of it with a ‘pop’.

“In the studio, when we were recording ‘Make A Wish’;” the thrusts of his fingers slowly increased. “When we were in the practice rooms.” He used his tongue again, swirling it around to lap up all your arousal.

“That’s… sweet.” You choked back on a moan but failed miserably.

The sweet noises you were eliciting from your clit being flicked and abused was enough to get your boyfriend grinding against the bed.

“Oh fuck.” You moved you’re hips to the feeling, needing more, to which he pulled out.

Jaemin left from your core and was now hovering above you. When you met his eyes, forcing you to witness him sucking his fingers that were practically dripping with your wetness. That action alone was enough to make you shake as your first orgasm washed over you.

Jaemin watched this happen, moaning in pleasure and delight; the fact that you came from a simple glace at him turned him on a lot..

“I got so hard that Taeyong sent me home early.” He stated. Jaemin licked his lip before almost closing all the space you had between your faces.

Almost, is the key word.

He stayed hovering, lips three centimeters away from your own. You tried to kiss him, but that made your boyfriend move backwards. When you pouted, he moved back to the same spot, smirking. “Turn around for me, beautiful.”

His tone was deep and full of mischief. It got you kind of worried, but you complied, slowly shifting your body so that your back was to him. Jaemin pressed against your back, making you feel his erection against your ass, as he brought his lips to your shoulder and kissed it lightly.

Suddenly, you felt something sharp in the same place where he kissed you and you hissed, pushing against him. He let out a throaty moan in your ear, more arousal dripping from your heat. He licked, kissed, sucked and bit his way down, littering your back with all sorts of shaped markings. When he reached the small of your back, he stopped.

He pulled away before he started to knead your ass. “You look so good from behind.” You could practically hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Then do it.” You said.

“Patience, pretty girl.” He instructed, going silent for a second, before sending down the palm of his hand against your ass. You yelped in pain, shoving your face into the pillows of your shared bed.

“That’s one.” He grunt before smacking you again. “Two; three;” he continued until he reached ten, your ass stinging. “All done.” He sighed as he brought you back up, gently turning you around so that he could see your tear stained face. “Sorry, pretty girl.” He kissed your closed eyelids.

You shook your head slightly, “It felt good.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled against your forehead. Jaemin brought his pants down, revealing his clothed cock. “Help me out with this one, will you?” the boy asked you once he noticed you were staring down at the darkened spot on his underwear.

Your hand found its way into his boxers, grabbing his dick. Connecting his lips with yours, Jaemin mewled at the feeling of both your lips and your hand on him. Your thumb gently touched the tip, spreading around the precum. Your wrist worked in circular motions, sliding up and down his shaft, making the boy a moaning mess. He bucked his hips in time with your actions, letting out a shaky sigh against you.

“Shit.” Jaemin parted from your lips so he could throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, I’m so close.” He whined.

Three more strokes and the deed was done; Jaemin’s cock was twitching in your hand as you let him ride out his orgasm.

“You’re still hard.” You stated, staring at his dick, that was still very hard.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you how fucking horny I was today?” he glanced at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, right.” You recalled. “Get on with it then.” Jaemin let out a laugh, kissing you once again before moving back on top of you.

Just like he did before with his fingers, Jaemin pushed into you with out warning, leaving you breathless once again. He thrust in and out of you slowly, thoroughly enjoying your pleads to go faster.

“You’re such a good girl.” He growled, placing a finger on your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he pumped in and out of you at a pace that satisfied you. A hand slid up your torso, finding its place around one of your breasts. He squeezed it a bit and played with the nipple, rolling it in between two fingers. “God, I love you.”

Jaemins cock felt so good. It filled all the space available in your pussy and your walls always clenched around him, whether you meant to do it or not.

The boy let go of your tit and pulled your hips impossibly closer to his, leaning in, fucking you faster and deeper than before. He pushed your waist down, squeezing so hard that you were sure to have marks from his nails later. Lowering your eyes ever so slightly, you watched how your boyfriends’ eyes were trained on what was poking out every so often when he plowed back into you. The tips of your fingers traced the area in which he was looking at so intently, making him moan loudly.

“Do you like it when I fuck you hard like this.” He asked, finally connecting your eyes again. “Fuck, I can see where my dick hits you.” You bit your lip and nodded, grabbing at his arm and giving it a light squeeze, letting him know that you were close.

“Do it.” He huffed. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Jaemin fucked you through your second orgasm, but continued to rail you, like nothing had happened.

“No more.” You whined in protest, clawing at his back as he adjusted his position.

“Haven’t cum.” He remarked.

Twelve minutes more and Jaemin was still at it, fucking you nice and hard.

After a while, the pain and pleasure of cumming for a third time had finally come to an end when his snapping hips had come to a sputtering stop, allowing himself to release inside you. Jaemin bit into your nape as he came, your fingers slowly drawing small patterns on his back. He pulled out, somehow still hard, but at least not fully.

When he rolled off top of you, he brought you into his legs, spreading them open and keeping them that way, using his own legs. Traveling to your cum filled hole, his fingers entered you, slowly pumping in and out. His left hand found itself at your clit, adding more stimulation to your already overstimulated heat.

“Fuck, Jaemin.” You yelped, writhing in his arms.

“We both know what you want, pretty girl.” He spoke in a condescending tone. “So be quiet for me until I give it to you.” He nipped at your earlobe. You complied, moaning instead of a worded answer. “That’s my girl.” You felt him smirk against the skin of your neck.

The motions his fingers were making on your clit soon became bigger and stronger; the fingers in your hole sometimes pulling out to smear his cum on the rest of your pussy, re-inserting themselves afterwards.

The wetness of your pussy and his cum mixing together made the filthiest of noises, but to Jaemin, your moans were all he could hear, sending him into orbit, causing his fingers to move quicker and quicker.

You tried inhaling, but barely any air actually made it into your lungs.

“J-Jae-” you gasped. In your ear was a deep chuckle, meaning Jaemin probably came back to earth when he heard the heavenly noises coming from your pussy.

“Fuck, scream my fucking name.” hands working at the speed of light as you came.

And this time you came hard.

Harder than you have before.

So hard that you squirt, juices leaking everywhere on your sheets.

As you screamed, like Jaemin said, his voice raised too, laughing out in amazement.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Was all you heard him say before passing out.

[cherishingstydia]

Will they or, won’t they

Eddie and Bucks friendship had been close to crossing the line into something more for months. They both felt it, but both were afraid the feelings weren’t reciprocated.

After months of will they or won’t they moments it was looking more like no they won’t. They were both confident men, but when it came to taking signals they were both completely clueless.

It was just a normal day at work when an attractive man came by the station.

“Can I help you?” Eddie smiled.

“Yeah I’m looking for Evan.” the man said.

“And you are?” Eddie scoffed.

“I’m Marcus, his date” Marcus grinned.

“First of all he goes by Buck and-” Eddie was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Hey Marcus, this is my friend Eddie and Eddie this is my date Marcus” Buck laughed patting Eddies shoulder.

Eddie winced at the word “friend” he knew they were but hearing it like that just made him feel angry. Eddie could feel a hatred building up for this Marcus.

“I gotta run.” Eddie said glaring at Marcus before leaving the station.

“Um what was that about.” Marcus asked.

“I don’t know it’s just Eddie the mans a mystery.” Buck shrugged

“Ok” Marcus nodded.

The next day

“Hey Eddie” Buck said walking in the fire station.

Eddie looked up but didn’t say a word. This sort of behavior continued the rest of the day Eddie would barely speak to or look at Buck.

“What’s your problem man.” Buck said walking into the locker room.

“I don’t have a problem.” Eddie huffed.

“Come on Eddie I know you well enough to know when something’s wrong.” Buck sighed.

“Ok then if you know me so we’ll figure it out yourself.” Eddie yelled as he slammed his locker and stormed out.

Buck sat down wondering what was going on, and then Hen walked in.

“You ok?” Hen smiled sitting next to him.

“Yeah. Just a bit confused. What’s wrong with Eddie?” Buck asked.

“He’s jealous.” Hen said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Of?” Buck asked with confusion.

“You parading your little boy toy around here” Hen laughed.

“Marcus?! Why would Eddie care who I Date” Buck laughed “Besides that was one date, and it only happened because our mutual friends wouldn’t leave us alone until we went out. I literally feel nothing for him other than friendship.”

“Maybe tell that to Eddie, I’m tired of him moping around” Hen said.

“Why would he be jealous tho?” Buck said wrinkling his brow.

“You two need to work on your communication.” Hen laughed.

“We talk all the time...well usually right now not so much.” Buck laughed.

“No I mean serious stuff it’s clear to me you have feelings for Eddie, and he has feelings for you.” Hen said.

“Wh-what...how..I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Buck blushed. “ I do not like Eddie, and he doesn’t like me.”

“Whatever you say Buckaroo.” Hen laughed.

Buck finally left the station to go home. He was sitting on his couch relaxing when he heard pounding on his door. He answered it to an angry Eddie.

“I’m not sure why you’re here, but if you’re mad about the whole Marcus thing. Don’t be it was a one time thing that mean nothing, we only went on the date so our friends would shut up about it. He’s not The friend I’m interested in.” Buck said.

“What?” Eddie asked with wide eyes.

“What part of that want clear?” Buck blinked.

Buck was terrified of what he’d just said. Does Eddie now know I have feelings for him? Buck panicked just thinking about it.

“The last part. Who are you talking about.” Eddie intrigued.

“Nothing just forget it. We can just pretend this never happened.” Buck said turning away from Eddie.

“What if I can’t forget it. What if all I can think about is you, and the thought of you being with anyone else drives me crazy. I don’t want to be just your friend.”Eddie said letting out a deep breath.

“Really?!” Buck smiled. “I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt about you for so long, but I didn’t want to lose our friendship. I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“How do you feel?” Eddie asked moving closer to Buck.

“I feel like you are the only person who can take a bad day and make it better. Today when we weren’t talking like we usually do was horrible it was the longest day ever. I need you to know that I am completely in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.” Eddie grinned.

They both started moving closer to eachother. They both looked at eachother in disbelief for awhile before sharing a kiss.

“Hen was right.” Buck laughed.

“About what?” Eddie smiled.

“Us needing to work on our communication. That was amazing and we could have been doing that for months if we hadn’t been too scared to say something.” Buck said gazing into Eddies eyes.

“All that matters is here and now, and right now with you feels so right. Wether we did this months ago or now it doesn’t matter. All that matters is now.” Eddie smiled putting his hand on Bucks cheek.

[dat-fandom-losertown]

The Drift Between Us

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Chapter 3: I’ll Do Better

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Hank Anderson x Connor and Gavin Reed x RK900

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: I think I’m just gonna stop putting swearing as a warning? Cause it’s in literally every single chapter Lmao, Arguments, a moment with PTSD and anxiety

Word Count: 8,739

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~> Masterlist <~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    “What’s got your panties in a twist this time?” Tina teases with her signature smirk as Gavin sits down next to her at their table.

    “Fuck off, Tina.” Gavin shakes his head, knowing that his words don’t have the venom they would if he were to say them to anyone else.

    “Aw, come on! You look even more bothered than usual and you’re not gonna tell me what happened?” The woman doesn’t give enough time for him to reply before continuing again. “I have ten bucks in my pocket that says it has to do with the new trainees roaming around.”

    “That and Hank fuckin’ Anderson.” He begins around the food in his mouth, “Didn’t even know he could be awake at this hour anymore, let alone be sober enough to pull the ‘my old partner’s the current marshal’ card. I mean, he didn’t use it on me, but I heard him use it on one of the new fuckers.”

    “One of the trainees? What’d they do?”

    “For once in my life I was just mindin’ my own fuckin’ business, when two newbies come around the corner. Of course, I’m just trying to get to lunch, right? So I plan on just walking around them, but this kid fuckin’ tries to shoulder-check me! And when I didn’t budge he started acting like I started it!”

    “So you picked a proper fight?” Tina’s turned towards him now, engrossed in Gavin’s story.

    “No! Like I said, I just wanted some fuckin’ food! So I threatened the guy a bit and... gave a warning, you could say. I could immediately tell he had an ego larger than my ass, so I couldn’t just let him walk away, ya know?.”

    Another woman’s voice pipes up, “Wait, you said there were two trainees. What about the other one?” Gavin doesn’t know when she got here, but now she’s sitting across from Tina.

    “It was the same dude I saw daydreaming in the hall yesterday, and he kept trying to get the other dude to just walk away like the fuckin’ coward he is. He even got the shit beat outta him sometime after dinner yesterday. He was all bandaged up and limping a bit. Anderson rounded the corner before I could even start with him.”

    “And you said he was awake, walking around, and sober earlier? Wow.” Tina leans back in her chair. “I’m impressed. That’s the second time this month he’s been sober and calm so early in the day.”

    “You think he’s finally coming to terms with whatever happened to him?” Tina’s official partner– Angie? Allie? Amy? Who fuckin’ knows and who fuckin’ cares– asks, sounding genuinely hopeful for the washed up drunkard.

    Gavin barks out a harsh laugh, “Nah, there’s no way. His hangover probably just woke him up earlier than normal.”

    “What exactly do you have against him, Gav?” the same lady asks.

    “What do you mean ‘what do I have against him’? He’s done nothing but sit around on his ass drunk as hell for the past couple of years and no one’s done anything about it because he’s the ‘oh so great Pilot Anderson’ and his fuckin’ bff is the one in charge of this shit hole!” Gavin leans back in his chair with crossed arms, his food already scarfed down and tray empty. “If any of us acted the way he has been for even a month we’d be kicked out of here before we could even pack our stuff! Besides, isn’t he too fuckin’ old to pilot anymore anyway? Why in the hell is he even still here?”

    “He’s only barely in his forties you know,” Tina informs patiently, having heard this rant a hundred times over by now, “He started going grey in his early twenties, something about genetics. Can’t imagine the stress and grief helped at all, either.”

    “Grief. What could have possibly happened to make him ‘grieve’ for this long? Like, don’t get me wrong, I get it, but it’s been fuckin’ years of this shit. He needs to get it together, ‘cause at this point he’s just dragging us down.”

    Gavin lowers his head and averts his eyes, enviously thinking about how he wasn’t ever given the kind of treatment Anderson is given on a daily basis. His face must start looking softer because Tina looks at him with a sort of concern and confusion. He scowls at her and shakes his head with a huff in dismissal.

    All throughout training, each pilot is taught that no one can hold back any memories from their partner while in the drift. While that fact was usually used to keep trainees in line since everything they do will be seen by another person eventually, it was true. Mostly. After certain things took place long ago, Gavin accidentally stumbled upon a way to keep memories from whoever was his partner. From the complaints he’s heard in the past, it’s just as uncomfortable for them as it is for him, if not more so. So far, only Tina and her new partner have been able to put up with it more than twice..

    The whole point is, no one here truly knows his story. The people who did have either retired, or they were killed in action, or their name is Jeffery Fowler. No one knows what kind of life he had growing up, if he has siblings or not, how long he trained to be a pilot before arriving here; and nobody knows if Gavin’s “pissy, jackass attitude” is a result of something or if that’s just who he is.

    Spoiler alert: it’s just how he’s fuckin’ been his entire damn life, and he has no intentions to change any time soon. Even if Gavin wanted to, he doesn’t think he could actually change enough for it to matter, anyway. So fuck it.

    “You don’t know what happened!” Tina’s partner sounds thoroughly offended on Anderson’s behalf. She must be newer or more empathetic than he thought. “They said this started right after a particularly big battle with a kaiju, he probably lost family or something!”

    “I lost my family and my home when I was 17, and no one’s ever seen me moping around, constantly high as fuck and unable to do my job! ���Cause heaven knows I wouldn’t get drunk of all things to forget my problems, I still have some self-respect.”

    He must have said something wrong because the looks on both women’s faces make him feel like he’s the main attraction of a pity party. He scowls again and is about to snarl out “what?” when Tina finally speaks, albeit softly, as if he, Gavin Reed, a man tougher and more stubborn than the most overcooked jerky, would break.

    “You were only 17 when..?”

    And just like that, it clicks.

    “No, you fucks!” he exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, “I was kicked out by my bitch-ass mother. They haven’t died or anything like that. At least, I don’t think they have…”

    Both women relax, Tina already going back to her almost finished meal as if nothing happened, knowing full well that they weren’t going to get anything else out of Gavin for the rest of the week. However, her partner seems a bit more adamant on knowing the story, if the look in her eye is anything to go by. Just as she’s about to open her mouth, Gavin abruptly stands up. It’s time to get the hell outta dodge.

    “Well, as much as I’d like to say it was a pleasure talking to you asshats, I can’t.” Tina’s smirk is enough to let Gavin know that she knows he’s just messing around now. “Don’t have a sucky ass day, I guess. Or do, I’m not your fuckin’ parent.” He promptly turns with his empty tray in hand and leaves the food court area after putting everything in their designated places.

    Whenever Gavin gets worked up, going to the gym usually helps. Growing up, the only way he learned to deal with his short temper was to let it out through physical exertion. When he was younger, that meant getting into fights and punching walls until he felt calm and safer to be around again. Now, though, it means going to the gym and showing anyone else who may be in there how it’s done. Not only does he feel better about himself– contrary to popular belief, punching the nearest person or thing had never done well for his conscience after all was said and done– he also gets some of the best scores in fighting skill from his admittedly excessive training. To be completely honest, those high scores are probably the only thing keeping him here at this point.

    Gavin takes his sweet, precious time getting to the gym. He meanders through the endless, reinforced halls until he gets to his room. They placed him right across from Tina’s room since she’s the only one who can tolerate him and is the only one Gavin doesn’t regularly want to deck in the throat. Even though she has an official partner now, that girl’s still relatively new and Tina is a better match in the drift for Gavin than anyone else is. Now that he thinks about it, he may not be able to slack off like Anderson, but he can admit that the higher-ups of this place have done a lot more to keep him here than they likely would have for anyone else. Not even he had to do “intern work” for Fowler during his first week of training, and it’s that one assbag’s second day here and he’s already managed to fuck it up.

    He changes into his work out clothes quickly and grabs the wraps for his hands. He puts them on expertly on the way, having gone through the wrapping process much more often than anyone he knows has. Gavin’s about to turn into the gym when he hears the voice of that daydreaming coward coming from around the corner.

    “Connor, would you stop your whining. Do you want what happened today in class to happen again?”

    Gavin quickly backtracks to hide behind one of the support beams on the wall. He wants to know what happened during their class, because he has a feeling it has to do with how fucked up the guy was this morning.

    “No I don’t,” the same voice replies? Is he talking to himself? Is this another case of Fight Club? “But we just got told to lie down and relax today since our hands are too bruised to hold pens. I don’t think it’s wise to go in there in case–”

    “–In case we’re found here while this injured, I know.” Well, it’s definitely not the same person, since there were clearly two voices talking over each other just then. “You’ve said that only a million times now. We’re allowed to be in here, we just won’t be using the equipment.”

    Gavin takes a chance to lean his head out and look at whoever is talking. He immediately recognises daydreamer on the left by the light grey shirt he’s wearing, which means his identical twin is wearing the black shirt. The doppelganger– apparently named Connor– looks slightly worse off than his twin.

    These pilot wannabes just got here recently, right? So they must have been paired up for the initial evaluation and roughed each other up good. Maybe the twink-looking asshole isn’t a coward at all. Maybe the dude is just confident that he could win in a fight against Gavin. Although, that doesn’t explain why he was so certain that Gavin could win against that other fucker– was it Alex?– in a brawl just earlier. Maybe it’s more of an “You can’t beat me, but you can win against him” kinda deal.

    Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum both enter the gym, still continuing on with their conversation about morals and finding loopholes within rules and orders, and Gavin takes that as his cue to follow them inside.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    “I still think we shouldn’t hold back around the instructors. They’re here to evaluate us, right?” Connor asks, still very much concerned about hiding things from the people who are above them in rank.

    It’s just that, what if they get caught holding back and are punished for it? Connor doesn’t even want to think about the times that had happened while training with Amanda, let alone repeat it. He knows logically that Luther wouldn’t dream of doing something like that to his students, but the inconvenient part of Connor’s head is not letting him actually believe it. It’s better to expect the worst and get better results than assume decent results and get blindsided.

    “Yes, but if we don’t hold back, then they’ll probably make us graduate much earlier, which means less time to find new partners.” Ritch hisses at him.

    Connor just sighs, knowing he’s right but not liking to go behind instructors’ backs, even for something as important to them as this. Ritch likely knows what kind of war is going on in his head right now, which is probably why he’s being much more patient with him than usual today.

    “I know you don’t like this, but it’s necessary.”

    “I know. You’re right, as always.” Connor relents finally, sitting down in the far corner of the gym where it will be obvious that they’re just sitting there, watching everyone else train and work out. They need to get a feel for how much they should be holding back for now, and how fast they should progress throughout training.

    A few minutes pass of silently watching a man on a treadmill, another at a punching bag, and a woman lifting weights before Connor leans over to speak into Ritch’s ear.

    “Are we going to match their skill? Or are we going to try going weaker than them?”

    “After the show we put on earlier, I don’t think we can pull off playing as much weaker or less skilled than these people without the others becoming suspicious.” he answers immediately, eyes never leaving the tiring man on the treadmill.

    Connor nods silently, leaning back into his own space again. It isn’t long until Ritch is leaning over to whisper in his ear, this time.

    “Do you see the guy at the punching bag?”

    “Yes?” Connor confirms, watching the man go to town on the hanging bag.

    His technique is very good, and he has a lot of power behind each punch. It’s obvious that he’s tougher and stronger than he looks, not unlike Ritch and himself. Connor wonders if Ritch is going to suggest matching with him. It wouldn’t be a good idea at all, seeing as how he seems to be at almost the same level as them. Plus, judging by the scars littered around his face and arms, he has real experience in combat, which gives him a leg up on the other trainees.

    Actually… That might be Pilot–

    “That’s Gavin Reed.” Ritch unknowingly confirms his thought. “He’s trouble, so just try your best to avoid and ignore him. I’ve already run into him twice and both times he’s tried to pick a fight with me.”

    That wasn’t what Connor was expecting. He knew the rumors of Gavin Reed being testy and short-tempered, but he’s picking fights with Ritch of all people so soon after their arrival?

    “Really? It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.”

    “Yea. The first time he shoulder checked me while I was walking on the correct half of the hallway while he was going the opposite way, and the second time happened just before lunch. Apparently Alex bumped into him but he–” he nods to Gavin “–was adamant on finishing what was started. Mr. Anderson had to come and diffuse the situation.”

    Connor turns to face Ritch. “Mr. Anderson was there?”

    “Yes.”

    “Did he seem okay? He seemed to have a terrible hangover this morning at lunch, and I’m sure any yelling that was happening wasn’t helping.”

    Now Ritch turns to him. “Why do you care? He hasn’t been in a jaeger in years. Unless you became much more attached to who he once was than I thought.”

    Connor huffs out what could be considered a growl and turns back to Gavin, “Can’t a guy just care about someone else’s health?”

    “Not you.” Ritch follows Connor’s gaze, “When you care about someone’s health, it’s one of the first signs that you’re getting attached to someone, and I really don’t believe that Mr. Anderson is someone you should be getting attached to.”

    “Why do you think that?” Immediately defensive.

    “People talk, and he isn’t–.”

    “Just like how they used to talk about us?”

    “This is different than us.”

    “How so?”

    Ritch sharply turns back to his twin, irritation causing his eyebrows to set even lower and his mouth to thin. “Look, I don’t give a damn about who you imprint on or whatever anymore. I am trying to help you out here, because unlike the times people have talked about us, what people are saying about Mr. Anderson are all factual and we’ve both seen the proof. You need to lay off of him because not everyone feels the incessant need to not be alone.”

    Connor finally allows himself to snap back. “Maybe you’re wrong this time. Yes, he drinks and he’s a miserable human being who doesn’t like other people, but how do we know that just who he is? What if he’s just like how we were way back in the orphanage, where everyone treated us like glass or ruined goods all the time? What if he wants– needs someone to be fuckin’ normal around him for a change to bring him out of his pit, and no one is there?”

    “If he wanted someone, he would have found someone. He had plenty of friends before he started this!” Ritch raises his voice from a whisper, and Connor can already tell that this isn’t going to end well, especially since he isn’t willing to roll over and surrender this time.

    “We had plenty of friends too, but they just didn’t understand once they found out, huh? They ended up just making things worse until all we had was each other. And there’s the thing! We still had one other person who understood! We had each other! And we’ve never remembered whatever trauma we’ve been through! He remembers it probably like it was yesterday and he is completely alone!”

    “This isn’t a fairy tale, Connor! This is real life, and in real life you can’t just swoop in and save the depressed, rumored suicidal alcoholic through the magical power of friendship!”

    “I don’t plan on saving anyone!” Connor shouts. The entire room becomes silent all of a sudden. He takes that moment to take a breath and continue at a normal speaking volume, “This is what you and everyone else don’t understand. I don’t want to save or fix people! I just want them to realize that there’s still hope for a somewhat normal life after their entire world shifted on its axis!” Connor takes another breath, recognizing that the three people in the room are no longer hiding the fact that they’re listening to him.

    “I know I’ve said before that people can’t ‘fix’ or ‘save’ other people. They can only ever offer hope and a sense of normality among the chaos and hope that person finds enough of their own strength to fix themselves. And go ahead and make fun of me for being ‘naive’ or whatever you want. This is what I’ve always thought and this is the one thing I will not let anyone change about me. Now, I’m going to go take a nap. Enjoy your people watching.”

    With that, Connor calmly makes his way across the gym area, a contradiction to the anger showing on his face and burning in his chest. He needs to calm down, and the best way to do that is to curl up in a calm, quiet place. He nods a silent greeting to the supposed troublemaker, Gavin Reed, on his way towards the door. Mostly to spite Ritch, but also because the guy had a really good form and the strength to back it up, and that deserves some kind of acknowledgement in Connor’s opinion.

     Connor vaguely hears his name being called by Ritch as he steps out of the gym area, and normally that would be enough to make him pause, which then gives him think over the argument. Nine times out of ten, during this process of thinking things over, his brain somehow convinces himself that the entire fight was his fault and the person won’t ever forgive him. This time, though, he doesn’t pause. He doesn’t give his messed up head a chance to twist things on him. Connor knows he’s right this time, and he’s not going to allow himself to bow down to Ritch about this topic. In this case, bowing down to Ritch would be the equivalent of bowing down to Amanda, and she isn’t here to control him anymore.

    No matter how far Connor was pushed during training as punishments, he never let her think she brainwashed that part of him, and she had not gone easy on him whatsoever.

    Call him naive, childish, innocent, too optimistic, whatever. He’s heard all of that and much more and much worse from countless people. He likes to give people the benefit of the doubt, he likes giving people second and sometimes third chances (but only if they truly deserve it, and never a fourth). He likes to think that most people in the world don’t mean to do harm, and if they do they have a reason behind it. This way of thinking is the only thing that keeps him going some days, and on the days he’d temporarily forgotten how to maintain that mindset were the days that not even threats and cruel promises from Amanda could get him out of his bed. Mr. Anderson may have been able to get away with staying in bed most days, but that’s because he was once a decorated jaeger pilot. Connor is barely an official trainee, he can’t afford any more missed time.

    “Connor!”

    The familiar, gruff voice snaps him out of his thoughts. It doesn’t sound like that’s the first time he’s tried calling Connor, either.

    “I apologise Mr. Anderson,” He starts with, turning on his heel quickly to not keep the older man waiting for his full attention a moment longer, “I was a bit lost in my head there for a few moments. I won’t let it happen again.”

    Mr. Anderson makes a face that falls between scowling and confusion, “Must’ve been deeper in there than you thought ‘cause this ain’t close to any place you’d be needed.”

    Looking around, he’s right. Connor doesn’t recognise these walls at all. There are different pipes and the floors are a slightly different texture than the rougher, more worn down metal or concrete of the other places he’s seen. He’s definitely in a bunker area, though, just not anywhere he’s been before, which means he’s probably in the area meant for more experienced pilots. Their bunkers are placed closest to the jaeger loading docks for faster take off. Connor must have taken a wrong turn at some point, still not completely used to this place’s layout.

    It was probably for the best, though, since the first place Ritch would surely check for him is their room (especially since he claimed that he was going to take a nap), and he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened in the gym nor a chance to apologize to his brother for the sake of ending the fight. Both options are equally possible at this moment, so plan “get back to the dorm to calm down in the quiet” changes to plan “avoid Ritch while finding a good place to calm down in”.

    “Fucks sake, Connor!” Mr. Anderson calls again, once more sounding like that wasn’t the first thing he’s said to the younger man since he had zoned out.

    Connor immediately tenses, not liking when people start raising their voices at him, and snaps out of his thoughts again. Here he is, causing problems and inconveniences for people again, just like the fuck up he’s been lately. He needs to find a calm, peaceful place to relax sooner rather than later; he can’t be in public any longer like this.

    “I’m sorry,” Connor takes a step back, then another, all while curling into himself, “I must have taken a wrong turn, I apologize for taking up your time,” He takes a few more steps back, not lifting his gaze from the ground, “I’m sorry, I’ll leave now. Sorry again–” Connor finishes weakly and darts out of the area, giving Mr. Anderson no chance to say anything to him.

    He tries to force his head to stay in the real world so he can actually register where is and find out where he’s going, but it’s slowly getting more difficult. He speed walks through the huge jaeger storage room, easily dodging all of the busy people moving about and doing their jobs. After a particular quick change in direction to avoid the woman with her nose in her clipboard, Connor is painfully aware that his leg is still throbbing from this morning, despite the painkillers he was given.

    At the reminder of the training room, he quickly finds a safe spot to stand in then checks the time. He hadn’t realised how much time has passed since lunch, and he isn’t sure how long of the past hour and a half was spent in the gym people watching and how much of it was spent wandering around aimlessly. He supposes it doesn’t matter at the moment. What does matter is that the training room should be empty by now, since everyone should be taking the written part of the exam so they can get a break from the physical exertion.

     Connor eventually makes it to the vacant room successfully. No one else tried to stop him or talk to him. No one else seemed to take any particular note of him at all. There was no sign of Mr. Anderson, Gavin Reed, or Ritch that he’d been able to find. He should be safe here.

    The first thing he does when he enters the room is find the best spot to spend over an hour in. He decides to camp in the left corner of the room, leaning against the wall the doorway he entered from is on. A minute or so of sitting and bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers pass before Connor decides to do some stretching. Yoga has always been his guilty pleasure and one of the few things that calmed him down completely. Besides, Amanda never complained about him being more flexible during fights. She said it complimented Ritch’s more solid technique.

    Why does every little thing bounce back to her? Stop that. She’s gone now, so stop thinking about her. Stop thinking…

    He isn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he knows he’s been in the Child’s Pose for a fair amount of time, if the pin pricks in his calves and feet and the ache rising in his knees and lower back have anything to say about that. With a quiet grunt, he rolls onto his back and straightens out his body, trying to stretch out all of the aching joints and muscles. Connor doesn’t think it would be as bad if it was his entire body that ached, because then it would be easier to ignore it and move on.

    “Oh shit. Connor, what are you doing in here?” North asks, making Connor jump.

    Connor should have realized that he wasn’t alone in the room. With how tired he was, and still is, there’s no way he would have woken up on his own while the sun was still up.

    Connor notes the random sounds of concern and confusion and the footsteps growing closer to him. He decides to go with sarcasm and humor, rather than the blunt truth. He’s already caused enough inconveniences today, and he knows this group well enough to know that they won’t somehow be offended by it.

    “Oh, you know. Just doing yoga. I don’t recommend falling asleep in the middle of a pose though…” Connor fails to cover a groan as he sits up. His legs have gotten a bit better, but his back and ankles certainly haven’t yet. “Yea, definitely not the best position to fall asleep in.”

    Markus offers a hand to lift him up to his feet, and Connor gladly takes it. “Why are you doing yoga in here of all places? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

    “I didn’t even know you did yoga,” Josh jumps in.

    Connor elects to ignore Markus’ question for the time being, “It’s always been a guilty pleasure of mine, and once my… Once the person who was taking care of me and Ritch figured out I was doing yoga in my spare time instead of doing extra studying, she didn’t actively try to stop me.” He starts leaning and twisting his torso in different directions to try to stretch his back, grimacing at how it pulls at some of the bandages and injuries on his torso. “She actually said that my flexibility and fluidity in fights complimented Ritch’s more rigid and solid form.”

    “Jesus,” Simon breathes out, “The way you and Ritch describe– Amanda was it?” Connor nods, “Makes it seem like she wasn’t your stepmother at all.”

    One would think that Connor would learn to think before replying.

    “That’s because she really wasn’t.” He finally straightens up for good, his back better, now. “I think she only adopted us because we said we wanted to become jaeger pilots when we grew up. Well, I did, anyway.” Connor adds that last part softly, massaging his left palm with his right thumb.

    “Wait,” Josh blurts, “You said her name was Amanda?”

    “Yes?” Why does Josh look like he’s found the missing last piece to a 500 part jigsaw puzzle?

    “Amanda, as in, Amanda Stern? Do you share her last name?”

    Seeing how everyone’s eyes light up confuses Connor even more. He’s definitely missing something here.

    “Yes? Have you met her before or know somebody else who has?”

    “Have we met her!?” North suddenly exclaims, “Are you kidding me!? Only a small group of people have met her, everyone else just knows of her and her work! She’s a fucking legend among the jaeger pilot and special forces trainers! She always trains the best fighters! No wonder you two are so far out of our league! Especially if you’ve been in her care for so long!”

    “I didn’t realise she was popular.”

    “She’s more than just popular. She’s downright famous within the jaeger and military community.” Simon corrects.

    “I’m actually shocked you didn’t know. Did you never question what those gatherings were, as you and Ritch call them?” Josh asks.

    “Uh, no? Asking particularly dumb questions usually meant more work the next day for us, so neither of us wanted to ask. We just knew that wealthy people came over for conversation and drinks and we had to stay out of the way unless sought out and spoken to.”

    Markus seems to snap out of his silent contemplation then. “More work for asking dumb questions. A life wearing nothing but uniforms and sleepwear, little to no toys and electronics growing up despite her having the funds for more than enough. That mixed with how you guys are pretty much soldiers already and claim to have learned most of it on your own… She does not sound like someone who deserves the high praise she gets. It all sounds questionable at best.”

    “I mean… I guess? But she was only trying to get us used to following orders and stuff so we wouldn’t get in trouble here.” Right? “I don’t think she wasn’t a bad person? She just liked having things a certain way and was very determined to get it that way. We just weren’t good enough pilots for her in the beginning, is all. She was very nice and pleasant to us when we did something right, and always was to other people, too.”

    Whatever Markus is thinking, Simon catches on too. Maybe they have the telepathy thing that Connor and Ritch have, too. “Were you and Ritch holding back this morning?”

    Connor doesn’t know where this is going, but he doesn’t like it.

    “What do you mean? We were told to go all out so we could be evaluated properly.”

    “That’s what you were told to do,” Markus puts a kind hand on his shoulder. It’s oddly and undeniably comforting. “But did you actually?”

    “No. We held back.” Ritch’s voice says from the doorway, having just popped in, “We had to be at least a little more gentle than usual because we were on those thin mats, and not mud or thicker foam like we’re used to. But after seeing everyone else’s skill levels this morning, we decided it would be best to blend in and hold back more.”

    “What happened to keeping that hidden? What if Luther and Chloe find out?” Connor steps towards his brother, causing Markus’ hand to fall from his shoulder.

    “I see no reason to hide that from this group in particular.” Ritch remains as stoic and unbothered as always. “They’ve proven themselves to be trustworthy, and at least two of them had already figured it out. It’d be more effort to try to continue hiding it from them.” Connor goes to retort, but Ritch continues, “Why are you getting upset? I thought you wanted to come clean?”

    Connor has to curl his hands into fists and clench his jaw to keep the angered words and growls from leaving his mouth. It doesn’t help in the slightest that he never got to properly calm down from the fight earlier. He just fell asleep on the floor.

    “What brings you here, Ritch?” he asks calmly, instead.

    He rolls his eyes– a thing he would have gotten smacked for if they were still under Amanda’s roof, Connor’s brain supplies. “Well, you kind of stormed out earlier.”

    “That generally means that person doesn’t want to be in the other’s presence anymore.”

    “Oh would you stop being a child for two seconds and come with me to eat dinner. You need to eat and we can finish talking then.”

    Connor sharply looks to the side. “I’ll be there in a few. Go ahead without me.” He continues as Ritch opens his mouth to say something, “And if you just stay here and wait for me I will purposely skip dinner and breakfast tomorrow. And you know I’ve lasted longer without food before and it won’t faze me.”

    “And you know it won’t faze me either.”

    “Won’t it?” Connor usually lasted just over three days without food before giving in during Amanda’s “survival evaluations”. Ritch only lasted one and a half on average.

    There’s a heavy, tense silence where Connor is painfully aware of the other four’s presence, and that they have no clue what to make of this or how to handle it. Thankfully, Ritch caves first with a sigh.

    “Fine then, but I don’t want you near Mr. Anderson.”

    Connor clenches his fists and law. “Good thing you’re not my guardian or superior then.”

    “He is, though. Your superior.”

    “And he hasn’t kicked me off of his table yet. And don’t even claim that he could be letting me stay just to be polite or whatever. We both know he isn’t like that.”

    Another silence, less tense and much shorter this time, though. Yet it’s broken by Ritch’s sigh once more.

    “Fine.” He snaps, shaking his head, “It’s your life, your downfall, your embarrassment, and your panic attack when he comes to dislike you.” He turns around and starts walking out of the room. He doesn’t pause as he calls over his shoulder, “Don’t come crying to me this time. This will be all your doing, and I am not your guardian.”

    “Wasn’t going to.” the other half calls back.

    Well that was a disaster. Well, not so much of a disaster as a wreckage of notable size. Here Connor was, thinking that it would be himself that would ruin his relationship with Markus, North, Josh, and Simon, but oh no. No, it was going to be Ritch that destroyed it in the end. That robotic asshat.

    Well, time to do some damage control.

    “I am so sorry you guys had to see that–”

    “Are you two like this all the time?” Josh interrupts.

    His question makes him freeze and stumble over his previous thought. Why would he care how he and Ritch act around one another?

    “Yes and no? I mean, when we’re not talking business, we’re either doing our own thing and leaving each other alone or training together, but our arguments don’t usually last this long. It’s usually solved one way or another by now.” Connor takes a deep breath, and finally relaxes his fists and stature, not realizing he was tense for a fight. He turns to the group that is now cautious, not unlike treading on eggshells, but not treating him as if he were delicate or unpredictable. More like unsteady, if he was forced to choose a word. “You guys know how siblings are, after all. This will pass.”

    No one says or indicates anything. Are siblings not usually like this?

    Markus takes a step forward. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but were you and Ritch pitted against each other often?”

    Connor almost considers leaving the room right then, making use of the out he was given. He’s been talking way too much today, anyway; he feels the way his throat is getting hoarse with how much he’s been using his voice. On top of that, he just doesn’t want to go into detail about their training. He doesn’t want their opinions of him or Ritch to change because of what they’ve done in the past. Although, if his twin didn’t feel like waiting until they were alone to continue their dispute, then why should Connor spare him of this?

    “I was under the impression that everyone fought against their partner in order to train. It helps both trainees’ styles to be either complementary to one another or near identical, and it helps them think in similar or complementary ways during battles, too. Did you guys not spar against each other regularly?”

    “There’s a difference between sparring against your partner and being pitted against them, Connor.” North responds this time, uncharacteristically subdued.

    “Well, yes, I suppose so…” There are so many regrets right now. After this, he’s just not going to talk anymore. It’s not worth it.

    Simon takes a slow step forward, watching his reaction, “Stop me if I’m going too far, but were you guys ever told to fight with the intentions to harm or subdue each other, rather than just to train? ‘Cause that is usually considered illeg–”

    –hand in his hair, boot digging into his back. He can’t breathe, he may as well be drowning on the mud he’s being pushed into–

    “No.” he says with a sharp shake of his head. Whether it’s an answer to Simon’s question or a reaction to his thoughts, not even Connor himself knows.

    –he takes the knife from his leg, wincing and hissing as it tears through–

    No.

    –loses his grip, causing him to be pinned again. He can’t move his arm. Why can’t he move his arm?–

    No, no no no no no–

    –it’s cold in summer..? Why is my vision so blurry? Wait, why am I alone now? No, wait! Don’t leave me! Please! I’ll do better! I promise I’ll do bet–

    “Connor?!”

    Connor finally snaps out of it with a small gasp, realizing that his vision really is getting blurry, but for a different reason. Crying is extremely disgraceful and impolite, especially in front of others. You have to be on your best behavior in front of people, and crying and curling up on the ground is not good behavior. He straightens up and forcibly relaxes his posture, using a single knuckle to wipe the threatening tears in the corners of his eyes. It’s now that he realizes he was beginning to hyperventilate. He needs a minute to be alone and calm himself, but he doesn’t want to be left alone. He really doesn’t want to be left alone–

    Ah, but he isn’t alone right now and they won’t be leaving him, he can distantly hear them telling him that right now. Maybe there’s a chance they won’t completely avoid him in the near future. Although, for now, he needs to be fine, and his small group of allies certainly don’t see him as fine right now. He needs to calm down. He’s making a fool of himself in front of them. He needs to reassure them that he’s fine. He’ll be fine. He’ll definitely be fine–

    “Connor, I’m so sorry.”

    “No, it wasn’t your fault. I apologize for the way I reacted just then.” Manners are key, especially when forced to cut a conversation short. He bows his head with practiced grace, “And to answer your question, no, we weren’t ever told to fight each other with such an intent. Honestly. It– ah– we weren’t technically against each other…” He looks up at the clock on the wall; it’s nearly dinner time. “Ah, you guys came in here earlier for a reason and I just keep getting in the way. My apologies.” Markus opens his mouth to speak, but Connor doesn’t give him time. “Thank you for keeping me company, though.”

    “Connor, I’m sorry for asking–”

    No no no. Can’t think of that. Don’t think. It never happened. It was just a bad dream. Just think of it as a bad dream. Ritch said it would help. Amanda may lie, but Ritch doesn’t. Does he?

    “No no, you’re quite alright. You didn’t know, it wasn’t your fault. It’s natural for people to be curious, and it really wasn’t that bad. I simply have a habit of over reacting to things.” Connor tries to make his following laugh sound genuine, but falls short. “Well, I should go now. Dinner will be starting soon and you still have business to attend to. I’ll see you guys later if you’re interested.”

    Connor finally manages to shuffle out of the room, but he never makes it to dinner that night, even if he told Ritch he would. Despite what he just claimed, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk to them again. People hate when others are large burdens, and that’s exactly what he’s becoming for them. He thought he could be better with fresh, new faces, but apparently it doesn’t work that way. It’s not how it works. It won’t ever be how it works, so it’s better to just leave them alone and let them have peace.

    Ritch was right. He probably needs to start leaving Mr. Anderson alone. He understands now. Maybe he can still sit there to be alone? But why would he stay here at the base just to be alone? If he can’t even handle getting casual friends, how will he ever find a partner? And Connor’s replaceable in a way the ex-pilot is not, so they would not be nearly as patient with him.

    Does that mean he needs to quit after all? What could he even do if not this? What would Ritch do? Connor’s the reason he’s even here in the first place. He’s the reason Ritch will be stuck in a life style he never particularly wanted growing up. Why can’t Connor ever do anything right? Everyone is right, he’s too naive, too childish, too quick to get too deep into things. It needs to stop. He’ll pack his things tomorrow and tell the instructors about all of this and he’ll be gone by tomorrow evening or the next morning, whenever Ritch isn’t around. If Ritch finds out he’ll definitely blame Connor and make him stay with him as payback or something. Connor can’t stay, though. He’s useless.

    His room’s door opens with a creek, causing Connor to instinctively curl into himself, but he forces himself to relax and slow his breathing. If Ritch thinks he’s asleep when he gets back, he’ll leave him alone. With every footstep, adrenaline rushes through Connor. He’s distantly aware that he’s being like this because he’s afraid Ritch is going to pop out of nowhere and confront him, knowing he won’t have the energy to fight back now. They’ve been arguing all day and a good chunk of yesterday too, it’d only make sense for Ritch to try something like that.

    Instead of doing so, though, Connor simply changes into sleeping clothes and climbs into bed. The main light was never turned on, so the room has been coated in darkness from the start. After some time of resting, though, there’s the creak of the door, then a click accompanied by a soft, yellow light flooding the room. It stays on for a long while before Connor hears Ritch shifting around again. This time, the other twin climbs out of the lower bunk and sounds like he’s about to put on his real clothes again, but pauses in the process.

    “Connor.” The man in question can hear the stern frown in Ritch’s voice. He uses all of his self control to not stiffen because of it, but it apparently wasn’t good enough. “Connor, I know you’re up. Why didn’t you eat?” that same stern frown is likely still on his face.

    Connor doesn’t move, hoping that if he keeps up the act and ignores his racing heart, Ritch will convince himself that he was just seeing things. He knows it’s not a realistic thing to hope for, but still.

    “Connor, even if you weren’t up before, I know you would be by now. Why weren’t you in the food court? The others were.”

    No response. He remembers what he said before in the training room, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone anymore. It just makes things worse. Besides, his throat is still a bit scratchy.

    “Fine. Be a child. I don’t care. I’m not putting up with this shit anymore.”

    No, wait, please don’t leave. I take it back, I’ll get better at talking so I can do it without messing up, like you can. I’ll teach myself how to respond better so I don’t have to worry about making things worse anymore. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want anyone to hate me. I don’t want to be alone again. Please–

    “Connor?” Soft footsteps creep closer. “Are you crying?” If Connor didn’t know better, he’d almost say that Ritch sounded concerned.

    Before responding, he takes a shaky breath so he can speak without too many tremors in his voice. “I’m not crying.” Another, shorter breath. “It’s impolite and childish, especially in front of people.” The next breath is shakier, and definitely a give away that he’s slowly failing his attempt at not crying. “I’m fine. You need rest.”

    “Connor–”

    “You’re not my guardian. You don’t need to babysit me. Just let me self destruct like you said you would. It’s not even anything serious. Goodnight.” Just because his sleep schedule is going to be completely ruined, doesn’t mean Ritch’s has to be as well.

    “Connor…”

    He doesn’t respond.

    There’s a shuffle of Ritch sitting down on the bed as he asks, “Did they ask more questions?”

    “Yes, but you were there for them.” Maybe he’ll let him go to sleep if he plays along.

    “Was that the only thing they asked?”

    Connor sighs, annoyed. “Yes.”

    “What did they ask?”

    Connor finally makes himself sit up. “Ritch, I just said–”

    “Connor.” If a tone of voice could paralyze, Connor wouldn’t even be able to blink.

    He sighs again, this time in defeat. “If I tell you, would you let me sleep?”

    “Depends on if what I’m told and if it’s a lie or not.”

    Connor hesitates.

    “...if I promise to tell the truth, will you leave me alone?”

    “Depends on what the truth is.”

    “Then no.”

    Ritch jumps up from where he sat on his lower bunk. “Connor! I swear to god–”

    “They brought it up, okay? God, are you happy now?”

    “Brought what up, Connor? Use your words–”

    “It.” he snarls, “They asked a question that made me think of when it happened. And I know you aren’t as affected by it as I am, but I can’t handle anything like you can. I just can’t...” Connor finally lets himself fall back down on his bed in a desperate attempt to hide the silent tears that are finally falling.

    This time, Ritch is the one that doesn’t have a response. Good. Let him think about when it happened. Let him suffer just like Connor was trying to avoid because he’s a nosy prick.

    Ritch heaves a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I can talk to them about it tomorrow, try to calm them down. They’re probably very worried about you or both of us now.”

   Connor grunts. They probably should be worried, but he knows that leaving things as they are now would only make things worse for himself in the long run.

   “Connor.” Another grunt. “Please try to eat something tomorrow. I’ll talk to Luther to see if you can take tomorrow off. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

    “I’m not a child anymore.” he grumbles.

    “No, you’re not.” he agrees softly.

    Another grunt, this time followed by a heavy sigh. He won’t be getting that break. Even if he did get it, the chances of him being put in the danger zone of being sent home are more likely than most of the other trainees. If he can’t even handle being here for two days without becoming so completely and utterly useless, then what business does he have trying to be a fully-fledged pilot? None, that’s the answer.

    He is distantly aware that Ritch has started trying to talk to him again, but Connor really just wants to go to sleep and forget about today, and so he does. He assumes his twin goes to bed soon after he did, though, because when he tries to wake Connor up for breakfast the next morning, he appears to be well rested. No obvious dark circles or bags under his eyes, no sluggish movements, his eyes clear. That’s good. Ritch will do just fine here. He knows how to talk like a normal human being and responds to others well. He’ll definitely find a new partner in no time.

    Ritch walks out the door. Connor almost tries to get up to get ready for class, then figures that if he’s actually going to quit soon, then he may as well just stay put. Therefore, he’s still in bed by the time breakfast ends and the first class begins. No one tries to come get him. He’s not surprised, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still sting. He tries to convince himself that it’s just because Ritch told everyone that he needs a day off, but, if anything, that makes the sting in his chest worse for some reason.

    He’ll try going in after lunch, after he’s had some time to settle down a bit.

    After deciding on that, he goes to his dresser drawer and pulls out the small bottle of strong sleeping essential oil that Ritch and Amanda have no clue he has, let alone needs often enough for it to maybe be unhealthy. Here, he has it stuffed in the back of his dresser-locker under some clothes. He rubs a bit of it onto his foot then pulls a sock on because he doesn’t want that horrendous smell getting all over his sheets. His head doesn’t even quite make it onto the pillow properly before he’s out like a light.

    Sleeping means no thinking, and no thinking means no stressing, after all, and that oil does a damn good job at knocking people out.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~> Masterlist <~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait! I promise future updates won’t take this long! I’m just in the middle of a move and  life kinda bitch slapped me outta no where there for a hot minute, but I think things are going better now. The next update probably won’t be as soon as I want it to be, but y’all won’t have to wait four months again Lol. Thank you to anyone who stuck around this long, despite me being new Heheh 😄 Thank you for reading and I hoped y’all didn’t hate it!! I absolutely promise that next chapter will be filled with lots of comfort and fluff!! 😄💖💕

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick & Reader Chapter 31

Warnings: nsfw for a few moments

Squinting your eyes open, you see John standing in front of the window and you watch as he pulls his favorite Henley on. He tiptoes to the closet and pulls out his shoes and gently sits on the edge of the bed to put them on. The bed shifts a little as Bleu jumps up and John tries to calm down when he begins to whimper for attention. John starts to stand when you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him back down.

“Oh, you’re awake.” he whispers and looks over his shoulder, smiling, “Good morning, beautiful.”

You nuzzle into his back and your hands roam over his chest and down to his tummy, “Good morning.”

He leans back on the bed and you snuggle into his side, pressing kisses to his neck. “You hungry? We should probably eat some breakfast and tidy up the house.”

“Tidy up the house? It’s spotless. It always is.” you say as you climb on top of him and start to lift his shirt, kissing his stomach and licking up the thick scar that runs down his stomach to his belly button. “I have a better idea.”

Grinding against him, you feel your underwear growing wet and you’re desperate for him. He keeps his hands clasped across his chest and you grab them, shoving them under the waistband of your pajama pants and onto your ass. He bucks his hips slightly when your lips meet and your tongue dives into his mouth as he pulls your pants down. You feel him grip your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him. He shakes his head and laughs, pulling your pants back up.

“We can’t, we have things to do today.” He pulls away and holds you up by your shoulders, straightening his arms out and laughs as you reach out for him, fingers barely grazing his shirt. You’re still straddling him and you roll your hips again, watching as his eyes grow wide and you feel satisfaction when you feel him growing harder.

“Fine.” you huff.

He starts to laugh and sits up, holding you tight as he gets off the bed and places you on the floor. “I’m going to eat breakfast, you should take a shower.”

“I hate you.” you pout as he walks away. You know you’re being dramatic, but you can tell he loves how much you want him.

He turns around and laughs, “No, you don’t.”

“Okay, I don’t.” you roll your eyes as he walks back over and wraps his arms around your waist. “But I’m mad at you.”

“No,” he licks his lips and leans close to your face, “You’re not.”

“I am,” you stomp your foot a little and he laughs. “You know how much I want you and you’re making me suffer. Your hair looks so good today, and I can tell you’ve just trimmed your beard, it looks perfect.” you reach out, running your fingers through his hair, and when your hand moves to his beard, he presses a kiss to the palm of it. “You look so fucking gorgeous today.”

“Thanks.” he smiles.

“And I know you wore this shirt on purpose. You know how it clings to your arms and they look so fucking big, and your pecs look so good, I want to bite them. And these jeans…pure torture. Look at your ass in them.”

“Imagine how great it will be tonight when we’re alone.” he tucks your hair behind your ear and you close your eyes.

“It’s been two weeks…we didn’t even FaceTime that much. Only like, four times so you could say goodnight to me. And two times, we fell asleep while talking.” you pout and lay your head against his chest. “Then when you came home…I mean, I know we did stuff. But I miss you. I miss…” you stop talking and he pulls you back by your shoulders and you watch as a smile tugs at John’s lips.

“You miss what?”

“I miss you…being inside of me. I just miss you.” you frown and stomp your foot again.

“Well, you fell asleep on the couch when we got home last night.” he laughs and strokes your hair. You start to smile a little when you realize you woke up in your bed and in your pajamas. John had obviously carried you to bed and changed you, he was so delicate with you that you didn’t wake up once.

“Don’t you miss me?” you whine.

“Yes, of course.” he says, leaning close to kiss your forehead.

“Look, we’ve wasted like five minutes talking about this. That’s five minutes that could have been spent with you fucking me.”

“Tonight, I promise. Seriously, baby, go take a shower. They’ll be here in a little bit.”

“This is torture, Jonathan.” you sigh obnoxiously and mope as you walk to the bathroom and listen as he laughs at you.

__

You know you’ll be crawling around the floor with kids all day so you choose some black leggings and a sweater. Skipping down the stairs to the kitchen, you find John reading the newspaper and eating some nasty health cereal that reminds you of sawdust. You grab a yogurt from the fridge and lean against the counter as you eat.

“Still mad at me?” he asks from over the newspaper.

“Maybe.” you shrug.

He starts laughing and folds the paper up, bringing his bowl to the sink, “I love you.”

You stare at him as you lick your spoon clean and throw away your empty container. “Love you.”

“Don’t do that.” he grins and laughs.

“I’m not doing anything.” you say, licking your spoon again. As you walk over to place it in the sink, you brush your ass against him and he gasps.

Turning around to face him, you watch as he stalks closer and closer, reaching out to touch your shoulders. The atmosphere between the two of you is buzzing and you see John check his watch for the time and he sighs. Not enough time.

“Do you still want me, John?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” he furrows his brow and stares back at you.

“Just making sure.” you smile.

“I always want you.”

“Just not right now…” you laugh.

He points down to his pants; his cock is hard, pressing against the zipper of his jeans and you want to moan when you see the outline and remember how big he is. “Yes, right now I want you.”

You start to blush a little and smile, “Well, can you kiss me?”

“Of course.”

The kisses start off close mouthed and he gently pries your lips open with his and his tongue slides into your mouth. Your fingers curl around the edges of his front pockets and you pull him closer to feel him against you. His hands move from your shoulders down to your waist and he pins you to the counter, and he moves one hand back up to cup your face, pulling you in even close to deepen the kiss. Leaving your mouth, he starts trailing kisses across your cheek and down your neck.

John pulls away for a moment, staring at you and smiles as he leans back in to kiss you again. You lift his shirt up a little and reach into his pants to feel him in your hand, and John leans away from you, raising an eyebrow as he starts to laugh.  

“Can I just see it at least?” you ask and lightly bite your lip.

“Yeah, of course.” he laughs and starts to unbuckle his pants, pulling himself out to show you. His cock is hard and a bead of precum is on the tip, you lick your lips and start to lean down, but John stops you and quickly stuffs himself back into his pants.

“Tease.” you cross your arms over your chest and huff.

From over your leggings, you feel John’s fingers on your pussy and he rubs circles over your clit. His other hand cups your cheek as he crashes his lips to yours again. You moan a little as he pulls your leggings back and his fingers dive into your underwear and he inserts them with no hesitation, pumping fast. You grab onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling to the floor and he moans as he wraps his other arm around your waist, lifting up a little to get a better angle.

“Okay, that’s enough.” you exhale and push him away.

He looks to you and frowns, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You were doing everything right, that’s the problem.” you laugh and fix your sweater.

Bleu begins to bark and you know that Aurelio must be pulling into the driveway. John backs away a little more and fixes himself.

“Am I good?” he asks, moving to the sink to wash his hands.

“You’re good.” you lift your sweater up and see the wet spot on your leggings, “I’m gonna go change.”

“What?” John turns around at the sink and looks at you, “Why? You look so cute.”

You pull your sweater up again and point at the wet spot between your legs and John laughs. You run out of the kitchen and into your room, quickly changing your leggings and heading back to the living room. John has put Bleu in the backyard and he reaches for your hand.

“Come on.”

As you get closer to the door, you hear kids screaming and you look up at John, “What did you get us into, Jonathan?”

He opens the door and lets go of your hand to shake Aurelio’s. “Hey, Aurelio.”

“Hey, John. This is my wife, Amanda.” he gestures to a woman with shoulder length, blonde hair holding a baby. They’re both beautiful and you are almost breathless when you see Amanda smile. She’s stunning and you look over to see if John is checking her out – he’s not. He’s staring at you, smiling and you feel a little dumb when you realize how insecure you’ve become.

John reaches out and shakes her hand and gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Hi.” you reach out to shake her hand, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself. The baby in her arms automatically reaches out for you and you look at Amanda, “Oh, hi!”

“This is Harper. She loves people.” she laughs as she hands the baby to you.

“She is literally the most gorgeous baby I’ve ever seen.” you look at Harper as she smiles and laughs. “How old is she?”

“Eight months.”

She has olive skin like Aurelio, but hazel eyes like her mother -- the perfect mix of the two. The little boy on the other hand is the spitting image of his dad with a huge dimples to prove it.

Aurelio grabs the little boy as he runs past and he stands still. “This is Benjamin, but he likes to go by Benji. You remember Uncle John, don’t you? He’s come over to the house a few times. He’s going to watch you today. And this is his friend, Y/N.”

You lean down, still holding Harper and shake his hand, “Hello, Benji.”

He tugs on Aurelio’s shirt and he leans down as the little boy whispers in his ear. Aurelio laughs and nods his head, “Yes, I think the dog is here.”

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s in the backyard right now.” John says as he kneels in front of the little boy. “It’s pretty warm today, do you want to take him for a walk with me? We can throw the ball for him too.”

“Oh!” Amanda gasps and turns around to grab the stroller from the backseat.

It is warm out, but you all start to shiver when the wind blows and you hold Harper tight to your chest to shield her from it. John scoots you inside with the kids and walks Amanda and Aurelio to their car as they wave goodbye to their kids.

“So, Benji, tell me…how old are you?” you ask as you set Harper on the floor between your legs and spread her toys out in front of her.

“I’m six.” he holds up six fingers, waving them in your face.

“Six, oh my gosh. So, you go to school?”

“I’m in first grade.” he hops around excitedly. He starts to look around and when John walks back in, he runs and jumps at John, who thankfully catches him. “Where is the dog?”

“He’s outside. Should we go get him?” he asks and you catch John staring at you, smiling when he sees you trying to get your hair out of Harper’s grip.

Benji hops down and jumps around, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”

He has a lot of energy. This should be fun.

John leans over the back of the chair before letting Bleu in and hands you a hair binder, “You should put your hair up.”

“Good idea.” you take it from him and quickly put your hair is a messy bun on top of your head and out of Harper’s reach.

Bleu comes charging into the living room and you hold both hands over Harper’s face, shielding her again. When he sees the baby on the floor, he stops and sniffs cautiously. A little timid at first, but when she laughs, Bleu pounces at the floor and barks weakly. She reaches out to pet him and he licks her hand, making her laugh even more and he pounces at the floor again to get her to play. You can’t contain your laughter when you hear the giggles escaping from her and look at John to see him sitting in the chair, watching and laughing.

Harper grabs tight to Bleu’s collar, pulling herself up and your hands are hovering over her back in case she falls. She pats Bleu hard on his back and laughs when he starts to lick her face. The force of his tail wagging sends her tumbling back onto her butt and into your arms.

“Do you wanna go for a walk? We can just go around the block…maybe to the park down the street.” he asks as he stands up.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” you shake your head and shrug.

Benji is already in his coat and champing at the bit as he stands near the door. John watches you closely as you buckle Harper into the stroller and cover her up with a blanket. With a smile on his face, he helps you into your coat and zips it up to the neck, nearly choking you.

“John.”

“What?” he turns around to grab Bleu’s leash and looks at you as he pulls on his coat.

You unzip your jacket a little and shake your head, “You’re already turning into a dad. Nearly choked me out.”

“Sorry, but you gotta stay warm.” he says and hands you some gloves.

__

Walking next to you, John leans over and kisses your cheek, “This isn’t so bad.”

You shake your head, laughing loudly. “Yeah, for now. Just wait until he wants something and you say no, or Harper is tired and fussy.”

He laughs and you walk in silence for a few minutes as Harper coos in the stroller. When she laughs loudly, John leans forward and smiles at her, reaching out to tickle her tummy. Benji is walking several steps in front of you, holding tight to Bleu’s leash and John starts to laugh when Bleu turns around, looking at the two of you.

“I never thought I would be walking down the street with my girlfriend, our dog and two kids.” he chuckles a little and shoves his hands in his pockets, “Seems like a dream.”

You stop walking and turn to him, “I love you.”

He smiles and checks on Benji, then quickly leans over to kiss you, cupping your face in his hands as he presses his lips to yours. You hear Benji talking to Bleu and smile to yourself when you see how well behaved Bleu is being.

“He’s really good with kids.” you point at Bleu and John laughs as he jogs ahead, taking a tennis ball out of his pocket and hands it to Benji.

__

“Should we order some pizza for dinner?” John asks and Benji nods his head, then runs to the living room to watch cartoons.

“Will you take her? I have to pee. Really bad.” you hold Harper out in your arms and squeeze your legs together.

John backs away and shakes his head, “I don’t know, I’m good with Benji…but I don’t know about babies. Can’t you just put her on the floor?”

You scoot closer and hold her close to your chest again, “Jonathan, she’s not a sack of potatoes. I just can’t put her on the floor.”

“She was on the floor earlier.”

“Yeah…and I was sitting with her.” you say, laughing.

“I don’t know what to do with babies.” he admits, frowning a little, “What if I hurt her or something? What if she cries?”

“You’re not going to hurt her, and if she cries–”

“You think she’s gonna cry?” he looks up, worried and backs away.

“Baby, I’m going into the bathroom for literally three minutes, I think you can manage.” you nod and smile a little. Holding tight to Harper in one arm, you grab John’s hand and pull him to the couch. “Sit down.”

John does as he’s told and waits for more instructions. His hands start to shake a little and you kneel in front of him as you place Harper on his knee.

“She can sit up on her own for a little bit…but she’s a squirmy little thing.” you say and Harper leans out for you.

John lets out a small laugh and looks at you in amazement, “How are you so good at this?”

You shake your head and exhale, “I have no idea. Okay, so just…put your hand on her back and on her tummy to keep her upright. She kicks a lot,” you nod to his crotch, “So, watch out. And talk to her. Look at her, she wants to tell you a story, John.”

John finally looks down at Harper as she babbles and reaches for his face. Her fingers graze his beard and she giggles loudly, kicking her legs. You watch John as his eyes dart over her face, a smile tugs at his lips and he looks at you, “Am I doing this right? Is she okay?”

You reach over and wipe the drool off Harper’s chin and nod to John, “Yes. You’re doing fine.”

When you come out of the bathroom, you see John holding Harper up on his legs as he talks quietly to her. You slowly make your way over, trying to avoid the parts on the floor where the wood creaks and watch as John leans up to kiss Harper on the cheek. He stops himself, thinking it through for a moment and holds her up again to look at her face. Harper reaches out for his face again and starts to laugh as John leans forward, pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

You feel your knees almost buckle from how cute he is with her, and you start to think that maybe having a child with John someday wouldn’t be such a bad idea. If it happens, it happens, you think to yourself for a moment and smile as you walk over to join them.

You lean over the back of the couch and rest your head against his, “What are you two talking about?”

“She’s telling me that she thinks you’re really pretty.” he tilts his head back and looks at you.

“Well, thank you, Ms. Harper.” you reach out and tap her nose as she giggles.

John laughs and looks back at Harper as she reaches out for you. When you get her in your arms again, you watch John frown a little, almost sad to let her go. You hold Harper tight to your hip as you walk around the couch and plop her in your lap, sitting next to John. Harper sits half on your leg, half on John’s and she reaches out to grab John’s watch. You watch John as he leans forward a little to look at her face and he smiles when she laughs. Her already tiny fingers look minuscule as she wraps her hand around John’s finger and screams with joy when Bleu licks her foot.

“Hey.” he whispers.

“What?” you look at John and smile.

He looks at your lips and leans over to kiss you quickly. You tuck your legs under you and scoot closer to John, resting your head on his shoulder and find yourself imagining that this is your life. Both of you hold tight to Harper, and John uses his free hand to wrap it around your shoulder and hugs you closer to him. After a few minutes, his voice vibrates through his body and startles you.

“I guess I should order the pizza now.” he says and reaches out to help you stand up.

“Yeah, I should probably feed her.” you say as you look through the bag Amanda had packed.

“She can’t eat pizza?” he stops and turns to you. Your mouth drops open in shock and he starts to laugh, “I’m just kidding.”

“No, you’re not. You don’t know anything about babies.” you laugh and follow him into the kitchen, “You would be shit out of luck if I wasn’t here.”

“That’s true. I wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t here.”

“Now I can’t stop thinking about you watching these two on your own.” you laugh and John rolls his eyes.

“What can she eat? I can go to the store, grab some stuff. I don’t know what to grab, but you probably do.”

“Well, tonight she is going to get…” you look in the fridge and grab out some yogurt, “Yogurt and a banana…and some cereal that was already packed in her bag. We might have some other stuff in here too, which reminds me, we really need to go grocery shopping.”

“Are you sure that will fill her up?” John looks at the baby in your arms and instinctively reaches out to brush her cheek with his finger.

“Her tummy is a lot smaller than ours, John.” you say as you stand her up on the counter. She bounces up and down in your hands and John laughs.

“I still can’t believe how good you are at this.” his hand is on your back and he rubs lightly as he leans over to kiss you.

__

You look over at Benji who is laying on the floor with Bleu, both fast asleep. John gets up and picks up his plate, moving to you and taking yours, but you stop him, “No, it’s okay. I can do them.”

“Let me.” he says and gestures to Harper in your arms. “I’ll just throw them in the dishwasher.”

“No, I’ll do it. I have go to the bathroom anyway.”

You don’t, but it’s just an excuse to get John to hold Harper again. You pat the couch and John happily sits down. Still a little nervous to hold a baby, he scoots back and places pillows around him as you tuck her in his arms.

“She’s tired, so…” you push him to lean back against the couch and she yawns. “She’ll probably fall asleep. Just rock her a little.”

“Is this right?” he asks and bounces her lightly in his arms.

“Yup, that’s perfect.” you watch as her eyes slowly shut.

As you grab the plates, you look over at John. His feet are up on the coffee table and he’s leaning back, rocking Harper lightly in his arms with his eyes closed. You want to take a picture and send it to Aurelio, but you don’t, you store the image in your mind instead.

Turning the corner back into the living room, Harper is fast asleep on John’s chest, and her tiny hand is gripping his shirt. His head is tilted to the side, almost on top of hers and his lips are slightly parted as he lets out small snores. You toss a blanket over Benji and he curls up closer to Bleu.

Standing and watching John, you reach over to your purse and pull out your phone. Gotta get a picture of this. You lean in close, snapping a picture and smile when you see how sweet they look. You turn around and take a picture of Benji, who has one arm wrapped around Bleu and know John will get a kick out of it. When you sit on the couch, John opens his eyes and looks over at you.

“Hey.” his voice is quiet and sleepy.

“Hey, you’re fine. Go back to sleep.”

He looks down at Harper and points, “You want her?”

“No, she’s fine. She’s asleep…just keep holding her.” you whisper and he reaches over to touch your leg.

“Come here.” he lifts his arm and places it around your shoulder. Nuzzling into his chest, you lean up and quickly press a few soft kisses to his lips.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” you say as you lightly rub her cheek with your finger.

“She is.” he laughs a little and looks down at you, kissing the top of your head as you close your eyes.

__

“Baby…” you lightly tap John’s shoulder and his eyes flicker open. He sits up straight and looks around when he sees Harper isn’t in his arms anymore. “It’s okay.”

He rubs his eyes with his hands and blinks a few times, “Where is she?”

“Aurelio called, he asked if the kids could stay here for the night, I said yes…I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. Where is she?” he asks again.

“I put her in our bed. She’ll be fine. I certainly can’t carry Benji, so I woke up hoping you could put him in the guest bed.”

John rubs his face and stands up. He looks down at Benji for a few moments, figuring out how to pick him up without waking him up. He lifts the little boy with ease and carries him into the guest bedroom. You watch from the doorway as John places Benji in the bed and tucks him in. John groans and looks at his watch as he sits down next to you on the couch. 2:18 AM.

“Are you sure she’s okay in our bed?” he kicks off his shoes and lays back on the couch, tapping his chest and inviting you to lay on top of him.

“Yes, John. She’ll be fine. Do you want to check on her?”

“No, I believe you.” he yawns and closes his eyes, “Are you comfortable? We can sleep in the other spare room, the bed is smaller, but we practically sleep on top of each other anyway.”

You snuggle in between John and the back of the couch, yawning. “No, I’m fine. I kinda wanna be close to them, just in case.”

“Okay,” John nods and hugs you tight to his chest. Looking up at John, you start to smile when you see how sleepy he is. He smiles and puckers his lips, asking for a kiss. “Love you.”

__

You feel fingers lightly brushing your cheek and you open your eyes to see a pair of legs in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you yawn and stretch as you sit up. John is holding Harper in his arms, her face is red and she’s frowning as big tears fall on her cheeks. She lets out a loud cry and John sits down next to you, exhausted and shaken.

“I have no idea what’s wrong. I just heard her crying, so I went upstairs and she reached out for me. I don’t know what to do, so I woke you up.” his voice is shaky and he tries to hand Harper to you, but she clings to his shirt as she starts crying and buries her face in his chest.

“Well, she doesn’t want me.” you laugh and get up from the couch. John follows right behind, almost stepping on your heels as you walk into the kitchen and sift the bag Amanda had packed. “Oh, good. She packed formula.”

Harper starts to fuss more and John scrunches up his nose, “I think she needs to be changed.”

You look through the bag again and hand John a diaper and some wet wipes, “Here.”

“Oh no, I definitely can’t do that.” he walks closer and tries to peel Harper off his shoulder as she screams.

You can’t help but laugh when you see John so out of his element. Harper is crying loudly and he tries to rock her to calm her down. He looks back up at you as you laugh.

“Help me.” his voice is desperate and it makes you laugh even more.

“Honey, she’s fine. She’s just hungry and needs her diaper changed.”  

He almost whimpers as he tries to hand her to you and she clings to his shirt. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to the bay window in the kitchen and pat the spot next to you. John carefully sets her down and walks back over to the island.

“I can’t do this either.” he says as he points at the formula and bottle.

“You can.” you nod at him, trying to be encouraging.

“Baby, I can’t.”

“Jonathan. Yes, you can. The instructions are on the back. She’s eight months. Look at how much it says to give her, fill the bottle with water, measure out the formula and dump it into the bottle. Shake it to mix it up.” you’re out of breath and the two of you stare at a each other for a moment, and you shake your head and start changing Harper.

He stares at you for a moment longer and when Harper screams, his whole body jolts into action. You change Harper quickly and her screams turn into whimpers and little hiccups. Her bottom lip juts out and you wipe the tears off her face as you kiss her cheek.

You walk back out to the living room and bounce Harper in your arms to soothe her and hear John behind you. When you look over your shoulder, he quickly stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

“Did you just take our picture?” you ask and smirk at him as he walks over. “We weren’t photo ready, Mr. Wick.”

He smiles and quickly hands the bottle to you, “Is this too hot…or too cold? I can make another one.” His hands shake and he runs his fingers through his hair.

You nod to the couch and he sits down, Harper instantly reaches out for John and he sits back a little, taking her in his arms as she drinks her bottle. You sit down next to them and check John’s watch for the time.

“God, it’s 7:20…” you yawn and rub your hands over your face. Looking over at John, you see him staring at Harper as she drinks her bottle. “She really likes you.”

He starts to laugh and looks at you, “I think it’s just because I was the first to get her when she was crying.”

“Oh, please. Look at her.” you look down at Harper, she’s staring at John and he smiles. He starts to lean down to kiss her forehead and he looks over at you. “You can kiss her.”

John leans down and presses his lip lightly to her forehead, then looks back to you. He starts to smile when he sees your hand over your mouth as you smile. “You think it’s cute?”

“Incredibly.” you say and lean over to kiss John. He moves his arms in front of you and almost shoves her in your face. “You want me to kiss her?”

“Yeah.” he nods and you lean down, kissing Harper on the cheek. “See, now that is cute.”

Harper finishes her bottle quickly and John puts her up on his knee, lightly patting her back as you wash her bottle and put everything back in the bag. From the kitchen, you can hear John whispering to her and when you walk back into the living room, they’re both laughing. You sit down next to them and Harper reaches out for you. Her eyes are bright and her cheeks are full of color. A perfectly healthy, happy baby.

“Ya know…you look really good with a baby.” John says and leans back against the couch.

You roll your eyes and laugh, “Jonathan, please.”

“You do.”

“If it happens, it happens.” you remind him.

“I know, but you still look good. It suits you.” he says and gets up when he hears his phone ringing.

Harper is falling asleep in your arms when John comes back out of the kitchen. “Aurelio said he’d be here in a little bit. Should I wake up Benji?”

“Send Bleu in there. I’m sure he’d be happier waking up to a dog licking his face.”

John cracks the door open wider and Bleu jumps on the bed, licking and sniffing Benji. You hear little giggles coming from the room and John appears in the doorway of the kitchen with a breakfast pastry. Benji happily takes it from him and plops down on the floor next to Bleu to watch cartoons.

__

“Hey man, thanks for watching them. We didn’t get out until late. The traffic was terrible.” Aurelio is already apologizing before he gets to the door and John reassures him that everything is fine.

“It was nothing. It was pretty fun actually.” John says as he shakes his hand.

“They were great.” you say as you hand Harper off to him.

“They were? Ah, that’s good to hear. I know they can be a handful.” he presses a kiss to Harper and she giggles.

You catch John watching and smiling, and it almost shocks you when he reaches back out to rub her cheek. When John looks away, Aurelio and you look at each other, a smile spread across your face and he winks at you.

“Daddy!” Benji comes running from the kitchen with Bleu and buries his face in Aurelio’s leg. “I made you a picture.”

“Wow. Should we go home and show mommy?” Aurelio reaches out to shake John’s hand and waves to you, “Thank you again.”

As John closes the door, you hear Benji talking about going to the park and throwing the ball for Bleu. You turn to John, exhaling loudly and realize how quiet the house is when it echoes.

“Well, that was fun. I told you.” he slings his arm around shoulder and you walk to the living room with him.

“It was something, that’s for sure.” you say as you pick up the pillows that have fallen off the couch and quickly change your mind when you get a head rush from bending over. “Eh, fuck it.”

You both yawn at the same time and he nods toward your bedroom. “We’ll clean this up later. Let’s go lay down.”

Even though it’s only around noon, you know you could easily sleep the rest of the day. Your clothes smell like baby food and when you look down at your sweater, you see a clump of yogurt stuck on the sleeve that you didn’t even know was there. You sit on the edge of the bed, too tired to take your clothes off and look over as John walks out of the bathroom in just his boxers.

“What are you doing?” he asks and stands in front of you.

“I’m too tired to even get my clothes off.” you say and feel John tugging at the arms of your sweater and pulling it over your head. You don’t know how, but with one hand and in a matter of seconds, he removes your bra and tosses it into the hamper. You lay back on the bed, closing your eyes and smile. “Thanks, babe.”

John wraps his fingers around the waistband of your leggings and raises his eyebrows, “Can I?”

“Please.” you nod and in one fluid motion, he pulls your leggings off and points to your underwear. “Yeah, those too.”

You sit back up after he’s taken off your underwear and you press a kiss to the splatter of scars on his stomach. “I love your tummy. It’s so soft. God, you’re perfect.”

When you close your eyes, you feel your head spin and the fatigue is getting much worse. You look up at John and see him smiling at you. You tug at the bottom of his boxers until they’re around his knees and he steps out of the them, tossing them in the hamper next to the dresser.

Scooting back on the bed, John crawls on top of you and wraps his arms around you to hug you tight to his chest. Being naked with John isn’t always lustful. Being wrapped in his arms and your skin touching his is comforting and reassuring; you feel safe. You yawn again and he squeezes his eyes shut to fight one himself.

You lazily kiss John’s chest and fall back against his pillow as he moves lower and gently kisses over your breasts. You tilt your head back up and you’re surprised when he isn’t hard – clearly he’s just as tired as you.

“I know I was being dramatic yesterday and I want you so bad. I really do, but…” you yawn again and he laughs.

“I’m tired too. I think they wore me out more than every job I’ve ever taken.” he rolls off of you and wraps his arm around your waist, kissing you, then leaning his forehead against yours. “Tomorrow?”

Snuggling in closer to him, you nod. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

______

taglist:  @keanubot @parksandrecmyass @velociraptir @chippyroh @sanguinecailleach @peachymelon98 @slyther-puff-couple @johnwickjuice @stlrsfn84 

[serenityandstardust]

100 Things

June 13, 2012

I had reconstructive surgery on my knee due to an 100% tear to my ACL.

I don’t know how to ice skate.

I’ve never been skiing — water or ice.

I’ve never been on a cruise.

I have a son, age 6.

My career is in education.

My cat’s name is Arwin — a LOTR character.

I live 5 miles from the ocean.

I lost 80 pounds in the past year.

I’m tired of superhero movies.

I like my steak medium rare.

I love Disney World. I could ride Space Mountain over and over and over.

I collect shot glasses from around the globe — places I’ve been or places my friends have been.

I have a tendency to wear a song out; I play it over and over again.  My 6 year old criticizes me for it.

I love college sports.

I get silly when I get sleepy.

I play with my food when I am full.

I hate professional sports — no heart…they are in it for the money.

I played softball for 8 years; was a prospective catcher for a local university until I tore my knee to shreds.

I played volleyball for 2 years; I had a killer overhand serve.  Aces on that back line.

My first kiss was at my sweet 16 birthday party.  We were a little pressured.  I can’t even remember his name.

On a dare, I drove a car a 100+ mph on a two lane highway with the headlights out on a back country road for five minutes.  

I used to be afraid of guns until I shot a AR-15.

I am a sorority girl.

I prefer a calla lily to a rose.

I have 5 holes in my ears.

I have a dragonfly tattoo on my foot.  The tail wraps up around my ankle bone.

I teach high school kids. They are a blast.  I tried my hand at primary and elementary, and did not enjoy it as much.

I used to sell insurance.  

My favorite color is purple.

I like things that sparkle in sunlight.

I have cooked an entire Thanksgiving dinner successfully without help. For 32, I’d say that isn’t bad.

I’ve lived in a foreign country (Spain, actually) for two years.

I took 5 years of Spanish, including conversational Spanish, and I barely know how to count to a hundred. I can comprehend it though…oddly enough; I can read it and understand it when spoken to me.  

My brother is a “recovering” drug addict. I was caught up in his drama for a long, long time.

I have two nieces and a nephew.

I am the oldest grandchild of 8 on my father’s side.

Don’t let my shyness fool you.  I have a naughty side.

I still sometimes use my fingers to count. This is BAD.

I can’t live in a land-locked state. Once I leave the coast, I start to feel claustrophobic.

I have a natural ability in art. It is nothing I pursued in life, but I dabble with it on the side.

I make homemade silver jewelry. Again, nothing I pursue in life, but I have made a few bucks on some of my crafts.

I wanted a second child, but that time has passed for me. I am happy with my son—he is my world.

I hate spiders. And snakes. Or anything that buzzes around my ear. Just thinking of these these things makes me shiver, literally.

I have been with my husband for 15 years and married for 9.  And I want a divorce.

I absolutely hate mopeds on major highways. The speed limit is 55 or 65. If you can’t hit the speed limit, keep the fucking two wheeled piece of shit off the road.

I love strawberries. Anything strawberry.

I only chew spearmint gum.

I only wear silver or black jewelry.

I wear contacts. And glasses at night. But 99.9% of the time…contacts.

One of my endearing phrases is “You’re a mess.” If I say it to you, it means I like you.

I love the beach, the salt water, the sand, the smell, the sounds.  It’s home.

I am extremely shy until you get to know me, then…you’ll have a hard time shutting me up.

I am very ticklish. Very very ticklish.

I love to learn. For me, it is never ending.

I have nine lives. I’ve almost drowned, I’ve been in a near death car accident, I’ve attempted suicide (a couple of times), I’ve had incurable bone cancer that miraculously healed without medical help.

I love spending time with my son.  I love getting on the floor, down on his level and playing with him, coloring with him, and pretending that I’m six again.

I have premonitions. I have dreams that come true. Some good, some bad, some sad, but they always come true.

I love to listen to music, especially in the car…but when I’m at home, alone…I enjoy the quiet.  I like to hear myself think.

I do not believe in God, but I believe in something. I choose not to give it a name.  I am very spiritual—a free spirit…so to speak.

I’ve been told by many that I have an old soul.

Many debate the color of my hair. Some say brown. Some say auburn.  I suppose it depends if you are looking at me under direct sunlight.

I want to travel. I want to backpack around the country and around the world. I want to take very little with me…just a camera and a journal.

I do NOT have a green thumb. Check my porch for proof.  I mean, I tried. I really did.

I kill with kindness.

I am persistent. Good lord, I’m persistent. Someone once told me that I never stop until I get my way.  I’m thinking this was his way of saying I’m selfish.

I am insecure. I get jealous easily, I have low self-esteem, I doubt myself and others.

I like to sing. I suck horribly at it, but I won’t sing around you.

If the world is going to end, I’ll be standing outside hitching a ride with my towel in hand.

I wish I had my own Narnia closet. What I wouldn’t give to live a thousand lifetimes and come back to be me again and again.

I am a crier. If you are close to me, really close…and I come over…be sure to have a box of tissues.  I cry sad tears, mad tears, happy tears.

I am not skinny or thin.  Though I despise the words fat and obese, I don’t feel that I am neither fat nor obese.  I am me, curves and all.  Women like me were once adored…a long time ago.

I have been known to make the first move, but would prefer the guy to. I still fear rejection.

I love body sprays, but hate perfumes.  I like a light lingering fragrance that I can spritz on anytime…nothing overpowering or choking.

I like spicy food. The older I get, the spicier it has to be.

I hate the way I look. HATE.

I have been published.

I have sold artwork.

I am never sitting down anywhere in my house without a throw blanket wrapped around me. My hands are cold all the time too.

I hate the smell of ketchup.  Just thinking about it makes me cringe.

My go to mixed drinks of choice sre an ameretto sours or a lemon drops.

I’ve never broken a bone in my body. Torn muscles and ligaments, yes…but no bones.

I love to dance, funny as shy as I am, but a little liquid courage helps.

Beatles or Elvis? If I had to pick…Elvis.

I carry a purse with me…in my car, but to fucking tote it in the mall or a restaurant? No.

My hair is naturally wavy.  You wouldn’t know it looking at pictures.

I’m short. 5’2 or 5’3 depending on the time of day you measure me. But hel, when I played volleyball, I was all palms above the net.

I love to read/watch anything science fiction (except the old Star Trek stuff - blame my uncle).

I love read/watch anything horror (blame my dad).

I smoke, probably way too much.

My erotic name … Chloe. (shhh) *she was my first kitten*

I am a ball of nerves.

I have tiny hands, or so I’ve been told.

I hate to see a man hide his butt.  Forget baggy, show me your ass, dammit!  On the other hand, I fall swiftly for the 90s alternative/grunge type. My men. My god…how they drive me crazy.

As much as I share online, there is a lot that I don’t share. The really personal stuff?  I save that for special people.

I love with all of my heart, all of my soul.  I give everything I have.

[thingsaretuffallover-blog]

Preference: You’re Their Best Friend.

Darry:

You help him out a lot. If he’s going to be working late you’ll make sure the boys are all set and you’ll wait for Darry to get home. When he does you sit with him while he has dinner and talk to him. You would do anything to protect each other and you always come over to make sure everything is clean and taken care of but if it’s not you don’t do it yourself. You make all the boys help out.

When Darry got home that night Sodapop had gone off on a date and Ponyboy was doing homework in his room. He sat at the kitchen table and you made him a plate of food before sitting with him. He ate in silence and once he had finished you put something on the table in front of him.

“What the hell is this?” He asked picking up the cash.

“It’s for you. You work hard enough you don’t need to be spending these late nights working too all the time.”

“Take this, Y/N. I don’t want your money.”

“Well I don’t have anything I need it for right now okay? Don’t be so stubborn, Darry, and please just.. Just take it.”

He side and held it tightly in his fist. “You’re a good friend, you know?”

“I know.” You smiled and he kissed your head on the way to put his plate in the sink.

Sodapop: You two as best friends cuddle all the times and even hold hands as long as you both are single. You really are just friends and have absolutely no interest in each other but you are both someone who loves a good hug and you don’t mind giving it to each other if you need it. It drives you nuts when the boys tease you.

The gang all came over to watch some movie special on TV that night and you sat on the couch with your best friend Sodapop. Your legs were over his lap and your head was on his shoulder while his arms wrapped around his waist. During a commercial break Two-Bit looked over and whistled with a grin

“You two get hitched yet or what?” The others laughed and Sodapop raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hey this is more action than you’ve had in months, buddy, so I’d watch it.” He joked. The movie came back on and you two looked at each other, rolling your eyes fondly before your head went back onto his shoulder. You both sighed happily despite the guys relentless teasing throughout the night.

Ponyboy: You really don’t like hanging around Ponyboy when he’s with the gang. You don’t hate them or anything but you think Ponyboy’s different when he’s with them so you’d rather hang out by yourself. But you make it a point to go to every one of his track meets and you always shock the others with how loud your usually pretty quiet self cheers.

You sat among Ponyboy’s brothers and friends while you waiting for his turn to run. You were mostly silent- only sharing a few words with Johnny when he asked you something and thanking Sodapop when he bought you a Coke. You were eagerly waiting for the match to start and when it did and you saw Ponyboy immediately speeding ahead you jumped up with a few of the guys. You cheer is name loudly and scream in excitement when he has the shortest time. All the others stare at you but you don’t care. After the match is over you wait around with them for Ponyboy and when he comes out you run into his arms.

“You did so great!” you squealed.

“Thank you,” he said and hugged you tightly. “I could hear you from the stands.” he laughed.

You pulled away and grinned proudly at him. “I probably won’t have a voice tomorrow because of it but it was worth it. Now let’s go celebrate.”

Ponyboy nodded and went to say hi to the other guys, Darry lifted him up in the air and the all shouted his name. You simply rolled your eyes fondly and followed your best friend.

Two-Bit: You two balance each other out perfectly. You’re usually pretty serious but Two-Bit gets you to lighten up and have fun and you get him to rein himself in (usually). You’re dynamic works out really well. One night when you two were drunk you made a deal that if you’re not married by the time your thirty then you’ll marry each other but you don’t really have any interest in dating him currently and neither does he.

“Shorty, you’re wild.” Two-Bit laughed. The two of you were sitting in the bed of his truck sharing beers at the drive-in but you weren’t watching the movie. You had been drinking from pretty early on so the two of you were just laughing loudly at each other and having a great time. When you drank your filter tended to disappear and you said whatever came to mind. He was laughing at your latest idea.

“I’m serious,” You whined jokingly “Let’s get married.”

Two-Bit shook his head and took a long sip. “You are insane, Y/N. You know I love you but it ain’t that much.”

“I don’t mean now, stupid.” You laughed and scooted over to him so you could lean against him and support your weight as your head was starting to feel a bit dizzy. “I mean like in the future. If we’re both.. I dunno thirty and still single. I think we could make it work if we had to.”

“Fine,” he laughed. “If we’re both thirty and still single I will marry you. Now you better quit drinking, shorty, because if I’m driving you home later and you puke in my car there’ll be hell to pay.” 

—

The next day you don’t expect Two-Bit to have remembered your conversation until he hands you a safety pin the a beer bottle cap attached to it.

“What’s this?” You asked him.

“It’s like an engagement ring, fiancé.” He grinned. “We gotta wear something to show our possible marriage don’t we?”

“Yea I guess.” You laughed and pinned it on your jacket. You smiled at him. “Thanks, fiancé.”

Dally: (slight swearing in this one) You are able to tell when something is bothering Dally extremely well and you’re always the one to sit him down and not let him leave until he’s at least said what the issue is before he does something stupid. Dally always liked having you around because you tell it like it is and you don’t run from a fight.

“You know I hate that broad,” Dally said as he sipped his beer. You were both sitting on the steps at Buck’s. You had brought out some drinks for you two to share so you could get Dally to talk. “That two timing girl. Man, I can’t believe she-“ he swore a few times at his ex-girlfriend Sylvia before taking a long sip so you spoke.

“I tell you every time, Dall, don’t go back to her. And you always do. You can’t complain if you keep falling for it.”

“Shut up,” he said “I just can’t believe it, you know? I feel like a real dumb ass. A real piece of shit-“

You cut him off immediately. “I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.”

He looked over to you. “Yea?”

“Yea. But you are a dumb ass.” You smiled and he smiled too.

Steve: One day in middle school during recess when Sodapop was absent Steve taught you how to fight in return for you helping him pick up girls and a friendship was made. It was a pretty good combination though sometimes you two would but heads pretty bad and go for days without talking. You would inevitably bump into each other by accident- or by set up from the gang sick of Steve moping around without you- and you would just start talking as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t that you two would stay mad at each other for that long, you’d get over it in a day but you were both to proud to apologize. Even with disagreements you loved each other and you know you’d protect each other at all costs.

“Hey..” You murmured awkwardly as Steve pulled up beside you walking on the side of the road. He was always your ride home from school but you two had an argument a few days prior and so you’d been walking home instead.

“You need a ride, girly?” he asked and you smiled slightly at the use of your nickname but you hesitated. “Come on it ain’t safe out here, you know I don’t like you walking all by your lonesome.”

“Fine.” You reply as you get into the passenger seat.

“Coke?” He asks holding up a bottle and you take it. He looks at you with a smile and you smile back and you know everything is okay again.

Johnny: You two have been friends since you were little kids, you were a year younger than him but you were still close. You knew about Johnny’s home life and he knew about yours and somehow when you two hung out a weight was lifted off both of your shoulders before you even speak. You knew each other just as well as you knew yourself and you would often do something for each other before the other even has to ask. You finish each others sentences sometimes (literally) and then you’ll laugh about it for hours.

You met up with Johnny during lunch. You two liked to sit on the back steps so that he could smoke. You had been absent for a couple days and you were really missing your best friend so you hoped he didn’t bring Steve, or Two-Bit or Ponyboy along. You liked them a lot but you wanted to talk to Johnny alone. When you saw him you ran up to him and hugged him tightly, you could tell he missed you. The two of you sat on the steps facing each other- backs against the railings. You were silent for a bit while he smoked and ate half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you brought him. You took a little longer with yours because you liked to pick the crust off. You always share chips and a soda with him too.

“You ever wanted to runaway?” You say after a little while. “To some place you’ve never been before.”

“I haven’t been anywhere before. This town is it.” he replied.

“I know. But it’s an exciting thought.” Johnny nodded in response and you continued. “I think I know where I’d go. I have a pretty good plan in mind but I’d never run away without you.”

Johnny looked up at you. He knew you wouldn’t ever actually go period but the two of you always said stuff like this. ‘What if’s’. What if you two ran away? What if you two had good parents. “No sense thinking about what you can’t change. It’s better to think about what you have.” he said.

“I have you.” you smiled.

“You have me. Now come on, I’ll buy you a candy bar.” He said and stood up. You grinned loving how Johnny knew just what to say to make you feel slightly better, even just for a minute with something as simple as a candy bar.