#anyway I’ll get the week I owe up soon (maybe)

[likethevalley]

Yeehawgust Day 8 - Prancing in the Moonlight

Oh to be a Mojave sidewinder and find love under the desert moon

[sleep-0-deprived]

Hi, I hope you are having a good week and please take care of yourself, I don't want you to get sick. Please don't mind me I'm just obsessed with your writings and this is my first request so if I do something wrong please ignore it.

Can you write teacher Kunikida and bottom! student male reader smut? The reader is quite a troublemaker and Kunikida decides to give him a punishment.

Like I said, if there is a problem, please ignore it. Have a nice day and thank you💜

Detention~

Math teacher Kunikida x male student reader

Mdni female aligned dni this is an 18+ blog with nsfw content below the cut

A/N Sorry this took to long I have a full inbox currently but I am trying to push more fics out soon and I really hope I did your imagination justice and the reader is eighteen obviously anyway I hope you enjoy!

“Now, do you have any clue why you’re here this time?” Kunikida asks out looking over at you with a stern expression as he pushes his glasses back up watching your movements closely as you sit at a desk in the front office for your detention. “Obviously I do, I mean I’m sitting in detention for a reason dummy” rolling your eyes looking at your math teacher crossing your arms.

“you’re a damn brat aren’t you?” Kunikida asks with an annoyed look on his face as he glares at you walking over bending down to your height.

“Brats get punishments don’t they?” He says sternly “yeah but I’m not a damn brat” you huff out rolling your eyes before you can say another word his hand grips your shoulder pulling you from your desk as he drags you over to his teacher desk sitting in the office chair as he bends you over his knee “I think someone needs to be disciplined?”

He mutters as he pulls your pants down pulling your boxers down to your ankles “h hey what are you doing Mr doppo?” You ask all flushed and oddly turned on despite the taboo nature you were eighteen and you did have a crush on this teacher for a while but in a you didn’t think anything would happen sort of way.

“I said you needed to be disciplined, and clearly no other methods are working are they?” He grunts out as he raises his hand high delivering a harsh slap to your left cheek leaving your s/c skin red with his hand print left in the wake “o ow sir!” You yelp out jumping slightly as you lay bent over his knee bitting your bottom lip hissing at the sensation but also enjoying it as your cock twitches between your thighs.

“is something wrong?” Mr Doppo asks in his same stern voice as he uses his hand to pinch and rub the cheek he just slapped as he reaches his hand down between your legs stroking the cock between your legs as it pulses in his hand making you shudder arching bent over his knee “s sir~”

managing to muffle out a word with your breath heavy all flushed as your tip leaks pre cum down your shaft as his thumb glides over your tip smearing it around as he strokes you hard before pulling his hand off before you can even climax “why should I let you reach your climax? Clearly you haven’t been a good boy have you? That’s why I’m punishing you” Mr doppo speaks out as his hand traces up your thighs massaging your ass cheeks with you bent over in his lap.

Your eyes wide and your lips pressed down into a pout as you get spanked “I-m sorry sir~!” You gasp out not meaning it just wanting to get off hopping your words please him as you squirm raising your ass up more as he slaps your other cheek making you yelp.

“I’m not stupid, boy” Mr doppo says as he holds your ass cheek firmly before slapping it when it gets all red and sensitive making you moan a small gasp raising you ass up more as your cock leaks on his slacks while you try to rut your hips against the older males thigh only to get spanked harder.

“O ow sir!” Letting out a whine as tears well up in your eyes making you nearly cum at the same time, sensing this Kunikida stopped spanking you for a split second “if you can be good for me maybe I’ll let you cum but only if you act good, understood boy?” He asks as he shoves two fingers prodding your red cheeks apart spitting on your rim.

“I’ll be good sir~!” You Whine out as your rim puckers from the cold exposure as you lay bent over the math teachers knee as his fingers press agaisnt pushing them both in stretching you “I hope you mean that boy” he grunts as he pushes both his fingers inside you as your walls tremble around him while you squirm adjusting to the feeling before he starts moving thin inside your ass.

“Mhm sir~” your head falling forward as you lay in his lap feeling his fingers rubbing right on your prostate curling as he pinches your ass cheek harshly with his free hand before his fingers move faster stretching your rim around his finger as they hit your deepest parts.

“Your tight aren’t you? Don’t tell me such a bad boy as yourself is a virgin is he?” Mr doppo coos teasing you as he curls his fingers putting pressure right on your prostate before you can speak as you lay bent over his knee in your detention gasping with your face all flushed humiliated at the truth in his words.

“N-no mhm not~” lying out as you gasp with your pre cum dripping onto the school tile floor making it shine slick as his fingers move harder making you on edge about to cum “now I don’t believe those words, your face is so flushed boy” Mr doppo hums pulling his fingers out of your hole leaving you on edge as you let out a frustrated whine.

“Hey! You said you’d let me cum sir?” You croak out as you lay exposed all hard with your hole stretched as it puckers around nothing “did I? Hm? I don’t remember saying that but if you wanna cum your gonna cum around me boy” he grunts picking you up and sitting you face down ass up across his desk making his papers flutter across the room falling on the floor.

“Hurry up Mr doppo I needa cum!” Begging out to your math teacher as the sound of shuffling fills the room when he undoes his belt buckle pulling his slacks down holding your hips as he pulls his cock free from his boxers stroking it, he was clean cut eight inches hard and clean shaven with a small patch of blond pines around his shaft as his tip leaked precut all puffy and pink as he positions himself against your ass running his leaking tip right against your prepped hole smearing his pre cum around on you.

“Use your manners, good boys say please don’t they?” Teasing your hole with his tip not pushing in yet waiting for you to beg before he does so “please sir I really needa cum I wanna feel you in me so bad!~” begging out raising your ass up more as he finally holds your hips thrusting in quickly making you hiss in pain.

“shh your doing good it’ll only hurt for a minute boy” his facade shifting when he sees your uncomfortable and adjusting to taking him, rubbing your sore ass cheek whispering out praises as his other hand rubs circles on your hips “you can m-ove sir~” whining out quietly as you hold onto the corner of his desk arching your back like a cat as he slowly thrusts forward holding your hip as his groin presses to your red ass cheeks.

“Mhm just like that, how does this feel?” Leaning down pinning you down harder on the desk using one hand pressing the arch of your back harshly holding you down on the desk as he starts to thrust snapping his hips with enough force to make you jerk forward while gasping “good sir! O oh~” moaning out placing one hand over your mouth not wanting any of the teachers or students hearing you getting fucked by your math teacher as his tip ruts right against your prostate making your eyes gloss over and your lips pouting and whining.

“Such a good boy” groaning as he holds your hips still staring to fuck you harder as he reaches his hand out from the arch of your back finding its way into your hair pulling it as he holds your head back grunting and bitting against the back of your neck as he pistons his cock into you making your walls clamp tight sucking him back in as your cock leaks pre cum on his desk showing how close you were as the desk beneath you creaks and the front office fills with the sound of skin slapping.

“A ah sir! H hm more I’m close~!” Begging shamelessly as you try to muffle your words with your hand blushing as your eyes roll back drooling on yourself as it runs down your chin making you whine as your ass cheeks get slapped by his hips as he rams right against your prostate making your rim stretch wide around him taking every inch of him as his hand holds your hair tight and the other gripping your hip with a grunt.

“Cum for me boy show me how good you feel” muffling out his words as Mr Doppo kisses your neck sucking on it as he ruts his hips into you making your body twitch and spasm as your cock pulses throbbing hard shooting white liquid ropes all over your math teachers desk making the ink on his papers smear but he doesn’t care about that right now as he keeps ducking you harder groaning chasing his own high.

“A ah!~ f fwuah~!” Crying out as you gasp twitching in your after glow as you get fucked through your orgasm “fuck!” Grunting as he pulls out of you cumming all over your red ass cheeks letting rough gasps out as his lips vibrate against the back or your neck his hips stuttering as he lets go of your hair holding onto you tightly as his body weight holds you under your math teacher with your knuckles trembling your hand letting go of his desk.

“You did so good for me boy” whispering in your ear panting as Mr Doppo uses one hand to hold your chin biting on your bottom lip with a growl as he kisses you all sloppy with your drool mixing with his as you come down from your high.

[talktonytome]

Buck’s nervously bouncing his leg on the barstool, hands a little sweaty, as he waits for Hen and Karen to show up. They had invited him to a gay western club, after he came out and he’s excited to finally be here. He’s craning his neck to see if he catches a glimpse of them, when a beast of a man walks up to him.

Wow, Buck knows he’s a big guy himself but this dude is even bigger than him. He’s got insanely broad shoulders, big arms, thick thighs and an ass that had to be sculpted by the gods-

Suddenly, the man is clearing his throat to get his attention. “Excuse me, but I think you took my chair,” he says matter-of-factly, like Buck should have known. And it’s maybe a little infuriating because who does this guy think he is?

“Oh I’m sorry, I must have missed your name on it,” Buck retorts, eyes narrowed at the stranger. The chair was open when he got there and really, it’s a little childish to be calling dibs.

Hot jerk holds his hands up placatingly, attempting to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, sorry”, he says genuinely enough. There’s something about his eyes that comforts Buck. “It’s just, I only ran out to take what I thought was a work call, and I was hoping my spot would still be free. It’s been a long week,” he sighs.

Buck can understand that. It’d been a long week of hectic calls for the 118 and he’s been looking forward to tonight. “Hey, uh, I get it. It’s been a week for me too,” he offers a rueful smile. “I’m meeting some friends so I’ll give you your chair back soon, don’t worry.” If he didn’t know any better, he could swear the man’s face falls a little.

As if by stroke of luck, the stool next to his opens up and hot guy immediately sits down. “It’s my fault really, I know this place is packed Friday nights. It’s worth it for the live bands, though,” he says. “I’m Tommy, by the way. Fighting the great chair war merits name privileges, right?” He winks.

Buck blushes, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “Oh definitely,” he manages not to stutter. “I’m Bu- um- Evan Buckley.” Wow he almost had it.

“Evan,” Tommy tries out and it sounds like the name was made to be uttered by him and him only. Buck gulps.

“Well, since we’re both here, how about I buy you a drink? I owe you that much for being rude earlier.”

Buck can’t help but smile. “Sure, why not?” He nods, “my friends aren’t here yet, anyway.”

“Great,” Tommy grins. “Craft beer okay? Or I can get you something else?”

“Beer’s fine, I’m not picky,” Buck shrugs.

“I am, at least when it comes to beer,” Tommy chuckles, signaling the bartender for two beers.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buck teases. Why does this feel so easy?

“Hmm, I think there’s a lot about me that’ll surprise you,” Tommy smirks.

Buck may be inexperienced with the same sex, but he damn well knows how to flirt. He tilts his head a little, knows his eyes are twinkling. “Is that right?”

“Oh absolutely,” Tommy declares. He’s so confident in a way that radiates coolness. “For example, I’m a pretty great dancer.”

Buck thinks back to the times he’s tried to dance and winces. “I’m definitely not.”

“I could teach you,” Tommy says as Buck finishes his sentence.

“Really? Is that gonna be right after our beers?”

“I mean I don’t think we can drink and dance at the same time,” Tommy laughs, “at least not effectively.

“Yeah okay, teach me, Tommy.” Buck says dropping his voice, looking right into his eyes.

Tommy’s eyes grow wide and Buck immediately notices the blush on those gorgeous cheekbones. He preens a little because he did that.

“Ok,” Tommy swallows, holding out his hand. “Let’s do it.”

“What about our beers?”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

Buck laughs incredulously, but gives Tommy his hand and lets him lead them onto the dance floor. The band’s playing something sweet and slow, for lovers. Tommy uses the grip on his hand to pull them close together, until they’re chest to chest. He guides both of Buck’s arms around his neck and he circles Buck’s waist with those big hands, finally turning them into a gentle sway.

You got me out there, honey

We danced until I let go

Never been lost in a moment

But there's hours I can't recall

Buck looks down at his feet trying desperately not to mangle Tommy’s. He feels two fingers under his chin, as Tommy tilts his face up. “Eyes on me,” he says softly. “I got you.” Buck obeys and gets lost in Tommy’s eyes- gosh they’re so blue-as they sway and spin so smoothly he forgets about his feet altogether.

Maybe tonight

You'll let me run

Into your arms

And we'll conquer the heart

Tommy’s guiding them into another spin, when Buck can’t hold back from wanting to kiss him any longer. If Tommy’s eyes constantly flicking down to Buck’s lips are anything to go by, he’s on the same page. Buck tests the waters by leaning in, enough that Tommy’s breath ghosts across his lips.

You came in like a fire

Burned all I ever knew

I've been weighed and found wanting

And all that I want is you

Tommy gently grips his chin again, one big thumb slots right in the middle, and brings him in for the gentlest, most tender kiss Buck’s ever gotten. Tommy’s lips are warm and soft as they slide against his. It’s not long, by any means, but when they part, it leaves him breathless, all the same.

Tommy rests their foreheads together. “Was that okay?” He whispers, a little awestruck.

“More than,” Buck grins, playing with the hair on the nape of Tommy’s neck.

“Good,” Tommy replies, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bicep. “I do have a confession to make.”

Tommy tangles their hands and pulls Buck away from the dance floor. The song is over by now, so they make their way to the edge, where they can lean against a railing.

Bucks stomach drops. Did he get it wrong? Was Tommy not interested? Was he about to let him down gently?

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Tommy cuts into his spiraling. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“I’m a little embarrassed to say it now,” Tommy breathes, “but.. that wasn’t my chair.”

Buck finally lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Huh?”

“Erm, where you were sitting? It wasn’t actually my chair. I just… I saw the most beautiful man I’d ever seen all alone and I knew I had to talk to him,” Tommy rushes out. “Upon reflection, my approach could have been better,” he mutters.

Bucks laughs, but makes sure to squeeze Tommy’s hand in reassurance. “It was… not good,” he laughs again.

“Come on, hey!” Tommy exclaims in mock offense.

“But- you did it anyway. You came up to me all cocky and hot, not knowing the outcome, and it worked out so,” Buck shrugs.

“You think I’m hot?” Tommy smirks, playfully bumping his shoulder.

“Oh like you don’t know?”

“Did I mention you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen?” Tommy looks at him in a way that’s too fond for having just met.

“Maybe, but doesn’t hurt to hear again,” Buck grins. “Thanks for the dance, by the way,” he adds shyly. “It was pretty great.”

“I had the best partner,” Tommy says.

They look at each other for several beats.

“So, you wanna get out of here?” Tommy jerks his head toward the exit.

Buck doesn’t know if he’s ready for what that sentence entails, but he really likes Tommy.

Just like before, Tommy notices his apprehension; he’s so goddamn considerate like that, apparently. “Not like that,” he clarifies. “I’m having such a great time with you and I’m not ready for the night to end. I know this place with the best tacos,” he gives Buck his best puppy eyes.

Buck breathes a sigh of relief. He’s not ready to part ways either. “You had me at tacos! Lead the way.”

Tommy wraps an arm around his waist as they start walking toward the exit, when Buck remembers, “oh wait, my friends!”

“You sure they’re coming?” Tommy raises a doubtful eyebrow.

“I dunno, they said they would. Let me-“ Buck pulls out his phone and opens his messages. Sure enough there’s a couple from Hen.

Sorry buckaroo, Denny has a stomach bug and we’re pretty sure we all have it now :(

We’ll make it up to you, we swear!

Buck can’t feel too disappointed, when he got Tommy out of it. He texts back a quick ok feel better! and slides his phone back into his pocket, then reaches out to take Tommy’s hand again.

“Their kid has a bug and infected them so they are, in fact, not coming,” he explains.

“Kids and their germs,” Tommy laughs. “So you’re free to go?”

“Yes, I- I am free.”

- inspired by the chair (george strait) and conquer the heart (orville peck)

[jenomov]

tape 001. (l.jn + 00z line)

wc: 1.9k

“c’mon man, it’s my turn to choose the movie, it was your turn last week!” haechan groaned, slightly pushing jaemin.

“fine, but we’ll use renjun’s laptop this time, since a certain someone broke mine last week.” he turns back to haechan, rolling his eyes. “hey fuck you dude, i told you it was an accident alread-“

“no way! i have an essay coming up, i’m using it as soon as i finish this.” renjun yelled, from the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. “use jeno’s or something, he’s not here anyway.”

“are you crazy?” jaemin yelled back. “there’s private stuff on there!! and he only shares his laptop with his girlfriend.”

“so what?” haechan laughed. “he probably privates all his stuff anyway, you know how he is. plus, he has a bunch of movies in a file he keeps for us” — he gets up, fixes his hair before going into jeno’s room. “so i’ll go get it.”

a few minutes after looking for the device, haechan comes back to the living room, sitting between jaemin and renjun, opening the laptop. groaning, he’s met with a lockscreen, asking for a password.

“see, i told you we should’ve used renjun’s laptop, jeno’s too private man, i can’t even get in myself.” jaemin sighs, facing haechan. “where’s your laptop anyway?” he questions.

“mark has it, and he won’t be back until tomorrow.” he says typing on the keyboard, thinking of the right password.

“dude stop trying shit, you’ll lock his laptop forever.” renjun grabs his arm, already annoyed. “let’s just use the tv.”

“hold on man, there’s a hint here”

⃣[who’s my best friend?]

“oh yeah, that’s easy, it’s obviously me!” jaemin laughed.

however, the three boys were all met with a “try again” sentence. confused, they tried you, renjun, haechan, and well, most of the members, all answers being wrong, until “mark” somehow unlocked the laptop, making them stare at the homescreen picture being you and jeno on some sort of vacation.

“what the fuck?” haechan and jaemin yelled at the same time. they looked at each other for a few seconds, feeling betrayed.

“well! guess i’ll need to talk to mark when he comes back to see who his REAL best friend is!” haechan faked wiping a tear off his face, while looking for jeno’s pirated movie file. “i’m pretty sure it would’ve been too easy if he chose jaemin man.” renjun added. “dude, jeno’s not scared of getting caught having all those downloaded movies?” renjun asked, “there’s a shit load of pirated clips in there…” he continues.

minutes pass by and the silence in the living room is sometimes broken by “no not that” and “we’ve already watched this”. even added by a “we can’t watch horror movies because renjun is scared of those”—

“hey fuck you man, atleast i’m not a psycho and watch murder stories videos all night like you jaemin” he scoffs.

“whatever fuckass let’s just do something else— “hey guys?” haechan speaks up, making the bickering between the other two stop. “i think we’ve found our movie for tonight.”

“jeno’s into weird movies? there’s no title— ouu it’s probably something dark- ow!” jaemin laughs out loud while renjun hits him in the arm.

haechan clicks on the video, curiosity getting the best of him.

“woah what are you doing?” renjun stops him, panic taking over. “what? he probably just forgot to put the title on it, it’s probably just a regular movie, like spider-man or some shit.”

renjun sits back down, pushing his two toned hair back, nervous. “alright. besides, maybe it’s a movie we haven’t watched yet, i’m sick of you guys watching scary movies.”

“okay jun, just press play, we wanna see what’s that about.” jaemin retorts.

the beginning of the video shows nothing weird of any sort, just a dimly lit room and a bed— that kind of looks like jeno’s. without paying any mind to the details, they keep watching.

“shit, i’ll be back, my phone’s ringing.” renjun gets up to the bathroom, excusing himself.

the video continues normally, the dead silence of the room gets cut off by giggles and heavy sighs, which made the boys question their choice of movie.

“dude is that fucking porn? i don’t wanna watch that shit.” jaemin takes the laptop in his hands, ready to press the back arrow when he suddenly stops his movements.

“what?” confused, haechan looks closely at the screen, face changing from confusion to shock. “wait, is that-“ he adds “uh… yeah, i think so” jaemin places the computer back on the small table, paying more attention to the clip they found just a minute ago.

you’re barely noticeable, the camera shows you laying on the bed, wrists tied up and gagged, drool dripping around the plastic ball. your legs are spread at your maximum; showing your used and bruised ass to the lens, black tape covering your cunt, making your asshole the only thing on display. the only sound they could hear was your whining and moaning. jaemin and haechan stare at your trembling figure, unable to keep their eyes away.

“i’m sorry baby, but bad girls don’t deserve to be properly fucked don’t they” they could hear jeno talk behind the camera, voice low and far from his usual tone. “seeing you flirt with my friends, i cant let that happen now can’t i?” you shook your head, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. he gets closer to you, angling the camera to get a closer look at your hole. you whine as you feel his index and middle fingers on your taped cunt, eyes begging for him to fuck you.

“hey sorry that took so long it was important — what the fuck are you guys watching??” renjun interrupts, looking at the screen.

“just—just sit down man.” haechan mutters. “i can’t let you horny fucks watch some por-“

“woah.” he stops.

renjun feels guilty for watching, but he’s fixed on the way your body is trembling in excitement, by the way your pretty face is covered in spit and dried tears, or by the way you’re whining softly, eyes fixed on jeno, being so obedient, despite the obscene scene the tape is showing him.

he’s never imagined or thought of you this way, but when he feels his pants tightening, he had to watch more.

they want to see you vulnerable.

jeno holds the back of your thighs, making you stop wriggling underneath him. “now won’t you be a good girl and take what i give you?” you nod frantically, body shaking. “good girl.” he gives you a kiss on your nose, then lines himself up to your rim.

your muffled moans and cries are the only thing heard in the room. the three boys are mesmerized by your expressions, haechan’s slowly pulling his underwear down as he strokes his own cock. “this is wrong, we—can you please put your dick away?” jaemin asks. “if he knows we’ve watched this it’s over.” he continues, facing the urge to join haechan in his pleasuring session.

you get dizzy as you feel jeno filling you up so nicely, never getting used to how big he is. you look at him with half opened eyes, tears slowly falling down your eyes, wrists hurting from the restraints.

“man, look at how well she takes his dick.” haechan confesses, his hand stroking his tip, groaning at the sight of you being ruined.

jeno grabs your ass, making him reach deeper inside you, each rough thrusts make you beg, trying to reach for his arms despite your restraints. your head falls back on the pillows, feeling yourself losing it more and more. he taps your cheek a few times before removing the ball from your mouth, strings of saliva connected from your lips to the plastic. “what a messy baby, am i making you feel good?” he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the boys groan at your fucked up state, they have never heard a better sound other than your moans and begging.

“u-uh huh… more… pleasepleaseplease.” you mumble. you feel him everywhere. his weight on you, his hands on your thighs, forcing your legs open, his stare, his cock splitting your ass open. you feel like passing out. “more?” he scoffs. “me fucking your tight little ass isn’t enough? you’re just a greedy whore, always want to be stuffed full of cock is that it?” you nod over and over again, making him chuckle. you feel out of it, eyes rolling to the back of your head. you want more, you’re desperate for a release, but you know jeno won’t give you what you want so easily, besides, you broke his rules, right?

the boys wondered how it would feel to be inside you, it’s not like they haven’t thought of it, maybe except renjun, who was always so respectful of you and your relationship. at the back of his head, he still felt bad for watching, but today, his perspective of you changed, you were nothing but a filthy slut, who’d give any of her holes, just for the sake of pleasure.

you gasp when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach, lightheaded from the previous actions of your boyfriend. “ass up.” is all he says as you obey, though struggling to keep your knees still, your legs shaking.

you feel jeno’s tip kiss your rim, as an indication that you’re not quite done being used yet. he positions the camera closer to your entrance as he slowly gets fully inside you, making you both sigh.

haechan is a mess, he’s getting closer to his release, while renjun tries to look away from the screen, forcing himself up to get water, he sighs uncomfortably at his tight shorts.

jaemin on the other hand, is so focused on you that he cums in his hand without realizing it.

“i have a big load for you angel, you’re gonna take all i give you right?” his thrusts get sloppier, he whines more and more feeling your tight hole milking him. “inside please.” is all that was needed before you feel his warm load inside your ass, crying into the pillow at the sensation.

the three boys groan at the sight of your abused hole, tape peeling off of your cunt, legs giving up making you almost fall before jeno picks your legs up, taking the camera to show your leaking hole. tsk.

“what an ungrateful little slut.” the name makes you look back at him, tears falling on your swollen face, “i’m sorry sir—” your fingers scoops the cum off your hole, bringing them to your mouth before releasing them with a slight ‘pop’. “is that better?” he slaps your ass making you yelp.

“good girl.”

“you’re gross haech, better hurry up before they come back and see your pervert ass on his computer.” renjun tells him, watching haechan run off to the bathroom, jeans barely on his legs.

jaemin wakes up from his daydream to his sticky hand, shaking his head before quickly pulling his pants off and head to his dorm.

renjun stares at the wall, feeling more guilty than ever, with a raging boner that he has yet to touch, when suddenly the door unlocks.

“shit.”

a/n: dialogue is so hard wtf…. part 2?

© jenomov do not repost/translate

[ladyelissarose]

———————— ☠️

Maybe it was it’s silkiness that had you intrigued, or the innocence it held amongst the darkness and death that has you reaching for it as if it were gold.

“Come on.. its o- OW! oof!!”

“What the hell are you doing Sergeant!?”

Now held up- off your toes by the collar of your bulletproof vest, your Lieutenant Simon ‘the-fucking Ghost’ Riley is holding onto it with both hands as his eyes scan your face with disapproval.

One hand of yours was on his wrist, while the other cradled your head, for you bumped it hard when he had picked you up from under the tank.

But your head was still sharp enough to hear the million questions in his head, so you cleared your throat while you pointed towards the tank,

“I saw a-“

“Why were you under the tank Sergeant?

Someone could’a run your arse over- if not fuck it for the damn position you were in.”

Ok maybe his bluntness could be tuned down but yeah he was right anyways.

Of course, as you were reaching for your found treasure, your ass was in the air while you were on your knees, bent down trying to get a hold of what had caught your eye under the tank.

Embarrassment washed over you as the vision of you in the position came clear, but it dissipated quickly as you pointed back at the truck, eyes not leaving Ghost’s as he still held you up and at his face,

“Lieutenant-“

“What was so important- you realize your stuff should’ve been in the heli by now because we’re leaving?”

Yes you knew that- and jokes on him it was already packed up in the heli right next to Soap’s bag on top of Price’s because you never liked yours on the floor of the heli.

Anyways, that’s why you were spending your last few spare minutes lurking around the base outside. And while skipping around you heard the softest squeak, which halted your moves and got you looking for the next sound like a crazy woman.

Your poor Lieutenant was still scolding your ear off and a few times here and there you were looking in his eyes trying to look attentive, but your ears were still catching the sound that had you curious at first.

Eyes looking back at the tank as you vividly imagined what you could do to get your prize once your Lieutenant let you go, had Ghost growing irritated at your visible ignorance, hence he started shaking you as he finally had had it with you,

“Ok that’s it Sergeant! You’re not paying attention and acting like a child! Get in the heli now!”

Your jaw dropped and your puppy eyes came out, you knew it was useless to argue with your superior, but you’d hope he’d show mercy at your saddened state.

But the damn Ghost didn’t budge.

Placing you back on your feet and like a disappointed father he pointed towards the heli with a hand on his hip,

“If your not in that thing by the time I count to five, you’re not going on a mission with Soap for 3 weeks and you can’t Uber pizza to base for a whole month-“

“What-“

“Don’t make each punishment triple. Now go Sergeant- and sit where you know I’ll sit. Don’t move... or else.”

Your bottom lip jutted out in defeat, heart sinking as you no longer could get what you wanted. Like a child after getting scolded by your father- ‘Ghost’, you walked towards the heli with your head hung low.

Walking by and away from the tank was the toughest thing to do, but soon you made it in the heli, and sat where Ghost told you so. You’d have to have some steel ass balls to disobey his stern orders and do otherwise, but because you were you and no matter how it hurt, you listened.

Sitting by his favorite seat, you kicked your feet as you waited patiently for him to arrive. Soon you heard his thudding footsteps coming your way, not needing to look up because by now you’ve learned he sound of every single one of the 141’s unique footsteps.. and Lieutenant Riley’s was always light but had a soft ‘thud’ to it.. no matter how big and heavy he was, he walked like a confident deer, unseen or barely heard.

Your eyes were locked on your hands, playing with the fingers on your gloves that Price had gifted you, after you lost them while fishing. But soon a light but heavy plush plopped onto your hands.

“Meowww.”

“Awe!-“

“That’s for listening you bloody twat.”

Cold as ever despite doing the softest act by bringing you your prize, Ghost sat by you with a huff as he warned you supposedly threateningly,

“You do as much as touch me one bit, I swear I’ll geet-“

“It’s yeet-“

“Shut up Sergeant I’ll still toss his furry ass out-“

“But it’s a baby-“

“I warned you, now let me sleep. Oh and that thing stays in my office at base. You can come see it whenever but it stays there or around me when I’m out.”

You giggled and awed like an idiot in love yet you replied,

“Yes sir- and ah thank you Lieutenant!”

“Not a peep either-“

“Meowww..”

You shut your lip and squealed quietly as you cuddled your prize closer to your face, the kitten.

It was so soft and cuddly, white but covered in gray patches. It even reminded you of Ghost, it was perhaps all scratches and hisses.. but actually the softest, sweetest thing ever.

It purred in your hands as you cradled it close, and that made you the happiest soldier ever, how it found peace in one of the most broken people in the world.

How your Lieutenant knew about your fascination of the kitten under the tank was beyond you, and how his big scary self got it- but that’s why you loved the Ghost.

P.S. - Ghost wanted the kitten in his office because he found some sort of solace in it, like peace? And it reminded him of you, the way it found peace in him from the second he picked it up.

Plus he liked having you around too, for your presence helped him out in ways you didn’t even know. So, if that kitty was around, you’d be too.

[anonomouswriter-blr]

Oikawa x Reader: School Festival [a haikyuu one-shot]

Ok y'all, so my friends and I had an all-nighter where we write one-shots. The twist is, we each wrote down on different sticky notes a character, a plotline, and I think the third is a location. We did this a year ago and I forgot all about this, but I recently found it so I'm posting it here lol

I hope you enjoy.

1145 words

Story under the cut.

Being a foreign exchange student, experiencing life in Japan was a bit of a culture shock: different introductions, different eating customs, different school traditions. One school tradition you noted was that Japan had school festival days. For the past week, your class had been working on an idea and building the vision. Today was the final day where the booths would actually be open to people and you were kind of nervous. Why? Who knows. Maybe it was more excitement than nervousness.

Your class finished assembling the booth reasonably quickly, so you figured you’d find your friend Oikawa to see if his booth needed any help. It wasn’t long before you found his booth and he was waving you down. Oikawa was one of the first people to introduce himself to you. Of course, you now realize he was just trying to scope out the new girl considering his… following, but it ended up being a good friendship; mainly consisting of you helping Iwaizumi call him names and him being a weird flirt even though he’s pretty much a dork.

“Hi, Y/n! Couldn’t stay away for long, eh?” he asked, waving.

“No, actually I’m looking for your pretty friend. Hey, Iwa!” you responded jokingly, to which Oikawa feigned a sad pout. “How’s the booth coming along?”

“We're almost done. Just need to put up the last few banners,” Iwaizumi said.

“You may want to be careful, Y/n. As soon as we open, girls will swarm the area. You might get trampled and die,”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “What are you guys doing anyway?”

“Kissing booth,” Iwaizumi said boredly as the title banner was hung up. You turned your head to Oikawa,

“What?”

“It’s the perfect concept! There's no girl in the world that wouldn’t want to kiss me! Just think of the revenue,”

“I wouldn’t count on it if it’s gonna be you, Oikawa. How is this even allowed in a school setting?”

“It’s just on the cheek. He does have a big following of girls at this school. It’s not like we can use his brain to help our booth,”

“I guess that makes sense,”

“How mean! Everyone undermines my intelligence,”

“Oh yeah, how did your game go Saturday?”

“It was fine. We won, of course, but it just felt too easy. I need a challenge in my life. You should come to my next game! You can wear one of my jerseys,”

“Hmm, tempting, but I’ll pass. Volleyball isn’t really my thing. Well, if you’re pretty much done, I’m gonna head around to look at the other booths. See ya around!”

“Bye, Y/n~!”

*

Everything looked amazing and you were having a good amount of fun before someone grabbed your shoulders from behind, making you jump. “Ya ho~!”

“Gah! Oikawa you scared me! Why would you do that?” you exclaimed and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! I can take the abuse from Iwa, but from you, it’s just too much,”

“Sorry. I saw opportunity and couldn’t resist,”

“The abuse I endure for you. Do you wanna go do something together?”

“What about your booth?”

“I’m all kissed out and on break. Girls wear a lot of lip product,” he said while rubbing some gloss and balm off his cheek. “But anyways, let’s go get some food or something. I’m so hungry,”

“I saw a teriyaki booth somewhere. Wanna get some of that? You’re paying,”

“Don’t I always?” The two of you walked the booths, trying different foods and desserts. The games were pretty fun too! It was nice playing games that weren’t rigged. You were clowning on Oikawa a bit at how much he sucked at some of the games compared to you, though you're sure he’d thrown some of your matches together. As your escapade continued, you noticed some girls you passed had their hands pressed to their cheeks while pointing and gazing at Oikawa, undoubtedly gushing over how they kissed each other on the cheek.

“I don’t understand how you can manage all the female attention. I’d get too tired of having to interact that much,”

“It does get bothersome sometimes. I used to love it, but now I think I’d prefer to have only one girl's attention, you know?”

“Ah, the development of a teenage male. From boyhood to maturity. All ready to settle down,” suddenly you gasped dramatically, almost making Oikawa drop the snacks he had bought. “A Ferris wheel! How did they get a Ferris wheel here!?”

“Y/n, I don’t think I’d trust that. It looks a little old,”

“Old shmold! Let’s go on!” Without a moment to protest you were dragging Oikawa by the hand to the big ride. “Woah! I can see the field yard from here!”

“Y/n! Please don’t lean out the side like that. You’re gonna fall!”

“Oh, you mean like this?” you asked and leaned out,”

“Y/n!” he said, reaching for you.

“What? Are you scared” you asked, and started rocking the box. He grabbed you and forced you to sit still beside him, like a mother to her rambunctious child.

“You’ve lost your fun privileges. Sit still until the ride is over,” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. You wondered if rides were a fear of his or if it was just Ferris wheels. Either way, it was fun to be out like this. You guys only ever really interacted at school during classes or studying. “Hey, Y/n. I think you should rethink going to my next game. I think I’d play better if you were there,”

“Why would you need to play better? You already win don’t you?” by this time the wheel had stopped and it was time to get off. You left the ride with a ‘thank you’ to the person running it and continued on.

“It’s less about the winning and more about… Y/n, would you just listen for a sec?” he grabbed your hand and pulled you back nearer to him. You blinked twice, looking down at where his hand didn’t leave yours.

“Kawa?” he started running his thumb over your knuckles nervously, his eyebrows knitting together in conflict.

“I want to see you at my games. I don’t care if I win, I just want to see you wearing my jersey number at my games,”

“What do you…” this wasn’t… was it?

“Earlier, I was wondering if you were gonna show up to the kissing booth at some point today. But now I’m realizing I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because now it feels more genuine,” he looked up at you, into your eyes, it felt invasive, uncomfortable, but not altogether unwelcomed. “Y/n. Can I kiss you?”

“I…” but the decision was clear to you then. “Yes.”

Sure enough, you were at his next game, the number one displayed proudly on your back.

[alwaysurvalentine]

maybe - drabble

Written for Day 3 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?" - word count: 779

~

“The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?” 

Steve’s voice breaks the quiet in the room, his only response being the beeping of the machines making sure Eddie stays alive. He’s been asleep for 12 days now. Wounds stitched up and patched as best as they could. His doctors say all they can do now is wait. 

It took 2 days for Dustin to even explain what happened fully. Not that Steve needed to know the specifics, knew as soon as he saw Dustin crouched next to a bloody Eddie what happened. What decision was made - knew he’d have done the same thing if it came down to it. Doesn’t mean Steve’s going to let this go so easily. 

Took a week before Mrs. Henderson decided to cut back the time he was spending at Eddie’s bedside. She packed up her car and took Dustin to go stay at her sister’s. Steve can’t blame her, their road got torn up during the “quakes” (the government had a cover up story faster than he’d liked) and it made going back and forth to the hospital nearly impossible. Hasn’t stopped Dustin from calling to check in as soon as he knows Steve’s home from visiting hours. 

Every day he has to tell the kid the same thing. 

“Hasn’t woken up yet, but,” and then some small thing that he’s clutching onto with all of the hope in his body. Steve knows Dustin needs something to focus on too, anything that shows Eddie is going to come back. 

Despite not being the smartest, Steve’s picked up a lot from sitting with Eddie. Knows what the machines are reading, and even if his eyes aren’t the best, he keeps them peeled to see if anything dares to change. 

When he isn’t staring at the machines like they owe him something (like the life of the boy, the hero in this bed), he finds himself looking out of Eddie’s window. It’s not much of a view if you look down, just cars upon cars in a parking lot, but if you look up, the sky looks like paint smeared on canvas. (Steve never could keep up with the different types of art through history.) He can’t look at Eddie.

Can’t see the bandages that crawl up his neck, knows they cover his torso too. Can’t see his hair spread across the pillows like some kind of halo of dark, loose curls. Can’t see how pale he is, almost matching the white sheets surrounding him. Can’t see how small he looks - like a doll left on someone’s bed. He saw him when he was first let into the room and that was enough, when he tried to look again all he can see is where the blood trailed out of Eddie’s mouth as he did chest compressions. 

“-ve? You good there, boy?”

Wayne’s beginning to sit in the chair next to Eddie’s bed as he speaks, the words directed at Steve even though his eyes are focused on Eddie. 

Steve swallows and nods, going over to his own chair, grabbing the walkman to put it in his bag. (It’s the same one from high school even if it’s torn up and half the zippers don’t work anymore.) 

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted. I’ll get out of here, uh, they said they’re gonna lessen up on the pain meds starting tomorrow and see if that helps him to wake up at all.” 

As he talks, he picks up the wrapper from his lunch earlier and carries it to the trash in the corner of the room.

“Hey now, you don’t have to rush out of here. I appreciate you keeping an eye on him while I’m figuring stuff out at the new place.” Wayne’s voice is kind, the gruff edge of it more endearing than intimidating now. Some time between acting guard outside of Eddie’s room and holding Dustin while he cried, Wayne decided he liked Steve just fine. 

“Thanks, Mr. Munson but I need to head home anyway. Dustin is going to be calling soon and you and I both know he might just lose it if I’m not there to answer.” 

Steve knows the joke doesn’t quite land, not enough energy put behind the words and his grimace doesn’t help either. 

Wayne goes along with it anyway, a quirk of a smile accompanying his words. 

“Yeah, Lord knows that boy would try and find some way to walk here. And I thought I told you it’s just Wayne.” A mocking stern look. “Get some rest Steve. Thanks for letting me know, if we’re lucky he’ll be complaining about the hospital food come tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” 

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC… Part 4.

Okay, I know I said this next chapter was going to be spicy but I don’t know if it fits in with the story so it’s just gonna be some Carlos x Jenna fluff of their first few days and I promise part 5 will be spicy 🌶️🌶️ Again any apologies if I’ve used the wrong name for the OC, I’ve gone through and tried my best to correct any mistakes so hopefully there isn’t any! No warnings, I’ve tried to make this a fun little chapter with mainly Carlos x OC x Platonic!Charles. Just some badly translated French, Italian and Spanish. Jenna does her first interview with Carlos since their first date together and things are overtly flirty. The only thing breaking that tension? Charles Leclerc the proud 3rd wheel.

“Good night.” Carlos smiled knowingly as I rested against the hotel room door frame. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” I spoke softly, shyly glancing down to my hands. “You’ll be doing the interview?” He spoke quietly as I nodded back up to the dark haired man.

“Yeah, thank you for tonight anyway, you really didn’t have to pay.”

“I’ve got it all covered.” He shook his head firmly. “Well I owe you.” “No, never.” He hushed as I giggled slightly. He was adamant all night that I wouldn’t pay, he almost looked offended when I offered to buy a €7 crepe for him. “Okay. I feel bad.”

“I know how you can pay me back.” He borderline giggled as I gazed up to his eyes. He had a shy expression, a childlike amusement spreading in his eyes. “What’re you gonna say?” I let out a soft laugh as he giggled again. “I can’t, it’s really embarrassing.” He rumbled our laughter, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What? Was it for a kiss or something?” I snickered causing him to snicker harder. “That’s so cheesy!” I teased, nudging his shoulder as he moved closer, cupping either side of my face as I chuckled out before he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. It was a little hard because both of us were laughing and he kept bumping his teeth against mine clumsily.

“Sorry.” He snickered, kissing me more gently as I ran my hand over his bicep, enjoying the feeling of his muscle. He was so toned, he was literally unreal. “You make me laugh.” I commented with a shy smile once we broke apart.

“I hope so.. I’ll see you Thursday, yeah?” He spoke as I nodded, swallowing the urge to let the most excitable screech of laughter that would most likely scare him off. “Okay.” He smiled, eyeing up my lips once more in a manner that made my knees week. With one more lingering kiss we’d parted ways and I’d fainted as soon as I got back into my hotel room. Not literally, but I wanted to. The heaviest sigh escaped my mouth as I relived his kisses over and over again, swooning at the thought of his plump lips pressed up against my own.

Now there was only two more days until I’d see him again…

————————————————————————

“Hello, I’m back in M-Mon-“ I burst out in uncontrollable laughter as the two men besides me joined in. “I can’t- I can’t! Okay, I’m sorry!” I waved my hands at the camera crew who would crack me up further with their smirks and grimaces to bite back laughter.

“Okay, I’m calm.” I turned over to Carlos who has his hand over his eyes giggling. “Why is this so funny?” Charles then asked, the two Ferrari boys stood at either side of me as I straightened my back, dedicated to getting the introduction right this time.

“Somethings made her nervous… it’s set you off, hasn’t it, Jen?” Lisa asked, making my cheeks warm up. It’s as though she knew. I mean- maybe she did, Anise had a loud mouth when she was drunk. I didn’t blame her.

“Nothing to be nervous of.” Carlos shrugged from besides me, making my cheeks grow even warmer. “Oh- I’m going red, I need- okay, I’ll do it seriously now.” I pushed my blonde hair over my shoulder, clearing my throat and taking a couple deep breaths.

“Hi, I’m with Carlos and Charles-“ Charles burst out laughing from besides me, trying to hold it in as I burst out another giggle, my shoulder grazing against Carlos’. “Charles!” I exclaimed but Lisa ushered me to continue. “Um and we’re back in Monaco- and this interviews a mess I’m sorry- but we’re gonna um…” I covered my mouth from giggling as the two amused boys besides me watched.

“We’re gonna drive a car blindfolded!” Both of them started laughing again as I felt Carlos’ hand rest on my shoulder for support. “Not a real car!” Somebody cleared up from behind the cameras. Poor men were probably fed up of my nonsense. “Not a real car! Anyway- who wants to go first?” I attempted to usher the interview on, despite the fact I was blubbering out bursts of laughter every two seconds. Charles had lost it, he couldn’t even hide his laughter as Carlos jumped forwards.

“I’ll go.” He ran his hand off my shoulder, leaving it feeling slightly cold as I giggled again, nervous from his touch. “Okay, Carlos is going first.” I inhaled again, biting down harshly on my chewing gum when I almost inhaled it. That would not have been a good look.

“Where’s my blind fold?” The Spanish man smiled up to me as I turned to where Lisa threw one over, handing it over as he smiled up to me, before tying the black cloth around, over his eye. “Charles you gotta direct me!” Carlos exclaimed as the other man ensured his eyes were fully covered.

“I will try my best.”

“Ai, ai, ai, this is difficult.” Carlos muttered, feeling for where everything was on the simulator. I guided his hands to the wheel amused as I watched on as the chaos unfolded. Surprisingly the ‘interview’ went kinda well, it was chaotic but people enjoyed that. I had a good time, and even though I was nervous as hell with Carlos next to me, I’d managed to calm myself down from my giggling fit earlier.

“Make him crash.” Carlos whispered in my ear, cupping his hand as his fingers nudged through the strands of my hair. I didn’t know if it was purposeful or not, but it made my stomach twist with butterflies. “How?” I smiled back to him as he nodded me to follow him, pointing at the wheel as I reached forwards, nudging the wheel further and further to the left.

“Okay, I’m- Carlos where are you?! Why am I turning?!” Charles exclaimed in surprise as the whole simulator began jittering violently before he’d crashed directly into the wall. “Nooo!” He cried out dramatically, Carlos clapping his hands in amusement as I jumped back, acting all innocent.

“What happened?! Why did you crash?” I exclaimed as Charles forced the blindfold off his eyes.

“Carlos you fucker! You turned my wheel!” He jumped up out of the seat as I bit back a laughter. “Wasn’t me!” Carlos snitched as my mouth opened, mocking a gasp as the Spanish man laughed, holding either side of my arms and giving me a quick squeeze.

“It was you?!” Charles was wide eyes. “You are a bad influence on her.” The monegasque playfully shoved Carlos. “Now it’s your turn!” Charles pointed out. “I don’t even drive in real life!” I held out my hands.

“Even better!” Charles responded excitedly. “You don’t have to do it blindfolded.” Carlos exclaimed. “No! That’s not fair!” Charles held out the blindfold, clearly competitive about the whole thing.

“She doesn’t even drive!” Carlos defended as I climbed into the seat, feeling the Spanish man adjust the seat so I was further forwards. “Such a gentleman.” Charles pointed out before plopping the blindfold over my head. “Okay, I’ll use the blindfold but don’t expect me to be even able to start this thing.” I was just as shit as I thought, first of all I couldn’t even start the damn simulator, then my chair was constantly jittering from something I was doing wrong on the pedals. Who made a simulator this hard in the first place?! Maybe that was a stupid question. “Keep your foot down! No, no!” Charles screeched out in laughter, snatching the wheel to turn it- I was assuming back on the track. “I don’t know where I’m going.” I worried, yanking the wheel back to where I felt him turn me.

Carlos choked out a laugh. “No pensé que serías tan mala!” (I did not think you’d be this bad!).

“Qué? ¡Soy una mierda!” (What? I’m shit!). I exclaimed back out in Spanish. “Oh my god.” Charles snickered when the simulator lurched forwards and the simulator jittered furious.

“Mamma Mia.” Carlos playfully spoke as I lifted the blindfold back off my face. I had indeed crashed, and I had been going backwards for a good- “7 laps?! I was backwards?!” Both the boys began laughing profusely as I groaned, knowing they’d been messing me around the whole time. “Whatever, I think I was good.” I joked, biting down on my tongue as I jumped out of the simulator.

“Amazing.” Carlos teased back to me as I smiled back up to him. “Thank you!” I attempted to joke along but ruined it with a chuckle.

“Um, anyway, thanks for watching- if anybody made it this far in. This afternoon we’ll be joined with Daniel and Landon to see if McLaren can beat Ferrari’s high score.” I wrapped it all up as Carlos snickered. “You are funny.”

“That was the most fun I have had in one of these in a while.” Charles admitted as I secretly was super happy about the admission. There’s nothing worse than boring interviews that these drivers already had too many of to do.

Thankfully, we’d all have a break from the filming, I didn’t mind, I was having great fun, I couldn’t lie. It was fun to do something different other than just asking things all day. I was looking over the table of endless amounts of food, eyeing up what looked to be blackberry seeds piled on top of some kind of cracker.

“It’s caviar.” A familiar voice spoke as mg hand immediately yanked away from the food. “Ew.” I accidentally spoke before looking up and seeing Carlos besides me. “Where did you come from?” I smiled, biting down on my lip as he carried a plate full of the most food I’d ever seen.

“From the interview.” He spoke like it was obvious. “Holy shit, that’s a mountain of food!” I eyed him back up as he flashed me a toothy smile.

“I’m a hungry man, after this my diet starts again.”

“Fuck dieting.” I shrugged. “You never diet?” A

“Nuh uh, I don’t have the self control.”

“How do you look so good then?” He flirted as I turned back up to him with a perked brow. “I am being serious?!”

“I just… I don’t know.” I blushed, completely forgetting I was walking to put food on my plate. I was too caught up with being in Carlos’ Vinci it’s.

“You’re red now.” He pointed out. “Oh, Carlos don’t!” I laughed. “I’m sorry, will you come sit with me? Charles is there as well, he’s lonely.” I turned over my shoulder to see Charles eating alone like a lost school boy.

“Poor guy.” I giggled before looking up to Carlos again. “We best join him…” I’d been sat with them for a couple of minutes, swinging my legs nervously when I accidentally caught Carlos’ with my own. “Sorry.” I turned to see him smirking. “It’s okay.” He shook his head and continued eating as I joined back in the conversation with Charles.

“-sorry, and then she never ended up coming, so.. now it’s just me.” I shrugged, “do you enjoy it? Like the racing in general?” Charles asked. Just as I was about to answer I felt the nudge from a foot under the table once again that almost made me choke on my food.

“Mmmh!” I perked, knowing it was Carlos’ foot that had nudged against my own in a playful manner. “I didn’t when I was little, I have to admit I was forced by my brothers to watch it. But no I do, I have for quite a while.” Carlos let out a laugh at my words, as though he was being soo casual and definitely not playing footsies with me under the table. “Was it karting you used to do?” I then asked Charles, purposefully nudging my foot back into Carlos’s as he kicked back almost instantly. This time I jumped, reacting physically to the kick under the table. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it to be that hard.” Carlos quickly put a hand on my arm.

“What are you doing? Playing footsies under there?!” Charles burst out in laughter. “No, he kicked me!” I lied. “Purposefully.” Carlos teased, biting back down into a burger.

“Jésus, je suis en troisième roue...” (Jesus I am third wheeling). My eyebrow perked back up to Charles.

“Je peux aussi parler français, tu sais.” (I can speak French too, you know). His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?!” Charles eyes landed on Carlos. “Sposala.” (Marry her). “Anche italiano Charles.” (Italian too, Charles).

[zgvlt]

for your consideration azul ashengrotto x reader

summary: in which you make a joke that prompts Azul to confess his feelings for you

author's note: see end notes for more. anyway, I wrote this because of a joke my law professor made, and I genuinely could not get it out of my head, so i wrote this as a response

tags: gender neutral reader, second person pov, sfw, attempt at humor + fluff, 1.6k+ words, mentions of marriage (but nothing extensive and nothing decided), not beta read

[you can also read this on AO3]

You’ve always had the most bizarre ideas. 

Azul supposed the creativity you possessed made up for whatever prowess you lacked in magic; he’s certainly seen first hand all the ways you could get past dangerous situations with barely a scratch. He should have been used to this, used to you and your peculiarity, but then you take a seat in front of him, offering the most confounding deal.

“I was reading some of the books you have lying around here,” you began, with a mischievous smile that bordered on gorgeous, “since you were taking so long out there.”

Books? Any fiction he found himself reading was stored neatly into a storage box in his room, that or he simply borrowed them from the library—he was going to make use of the school’s resources to the fullest, after all. The only books you would have access to were books on business, on finance and law. Did you really spend your free time reading those?

That wasn’t to say you wouldn’t be capable of absorbing it, but he knew that the thickness of those pages (plus the small and terrible size of the letters) were no laughing matter. If you were curious about something, if you wanted to find any loopholes in the contracts of your odd part-time jobs, you could have just asked him. 

He wouldn’t even charge you for his services, really!

“Did you now?” Azul asked, trying to see if anything was out of place in the room. “What did you end up reading about?”

“Something very interesting, Azul,” you said with a laugh, “you hadn’t marked anything on the book yet, so maybe I actually know something you don’t for once!”

“Should I be glad you think so highly of me?” It was merely a rhetorical question—he was already smiling after all. “Well, why don’t you educate me, my boon companion? Is it some land-dwelling custom that doesn’t quite make any sense? Something either of us could possibly make use of?”

“Perhaps, you tell me if you have anything like this in the Coral Sea!”

“Go on then, I’ll be listening.”

“Do you remember how I sort of—okay, more than sort of—have a bunch of debts to you?”

Honestly, not exactly. At some point he simply stopped keeping count—rather, he stopped counting half of things he did for you as debts or exchanges and more just… ways to show his sentiments for you. 

“Of course I do,” Azul affirmed instead, not quite sure if he should be admitting right now that he saw things differently, that he was merely jesting about having you be indebted to him and whatnot. “Aren’t you fortunate I’m not imposing a deadline?”

“You can just say you don’t want to kick me out of the VIP Room anytime soon—it’s alright, I already know. You’ve had house slippers my size waiting by the door since last month.”

“I don’t need you dirtying my carpet again,” he said, having been prepared with an explanation weeks ago in case you ever asked. It always paid to be prepared in situations like this—how terrible would it be if you had caught him off-guard? “You should really make a habit of cleaning the mud off your shoes after PE.”

“It can’t be helped… but never mind that! So I owe you things. That makes me your debtor, and you’re my creditor, right?”

Azul nodded, suddenly more intrigued than he already was.

“I get where you’re coming from now. If it’s a law book, it’s definitely possible you know something I don’t,” he said, “there’s definitely some differences between law of the land and law of the sea.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” you exclaimed, seemingly excited to share something with him, something you thought he might be interested in. A part of him wondered if him thinking it was cute was purely objective or if his affections for you had finally inflicted his eyesight as well.

Not that he was going to get a third person to spectate and give him a second opinion. That was just unnecessary, even if he wouldn’t consider himself as your obligee, from your perspective he was your obligor, and as much as possible matters should be kept between the both of you.

“So, right, I have a bunch of debts. I could get rid of it by simply paying you back, or doing something for you… which, by the way, you still haven’t given me any price.”

Because he wasn’t going to, because he never counted them as contracts or obligations! Don’t most people usually want to have their debts waived?

“We can discuss that another time,” he replied with a muffled cough, “the thing you learned?”

“Right, sorry! So, I learned that… as the debtor, if I wanted to extinguish all my debts without paying, I could just get married to you?” you said, pausing for a few moments to laugh at yourself, likely at seeing his expression. Still, it didn’t seem like you quite comprehend just how astounded he was. “I mean, there’s probably a bunch of conditions I’m missing, but… Woah, Azul, why do you look so serious?”

Serious? Did he look serious? 

Honestly, rather than that, he just felt… conflicted would be the most appropriate word for it, he supposed. He understood that it was a joke, and if anyone else had said it he might have pushed out the fakest laugh he could muster before brushing it off entirely, but because it was you it was difficult for him to decipher how he should feel. 

A part of him felt flustered that, if just for a moment, you considered having that kind of relationship with him. Simultaneously, he wondered if it was right of him to feel even the smallest ounce of frustration at how easily you were able to joke about it, when he himself couldn’t quite admit his growing affection for you outside of doing things for you here and there.

Of course he knew you had not meant it as a way to make fun of his feelings for you, he knew simply because you were you, just as he was unsure about the possibility of you having an inkling of how he saw you, but the tricky thing about emotions was that half the time, logic wasn’t enough to stop them from being felt.

Regardless, either emotion was uncomfortable, Azul would admit to himself. As much as he wished he could resolve it without having to voice out his feelings, he at least had enough confidence that you would not put him down for it.

Besides, if he ever decided to back out of it he could easily, probably, improvise a few excuses to get him out of boiling water.

“Marriage is a serious matter. You shouldn’t just marry someone for the sake of erasing your debts,” Azul said, with what he hoped was a light enough tone to not dampen your spirit too much. He didn’t want you to misunderstand. “Especially since you’re not as indebted to me as you seem to think.”

It might have taken you a second, but you seemed to have processed his words with the way your expression shifted into confusion.

“I’m not?”

“You’ve been self-imposing it,” Azul replied, “lending you my notes, helping you study for exams… I could have put you to work in Mostro Lounge, or asked to borrow the ground floor of Ramshackle Dorm. Believe it or not, I find value in you so it’s not as if you can’t pay me, I just choose to look at these things as… actions that aren’t contractual.

“That is to say, I don’t expect anything out of it, so don’t pay me back because you feel bad or anything.”

Because that, to him, would be a far worse rejection than simply rejecting him. He hadn’t done those things because he was expecting you to fall in love with him or anything of the sort—he simply liked you, friend or otherwise.

“Of course not,” you breathed out, with an understated understanding that reassured him. “Wait, Azul, if you’re saying what I think you’re going to say… you don’t have to say it now.”

“You’re always considerate of me, aren’t you?” Azul said softly, knowing that was one of the reasons he enjoyed your company so much—the way you always managed to let him know that you cared without belittling or pitying him. “But since I’m sure you know by now, let me tell you properly.”

Azul has always envisioned confessing to you, or at the very least asking you out on a date, in a very polite and formal manner, something he would spend weeks planning behind your back. 

Perhaps he should call himself an unfortunate soul for landing in this unexpected situation, but the more he thought about it the more grateful he was for it—beyond just finally having the opportunity to finally speak his mind (and more so his heart), he’s beholden to you for looking at him not just kindly, but expectantly. 

You look at him as if you want to hear him spill every drop of his feelings onto you, and that alone gives him enough confidence to carry on.

“Debts aside… it’s not that it’s not up for consideration, if you actually want to, but aren’t we a bit too young to be thinking about that?” Azul laughed, and when you followed suit he could physically feel his heart beating faster, despite the shallowing of his ocean deep nervousness. 

“When it comes to obligations to do or not to do, one can never be forced to do an act against their will… which is why I ask, how do you feel about going on a date first?”

end notes | masterlist my other azul fic

[1] Me exposing myself as a nerd pt2. First I write about economics, then law, who knows what's next? also DISCLAIMER this is an oversimplification for fic purposes don't come for me THANK YOU! :>

[2] To talk more about what inspired me, my professor had a lecture about the extinguishment of obligations. He didn't touch too much on the marriage aspect (the law i learn about is mostly business inclined) but he joked, "if you have a debt you want gone, just get married to your creditor (and don't get a prenup, even though everyone should get a prenup regardless of how in love you are)". Everyone was laughing, including me, but I could not get over it, and as I was studying I could not get it out of my head! So I just had to write it out… with Azul as my guinea pig, obviously. Hopefully I can stop thinking about it now that it's been written.

[3] The other thing that inspired me was Azul's White Day 2022 Letter! I liked how… friendlier he just seemed this time, the character development of it! So when envisioning Azul here I wrote it out as someone who does let you figure out that you are special enough to him and not just a connection. It's not like he's just giving you free meals all the time, he still runs a business, but he's a lot more considerate and willing to help you out because you're a friend, and not because he expects something in return.

[4] Honestly at first I thought this was going to be completely "crack" and "humor", and this still was written with the intention of not being too serious, but I also think the idea of marriage isn't a joking matter to Azul because of his parents. But if this isn't your first fic by me, I think a not-too-humorous but not-too-serious tone was expected.

[5] Anyway, I don't think he's considering it anytime soon, duh he's a student, but if that's something you want it's up for consideration down the line. They weren't even together until the end (if you say yes to that date) so they don't talk about it seriously and deeply, but I did want to give a glimpse on how I thought Azul would perceive it… while leaving it open how reader would see it. Yes, reader joked about it, but I just decided to leave it up to you if they actually want to get married in the future or not, you know?

[6] In Azul's confession! Azul's one of those people I can actually see confess in different ways. Flustered and cute? I can see it, and that was the initial route I was going to go with-something accidental and cute. It didn't seem right though, so I went the other way with something edging on serious but not planned. Anyway, he probably screams about it into his pillow in his room later.

[writercole]

Blind Date

Summary: Blind dates aren't always the worst Words: 992 A/N: Just a little fun drabble for my homestate baby boy.

Blind dates are the worst. The anxiety about meeting a new person, the awkward small talk, never knowing if you were going to end up on the news or not. Her friend, Shelly, begged and pleaded with her to go out with her boyfriend’s roommate. 

“Ducky, please! I will owe you so big,” Shelly pleaded, using the nickname given to her friend in kindergarten. “Jake said he’s been moping around for weeks!”

“I don’t do blind dates for a reason,” she refused.

“But it’s not like it’s a stranger! I know him and his last girlfriend dumped him and since I’ve been with Jake, he’s been in this…jealous funk.”

“Shells,” she sighed, “I doubt we’re even compatible. And you know how I feel about Jake.”

“Yes, I know you think Jake is the cockiest asshole on the planet,” Shelly sassed, “but Javy is really nice! And it’s only one date!”

“He’s roommates with Jake, Shelly, he can’t be that great,” she scoffed. She wasn’t sure how anyone could tolerate that cocky facade for longer than just a few minutes, much less live with the guy. It’s not like his ego left any room for anyone else to breathe, anyway.

“Please, Ducky. One date. For me. I’ll pay for your next hair and nail appointments.” She could practically see Shelly’s pout and puppy eyes through the phone.

“Shelly, I can pay for my own hair and nails.”

“How about VIP tickets for Kenny Wayne Shepherd at the House of Blues?”

“And how would you get these tickets?” she questioned her friend.

“I have ways. Please, Ducky. For me”

“I swear, you owe me so much,” she groaned, making her friend whoop.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” Shelly chanted. “He’s going to plan everything and I’ll give him your address and he’ll be there Friday at 7. And stop stressing out. I can feel the tension through the phone.”

“I hate you right now,” she grumbled, eliciting a riotous laugh before she could end the call.

Friday evening rolled around and, despite the indecisiveness about her outfit and the amount of time she spent on her uncooperative hair and makeup, she was ready before seven. She poured a glass of wine to calm her nerves and try to stop herself from overthinking. The timing couldn't have worked out better; as soon as she set her empty glass in the sink, the doorbell echoed through her house.

She took a deep breath and checked her makeup one last time before opening the door and finding a breathtaking man with short, black hair and gorgeous tan skin. His white tee was covered by a light brown sweater, neither doing much to hide the thick muscles underneath. 

She caught herself eyeing him up and down with her jaw dropped. She composed herself with a slight shake of her head, her gaze returning to his dark brown eyes, smirking when she realized he was doing the same thing. 

He cleared his throat and said her name, hoping that he was in the right place.

"You're Javy, then?" she questioned.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, bowing slightly, a lopsided grin on his face. "Shall we?"

She nodded with a bright smile, reaching behind her for her clutch and keys. Javy offered her his arm once she was satisfied with the door lock and escorted her down to his car, opening her door and making sure she was settled before walking around to the driver's door.

"So, Javy," she said as he started the car, "what do you have planned?"

"Shelly said you weren't one of those girls who liked big, extravagant first dates so I thought dinner at Fiona’s, a walk along the river, then drinks at Molly's and maybe, if you haven't decided you hate me by then, we can find a spot at one of the other bars that have live performances."

She was shocked at how well thought out his plan was, and how perfect it sounded. Maybe Shelly had a good eye after all. "That all sounds wonderful."

The awkwardness that she was worried about was completely gone by the time they made it to the restaurant. Javy's hand stayed settled on the small of her back as they walked, only shifting when he opened a door or pulled out her chair.

The restaurant was quiet, sparsely populated despite the time of night. Their server was also discreet, allowing them time to get to know each other.

They found out that they had both grown up in the New Orleans area, just a couple of blocks from each other. Those blocks sent them to different schools and different groups of friends, but it left them wondering if they had ever bumped into one another before.

As they walked along the river, they drifted closer and closer, their arms brushing with each step. Javy kept the conversation flowing, telling stories of crazy instructors and death defying flights. 

They meandered through the streets to Molly's pub, walking in with their hands entwined and smiles on their faces. The bartender nodded at them with a smile and reached for a bottle of liquor. “Have a seat, loves, I’ll bring your drinks over.”

Javy looked at his date with a confused smirk. “You come here often?”

“Often enough to have a regular,” she chuckled as a malibu and pineapple was placed in front of her. 

“Why haven’t we met before?”

“Not the right time, I guess. But we’re here now. What do you propose, exactly?”

Javy grinned and leaned in, capturing her lips with his own. His hand cupped her cheek and he felt her smile against his lips. He pulled back with a sigh, his eyes fluttering open to find her with a wide smile and twinkling eyes. “Any changes to the proposal?”

She hummed and bit her lip as she thought, turning back to Javy with a smirk. “How about we revisit that tomorrow night? Same time?”

“Oh, honey, you are on.”

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

The Betrayer | Chapter Eight: Where We Begin

Oh, you were in for it now.

Pairing: Albert Wesker/F!Reader, Chris Redfield/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Violence, Blood, Minor Character Death

Notes: Hey guys! I know it's been a full month since I last posted. The holidays were very busy, and I spent the last two weeks trying to write this chapter. It was initially going to be a really massive one (I'm talking roughly 20k words), but I decided to split it in half because it was just taking too long to write it. Also, university starts up again next week for me, so it might be a struggle to finish the second half as soon as I'd like. This just felt like a better option, and I really like how this chapter ends anyway, so I'm happy with it! Hope y'all don't mind having two chapters of flashbacks because I felt it was important to set up Lucky's history in S.T.A.R.S. to drive home just how hard Wesker's betrayal really was for her. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | Previous | Next

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March 15, 1996; R.P.D.

It was a slow day at the station, something you always hated. 

Three of your coworkers in the east office were out with the flu, including your partner, Kevin. That left you trapped at your desk, filling out report after boring report while you waited around, almost hoping for some kind of incident so you could get out onto the street.

No such luck.

Instead, Arthur sidled up to you as you hunched over your paperwork, the officer looking sheepish when you glanced his way. “Hey, would you be a lifesaver and take these reports to the west office? I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I’m already gonna be late as is.”

You groaned as you stretched back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you took in the massive stack of papers in his hands. “Seriously, man?”

He gave you a hopeful smile. “Please? I swear I’ll pay you back.”

You looked down at your desk, considering your own pile of paperwork, and sighed. You did want a break. This was a great chance to stretch your legs.

“Fine, but you owe me a sandwich from Grill 13 for lunch tomorrow, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood and begrudgingly took the sizable stack from Arthur’s arms, holding it to your chest as you bid him goodbye and headed for the opposite side of the building. 

You stopped at the ramp that led to the west office entrance, deciding you were going to take the opportunity to make a detour instead of going straight there, the paperwork in your grasp the perfect excuse in case someone asked what you were doing. 

Maybe now you could finally check out the new S.T.A.R.S. office upstairs.

Construction had been ongoing for the last few weeks to outfit the room with whatever the new special forces team needed. It was once the station’s gym, but no one was really upset when they discovered it would be moved to a larger space. In fact, many officers (including yourself) had been complaining for years that the gym was far too small for the ever-growing police department.

From those you knew that snuck a peek of the new and improved room, they had built a private office, set up an entire wall of radio equipment, and–what you were most intrigued by–created their own armory. 

You made it to the hallway where the office in question was located, meandering down past the locker rooms. You glanced at the vending machines against the wall, wondering idly if you should grab a snack after this little adventure was over.

You reached the door, peering down both ends of the corridor to make sure the coast was clear before you opened it and walked inside. 

You weren’t sure what you expected. It looked exactly like you had been told it did.

The dispatch console was massive and pretty high-tech, though you supposed that would have to be the case for a special tactics force. 

As you swept your gaze over the room, you found yourself to be a little jealous of the computer monitors that sat on every desk, wishing you could type up your reports instead of cramping your fingers with handwriting.

You then laid your eyes on the armory, which was completely empty. You could only imagine the kind of weapons that would be stored there once the team had actually been formed.

Once satisfied with your snooping in the main room, you approached the private office, thinking back to what you learned about the recently instated captain.

Wesker, you believed his name was. 

He was new to the R.P.D., which shocked everyone when he was picked before Marini to be given charge over S.T.A.R.S. 

Gossip claimed that he was a tall, menacing-looking man, his eyes always hidden behind his sunglasses. He never smiled–or so you heard–and spoke with a very snide and commanding voice.

“Maybe he’s a lizard man,” David said as the two of you and Rita chatted in the break room. “They say higher-ups usually are.”

You and Rita shared an amused look at your coworker’s words, who always seemed to have a conspiracy for everything.

“I feel like he’d have to be a little higher up than that for the lizard people to believe it was worth the trouble, dontcha think?” you questioned with a laugh.

“Maybe Irons is the real lizard man,” Rita joked, whispering behind her hand. 

“I’m just saying, the guy seems a little suspicious,” David replied, defensive.

You snorted. “You say that about everyone, Ford.” 

You honestly felt sorry for the guy, considering he hadn’t even officially started working here yet, and already the rumor mill was turning. He probably had to walk a very thin line to maintain respect. 

You were well aware that some of your fellow officers would take the first opportunity to try and knock down any new hires a peg, like some kind of frat hazing.

Bunch of dogs. 

You rolled your eyes at the thought as you sat in the large, plush chair behind the captain’s desk, placing the stack of papers upon the wooden surface rather haphazardly. 

Must be a lot of responsibility to be captain, you mused, kicking your feet up on the desk and leaning back. But man, the perks of getting this chair alone are worth it.

You knew you should get back on task, but it was difficult to push yourself out of the comfortable position.

“I could get used to this,” you said aloud to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment, relaxed.

“I see someone’s made herself at home.” 

You gasped at the deep voice that penetrated through your daydreaming, throwing your legs off the desk and sending the papers sitting on the edge flying to the floor. 

“You scared me!” you exclaimed as you dropped to your knees and started picking up the reports, not even bothering to look at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Well, it’s not every day you find a stranger getting comfortable at your desk,” he admonished as he drew closer.

“Your… desk..?” Your eyes widened before shooting up to the man in front of you, met with your own reflection in his dark shades. “Captain Wesker?”

“How astute,” he replied sardonically as he appraised you. “And you are?”

You turned your attention back to the scattered papers to avoid his piercing gaze that you could feel even through his glasses as you offered him your name.

“You’re a patrol officer, aren’t you? What are you doing up here? Not slacking off, I hope.”

You sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were caught. “Not slacking off, per se. I was asked to bring these reports to the west office and decided to take a little… detour. Wanted to check out the S.T.A.R.S. headquarters before it was in full use, you know?”

He hummed in response and–to your surprise–knelt down across from you to help you in your endeavor, his voice sounding amused as he inquired, “Well, is my personal office to your liking?”

Your eyes snapped back to his face at his teasing, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But that’s not what really held your attention, no.

His shades slid slightly down his nose as he assessed you, revealing the most dazzling pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen, like two sapphires set in stone.

You felt breathless looking at him, really taking in how handsome the man was.

“Cat got your tongue, Officer?” he asked as he passed over the papers in his grasp.

You huffed out a bashful laugh, feeling your cheeks redden as you took the reports from him. “Sorry. To answer your previous question, yes. Probably the most comfortable office chair I’ve ever sat on.”

“Ah, good to know,” he replied as he stood to his full height, adjusting his sunglasses so that they covered those beautiful eyes once more, to your displeasure.

You stood as well, having gathered all the papers. “You haven’t used your desk yet?”

“Hadn’t had the chance, I’m afraid. I technically don’t start until Monday, but I wanted to make sure everything was in working order,” he explained as he stroked a finger over the desk, lifting it to his face to inspect the level of dust that had settled on the relatively new piece of furniture before turning back to face you. 

“I’m so sorry, Captain Wesker. I didn’t even think about–”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No need to fret, my dear, I’m only pleased to hear it’s to your standards.”

If you were flushed before, you must look like a tomato now. The term of endearment made your heart skip a beat. 

You managed to calm yourself down, wondering why you were acting like this, and responded, “Well, I should really get back to work.”

“I won’t stop you,” he said as he moved out of your way, allowing you to exit the small office.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Captain,” you told him earnestly, holding out your hand for him to shake, your other one grasping the stack of reports tightly to avoid any more mishaps.

He took your hand in his larger one, the grip firm, though not crushing. “Likewise.”

You turned to leave but stopped in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at him with an abashed smile. “You won’t tell my superiors about this, right? I’m sure I’ll get reamed if they knew I was taking the scenic route.”

He folded his arms across his chest and that ghost of a smirk appeared once more. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

You nodded, appreciative, and hurried out of the room, something you hadn’t felt in a long time fluttering in your stomach.

***

May 7, 1996; R.P.D. 

It was unusually cold for a May morning. You rubbed your arms to warm yourself since you didn’t think to grab a jacket before leaving your apartment.

You paused, quirking a brow when you heard Kevin humming to himself beside you as he cheerfully scribbled on a piece of paper.

“I know for a fact that isn’t a report you’re filling out so happily. What is it?” you questioned suspiciously.

“Oh nothing, really,” he replied with a shrug before fixing you with an impish smile you knew far too well. “Just getting around to applying to S.T.A.R.S., is all.” 

“Didn’t you pick up that form like, a month ago?” 

He rolled his eyes. “So what? I’m doing it now. The team is the R.P.D.’s baby anyway. Not like it’s going anywhere.”

“Well, I’m rooting for you to get in, Kev,” you told him, clapping him on the back.

“You could apply too, you know.” 

There it was, the typical Kevin way of not-so-subtly hinting at something he wanted from you without ever straight up saying it. Something that drove you crazy during your relationship. Actually, it still drove you crazy, if you were honest.

You sighed, this being the umpteenth time he’s brought up the two of you joining S.T.A.R.S. together.

Sure, the team piqued your interest, especially all of the new recruits, but you had no real desire to join it yourself. You were pretty happy with your current position. Besides, you cringed every time you thought of your one and only interaction with their esteemed and intimidating captain, where you embarrassed yourself completely. 

“I already told you, Kev, I’m not interested.”

“I know, I know,” he replied as he stood from his chair. “I’m gonna grab a coffee from the break room. Be right back.”

You waved him off, a part of you feeling a little guilty for being so adamantly against applying. Neither of you wanted to separate as partners, but you knew he’d make fun of you if you told him why you weren’t keen on joining the special tactics force.

You were certain your application would be tossed immediately anyway, so why bother?

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and tried to focus on finishing the report that you had started earlier. 

That is, until you felt a presence looming behind you.

You assumed that it was Kevin, turning around in your seat to tell him off for hovering again, but the words died on your tongue when you found yourself staring at Captain Wesker instead.

“Captain? What are you doing here?” you questioned, more than a little confused.

“I’ve come here to make a suggestion,” he replied simply. “You should apply for S.T.A.R.S.”

“I–what?” you asked dumbly.

“I’ve seen your work history here at the R.P.D. You’ve proven yourself to be loyal, competent, and hardworking,” he explained, leaning down slightly to place the application form in front of you before looking at you directly. “Or hardworking until you ‘take a detour’, I should say.”

You’ve never felt so bewildered by someone–or so exposed by their gaze. 

You thought you utterly humiliated yourself in front of him, and yet he was practically offering you a job? He must have looked into you after your first meeting, but you couldn’t fathom what about you would garner the attention.

“Oh, sir, I’m not sure. I’m pretty content with where I’m at right now,” you said, repeating what you’d been telling Kevin for weeks. You were now more conflicted in making this decision, but it felt like the better option. Or the safer one.

His brow twitched ever-so-slightly at your response, but he replied coolly, “The choice is yours but do reconsider. It would be a great opportunity for you. A woman of your caliber will surely bore of your current station before too long.”

With that, the man turned and strode out of the room. 

You sat there for a moment, trying to wrap your brain around the interaction.

“I’m back,” Kevin announced as he plopped into his seat. 

When you didn’t immediately respond, he glanced over, seeing the application sitting on your desk. 

“What the hell is that?” he demanded. “Did you lie to me about not wanting to apply?”

You snapped out of your reverie at the accusation. “I didn’t lie! Captain Wesker gave it to me just now.” 

“As if.” 

You sighed before caving and telling Keven about your first meeting with the captain weeks ago, and what he just said to you a few moments prior.

It seemed your partner finally believed you as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, shit. Are you really not gonna join? He was right when he said it would be a great opportunity, and you apparently made a good impression somehow.”

You looked down at the form, tracing your finger over the S.T.A.R.S. emblem at the top of the first page, considering. 

The biggest reason you didn’t want to apply was your fear that Wesker thought you were a lazy idiot, but the man himself just claimed otherwise.

And you would be lying to yourself if you said the prospect of getting closer to the enigmatic captain didn’t excite you. 

He was just so… mysterious.

It must have been a curse, then, that you always loved a good mystery.

You tapped your nail on the application, feeling suddenly sure of yourself.

“I think I’ve changed my mind.”

***

May 23, 1996; R.P.D.

You stood in front of the door to the S.T.A.R.S. office once more, staring at it instead of just opening it up and entering like you knew you should. 

You had always been riddled with anxiety when it came to big changes like this, but for some reason, this one seemed far more life-altering than most you’ve dealt with in the past.

Shortly after Wesker’s “suggestion”, you and Kevin had filled out your applications to the special tactics team together.

“Good luck, partner,” Kevin said as the two of you went to turn in your forms.

You glanced over to him and he held up his little finger to you, which you wrapped tightly with your own. Something you always did to show solidarity.

“Good luck, Kev,” you responded, hoping for the best, for both of you.

Kevin had been severely disappointed when he discovered that your application had been accepted and his wasn’t. He even spent the rest of the evening nursing a drink and complaining to anyone who was within earshot at J’s Bar.

You felt guilty about it, especially knowing that you only recently changed your mind about joining S.T.A.R.S. And despite Kevin’s constant reassurances that you would remain friends even if you were no longer partners, it did little to quell the heartbreak of knowing the two of you would never go on patrol together again, or sit next to each other at your desks and goof off between half-finished reports. 

The realization of that almost made you rescind your application altogether, to which Kevin hastily told you it would be good for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere if you got the job.

“Who else would beat me at darts?” he had joked, patting your head like a dog.

You sniffled, trying not to let the tears building up in your eyes escape as you laughed. “Everyone this side of town, Ryman. You suck at them.”

The man usually struggled to stay serious, something you once couldn’t stand but now found endearing. However, he managed to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze and said with the most sincere tone you’ve ever heard from him, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite knowing you’d miss Kevin as your partner (as well as your other office mates), and the anxiety of such a decision, you were excited.

You’d never escape the grueling paperwork, but the missions would be far more interesting, and you were keen on getting to know the other members of the team. They were the best of the best, and you could learn a thing or two.

Of course, you still had to survive your interview with the captain himself, which somehow made you more nervous than the unsettling one you underwent with Chief Irons when you were fresh-faced from the police academy. You still shivered every time you thought about the old perv and how he had raked his eyes over you like a piece of meat. 

Fortunately, though, the interview went well.

The captain was as cool and collected as you now expected him to be, seeming to listen intently as you answered his questions to the best of your ability. You were confident in your skills, but only being able to see your own reflection in his shades and incapable of deciphering his tone made you sweat. 

“Well,” he said as you answered his final question, “I believe that concludes the interview.” 

You stood up as he did, your hands twiddling in front of you. “So? How’d I do?”

He offered a small smile at that, escorting you to his door. “It would do you well to be more stoic. You have a habit of showing your every emotion on your face.”

You stiffened at that, turning to face him with wide eyes, certain that you screwed yourself out of the job before you even had the chance to work it.

Before he opened the office door, he looked down at you. “You start first thing tomorrow. See you then.”

You had sputtered out a thanks, rushing out of the room and into the hallway so you could catch your breath.

You couldn’t believe it.

You made the team.

Kevin congratulated you when you told him, and he offered to take you out for a couple drinks in celebration. You decided to decline, not wanting to overdo it and show up the first day on the job with a hangover. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t pester.

You hardly slept that night, rehearsing introductions in hopes you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself (more than you already had).

And now here you were, standing in front of the S.T.A.R.S. office. 

You straightened your spine and the box of your belongings from downstairs that was tucked under your arm before walking into the room.

Your initial plan of action was to meet with the captain, but you could see he was talking to someone in his office. Your attempt to remain self-assured faltered a bit as you stood there uselessly, not sure if you should wait by the door or come back later. 

“Hey, can I help you?” you heard a voice say. 

You turned to find a beautiful young woman walking up to you, her brown hair in a short bob and her blue eyes regarding you with light curiosity.

You introduced yourself by name, offering her your free hand to shake. 

“Oh, you’re the new recruit, aren’t you? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jill Valentine. Come here, I’ll show you your desk.” She released your hand from hers, turning and leading you further into the room. She placed her fingers on a chair that was pushed under a desk that sat in the middle of the office. “You’re here. I’m right behind you.”

You sat the box of your things on the surface of your new space, awkwardly trying to avoid crushing the keyboard in the process. As you looked up from the action, a gaggle of inquisitive men crowded around you. 

“Who are you?” one of them asked, taking in your civilian clothing. You had turned in your old uniform before arriving at the office and had yet to be outfitted for your new one. 

“She’s the new member,” Marini informed them, walking up behind the group. You didn’t know the vice-captain personally, but you knew of him. The surrounding men parted so he could give you a firm handshake. “Welcome to the team. We’re glad to have you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad to be here.”

He nodded before leaving, the group converging once more to greet you. You gave out one handshake after another, your new team members leaving to sit at their own desks after introducing themselves.

The two men that remained didn't seem to be in a rush to leave as they considered you.

One of them had a red bandana tied around his head and saluted you with a smile. “Joseph Frost.”

“Forest Speyer,” the other said, sporting a brunet mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” you responded, shaking their hands like the others. 

“It’s great to finally have an actual chick working with us,” Forest added. “Jill doesn’t count.”

“Up yours, Speyer,” The woman retorted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t mind these two. They’re the resident clowns.”

Joseph reached out to squeeze her nose, making a honking noise as she swatted his hand away.

“In all seriousness, it’s nice to have another woman on the team. Feels like I’m drowning in testosterone everyday,” Jill told you in amused exasperation.

You scoffed in agreement, leaning against your desk and crossing your arms over your chest. “I know what you mean. The department’s a bit of a sausage fest.”

“Hey, sausage is delicious!” Joseph defended.

Forest, who had been leaning on his friend, was quick to wrap his arm around his neck and give him a noogie. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Frost?”

“Okay, wait a minute!” Joseph said, trying to pull Forest off of him. “I didn’t mean it like that, man!” 

You laughed as the friends roughhoused, Jill smiling at you warmly.

“You guys wrestling without me?” another man asked as he approached the four of you. He was tall, muscular, and incredibly handsome, his brown eyes falling on you as Forest let go of Joseph. “You lost, sweetheart? I could escort you to the reception desk. Or better yet, out to dinner.” 

You were stunned by such a bold flirtation, only able to narrow your eyes at the large man. 

“Uh, Chris–” Jill started.

“I’d prefer you didn’t harass the new hire, Redfield,” Captain Wesker interrupted as he seemingly appeared out of thin air, disdain seeping from his tone at his subordinate’s terrible pick-up line. 

“New hire?” the other man questioned before glancing back at you, looking sheepish. “Shit, I’m sorry about that. I’m Chris Redfield, by the way.”

You had heard that name quite a bit since he was recruited a few weeks prior. The receptionists always gossiped about how handsome and charming he was. You weren’t sure if “charming” was the right word for it, now that you finally met him. “Cheeseball” seemed more suitable.

You smiled, feeling forgiving as you shook his hand and gave him your name in turn. “No worries, Redfield. Talk to me like that again, though, and I’ll have to kick your ass.” 

In your peripheral vision, you could swear you saw a smirk on Wesker’s face at your words. It was gone when you looked his way.

“No need for that. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise,” Chris replied with a chuckle and a good-natured wink. 

“Glad to see introductions are over,” Wesker said, now fully facing you. “I have a meeting with the chief soon, but you and I have some things to discuss. When I return, I want you to come to my office. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good,” was all he declared before turning and striding out of the room. 

Once the door closed behind him, you pivoted toward your new teammates, whispering, “Is he… usually that standoffish?”

The group nodded in response. 

“He’s a good leader, don’t get me wrong,” Chris told you. “He can be a hardass sometimes, but he’s fair. Just kind of–I don't know–reserved, I guess.”

“Hm,” you responded, staring at the office door in thought.

You wondered if maybe you could get closer to him than the others, though you weren’t sure how to do that. Or even why. Sure, he was handsome, but he was your boss. Nothing good would come from feeding the flames of this little crush you somehow managed to form in the minimal interactions you had with him. 

This was a dangerous game, and you knew you shouldn’t play it.

The image of those blue eyes danced in your mind anyway. 

You sat down at your desk, half listening to your teammates as they talked and joked around, deciding to put away your things while you waited for the captain to return.

When you were finished, you glanced around, freezing when you realized you could see directly into Wesker’s office. The two of you would be able to look right at each other when the blinds were pulled up.

“Was I assigned this desk, do you know?” you asked the others.

“Yeah, Wesker picked it. Why?” Jill questioned.

You felt heat creeping up your neck.

Surely, that wasn’t on purpose, right? It had to be some coincidence that he put you within sight of his office. That, or maybe he was keeping a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t fuck up.

Either way, you felt a thrill of both exhilaration and apprehension run through you all at once, knowing you’d easily be able to sneak a glance at him whenever you wanted.

God, you were so juvenile. 

“No reason,” you lied, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

The job was going to be interesting, to say the least.

***

August 6, 1996; R.P.D.

The days bled into weeks.

The team seemed to accept you into the fold with ease, your experience in the force something they respected despite your lack of the more elite training a majority of them had received during their time in the military. 

That was something that Wesker and Marini would rectify, however, having you spend time with each member of the team to learn their trade. 

They wanted you to be their everyman, someone who could fill any role in case someone was unavailable and their particular expertise was required. But what they needed most was a medic, and that was the first thing you were trained in upon your official induction to S.T.A.R.S.

You had always been a quick study, building up your skills rapidly. You found yourself making fast friendships with your teammates, immediately falling into stride while on missions.

The constant learning, the fighting, the delicious adrenaline of a dangerous assignment well done–it sang in your veins. You had enjoyed your time as a patrol officer and missed working with Kevin and the others, but this team felt like home. 

And even with the guilt you still felt for leaving Kevin behind, your friendship was steadfast like he had promised, telling you he’d just apply again. You managed to convince him to go out bar-hopping with some of the team and it didn't even end in disaster, to your relief. 

If you were content before, you were positively radiant with joy now, feeling more energetic and ready to take on the world than you had in years. 

Even your father, who never really accepted your desire to be on the force despite his military background, could see you were happy and commented on it. He told you he was proud of you, something you’d rarely heard from his mouth. It brought you to tears to hear it.

Maybe this was your calling.

It didn’t help that the captain took note of your aptitude, and although rare, his praise was something you started to yearn for. It was honestly pathetic, you were well aware, but you couldn’t stop the swell of self-satisfaction you felt when he told you how good of a job you were doing.

You’d be lying if you said that his approval wasn’t one of the reasons you tried so hard, but no one had to know. So you let yourself secretly bask in the occasional attention.

You had to admit, though, to your own chagrin, that your crush on your superior was getting a little out of control. The things he did had you going crazy, second-guessing his intentions with every interaction.

It started with him gripping your shoulder ever-so-lightly as he peered over it to check your report progress, which had you stiffening like a board in your seat.

“Good work,” he had said, the words making your heart skip a beat before he moved away like nothing happened. 

And then came the light touches, like a tap against your arm to get your attention, or brushing your fingers with his own as you handed something over to him. 

It was all innocent enough. You could pass it off as incidental, or as your growing desperation for his returning affection making you imagine he could have any real interest in you beyond your position on the team. 

You’d never been good at deciphering signals like that anyway. Kevin had to speak quite plainly for you to realize he liked you as more than a friend.

But then you’d find yourself glancing every so often into Wesker’s office to discover he was already looking at you. You were quick to avert your gaze, but you could still feel the heat of his stare long after your eyes had fallen back to your desk.

It made you wonder.

“We still on for Friday?” Chris asked you, pulling you from your daydreaming.

You smiled as your head fell to the side of your chair to look at the man—who was becoming one of your closest friends in record time—and remembered your plans for the weekend.

He was shocked you had never ridden on a motorcycle before and was adamant he take you on a ride one day. You told him Friday evenings were preferable so that you didn’t have to rush back home to get ready for work the next morning.

You informed him it wasn’t a date, however, and he had rolled his eyes.

“If it was a real date, you’d know,” he said, a mirthful gleam in his gaze.

“I thought you said you’d behave, Redfield,” you teased, smacking his arm at the implication. 

“Well, I have, haven’t I?”

“And you better keep it that way.”

He looked at you expectantly and you could laugh at the expression on his face. He was awfully cute for such a buff guy. Like a teddy bear.

“Sure are,” you replied finally, offering a wink and a finger gun.

“Good, cos there’s this great burger joint I found a few towns over. You’ll love it.” 

“Greasy food and a long drive? You’re speaking my language, Redfield.”

“What can I say? You seem the type.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, laughing.

He shrugged. “Just a woman of simple pleasures, I guess.” 

You scoffed in mock defense. “My pleasures can be plenty extravagant, I’ll have you know.”

“I don’t know, but you can show me.” 

Your mouth dropped at his sheer audacity and he gave you a shit-eating grin. 

You reached over and flicked his nose as hard as you could, making him flinch backward, to your satisfaction. 

“Can you guys stop flirting while I’m trying to work?” Kenneth said from a few desks over. 

“Hey, that’s all on him, okay?” you defended, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, brow raised. “I didn’t offend you that badly, did I?”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Redfield. I’m just gonna grab a coffee. Try not to cry too hard when I leave.” 

He shook his head at you, turning back to his desk as you waved, backing out of the office. 

It was a bit quiet today, as several of the S.T.A.R.S. members were on an assignment. 

You’d normally prefer to be out there with them, but goofing off with Chris always made doing paperwork more bearable. You still worried about your other teammates, though, a little tense as you awaited their updates over the radio and hopeful return to the R.P.D. 

You made your way casually to the break room, which was usually uninhabited this time of the morning. You liked it that way, making it easy for you to enjoy a moment of peace as you sipped on your hot beverage in comfortable silence.

You put on a fresh pot, leaning idly against the counter as you waited, wondering what your team was up to at that very moment.

Finally, the coffee was brewed, and you were quick to make up your drink, perching on the counter this time, your legs dangling. You technically weren’t supposed to be sitting there, something Marvin got onto you for several times in the past. But the room was empty, so you didn’t care.

After a couple of minutes, you found your mind wandering back to your captain, something it often did these days. 

You liked to imagine taking off his sunglasses fully to really display his features. You thought about what his hair looked like when it wasn’t slicked back, how it would feel between your fingers. You bit your lip as you envisioned what he looked like under his uniform, what it would be like to run your hands down his taut abs, and then lower.

Your brain started to enter certified gutter territory when the door to the break room suddenly opened, and you were met with an all too familiar figure striding towards you. 

Speak of the devil.

You could feel your cheeks redden as you looked upon Wesker himself, cursing your mind for the dirty thoughts you were just ruminating on seconds ago.

He greeted you coolly as he approached you, pouring himself a cup.

“Captain,” you offered in return. “How was the meeting with the chief?”

He frowned slightly, placing the cup on the countertop, his tone laced with a hint of vitriol, “About as well as usual.”

“That bad, huh?” you tried to joke, unsure of where to go from there.

That always seemed to be the case with the captain. You would attempt to conversate with him, maybe even get to know him, and he would deflect or give the most minimal or cryptic response. 

But sometimes… Sometimes your probing worked and he would open up a little bit.

“Mm,” was his only reply.

Guess today wasn’t one of those days.

You deflated at that, feeling awkward as you took a sip of your drink, looking away from him.

Thinking that was it, you were shocked when he moved closer, standing directly in front of you before leaning forward. 

You short-circuited as his face neared yours, and your breath hitched at the thought of him kissing you right then and there.

Your lips parted as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Before you knew it, he pulled back, a stirring straw between his fingers.

“Just needed this,” he informed you.

You felt embarrassed at your reaction, but you could have sworn you saw a knowing smirk grace his lips before he grabbed his cup and left the room.

You shook your head, pressing your hand over your heart as you tried to calm it.

But as you jumped off the counter, ready to get back to work, a realization struck you.

He never added sugar or cream. What was there to stir?

This man, you thought, laughing airily to yourself. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

September 13, 1996; R.P.D.

“You fight like a girl,” Chris taunted as the two of you circled each other, your fists raised and ready to strike.

“Oh, we’re going that route, are we? Trying to piss me off enough to lose my cool?” you replied with a sneer. “Dirty trick, Redfield.” 

You were both drenched in sweat, having been at this for several minutes. 

You were good at fighting, your teen years spent in hallway smackdowns and mixed martial arts classes, plus the police training as an adult. But Chris’s skills far outweighed your own, a big reason why you ever sparred with him to begin with. He always beat you in these matches, though you were getting better every time.

And today you were going to take him down.  

“Not a trick if it’s true.” At that moment he lunged forward, aiming for your stomach.

This was what you were waiting for the whole fight, dodging his punches and kicks and landing smaller but quicker hits between them. He was fast for a big dude, but you were faster. 

You just had to pick the right moment. 

You dropped low as he lurched forward, using his own momentum and catching him off balance.

He fell to the ground face first and you were quick to pounce, straddling his back and holding his arms behind him with all your strength.

You could feel the muscles of his arms flexing in your own as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but at this angle, he had no leverage. 

“Alright, alright. I yield,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked meanly, tilting your head forward.

“I yield and you won. Happy?” he said more loudly, just to appease you.

“Hell yeah!” you shouted, releasing your hold on him.

You pulled out your mouthguard, pumping your gloved fist in the air, the excitement of taking Chris down for the first time making you giddy. 

You leapt to your feet, holding your hand out to help him up. “Wanna go another round, Redfield?” 

“Would if I could,” he said, taking off the velcro straps of one of his gloves with his teeth after removing his own rubber piece from behind his lips.

“Oh, scared I’ll beat you again?” you teased, walloping him in the gut good-naturedly.

He knocked aside your hand as he rolled his eyes. “You know I have to go pick up Claire from the airport. Otherwise, I’d put you in your place.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that last part,” you said, plopping down on the floor for a quick break and ripping off your own gloves. “You two still coming over for dinner tomorrow night? You know, so I can finally meet her?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he told you with a grin, gathering his gear and heading toward the men’s locker room. “Seeya then!” 

“I better!” you called, watching him as he slipped through the door.

You fell onto your back and starfished out on the mat, your exhaustion from the match finally catching up to you. 

A part of you still wanted to go another round, wondering if anyone from your team was still hanging around the precinct. You could even hit up your buddies in the east and west offices. Rita always loved a good fight with you.

“That was impressive,” a deep voice rang out. 

With a jolt, you sat upright, looking wide-eyed at the man walking towards you.

“Captain!” you exclaimed. “You saw that?”

“I did,” he told you. “Chris is one of my best fighters, so that was no easy feat.”

You wanted to accept the full glory of such a compliment, but you had the suspicion that Chris was holding back the whole fight. “I think he took it easy on me, to be honest.” 

“Well, he shouldn’t have underestimated you, then. His mistake.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, only able to offer him a bashful smile, changing the subject in order to hide the way his words affected you, “What brings you to the gym anyway?”

He was still in his S.T.A.R.S. uniform, so clearly he wasn’t already exercising when he happened upon your sparring match with Chris. 

“I usually complete my workouts early in the day, but Chief Irons’s emergency call this morning was quite the disruption to my schedule.”

“Better late than never, I guess.” You let out a shrill giggle that sounded unnatural coming from your mouth, making yourself wince at your own awkwardness.

“Indeed,” he said, scanning the room. “Would you be up for another round? Unlike Chris, I have no intention of going easy on you.” 

Had you imagined the dark lilt in his voice as he spoke those last few words? Something about it made your spine tingle.

You were nervous at the idea of sparring with the captain, though, mainly because you knew he was the best at combat in S.T.A.R.S., even above Chris. And if you were only just now able to take Chris down in a match, knowing full well he didn’t put his all into the fight, you had no chance against Wesker. 

You weren’t exactly leaping at the opportunity to get humiliated by your boss, but the thought of him touching you, even in a violent way, gave you pause in declining his offer.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” you eventually agreed.

“Excellent. I’ll be right back.” He left for a few minutes to change into his athleticwear, something you realized you’d never seen him in until now. The thought drove you a little crazy. You shoved the guard back in your mouth and returned your gloves to your hands in anticipation.

He came back into the room in a well-fitted white t-shirt and black sweatpants. You felt your face heat up as you drank in his appearance and the way the fabric clung to his body. You never thought someone could look so hot in sweats, and yet.

He pulled on his gloves as he joined you on the mat, sunglasses still on his face and no protective piece of rubber in sight.

“Uh, sir, shouldn’t you wear a mouthguard?” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he assured, nonchalant as he got into position in front of you, “I won’t need it.”

Bewildered by his confidence, you matched his stance, putting up your hands.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

Before you could even blink, he was on you, immediately throwing a punch that sent you staggering back a step. 

You recovered swiftly, able to dodge the next one, though barely.

You were shocked by how lithe and quick on his feet he was, considering his height and the fact he was a decade older than you.

You went for a low blow at his side, hoping to open his guard for a second hit. 

He blocked it with ease before punching you in the gut so hard, it winded you.

“Keep your guard up,” he instructed, giving you the barest of moments to recuperate before he landed his next strike.

You were struggling to find an opening, so you had to desperately dodge and weave in hopes of catching him unawares. You knew you wouldn’t have enough momentum to charge him, as he wouldn’t let you back away far enough. You worried if you tried to kick him, he’d just pull your feet from under you. 

Maybe you could trip him?

That would be your best bet of getting him on the ground.

You narrowly avoided a kick to the chest, realizing now was your chance before he could stand in a more stable position.

You quickly swept your leg out, aiming straight for his ankles.

Before you could finish the movement, however, he was able to grapple you with ease, your world spinning as he flipped you spine-first onto the mat, pinning you there.

You were breathing heavily as you tried to loosen his grip, your frustration mounting at the obvious futility of it.

“Fine, I yield,” you finally admitted, slumping back against the mat in defeat.

Your eyes snapped up when you heard him chuckle above you, the man barely having broken a sweat. 

“You lasted longer than I expected,” he told you as he leaned down, the suggestive smirk on his face crashing you back to the reality that he was on top of you, his face mere inches from your own. 

He hovered for a moment, almost teasingly, before releasing you and standing up.

He pulled off one of his gloves and held his hand out for you to take as he said, “You need to work on predicting your opponent’s next move, my dear.”

“Duly noted,” you replied as you let him help you to your feet, feeling embarrassed by your blunders throughout the whole match. 

But there was something else too. 

The rush you felt as he pinned you down would fuel your fantasies for weeks to come.

He gave you a small smile, stunning you as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, an incredibly tender action considering what had just transpired between you. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Oh, you were in for it now.

***

November 5, 1996; Raccoon Forest

The day had taken an unexpected turn, one that you couldn’t help but be grateful for.

Just over an hour ago, you had been sitting in the S.T.A.R.S. office, arguing with Forest over which popular rock bands would win in a bar brawl when Wesker and Marini strode into the room, the purpose in their steps indicating one thing and one thing only:

A new mission briefing. 

There had been a robbery at the Johnson National Bank and the eight culprits had scattered to the winds. Intel suggested they had run off to the Raccoon Forest, up near the town of Cedar, but there were a handful of places they had been seen in and around the area. It was decided that a few members of the team (and yourself) would be splitting up into groups to check out the different locations.

And that led to you sitting in the passenger seat of one of the R.P.D.’s unmarked vans, Wesker behind the wheel. 

You were more than a little shocked by his decision to have the two of you go alone on this assignment, the man usually sticking to larger groups or remaining behind in the S.T.A.R.S. office to have a better hold of the situation. This time, he left Marini in charge, to everyone’s bewilderment. It didn’t last long, however, the team immediately jumping into action. 

You, though? You were dazed. Giddy, even.

You came into work everyday just hoping you’d have another moment alone with him like some blushing schoolgirl, happy as a clam to be given any opportunity.

Over the last few weeks, he had continued his maddening gestures of light touches and shared glances (which seemed to be a constant these days, to your delight), and you had sparred several times since that very first match. 

He always managed to pin you to the ground, no matter how much you’d been improving, and despite your competitive nature making you want to win just once, you couldn’t help but relish the physical contact combat training with him brought. You still enjoyed and learned a lot from your matches with Chris, but Wesker was the better teacher. Maybe that was the infatuation talking, though.

And now you were sitting alone with him, heading towards a cabin in the woods.

It would almost be romantic if you took the armed robbers out of the equation.

The relatively long drive was quite tense, however, and you tried desperately multiple times to ease it with mindless smalltalk. The captain was very clearly uninterested in that. 

And so the last stretch of the trip was completely silent, save for the occasional chatter of your team over the radio.

You spent most of the ride staring out at the passing trees, picking at your cuticles as you were oft to do. 

“You should stop doing that.” 

You startled at Wesker’s voice in the quiet vehicle, whipping your head around to face him. He glanced at you only for a moment before putting his attention back on the road ahead.

“Nervous habit,” you mumbled, feeling like a scolded child.

He didn’t respond, but you continued to look at him anyway. 

You admired the slope of his nose, his strong jawline, and the way he seemed to be made of only hard lines and sharp edges. How someone so cold could set you ablaze was beyond you.

Maybe you just wanted what you couldn’t have.

He half-turned back to you, meeting your gaze with a slight quirk of his brow. “Yes?”

“Nothing!” you said a little too quickly, embarrassed you had been caught outright ogling him in such close quarters. 

He let out a faint snicker, and when you peered over at him, you saw the smug smile that graced his lips. You were expeditious in returning your eyes to the window, not wanting him to see the heat blooming in your face.

Did he have any inkling as to what he did to you? How he affected you so severely, it must have changed the wiring of your brain? 

He had to know, right? At least somewhat? The way he’d tease you or smirk at you had to mean something. 

He’s still my boss, you reminded yourself. It wouldn’t matter if he knew. It wouldn’t matter if he felt even a fraction of the same way. Nothing good would come of it.

You knew that.

Still, you thought of sapphires. 

You remained facing away from him until he pulled down a dirt road and parked the van between some trees, giving you ample cover from prying eyes. 

You sat up straight, unbuckling your seatbelt as you turned to him for instruction, knowing when to set aside your feelings for the sake of the job.

The plan was simple enough: the two of you would circle the perimeter before advancing in on the cabin. If there was any indication that more than at least two of the perps were present, you would return to the van and call for backup. Otherwise, you could proceed with searching the small building and possibly make an arrest.

The captain informed the team of your whereabouts and of the plan, a couple of them already through with their inspections, finding nothing. He told them to remain on standby while you and the others conducted your own search. 

“Stay close to me,” Wesker warned as the two of you readied your guns, carefully making your way to the clearing where the old wooden cabin sat.

You and the captain checked the surrounding area, noting there weren’t any vehicles present, though the tire tracks in the dirt just outside the building were fresh.

There were no lights on inside the cabin as you approached the door, waiting for Wesker’s orders. He had you pick the lock, which you did with relative ease, before he went in ahead of you, gun first. 

The place was a mess, beer bottles and other garbage littering every surface. It smelled of mildew and sweat, which made you crumple your nose in disgust as you shuffled silently through the tiny rooms.

You followed Wesker as he entered the final space–a bedroom–and ripped the closet door open to find it empty, save for a stack of shoe boxes in the corner.

“All clear at the cabin,” he said, both to you and the radio. “We’re going to search the place more thoroughly. Tell me if anything changes on your end. Over.” 

You heard a chorus of “copy that” as you lowered your gun, feeling more relaxed as you began looking for either the stolen money or clues to the thieves’ current whereabouts.

“This place looks like it’s been abandoned a while,” you mused, taking in the state of the seventies-style furniture and the building itself. 

It was all covered in a thick layer of gray dust, except for what had been kicked up or swept away by the fugitives staying here–the dark wood of the floors, walls, and ceiling cracking and rotting in some places.

“Many of the cabins out here were built nearly a hundred years ago, mostly inhabited by hunters and trappers,” Wesker told you as he scanned his surroundings, ever calculating. “When Umbrella made their home in Arklay county and the population grew, a lot of the properties were bought up and remodeled.”

“I wonder why this place was abandoned, then.”

Wesker shrugged. “More people started moving into the city.”

“Good ole urbanization, huh?” you joked, offering him a grin. “I wish I had the money to buy a place like this. Would be nice to have a little vacation home. Always loved the forest here.”

“Though I believe I could thrive anywhere,” he replied with a sniff, “I much prefer the city.”

You laughed. “Fair enough. I do like to visit the more rural areas, but you can take all my city conveniences from my cold, dead hands.”

You heard him huff out a chuckle in response, something that always made you weak in the knees to hear it–to know he found you amusing. What you would give to hear a real, unrestrained, honest to god belly laugh from him, though. You wondered if he was capable of such a thing. You couldn’t even imagine a sound like that coming from someone so poised and put-together.

“Well, would you look at this,” Wesker remarked, drawing you back to reality. When you turned to him, he had fallen to one knee, prying open a floorboard in the dining room. “Appears I’ve discovered their stash.”

You rushed over to him, peeking over his shoulder to see rows and rows of stacked bills, shoved into a compartment built under the floor.

“How did you even find this?” you questioned in shock. You were pretty observant, but something like this never would have crossed your mind, least of all how to access it.

“The mountains were a safer place to store alcohol during the prohibition. Some of these old cabins had secret compartments and rooms installed to hide their contraband,” he explained before pointing at the loose piece of wood held aloft in his hand. “And I noticed these fingerprints in the dust along the edges.”

“My very own Sherlock Holmes,” you said, awestruck. “I could really learn a thing or two from you, huh, Detective?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.”

You stared openmouthed at him for a moment before bursting into a laugh, not expecting him to play along. 

He looked up and your heart stopped as he smiled at you. Teeth and all. You couldn’t recall having ever witnessed such a genuine expression on his face, the realization filling you with an unprecedented warmth.

Before you could fully appreciate this momentous occasion, you heard a creak from behind you in the kitchen. You both snapped your attention to the direction of the noise, pulling your guns from their holsters.

Wesker stood, holding a finger to his lips as the two of you crept forward into the room. You looked around, checking the pantry, fridge, and the inside of every cabinet, but there was nothing amiss.

You took a steadying breath. “Must’ve been the house settling.”

Wesker nodded and you moved away from him, ready to make your way out of the cramped space as you returned your weapon to your belt.

You were nearing the entrance to the kitchen when Wesker suddenly called out, “Wait–”

His voice was cut off by the crash that sounded beside you.

A door hidden in the wall flung open, two men barreling out of the space behind it and right towards you.

You let out a yelp as one of them took you tumbling to the ground, too fast and too close to have pulled out your gun in time to prevent it.

The man was huge, heavier than even Chris as he bore down his whole weight on top of you.

You kneed him in the groin as he tried to hold down your arms, the pain making him falter. 

You managed to flip him onto his back, pulling your gun out once more as he struggled against you. He stopped when he saw the barrel pointed directly at his face.   

You flinched when you heard a shot ring out, the sound of a body hitting the floor making you jerk your head around to make sure that your captain was the one still standing.

You realized your error too late when the man below you grabbed for your gun while you were distracted.

You had the chance to shoot, knowing that if he managed to yank it from your grasp, he’d blow your brains out in a heartbeat. 

But you had never killed anyone–never wanted to kill anyone. 

You knew a violence stirred within you. It was the reason you even ended up here in the first place. But murder? Even in self-defense, even justified, you were terrified of pulling the trigger. 

This was something you could never come back from.  

And so you made another grave mistake.

You hesitated.

Although your grip on the firearm was secure and he couldn’t tug it out of your hands, he used his strength over you to twist the barrel away from him and towards you instead.

You fought to regain control as he shoved it closer and closer to your face.

With nothing left to do, you pushed down hard, the firearm pointed sideways, to your relief.

But the pressure of the action forced your finger against the trigger, the gun going off between you.

You both reeled back from the noise, your would-be killer loosening his hold just enough for you to rip your handgun away from him. 

But before you could even rack the slide and point it towards the man once again, another shot was fired. 

You felt the man below you go limp and you sat there, stunned, as you watched the blood pour out of the hole in his head, collecting in a pool on the dirty kitchen tiles.

Hands trembling from the adrenaline, you stood up, taking in the bodies of the two robbers that laid before you, splashes of dark red now decorating the wall and floor. 

“Thank you, Captain,” you said, eyeing the carnage with barely repressed nausea. “That was too close.” 

You heard a hiss of pain behind you and you spun on your heels, finding Wesker with a snarl on his face as he held his hand to the side of his neck.

“Captain..?” you questioned, voice filled with concern as you stepped towards him.

That’s when you saw it–the crimson rivulets that ran down his wrist, staining the blue of his shirt.

You panicked, rushing forward. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding!”

You reached out to him, quickly pulling away his hand to assess the damage. It was a small, open wound. Thankfully, it wasn’t deep, and no major arteries had been afflicted.

He was clearly grazed by a bullet if the hole in the cabinet behind his head was any indication. 

But when had he been shot? 

He must have seen you trying to replay the scene in your head, counting the gunshots you recalled hearing, when he spoke with a low voice. 

“You hesitated.”

That was right. Your gun had gone off, facing away from both you and the perp. 

It had hit him.

You stopped breathing when it registered in your brain, the sickening awareness of the fact that it was the bullet from your gun that had injured him–that had nearly killed him–making your heart sink into your gut.

“Oh god. Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I can’t–'' He placed a firm, grounding hold on your arm with his free hand and you took a sharp breath in. You had to get it together. Your guilt could wait until he stopped bleeding, at least. “Come on, my medkit’s in the van.”

The two of you rushed outside and to the vehicle in question. You opened the back of it, having him sit on the edge of the cargo space as you scrounged in your kit for supplies.

You got to work on the wound, Wesker explaining the situation over the radio, requesting assistance from Chief Irons to handle the stolen money and the corpse clean-up. You were grateful he didn’t mention your almost fatal misstep, simply telling the chief that he had been injured.

Once that was handled and you finished covering the gash on his neck, you gently pressed your fingers to it, your eyes finally filling with tears now that he was all patched up.

Normally, you’d be over the moon to be this close to him–to be touching him–but not like this. It was tainted by your error in judgment. By your inability to do what had to be done. 

“I should have taken the shot,” you whispered with a quivering voice full of shame and regret, incapable of looking at him.

You felt him grip your wrist and your watery gaze traveled to his visage, his mouth in a tight line, whatever emotion could be shown in his eyes hidden behind his shades.

“You should have,” he agreed, “but you didn’t.”

You felt a sob catch in your throat. 

“And I should have noticed the hidden door sooner. But I didn’t. Nothing to be done about it now.”

You gaped at how blase he was being. You would rather him be angry with you than whatever this was. You deserved his vitriol right now. Not this calm acceptance.

“Captain, you were hurt because of me!” you cried, your fingers digging into his shirt as your tears spilled down your cheeks. “You nearly died!”

Your breath hitched as he brought his unbloodied hand to cup your face, his thumb wiping away the droplets falling in its path. 

“So did you,” he responded, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m willing to take a bullet if it means sparing you.”

You could feel your heart swelling in your chest, unable to tamp down the affection that threatened to erupt from that locked-up place inside of you, where you had been hiding your growing feelings for your dear captain.

And, without a single sensible thought left to stop you, you surged forward and kissed him.

His lips were soft, and you could almost laugh at yourself for being shocked by such a revelation. He might’ve looked like he was made of marble, but his skin was pliant as any man’s. You had built him up so much in your head, you sometimes forgot that he was human too.

He tensed and you pulled back instantly, panic rising with the thought that you had gone off the deep end this time.

First, you nearly killed your boss, and then you kissed him? All within roughly fifteen minutes? 

Surely, there was a record for something like that.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten–”

Before you could even finish your sentence, however, he tugged you towards him once more, kissing you so hard it made your toes curl inside of your boots.

When he released you, you were dazed, the feel and taste of his mouth so consuming, you were sure you’d be dreaming about it for weeks to come.

You wanted to say something–to tell him how long you had wanted to do that for–but the words died on your tongue at the sound of a vehicle fast approaching.

You sighed as you stepped away from him to create some distance, not wanting to expose whatever it was that had just passed between you.

You heard Chris and Jill calling out and you yelled back, alerting them to your location in the brush beside the road.

Before they could arrive, though, Wesker grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you into one final, searing kiss.

You had felt fire before–it was in your nature to chase whatever flame compelled you–but this? 

This was wild. Untamed. An inferno to boil your blood and burn up every shred of common sense you had left.

There was no way to contain it anymore. No way to put it out.

All you could do now was ignite.

--------------------

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[soultek]

A Hundred Years - A One-Shot [Aliens AU]

Author’s Note: So, this one is for my fellow Bishop Girlies! @mandy23b​ - Happy 4th Friend-Versay! (You’re for sure stuck with me now!)

@sufferthesea​ because 1) Happy (belated) Birthday! and 2) because it was your lyric choice and so I had to make it Bishop, obviously! I thought you’d enjoy 😉

Love you both TONS! 💙

Amanda, I know OC fic isn’t your preference, but, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Please note there are some weird AF paragraph gaps in this that I just can’t get to work nicely... so I apologise in advance 🙏

Warnings: Some swearing / Depressive spiraling / sex reference and innuendo / He might be *slightly* OOC... please judge this for yourself, I tried my best!

Premise: From this fun little request post.  There’s engineering work to do, and Rex is spiraling. Despite Bishop’s valiant attempts to stop this from happening, it seems more like a delay. Sure, it started off as a joke - but now she’s really thinking on the fact that for the next 100 years he can upgrade himself and she... can’t. Not without drastic medical advancement. Sometimes it’s not about living for the future, but in the moment...

Words: 6965

--- Lyric Chosen ---

“A hundred years wouldn't be long enough” ~ Mean It This Time, Carly Pearce

---

It started, as it always did, with a game of chess. Although, by this point in their down time, the game had been practically forgotten in favour of general chat and gossip. The pieces used more as something to occupy hands – with the rules of the game being broken left, right and centre, as they were moved across the board with no particular destination. Travelling between planets on shorter journeys meant no need for Cryo, but right now Hicks would be glad of it, because he was bored out of his mind. So bored that really he lacked the concentration for a serious game of chess – and his feigned attempts at trying had quickly made Rex lose interest in playing any better. She had been the one to initially distract him with small talk and now the board was an absolute mess.

Though, being stuck together on a ship – and being close friends – meant really there was little to talk about beyond rumour and speculation. Or whatever bets the other crew members had going on this week. Hicks sank all the way down to the table, head resting on his crossed arms. She raised her eyebrows at him, “You know at this point you might as well go back to bed, huh?” “Ah, would that I could Rex… you know the second I do, something will actually happen.” “Well at least it will be worth it for the rest of us!” She tipped the rook she was messing with a little too far and it clattered off the board and rolled across the table, Hicks stretched his palm out to stop it, but even this was half hearted. “This is the most down down time ever.” “Then go find someone to mess around with.” “You’re the most fun to mess around with – suggesting chess was a screw up on my part.” Rexanna leant on her knuckles, eyebrow quirked. She tipped her head, and as she did so loose curls of dark hair fell into her face; regretting her change of position, she blew them out of the way. Maybe she should have tied it back today. “I noticed. And to think I could have kept going for an easy victory!” She looked back to the board – no point now with the state it was in. If they wanted to keep playing, they’d have to reset the whole thing. “But I’ll take the compliment that I think that was.” Hicks raised his head, but not by much, “It’s official, I’ve never been this bored in my life.” “Sorry, I didn’t realise you turned into Hudson on this trip-!” Rex folded her arms, looking away from him nonchalantly. That soon got her best friend sitting up. “You did not.” “Didn’t what?” “I KNOW I didn’t hear you say that-!” She grinned, “Well, if you’re gonna complain I don’t know what you expect me to say!” He leaned across the table, “You are SO lucky I like you!” “Or what?” Rex couldn’t help grin wider, teasing, before he smacked both her shoulders, “OW! Geez, Hicks, you’re a lot bigger than me!” She tried to lunge back across the table, but he had leaned out of reach. Now they were both laughing, and though she was rubbing her right shoulder, Rex wasn’t actually hurting. “Hey, you could always do work!” She suggested; that was always the easiest way to increase any kind of productivity, and on a ship this big, there was always something to do. “Uh, no thank you.” He waved that one away – seeming to suggest that in honesty, the only reason he was sitting across from her now was to avoid working. Fair enough. Hicks swung his right leg up onto the bench beside him, now apparently interested in his combat boots, “Never known you to throw a game of chess.” Her eyes flicked back to the pieces in annoyance, “I didn’t, but you weren’t really taking it seriously so there was no point. There’s nothing in an easy victory.” Hicks was right though; it was her favourite game. From the “CHQ MVIII” on her armour, which had now also been transferred to a tattoo just below her right collarbone, always obscured by her blue flight suit. (Which she’d now become partial to wearing when not in combat, for both comfort and the practicality of ad hoc engineering around the ship. Not to get too ‘matchy-matchy’ with her significant other!) To the chess piece around her neck… it was pretty much how her whole relationship had started… “I dunno, I figure distracting you once or twice has given me easy victories.” Rex’s eyes narrowed, “And you think I’ve forgiven you for that!?!” “Well if I can beat you then I figure you’re not really the best on the ship.” This time instead of leaning across to hit him, Rexanna grabbed the piece nearest to her and threw it at him, “Shut up!” Hicks merely laughed, “Have any of the newbies beaten you yet?” “No!” She was clearly falling for his teasing at the way her voice was pitching - damn him! “I better teach ‘em that all you gotta do is mention-” “And how is that gonna work now, jackass!” She picked up another piece, “Don’t make me throw another at you!” His laugh turned into a full-blown cackle before he calmed a little – smile still mischievous as he looked to her. “Frost, Spunkmeyer and Wierzbowski still got that stupid bet on how long it’s going to take anyone to figure out your relationship?” “I still think they should have had bets on the newbies thinking it’s us, but that’s just me.” Rex gave a shrug, “I think so. It’s not out there… it’s not hidden. It just is. Some of them know, I’m surprised they haven’t told the others… unless they’re getting hush money!” Hicks picked up one of his bishops and studied it with interest, “They do seem to keep thinking we’re a thing.” “You’re not exactly pointing out that you have a girlfriend, are you.” “Well I think I’d much rather be out in space with her than you, but that’s just me.” Rex folded her arms, squinting and mouth open, but didn’t even rise to it, “You wouldn’t be out here without me Hicks and you know it.” “Utterly lost!” He grinned and put the piece back down. Before his smile faded a little as he looked curiously behind her, “Ooop! Your man is here to pick you up.”

Rex twisted around in her seat, and sure enough now standing in the doorway of the mess hall was Bishop. She tried not to immediately beam about it – but knew this only meant one thing. Mother had picked up a few knocks here and there with some of the ship’s internals and although not serious, they needed fixing. Rex had been putting it off until they had enough down time and no other work to do… apparently that time had come. She offered a wave, before indicating that she’d be two minutes. He nodded politely, before she turned back to Hicks. “Yeah, guess I now have work to do!” “Aw man, you jinxed it!” Her best friend appeared momentarily sympathetic before his eyes narrowed, “Work? With Bishop? C’mon Rex, where are you really going? I know it ain’t work!” “Do you want a functioning ship or not? We’ve been putting this fix off for weeks!” “Yeah, uh huh, sure!” Hicks raised his eyebrows at her to indicate he believed otherwise, “Have fun getting your fix.” Rex hated that she could feel her cheeks heating, “Screw you!” “Sounds like that’s what’s gonna happen to you, honey.” “If I wasn’t so scared for my life of what Ripley would do to me once we got back, I’d kill you.” Hicks grinned a little wider, “That’s my girl! Also, if we’re being honest, as you can’t survive without me, you’d be throwing yourself out an airlock far before that.” Point noted – but Rexanna wouldn’t say it out loud. She pulled her feet out from under the bench and made a motion to stand, but Hicks was intent on keeping her there as long as possible – now studying more chess pieces. “Hey, didn’t you play against his creator, once?” She was glad for a moment she hadn’t mentally checked out of the conversation already, or she might have taken a while to pick up the train of thought going on here. Hicks was referring to Bishop’s designer and the lead engineer on the 341-B project. “Michael? Yeaaah, what about it?” “Didn’t you win?” Rex wondered if he was being facetious. “No.” “No?!” Hicks genuinely looked surprised when he looked up, “I thought you got what you wanted?” “I did get what I played him for…”   essentially the agreement that once Bishop became an ‘obsolete’ model in Wey-Yu’s eyes, and especially in the eyes of their USCM missions, instead of being deactivated he would become completely Rex’s responsibility. She expected Android law to have progressed by then, but, until such a time, if this protected him it was the least she could do. “…I didn’t win.” “Fair enough. I won’t bring up any more of your losses, I was trying to big you up.” Rex scoffed, “Against a multiple time world chess champion? Try again – remind me of all the times I beat Hudson,” she leaned in, giving her hands purchase to push herself back and away from the table, “or you!” Hicks laughed again, “No chance!” Rex stepped back a few paces, grinning at her best friend, “Alright, I gotta go – enjoy your single life on the ship, Hicks!” “Yeah well, at least I don’t have to hide away any time I want some action and pretend I’m working-!” This time Rexanna laughed, winking at him before turning, “You’re just jealous!”  She held a hand up in a wave goodbye, “See ya!”

Bishop was leaning against the wall outside as she rounded the corner; amused by her friends jabs as much as anything else. She’d get him back later. “Rexanna…” “Sorry-! To be honest I’m not sure if that conversation was worth finishing. But I’m good now… this is about the fix we’ve been putting off right?” “Yes.” He regarded her steadily, “This is… about work.” Catching on, she flicked her eyes back in the direction she’d come from, “Y- Yes, I know.” “Didn’t seem that’s what you and Hicks were talking about.” She very nearly snorted, “I think he was joking with me, but that isn’t what I was expecting anyway. I knew this had to be done… down time comes after, that’s okay with me!” She beamed, walking in step with him, offering a wink that was only met with a look of mild disapproval.

  ***

  They were so close as they walked towards the source of the issue that they found hands and arms almost constantly brushing – pretty soon causing their fingers to entwine. They didn’t let go at any point after that, including as they had to descend several flights of stairs – instead Bishop would walk first in order to keep her steady. Like a gentleman (as he so often was). Sometimes he made Rex wonder why anyone would rather be with a human male – honestly just one mission with any of the guys she’d been posted with would likely put you off for life. Except maybe Hicks – but of course she’d make that exception for her best friend. Even when they came across others in corridors the connection between them was never severed, even if it meant side stepping or doing some more awkward single file walking.

They’d been together a while by now, but any situation like this always made something spark within Rexanna – she never knew if it was excitement or dread, but it was definitely anticipation of what would happen. What would their reaction be; what would his reaction be. So often before she’d unconsciously worried that he would drop her hand at the slightest sign of conflict or disapproval. Which took to Rex holding him just that little bit tighter every time they came to that impasse. Bishop picked this up so quickly that at this point the only way Rex was going to make him let go was if she dropped his hand first. On the ship where most people knew, she was much more relaxed about it; and with any of the first-time fliers, Rex was ranked high enough that staring them down would get them to drop any look of uncertainty.

  Eventually she realised they had got this far without much conversation. Normally that would have been fine; they both knew exactly the issue to fix here and silence was always comfortable between them. In all honesty when she had to spend the majority of her day giving orders to the other engineers or fighting her way through marine banter, returning to a comfortable silence with Bishop was heaven. Everything else was simply exhausting. They didn’t really need words to know how each other was feeling. He could simply hold his arms out for her and that would be enough.

Yet, Rexanna hadn’t seen him all morning – and right now it was like she was neglecting to ask about his day. She turned, “Hey, I thought you’d come and collect me earlier. You weren’t around when I woke up, but considering I had no other work to do, I thought you might leave me a note or something to meet you down here…!” “Oh.” Bishop smiled, “No, I had to run some diagnostics. Still got a few to finish later, you can help, if you like?” “On yourself? Sure… You okay?” “I’m fine – it’s just routine.” He gave a shrug, “Then I thought we ought to be getting on with this before it got too late.” Rex could agree with that, “Routine? You sure?” Ever since she’d found those weird lines of three-laws-defying code in him that he kept rewriting, she had to admit there was a certain level of paranoia that Wey-Yu would find some way of wiping them out of him. “Well…” She didn’t like the pause, this time stopping their walk to actively stare at him. She loosened her fingers from Bishop’s – as if to emphasise the importance of his next answer. “…It’s just upgrades, Ree, you don’t need to worry. I promise. But there are some data chip changes I need to do.” His voice was so gentle with that particular use of her name that she believed him instantly. But she had other issues, chewing her lip momentarily and looking away from the weight of his own stare. Even now sometimes she couldn’t hold those eyes of his. Truth was, she might have got his promise – might even have been given a written contract with a signature… but she didn’t trust Michael and the company one bit. What annoyed Rex most was she didn’t have a choice.

Instead, she made something more like a joke of the situation, continuing their walk. “In 100 years I'll be nothing but dust, and you'll still be walking around upgrading yourself!” Bishop’s response was to chuckle, and she smiled just to hear him laugh, “You don't know that! There could be many medical advancements between now and then.” Funnily enough he said it with every ounce of seriousness, so it was Rexanna’s turn to laugh, “Well they better hurry the hell up or I'll be too old! By that point they better put my brain in an android!” She didn’t know if she were joking or not, but Bishop looked across to her, then looked away with a little smile. “That... would be agreeable.” Rex shook her head, before nudging him playfully with her shoulder; “Yeah, I bet!” She was smiling, and her joke was meant to be throw away… then suddenly she found herself really thinking on it. Her smile faded.

Not due to unhappiness but curiosity – every now and then this was something Rex would think on. There were a lot of things she couldn’t give Bishop that an android partner could. They would be able to understand a lot of mechanical grievances; and that never ending fight for better rights. He was an Equal Opportunity Advisor for the USCM after all. Rex could live her life blissfully and never come into contact with any of that. She tried to be an active ally, for obvious reasons – but did she really give him the support he wanted… or needed? She couldn’t help but voice it: “Would you… like that?” “Like what?” She got the feeling Bishop knew, but wanted her to voice the question anyway. “If I was in an androids’ body instead of mine?” If it was still her just less flesh and bone and more circuit boards and circulation fluid. “I mean would that even be the same to you?” Bishop suddenly frowned so hard that Rexanna thought he might have malfunctioned – this time she held his stare just because of how disbelieving it was; and she was starting to feel like she’d asked something wrong. Her lips parted to say something, anything at this point that would get that look off his face. Bishop spoke first. “No.” There was a hanging silence again, Rex blinked. “S-Sorry, to which part?” “All of it. Why would I want that?” “Well, like I say… my life is so finite. As long as you have a way to keep upgrading… I’ll be long gone by the time anything happens to you. If I was an android I could… be around for so much longer.” He stepped a little closer to her, “Rex.” It was too late; she was spiralling, “I don’t know, maybe that’d be better for you. My life won’t be long enough for either of us – even with the wonders of tech, and you’ll outlive me for so long!” Would he be able to go on without her? Did Rex really want the answer to that question? “Rexanna. Ree. Don’t do that. Stop.” He took her hands back in his, but, as she kept talking Bishop moved his hands to her arms, pulling her closer before placing his forehead gently to hers. “Hey.” Silence again, except she could hear the pounding of her heart inside her head. Brown eyes wide as they looked between his. “You wouldn’t be you. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Snaking his left hand down her right arm he traced Rex’s tattoo – a swirl of stars and nebulae - before interlinking their fingers, “You don’t think the reason you are so complex and so… human is part of the reason I fell for you?” She wasn’t really one for blushing, but Rex knew she was getting hot – and he was giving her very little room. Even now Bishop still had troubles with personal space. If Rex backed up, she knew she was about to hit the steel wall of the ship. She tried to look anywhere but his eyes, searching for something to say and stammering. What exactly was she supposed to say to that. In reality, Bishop wasn’t expecting her to return the favour. And she noticed that his right hand was now clasped around her other wrist, fingers pressing against her pulse point – as if to really hammer what he was saying home. Duly noted.

Though he’d have to remind her, again and again and again… 

To break what for her was fast becoming too awkward of a pause, Rex deflected with humour, as her group of marines so often did. “Aw man, and here I thought it was for my stellar good looks!” She made sure her grin was extra cheesy. Bishop’s laugh was almost painful, but his look softened. “Well… perhaps a little of that too.” At least she was giggling and not spiralling; he could cope with that – as apparently this was so funny to her, she ended up collapsing into his shoulder, hiding her face in his flight suit. Or, perhaps Rex was hiding for different reasons… He watched her for a moment, shaking his head, before taking a deep – and unnecessary – breath. “Okay, Ms. Mori. We have a computer to fix. Let’s go.”

Ah, her last name? Now she was in trouble… ***

Rex had fixed plenty of systems like this before - but never in a room that looked quite so compact. Usually equipment like this was afforded areas that were wider, looking a little like rows of servers. For some reason on this ship, they had decided to place it in a cramped space; meaning instead of having rows of modules with gaps in between, they were all stacked on top of each other and screwed into the walls. Not only that, but it must have been stuffed into a tight angled part of the ship - given that the ceiling was an unusual hexagonal shape that seemed to cave in on itself. And there were modules screwed into that too. The saving grace was it was brightly lit. Unsurprisingly, everything they had to fix was up there. Both because a) of course it wasn’t on the floor, and b) it was most likely the weird angles that were causing issues. Rex swivelled in place to Bishop, eyebrow raised, pointing a finger to the ceiling; “Guess we’re climbing?” “Mhm.” He affirmed, before giving her an equally disbelieving look, “You think they’d design this a bit better though.” “Hopefully we fix it well enough for this to be the one time it comes up, but I foresee further issues..!” “Fixing it once in almost 2 years?” Bishop admired that hope and optimism, “I doubt it.” “Yeah,” Rexanna sighed gently, “me too.”

On the far wall, it seemed that the company were quite prepared for engineers to fix any faults in this room; a storage locker conveniently labelled “tools” (as if they wouldn’t have bought their own? Well… at least Bishop had remembered to!) and several cables and harnesses tied neatly together that ran all the way to sturdy looking hooks in the ceiling. At least they’d assist in climbing: but what an effort! Rex puffed out her cheeks with an eye roll; this was going to be a long day.

Before she hooked herself up to ascend though… Rex patted down the pockets of her flight suit, wait… She cursed herself for a moment; surely she didn’t forget them!? Usually she had at least one in a pocket somewhere!! Bishop cleared his throat, and as Rex looked to him she realised he’d known exactly what she was looking for - extending his hand out with a hair tie. “And that’s why I love you.” She took it from him gratefully pulling her dark hair up into it, before smiling, with a gentle, “thank you.” That didn’t perturb him from his joke, though. “Thought it’d be for much more than that.” Bishop bumped his arm against hers as he passed, ready to set himself up for the climb. Rex couldn’t help snorting; “You mean your good looks, right?!” Although he wasn’t facing her, she could hear that smile in his voice. “Something like that.”

It didn’t take them long to attach the harnesses and ropes. Luckily they wouldn’t need to also pull a tool box up with them, as the harnesses came with handy tool belts; and anything they couldn’t fit in there was transferred into flight suit pockets. In reality, it wasn’t necessarily so much of a climb, but having to pull yourself up to the level you wanted. Not so bad for him, she supposed, but an arduous task when this whole fix would require you using your arms. There must have been an easier way to do it…?

Rex thought hard, staring at the rope in her hands for a long time. Either she’d missed something Bishop had said or he was just being extra patient with her, because he hadn’t moved to start either. Staring intently in silence and waiting for her to say whatever she was thinking. And then it clicked. “Oh my god…” she said softly, before laughing, “of course!” Seemingly Bishop knew she was about to say something typically Rex by the subsequent look on his face. “Mother, could you please disengage the artificial gravity in this room?”

  There was a beat with no noise. Rex wasn’t even sure if she expected Mother to answer them. Sometimes Mother liked to remain silent when working on things and sometimes she could be overly… motherly.

Her eyes flicked across to Bishop’s as if to tell him it was at least worth a shot; but as Rexanna did so she noticed her clothes begin to rise, followed by her dog tags; escaping her flight suit and threatening to send the chess piece attached (a Bishop, what else?) sailing to the ceiling if she didn’t keep hold of it. Before long, her feet were hovering off the floor as it really kicked in. That unsteady moment when Rex was never sure if she’d remain floating or suddenly crash back down in a heap. The latter had happened many a time - especially when people weren’t expecting it! Luckily the Zero-G held and they found themselves free floating to the top of the room where the work was needed. This time the ropes served as anchors to make sure that they weren’t drifting off away from where they were meant to be. Hopefully no one would decide to check on them, or they were in for a nasty shock. Else the gravity would reengage and Rex would find herself with angry red marks where her harness caught her sudden weight in quite a large fall.

It would be no good doing this if you were afraid of heights.

  The lack of gravity worked wonders; they could effectively “swim” to exactly where they were needed. That would save them some energy; or, maybe a couple of percent on having to recharge later. Though Rex couldn’t help but look over to Bishop for approval. He could tell, of course, so he made her wait for it. Luckily this time his stare included a blink or two. “Well I wasn’t going to say it until it worked - but that is a pretty efficient idea, yes.” Rex couldn’t help but give a little wiggle of a happy dance at this - Bishop just shook his head at her. Sometimes she could get so happy at the tiniest of things. She was still a mystery to him by all accounts. But he liked that.

  She held her tongue for the first few minutes of work - because she actually thought she’d miscalculated - if they needed to remove panels and screws, they risked them soaring off out of reach; and if they were very unlucky, either screws lost, or further damage created they didn’t need to fix. This fear was soon abated when Rexanna realised that everything stayed firmly locked in even once unscrewed. Even those screws had a limit and didn’t come fully out of the plates. The only thing she really need to keep an eye on was her data pad; making sure she was fixing and rewiring all the right parts, before moving onto the next one. They kept a back-and-forth dialogue to ensure everything was covered. And other than that, no small talk passed between them. They stuck to task. Professional. It was probably the main reason they were allowed to go on so many of these colonisation - or ATMOS - missions together. Because work was work; and the relationship came after or between those moments. They knew how to keep things separate. So separate that there were still several newer marines that, even about a year or so into this one, hadn’t figured it out yet. They probably worked better together than most science and engineering teams in the entire Wey-Yu USCM roster. And, in this strictly professional way, they scaled themselves across their entire engineering fix.

***

After screwing her last panel into place Rexanna glanced over her shoulder. Bishop was studying the data pad - having long since finished his section (of course, he had precision and efficiency she didn’t). This would at least tell him if all systems were back to functioning. She waited… and waited… He looked up slowly, almost as if he didn’t know she was looking for the green light. “We’ll probably have to test it. But I would say everything looks nominal here.” He jabbed the pad with his index finger, “we at least fixed everything on the list.”

This was good enough for Rex! Who punched the air. They’d been up here a few hours at least; it had been more work than she initially expected. And they were working in Zero-G; not as easy as she’d hoped. Speaking of… now she was up here, she had less clue of how exactly to get back to the floor… If she asked Mother to reengage the gravity that presented the “all my weight at once” problem of before - likely not a slow process… Though then they could just abseil down… easy!

Bishop watched Rexanna look down to the bottom - the expression of concentration on her face that showed how her thought patterns were figuring their way out of this. “You know,” he spoke up, “I have a system that can engage artificial gravity. I could just float us down to the ground again.” “What?!” Rex’s eyes widened, “You do! Well that saves me a lot of hard thought!” She grinned. He pressed his lips together, thinking, “I mean you have to get to me, but, I’m sure you can manage that.” “Pretty sure I’ve been through hell and back and almost died that one time to finally get to you, so… yeah. A lack of gravity is not going to stop me!” Without warning Rex pushed herself off the wall - it didn’t have quite the desired speed; but she let her rope out enough to sail across the expanse to him. He’d at least pushed himself out to just about the middle of the room by that point anyway.

Realising there was very little to slow herself down now except Bishop, Rexanna latched herself to him; legs tangling with his and clinging to his shoulders. “Uhhhh-! Not sure this is quite what I had in mind-!” He was busy trying to balance both to not send them careering into a wall - but he chuckled; voice teasing. “Funny, because I was.” Rex’s eyes narrowed “Huh?” “I got you over here. And that was the plan.” The silence of her disbelief really said everything, “… The extent of your plan was… Did you just lie to me!?” It took a while for Bishop’s smile to crack, but once it did Rex knew she had absolutely been played. “Well…” One hand fell to her hip; and it brought back memories of the first time he’d teased her, “it wasn’t the extent of my plan. No.” “Oh? What was then?” Because no matter what; they did have to get down. So, he better have a way!

His smile was gentle, and he pressed his forehead back to hers, as he had in the hallway to calm her. “This…” His deep voice lowered to something gentle, not quite a whisper. Bishop closed the gap between them, lips to hers. Rex’s eyes closed on contact, hands tangling in his flight suit as she pulled him a little closer, savouring that contact. He kept her steady in their free float – the hand not on her hip supporting her back; running in soothing circles. He pulled away ever so slightly; but that was another tease, because he knew Rexanna wasn’t going to let him get away with it, before she pulled him in for a deeper one. Oh yeah, this was way better than getting to the ground. Rex was getting to experience a Zero-G kiss! (And how many people could say that, in honesty!?)

***

The next time they really got a quiet moment together was late into the evening, after having to fend off a million comments when Hicks decided to loudly proclaim that the last thing they’d been doing for the past three hours was fixing the ships systems, and the entire table decided to join in. If Rex had hoped anything would go that way this evening, by the time she’d made it back to their room she was exhausted.

They had finally made it down from the precarious situation of turning the gravity back on by Bishop having Rexanna continue to wrap her body around his and taking the full force of gravity and her weight by himself. After she suggested that might hurt, he came back with the cheeky quip of, “I’m used to it.” …She rather thought it might be the other way around, but wouldn’t argue.

In fact by the time she’d had enough of her crew mates and declared she was turning in for the night - which earned numerous pretty crude jeers (and several people swift smacks to the back of the head; not least Hicks for causing all this) - Bishop was already back to the room and settled. On a ship that was somehow even bigger than the Sulaco had been, and on their third such mission, Rexanna and Bishop had been afforded their own room. Small, pretty cramped, and not really enough for two people in one space without some tricky navigation – but still, theirs. Which at this point sure beat bunking with every other marine she knew.

Bishop looked up as the door slid open, she stepped inside with a blown-out breath and a shake of her head. “That good, huh?” “Dinner was dinner – you know what it’s like… it’s everyone else.” A small smile, “Oh. I can imagine your best friend was at his most helpful.” Rexanna’s laugh was almost pained, “You got it.”

“As for dinner, I could have made you some myself, but…” Bishop indicated to the state of himself – ports open and skin pulled back in several places. She was surprised that there was no sign of white circulation fluid everywhere. “Oh shit,” she sounded surprised, “when you said upgrades…” “Oh yes.” He nodded, “The company sent along some new data chips, as I said, so I thought they were worth installing.” “Mhm.” But this many? Wow. Rex wondered momentarily if that shipment had anything to do with her – and then thought she was better off not knowing. She approached the side of the bed, sitting gently so as not to jostle him. Sensing she had no more to say than that, and would be content with watching him, Bishop went back to installing the little chips – clicking them into place. Absentmindedly Rex’s fingers went to her necklace, twisting around the chess piece, and then her dog tags. With both these things was a very old data chip of his from when he had previously been fixed up on a mission. Tech that had become obsolete almost as soon as it was made. It would just have been destroyed otherwise – but there was something about this piece that felt too real to Rex. And too surreal as well; being a previous part of his memory core.

She pushed herself across the bed to him as inconspicuously as possible, folding her legs under herself. He’d continue on as normal, of course. Bishop didn’t have that horrible feeling any human did of being watched – and certainly wasn’t one to make any mistakes because of it. Rexanna had a sudden realisation, while watching him. Well – maybe not a realisation, maybe just a resurfacing of something she’d known for a long time, but had kept pushing down. Something she’d almost reached with her spiral earlier before he’d stopped her. But it was so out in the open now that it was unavoidable. She placed her hand gently on Bishop’s free arm, sliding it slowly to entwine their fingers. Even now there was something Rex quite liked about the difference in their skin tones; it never failed to surprise her just how pale he was in contrast to the darker tanned complexion she had. Rexanna realised that beneath that fairly superficial surface (literally), she was just contemplating her own mortality. And, in a strange way, his too. Eventually there would be no more upgrades – he’d be an old, obsolete, discontinued model. To her that almost seemed a worse fate than death. Did he care about things like that? Did he even think about them? Even with whatever agreement she had with Michael Bishop now – which would save him from being scrapped completely – at some point technology would advance so much it just wouldn’t be compatible. She’d would fight long and hard to make sure this wouldn’t happen. But what about after her? How would he cope after that? She’d age and die but Bishop never would. He was a collection of data chips: metal and plastic... No. That was wrong to say. Even if the truth. He was as human as she was – she’d spent the better part of their first mission together relaying that information. There was no debate in her mind at all that he was alive. But…

Bishop paused his working, glancing up to Rex watching him. Although realising that she wasn’t really watching him anymore – he’d lost her again, inside the void of thoughts within her head. He wasn’t sure why today of all days she was going through it. He knew it happened from time to time, but Rexanna didn’t often get this bad. “Ree…” He prompted gently, sounding a little more curious to know her wavelength. He wanted to affirm at least where she was heading. Whether he could bring her back or not. Her expression was almost one of puzzlement too, as she traced her eyes along the inner workings that were still visible, and the small pile of chips he still had to install. “That’s your heart and soul... what makes you, you... without that you-” He cut her off, now very aware that he was correct. All Bishop had managed to do earlier was pause the journey, but it was clear that the ship had left the space station and wouldn’t be back until it’s travels were complete. “Yes, but, it can all be replaced, I mean you’re wearing one, and I’m still the same as I was.” As much as he had a point, that didn’t feel the same to her. Around her neck was a fix out of necessity – he wouldn’t be here without it. This seemed like compliance. For the hell of it. Because technology just would not slow down… She almost laughed. Really, Rexanna was wrong – it was just a different kind of necessity. And at the end of it all, something she couldn’t do. She’d joked about her mind in an android body earlier – but to a point, she was envious that he could just upgrade or fix himself like this. It all seemed too easy. “And I’m just human... I... I’m not gonna last like...” Rex gasped. Seemingly out of nowhere she pulled back from him, placing a hand over mouth, before tears spiked. Bishop was quick to spring into action; snapping everything closed – this could wait. “Hey, hey... No... stop... why are you crying? Don’t- don’t think like that!” “Shit-!” Rex said again from behind her hand, “It’s just so hard!” He pulled her closer, fingertips gently brushing the remnants of the first tears from her cheeks, “This isn’t even something you have to acknowledge for years. Why is it all coming up now?” “Because I do have to think about it…” Her voice strained as she tried to stop herself from really crying hard. “I can’t be in the marines and doing this forever. I’m limited. And even if I can still work somewhere… you’ll remain out here. And that’s just the start of it-!” “You’re not limited… And…” He took a deep breath, encouraging Rex to imitate it, in an attempt to help calm her. “You’re nowhere near that. If anything, at least Earth will be safe for you.” His smile was a little crooked, “I know people say you shouldn’t live in the past but… somehow, Rex, you’ve managed to do the complete opposite.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, you’re living in the far future. And, while I admit it’s always good to look to the future… something tells me I’ve been neglecting to tell you to live in the moment.” He made a face for a second as if trying to recall, searching the room as if it had answers, “Or… someone has.” Rexanna groaned gently, burying her face in his chest, making Bishop wind his arms around her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly as she sniffed, “I’m an idiot.” “No, you just let your mind go wandering a little too far sometimes…” He held her closer, pulling the warmth of her body flush to his, “We can think about our mortality and live like that, sure. But, the truth is, neither of us know how long we have, so we have to make the most of this time. That's what matters!” His head tipped, recalling something else he’d read, “Medical advancements are happening all the time. We probably have at least another 100 years. So, you don’t have to worry about anything for minimum the next 99.” She laughed, which is what he wanted, rubbing her eyes – before shaking her head disbelievingly. Bishop didn’t really care if Rex believed him or not, he just wanted that smile back on her face. “Even if I had a hundred years to love you it wouldn’t be long enough.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s something we can both agree on.”

---

Thank you for reading! 😚💙

[starkstruck27]

TW: very brief mentions of suicide, and of course mentions of child abuse. Enjoy but please read with caution my friends.

Billy didn’t know if the urge to cry was coming from the fact that his dad had pulled him back in again, like a moth to a flame, or the fact that the man himself was lying in front of him dying. 

Either way, the urge was there, and Billy took a little bit of satisfaction from the fact that he was able to take deep breaths to steady himself and his dad couldn’t. He was dying of lung cancer, and didn’t have long, maybe a month left, at most. Most of the doctors estimated that he’d be gone within a week or two, though, so Billy finally made himself build up the courage to book himself a flight from Ocean City to Indianapolis and actually get on the plane. It’d been 15 years, and it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time had passed since he last saw his father. The bruises that’d been throbbing that day in 1988 were long gone, but as Billy stepped into the hospital room, his footsteps keeping time with the heart monitor and breathing machine, he could still feel them all over his body.

“I’ll let you have some privacy,” the nurse who’d escorted him back told him, smiling nicely and shutting the door as she left. Billy didn’t even thank her, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Even with his father confined to a hospital bed and too weak to move even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help but feel a little unsafe in a room alone with him. Still, he twisted the ring on his left hand, took a few deep breaths like his therapist had taught him, and approached his father.

“Hey, dad,” he said, still fiddling with his ring. He remembered the inscription inside of it and the man who wore the matching one, and that helped him relax a little.

“Billy?” His dad wheezed, his voice only coming out on a whisper. It was another thing that Billy took satisfaction in, the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, his dad would never be able to yell at him anymore.

“Yeah, it’s me. Not used to seeing me without a red mark on my face, huh?” Billy said, a sharp edge to his voice. He knew the man was dying and he knew that the comment was backhanded, but he didn’t care. He didn’t owe his dad anything, and especially not respect. Still, it made the knife in his heart twist a little when a look of guilty recognition came over his father’s face.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now,” his dad said, “But I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.”

Billy couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous that statement was.

“No you’re not,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And anyway, it wouldn’t even matter if you were, because I didn’t come here for that. I didn’t come here to forgive you or for your half-assed apologies so you could die with a clean conscience. I came here for me, because I deserve to be able to live knowing that at least if my father died thinking I was a disappointment, he was going to have all the facts straight, so shut the fuck up and listen.”

Billy’s heart was racing as he stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to give off the illusion of confidence even if he wasn’t entirely sure he was feeling it.

“First of all, I’ve been doing great for the past 15 years, so thanks for asking,” he said, flexing his fingers. “As soon as I got out of Hawkins, I went to college. I applied to UCLA, Penn State, West Virginia and the University of Phoenix. I ended up getting into all of them, so I went to UCLA and got a degree in Marine Biology. I graduated with a Masters degree at 26, and I started working on my doctorate a year or so ago. I got a great job with amazing colleagues, and I’m making more money in a month than you would make in a year. 

“I got therapy as soon as I started making enough to afford it, and I’m not completely healed yet, no one ever is, but I’m a lot better off than I used to be. I was able to figure out why I was so angry all the time and why I couldn’t ever let anyone else in even if I wanted to, and eventually I learned how to stop being that way. Which, I’m glad I did, because if I hadn’t, I would’ve ruined one of the best things that ever happened to me before it even truly got started. 

“When I left Hawkins, I didn’t leave alone. My best friend in the entire world came with me, because he also wanted to get out from under his father’s thumb. Steve and I moved to California and lived out of a motel for a few weeks until he could get a job and save enough for us to afford a place. I had just started college and things were rough at first, but I was able to start therapy when Steve and I started fighting more and more. I was so afraid he was going to leave me behind and go off on his own, but he saw that I was putting forth an effort, so he stuck by my side. And every day I’m more grateful that he did, because once I was able to see my therapist for about a year, I had improved enough to finally be honest with myself and with him, and I came clean when he took me out to celebrate one year of being on our own. 

“He asked how therapy was going over dinner and I told him that I was doing good, and that I was finally gonna stop lying, and I told him that I was gay. And he just looked at me with these big soft eyes and a sympathetic little smile and told me that he was glad I told him, but he had already kind of figured that out. Then he told me that he didn’t care at all and that it didn’t change the way he viewed me at all, because he cared about me no matter what. And I knew he would probably react like that, because his best friend Robin is gay, and he’s known since the summer of ‘85, and they’re still practically attached at the hip to this day, but I was still worried. Then I told him that there was more, and I said that I had been falling in love with him from the first moment I met him, and it took me a while to be able to admit that to even myself, but now I had, and I wanted him to know, too. 

“And when he told me he felt the same way, I nearly fell out of my chair. I could’ve sworn he was straight and I told him as much, but he just shrugged and said that he didn’t love me for what kind of body I had, he loved me for the person I was and was continuing to become. And I cried right there in front of the entire restaurant, because I never thought that anyone could love me just because I’m me.”

Billy paused and took a breath. He was still close to crying, and his voice was getting wavery and thick, but he cleared it and took a deep breath, getting ready to continue on. He looked at his father for a moment before he did, and was met with a face of stone. He had no expression on whatsoever, so Billy just let out the breath he was holding and kept going.

“It was another year and a half of just being together before he finally asked me to marry him. It was on Halloween, because that was the first time we met 6 years prior, at a stupid Halloween party my junior year. I remembered that party, because the first time I met him, he was with his girlfriend at the time, and this asshole we had both been friends with at one point wanted me to go over and brag to him about being the new keg king, but as soon as I saw his face, I stopped dead in my tracks and I could barely speak. It was kind of awkward, because I couldn’t think of anything to say to him and when I was silent for a few seconds, he ran off after his girlfriend who had slipped away and that was that. And then later that evening, his girlfriend broke up with him, and he was sulking outside, so I finally got up the nerve to go talk to him. It wasn’t right away, but we became friends, and we’ve stuck together ever since. He told me that that’s why he picked that night to propose to me, and before he could even finish asking the question, I was already crying and saying yes. 

“I kissed him and he put the ring on my finger, but not before he showed me the inscription he had gotten on the inside of it. It said ‘Yeah I wanna marry you, don’t cream your pants’, because that’d been one of our inside jokes from the beginning, and he thought it would make me laugh. And it did, but not before I cried over it, because even though it was a stupid line, just the fact that he thought that much about it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. We got married a few months later in a discreet little church somewhere in LA, and it was one of the best days of my life. My friends from college were there, Robin was Steve’s best man, and she’d even managed to get the word out to a few people back in Hawkins that we were getting married and surprised us by having them in the audience when we walked into the church. 

“Remember that road trip Max went on with her best friend El in 1990? Well, that’s where she was, a little hole-in-the-wall church in Southern California, watching her former babysitter and her older brother tie the knot. When I saw her in the front row in her light blue pant-suit, her hair up in a perfect ballerina bun on her head and smiling like the sun, I burst into tears. She looked so grown up, and I couldn’t even believe she was there. We hadn’t done a huge reception afterwards, but we did have a little something, and Steve and I were only really going to do the couple’s dance at first because his mom wasn’t going to make it and I didn’t have anyone to dance with either, but we did end up doing them. He danced with Robin and I danced with Max, and then we danced together, and neither one of us could keep it together. I can still remember the way Steve bawled when Max and all her friends made him take a picture with them, because he hadn’t seen them in a few years and when they were all gathered around him, he said he felt like no time had passed, even though it clearly had. Then Max and El pulled me into the picture, and Steve kissed me, and the kids all made faces like they were grossed out about it. That picture is still framed in our living room.”

Billy could hear his own voice getting more squeaky and uneven as he began to cry, but he made himself hold it together. He had to get through this, because goddammit, after everything his father had put him through, he was going to know damn well that it didn’t defeat Billy. He was going to have to listen to every good thing that’d happened to him and he was going to have to face up to the fact that no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t break Billy down, at least not permanently.

“We were married for two years before Steve started to bring up the topic of starting a family. I had just gotten my Bachelor’s degree and was getting ready to start my Masters, but we had decided to get a little drunk as a celebration and he asked me if I ever thought about maybe having kids. I knew he always wanted kids, but I wasn’t so sure. I told him I used to want kids more than anything when I was little and Mom was still around, but once she left, I wasn’t so sure, so we decided to table the discussion for now and talk again when we were sober. He brought it up again at dinner two nights later, and told me he’d always dreamed of having six kids, three girls, three boys, and that he still wanted that, but only if I did, too. And I could never say no to him, especially not when he was giving me that look, so I said that maybe we could just start with one and see how it went. He lit up like a firefly when I said that, and immediately started looking into the different options. 

“It was hard, though. Most adoption agencies didn’t want to deal with us because we were both men, and finding a good surrogate took a lot of money that we just didn’t have at that point. It was killing me, both because Steve was so disappointed and because now that we’d finally talked and figured things out, I wanted a kid as much as he did. But then, just when all hope seemed lost, Robin paid us a visit and said that she might be able to help us. She was going to college at that point, too, and she knew a girl from one of her classes that was pregnant, but was thinking about terminating the pregnancy because she just didn’t want kids, she never had. She just wanted a career and to marry her boyfriend, and he felt the same, so she was weighing her options and thought aborting was the best way to go. 

“But then Robin stepped in and asked if she would consider having the baby and putting it up for adoption, and the girl, her name was Lindsay, said that if she were sure her baby would go to a good home she might consider it, but the foster care and adoption systems weren’t great and she didn’t want her baby to go through that. Robin told her about us and how we wanted to start a family, and Lindsay and her boyfriend agreed to meet us and see what they thought. They ended up liking us, and Lindsay said that she’d help us out. Steve and I were both over the moon about it, and over the next few months, we did everything we could to get ready for it. And finally, on a warm April afternoon, I got out of class to find Steve waiting for me, telling me that Lindsay had checked into the hospital a half hour before and that she was waiting for us. 

“It didn’t take too terribly long, only maybe five hours, but it felt like years had passed as we sat holding hands in the waiting room chairs. Neither of us moved from the moment they shooed us out of the delivery room until a nurse came out and told us that Lindsay was resting and our baby was being cleaned up and weighed. She told us on the way back to Lindsay’s room that the baby was perfectly healthy so far, and that they’d need to run some tests and give her her vaccines, but that she was okay so far. Steve was just relieved that she was okay, but then I turned to him and smiled and said, ‘did you hear what she said?’ And he didn’t get it at first, but then I said ‘she said she. We have a daughter,’ and Steve just stared at me. Then he started crying, and I had to hold him before we could go in and see Lindsay because he was crying so hard. 

“When he finally calmed down, we went inside and Lindsay hugged us both and we shook hands with her boyfriend and we talked for a little until a nurse came in wheeling a little bassinette. She asked who wanted to hold her first and Lindsay looked at us, and I let Steve hold her first because he’d wanted this for a lot longer than I had. He held her and he looked at her and he kissed her head and I swear I’ve never before felt anything like I had in that moment, because a minute ago I was a new father, but it was like an abstract concept, and then when I looked at Steve holding our daughter, looking at her like she’d hung the sun, the moon and every one of the stars, it was like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I was willing to jump in front of a train or off a cliff or get eaten by a shark if it meant the two of them, but especially my little girl, would be safe and happy. 

“And then, after a few minutes, Steve looked at me, and he asked if I wanted to hold her. And suddenly, I was stiff as a board and spacing out, because all that love and devotion I’d been feeling a second before were overshadowed and drowned out by this crippling, paralyzing fear. From what Steve’s told me, I went white as a sheet and started shaking like a leaf in the wind, and he said that all the life drained out of my eyes as I clenched my fists. He had to hand our baby to Lindsay for a minute, because he was worried about me, and he said he had to practically carry me to the little bathroom attached to the room so we could talk privately. He said in all that time, he didn’t even see me blink. I don’t remember much of this, I only remember him flicking water from the sink in my face to get me to come back to him, and he asked what’d happened.

“And then I remember I collapsed to the floor, and I didn’t cry, but I still shook like I’d gotten electrocuted. And when he sat down next to me and held my hand, I finally told him that it hadn’t quite felt real until that moment. But then he had tried to hand me the baby, and when I saw her tiny, fragile body and remembered that I was the one who was going to have to take care of her and keep her safe from then on, I just froze. I told him that I was afraid of her, which was stupid, right? Because she can’t do anything to me, she can barely even open her eyes yet, but yet she terrified me more than anything else in the world, because if she ends up fucked up, that’s our fault, and while I didn’t think Steve would be able to fuck her up, I definitely could. And he said that he didn’t believe that, and he said ‘you’re not going to turn out like your father’. And I swear to God, I almost socked him right in the face for that.

“But I didn’t, because somehow, without me saying a single word, he knew exactly why I was so fucking scared of someone who only weighed five and a half pounds. And once he said it, I was able to realize that that was what I was so scared of. I didn’t want to hold her because I was afraid I would get the urge to hit her for no reason. I was afraid I would start getting itchy because I couldn’t scream at her with other people in the room. I was afraid she would start to cry, and when I couldn’t get her under control, I’d just leave her for someone else to deal with, or even just to her own devices. I was afraid that if I would hold her and know that she’s mine, I would stop loving her and instead of seeing her as a blessing, I’d see her as a burden, and I wouldn’t want to take care of her. And I was horrified with myself for thinking that I would turn into you, but was even more horrified at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to control if I was or not. It scared me shitless that one day I might be sending my daughter to school with a black eye and fractured ribs because she forgot to put the dishes away before going to bed, or that she might not be able to take as much as I did and I might come home to find her limp body on the floor with a note telling me to go fuck myself, and I might not even care about it other than the fact that now I’d have to deal with what to do next.

“But for as scared as all those thoughts made me, I knew they were just that: intrusive thoughts. Because Steve had never lied to me once, never, in all the years I’d known him, and I knew that if he had a hunch about something, he was almost always right about it. And if he believed that I could be different, that I could be the dad I had always hoped for and wanted to be, then he was probably right about that, too. He told me that he knew from the look I got when I reiterated that we had a daughter out in the hall that I already loved her more than anything, and that I would never hurt her for anything in the whole wide world. Then he stood up, and he helped me up, too, and after helping me breathe more normally, he led me out of the bathroom.

“Lindsay smiled as we walked out and asked if everything was alright, and Steve told her it was just last minute anxiety, but that I was fine. And you know what, dad? I was. Because I knew that I was nothing like you, and that alone is what made me reach out and take our daughter from Lindsay’s arms, because I wanted to prove to myself that I was right.”

Billy was fully crying now, tears running down his cheeks in rivers, a constant flow that dripped from his chin and fell onto his jeans, his shoes, the floor. His nose was running a little bit and his throat was scratchy and his head was beginning to ache a little bit, but he didn’t care. He had come this far, and he was going to keep going until he’d said everything, aired every grievance he’d had to deal with and told him how he’d overcome them.

“Right after I picked her up, a nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She said that it was the birth certificate, and that everything was filled out except for our baby’s name. She looked at me, I guess because I was holding her, but I was too busy being happy that none of those terrible thoughts I’d had earlier were coming true and watching my daughter watch me to notice, so Steve said it. It’d taken us months to decide on what name we would go with depending on if it was a boy or a girl, but once we had them, we knew. I remember, in the early stages, when we would just toss names around, Steve had suggested something like ‘Lassie’ for a girl, and I almost smacked him upside the head. But then I was reading my textbook for class one night and saw one of the editor’s names, and I said to him, ‘what about Talia?’ And that was it. we decided that her middle name was going to be Ruth, after Steve’s grandmother, and it just had a nice ring to it.

“I remember when we got the official certificate a few days later, and I saw Talia Ruth Harrington written on paper for the first time. The way Steve tells it, I almost fainted, but I don’t remember that. All I remember is how the paper trembled, because when I held it, my hands were shaking. They did that every single time I held one of my kids’ birth certificates for the first time, and they’re going to do it again in a few months when our next baby is born. She’ll be number six, because Steve and I are both crazy, but me even more so, because I finally gave in and told him nothing would make me happier than to give him his dream family. And so far, I have.

“After Talia was born, I finished up my degree and started looking around for good jobs. I was open to anything, no matter where it was, and because our apartment was too small now that Talia was starting to grow more, we had to move anyway. We saved up as much as we could, and by the time Talia had turned one, we had a plan. I found a job at a small marine institute just outside of Ocean City, Maryland, and we decided to move there. We found a nice, three bedroom house about a ten minute walk from the beach for a reasonable price, and we bought it. We had only been moved in for about a month when Steve started teasing me about what we should do with the extra bedroom, and I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted to wait until we saved up a little bit more and until Talia was a little older. He agreed with me on that, and for another year, we did our best to raise our daughter and earn enough money to start thinking about another kid. Steve even got a job at a local daycare to help make ends meet and to make sure Talia was well cared for during the day while I was at work.

“And then, as luck would have it, just as we became financially stable and as Talia started to become more independent, we got our wish. Steve was opening up the daycare one day, and as he approached the door, he heard something from behind one of the fences. His coworker had just shown up, so he asked her to take Talia inside and he went to investigate, and the first thing he did when he found out what it was was open his cell phone and call me. He said he’d found a baby, no older than a month, wrapped in a blanket and just left there behind the fence with a note. It said ‘I can’t give my baby a good home, and I don’t know what to do. I figured someone here might. She’s healthy and has all her shots. Her birthday is August 5th, 1995.’ And that was it.

“Steve said that he was going to call the proper authorities, but he suggested that maybe we could take in the baby. He said we were thinking about it anyway and it couldn’t be a coincidence that another baby had just fallen into our laps like that, and I said that as long as it was a legal adoption, I’d be on board with it. It took a few months, a lot of money and entirely too much paperwork, but finally, we were given our second daughter. Because the mother had never named her, she had been dubbed Baby Doe by the court system up until that point, but once we were legally her parents, we got to name her. We went with Violet Frances Harrington, and then we were settled again for another few years.

“But Steve always wanted an even number of kids, and an even ratio of boys to girls, so once we got Violet settled and we were able to find a bigger house, we decided to go for baby number 3. It was 1997 at this point, and even though we were thinking about selling the old house before we had more kids, once again, fate stepped in. We hadn’t found a new place just yet, and we were toying around with the idea of either converting the attic or basement to a room or splitting the bigger of the girl’s bedrooms in half to make another when the adoption agency we went through called us. They said that they might have something for us, and asked if we wanted to come down and speak with them in person. We said we would, and the next day, we were sitting in an office when the lady who called us  walked in and handed us two pictures.

“She said that a few days ago, a mother came in and gave her two sons up for adoption. She was young, probably in college or even high school, but she said she just wasn’t ready to be a mother and she wanted her babies to have a good home. The lady said that she’d called the list of potential parents, but none of them really wanted twins, so she eventually got to us. She said we could take some time to talk about it if we wanted, and then she left the room, and as soon as she did, I looked at Steve. 

“I could tell from the smile on his face that he was already sold, and he told me that we should totally do it, because then it would even things up and we wouldn’t even need to get a new place or renovate ours, because then the girls could room together and the boys could take the other room. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was already in love with the boys, and I was too, so instead of answering him, I just went to the door and told the lady we’d be happy to take them in. She smiled and helped us fill out the necessary paperwork, and even though the boys already had names, she said we could change them if we wanted. We’d already had our hearts set on either Nathan or Gavin for our first boy, so we made those their first names, but we hadn’t decided on middle names yet, so we just gave them the names their mother had. And just like that, Nathan Jay Harrington and Gavin Anthony Harrington were joining our not-so-little-anymore family.

“After that, we were content for a while. I started thinking about getting my doctorate, Steve had moved up the ranks until he was practically running the daycare, and our kids continued to grow faster than we could keep up with. Before we knew it, Talia was starting school, Violet was learning to ride a bike, and the boys were curious about any and everything under the sun. Our house began to feel a little small, though, so we started looking around for a bigger place. We finally found one, a seaside mansion that was almost too much, but we made it work. I remember we told the kids Santa might not bring as many presents that year because he couldn’t make them fast enough. Really, Steve and I just couldn’t afford as many presents as we usually got them, but come Christmas morning, we had found a way to spoil them even though we barely had a dollar to our names. Anyway, the house was huge, and even though it only had four real bedrooms, the twins still wanted to share and there were a few extra rooms in the basement and main floor, so we figured if we had any more kids or the twins decided they wanted to separate, we could just use one of them. 

“And after we’d been in the house for about a year, Steve started getting baby fever again. This was the first time we’d ever tried looking into the foster care system instead of adoption agencies or surrogates. We were just looking around at that point, not really deciding anything, Steve was just antsy and looking for the hell of it, but then he asked me one night as we were going to bed if I would want to foster this little boy he’d found when he was just looking around for fun. He said that he was about a year old, could already walk, and was able to say simple words. He knew I was a little baby-d out at that point, so he said this time we wouldn’t have to start from scratch, we would just be picking up at an easier point. The twins were 4 by then, Violet was 6 and Talia was 8, so he said they could all start helping out around the house a little more and they would be able to help with the boy if we needed them to. And because I can’t say no to him and he did make a good point, I said I’d think about it. He obviously knew I meant yes, so a couple weeks later, we brought him home. We had only had him for about two days when Steve and the kids all practically begged me to adopt him.

“He already had a name, which was fine by us, because we didn’t really have anything in mind when Steve had started looking around, but I still got that same shaky, fluttery feeling when I first saw Leo Matthew Harrington printed on the birth certificate in my hands. All the kids had been with us that day when we went to the courthouse, and as soon as we showed them the piece of paper and told them that it meant Leo was officially their brother, they all started cheering at the top of their lungs. We got a dirty look from the receptionist, but Steve and I couldn’t help but laugh. Even Leo started squealing and shrieking with joy, and since it was a sunny Saturday in May, we took the kids to the boardwalk to get ice cream.”

Billy was still crying, but now he wiped his eyes and walked around the side of the bed, and sat in the chair at his father’s bedside after taking out his wallet. He opened it and thumbed through it, eventually finding what he was looking for and holding it up in front of his father’s face. It was a picture, taken just a few months ago, on the beach right outside their house. He couldn’t remember who had taken it, probably some couple or kid walking by, but he remembered how happy he was in that moment.

“This is my family,” he said, the tears coming back with twice as much force and his voice beginning to wobble even more. “The man sitting next to me is my husband. The little girl behind us with the black hair and beige colored skin and almond eyes is Talia. The little black girl sitting next to me with the heart shaped sunglasses is Violet. They’re my daughters.” He paused again, wiping his nose as his voice broke and he took a breath to steady himself. “The little boy next to Steve with the blue glasses and red hair is Leo, and the two blond boys on our laps are the twins. Nathan is on my lap and Gavin is on Steve’s, and I can tell them apart because Gavin only smiles with his teeth and Nathan only smiles with his lips. They’re my sons.”

His father lifted a shaky hand to try and take the picture, but Billy held it out of his reach. It was too precious to him to even think about letting his dad hold it, especially since he couldn’t really respond this whole time and he didn’t know if he would, like, rip it up or something. He didn’t want to risk it. It was too important to him. 

“In a few weeks, I’m going to get to hold my third baby girl. Her name is going to be Samantha Christie Harrington. From what we can guess, we assume she’s going to have pale skin and brown hair. We don’t know if her eyes are going to be blue or brown, or even hazel. We don’t know if she’s going to be born healthy, although we’re praying that she will, and we don’t know when her birthday is going to be or at what time she’ll be born. But we do know that the girls are ecstatic about getting a little sister, and the boys are excited for Aunt Max and Uncle Lucas to stay over with them while we’re at the hospital. We know that no matter what this child looks, acts, or is like, we’re going to love her just as much as we love all the rest of them. And we know that we’re ready and able to do that, because we’ve already done it five times before, no matter how scared we were or how tired or how uncertain we were.”

“Billy, I-” his father tried to get a word in, but Billy wasn’t having it. 

“No, you shut the fuck up, I’m not finished!” He bordered on yelling, but he made himself regain control. He slipped the picture back into his wallet and put it back into his pocket, just trying to busy himself until he could be sure he wasn’t going to lash out again. His father was silent the entire time.

“Listen, dad, I didn’t come here to yell. I didn’t come here to get angry or to get an apology or even an explanation, I’m past all that shit. I came here because I heard you were dying, and despite how much shit you put me through, I couldn’t make myself hate you enough to just ignore that. I also can’t make myself love you enough not to come and forgive you and let you meet your grandchildren and your son-in-law. And as much as it kills me, I can’t make myself stop loving you no matter how hard I try, and I fucking try. But you were the only one who stayed. When Mom split, when Grandma died, when Uncle Jerry went to prison. You could’ve tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage since there was no one else around to give a damn, but you stayed. You put food in my stomach and you kept clothes on my back and, I don’t know, maybe deep down inside you, you really were just trying to make me become a better person, and I can’t hate you for that. But somewhere along the way, your wires got crossed, and you took it too far. You had this... this rage inside you and for some reason, you thought the best person to take it out on was your pre-teen son. And then I guess something broke inside you, because it seemed like you started to actively look for things to justify one more punch, one more insult, one more punishment. First it was because I wasn’t into sports like you were and I couldn’t hit a baseball to save my life. Then it was because I was queer, and having a faggot for a son wasn’t “right”. Then it was because of the music I liked, or the jewelry, or the people I hung out with or the grades I had. Nothing was ever good enough for you, I was never good enough for you.”

Billy paused again. He needed to wrap this up. He hadn’t even packed an overnight bag, just a few things to keep him occupied on the plane rides there and back. So he sucked in another breath and he sat up straight, and for the first time since he’d gotten the phone call that his dad was dying, he felt the weight lifting off of his chest.

“But I don’t need to be good enough for you anymore, and I know that now. It took a long time and a lot of therapy, but I know it. Now I know that I’m good enough to be another person’s entire world, so much so that they put a ring on my finger to make sure I’d be with them until we’re old and gray. We have bad days, we’re not perfect, we fight, but at the end of the day I’m good enough to man up and tell him I’m sorry and I want to make things right because I love him. I’m good enough to sit on the boardwalk with my Violet and throw bread at seagulls, and I’m good enough to walk around looking for seashells with my Talia while she tells me about the really cute boy that smiled at her in class. I’m good enough to play dinosaurs with Nathan with one hand and color with Gavin in one of his coloring books with the other, and I’m good enough to sing Leo to sleep when nothing else will even make him doze. I’m good enough to make amends with the people I’ve hurt because I actually want to, and not just because I’m on my deathbed and I want a better chance at getting into Heaven. And I’m good enough to hold my Samantha for the first time and tell her how much I love her and mean it. And I did all that by myself, because I wanted to prove that I was better than you, and that I would always be better than you, because you made my life hell and I’m still dealing with the aftermath. Every day it’s a struggle, but I know that I’m going to come out on top, because the hard part is over. I’m already out of your clutches. And I’m not going to take that or anything that’s resulted from me getting away for granted, because it’s too important to me.”

Billy stood up, wiped away the last of his tears with his jacket, and cleared his throat again as he headed for the door. He opened it and was planning on just walking right out and not stopping until he was in a car and headed for the airport, but something made him stop. He stared out into the blinding white hallway of the hospital for a second, and finally turned one more time to face the man on the bed. He didn’t owe him anything. But he had already bared his heart and soul to him, what was two more words?

“Goodbye, Neil,” he said. 

And with that, he was gone.

*************************************************************

Billy had gotten home the same night he left, albeit very late at night. He was more tired than he had ever been before, and he wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower and to curl up beside Steve in bed. But after the day he’d had, he couldn’t just do that. Something was still tugging in his guts, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way he’d left things with Neil or if it was because he hadn’t eaten anything that day except for the little snack packets the flight attendants had given him and a snickers bar from the hospital vending machine that was probably as old as some of the patients. Either way, he was too tired to deal with it, so he just went inside, got his hot shower, and put on his pajamas before crawling under the covers with Steve. He was lying on his side with his back to Billy, so he shifted until their bodies were perfectly in line and he wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck. He only sat up a little bit when he felt a smaller body on the other side of Steve, only to find Leo curled up against Steve’s chest.

“You gotta make me a recording of you singing for the next time you’re out of town,” Steve mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “This was the only way I could get him to even close his eyes.”

Billy’s heart melted in his chest as he said it, and it only turned further into goop when Steve turned his head and craned his neck to give him a kiss before snuggling back into the covers. And as Billy settled in with him, his arms around both his husband and his son, the tugging feeling in his gut finally stopped.

*************************************************************

Three days later, he got the phone call from the hospital that Neil was dead.

It’d been a busy Thursday morning in July, and while he and Steve were running around trying to get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door for daycare, the phone rang. Billy was using one hand to wipe the maple syrup from Gavin’s face the the other to help Violet with her hair, and he couldn’t tell you what Steve was doing for a million dollars, so he didn’t even know the phone had been ringing until Talia walked over and handed it to him.

“It’s for you, daddy,” she said, then walked away to do whatever she’d been doing before. Billy had finally gotten the syrup of Gavin’s face and Violet was satisfied with her hair, so Billy stood up and took the cordless phone into a different room so he could hear better.

It was the nurses at the hospital. They said that they were sorry for his loss and that Neil had passed away that morning. They told him that he was the only one Neil had listed as next of kin, and that they would hold the body until arrangements could be made for his funeral. Then they offered their condolences and told him that he could call back at the number they gave whenever the arrangements had been made. Billy had gone on auto-pilot when he thanked them, and when he hung up, his chest felt hollow. He wasn’t happy or sad or angry or even relieved, no, he just felt numb.

He didn’t want to make the damn funeral arrangements. He didn’t want to have to explain to his kids that the man who’s body they were seeing being lowered into the ground was their grandfather, but they never met him because he hurt their daddy and would’ve probably hurt them, too if he’d ever been given the chance. He didn’t want his father to be dead, but he didn’t know if he was upset about it either. He was too confused and he didn’t know what to feel, but he still felt like he was about to burst with something, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

He took the handheld phone and hurled it at the wall as he let out a deep, animalistic howl of a yell, and crumbled to the floor with his head down and his shoulders hunched to try and keep it all under control. His ears were ringing, so he didn’t hear the six sets of footsteps running towards him from the kitchen until he felt one pair of arms wrap around him gently.

“Hey, Billy, what’s wrong? What happened?” Steve asked, tapping a beat on Billy’s shoulder to help him regulate his breathing, a trick he’d learned years ago and still remembered even though he rarely had to use it anymore.

“That was the hospital,” he said, choking out the words. “He’s dead, Stevie.”

“Who’s dead?” Nathan asked, his blue eyes big and round with questioning.

“Just... somebody that daddy used to know,” Steve said, hoping that that was the right answer. Billy would’ve told him if it wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything now, and neither Nathan nor any of their other kids questioned any further. Instead, they gathered around their father, all piling on top of him to give him kisses and hugs and tell him they loved him. Billy felt like a volcano, but only after the eruption, like his little outburst had been the hard part and now, with the help of his family, the magma was settling and the lava was cooling down into solid rock. He wrapped his arms around all of his kids in the most awkward group hug in the history of group hugs, but not one of them cared. It helped Billy to calm down, and that’s what was important.

*************************************************************

A week after the call from the hospital, the phone rang again, and again, Talia was the one to answer. The handheld had been pieced back together with Steve’s nimble hands and half a roll of masking tape, but it would do for now. Billy still felt bad for breaking the phone, but he’d stopped apologizing for it when Steve told him that if he did it again, he’d break it worse so that he would stop. It was a joke, obviously, but it worked, and Billy had stopped apologizing for it.

They hadn’t had a funeral. Not a real one, at least. Steve had taken the kids again and Billy headed out to Indianapolis again, having to stay overnight this time, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t felt much of anything since the call, and was kind of distant for a few days, but he hoped that once his dad’s body was in the ground and he was back home, he would be okay. He just needed time to process.

Steve and the kids were giving him all the time he needed, the kids making sure they were on their best behavior and Steve doing anything he could to make sure Billy was alright. He’d talked to his therapist and was able to work through it a little bit, but the things Steve and the kids were doing were helping, and he was grateful for it. 

He’d only stayed in Indianapolis for two days, one to pick out the casket and set things into motion, and the other to make sure they actually got him in the ground. He didn’t even wait for the headstone to be carved, instead just told them to make sure he got one and that would be that before heading for home once again. Steve and the kids had all run up to him to hug him as soon as he stepped in the door, and, per his request, they all sat on the beach that night and fed the seagulls as they watched the sunset. None of them spoke much, they just sat, but they were all perfectly okay with that. And the next day, Billy started to act like himself again, a little at a time.

Now, he was almost completely back to normal. His head still felt a little heavy, but it was mostly gone, and he didn’t even think twice when Talia handed him the phone and said, “It’s for you, daddy.”

It was the hospital again, but this time, it was much closer to home. Georgia, the lady who was carrying their baby, had just gone into labor and had  checked into the hospital. Billy nearly threw the phone again in his rush to get to Steve and tell him the news.

Samantha had decided that she was going to come out a week early, so Billy and Steve had to wrangle five children into their mini-van by themselves as Billy called Max. She and Lucas lived in Pennsylvania, so they were going to be a little while, but Max said she was already leaving work and that they’d be there as soon as they could to get the kids. Billy thanked her and told her which hospital they were going to, then hung up as Steve drove through the town. 

When they got there, Steve went to check on Georgia, and Billy stayed in the waiting room with the kids. It was just beginning to get dark out, Leo should’ve already been in bed, but Billy was too jittery to worry about that now. An hour and a half later, Max and Lucas showed up, both hugging him and Steve and saying congratulations before swapping keys with Steve and taking the kids back to the van to head back home. Steve walked them to the elevator and then returned to Billy’s side, holding his hand like he always did and pretending he wasn’t just as nervous until a few hours later, when the nurse finally came out and told them to follow her. 

Georgia was asleep by the time they got into the room, but her husband was awake, still holding her hand. He used his other one to shake with Billy and Steve and congratulate them, and finally, the nurse came in with Samantha. 

At this point, it was tradition to let Steve hold her first. She was asleep, or at least she looked it, as Steve picked her up, but as soon as he put his hand underneath her head, her eyes opened up and she began to cry. Steve tried to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work, and her little face got red as she continued to scream. It woke Georgia up and she tried to calm her down, but even she couldn’t do anything to quiet the baby. 

But this girl had a set of pipes on her, and finally, she had screamed so loud and so long that it was almost excruciating to listen to. Steve took her back from Georgia and tried again, but it was useless, and he sighed.

“Here, Bill, you try and calm her down. Nothing we’re doing seems to be working,” he said, and handed Samantha off to Billy. 

As soon as he had her tiny body cradled in his arms, the baby stopped crying. It was almost instantaneous, and even though her face was still a little red and blotchy, she blinked her big eyes up at him and smiled. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around Billy’s waist. “Glad to know she’s already chosen her favorite parent.”

Billy wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t think about much of anything else at the moment except his daughter’s big, dark eyes boring into his. He smiled at her and rubbed her belly with his finger, making her gurgle and coo in response. She took her own tiny hand and raised it just enough to grab onto Billy’s finger, holding it with an iron grip. Or, at least the newborn equivalent of an iron grip. 

She continued to stare into his eyes and hold onto him for a long time, but after a while, her grip weakened and her eyes slipped closed. As she fell asleep in Billy’s arms, Steve came back over from making small talk with Georgia and her husband. Georgia was exhausted, and frankly, so was her husband, and they had begun to fall asleep again as well, leaving Billy and Steve as the only ones awake. Billy was still just staring at Samantha, though, and only noticed Steve by his side when he nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arm around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “You doing okay?”

And when Billy thought about it, he found that he really, really was.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ve never been more okay in my entire life.”

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2023

Day 07: Matches

2023

It's nothing short of a miracle that Maria notices the power cut in the first place, considering she has been trying to meditate in the half-dark of the summer night. Maybe it is the particular mindfulness which allows her to sense that something has changed – the small fridge has stopped humming, instead there is the muffled sound of chaos in the distance. When she goes to pick up her phone, the charging light has stopped blinking at 87%.

She quickly checks her notifications. It’s all over BBC News, of course. The facilities team have sent an e-mail asking to remain calm, the emergency power supply shall be provided soon, etc. A short You alright in L? from Ben, which she marks with a thumbs-up emoji. Three more messages from – oh, this guy again. Has she not been clear about her disinterest in someone who makes hating cats their entire personality? She rolls her eyes, blocks him, and deletes Tinder from her phone entirely, saving her phone a bit of battery and herself some nerves.

A knock distracts her from her annoyance. She makes her way over to the door in the flickering candlelight and opens it by a few inches.

“Hi.” The person in the hallway fumbles with their phone for a moment before they turn on the flashlight. “Sorry, that probably still looks creepy. Uh, I’m Robin, I moved into 405 last week –”

He points at the door diagonally opposite Maria’s. “I’m sorry for knocking at this time of night, but I wanted to ask if you have a spare charger or something? My phone battery is really low, and I can’t see shit in my flat – or a lighter, maybe? I know we’re not supposed to have open fire in the rooms, but…”

Maria suppresses a grin and opens the door a bit wider. Robin stops waffling and looks over her shoulder. She can see the lights turning on in his head, so to speak.

“You have candles!”

“Don’t tell the RA.”

“I won’t if you’re willing to share.” His wink looks a bit creepy in the phone’s flashlight, too, but his tone is playful, and she hasn’t got any other plans for tonight, so she might as well play along.

“Blackmail? Very classy.”

He tilts his head. “Please?”

Maria wasn’t about to let him die in the dark, anyways. “Wait here, I’ll get you some.”

She doesn’t close her door but he makes no attempt to come inside. Very polite. She arranges a handful of tea lights on a plate, lights some of them, and places the matchbox on the rim.

“Here.” She holds out the plate to him. “I don’t have a lighter, but I have matches. Although I haven’t had much luck with those recently.”

She wants to swallow the last sentence back into her stomach the second she says it. What on earth? That is really none of Robin’s business, and also probably some of the worst self-deprecating flirting she has ever witnessed, coming from herself or any other person.

He laughs, takes the plate from her, and switches off his phone. “Tell me about it. It’s just difficult to find decent…tinder these days.”

He waggles – actually waggles his eyebrows, in the most ridiculously exaggerated way possible, and Maria can’t help but laugh, too.

“I’m Maria, by the way,” she introduces herself, a bit late. “Good luck with these, then.”

“Thanks.” Robin’s grin turns softer, more genuine. The flickering candlelight does his cheekbones and the curly hair a wonderful favour. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it.” She does an awkward little half-wave, and he raises the plate in an answering gesture, and then Robin turns and goes back to his room.

Closing her door against the now dark hallway, Maria allows herself one more amused grin before she shakes her head and calls it a day.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

On Friday afternoon, there is another knock at her door. Somehow, she immediately knows who it is – the power is back, after all, the doorbells are working just fine, why would anyone knock?

Robin’s face is more handsome in the gold and orange evening light streaming in through the window at the far end of the hallway. His eyes flicker down to her chest, and Maria almost scolds him before she remembers that she is wearing her locket. It’s old, but it’s pretty, and very noticeable, and to his credit, Robin immediately looks back into her eyes.

“Heya,” he says.

“Hi.”

They smile at each other for a moment, unsure of how this might go, before Robin moves and says, “I wanted to say thanks, for the other night, and –”

He turns his head. Someone is coming up the stairs, a group of people, one voice more prominent than the others – Jen, notorious and unchallenged gossip queen of the halls. Maria makes her decision in a heartbeat.

“Come in.”

Robin follows her into her room and closes the door behind them. She can tell he does his very best not to look around with curiosity.

“Do you want a cuppa? Or” – she reminds herself of the temperature and his heavy-looking leather jacket (really, a black leather jacket in the middle of July? Not that she’s complaining, but is the style really worth the heatstroke?) – “a glass of water or something?”

“No, thanks.” He reaches out his hand, handing the plate back to her. It isn’t empty, though. Maria stares at the little matchbox, decorated with a ribbon and a daisy tucked into the bow.

“Thanks for the matches. I…got you new ones.”

“Oh.” As she feels a blush hotly creeping into her cheeks, Maria carefully takes the plate from his hand. “You shouldn’t have. Thank you.”

She turns and rummages around in the cupboard way longer than necessary. The daisy, she places in a little shot glass filled with water.

“No, I should’ve.”

There is an odd undercurrent in Robin’s voice, something very close to nervousness. Maria turns back and looks at him where he is standing – still close to the door, not all up in her space. But he is smiling again.

“Your matches worked just fine, by the way.”

Maria resists the urge to bury her face in her hands as she remembers that awful joke. “Did they?”

He shrugs, his smile widening a little. His gaze wanders across the floor, the window, back to her face. “Might be a sign, don’t you think?”

Maria’s traitorous heart flutters in her chest the way it hasn’t for months, years, maybe centuries. “Are you flirting with me?”

He tilts his head a little. “Is it working?”

It is, but she isn’t about to tell him that. She can imagine his cocky smirk just fine, and she isn’t sure she should like so much what the idea alone is doing to her. Besides, she has done a bit of research and had a look at the nameplate next to his door.

“You’re a de Noir.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you a Merryweather.” Evidently, he has done his research, too. Evidently, he doesn’t seem to care much. “Ever considered all those family legends about old animosities might be horseshit?”

They’re not legends, Maria thinks, they’re facts, their families used to bash each other’s heads in for who knows how long. But, and this is where she admittedly agrees with the man standing opposite her, she has never understood why that should matter today, why it should keep her from certain parts of the forest, why her uncle had to break up with, oh, fuck, Robin’s sister…

She swallows down that little shock. Unfortunately, what comes out of her mouth instead is an even worse joke:

“You think we might be a…match?”

Robin outright snorts with laughter and gives her a grin more radiant than the sun itself. “I think our ancestors missed a few opportunities there.”

“I’m glad they did.” Maria bites her lip before she allows herself to grin back with just as much affection, gesturing between them. “Would be a right shame if we were cousins or something.”

“Agreed.” Robin winks, and in the warm daylight, it’s anything but creepy. It lets Maria’s heart beat faster, nevertheless; even more so as he comes just a short step closer.

“But since we’re not, d’you want to go for a coffee?”

“Right now?”

“Whenever you want.”

Maria gives herself a little shove. Their ancestors were idiots for missing those opportunities. She’s going to seize hers.

“Now sounds perfect, actually.”

[blutopaz15]

Happy anniversary to your blog friend!! 💕

If you’re still taking requests, I’d love to see either Rayla teaching Callum the Moonshadow Birthday Dance or Rayla doing the jerkface dance to make up for being away 😂 Your choice!

why not both? :D have some hurt/comfort with fluffy, silly book-ends! follow up to these related ficlets: one two three four five rated T Enjoy friend!!

Sleep had been the excuse he’d given to make her stay…but the truth is that they get very little that night.

It’s got to be two in the morning, Callum thinks, by the time they split his pajamas between the two of them and start talking about going to bed. 

Every time they’re about to blow the candles out, though, there’s simply too much else the other wants to say first. There’s just so much lost time to make up for—months and months of ups and downs, tears they hadn’t been there to wipe away, collected dumb jokes that keep popping up at the least appropriate moments—and…it’s pointless, really, trying to go to sleep.

The last attempt had ended in Rayla scurrying out of bed, smirking about giving him the rest of what he was owed…and Callum certainly wasn’t about to stop her. He’d quickly gathered that all her twirling and skipping around—bare-legged and grinning and gorgeous—was clearly the long-awaited Moonshadow Birthday Dance…but it took Rayla frowning at him after the first go-round to realize that he was supposed to be learning it too, not just watching her spin around his room.

She’d made sure he was focused the next time, eyes flashing at him over her shoulder on every turn, tsking every time she caught his eyes on the curve of her rear peeking out from the hem of his nightshirt. Really he was no better off, he thought, after the second demonstration, but she’d pulled him up anyway and he’d stumbled along.

Maybe it’d been on purpose, though, when he’d spun them both a little too close to the mattress, and maybe he’d meant to pull her down with him.

She doesn’t seem to mind, though, he thinks, feeling Rayla’s laughter against his chest, rumbling even stronger the tighter he squeezes her. 

The giggling subsides soon—too soon, truly, for how much of that they’d missed out on, too—and he loosens his embrace enough for her to turn and look at him. 

His heart sinks.

She looks so upset—so guilty—for someone who's just been laughing so hard—

“You haven’t even yelled at me,” she whispers.

—like she thinks he will yell simply because she’s reminded him.

And maybe he will at some point, but—

She’s already suffering—it’s plain to see—with her eyes shining with unshed tears, her lip trembling as she holds her elbows instead of him…

Not now. Not with her looking like that.

“Do I need to?”

“Aren’t you upset with me?” she questions, a teardrop falling on the bed before he can catch it.

He’s gentle: the truth doesn’t have to be harsh. 

“You knew that before you even left—that I’d be hurt and angry.” Callum quotes her letter, a hand on her cheek just before her face crumples to tears. “More than anything, though, I was worried about you, Rayla. I love you, and I had no idea if you were okay. I just—” 

At first, he thinks she’s just mirroring him, but no, he’s weeping too, and she’s wiping wetness from his eyes. It feels so strangely good, though, to cry in front of her, to touch her matching tears, to know he can just…pull her close.

“I’m—I’m so relieved, Rayla,” he explains, letting the streaming tears be to hug her instead, his voice muffled against her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll be mad tomorrow, or next week, or a month from now, but…I just missed you. I missed you so much.”

Rayla returns the embrace, her hold strong and fierce and brief—

“I missed you too, Callum.”

—before she crushes her lips to his again. The kiss tastes like tears—his or hers, he’s unsure—but when she’s through, she’s smiling weakly and trying—at least—to dry her eyes. 

“I still owe you some Katolis birthday songs, I know,” she says, sputtering out something between a sob and a snicker, and he can’t help but smile too. “But…what else can I do to make it up to you? I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“Mmmm…anything?” Callum asks, eyebrows bolting skyward, hoping to the heavens that teasing her will help and not hurt…and that his idea will cheer her up.

The teasing does help, he thinks. He believes the way her eyes sparkle and the way her smile gets all bashful and sweet, instead of forced and fragile. She reaches for his waistband again, and leans up, starry-eyed, to whisper in his ear—

“I have some…ideas,” Rayla says, her fingertips wandering…but he gently takes her hand instead. 

That…really shouldn’t be an apology, he still thinks. 

Plus, his idea is better. 

“Nope,” he insists, crossing his arms with affected severity. “Jerkface. Dance.” 

“Oh.” She deflates, slumping over with an overexaggerated huff, but lets him hold her hand captive, despite the half-hearted, dramatic way she wiggles away. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he smirks at her, using the hand held in his to guide her up to her feet.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, she accepts her fate, standing in front of him…but then she’s tugging on him and he’s on his feet too—

“Come on, then,” she says, grinning back at his confusion. “Teach me, dummy.”

[chalterdh22]

Chapter 46: Do You Want Me to Tell Everyone?

We all had a nice, relaxing evening and went to bed early.  When I woke up, I had Grogu curled up next to me in my bed.  I slowly got up to go to the refresher and to look to see what time it was.  It was just approaching 6 am.  I then peaked in our spare room and Din was in there sleeping.  Good, he got back ok.

I walked out to the kitchen to make some caf.  While that was brewing, I walked outside.  There was a chill in the air still, that would soon go away by the suns beating down on this planet.  I loved the early mornings here.  They were on the quieter side, before it got crazy in this town.

“Good morning!”  Mom yelled, waking up half the block.

“Shhhh, dang mom, people are still trying to sleep!”

“So, are you guys taking off soon?  Or do you get to hang out around here and, I don’t know, maybe help on a project or two?”  Knowing mom, one or two projects meant we’d be working for her for at least a week. 

“I’m not sure.  I’ll ask when Din gets up what the plan is.”

“Oh, I see, he makes the decisions!  I get it!  Your father was like that too and look what happened there.”  I shook my head and walked away.  “I’m just saying!”  She yelled back at me, and if they weren’t up already, they would be now.  Right on cue, Grogu came waddling out.

“Hey little man!  Sorry she woke you up.”  He waddled past me and went to mom to pick him up.

“Well, would you look at that!”  He was snuggling in her arms looking up at her.  “Are you hungry?  Well, that’s a stupid question, Peli, of course you are!  You’re a growing boy, aren’t ya!”  He made a few noises at her as she went into the kitchen. 

I walked back inside and sat at the table, just watching them.  She baby talked to him, and he loved it!  I know what he’s capable of, but still, he’s still a little kid too.  He needed that kind of attention as well.

A gloved hand set on my right should and squeezed it lightly.  I looked up and him, smiled, and told him good morning.

“Good morning.  Did you have a nice time yesterday?”

“We sure did!  We talked about you the whole time!”  Mom yelled from the kitchen.  I felt my face grow beet red.  He quickly looked down at me.

“Oh, we did not!  Stop teasing him!”  Giving mom the stink eye.

“Oh, calm down, ya tin can, it’s not all about you!”  I think at this point he was thinking just get me out of here.

“Anyway, when do you want to leave?  Mom says she has a few projects we can help her with if we wish to.”

“Projects?  What kind of projects?”

“Nothing too stressful, maybe two days, tops!”  She’s still banging around in the kitchen.  He looked back down at me.

“It’s up to you.  I’m cool with staying a few extra days, but I didn’t know your schedule.”

He sighed.  “We can stay two days, TWO, Peli!”

“Yeah, I heard ya!  Geesh, keep your helmet on!”

After we all ate breakfast, mom showed us her two “little projects.”  Honestly, they weren’t that bad, and it’d give me an excuse to stay longer, which I didn’t mind.

At the end of the day, we had all been wiped out, organizing, and moving parts for mom, to make room for her new ship.  She was like a kid, bouncing up and down.  Even Grogu wasn’t this hyped up usually!

That evening, as we were just sitting on the floor in the living room, relaxing, I told mom about the job I had, and quit.  But that was always there for me. 

Then she proceeded to tell us about all these people and how they were trying to rip her off and owe her money.  She was a fantastic storyteller and if you didn’t know her, you’d feel bad.  But most of this was her own doing. 

She was sitting in between Din and I and Grogu was hopping from one person to another for extra play time before bed.

“Ugh, you’re so hyper!  Come here, you little womprat!”  I grabbed him and started tickling his neck and belly, until he had a full-blown laugh going on.  “I’m going to tickle you until you get tired!”  Well, that didn’t work, he just hoped to mom’s lap, wanting the same thing, which she obliged with kisses too.

And then, he hopped onto Din’s lap and looked up at him with his big eyes. 

“Aww, he wants some daddy tickle time.”  Mom pointed out.  Din grunted and moved his finger under his little chin, which actually made him giggle, and then he hopped back to me.

“You know, when Suri was a little kid, I used to get her good when she’d walk by and wasn’t expecting it!”  I felt my face growing red again and let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, mom, you sure did get me,” I said and started shifting away from her.  “It’d scare me more than anything!”

“Nah, you loved it! See!”  And as quick as a cat, she poked my side and a stupid grin appeared on my face.  I kept scooting away, looking at Din like he should do the same, but he just stayed, sitting next to her.  Grogu then jumped from my arms back to mom’s.  “And I know you love it, little guy!”  She was poking him and making him squeal.  It really was adorable.

Grogu then tumbled off her lap, waddled to the middle of us and fell down, seated, like he had had enough.  I got this weird sensation happening, that made me squirm, and I noticed Din was starting to do the same thing.  I quickly grabbed him and said no, and then blew raspberries on his tummy.  He started to sink into my lap, like he was finally getting tired, as we all were.  I couldn’t dare let him use his powers in front of mom though, especially that!

I rocked him for a few minutes and realized he had passed out now, so I took him in the room that Din was staying in.  I quietly put him in the little cot, covering him up.  Leaning in to kiss him goodnight, I heard a weird yell come from the other room.  Great, now what? 

I started walking out there to tell them to keep it down, when I noticed Din, holding my mom’s wrists firmly in place telling her no, but giggling as he said it.

“What’s going on?”  I asked cautiously.

“Suri, did you know Mando here is ticklish?  Is this for real or what?”

“Mom, leave him alone before he hurts you!”  I was only half serious when I said that.

He released her wrists as she was still smiling, eyeing him up and down.  “Oh, come on Mando, you know you liked it.  Although, I didn’t hear a real laugh come from you.”  She said as she put a finger to her mouth.

“Mom, let it go or I’ll give him permission to use a blaster on you!”

“Ha, what will people say if they found out this guy can be taken down by a little tickling!  People would pay good money to see that!”

“Peli, no!  You can’t say anything.”  I could tell he was now serious.

“Ok mom, you had your fun.  Just stop.”

“Well, maybe I can keep my mouth shut, but I want to hear a real laugh, Mando!”

I looked over at him, trying to gauge what he was feeling.  He definitely wasn’t mad, but he was nervous.  It was like she would expose him or something.

“Mom….” I said sternly. 

“What?  I never get to have any fun!  Let me have my fun!”

“Your fun is making others suffer!  Don’t do that to him!”  I all but was shouting now, actually getting mad at her.  I think Din sensed the tension growing.  He sighed.

“It’s fine, Peli.  Just for a minute though.”  He said pointing a finger at her.  Oh no, I thought.  Her minutes weren’t minutes.  She’s worse than a kid sometimes, I swear.

“Din, you really don’t…”  I couldn’t even get the last few words out as she reached for his sides and started digging.  He let out a huge, barking laugh, and curled over towards her, like he couldn’t even handle it.

Then she must have snuck her hands up to his upper ribs because he stiffened up his arms and threw himself back taking her with him.  “Pelllliiii, pppleeeeasee ssttttoooppp!”

“Oh, no, you gave me a minute and it’s only been like 10 seconds!”

“Mom, let him go!  He can’t even breath right now!”

“Nah, the womprat is fine, see!”  She pulled her hands out of his armpits, as he was breathing hard, but still breathing. 

“Theereee, arrre yyyyou done?”

“Nope!”  She then grabbed a hold of his thighs, which made him jump about a foot in the air.  This poor guy.  And I just sat there with a grin on my face.  I just couldn’t help it.  My tiny, little spunky mom was taking done a fully suited Mandalorian.  And yes, I know, he could have stopped it at any time, but he played along.

I finally got up and grabbed her arms.  “Ok, ok, I think he’s laughed enough!”  She finally leaned back against a chair with a smile on her face that would never come off.  I reached for Din, who was laying on his back breathing hard, still twitching a little.  “Are you ok?”

He just shook his head yes.

“Of course, he’s fine.  It doesn’t kill anyone!”

“Well, not yet!  Seriously mom, don’t say anything, for real!”

“Oh, calm down you two!  Geesh!  You’re worse than kids!”  She stood up and yawned.  “Well, that exhausted me.  Good night you two!  Sleep tight Mando!  Ha!”

I shook my head and looked back at him, still lying there.  “I’m sorry, she’s the worse.”  He nodded in agreement.