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fever-project · 10 months ago
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Succession of the Third Kind - LU AU
The Chain begins to learn about the Downfall Timeline, and the secrets Legend holds. Ao3 Link Here. After the Finish the Prompt thing I did I suddenly got inspired to write this. Well, I’ve been trying to write this before, but the first version was literally just one sentence and the second I just did not like. Focusing on Legend and eventually the doppels once I get to them. The abandoned doppel is the only one here so far.
This is not sci-fi, unfortunately. There are no aliens. Sorry if the title mislead you into thinking that. Four/Vio’s POV.
Chapter 1 - Four’s Successor
The reveal of Four’s ability to split went far better than he thought it would. Vio looked out at how Wind was running circles around Red, his kid curiousness taking full force as he asked them loads of questions. Red tried his best to answer them, but he kept looking at Vio for help. He was the smart one after all.
But Vio preferred to just sit down and read a book, rather than interact with people. Blue was arguing with Warriors and Twilight about something stupid, Time and Sky were off to the side and looking after Red and Wind, and Green was chatting with everybody else.
Except for Legend, who was leaning against the next tree over. Staring at him.
“Are you wondering why I’m not with the others?” Vio asked without looking up from his book, but he wasn’t reading anymore.
“Kinda,” Legend answered, still not looking away from him. Does he even blink? “I’m just thinking.”
“Hmm. Nothing important it seems.”
“You don’t know that.”
Vio sighed and closed his book, looking over at Legend. His face was blank, blinking seemingly manually at odd intervals. Did he always do that or was that a new thing? Hopefully it was a new thing.
“Are you okay?” Vio asked, more confused than concerned.
“Eh, I’m fine. You?”
“Obviously,” Vio stood up, “But you seem like you’re trying not to fall asleep or something. No one’s forcing you to stay awake you know?”
“I think I’m your successor,” Legend dumped out of nowhere. Vio blinked a few times, stumbling back. He knew that they obviously weren’t on the end of the timeline compared to the others, but he couldn’t yet figure out where in the timeline he was. If Legend only just figured it out-
“You have the Four Sword, don’t you?” Vio asked, having regained his composure. Legend slowly got off from the tree, stretching, looking away from Vio. He waited for the veteran to speak, he was patient.
Vio looked back over to the others, the joyous scene continuing from before. He remembered that Four still hadn’t revealed the whole shrinking thing, and wondered about what would happen when he did. They’d probably let him ride on their shoulders, and coo at how small he was. Yeah, that’s what they do.
“Happy at the scene, or that I could be your successor?” Legend asked, making Vio straighten up. He didn’t know he was smiling.
“The scene. And we still haven’t confirmed that you’re my successor.”
“That’s fair. Just depends on whether you’re…” he trailed off, grimacing. He looked over at the others, staring at Time for a bit longer than the others before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” Legend stared at Vio until he nodded his head in agreement, “But I know of the Hero of Time. He was before me, but I’m not sure if he was before or after you.”
“Well I’ve never heard of him so-“ Vio stopped abruptly. If Legend wasn’t his successor, “-Is Time my successor?”
“Could be,” Legend had the same blank look on his face as he stretched again, “But he clearly never heard of you.”
“But you have?“
Legend makes eye contact with him, briefly. His eyes carry as certain sadness to them as he spoke, “I’ve…been to your tomb.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well that’s not too surprising, I guess,” Vio waved off the way his stomach had dropped, “Of course I’m dead by your time.”
“So was the Hero of Time.”
“Now how long we both were dead is the important question.”
“I…think you could’ve been dead for longer.”
“Then Time’s my successor.”
“Seems like it.”
“And you’re his.”
Legend flinches. Vio doesn’t understand why he would. Was he just wrong about that then?
“Are you Twilight’s-“
“Third option.”
“Wha-“
“Third. Option.”
Vio’s brain works quickly to figure out what Legend’s trying to say. Twilight is one of the options, Time is also an option, and then there’s Wind. But he obviously isn’t Wind’s successor, and Time and Twilight are somewhat close in time. Twilight and Wind are both Time’s successors from two different timelines, but a third timeline could exist. That was the third option.
“A third timeline!” Vio’s eyes widened, a smile encroaching upon his face as he figured it out. Legend laughed heartily.
“Yeah. I was thinking about telling Time after we all figured out the timeline stuff about both Wind and Twi, but…"
“Something happened to the Time before you.”
“Annnd that’s why I’m talking to you now. I’m just hoping you won’t tell Time.”
“So you’re withholding the information you know about me over my head, so I won’t tell, aren’t you?”
A moment of silence passed. Vio looked at Legend right in the eyes, his blank look annoying him. That’s Vio’s thing damn it.
Unexpectedly, Legend laughed, a sly sort of laugh, accompanied with a sly smile. He had to have picked up on Vio’s thirst for knowledge, his need to know more, he had to. He still didn’t know if Legend had the Four Sword. Or what happened with Time. Or why Legend was in his tomb. Vio needed answers. He needs it.
“If I was Blue I would’ve strangled you,” Vio said a nonchalantly as he could.
“Uh huh, sure, sure,” Legend waved his off as he looked at nails, “Listen, I’m telling you this because I can’t tell anyone else. Even though I’m technically Time’s successor, I feel more like I’m your successor. I know more about you and that sword compared to anybody else here. Except you guys of course.”
“…What do you know about it?”
Another moment of silence passed. How annoying. But he must have a reason for this. Vio sat back down on the ground, letting out a sigh. He returned to his book, and a while passed before Legend speaks again.
“So, why are your names so basic?”
Well that definitely wasn’t what Vio was expecting. Might as well answer this since it’s not like the veteran would answer any questions he had. Not like he had anything better to do. Might get him to open up a bit more as well.
“We were around ten and Red couldn’t think of anything better,” Vio closed his book again, “At least I think it was Red, I could be mistaken. What names would you choose?” Legend scratched his chin, thinking. Whether he was actually thinking or not, Vio couldn’t tell.
“I…would name us after the goddesses,” Legend began, already baffling Vio yet again, “The red one would be Din, green would be Farore, blue would be Nayru, and purple would Hylia, now that I know of her because of those guys.” Legend gestures over at Wild, who was currently running around with Warriors and Red, all of whom had Fire Rods, with Sky, Twilight, and Green chasing after them. “Should we check up on them?”
“Us,” Vio said simply, “Name us.” Legend made a strangled type of noise. A Freudian slip, was that what’s it was called? Vio looked at Legend directly in the eyes again, the blank stare now gone, uneasiness clear as day.
“I never used the Four Sword,” Legend quickly spat as he crossed his arms, looking away from Vio’s inquisitive stare.
“I never said you did,” Vio said with a small smirk, “Who knows, it could be something different, yet similar to my experience. You are my successor after all.”
“…Yeah, I guess I am.”
Their conversation ended there.
“Alright, whose time is this?” Time asked. The group looked around the forest they were now in. It was a pleasant and rather normal looking one, save for the logs large enough for a person to walk through and the random swords on pedestals dotted around the place. The one next to Four was made out of cardboard, for some reason.
“It’s my time,” Legend said. That immediately excited Four. The last time they were in his time, it was brief, only being in his house for a few hours as they met Ravio. Then the black blooded monsters appeared as well as the portal, so they left without even seeing most of Hyrule.
And now Four knows this is his future, one of his futures, at least. He was a little curious about where his tomb would be. A little sacred as well.
But first they needed to get out of the forest.
“We’re in the Lost Woods, north of Kakariko Village. And don’t even bother with the swords-they’re worthless,” Legend said, annoyance tainting his voice for some reason.
“These remind me of my first attempts at making a sword,” Four remarked, poking one of the swords, and it wobbled like paper. Actually, this one was made out of paper. Why? Who would do this?
“How likely are we to get lost in these ‘Lost Woods?’” Wild asked, leaning over Legend, who scoffed.
“Not likely, it not that big,” Legend grabbed Wild and went over to grab Hyrule, pulling them both along. “Just follow me, I know the way out. We’ll be in Kakariko in no time at all.”
“Thank you Legend,” Time spoke, “Don’t wander off you lot, just follow the veteran.”
And so they did. Four held the back with Twilight and Wind, Warriors and Sky near Time, and Wild and Hyrule were with Legend.
The vet lead them through the logs, the occasional fucking crows being the only monsters they encountered. It was a nice and short walk all things considered. Four could see Wild pick up a few swords that were made from actual sword materials, and Four got a couple as well. They were shoddy, to put it nicely. But he could probably salvage something if he had the right tools. Soon enough they were out of the woods.
“Alright guys, we’ve made it,” Legend announced once they all filed out. Four could see the village in the near distance. It would likely take less than an hour to get there.
“Woohoo!” Wind cheered once he stepped out, “When are we going to your house Leg?”
Warriors snicked, as he always does when someone calls Legend ‘Leg’, “Yes Leg, where is your home and your rabbit-themed friend?”
Legend groaned, “It’s east of the village. Let’s just stop there and restock or whatever.” He slumped over as he made his way towards the village, mostly ignoring how Wild and Hyrule tried to talk to him.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Wind asked as he leaned over to Four and Twilight.
“He could be tired,” Twilight looked over at the vet, “But he has been acting strange lately.”
“Yeah! Ever since…” Wind trailed off as he looked over at Four. “I-I mean who knows when he started being a grump you know-“
“Wind, it’s fine,” Four sighed, “It’s…a bit complicated.”
“He’s your successor isn’t he?” Warriors suddenly appeared behind them, causing them all to jump.
“Gah! Wars!” Twilight lightly slapped Wars’ arm, glaring at him. He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head nervously.
“Whoops, sorry,” Warriors said with a smile, “I just saw him talking with the purple you for a while, so I assumed you must’ve had an important conversation.”
“Like Legend being Four’s successor?!” Wind looked very excited at the thought, before his face scrunched up, “But when are you guys in the timeline? Probably before Time, right?”
Four shrugged, putting on the best poker face he could. Which was much easier when it was just Vio doing it.
“How about we talk about this after we find a place to rest,” Twilight reasoned, “Also, we’re falling behind.”
The four of them rushed to catch up with the others.
Four soon figured out he was right about it not going to take too long to get to Kakariko. The streets were lively, the people were nice, although a one did run away from them-from Legend. Legend proudly stated that the woman had once reported him to the knights after he was framed for kidnapping the princess, when he was ten years old nonetheless. Now she was way too scared to even go near him, and everyone seemed to hate her. Four also hated her now.
Everyone restocked on their resources, and Four visited the blacksmith with Legend and his posse. The blacksmith and his family were very nice, not looking down on Four like most blacksmiths usually do. Four and Wild gave him the swords to to melted down, which wouldn’t give much useable materials because of the way they were made. But Four didn’t really mind that. He and Wild payed the blacksmith, they all said their goodbyes, and went out to find the others.
Four and Legend didn’t speak to each other the entire time they were there.
Night soon arrived, and with it, the gaggle of heroes arrived at Legend’s house.
“I’m home Ravio!” Legend called out as he opened the door. Immediately, Ravio’s little bird, Sheerow, flew right into his face. Some Links-especially Wars-laughed at how much Legend was taken aback by it.
“Mr. Hero! You’re back!” Radio called from within the house, “Come in, come in. Oh! And I see your family has came along again as well.”
The group headed in, and noticed that the place was a lot neater. It looked like there was slightly less stuff, but most of it was there, either organized in neat boxes or large, nice display cases. Everyone immediately started to wander about, each trying way too hard to stop themselves from touching everything. Four did not know why they were like this. Four did not know why he was like this.
“Did you move my stuff?” Legend sounded like he was trying to hold back his anger. His hooded friend shrunk back, holding his hands up in defense. Sheerow was now perched on top of his head.
“Listen, listen. I can explain, alright? I simply reorganized everything because I kept tripping on everything,” Legend shrunk back this time, a bit embarrassed, “It’s simply safer this way.”
“Some stuff is missing,” Wild muttered. How he noticed, Four didn’t know.
“Oh! I put some things in the basement. I also made a basement!” Ravio said cheerfully, Sheerow chirping along.
“I wonder if there’s anywhere to sleep,” Sky asked.
“I wonder too!” Ravio said, still somehow chipper, “I have made myself a cot to sleep on,” he gestured over to the dark purple mattress at the uppermost left corner of the room, “I don’t know where your bed went Mr. Hero, but I forgot to ask you before you left.”
“You didn’t find the attic?” Legend asked. He was fiddling with a yellow cape with red accents.
“There’s an attic?”
Legend sighed as he strode towards the upper right corner, slinging the cape on. In a swift motion he pulled out his sword, half-swording it and hooked the cross-guard onto something. A quick pull and a set of stair fell down to the floor.
“That’s the attic,” he stated simply. A couple of them oohed and aahed. “Now, I’m going to sleep in my room. Have fun!” In an instant, Legend jumped up, higher than usual and it quickly clicked in Four’s mind that it was because of the cape.
Everyone was surprised, no being able to react in time to stop Legend from going up into the attic and pulling up the ladder, cackling like a mad man as some of them-mostly Ravio, Time, and Sky-tried to get him to stop and be normal. It didn’t work as Legend was successful in locking the attic door behind him, and no one could unlock it.
Four noticed something on the wall near the door hatch. He resolved to check it out later.
“…Well,” Ravio twiddled his thumbs, “I can make some room for some sleeping bags! Free of charge, since your Link’s…family.”
“I don’t wanna sleep in a sleeping bag again!” Wild and Wind both whined.
“Ravio,” Warriors snapped to get his attention, “Is there any space in the basement?”
“Well, yes, but it’s cold down there. I uh, I can-was going to move these boxes down there, but if some of you help, I’ll give you all discounts for future purchases!”
“Well-“ Time began before being quickly cut off by Wars.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t we help? Come on men! Let’s assist our merchant friend.” The rest of the Links sighed. Of course they would help but it not like they wanted to move boxes all night before they could go to sleep. It’s not like it would take too long with all of them working together, they just wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible.
Legend was a lucky man indeed.
After clearing enough space, everyone obviously went straight to sleep. Ravio was the only with the bed, and it was clear that he felt a bit bad about it. Would’ve felt even more bad if Warriors didn’t keep encouraging him the whole time. What was the deal with that? But nobody really questioned him, because fatigue was starting to get to all of them.
But Four couldn’t sleep. He said he’d go out for a walk before he did and no one objected. In reality, he was going for a bit more than just a simple night walk.
It didn’t take long to find one. A Stump Entrance. A Minish Portal. Jackpot.
Four stepped on the stump and shrunk down, falling in between the cracks of the wood. He had missed jumping on the mushrooms within these Stump Entrances. The tiny stones that once framed the portal door with were worn and chipped, maintenance having stopped long ago.
But the Minish were here, he knew it. Where they’ve gone now, he didn’t know. He at least hoped that they were still around long after he was dead. They were no longer in Hyrule, or this part of Hyrule. As he made his way back to Legend’s house, he wonded how Ezlo was doing, what could’ve happened to him. He thought about Vaati, who once was a Minish as well. Did Legend know about him? Had he ever even heard of the Minish?
These thoughts continued once he finally got to the home. There was a small door near the front door, big enough for only Minish to go through. At least they were still here when the house was built, at the very least.
Four had to be very careful when traversing around the home. It was like a maze to avoid his sleeping companions, to not wake him up. After a terrifying time of almost getting smacked by wondering hands, he finally reached the corner the attic door was at. And Four silently cheered when he noticed the very worn engraved steps going up the wall, with a tiny hole up on the top. He was very glad for his Grip Ring, but he still almost fell down numerous times. But he eventually got to the attic.
The first thing that pulled his attention wasn’t Legend, no. It was a mask that he’d only seen before in the hands of Wild. Four now understood why Legend thought it was one of a kind. And now he understood it really was dark magic.
It was covered by a glass case, hanging upon the top of wall. Shaped like triangle, fitting perfectly between the roofs. The dark magic still seeped through, barely, but Four could feel it in his tiny form. He forced himself to look away, for fear that it’ll convince him to try to covet it’s power, like how Time had once described the legend behind it. The old man knew more about that mask than just that legend, even if tried to make it seem like he didn’t. Why did Legend have this mask? And how did he get it? Was it all connected to Time?
Four turned his focus to Legend, the scene before him being a surprising sight. He was sitting on a wooden stool, a stone statue the same size as the vet in front of him. It looked like him too, except for the outfit and hair being much more simple and blocky. It was chipped in various places, and Legend was repairing them at a rapid pace. It must’ve looked a lot worse before he started working on it, Four knew.
The statue had an odd mask on where its face would be, two large hollow holes for the eyes and a smaller one for the mouth. There was…an aura, around it, that Four could sense. Not really an actual aura, per se, but a feeling, a feeling that made it seem more than just just a statue. Like it was alive, yet resting, somewhat similar to an Eyegore Statue and yet very, very different. It was like it was in a deep slumber, like it was never alive to begin with yet it’s heart was beating proudly.
An odd sight for Four’s eyes.
Four wandered about the attic, looking around Legend’s quaint room. The closet was slightly ajar, enough for Four to see what was inside even if he wasn’t Minish size. But if he was normal size, he wouldn’t be able to jump inside of it. There were a lot of colorful outfits inside, and he felt a bit overwhelmed. The closet was also much bigger on the inside, like an actual walk-in closet. Legend really did love his magic items huh. The outfits were also probably magic items as well, due to the fact that Four couldn’t ever imagine Legend wearing full body tights. One of them was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, and the other was clearly based on Tingle.
There was also one that looked a bit like Time’s armor, with a mask hung next to it that had the markings that Time had on his face, except the red markings were under both of the eyes. The eyes are painted to be entirely white, an odd, but important choice to note down in Four’s opinion. But it was yet another thing related to Time, Legend’s actual predecessor. Yet he told him that he felt more like Four was his predecessor, despite having so many things connected to Time. He still hasn’t found the Four Sword. And despite his efforts, he couldn’t find it within the closet. He did, however, find a number of different tunics in different colors. Most of them green, but there was a certain set of tunics that caught his eye.
The tunics were simple, each having matching, lighter shirts of the same color. There was a swirl on the belt buckles, reminiscent of Wind’s. There was a red one, a green one, a blue one, and a purple one, the last one looking newer compared to the rest.
Before Four could question why that was, Legend suddenly opened the closet. The tiny blacksmith quickly ran to hide underneath one of the many different robes. Peaking from underneath the robe, he saw Legend grabbing the purple tunic he was just looking at and walked out. Four scrambled to follow him as quietly and sneakily as he could.
Legend thankfully didn’t notice the tiny hero behind him as he walked over to the statue, now fully repaired in such a short time. Or it could’ve been a long time, spread out across many months or many many years. He put the clothes onto the statue, an anxious look on his face as he did so. Four was also a bit anxious, deciding to wait this out before tying to figure out what exactly was going on.
Legend cheered silently as he finished dressing the statue. Four found himself cheering alongside him.
“Looking good Hylia,” Legend whispered with a wide smile, “Hylia. Yeah, that’s a good name for you.” He sat down on his stool, examining the statue from there. Four inched his was towards the hole near the door, since it seemed like Legend was almost done with this.
“I just need to figure out how to make you like the other two,” the other two colors, Four noted, “But I don’t really want to go back to Hytopia. Hmm…” Legend bit his lip as he thought about what to do. Four was finally at the hole, standing in front of it. Without a warning sign of any kind, Legend glanced over to the attic door, to where Four was.
The both of them froze. Legend definitely noticed the colorful little speck that stood out like a sore thumb against the wooden floor. The vet’s eyes were wide, but didn’t move much other than that. Four didn’t want to move at all, his mind racing on what to do now. Legend kept staring at him, wide-eyed and unblinking, for the longest time. What was less than a minute felt like hours as Four became more and anxious about what his friend would do.
Legend inhaled sharply as he pressed his lips together, leaning back and closing his eyes.
“Well then,” Legend spun towards the statue, leaning forwards, propping up his head with his hands, “I suppose I could figure out something with the Four Sword. That could help. But that’s something for another day, don’t you think?”
Four fervently nodded, but he didn’t think Legend could see that. Either way, he then ran out out the attic, slowing his fall down with his Roc’s Cape. He was able to glide away a good distance, soon able to go through the small door, go to Minish Portal, turn back to normal size, and return back to house through the normal door. As quietly as he could, he wormed his way into his sleeping bag.
He couldn’t fall asleep. All he could do was wait for night to pass, and process what just happened.
His shadow was definitely laughing at him.
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beneathashadytree · 4 months ago
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HI GUYS! LONG POST, MAKING A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT OVER HERE! I WILL BE ACCEPTING WRITING COMMISSIONS FOR A COUPLE OF MONTHS, DUE TO THE FACT THAT I LIVE IN EXTREME POVERTY… PLEASE REBLOG!!
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Here are my commision prices:
1$-2$ —> an SMAU (depends on length)
5$ —> a drabble (around 500 words)
10$ —> a oneshot (around 1000 words)
20$ or more—> a ficlet (2000-4000 words or more)
What fandoms I’m willing to write for (the ones in bold are the ones I’m best at and hyperfixating on):
Attack on Titan
Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice
My Hero Academia
Haikyuu!!
Jujutsu Kaisen
JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure
Moriarty the Patriot
Tokyo Revengers
One Piece
Bungou Stray Dogs
Kuroko no Basket
Ikemen Sengoku
Ikemen Vampire
Ikemen Revolution
Ikemen Prince
Love and Deepspace (my current fav)
How do I request a commission?
Either contact me via my DMs here, or on my Ko-Fi! I’ll be linking my account at the bottom of this post.
What’s the commission format?
Tell me your name or your OC’s name, their gender & pronouns, describe them to me both physically and in terms of personality, then tell me which character you want me to write them with. I’ll be writing “character x reader” or “character x OC” fics, so I need to know what I’m working with! Any extra details will help a lot. Of course, we will discuss everything concerning your commission privately.
If you want to check out my previous works to have a rough idea of how things will look like, be sure to check out my masterlist, which is my pinned post! Of course, my writing improves over time, so it may not be precisely as it is there.
How do I pay you?
You can pay me via my Ko-Fi account, which is linked to my PayPal! Here’s the link to my Ko-Fi.
Please consider helping me out, whether by requesting a commission, or by sharing this post and my links as much as possible!! I’m trying my best to do all I can now that I haven’t got many options left.
As some of you might already know, I’m a dentist, but still at uni. Sadly, studying dentistry is extremely expensive, and I can’t rely on my parents to pay my fees for me for a few reasons.
The first being that my dad is a heart patient, and can’t work anymore. The pension he receives is literally less than the equivalent of 90 dollars. Of course, that doesn’t provide anything in terms of food and living (we usually can only afford a meal or two a day) except for some of his meds—not even all of them. His health is steadily declining.
My mother is extremely narcissistic and very, very abusive. I’ve gone through hell living with her because I have to, but even she can’t even afford to take care of us because no one wants to hire her at her old age, and she’s used up all her savings on my dad.
I’m also physically disabled, and can’t move around often. I also have to have surgeries every now and then because of the chronic illness I have.
I am in serious, dire need of money, both for my tuition fees, and hopefully to be able to live. I have to keep us afloat until I can get married in a couple of years, since I can’t live alone. Besides, my dad doesn’t deserve to suffer with his heart problems.
I tried working with dentistry last year, and that worked for a while, but this year no one’s hiring due to the terrible state of our economy. I have no skills aside from my writing, so that’s what I’ll have to work with. I’m getting seriously desperate, so I hope you guys understand why I’m doing this, and hopefully feel inclined to offer any support you can—even if not financial, but just by reblogging this post!
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lefteagleblizzard · 2 months ago
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𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣
Mike Schmidt x male reader
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Summary: After enduring an incredibly stressful exam, you finally breathe a sigh of relief as it comes to an end. Mike does everything in his power to help you unwind and relax.
Tags: Part 7 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike (reader is 20 years old). Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Slow paced smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.
Suggested by a really nice person. Hope you like it and sorry it took me this long.
Words count: 4000
Can also be found on wattpad and ao3
Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11
You spent every night leading up to the exam reviewing notes, revisiting past papers, and checking your study materials for any gaps in knowledge. It felt like everything you'd learned had evaporated, leaving you with only vague recollections of concepts that once seemed clear.
Sitting in the exam hall, the quiet rustle of papers, the ticking of a clock, and the occasional cough or sniffle from fellow students only heightened your awareness. You found yourself hyper-focused on everything except the exam itself. It wasn't until the final minutes were called that you felt a burst of clarity, rushing through the last few questions with a determination you hadn't felt since the beginning.
Afterward, your body felt drained, as if the weight of your anxiety had been released all at once. All you wanted to do was collapse and forget about everything for a while.
You squinted against the bright light outside, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the late afternoon sun. The campus was buzzing with life. Students milling about, laughing, talking, some excited, others looking just as worn out as you felt.
And then, through the haze of exhaustion, you saw him.
Mike.
He was standing by his car, a short distance away, clearly trying to blend in, though he stood out like a sore thumb among the groups of teenagers loitering around the area. He leaned against the side of his old, beat-up car with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his head tilted slightly down as if trying to avoid eye contact with anyone passing by. His posture was casual, but the subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed how awkward he felt, standing there in the middle of campus, surrounded by people younger than him.
He had always been a little uncomfortable around large crowds, especially when it involved people he didn't know.
Despite the awkwardness, the second Mike's eyes landed on you, his whole demeanor shifted. The tightness in his face softened, and his shoulders relaxed just a little. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't big or flashy, just a subtle, tired smile.
He straightened up a bit as you walked toward him, though his hands stayed buried in his pockets, his eyes never leaving yours.
As you reached him, the familiar scent of his worn leather jacket and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air around him. "How long have you been waiting?"
Mike shrugged, the motion almost too casual, like he didn't want to admit he'd probably been standing there for a while. His eyes flickered toward the students walking by, and he gave a small shake of his head. "Not too long. Though I'd get here early, make sure I didn't miss you."
You smiled at that, feeling a pang of affection for him.
"C'mon," Mike said, gesturing toward his car with a slight nod of his head. "Let's get out of here. You look like you could use a break."
You followed him to the passenger side, and he opened the door for you without a second thought.
The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite. You let your head fall back against the seat until you reached yours and Mike's home, your eyes half-closed as you watched the world blur past outside the window.
The house was quiet, with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old floorboards underfoot. Mike sat on the bed, looking at you as you sank into the mattress with a tired sigh. He couldn't help but watch you, taking in every small detail of your stressed state, and yet somehow, to him, you still looked perfect.
His mind swirls with a mix of emotions. Relief that you were here, disbelief that you were with him, and something else, something deeper. It was the same overwhelming protectiveness he felt for Abby, the kind that made him want to shield you from everything bad in the world.
"How do you think it went?" Mike asked, his voice a little hoarse from the long day. He could still see the remnants of anxiety lingering in your expression, though the worst of it seemed to have passed now that it was over.
"It went okay," you replied, your voice soft but tinged with relief. "I don't know if I aced it, but at least I didn't fail."
Mike smiled faintly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm sure you did fine," he said, his tone reassuring. "You always do better than you think."
"Maybe," you muttered, still clearly uncertain but a little more at ease.
Mike let out a quiet grunt, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a small, tired smile as he laid back, letting his body relax into the bed. His hand, which had been resting on your arm, moved down slowly, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns on your skin. It wasn't intentional at first, just a natural gesture of comfort, but as the moments passed, he found himself more aware of the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the subtle tremble that ran through you every time his touch lingered a little longer.
"When I was your age, I could barely keep it together for anything, let alone school. You're doing a hell of a lot better than I ever did." Mike said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful.
You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You went to college, right? You told me you were going before... you know, before everything with Abby happened."
"Yeah," Mike muttered, a little gruff, as memories of those years surfaced. "I did, for a bit. But I was a mess. Dropped out before I could make anything of it." He shrugged, his tone nonchalant. "Sometimes life happens, I guess."
You were quiet for a moment, processing what he'd said, before replying softly, "But you're taking care of Abby now. That's what matters. I think you've done more than anyone could've expected."
Mike smiled again, a little more genuinely this time. "You always know how to say the right thing," he murmured, his voice low. His hand drifted down your arm to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants.
You didn't seem to think much of it, though, still lost in the conversation as you turned your head to face him more fully. "I don't know about always saying the right thing," you teased, "I almost caused a fight with your aunt at one point."
Mike chuckled, the sound low and tired, his breath warm as he leaned in just a little closer. "Yeah, but I liked that about you," he said, his voice softer now, his hand resting lightly on your thigh. "You always stand up for me, even when I don't deserve it."
"Of course. You deserve it," you replied quickly, almost defensively, which only made Mike smile more. His heart swelled a little at how earnest you were, how fiercely loyal you had been from the start.
As you spoke, Mike's hand drifted a little higher, his fingers now tracing light circles on your thigh, just barely brushing the skin beneath the fabric. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, and it was almost instinctual the way his body responded, his movements slow, deliberate, but still subtle enough that you didn't seem to notice right away.
He listened as you kept talking, your voice filling the comfortable silence of the room as you rambled on about the exam, your friends, and random things you'd seen at college. Mike didn't say much, just murmured responses here and there, nodding as you spoke, his tired eyes half-lidded as he watched you.
Without even thinking about it, he leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing against your cheek as you continued talking. You didn't seem to notice, too wrapped up in your thoughts, and Mike used that to his advantage, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, almost absentmindedly. The urge to be close to you growing stronger with each passing moment.
You didn't react much at first, though he noticed the subtle way your breath hitched just slightly whenever his lips lingered a little longer. He smiled against your skin, letting his hand drift further up your thigh, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your pants.
He shifted a little closer, his body pressing lightly against yours as he kissed your cheek again, this time letting his lips linger longer before pulling back. It was clear you hadn't realized what Mike was doing, at least not fully, and that only made his heart race faster.
Mike shifted slightly, moving closer to you on the bed. His hand slipped from your leg to your waist, his fingers gently tracing the line of your hip. You were so warm, so soft, and he couldn't get enough of you.
You kept talking, unaware of the way Mike' thoughts were becoming less and less innocent. His hand slid up your side, his fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt, and for a brief moment, he hesitated. Was this too much? Was he pushing too far?
"How was your day? Did everything go okay with Abby?"
Mike blinked, momentarily surprised by the question. His mind had been so wrapped up in you that he had almost forgotten the rest of the day existed. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice still soft. "Abby was good. She's been drawing a lot lately. She made something for you, actually.”
Your eyes lit up at that, and Mike's heart skipped a beat at the sight. God, you were so adorable when you got excited like that. It was little things like this that made him fall for you all over again, every single day.
"She did?" you asked, smiling widely now. "What did she make?"
Mike chuckled, his hand still resting on your side as he spoke. "It's a drawing of the three of us. You, me, and her. She was really proud of it."
You let out a soft laugh, leaning back against the pillows with a contented sigh. "That's so sweet. She's such a talented kid. I'm really lucky to be a part of her life."
Mike's chest tightened at your words. He knew how much Abby adored you, how much she looked up to you, how much she trusted you. It meant the world to him that you felt the same way.
Mike's kisses became more frequent the longer the conversation went on, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jawline, your temple.
"You're lucky?" Mike asked softly, his voice laced with disbelief. "I'm the lucky one. You're... I don't know how I got this lucky."
You tilted your head slightly, your cheeks a shade of red as you looked at him with a curious smile. "What do you mean?"
Mike's throat tightened as he tried to find the right words.
"You could be anywhere, with anyone. But you're here, with me. And I don't know what I did to deserve that." Mike told you, his voice faltering slightly. His hand moved up to your shoulder, his fingers gently squeezing as he looked down at you.
You looked at him for a long moment, your expression softening into something tender, something affectionate. "Mike, I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because I love you."
To Mike, those words meant everything. They were everything.
And at that moment, Mike couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender. You kissed him back just as softly, your hand reaching up to rest on his arm, pulling him closer.
Mike's heart raced as the kiss deepened, his hand moving from your cheek to your waist, pulling you against him. There was something about the way you melted into his touch that made Mike's mind spin. You were his. You had chosen him. And he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.
His lips found your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. Your breath hitched as you finally seemed to realize what was happening.
"Mike..." you breathed, your voice soft, a little hesitant, but not pulling away.
He didn't stop. He kissed his way down the side of your neck, his lips warm and gentle.
"Just relax," Mike muttered, his voice low and rough, as he kissed the sensitive skin of your collarbone, his teeth grazing the flesh just enough to make you gasp.
You were still, your breath coming in shallow bursts as Mike's lips moved up and down your neck, his hands now fully exploring your body with a slow, deliberate intent.
"You deserve it," Mike whispered against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear before he pulled back slightly to look at you again.
God, you were so handsome. He had thought it from the moment he first met you, but now it was different. Now he knew you, knew how kind and patient you were, knew how much you cared about him.
He wasn't in a rush. He didn't want to rush this. You were so precious to him, so important, and he wanted to savor every second of this moment.
Mike's lips found your collarbone, and he kissed his way across it, his teeth grazing your skin as he left small marks.
His hand moved lower, resting on your stomach, and he felt you tense slightly under his touch. But then you relaxed, your head falling back against the pillow as Mike pressed another kiss to your neck, this one slower, more deliberate.
As Mike's hands gripped your waist with a gentle firmness, he marveled at how perfectly you fit beneath him, as though you were made just for him.
His lips left slow trails along your body, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He lingered at your collarbone, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before biting down just enough to leave a mark. Your soft gasp in response spurred him on, and he grunted low in his throat as his lips traveled down your chest, nipping and kissing as he went.
You could feel the heat of his hands against your skin, the anticipation building as he slowly worked your pants down, his eyes never leaving yours. You turned around on your stomach to make it easier for him.
When your pants were finally off, Mike took a moment to just look at you. The sight of you, laid out beneath him, flushed with a mix of nerves and desire, was enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.
Mike's hands gently parted your legs, his touch firm yet tender, as he settled between them. His lips pressed softly against the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he moved closer to where you wanted him most.
He paused for a moment, his lips hovering just above you, his breath warm against your most sensitive area. The wait was torturous, and you bit your lip, barely able to contain the soft whimper that escaped. The sound of your need fueling him as he gently pressed his tongue against you, starting slow, teasing.
He took his time, savoring the way your body reacted to his touch. His tongue moved in long, slow strokes, exploring every inch of you with an almost lazy precision. He could feel the way your muscles tensed beneath his hands, the way your hips instinctively shifted, trying to get closer to him. But he was in control and he kept the pace slow, drawing out every sensation, every soft gasp that fell from your lips.
His hands gripped your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin as he held you in place, preventing you from squirming too much beneath him. The taste of you, the way your body responded so eagerly, had him groaning softly against your skin, the sound reverberating through your entire body.
As his tongue explored you, he started to add a little more pressure, his movements becoming more focused. His lips wrapped around you as he gently sucked, his tongue swirling in deliberate circles. Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle graze of his teeth, was designed to make you lose yourself in the sensation. He just loved the way you reacted, the way your hands gripped the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.
Mike slowly pulled back, his lips swollen and wet, his breath heavy as he looked up at you.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and rough, as his hands slid beneath you, cupping your butt softly. His fingers gently squeezed, his touch firm yet tender, as he spread you open, exposing you completely to him.
His tongue was on you again, gently circling around your entrance and moving in slow, deliberate strokes, gradually pressing deeper, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a groan of satisfaction.
You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching slightly as Mike's tongue worked deeper, exploring you from the inside out. His hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you steady as he pushed further, his tongue curling inside you in slow, rhythmic motions. You could feel the heat building inside you, the pressure growing as Mike took his time, thoroughly preparing you.
His tongue moved in and out of you with practiced ease and an almost lazy precision, his exhaustion only adding to the unhurried pace. He was tired, yes, but the need to please you kept him going.
His fingers gently massaged the soft flesh, squeezing and kneading as his tongue worked deeper inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his hands and mouth driving you closer and closer to your limit.
Finally, when he could feel your body trembling with anticipation, Mike pulled back, his lips swollen and wet, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes met yours, and the look in them sent a shiver down your spine.
With a low, tired groan, Mike leaned back slightly, his hands moving to the buckle of his jeans. His fingers working slowly as he unfastened his belt, the leather sliding through the loops of his jeans with a soft, familiar sound. You watched him, your heart pounding in your chest as he finally undid the button of his jeans, his fingers slow and deliberate.
The sound of his zipper sliding down filled the quiet room. His hands moved with laziness, pushing his jeans down just enough to free himself from the tight constraints.
His boxers followed, his hand tugging them down as he freed his aching length, already hard and heavy with need. You swallowed hard at the sight of him thick and swollen, the tip glistening slightly in the dim light of the room. Mike's hand wrapped around himself, giving a slow, lazy stroke as he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours.
For a moment, he just stayed there, kneeling between your thighs, his hand moving slowly over his cock as he watched you.
"You ready?" Mike asked, his voice rough and low, the exhaustion evident but laced with desire.
You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you spread your legs a little wider, offering yourself to him completely. Mike groaned softly at the sight, his hands moving to grip your hips again as he positioned himself at your entrance. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let you feel the weight of him, the heat of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.
Slowly, almost agonizingly so, Mike began to push forward, his cock slipping past the tight ring of muscle with a low, guttural groan. The sensation was overwhelming. The way your body stretched to accommodate him, the way he filled you completely, inch by inch.
His movements slow and deliberate, wanting to make sure you felt every second of it. He could feel your body trembling beneath him, the way your breath hitched in your throat as he finally seated himself fully inside you.
"God, you feel so good," Mike murmured, his voice low and rough as he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His hands moved to your waist, holding you gently but firmly as he leaned down, his breath hot against your neck.
He began to move, slow and steady, his hips rocking against yours with a lazy rhythm. He slid in and out of you with ease, the heat of your body enveloping him completely. Mike grunted softly with each slow thrust, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he focused purely on the feeling of you around him. His warm breath comes in short, shallow bursts against your neck.
His hands stroked your waist, your hips, occasionally trailing down to your thighs as he continued to move inside you. The slow, lazy rhythm sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips with each thrust. Mike grunted softly in response, the sound of your voice driving him to push deeper, to take you harder.
His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your throat, biting down gently just enough to make you gasp.
His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his slow thrusts. The added sensation sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching beneath him as the pleasure built inside you. Mike groaned softly, his hand working you with the same lazy precision as his hips, his fingers stroking you in slow, deliberate movements that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.
Mike's breath was hot against your skin, his soft grunts filling the quiet room as he moved inside you, his body shuddering with each movement.
He was tired, his muscles aching from the slow, methodical pace he had set, but he didn't care. He wanted to make this last, to make sure you felt every bit of love and affection he had for you.
The slow, lazy rhythm started to shift the more the time passed. The pleasure building between the two of you became too much to ignore, and Mike's thrusts grew a little harder, a little faster, his hands gripping your hips more tightly as he buried himself deeper inside you. The soft grunts that escaped his lips became more frequent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he picked up the pace.
His hips snapped against yours with more force now, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing the pleasure that had been building between you.
Mike groaned loudly, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he thrust into you with more urgency. His fingers stroked you faster, more urgently, as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
"Come on," Mike muttered, his voice strained as he thrust into you harder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "I want to feel you come for me."
He groaned loudly, his hips snapping against yours with more force as he finally reached his peak, filling you completely.
The sensation of him filling you, the heat and pressure of his release, pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat as the pleasure washed over you, your muscles clenching around him as you came hard, your release coating his fingers as he continued to stroke you through it.
Mike groaned loudly as he felt you tighten around him, his hips stilling as he buried himself deep inside you, his breath rugged and uneven as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His body shuddered with the intensity of it, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he stayed buried inside you, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you, and the faint hum of the world outside. Mike stayed still, his body pressed against yours, his cock still buried deep inside you as he caught his breath. His hands gently stroked your sides, his touch soft and affectionate now, as though he was grounding himself after the intensity of what had just happened.
Slowly, reluctantly, Mike pulled out, a low groan escaping his lips as he did. He collapsed beside you, his arm draping over your waist as he pulled you close, his body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse, still laced with exhaustion.
You nodded, your breath still coming in shallow bursts as you turned to face him, your body warm and heavy with the afterglow. Mike smiled softly, his tired eyes half-lidded as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
The room was still warm with the heat of your shared intimacy, your bodies entangled beneath the sheets, bathed in the soft glow of the dimmed light from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with the scent of sweat. Both of you lay there, your breathing gradually slowing, coming down from the high, your bodies sinking into the comfort of the mattress.
Mike was next to you, his arm loosely draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling with heavy, tired breaths. His skin was still flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead.
You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, and Mike's lips parted slightly, his breath hitching at the gentle touch. There was a kind of awe in his eyes, like he was still in disbelief that someone like you was here with him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The way he looked at you said it all.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply lay there, staring into each other's eyes.
He didn't respond with words, Instead, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. The kiss deepened, but it wasn't rushed. There was no urgency. It was all about savoring the moment.
You felt yourself sinking into him, your bodies molding together as the tension from before dissolved into a quiet, comfortable intimacy.
You felt the weight of exhaustion slowly pulling you under, your eyelids growing heavy as your body began to relax into the warmth of the bed. Mike seemed to feel it too, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if to pull you closer. His hand gently stroked your skin, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across the marks he had left behind.
You were just about to drift off, your eyes fluttering shut as the drowsiness overtook you, when you suddenly felt Mike tense beside you. His body stiffened, his hand freezing mid-motion, and for a brief, disoriented moment, you weren't sure what was happening. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and turned to look at him, confused.
"Shit," Mike muttered, his voice low and strained, his eyes wide with sudden realization. "Abby."
It took a second for his words to register in your mind. Abby. The school. Mike was supposed to pick her up.
"Oh god," you groaned, the realization hitting you just as hard as it had hit Mike. "What time is it?"
His body jerked up from the bed as he searched for his clothes. He glanced at the screen, his face paling even more as he saw the time.
"She's going to kill me," Mike muttered, his voice laced with panic as he quickly pulled on his shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to his still-damp skin. "I'm so late."
You sat up, the sheets pooling around your waist, your own exhaustion forgotten in the sudden rush of urgency. Mike was already halfway dressed, his hands fumbling as he zipped up his pants, his expression a mix of frustration and panic. You couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of him.
"Hey," you called softly, catching his attention just as he was about to bolt out of the room. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, still completely naked, your body covered in the marks that Mike had left on you.
He froze, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your naked and marked up body. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with something you recognized all too well. For a brief moment, it seemed he was considering staying, the sight of you was almost enough to make him forget his panic.
"She's going to be pissed at you" you teased, standing up from the bed and walking over to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You reached out to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.
Mike blinked, momentarily stunned by the kiss, his lips still parted slightly as he stared at you. His eyes roamed over your body again, taking in the marks he had left on you, the way you stood there, so completely unashamed, so completely his.
"You look..." Mike's voice trailed off, and he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're perfect."
"So perfect" Mike murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes still locked on yours. His hand reached out almost instinctively, his fingers brushing over the marks on your neck.
You leaned into his touch, your lips curving into a soft smile.
"Go," you said softly, your voice teasing but affectionate. With a resigned sigh, he gave in. He leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, slow and lingering, before pulling away.
"I'll be back," he promised, his voice low and filled with affection. "Don't go anywhere."
You smiled, giving him a playful push towards the door. "I'm not going anywhere, Mike. Now go."
If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.
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lady0ctavia · 3 months ago
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What They'd Do for a First Date (Axis, Allies, & Nordics)
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Something very quick because I just really wanted to get this idea out there. Also, I'm spending more and more time on my 2p!Prussia x Reader fic, but I wanted to make sure the rest of y'all are being fed.
So here are my headcanons on where I think a large chunk of the Hetalia boys would do for a first date!
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Italy: While Feliciano's down for pretty much anything, he'd want to make sure the first date is something special. As such, he'd plan a nice, romantic dinner for the two of you where he cooks the food.
Germany: Ludwig would want to have the date at his house where you'd bake something together. He'd rather make either cake or bread. But he'd be open to hearing your ideas on what the two of you can bake.
Japan: I can see Kiku taking you to a painting class. Nothing super fancy or advanced, but something small, simple, and fun. Something where the two of you can delve into your creative side.
Prussia: Gilbert would 100% take you to the movies. He'd be down for seeing whatever you wanted to see, though he's more partial to action/adventure films. However, he wouldn't be opposed to horror, as he likes the idea of you getting scared and holding onto him.
Romano: Lovino will take you on a long walk around Rome sightseeing. He'd be pointing out every last bit of architecture you see and would recite a full history of everything. He's also the kind of guy to wanna take you on a boat ride.
America: Two words; amusement park. Alfred will absolutely take you to an amusement park or a state fair where you'd eat all kinds of fried foods, go on all of the rides, and, if it's a state fair, take you to the petting zoo. He'd also stress over planning the perfect kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel where the two of you'd watch the fireworks.
England: A first date with Arthur would be at a bookstore similar to that of Barnes and Noble. He'd want to look at different books with you and then chat about them over a cup of tea at an adjoining cafe.
France: I know it's kinda cliche at this point, but Francis would bring you to a fancy restaurant for a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Preferably in an area of the restaurant that is somewhat secluded. Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it!
Russia: Ivan would simply want to go for a walk. Nothing big and fancy. He's perfectly content with something quiet and simple. He'd want to just stroll around town and chat about any of your shared likes or hobbies.
China: Maybe this is a little funny, seeing as he's so old, but Yao would take you to a museum. Mainly to constantly fact-check the workers there, as well as the displays. Especially if it's a Chinese museum. He's been around for 4000+ years, honey. He knows more than the people who work there.
Canada: Okay, this can go one of two ways. Matthieu would either take you on a nature walk through the beautiful Canadian woods, or he'd take you to a hockey game. Either way, the night will end with the two of you going in for a kiss, only to get interrupted by Mr. Kumajiro.
Denmark: I know this is gonna sound ridiculous, but Mathias would absolutely take you to the Lego Store. There is no way you can convince me that this man doesn't love Legos. He'd get cute little minifigures made of the two of you.
Sweden: I can see Berwald either being content with sitting at home and drinking hot cocoa, going to a musical performance of some kind, or, dare I say it, going to an IKEA and talking about what pieces of furniture would look the best in his or your living room.
Norway: Lukas would take you out into the woods late in the evening for the two of you to stargaze. He'd point out different constellations and tell you the stories behind them.
Finland: Alright, we all know Tino's a cutie, but don't let that adorable face deceive you. A first date with this man will either end up with him taking you to a heavy metal concert, or taking you out sharpshooting.
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roosterforme · 2 years ago
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Batting Practice Part 16 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After the perfect day at the ballpark and a Phillies victory, the only thing you want is a sleepover with Bradley. But it's the care and attention he gives not only you, but also your son, that makes you want more and more with him.
Warnings: Smut, fluff and swearing
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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You were leaning across the seat, kissing Bradley's neck and whispering how much you had missed him while he drove. "The last week without you was unbearable, Coach."
"Kitten," he groaned as your hand cupped him through his jeans. "Baby, I'll never hurt you again. I'm so sorry."
You licked his jaw and whispered, "I know you won't. I believe you."
Bradley still felt like he was imagining this. He managed to get you and Everett back, but he would absolutely refuse to thank Jake for helping him. Hangman owed him that much. 
But Bradley would thank you. Over and over again.
"You can trust me, Kitten. I'm an idiot, sure, but I won't hurt you or Everett. You know I can't stand to see that kid cry."
You moaned softly next to his ear. "That makes you so sexy." As your fingers stroked along his inner thigh, he exited the highway and checked to make sure Everett was still sleeping in the rear view mirror. "Will you sleepover with me?"
He parked in your driveway behind your car and yanked you onto his lap. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. I'll stay with you." You were yanking at his hair and rubbing yourself on him, and Bradley was trying his best to focus. He needed to get Everett inside and in bed before he could do anything else, and you didn't seem like you'd be able to make the best decisions on your own right now.
Bradley took your chin a little roughly in his hand. "Kitten, let me get Ev inside and tucked in bed first, yeah?"
You bit your lip and shivered in his arms, and he thought about just fucking you in the driveway. "Okay. Yeah. Let's take him inside."
Bradley lifted you out of the Bronco and set you down outside, and then he opened the back door and lifted Everett out of the booster seat. You ran ahead of him and unlocked the front door and turned on some lights. "Bedrooms are upstairs," you whispered as you kicked off your shoes, and Bradley followed you up the steps. 
Everett's bedroom was to the right, and when you flipped on the nightlight, Bradley saw that it was a hodgepodge of dinosaurs, baseball and trains. You pulled Everett's shoes off and set his home run baseball and Phillies cap on his dresser next to the baseball card binder. Bradley took his time, setting Everett gently down in his bed and smoothing the sheet and comforter over him. 
He stood there for a moment, and you slipped your hand in his but didn't pressure him to leave yet. Bradley loved being in your house and seeing Everett's room. He turned toward you and scooped you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Thanks for coming today," he whispered, carrying you back out into the hallway. "It would have killed me to have the third seat empty."
You pressed your lips to his as he found your room at the other end of the hallway, while your fingers tugged through his hair. The bedside lamp was on, and the room was glowing in the soft light. "I didn't want to have to tell you no."
He grinned against your lips. "I bet I can make you say yes a bunch of times."
You gasped against his lips, and he was about to set you down on your bed, when he paused. The stuffed Phanatic was propped up on your nightstand, and you were rubbing yourself against his abs again. He wanted you so badly in every way.
"Bradley," you whined, and he eased you gently down onto your back and kissed your lips and your chin and your neck. 
He nudged your legs further apart and whispered against your neck, "Kitten, is this a good time to ask you to officially be my girlfriend?" 
You grinned. "It's an excellent time."
"Mmm, good. Yeah." He kissed your lips hard, but you broke away, giggling underneath him. 
"Aren't you going to ask me?" You propped yourself up on your elbows and ran your feet up and down his thighs. 
"Oh, right. Kitten, will you be my girlfriend?"
"Yes," you replied, unbuttoning his jersey and pushing it off his shoulders. You yanked his undershirt off and tossed it across the room, running your fingers through his sparse chest hair. Bradley awkwardly kicked his shoes off, sending one of them under your bed while you giggled again. But when he yanked your shirt up and pressed his lips to your belly button, you moaned. He kissed your soft skin while he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. 
"Mmm, I love you." When his tongue peeked out to taste you just above your pink lace underwear, you bucked up against him. "Relax, Kitten. I'll get my mouth on that pussy soon, baby."
"Bradley!" you groaned, bucking again before he hauled you to the middle of the bed so he had more room to work. 
"I'm right here," he replied softly, kissing your lips as he eased your shirt up. You arched your back so he could remove it, and he found a pink bra that matched your panties. "This is cute. I'm starting to think you wore this on purpose today."
You sighed as he stroked your tits through the fabric. "Nothing wrong with hoping," you told him as he yanked your jeans off. Bradley guided your legs up in the air and kissed the backs of your thighs, slowly easing your underwear along your legs and past your bent knees. He groaned as your pussy and your ass were on display for him, and he tossed your panties aside. 
"God damn, Kitten." He held your thighs with both hands and then spread your legs apart, sinking down until he was kissing your inner thighs and inhaling your perfect scent. "Fuck."
You reached down, tangled your fingers in his wavy hair, and guided his head until his mustache was brushing against your wet slit. "Taste me," you demanded breathlessly. "Now."
Bradley sucked on your slit, getting his face coated in your wetness as your fingers tightened in his hair. He dipped his tongue inside you without warning, and the sound you made had him grunting against you. He sucked and nibbled on you next to your opening and you were rubbing yourself up to meet his every move. 
"Bradley," you gasped, running your feet along his shoulders as he pressed his nose against your clit. When he dragged his lips up to suck on you there, you moaned a string of expletives in such a husky voice, his cock throbbed in his jeans. He sealed his lips around you and used his tongue, and a moment later you were practically screaming, still pulling his hair. 
"Kitten," he growled, looking up at you, back arched off the bed in pleasure. You were going to get loud, and while he couldn't fucking wait, he needed to close the door. He kissed you softly and licked you once before he released you and stood. 
"Where are you going?" you whined, propping yourself up on one hand with wide eyes and parted lips. You looked like a dream, pouting at him to come back to bed and bring you pleasure. Bradley unzipped his jeans, grunting as he freed his cock. He pulled his jeans off and stroked himself through his boxer shorts as you whimpered.
Then he softly closed your bedroom door and made his way back to the bed. "Just wanted to close the door so you can get louder." You eased yourself onto your back and watched him crawl across the bed toward you. He pushed you down into the plush bedding, letting his weight rest on top of you while he kissed your lips, and your tongue came out to taste yourself on him. You whimpered, and it was such a pretty sound. He pressed his mustache just below your ear and asked, "You want my mouth on your pussy again?"
"Please," you gasped, and Bradley watched your eyes flutter closed as he slipped one finger inside you.
"Been thinking about getting you wet since the pool party. Wanted to fuck you in the kitchen that day."
Your guttural groan as he added a second finger had you bucking against his hand. When you grabbed him by his hair again, he grinned at you. "Okay, Kitten," he mumbled and he eased himself down your body to wrap his lips around your clit again, making you get louder.
-------------------------
You were soaking wet. You'd never been this wet before. Bradley had his face buried in your pussy, and you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself too, especially whenever you guided him with your hands in his hair. But now that you were close, you wanted to feel his cock inside you. "I want you to fuck me," you whined, wondering if you'd even be able to sit up right now. You were pretty sure you left a wet spot on the bed, and Bradley was licking your mess from his lips as he took his boxers off. 
You reached for him with your legs spread wide, and when you wrapped your fingers around his velvety length, he moaned. "I just want to make this perfect pussy feel good," he growled as he knelt between your wet thighs. 
Your moan was loud as you sat up and scooted closer to him until his cock was rubbing against your pussy. "Oh god, you're making me crazy, Coach," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. He guided you back down, his tip pressing into your entrance as you keened for him. "Please!" You thrust your hips toward him fucking yourself around him as your head tipped back. 
"Kitten, baby, do you have condoms?" he asked, but you could feel him pushing himself deeper as he grunted. 
"I'm on the pill," you told him, and then he bottomed out inside you as you screeched. "Oh! God, Bradley! And I always made Frank use a condom."
He grabbed your hips and started thrusting. "Fucking hell, baby. You're so god damn tight," he gasped, moving inside you. "And you're gonna let me fuck you bare? I love you, Kitten. I do. This is too much. You feel so fucking good."
You knew you were getting loud, but you couldn't help it. He loved you. "Say it again," you demanded as his big hands wrapped around your back to unclasp your bra. He met your eyes as he tossed the pretty lace aside. 
"I love you." Then his lips were wrapped around your nipple as he fucked you hard, making your breasts bounce against his face. "How could I not? You're perfect."
You basked in the feel of him inside you and on top of you. His movements were so intentional, unlike anyone else. He was making you feel like everything you wanted and needed was important.
His jaw was clenched as he pressed his face against your neck and kept you so full of his big cock, you were already getting close. "I should have known," he growled. "Should have known you'd make all these noises like you did in the Bronco. Like you did over the phone when I was away. You like getting loud."
You were making a gasping sound as Bradley pressed his lips to yours, and you couldn't keep quiet. "Bradley!"
"Baby, you'll wake Ev," Bradley told you, and all the veins in his neck were straining as he pounded you into the bed before withdrawing. "Roll over."
You did as you were told, and it was maybe even better. Bradley fucked you face down into your pillow while he wrapped his right arm around your waist to rub your clit with your butt popped up in the air. He kept bottoming out and holding himself there, and each time it felt like another thread snapped until you were tumbling into your orgasm. 
"I love you, Kitten," he whispered next to your ear. "I love you."
You squeezed his cock, rocking your hips back into his as he filled you with his cum, his fingers finally slowing on your overstimulated clit. You lifted your head to look back at him over your shoulder, panting to catch your breath. 
"You're wild," Bradley said with a soft laugh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. 
You didn't know you were wild. Frank was a dud in bed, and Danny only got you off occasionally, but it was never on purpose. Wild. Maybe you were only like this for Bradley. 
"I couldn't even get off with Frank unless I was thinking about you," you reminded Bradley and he kissed your shoulder blade. 
"Oh, I know. I love thinking about that," he said, his lips moving against your skin. "I love that I can make you wild." You settled your cheek against the pillow as Bradley kept himself buried inside you. He kissed along your shoulders and caressed your lower back and thighs with his hands as he eased you flat against the bed. 
His lips, hands and mustache were giving you goosebumps, and when he finally withdrew from you with a soft groan, you were in a blissful state of relaxation on your pillow. 
"Kitten, I need to go out to my car," Bradley murmured, climbing out of bed.
You sat up and watched him reach for his boxers and his undershirt. "I thought you were going to stay with me?" Now he was reaching under your bed in search of his shoes. 
"I am, baby," he promised as he stood, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead. "I have something for you in my glove box. I'll be right back."
You snuggled under your blanket and listened to his feet on your stairs and the squeak of your front door. When you didn't hear his Bronco start up, but rather the sound of your front door again, you sighed in relief. He was staying. He was going to stay over.  
"This is for you," he announced softly as soon as he walked back into your room in just his underwear, shoes and a plain white tee. He was so handsome and looked so eager, you smiled and sat up. He was holding a golden chain with a little charm on it. "I didn't want to give it to you earlier and make it seem like I was just trying to get you to take me back. I bought it in Lemoore, and it's been in my car."
He sat down next to you as you grasped the little paw print charm and laughed. "Is this because you call me Kitten?"
He stroked your neck and kissed you so softly. "You're my Kitten," he whispered, and your nipples got hard for him as he clasped the necklace in place. 
Bradley gathered you onto his lap and ran his fingers along the chain. It was the only thing you were wearing, and you felt like it was a label. "Looks good," he told you, letting his fingers trail down between your breasts eliciting a whimper from you. Bradley groaned and let his fingers drift all the way down your belly until he was stroking your clit. 
To your surprise, you were ready for him again. You were still filled with his cum, but he didn't seem to mind as kissed your necklace and teased two fingers at your entrance. You rode his fingers as he moved at a leisurely pace, like it didn't matter how long it took, he was planning on getting you off at least one more time. 
"You have such a sweet pussy, Kitten. Are you wet because you want me or because you're filled up with my cum?"
You moaned at his words, head tipped back as you rubbed yourself against his undershirt. 
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, and you felt yourself clench softly around his fingers. 
"It's both," you whined, and he stroked your clit, your body responding like it was a reward. "I want you! And your cum is in my pussy!"
His lips settled unhurriedly on your neck, and he urged you to straddle him and grind yourself against his erection. He was hard, but he wasn't rushing you, so you got yourself good and worked up. Your voice was unsteady, and you felt yourself shaking as he pulled his boxers down below his balls, and you rode him right there on the edge of the bed. He was big and strong, and his feet were planted firmly on your floor. 
You bounced on him until you were gasping his name, head tipped back while he held you in place with both of his big hands on your hips. He was stroking your skin with his thumbs and praising you, and every time your clit met his pubic hair, you almost lost your mind. 
"I love feeling your body enjoying me," he whispered against your breasts. "So tight and warm."
You circled your hips a few times, and then you were making some seriously crazed noises as you came. Your movements became jerky, and then you went a little boneless as he held you tight. And when you felt more of cum dripping out of your pussy, you decided you wouldn't mind if Bradley kept you filled like this all the time. 
Exhausted, you draped your arms around his neck and let him hold you. He was telling you how good you were as you shivered at his touch. 
"You're staying, right?"
"I'm not leaving."
---------------------------------
You were curled up in bed, wearing Bradley's undershirt with the front of his body pressed to your back. "What time do I need to leave in the morning, Kitten?"
Your contented sigh had his lips on your shoulder immediately. "Do you want to stay for breakfast before work?"
Now that you mentioned it as an option, it was literally the only thing Bradley wanted. "Is that okay? With Ev?"
"Mmm," you hummed. "If you're my boyfriend, then I think Everett can get used to you being around." Your voice was sleepy, but you had Bradley fully alert now. "Unless you need to leave early to get your uniform."
"I'll make pancakes," he promised as you dozed off. It took him awhile, but your even breathing finally lulled him to sleep as well, his big hand spread across your belly. 
When your alarm went off at six, you and Bradley both jolted awake. You scrambled away from him to grab your phone and turn it off, and then Bradley was pulling you into his arms again. He'd slept so soundly in your bed, and whether it was because he was finally no longer in turmoil or because you made him feel so good, he wasn't sure. But as you turned in his arms to face him, he thought maybe it was both. 
"Morning, Coach," you whispered with a smile as you kissed him softly. Your fingers were laced with his, and you were so close to him, he could touch any part of you he wanted. And so he did. 
He ran his hand up your back, enjoying the feel of your soft skin against his calloused palm. "I love you."
You smiled as your eyes drifted closed. "I love you, too. Yesterday was perfect."
"You're perfect," he replied instantly, and he meant it. "What time does Ev get up? I don't want to make him uncomfortable, so you can kick me out if you want."
You glared at him. "I thought you were making me pancakes?"
He laughed against your lips. "I can do that."
Bradley took a quick shower with you, and then he dressed in his jeans and undershirt while he watched you get dressed in one of your suits for work. You put on a little makeup and talked to him the whole time. It felt natural, like you and he did this on a regular basis. 
"It's Monday!" you said suddenly. "I'll get to see you at practice!" You were adjusting your new necklace, and Bradley couldn't take his eyes off you. 
"I've been thinking, I need to start practicing more with Everett, pitch to him for real. Because if he wants to graduate from tee ball to baseball next year, he's going to need some more of the basic skills. But we do have almost a year to get him there."
You turned to look at him fully, your lips parted, but you didn't say anything for a moment. "You're gonna stick around," you whispered, and he wasn't sure if it was a question or not. 
"Yeah, Kitten." He nodded without a doubt in his mind. 
Then he heard the toilet down the hallway flush, and when you opened your bedroom door with Bradley behind you, Everett was standing in the hallway outside his room. His eyes were wide. You went to him, wrapping him in a hug with your high heels in one hand. 
"Morning, Ev." You kissed the top of his head, but he was looking past you to Bradley. And suddenly Bradley was wishing he had left when your alarm went off, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset this kid. 
"Did you have a sleepover?" he asked, and Bradley nodded but let you do the talking. 
"Uh, yeah... and now Bradley offered to make us some pancakes before I take you to school."
Everett nodded and asked, "Next time you sleepover, can we make a pillow fort before bed?"
"Absolutely, kiddo," Bradley confirmed with a smile. "Should I try to make pancakes that look like baseballs and bats?"
"Yeah! That's a good idea! Especially since the Phillies won!" Everett cheered, and Bradley followed him down to the kitchen with you right behind him. He got everything ready for pancakes, and soon Everett was eating three baseballs and a weird looking bat while you packed three lunches. 
Bradley sat at the table and ate with Everett next him and you across from him, listening to Everett complain about his math homework. And he felt like he fit in here. He could make pancakes and pillow forts and have a packed lunch made for him. He could do math homework and make you scream all night. He could love this shit. 
"Math is important," he told Everett. "I use it all day at work. So does your mom. And if you want me to teach you how to keep baseball stats, you'll need to be proficient."
Everett's eyes went wide. "You'll teach me how to do baseball stats?"
"Of course, kiddo. I gotta go home and get my uniform before I'm late, but I can help you with math homework one day if you want. I'll see you at practice later." He patted Everett's shoulder and collected all the dirty dishes so you didn't have to, depositing them in the sink. Bradley picked up the paper bag that said Coach in your handwriting, and he smiled. And then he pulled you out of your seat and into his arms. 
"Have a good day. We'll see you at practice later," you whispered. And Bradley kissed your cheek. 
"I can't wait. I love you." And then he headed out to the Bronco with a bounce in his step.
------------------------------
You and Everett both looked at your front door as it clicked closed behind Bradley. When you turned to face your son, you were bracing yourself for the conversation you figured you might need to have if he seemed upset. But he looked absolutely elated, his expression rivaling the way he looked when the Phillies defeated the Padres last night. 
"Ev, do you want to talk about-"
"Mommy! Coach Bradley loves you!" Everett shouted, cutting you off. 
Your son was staring at you in wonder and you walked around the table to give him a hug. "Yeah."
"Do you love him, too?"
You kissed Everett's head and whispered, "Yeah. I do."
"This was the best weekend ever!"
You couldn't help but agree. 
------------------------------
Coach loves Kitten and Ev! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 17
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smutty-ki113r · 1 year ago
Text
🛩Masky🛩||Toxic
NSFW||~ One shot x afab gn!reader, includes- vouyerism, pleasure dom masky, mirror play, teasing, edging, pilot masky, minors—dni (3.4k)
Inspired by: Britney Spears
(Fun fact I wrote this on the plane 😗)!
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Working as a flight attendant was such a hassle, keeping you up at ungodly hours and having you deal with customers that complained about their seat. But it certainly had its perks, learning how to balance 4000 ft in the air and ending up in some incredible places, layovers in Hawaii, Dubai, Spain. Out of all these things you never would have imagined joining the mile high club…
You had an hour to get from terminal 1 to 3, your last flight was to Miami, so you were at MIA, looking around for a bathroom. Fixing up your hair quickly and adjusting your uniform before reaching the gate.
The other attendants were also waiting to the side, you were early. Of course you had to board the plane beforehand to check the seats and restock the drink cart.
There was only a few passengers waiting around too, you swayed against your luggage. Looking around to see the two pilots that would be driving the plane walking towards you, one of them you had flown with before, Brian Thomas.
The other one, particularly, caught your eye- probably because you had caught his first. Your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a friendly smile, then averted your gaze to avoid being awkward.
You had never seen him, he was probably new, laughing at something Brian said, but his sight was on you.
The corner of his lip was raised just slightly, he was practically undressing you with his eyes. You couldn’t even complain, he was hot as fuck, and he was flustering you. But his face remained innocent, nobody noticed but you.
He had this dark brown hair and defined features, he was classy, wearing his white uniform and a tie, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to how it fit him so perfectly. His build so defined- you stopped from staring at his pants.
If there’s one thing you loved it was a man in uniform.
Nobody had ever flirted with you on the job, and while no words were exchanged, you could feel his burning gaze.
You gulped and tried to look ahead, relieved when they called for all the attendants to board, it took the pressure off.
You took your post at the front of the plane and awaited for the passengers to board to then do the safety demonstrations and make sure everybody had their seatbelts on.
Soon enough zone 1 people started coming and you greeted them all, the door to the cockpit opened and you found yourself face to face with the pilot, glancing at his name embroidered in gold.
“Wright” you said softly, meeting his gorgeous eyes.
“yeah like the Wright brothers” he joked, looking you up and down and giving you a subtle smirk.
“That’s fitting” you told him. “Nice to meet you…”
“Tim” he finished, catching your name as well. “We’re about to take off, be a dear and get me some water will you?” He requested.
Nodding obediently and scurrying off to find him some water, he watched you go. Knocking on the door to the pit to alert them of your arrival and handing him the drink.
“Thank you gorgeous” he said, your face turning red at the compliment and instead moving to greet the other pilot, Brian nodded to you and you left.
Your thoughts remained on the beautiful man and you mindlessly did your rounds before the plane took off. Strapping in and listening to the men over the intercom.
“And we are ready for departure, flight 113 from MIA to JFK”
Smiling at yourself at the thought of your one day vacation in New York City. You wanted to go shopping and maybe visit the Statue of Liberty.
It was two hours into the grueling flight, your ears had already popped from the altitude, you never did get used to that.
You sat at the back, passing around the cart once and letting your other fellow flight attendants do the rounds for trash and such. You were all alone, looking out the window, your head in the clouds, and being almost startled as you saw the handsome man approach.
“I thought you were driving this thing” you whisper-hissed.
“Brian’s doing it, I’ve been at the wheel for almost three hours” he said, stressed. Flexing his arms out and stretching, leaning against a wall.
You couldn’t help but stare at his hands, his thick fingers, how you wished he could fill you up and make you pant out his name and-
Shaking yourself out of your thoughts and getting up, “you can have my seat if you want” he was probably exhausted.
“Sit back down” he said, his tone low. You did as he said; a tingle in between your legs at how commanding he was.
“I just came here to get a- snack” he said slowly, smiling as if he wasn’t looking at up and down you when he said that.
“I can make you something if you like” you offered, his tense posture relaxed.
“You’re a godsend, yeah, I’ll take a black coffee” you nodded attentively and got up to make his drink. Focusing on making sure it didn’t spill and stirring it for him.
Turning to him and handing him the drink, he took a sip and set it down on the counter. “Thank you beautiful”
You shook your head, it was nothing, “yeah of course” you laughed nervously, “whatever you need” you told him in a passing tone.
His gaze pierced through you, “whatever I need?” He said, his voice teasing, dripping with desire.
Right then you knew you had made a grave mistake, gulping and looking away. He approached you, his lips so close to your ear, tucking hair behind your ear and letting his fingers brush upon your neck.
God damn turbulence betrayed you, swaying the plane and making you lose your footing and slide right into him. His hand at your waist to keep you upright.
“Now that you mention it” he whispered in your ear. “There was something else…and I’m still hungry” his gentle touches were making you weak at the knees.
You glanced behind him but nobody was watching, you were afraid of what would happen if you were caught, he seemed to notice.
“I’ll be careful” he promised, his head an inch away from being buried in the crook of your neck, and he smelled so good, like this expensive manly cologne.
“We’ll be quick” his words so soothing and convincing you. There was already a feverish throbbing at your clit that you severely needed to attend to. A wave of desperate heat at your lower abdomen that you craved for him to satisfy.
You couldn’t resist this man, he had a mesmerizing effect on you. So you focused on his lustful gaze as he walked you back into one of the bathrooms, locking the door behind him and wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you.
Tim sealed the small space separating the two of you, a knee already in between your legs because of how compact the space was. You let out a few pants at the way he rubbed you, unable to stop yourself even though there might have been people just outside that door.
His kisses passionate and needy, like he had been craving you ever since the moment he laid eyes on you. And everything he did was intoxicating, you were so receptive to him, slick already gathering in your panties as he met your lips in an open kiss and bit down on your lip, nibbling and teasing you,
There was barely any space in that bathroom, moving around and escaping him would be difficult, it almost didn’t give you a choice, but Tim felt so good, you couldnt help but whisper his name in need.
“Oh fuck” he cursed, “your kisses are so delicious” he reached a hand down to your stomach, trailing it down your torso to your most intimate area, replacing his knee and pressuring your cunt gently through your skirt, “I wanna know if the rest of you tastes just as good”
Your breath hitched when he hoisted you on the small counter, your pussy embarrassingly wet at every one of his touches. He spread your knees open and bent down to get to work.
“So this is what you meant by hungry” you said in the middle of the heated moment.
His eyes met yours and you gulped at the mischievous glint swirling his pupils. Feeling a throb at the view of the captain on his knees. “Exactly” He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to your thighs impatiently, sinking his teeth into your soft skin and leaving marks nobody would know about but him.
You whined, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any lewd noises escape. “Oh god” you whispered, when he finally got to your pussy. It was too much tension, his hot breath lingering where his teeth marks lay, and now- right on your clit.
He hooked his fingers to your panties and brought them down, amused at the wet spot on them. Now there was nothing else below that short skirt. Your body involuntarily bucked forward, and his big hands held you in place. “Impatient are we?”
But he was just as rushed as you, it was supposed to be a quickie in the bathroom not lovemaking. If you wanted to do that later he would gladly lay you down in a proper bed and do so, but for now all he was focused on was your pussy glistening with your juices that he so desired.
Bringing his lips to you and lapping a stripe up your slit before opening you up and tasting you in full. Groaning at the sensation of your sex clenching around his tongue while he fucked you with it.
His fingers digging into your skin to bring you closer to his face and encourage you to ride as wildly as you pleased. You weren’t one to resist, your knuckles white as you held onto a handle on the wall and the roof above you. Praying that the passengers on the plane thought the rough movement was from turbulence and nothing more.
Tim ate like a starved man, in a way you had never felt before. There was no stopping him either, he wouldn’t cease his tongue fuck until he was satisfied, and nothing would please him more than you gushing over him enough to let him know you were ready for something much larger.
Besides, he couldn’t get his eyes off you, he was particularly enjoying making you squirm at the brink of your first release. He liked teasing you this much, it showed him that he held all the power, and you were wrapped around his finger. Technically you were, when he slipped one in and curled it in your soft spot.
His lips sucked at your bundle of nerves hard enough to make you spasm and clench your legs around his head, everything was going according to his plan. “Yeah? Does that feel good?” He asked, taking a breath and dipping another digit inside your dripping pussy.
You struggled to keep your voice bellow a whisper, but he didn’t seem to care about a possible audience. All he was focused on was pulling more of those pretty cries from your swollen lips. “Yes-yes” you repeated.
Your brows furrowing at the pleasure he was providing you with, and Tim himself was getting off at just the taste of you. His cock twitching in his uniform pants, he was painfully hard so he had to take himself out and stroke when you creamed on his tongue.
“You taste so sweet honey” he praised, “I love it when you struggle to speak because I’m making you cum with just my tongue” he smirked. The flat of his tongue once again swirling your swollen clit enough to make you let out a mutter of incoherent nonsense.
Too drunk off the bliss you couldn’t argue back, you didn’t want to. It was like you were in heaven, preforming acts that were so sinful they would have led you to hell.
“T-Tim” you gasped, “I’m close” you warned him, “gonna cum”
Once again he started eating you like you were his las meal on earth, your eyes rolled back in delight. But he wasn’t going to let you get off that easily, you should have known. “Not until you ask for permission”
He pulled his touch away slightly, enough to keep you just at the edge of your orgasm for a bit longer.
“Please” you cried, tears in your eyes. “Can I please cum, captain?”
The man saw the look on your face but just cooed, “you haven’t said my name” he reminded you.
“Captain wright” you babbled “captain wright”, again and again because once you spoke the magic words he just kept going faster. Pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sopping hole hard enough to make you come undone. Crying out for him and gripping onto the edge of the counter to restrain yourself.
“That’s right, just like that” he coaxed, helping you ride down from your climax so perfectly, You were thankful that he was there to hold you steady. Lapping at your release before standing up again and pressing his bare cock to your entrance.
“Gonna need you to beg for this one too” he said, to fuel his ego and also for consent reasons. His lips to your neck now. You had barely managed to come down from such ecstasy before registering what he was asking.
But you were far too gone, your cunt still clenching for him. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to satisfy him like he did you. Nodding and letting a few “please’s” to let him know you craved it too.
“Mhm that’s what I thought”, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, looking down to see if he had the package to back it up but your jaw hug open once you felt it. Prodding at you and letting his precum mix in with your slick.
“‘S not gonna fit” you said in a hiccup, eyes wide and narrowed at his heavy cock that pressed against your slit as you dripped on him. “It’s too big” you squeaked.
“Oh it’ll fit” he panted, mimicking the motions of sex but just grinding himself raw on you. “I’ll make it fit” he hissed. Finally rolling his hips into you in one swift movement. “Fuck” he cursed under his breath, it was quite a tight fit, enough to make him pause because he didn’t want to cum instantly.
A stray groan fell from your mouth but he caught it with his own, meeting you in a heated embrace. His hands on either side of you, pressing prints onto the mirror behind you. He pulled out and thrusted back in, working a good pace. You slowly acclimated to his thick girth with every stroke in your pussy.
Even with the stretch it felt so delicious, your hands clutching his once ironed uniform into wrinkled bunches. There was barely any space in that god forsaken bathroom, but it just gave him the excuse to stay closer to you. That and he just had to give smaller, quicker thrusts.
His big cock splitting you open time and time again, his tip reaching your cervix, thudding against your g spot in a way that made you squeeze him like a vice.
A hand keeping your knee open while he fucked you, practically pounding you. Making you lose your breath and your head go fuzzy. “You’re so tight” he hissed, “practically milking me”
He was panting, pulling out momentarily to turn you around and fuck you doggystyle. Except now, you could see your reflection and his own. The whole image of the captain pounding your pussy till it turned red on full display for you. A grin making its way to his lips, he liked seeing you struggle to fit him fully.
But the look on your face and the way you gripped around him told him that you wanted it, that and those obscene noises you were making every time he hilted. “Thats a good, pretty baby” he rasped, “servicing all your captains’ needs”
You looked at his eyes in the mirror, a pout on your lips from how he was acting. A hand making it’s way to your chin to redirect your gaze to your own body. “Watch yourself” he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.
“Look at yourself while you take all of me” he panted, and you felt yourself melt at the obscenity of his words. “I want you to see how good I’m fucking you”
Doing as he said and feeling his balls clap against your ass, it was almost more unholy to watch your expression and the way he made your body bounce back and forth on his cock.
“Do you see it?” He asked, “that fucked out look on your face from how deep my cock is right now”, a gentle touch at your lower abdomen to press where he was bulging. “Here, all the way inside that slutty little hole of yours” he teased.
It was all too lewd, you felt yourself sizzling with desire, about to burst again if he kept whispering those sweet words in your ear.
“You look so hot when I’m inside of you” he praised. “Mhm with me stretching you out, you’re so hungry for it” he growled. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes sir”, You were struggling to piece together your words, the ones you could were just ‘more- more more more”, so thats exactly what you said.
“Please” you cried “please sir, more”,
Your noises getting a bit too out of control, he had to discipline you. A hand moving to your lips to hold your mouth as he told you to be quiet, but that almost made it worse. Now the sound of the lewd squelch and clapping of balls was the only thing that could be heard along with your muffled groans and pants.
“Shh that’s right” he said, softly. “Just keep taking it, just let me take care of you” you nodded at the finger at your lips telling you to be silent. “stay and let me fuck that pretty pussy just a bit longer.”
You bit your tongue and did as he instructed, trying to hold on but the throbbing at your cunt was aching. “Please captain, let me cum” you whispered.
Meeting his eyes through the mirror and he seemed to relent, it’s not like he would hold on much longer either. You were squeezing him too tight, and he couldn’t pull out too much, there wasn’t any space in that damn little cabin.
His hand gripped the rails to steady himself, the other at your ass to take a handful of. “You’ve been good, go ahead, you can cum” he whispered in your ear.
It felt like such a relief, shivers going down your spine and directly to your pussy. “I’m cumming-“ you warned, fluttering around him as you found your release.
“That’s a good baby just let yourself go” he said in a raspy tone, his fingers digging so deep into your ass there would definitely be marks. “Let your captain take care of you”
Your legs were weak, trembling as he hilted and spilled deep inside of your hole, groaning into your shoulder as he filled you up.
His cock twitching as you squeezed him until his balls were empty. Eventually he pulled out, his release dripping out from your hole and down your legs.
His big hands helped you pull up your panties once again, it wasn’t much help concealing the act, your hair was all disheveled and your cheeks rosy.
His release still inside of you a lewd reminder of what had just transpired on the planes bathroom.
“You did so good for me” he praised, making sure you were good before sending you off.
He put your skirt in place, “welcome to the mile high club” he whispered with a chuckle, “have a safe flight now”
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and-claudia · 1 year ago
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Against All Odds pt. 7 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)
SHE LIVES!!!!!! Hey guys sorry it's been awhile!! This semester is crazy!! I got a little time off and was finally able to work on some writing!! I am still getting back into the swing of it so I am so sorry if this isn't my best quality!!
Warnings: more angst, allusions to SA
General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit
word count: 4000+ (shorter again, I know but I wanted to do the whole ambush part and the suburbs part together in one part, so the next one should be longer, but it may not be out until closer to Christmas once the semester is over)
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After we had all gotten a chance to clean up, Joel decided to go out and see if he could get the truck started. Meanwhile, I went around the kitchen seeing if there was anything salvageable to bring with us. 
“Truck’s ready.” Joel said as he walked in. 
“Good, I found a few cans of food in here. I figured I could check the garage too before we left.” 
He nodded before turning around and walking back out. I turned to Ellie who was throwing her bag back on. 
“You ready?” I asked. 
“Yup. I’ll help you look in the garage when we get out there.” She said as we headed for the door. 
“Thanks.” 
We got to the truck and tossed our bags in before taking one last good look around. There wasn’t much out here in all honesty. I was ready to just get in the truck and leave when Ellie called me over. 
“Hey, I found some more cans over here!” She hollered causing Joel and I to walk over. 
“What‘cha got?” I asked. 
“I found a few things, they were all under that crusty shirt.” She said pointing to it. 
When I saw it, my eyes almost bulged out of my head. I knew where that shirt came from, and it belonged to the man standing beside me who had a similar expression on his face. 
“Ellie, go wash your hands, we’ll get the cans.” I said and she gave me a weird look, “Just go do it.” 
She shrugged and did as I said. 
“Huh, never really expected to see that again.” Joel said tossing the shirt aside. 
“Yeah, me neither… Do you think Bill or Frank ever found it?” I asked. 
He only shrugged and started grabbing the cans to put in the truck. So much for a conversation. 
When Ellie got back, we loaded up the truck with everything we were taking. Joel got into the driver's seat, and Ellie got in behind him. Out of instinct, I went to get in the backseat with Ellie. I had never actually ridden up front ever. I was still in a car seat when the outbreak happened and then anytime I rode in a vehicle after that, I was always in the back. 
“What are you doing?” Joel asked. 
“What?” 
“Get up front.” He nodded to the vacant seat beside him. 
I shut the door and went to get in the front seat, “This is weird.” I commented but to tell the truth, I was kinda excited to ride up front. 
“Both of you buckle up.” Joel said, as he started the truck. 
“What?” Ellie asked. 
“This thing.” I showed her mine that I had pulled down. 
She glanced around herself before Joel turned around in his seat and reached back to help her out. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, it was really such a dad thing to do, but I tried not to dwell on it too much knowing it would only make me sad. Subconsciously, my hand went to my stomach. 
“Is it safe?” I asked as he pulled out of the garage. 
“Hm?” 
“Riding in the front when you’re pregnant, is it safe?” I clarified. 
“You think I would tell you to if it wasn't?” He asked as we began to drive away from the house. 
I shrugged and reached up to open the glove compartment. I found a cassette tape in it. It was too faded to read what was written on the side. I shrugged and opened it anyway. 
“What are you doing?” Joel asked. 
“Road tunes.” I said as I put it in. 
An old song started playing that I vaguely recognized. I reached up to change it to see what else was on it, but Joel stopped me. 
“No leave it, leave it. This is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who that is?” 
“I don’t.” Ellie said from the backseat. 
“I’ve heard of her… I think my mom used to listen to her… This song sounds a little familiar.” I said. 
We pulled up to the gate and Joel stopped. He took a deep breath before pressing the button to open it. The sun was low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow across Joel’s face. I rested my head against the window as we drove. As the song got to the chorus I heard the familiar words “And I think I'm gonna love you, For a long long time” I couldn’t help but think of Joel… and as I sat there, eyes closed, I allowed myself to pretend, even for just a moment that everything was normal… that Joel and I were together, the outbreak never happened, maybe even we were the same age, going home to tell my parents about the baby, his daughter-no our daughters- sitting in the backseat. It felt so right. It felt like a dream… too good to be true. 
Progress was slow. Once every hour or so, we were having to stop to siphon gas out of abandoned cars. During one of our stops, I was looking at the map trying to help refine our route. I traced my pinky over a route that would take us longer but would ultimately be safer. 
“Why don’t we follow that one? 84?” Ellie asked pointing to a different interstate. 
“Because 84 goes to Hartford, the QZ there is in shambles. We’re trying to avoid it, but not take forever… so I’m thinking… stay here on 90, avoid Connecticut all altogether… only issue is, it does take us further North… so it’s going to take us even longer…” I said, scanning the map for any alternatives. 
“Well, we’re already taking forever, stopping every hour.” Ellie said with a sigh as she sat back in her seat. 
“I know, but we have to.” I said with a similar sigh just as Joel opened the door. 
“We have to what?” He asked, starting the truck again. 
“Stop every hour for gas.” I said. 
“But why? I thought cars were supposed to be useful. This just seems like a major inconvenience.” 
“They were. 20 years ago. But gas breaks down over time… the stuff I’m siphoning out of these cars is practically just water now. So to keep the truck going, gotta make stops. But it beats walking there.” 
“I think found us a route to take. It takes us North a bit, but it’ll avoid Conetticet completely. I think it’s worth it if it means we avoid Hartford.” 
“Let me see.” 
I showed him and to my surprise, he agreed it was the best option. 
“We got maybe two hours left of daylight… I wanna get past Springfield at least.” He said. 
I nodded and soon we were on the road again. We had already cycled through the tape and were now riding in an awkward silence. I glanced behind me at Ellie to see what she was doing and found her reading a book. 
“Whatcha reading?” 
She held it up to show me, “‘No Pun Intended: Volume Too’ by Will Livingston,” She said with a smile, “Get it? Volume Too.” 
“Jesus.” I heard Joel sigh under his breath, hearing our conversation. 
“Is there some good stuff in there?” I asked. 
She nodded and then scanned the page she was on to find a worthy joke, “Oh here, it doesn’t matter how hard you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary.” 
I smiled, it was cheesy but good. 
“What did the mermaid wear to her math class?... An Alge Bra!” She said, laughing a little at it. 
I laughed some too and glanced over at Joel, he was shaking his head slightly, clearly not amused by the jokes. 
“I stayed up all night wondering where the sun had gone-” Ellie began another joke.
I knew this one and decided to push Joel’s buttons, just a little. 
“But then it dawned on me!” I said with Ellie. 
“No way, you know that one?” Ellie said. 
Joel looked over at me still not amused, “You can ride in the back.” He said. 
“You’re such a stick in the mud, you know that?” I said to him.
Thankfully Ellie got the hint that that was enough jokes for now and closed her book in favor of looking at what we were driving past. Both sides of the roads were covered in cars that had been forced off the road. 
“Must have been some truck.” Ellie said. 
“Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on them, and clear the roads for their tanks and such.” Joel said, not even glancing away from the road in font of him. 
“I wanna see a tank!” Ellie said. 
“I don’t.” I commented, talks usually didn’t mean good news. 
“You will. Tanks, choppers, all that stuff. But they’ll fight the wrong enemies. Just scattered around now.” He said, clearly bringing a heavier tone to our conversation than Ellie was wanting because she quickly changed the topic. 
“Oh yeah, I found this…” She said leaning forward and holding a new cassette tape in her hand, “This make you feel all nostalgic?” 
Joel glanced at it, “This is actually before my time.” 
“Great, even older, old music.” She said, sitting back.
“It’s a winner though.” Joel said, putting it in. 
“Found something else too.” Ellie said, pulling out a magazine from under the seat. 
She opened it and scanned the pages, “It’s light on the reading but it has some interesting pictures.” 
At that Joel and I both looked back to see what she had found. 
“No, no, no. Put that back.” Joel said immediately, meanwhile, I was just trying not to laugh.
During the whole exchange, I was just trying not to laugh, but then I was sent over the edge when I heard Ellie say, “Why are all these pages stuck together?” 
I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I started laughing so hard it was difficult to breathe. What made it even better was Joel trying to come up with a response. He stumbled over his words and couldn’t get an answer to form. 
“I’m just fuckin’ with ya.” Ellie said, before scooting over to the window and tossing it out. 
I was in tears by this point. 
“Dude, chill, you’re gonna piss yourself.” Ellie said. 
“I’m trying not to.” I said, whipping the tears from my eyes. 
After that, the drive died down. Every so often we would comment on what we saw. We passed some wild buffalo that had roamed more and more since the outbreak. We passed an old amusement park. You could see the old rollercoasters still standing tall. I had always wanted to ride one, but never got to. Joel told us about a few that he had been on when he and his brother went to Six Flags Fiesta Texas, a couple of my brothers had been there before too, I was just too little to go with them. Later on we saw the tanks that Joel promised. And just like the hundreds of cars we had passed, they were left abandoned on the side of the road. 
I was grateful when Joel announced that we had done enough driving for the day and pulled the truck off the main road, across a field, and into the tree line to keep us hidden. I got out and stretched. Sitting all day had made my knees stiff. 
“I’m gonna make us some food.” Joel said and I nodded. 
“I’m going to go find a place to pee.” I said, walking the other way. 
When I got back I could smell the food and it made my stomach rumble. 
“What is that?” I asked, walking over to stand by Joel. 
“20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” He said. 
“Could’ve left out the ‘20-year-old’ part.” I said, taking a seat. 
“You can raid what we have, it’s slim pickings though, but I guess if the smell or something is already making you feel sick.” He said. 
“Oh, no, I feel fine. It smells really good actually.” I said, happy that I didn’t feel like I was going to puke anytime soon. 
“Good. Here.” He said scooping some out and handing it to me, “Ellie, come eat.” He called the young girl over. 
Ellie took her portion and sat down with it then immediately dug in. 
“Slow down some.” Joel said. 
“This is good stuff, what is it?” She asked between bites. 
“Chef Boyardee.” 
“That guy was good.” She said, shoving another bite into her mouth. 
“I actually agree.” 
“Me too.” I nodded, taking a bite of my own. 
“So… how long we staying out here?” Ellie asked. 
“I figured I sleep tonight and drive tomorrow, all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.” Joel said. 
It wasn’t a bad plan, I just didn’t know if he’d be able to stay up that long without dosing off. Ellie must have thought the same thing. 
“Why doesn’t Yn take a shift driving? I feel like that’s a lot of driving for just one person.” She said. 
“I don’t know how to… well, I know the logistics of it, but I’ve never actually done it before. And don’t think right now is the time for driving lessons.” I said. 
She nodded before firing off another question, “Can we start a fire? I’m freezing.” 
I already knew the answer but Joel beat me to it, “Now why am I going to tell you no?” 
“Because infected will see the smoke.” She said with a sigh. 
“Fungus ain’t that smart.” He shot back. 
“We’re too remote now for infected.” I chimed in. 
“Okay, so people?” She asked and we nodded, “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” 
“Oh, they’ll have way more in mind than that.” Joel said. 
Ellie nodded, understanding what he meant. A young girl, a woman in her 20s, and an older man wouldn’t be much of a fight against raiders, and if a big enough group got to us and overwhelmed us, they could easily have their way with any of us. It was a scary thought, but it was just the reality of what could happen. 
Conversation died off after that and we finished our meal in quietness. Then after that, we got ready to settle down for the night. We each grabbed a sleeping bag and brought them over to the lantern to set up. 
“Actually smells pretty good.” Ellie commented as she laid her’s out. 
“That would be Frank’s then.” Joel said. 
“That would mean you have Bill’s.” I said, popping the tag off of mine. I had found an unused one in one of Bill’s supply stashes. 
I hesitated as I thought about where to lay mine out. Yes Joel and I had a few moments today where we seemed like our old selves before we knew about the baby, but I wasn’t 100% sure where we were overall and I didn’t want to test my luck. So, I opted not to lay mine right next to his. We all got settled in and Ellie turned off the light. 
I was just about asleep when I heard Ellie call out for Joel. 
“Joel? Can I ask you a serious question?” She said. 
I was worried that something was wrong. 
“Yeah.” 
She took a deep breath and sighed, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?” She asked. 
There was a few beats of silence before Joel spoke up, “Because he was outstanding in his field.” 
I could see him fighting a smile. 
“You dick!” Ellie said with a laugh, “Did you read this?” 
“No.” Joel said, suppressing a laugh as he rolled over to but his back to us, “Now go to sleep. Both of you.” 
It was quiet for a few moments before Ellie spoke once again, “Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s going to find us.” 
“No one’s gonna find us.” Joel confirmed. 
“Okay.” Ellie said quietly. 
I fell sleep soon after that but was woken up only a few hours later. It was still dark out. I rolled over and saw Joel’s sleeping bag was empty. I glanced around and found him standing watch. I quietly got up and walked over to him, making sure not to startle him. 
“You should be asleep.” He said. 
“So should you.” I commented. 
He was silent for a moment, “I couldn’t… just paranoid, I guess.” 
I nodded. In the short time she’s been with us, I could tell the effect it had on Joel. I knew about Sarah. And I could tell that having Ellie around was bringing that all back to him. 
“Hey, we’ll be okay. Alright?” I said gently as I hugged onto his arm and laid my head on his shoulder. 
I could feel the way he relaxed some and let a sigh. After a few minutes of standing there with him a yawn escaped my lips. 
“You should go back to bed. I’m gonna stay up. Just in case. We’ll stop again tomorrow night and just get to Wyoming the next day.” He said. 
“Okay.” I let go of his arm only for him to catch me by the wrist gently. 
“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. 
I nodded, “I love you too, Joel.” I said quietly. 
And I meant it. Despite the shit show we’ve been through the past few days, I did still love him. I knew we would figure this all out eventually. It would take time, but we’d get there, together. I went back to my sleeping bag and slid back into it. When I woke back up the next morning, Joel was already heating up coffee on the camping stove. Ellie was just waking up as well. About 30 minutes later, we were loaded back up and on the road again. 
Joel had poured the coffee into thermos to drink on the road. In the past, I would’ve happily shared it with him. But now the smell was revolting almost. Ellie seemed to agree. 
“Is that seriously what the Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” She asked, clearly disgusted. 
“Well, theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but yeah, this what they sold.” Joel said. 
“Smells like burnt shit.” Ellie said. 
“Yeah, it’s gross.” 
“You love coffee.” Joel said. 
I shook my head, “Not anymore.” 
“Alright, eyes on the map, where am I heading?” 
“Keep headin' south until we hit 78, that will get us to 76, then from there we’ll get to 70 west which we will stay on for pretty much ever.” I said. 
Joel nodded.
“Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” Ellie asked. 
“Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody.” Joel said. 
I scanned the map to find it and once I did I held it up to show her. 
“Wow that is deep in there… And what if he’s not there?” She asked. 
“Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement, probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of ‘em in Wyoming.” 
She nodded and I thought, more so hoped, that would be the end of her questions. I knew this was a touchy subject for Joel and I really didn’t want to upset him. 
“What’s his name?” She asked. 
“Who’s name?” 
“Your brother.” 
“Tommy.” He said. 
“Younger or older?” She fired off another question at him. 
“Younger.” “Why isn’t he with you?” 
I watched Joel for his reaction to this question. 
“Long story.” 
“Is it longer than 25 hours? ‘Cause I think that’s what we got.” She asked. 
I could tell Joel was considering his options of telling her or not. To my surprise, he began telling her about how he was a “joiner.” He told her that he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. Then after the outbreak, Tommy was the one who convinced Joel to join a group that was heading to Boston. He told her how Tommy met Marleen and how she convinced him to join the Fireflies. But last he heard he had quit that too and he was alone and that is why Joel was heading out there, to go get him. 
“If you don’t think there’s hope in the world, why bother going on?” Ellie asked. 
Joel glanced over at me for the briefest second before answering, “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know.” 
“You keep going for family. That’s about it.” He added. 
“I’m not family.” Ellie pointed out. 
“No, you’re cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” 
I could tell the conversion was making him shut down. 
“What if you don’t find him?” Ellie asked. 
It was a legitimate question. One that I was too scared to ever dare ask. 
“I will.” Joel said firmly. 
“How do you know?” 
“I’m persistent.” 
That shut the conversation right down. 
“Hey Ellie, we got up pretty early. You can take a nap back there if you want.” I said. 
“I’m not even tired.” She said. 
But sure enough after about 30 min of silence, she was out. 
“Are you okay?” I asked Joel. 
He sighed, “Yeah.” 
“You sure?” 
He only nodded. 
I decided to drop it, he had already shut down, and there was no point in making it worse. Instead, I opted to also get some rest. Later that day, Joel had changed his mind and continued driving through the night. 
I could never fall asleep very long. I ended up dosing off and on throughout the night. When I woke up again, the sun had risen and we were approaching a city. Ahead of us was an overpass tunnel and from the looks of it, it was blocked. 
“Where are we?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. 
“Kansas City. Wait here.” Joel said, turning off the truck and going to get out but I stopped him. 
“Joel, we are way too close to the city for you to go out there alone.” I said, worried about Infected or even other people attacking him. 
“I’ll be fine.” He said and got out, then he grabbed the rifle from the back seat. 
I watched anxiously as he got closer to the tunnel. There could be anything in there. After a couple minutes of looking, he began making his way back. I didn’t take my eyes off him until he was back in the car. 
“Now what?” I asked. 
He grabbed the map to look for an alternate route.
“Screw it.” He said tossing me the map. 
“What’s the plan?” I asked. 
“We go back a ways, get off the highway, come back down, take the next ramp. Puts us back on the road, 5 minutes tops.” He said. 
I sat quietly as he drove but I began to grow wary as we got deeper and deeper into the city. 
“Where the fuck is the highway?” He asked. 
“I’m trying Joel!” I said looking between the map and the signs we were passing. They were all so faded it was nearly impossible to figure out where we were and him yelling at me wasn’t helping. 
“Quit looking at the state map!” 
“Joel, I am trying my fucking best! Quit yelling at me, I’m already freaked out as it is being this far into the goddamn city!” I shot back. 
“Well we wouldn’t be if you could just give me directions!” 
“I thought you had a fucking plan? 5 minutes tops, remember?!” I shot back. 
Suddenly Ellie yelled from the back seat, “Stop!” 
We did and turned to see what was wrong.
“Is that the QZ? Where the fuck is FEDRA?” She asked. 
Sure enough to our left was the entrance to the QZ with its gates wide open. 
“We need to get the fuck out of here.” I said. 
“Hey! Please help!” We all turned to the front to see an injured man stumbling towards us. 
“Both of you seatbelts, now.” Joel said, putting his own on too. 
“Aren’t we gonna help him?” Ellie asked, clearly confused. 
“No.” Joel and I both said. 
Joel turned the car to try and get away from him. I was scanning the area for anyone else, knowing it was a trap. 
“Joel!” Was all I was able to yell as I saw a guy throw a cinder block from a fire escape. 
It hit our windshield and shattered it. Joel kept driving. We ran over something and I could feel the car drop as it popped the tires. Then another man stepped out in front of us and began shooting. Joel swerved the truck to the left. I only caught a glimpse of the glass window before we went straight through it. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact I knew was coming. 
taglist: (if you filled out a form and aren't on this list that means either a) your blog is not coming up in the searches so I am unable to confirm that you are 18+, or b) you did not follow my rules for being tagged in this fic)
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alcoholfreenayeon · 9 months ago
Text
I.N.V.U
Reader x Taeyeon
CW: Fluff, Major Angst, Self harm, Suggestion of death
Word count: 4000
Synopsis: Y/N and Taeyeon first met in the early 2010s and fell in love, however it was a case of the right person, wrong time as soon circumstances out of either of their control seemed to tear them apart. Now a few years later their paths cross again, reawakening feelings they thought they had gotten over…
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Taeyeon POV
Taeyeon fights off the tears in her eyes, trying so hard to not cry as she wrote the words she had felt during the last 3 years. ‘You made me feel the happiest I had ever been and just as quickly the saddest I had ever been. Made me lose my mind in delusion and then made me lose my mind from that unveiled illusion. Yet you seemed unchanged, unfazed, and moved on peacefully and for that I envy you’. As she translated her feelings into words, her efforts to stay strong wavered, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks as she held down her sobs. She couldn’t believe it, after all these years, after all she had been through, things were starting to go wrong, again. And now she couldn’t bear it anymore, it was time to close down this chapter once and for all. Her vision got blurry from the tears, and she rubbed her eyes slowly, but her pen flew out of her hand and dropped onto the floor, and she sighed in defeat. Even now, she couldn’t win. She tried to lean over and reach her pen, her hand almost reaching when her chair tips over and she falls to the floor. She groans loudly in frustration, that stupid chair had gotten a loose smaller leg. Picking herself, the pen, and the chair she signed off on her letter, she was about to sit again but she changed her mind, pushing the chair back. Standing, she scrolled through her phone checking to see if Y/N had responded yet. There it was once again, the two blue ticks without reply and sighed shaking her head with a sad smile. It was stupid of me to believe again, she thought to herself, as she took a step back, towards the chair, stepping up on it. Closing her eyes her mind relayed the memories of you, from the start till the present as she put the noose around her neck…….
Four Years Ago
You were getting ready to leave for work and after that you still had your classes, you sigh, knowing it was going to be a long and tiring day. As exited your apartment you heard heaving and an unpleasant screech of something heavy being dragged, you turned to see, a couple doors away a girl was struggling to push a big box towards the door. She must be someone new moving in, you conclude. Locking your door, you look at her again, sigh and walk up to her, “Excuse me, Hi, do you need some help”.
The girl stops trying to push the box unsuccessfully and turns to look at you. Panting, she rolls her eyes, “It’s okay, I think I got it”. You nod and are about to leave, you remember you had forgotten your charger and rushed to get it. As you leave your apartment for the second time, you see the girl standing and panting, frustrated clearly since the box hadn’t moved an inch and as soon as she spots you, she immediately pretends to start pushing it again…unsuccessfully again.
Suppressing a smile, you walk up to her again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help?”.
She sighs and rolls her eyes again, “Fine. Fine yes, I do need help.”.
You hold back a chuckle and begin to help her and in less than 10 minutes the two of you have moved everything in together. She looks at you and quietly thanks you, but you were having too much fun right now, “Sorry what was that?”.
She huffs and looks at you in disbelief, “Are you serious right now…. what even is your name?”.
“Y/N”, You say with a smirk, “You were saying?”.
She grits her teeth and sighs in defeat, “Fine, you win. Thank you Y/N.”
“And what’s your name?”, you ask smiling sincerely, finding her really amusing.
“Taeyeon.”, she said pouting.
Y/N POV
You sleepily yawn, this was so boring, you thought as you looked at your computer screen. Days like this really made you miss your college life. What’s the point of sitting for 8 hours in a small office with work which can actually be done in about half the time but you have to still be there the whole 8 hours and finishing early just mean more work. You sigh, at least the money is good…or seemed good at the time you started working, 3 years since and it just has remained the same, while inflation has been killing you recently. That’s when you received a couple of texts on your laptop and eagerly turned away from your PC and saw the messages from Taeyeon and smiled, things seemed to at least be going well with her now. You leaned back, stretching as you recalled when you first got this job offer…
Three Years Ago
“Are you sure about this?”, You ask nervously.
She sighs, “Of course its fine, you are with me, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us”.
You didn’t protest further but you weren’t so sure about Taeyeon’s plan, it would be absolutely disastrous if you both were caught together. But after 7 months of being together Taeyeon was starting to grow tired of having hide it, she found it really unfair that she was still banned from dating and that even if she wasn’t, technically, she still wasn’t allowed because the fans would still be on her case. Though, recently she said she might just randomly reveal her relationship with you and get it over with, however, somehow you had managed to keep her from doing it. You knew that at this point of her career it would just be really bad for her to do something like that, besides you didn’t want that type of spotlight either.
There was something else, something which you had been hoping for a long time but now that it seemed so close to being achievable it scared you more than you could imagine. You had been working so hard in college and part time and it seemed to pay off since you finally got an offer for your dream job. But it was overseas, far away from Taeyeon. And you still had to tell Taeyeon about it…
“Quick, in here”, she practically dragged you inside one of the empty rooms, it was dimly lit and not very big, but it felt quite empty, “I don’t think anyone will disturb us here”, she said smiling as she began peppering you with kisses.
“Taeyeon wait”, you take a step back, “there is something I need to tell you…”, you pause giving her a moment to know this was serious.
She looks at you seriously and then closes the distance between you both, giving you a quick peck on your lips, “What is it love?”
You take a deep breath, “I have a job offer, the one I wanted…”.
She smiles happily grabbing your face excitedly, “What! That’s amazing, your hard work is going to pay off! Maybe we can save up together and then-”, she gets cut off.
“It’s-it’s from a foreign company, so I will have to move away”, you add, “If I decide to accept it, of course”, you finish solemnly.
“Oh…”, Taeyeon said as it began to sink in what this meant, “So….are you?”
“I-I…I don’t know”, you reply darkly, knowing this was a lose-lose situation. She looks at you like she wants to say something but keeps quiet. The rest of the time you both spent together passes by quickly and rather silently as both of were thinking about what neither of you wanted to happen.
Taeyeon POV
Taeyeon took a shaky breath as she felt the rope around her neck and felt herself begin to seriously tear up as she recalled the time where you just left. Without telling her, without any hints, without any warnings, you just went. And she tried to chase you down, even almost catching up to you but falling just short while you didn’t even look back. The worst thing was that she was really sure you left because of her, only because of her. Because recently she brought it up with the board that she wanted to publicly announce her relationship with you despite the fact that it might jeopardize her own career, she didn’t care, not as much as about her relationship with you. But she knew you didn’t want her to do that because you weren’t selfish like her, that you weren’t scared like her. Yet why didn’t you tell her that you changed your mind. Why did you go so suddenly. Why did never look back once….
Y/N POV
Too engrossed in texting, you didn’t notice your colleague calling out your name until they gently slapped your shoulder.
“Helloo, Earth to Y/N, the meeting is almost about to start, everyone is waiting for you”, they say with a hint of annoyance in their tone.
“Yes, I’m coming, just a second”, you say dismissively, unplugging your phone from your laptop and switching to texting on your phone now as you slowly and absent-mindedly head towards the meeting room.
After about two hours of boredom, the meeting was finally over and you finally headed home in a hurry, the last train, you can’t miss it or else it’s going to be a long wait before you are able to catch a bus home.
Fortunately, you made it just in time, just in time to watch it leave before your eyes that is. You groan in frustration and walk defeatedly towards the bus stop. The bus you need still has an hour before it arrives. Great. None of this would have even happened if your car hadn’t decided to break down a couple days earlier. It’s like you gain one thing and lose two. At least you still have your date with Taeyeon tomorrow. It feels a bit surreal still, even though you already had seen her a few times this week, one of those times a half-date.
About an hour and a half later you finally reach home and go to your bed, exhausted. You see Taeyeon had still kept texting you and you replied back to her, telling her you were really looking forward to tomorrow and were also going to sleep now. As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but think how things ended between the two of you last time….
Flashback
It wasn’t really your fault, but it was. After giving much thought, you had decided against accepting the offer and instead remaining here and hoping you would find something else here. You even told Taeyeon that and even though she asked you a few times if you really wanted this, you could tell she was really relieved about your decision. But it all changed when went back home that day and received a call from none other than Lee Soo-man himself who revealed that Taeyeon had asked to reveal her relationship status and that he was going to turn her down. That it would harm Taeyeon, her group, and the company if it was publicized that one of the stars of SNSD was dating someone, much less a ‘commoner’. Moreover, if either of you made any further attempts to make the matter public, there would be no other option other than to put Taeyeon’s career on hold and end it at the earliest possible opportunity, in this industry at least. That wasn’t all either, all the sneaking around you and Taeyeon were doing needed to be stopped too and effectively, this open secret needed to be erased. As the comeback of the group approached, each member needed to appear ‘pure’, and you would just ruin it.
You were absolutely stunned by this, unsure what the implications would actually mean to Taeyeon’s career. You had known her for long enough to know how much she had dreamt of this, how hard she worked every day to keep a reality. Was staying here the right decision then? These restrictions given to you by the guy… when you weren’t even part of the company, yet he knew you wouldn’t have too much choice but to comply because your girlfriends’ aspirations were on the line. They will probably give her several strict rules to follow too, she’s also always so busy during the comeback period.
That’s when your doubts crept in for the first time, a grave mistake in hindsight but you didn’t know what exactly you were doing back then. Impulsively you decided to leave after all. You loved her but you were also selfish, you didn’t want to be in a relationship with her only behind closed doors. You wanted things as they were right now. What’s the point if the only place you both could enjoy peacefully was your home. You wanted to travel with her, visit cool places, eat out, go the movies. You wanted a real relationship, not one controlled by some guys in a suit who only cared about their quarterly profits. By tomorrow afternoon, you will be gone. Taeyeon wouldn’t understand, she would keep trying to convince you. Hopefully she will hate you for this. Because that’s the only way you know you can do this. You can’t bear the thought of her still loving you and waiting for you after you betray her like this.
The next morning you left in a hurry, packing everything you could and leaving for the airport, your flight in a couple hours. Your instincts fighting you the entire time you waited for the boarding call, warning you that this was a mistake, and you would be lying if you didn’t shed a few tears, but you had gone too far, your ego wasn’t going to allow you to back down now. Not even when heard your name called by her. You felt like your knees would buckle, you didn’t dare look back. You would have crumbled, you would have run straight back to her. And she would have given up her dream for you. So, you kept looking ahead pretending to not hear.
The last memory you had of her, and you ignored her and hurt her in it. That’s the sort of monster you were. You thought you would never see her again. Until she showed up last month, she had changed and so had you, but it only took a glance from a distance for you both to be drawn to each other again. Like it was destiny that you both couldn’t be kept apart from each other. You wanted to hold her, kiss her, apologize so much, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. But you just looked at her from a distance in disbelief and when she approached you to greet you, you couldn’t meet her eyes. She laughed at that. She found it amusing, saying that it happened way too long ago. You didn’t believe her though. Because you knew her. But slowly you began to warm up to her again and in a few hours, it was just like old times. Laughing and chatting about the silliest topics without a worry in a world.
You both met up once again, the very next day and the one after and it was like the old times. Almost the old times. The only thing that was different was that she seemed to be very on guard. Like she was wary of you.
It was nothing special really, just a dinner but it was hard for either of you to not think whether this was a date or not. It was like a half-date. The vibes were amazing, you both making each other laugh and filling in on what’s been happening in your lives. Teasingly kicking each other under the table even, just like the old times. And as you both left the place, she grabbed your hand, holding it softly. In the end, you even went to her place to drop her off.
She stopped by the entrance of the building and turned to look at you, “Thanks for walking me back…I did really enjoy the time we spent together today.”, She looks at you intently and then looks away quickly, “Maybe we can do something like this again?”
You grab both her hands and smile, “I was thinking of asking you that you know.”
She smiles back shyly, “You better have.”, then she suddenly gives you a quick kiss.
You can only stare back at her in surprise as you feel your cheeks color, “Wow…that’s…it’s been a long while since…”.
“And whose fault is that”, she scolds, and you look away guiltily. “Look, I am just teasing, but, if you really mean it, then no more games or half assed commitments. I need you to give your all. I am at my own limit Y/N, I don’t want the extra stress, especially from you because that just….hurts more”.
You squeeze her hands, “Yes, I know and I am sorry again. I promise you, this time it’ll be different. We’ll make it work this time. I’ll make it work this time. No matter what. Just one chance and I won’t let you down.”.
Then she kisses you, not a peck, a proper kiss, it seemed to last for hours and at the same time only a second. When you both pull away, you both can’t take your eyes off each other when she suddenly let’s go of your hands and steps away, “Sorry, I can’t, we shouldn’t. Not before we have a better idea of what we are.”. That hurts to hear but you can’t blame her. You force a polite smile and nod; she was only trying to protect herself.
“Goodbye Y/N”, she said, entering the doorway, “See you soon...”
Y/N POV
You wake up, disoriented, and look at the time, it’s already almost afternoon, you are to meet Taeyeon at her house soon. You pick up your phone and see a text from her and just as you are about to reply, your phone shuts off, out of battery. You sigh, you should have put it on charge before you slept. You turn to reach for it but it’s not there and groan, you didn’t want to get up yet. But you had to, you sigh and close your eyes for a moment as you think about Taeyeon, ‘This time I won’t let you go’, you vow and sigh.
You jolt awake, crap, you had fallen asleep again, you pick up your phone to check the time and realize you never put it on charge, you get up quickly, looking at the clock and realize you are already almost an hour late to meet her. You can charge it while driving-no you can’t, you realize since your car wasn’t available. The bus it is then, you decide, frustrated, frustrated that nothing seemed to be going right, you couldn’t find your charger, you were late. You quickly go to shower and get ready. In the midst of all that, you realize, you had taken your laptop and charger to your office…and never got it back. You didn’t shut it off either so to her it must seem like you are leaving her on read. That’s not good. Especially after you promised her. While you wait at the bus station, thankfully you manage to find a charging station. As soon as your phone turns on you send her an apology saying you’ll explain when you get there.  
After an hour you finally reached her place, as you hurried inside, you realize, you never really went to her new place and didn’t know exactly which apartment was hers. You send her another text to ask. You just knew it was on the second floor. But as soon as you got there, it became kind of obvious which one was hers, she still kept that stupid welcome mat you gave her years ago. Before ringing the bell, you decide to see if she replied yet and that’s when you want to punch yourself, you never turned on your data, so your texts never got sent, until now, however she did see it immediately. Hard to say whether that’s good or bad. Nervously, you go up to her door and ring the bell. No answer. You think you heard a small crash but it’s hard to tell. You ring the bell again. But yet again there’s no answer. You begin to feel anxious now. Was this the right place? You were beginning to think that maybe you were at the wrong door. After all someone else could have the same mat right. You knock on the door a couple times but once again. Nothing. You check your texts and nothing, despite her status being online. You wait for another 30 minutes before you give up. ‘Did she get mad? Was this the wrong door? Was she not serious? Was this her revenge?’ Your mind racing as you are flooded with pessimistic possibilities. You text her again, ‘Taeyeon you there? Are you mad at me? I am really sorry I was late, but I really can explain. And I am not going to leave until we make up. I am serious, I am not going to let go of you this time.’, you send her these texts and sit on the floor, leaning against the door. If she was mad so be it but you were not going to let things between you both end sourly again. Not now, not ever again.
Taeyeon POV
“I really wish I could hurt you like you hurt me so you know what you put me through yet for some reason even I had a chance to, I know I wouldn’t be able to do it.”, she thought to herself closing her eyes. And then she hears a ding as a notification pops off. Opening her eyes suddenly, a wave of adrenaline coursing through her as she tries to read what the screen says below. It’s from Y/N, “I’m for being so late, I’ll explain it when I get her.”, followed by, “I’m here, which is your door?”.
That’s when she hears the doorbell ring, turning her head towards the door quickly and in her relief and excitement momentarily forgetting about the rope around her neck, shifting around on the chair and in that fateful moment, the weaker leg of the chair gives way, breaking off and falling away as Taeyeon loses her balance.
Immediately, she gasps in panic and heaves hard as she tries to breathe, both her hands clasping the rope and trying to keep herself up aloft. Panic ensues and she immediately feels like it’s a lost cause, her legs desperately trying to reach for the fallen chair, the tip of her toes just about able to reach the side of it but it’s not enough. She wants to scream, she wants to call out your name but she can’t. Already she feels the strain and the strength in her arms fading. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep struggling. Her eyes begin to get blurry as tears begin to flow. She doesn’t want this. She wants it to stop. She faintly hears the knocking on the door but is more focused on holding onto the noose. Her grip begins to loosen, she can’t breathe, she feel weak, lightheaded. ‘Y/N please save me, please don’t leave me again’, the final thoughts in her mind before her the light in her eyes begins to fade, her hands gently falling back to her side and her head tilts sideways in an unnatural position as she floats about for a seconds before she stops moving completely…
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dufferpuffer · 4 months ago
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~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~
Part 3: Regarding the 'Full Moon'...
There is something fucky with the transformation night in POA. I'm going to fine-toothed comb it, collect the extra information we get about Lycanthropy from it – and try to make sense of it all.
Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)
Words: Approx. 4000
Physical Symptoms (What he feels; what he does; what happens - factual.) Perceived Symptoms (How he seems to others, health focused) Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself) Timing Information Potion information
NIGHT OF THE TRANSFORMATION – Chapters 17 - 21 Note that there is adrenaline, stress, secrets, emotions whipping back and forth – dialogue is split between seven characters. Describing Lupin's symptoms takes a back-seat to exposition. For example: Lupin looking 'pale' in a quiet moment on the train is one thing... but in a high tension situation? It's more likely to be the mood of the setting rather than describing his illness. But I am listing his more erratic behaviour anyway. B^)
Chapter 17
Pg 244 + 245 The very last rays of the sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. … … Light was fading fast now by the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them. … … But harry had just seen - slinking towards them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness - Crookshanks. … … Something was bounding towards them out of the dark - an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
The sun is setting – and has set – long before Remus arrives. Interesting. More on this later.
pg 252 The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering near to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted. Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. … … Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?'
Remus barges into a room with Sirius, three children and supposedly Peter. He doesn't know whether Sirius or Peter are guilty – but he puts the safety of the children last by taking their wands and speaking to Sirius when there is at least one murderer in the room.
pg 253 'Hermione, listen to me, please!' Lupin shouted. 'I can explain-' … … There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale. … … Ron made a valiant effort to get up again, but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made towards him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, 'Get away from me, werewolf!' Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, 'How long have you known?' 'Ages,' Hermione whispered. 'Since I did Professor Snape's essay...' 'He'll be delighted.' said Lupin cooly. 'He set that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realise I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?' 'Both,' Hermione said quietly. Lupin forced a laugh.
Remus is about to have his secret revealed – and for the first time shouts at the children. He is understandably terrified of them knowing, but as soon as its out returns right back to a forced, controlled calm... but the mask has slipped, and we can see underneath at his true feelings. Note that Ron's initial reaction is prejudice, like his mother.
pg 254 'You know how to work it?' Harry asked suspiciously. 'Of course I know how to work it,' said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. 'I helped write it. I'm Moony - that was my friends' nickname for me at school.' … … 'How d'you know about the Cloak?' 'The number of times I saw James disappearing under it ...' said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.
Harry is giving him a moment to explain himself, but he acts like THIS whenever asked a reasonable question...? Remus is waffling on about himself instead of Sirius, Peter – or making the kids safe. He is explaining what he feels is most important first: himself. Clawing back the trust and control he just lost instead of prioritizing the kids, or Sirius, or Peter.
Chapter 18
pg 256 'Sirius, NO!' Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, 'WAIT! You can't do it just like that - they need to understand - we've got to explain -'
Lupin intends to commit kill on the rat – even though doing so would probably sentence him to Azkaban, or straight to a Kiss. He is ready to throw his life away but not before he makes sure the kids 'understand' him. There is a murderer in the room, one Lupin intends to kill – and yet he is prioritizing his image...? Also he is strong enough to hold a skinny, thin Sirius back. Not too surprising – so was a cat.
pg 257 Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly. 'But Professor Lupin ... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew ... it just can't be true, you know it can't...' 'Why can't it be true?' Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.
Hermione I am sorry he is too far gone right now. Unreasonable.
pg 258 'The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me.'He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, then said, 'That's where all of this starts - with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy...'He looked sober and tired.
The noises a werewolf makes are more similar to ghosts than wolves. He blames himself for... everything. Peter being a rat and a nasty git. Life would be good if he wasn't a werewolf? Ok, bro. Nice self loathing you've got there.
'I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The Potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.' 'Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.'
- He was a very young boy when bitten – and survived. We know that being bitten is no small matter, that another small boy has died from it. He is lucky, too, that his parents kept/stood by him. - Wolfsbane is not a cure – but it is a cure to the lack of control from it. (More on that in part 5). By calling it a cure, it is like he values the control it gives him most of all and wants the children to think of him as cured, at least cured from being dangerous... ...despite missing his dose today. - Wolfsbane 'makes him safe'; 'keeps his mind'; 'curls up in his office' a 'harmless waiting wolf'. How safe is a 'harmless wolf'...? How much of his mind does he keep...? Something more than a 'fully fledged monster', I suppose... - He couldn't expect to come to Hogwarts because other people would not accept him. While that is true – we know there are laws. We know he is the ONLY werewolf to have attended Hogwarts despite Fenrir making a point to bite children. There is a little more going on than just 'parent mad'. I think it is safe to say he is being hyperbolic. That he is a 'monster' normally, that he is 'a harmless wolf' on the potion, he couldn't go to school for a silly little reason like 'grown-ups hate him'... it's him pleading with the kids. He isn't lying but he is playing it up/down.
One piece of information I want to point out here: he 'curls up in his office, a harmless wolf, to wait for the moon to wane again'. Whether he wants to or not, whether he closes all the curtains and hides under the desk: He WILL transform.
pg 259 'My transformations in those days were - were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits.' … … 'And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.'
First of all: jesus christ... werewolves scream like ghosts, like people. Second: Best times of his life. I wanna bring this up in a post about Patronus', why his is a wolf: Being a werewolf itself, when free to wander, seems to be a positive experience.
pg 260 'They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,' said Lupin. 'A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. ... Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.'
He is lying here – or oversimplifying – because he told Hagrid he didn't 'eat anything last night', as in didn't eat Buckbeak. There is something more going on that made being an Animagi safe. Something that, when running around with other 'human intelligent' animals, increased his capacity for control and intelligent thought. He no longer self-harmed when he had a 'pack'.
'Soon we were roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check.' … … 'That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?''A thought that still haunts me,' said Lupin heavily. 'And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless - carried away with our own cleverness.'
A stag and/or a large dog is similar in strength to a well-fed teenage werewolf... but not enough to ensure safety. The thought of losing control, of those near misses, haunts him... though he is about to have some near misses damn soon. He is being reckless again right now.
pg 261 'He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job, when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am.'
Thankful to have a job – it's unheard of to knowingly hire a werewolf.
Chapter 19
pg 263 'I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,' said Snape, throwing the Cloak aside, careful to keep his wand pointing at directly at Lupin's chest. 'Very useful, Potter, I thank you...' 'I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along.'
Severus has just been to Remus' office. Remus didn't enter the Willow until it was already dark - and has spent a chapter and a half yapping. Severus felt confident entering Remus' office when the sun had set. Maybe he was just that desperate to reach him in the nick of time...? But Severus didn't bring the goblet with him to the Willow, even knowing the children were there. He has been antsy about Remus' Lycanthropy all year – but isn't forcing it down his throat...? He is far more concerned with Remus' actions as a human traitor then the potential of him being a wolf tonight. The invisibility cloak likely wouldn't work against a werewolf – but even if it did, sneaking around listening to Remus blabber on for minutes on end is hardly the actions of someone who thinks a transformation is potentially imminent.
'Two more for Azkaban tonight,' said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. 'I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf...' pg 264/265 'Come on, all of you,' he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew into his hands. 'I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –' … … 'Dont ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works,' hissed Snape.
A tame werewolf sounds like a joke to 'regular' people. They are considered, in some way, mentally unwell. Severus has bound Remus in magical cords – but I doubt that would be effective if he transformed. If they were then dealing with werewolves would be as simple as binding them. He is emotionally unstable, but being reasonable: immobilizing the threats and shepherding the children to safety. I doubt he, of anyone, would slip up so badly as to allow Remus to transform... which means he doesn't expect him to transform on the way to the castle.
pg 273 'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Lupin grimly.
Lupin is so calm about killing Peter for revenge, even though it'll almost certainly get both him and Sirius put in Azkaban – if not Kissed, like Severus suggested. This is essentially a suicidal move. His last wish is for the children to understand him, and his motives, are more than monstrous.
pg 275 'You should have realised,' said Lupin quietly. 'If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter.' … … 'Very well,' said Lupin. 'Stand aside, Harry.' Harry hesitated. 'I'm going to tie him up,' said Lupin. 'That's all, I swear.'
He changed his mind fast. Harry's opinion is more important to him. Honestly it's not too surprising, he is following other people... but it makes his readiness to have his life ended for revenge seem... passive. Casual. Dying for a 'good' reason? Cool. Sirius being hot-and-cold is fair, he's a prison escapee with no future, following his loyalty to James and now to Harry... Remus? Remus just had one of the best years of his life. But he never expects good times to last long, anyway. Harry and his friends know his secret now...
Chapter 20
pg 278 'A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight. ... Harry could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.
...So it is bonkers that his transformation is working like this, considering everything we know. Full Moonlight is triggering it and was blocked by... a cloud. Walls. Severus, Remus and Hermione all would have known it was a Full Moon - and that he forgot his potion. I can understand Remus and Hermione momentarily forgetting in all the hubbub the fact he was walking out into bare night... apart from the fact that transforming isn't an option for werewolves, nor will simply hiding indoors save them. We know that they will transform no matter what.
It doesn't make much sense – but I will go through it a little later. For now: Moonlight triggers it.
pg 279 There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's fur was on end again, he was backing away - As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backwards, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at eachother - … … Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm, and heard a scurrying through the grass. There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the Forest - 'Sirius, hes gone, Pettigrew transformed!' Harry yelled.
Werewolf Transformation: Go rigid; Limbs shake; Snarl (sharp intake/exhale of air from pain?); Head lengthens into long jaws; Body lengthens (this means werewolves are larger than humans rather wolf-sized); Shoulders hunch over; Hair (fur?) sprouts on face and hands (perhaps everywhere but his clothes are still covering him); Hands curl into paws. The transformation is working body and head first – then out to the extremities. One skinny man, turned into a large dog, is enough to battle a thin werewolf man – though the reason Remus runs isn't clear. Is it to get away from Sirius, because Sirius is hurting him? It seems a little unlikely he would be so distracted from all the humans he could bite... unless the amount of potion he has had helps keep his mind clear. Clear enough to chase after Peter, perhaps...? In any case, he didn't remain injured in the morning. - Werewolves, along with human-like screams, howl, snarl and growl.
Chapter 21
pg 295 She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the Forest. The sun was setting now. … … They moved around the edge of the Forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow. 'There's Ron!' said Harry suddenly.
More proof of timing – it was nighttime before Remus showed up.
pg 296 'Here comes Lupin!' said Harry, as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring towards the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.
I wonder if he was running partially because he saw the clouds were covering the moon – and he knew as long as he got to the shack in time he would be safe while inside...?
pg 298 And then, at last, after over an hour... 'Here we come!' Hermione whispered.
They were in the long tunnel from the Willow to the Shack for a long time. It was night before they even went in, and nobody felt at all concerned while they were coming out how much time had passed.
~~~ MY THOUGHTS:
So... after the sun had already gone down, but the moon was covered by clouds, Remus ran outside and to the Willow/Shack – in order to confront a murderer hiding there with the kids. He was understandably emotional, but selfishly put himself first: over the kids, Sirius and Peter, wasting time trying to regain trust and respect... despite knowing he had missed his potion. He showed no real concern of the upcoming/current Full Moon – and neither did Hermione.
Severus only thought to bring Remus his potion after sunset and didn't think to bring it to the shack in any sort of emergency situation. He treated Remus as a traitor, not as a wolf – and was willing to drag him back to the castle, through the night. Even he didn't show much concern for the upcoming/current Full Moon, despite through the year being meticulous in his care and glancing anxiously at him when the Full Moon approaches.
However, as soon as Remus walked outside – bound to Peter and an injured child – he transformed the moment a cloud moved and moonlight hit him directly.
Maybe it is understandable to have momentarily forgotten about the danger... but then again, he didn't feel it coming at all...? They are floating Severus behind them who JUST reminded him he didn't have his potion. He has been talking about his Lycanthropy for an hour.
How could he forget? How could they all forget? How could they be so calm on the Full Moon...?
My theory: It wasn't the Full Moon.
We know being a werewolf isn't quite a binary: - You can be 'contaminated' – only showing some symptoms. - Something anyone can tell about Fenrir Greyback it's that he is a bit more 'Wolf' than 'Were' - However, nobody could tell Remus was anything but chronically ill. Most importantly: - You get sicker the closer it is to the Full Moon, even during the day.
It's like the magic from the reflected light of the moon gets more saturated in the atmosphere as the moon waxes... until your body reaches a breaking point and, no matter where you are (like in your office) you transform. But perhaps that process can be sped up – by saturating yourself in direct near-full moonlight?
A premature transformation. It is the night before the Full Moon.
'Premature transformations under direct late waxing gibbous moonlight' Theory:
As it's not the forced transformation at the peak of the Full Moon it's not talked about as often. It's rare to encounter – but not unheard of or surprising. It is still a 'Full Moon' in a way, after all: The moon looks 'Full' for three or so days and is only truly 'full' for a moment.
If werewolves transformed the MOMENT it was truly Full, then there would be months where they transformed during the day. But if they DID transform during the day, then it still doesn't make sense that nobody is worrying about the Full Moon tonight: They would know when the true Full Moon is. They're Wizards.
This can ONLY mean that werewolves don't transform at the true Full Moon, probably only transform at night (when Direct sunlight doesn't drown out reflected Moonlight) and there is a little more going on than just "Full Moon touched me :^( ick". - Most werewolves hide away, already feeling unwell. They aren't going outside pre-Full Moon... so they don't transform. - Perhaps even those eager to transform would rather save their strength for the true Full Moon...? Perhaps it is a weaker transformation (couldn't even beat up a skinny ass dog) so even violent werewolves avoid it? - Maybe they still have a second transformation – Remus did want to leave the school terribly quickly the next day... so he didn't transform there a second night? It's said multiple times they transform ONCE a month... but maybe that's just because most avoid prematurely transforming? - People misunderstand key things about werewolves anyway, like the fact they are humans and not half-breeds. Remembering only the basics, 'Full Moon forced transformation', feels accurate. - Since Wizards are so Astronomy focused, things like the 'true Full Moon' vs 'nights where it's almost full' is already on their minds. The difference between “Late Waxing Gibbous” and “Full Moon” could be the difference between a potent potion or a watery failure. There is no way they're mistaking what moon cycle it is unless drunk. - Remus' Boggart is the Full Moon – because the Boggart thinks he will be scared of transforming – but there is more merit to that if Remus could turn prematurely under strong moonlight.
If the next night was the true Full Moon – then it makes sense that: - Severus was calm about it, not even thinking to bring the potion as an emergency. If Remus was a traitor he was going to Azkaban tonight anyway – who cares about his penultimate goblet...? - Remus wasn't too worried about transforming. He was safe while in the shack, ran while there was cloud cover... he was just distracted when leaving, head full of Peter, Sirius, guilt and worry. - Hermione didn't mention it. She knows when the Full Moon is – it's not tonight. - The night be cloudy. Some planning, maybe even something as simple as covering Remus' skin with a thick cloak, could be enough to prevent his transformation. Tie him up, throw a cloak on him, make sure the moon is covered and drag him to the castle... fair plan.
Nobody was surprised that it happened, and yet nobody thought about it beforehand.
Big moon dangerous – werewolf go brr.
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lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago
Text
I was searching but not for you
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader summary: Aemond is eager to catch the thief who keeps stealing his gemstones but the person in question seems to always be one step ahead of him. words: ~ 4000 author’s note: about two months ago, I got the idea to write short stories inspired by the songs I like. this idea may totally flop, but I already wrote a few one-shots so I might as well post them somewhere. you can skip the song but I think it helps with ✨ the vibes ✨ P.S. don’t read the translation from French right away song inspo: Leagues — Walking Backwards (Spotify / YouTube)
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>>> The first time it happens, it’s blindsiding — he gets a call in the middle of the night, and the words are rushed and the voice on the other end of the phone is panicking. Aemond sits up against the head of his bed, silky linen softy sliding down his chest, and the sleep is still clinging to his skin, and he can’t quite understand what’s going on. Surely, it sounds like a bad joke — someone broke into his office, someone found his safe. He’s the only one who knows the contents of the locked metal box, and he cherishes it very deeply. He doesn’t easily let go of the things he loves.
In about five minutes, his car roars through the empty streets, his heart is racing, his body fueled by the adrenaline that eats up the remnants of his sleepiness. Aemond all but runs — in the building, in the elevator, on the right floor. The security team looks so baffled, he almost wants to laugh. And then he sees it — his safe, accurately opened and seemingly not emptied. Because the uncut diamond in it didn’t take much space, and now it is, indeed, missing. There’s a note left, written in cursive so perfect, it looks as mocking as the words on it:
“A safe hidden behind a painting? Honestly, that’s just bad taste.”
His shock turns into anger in the blink of an eye.
>>> The fact that someone dared to steal from him is offensive enough, but the stolen gemstone also holds a special meaning — it’s the first one he’s ever bought with his own money, by himself, for himself. It’s not the biggest one he owns, not the rarest color or the most high-priced, but the auction it was sold at dragged for almost two hours, and the very last bidder was too persistent for his liking. Finally winning felt so good, it was addicting. Losing that very thing felt like a punch, and he hadn’t missed a single one before.
>>> He changes the locks and tightens security, but there are no leads — nothing on his cameras, and no one saw a thing. He begrudgingly tells Helaena about it when she finds a moment to check up on him in between hosting countless exhibitions in her gallery. That very gallery also stores one of his gems, so he wants to take precautions, just in case.
His sister brings him croissants and sips on matcha while listening to him, worry sawn onto her face. She reassures him she’ll be alert, she’s empathetic as ever. She then enthusiastically goes to tell him all about the new layout for the Van Gogh collection she’ll put on display next month. Her cheerful babbling gives him an hour-long reprieve from his inner torment.
On her way out, Helaena stops, her brows furrowing:
“Do you know who owned the diamond before you?”
“There were no details on the owner,” Aemond shrugs. “I only know his collection had to be auctioned for debts which definitely drove down the price.”
She gives him a heartfelt smile:
“I’ll ask around, then.”
>>> Someone steals the sapphire from her gallery precisely a week after their conversation. The gem of 150 carats is protected with armored glass and kept in a separate hall, but no alarms are triggered the night it disappears. Helaena only finds out in the morning and sends him a photo of an empty stand. When Aemond arrives at the gallery, police are already at the scene. They all wear the same confused expression.
“There’s no footage on the cameras,” his sister explains, perplexed. Then squints at him: “But they left a note.”
Aemond swallows down an annoyed grunt and spends ten minutes answering a pointless sequence of questions. Only then he gets to see the thing he’s most curious about. The piece of paper says:
“Your taste is better when it comes to gems. The exhibition looks great, by the way!”
He passes it on his way back — it’s a collection of some Swedish artist he’s never heard of. The painting closest to him is called “The Lady with the Veil”, and the woman on the canvas looks at him with a sly smile.
>>> The third time can take the prize for being the most ridiculous one. He made the purchase only two days ago — a pink diamond of exceptional purity, and the transfer is arranged in the strictest secrecy. He gives instructions, he hires two guards for the ride; he’s counting minutes. Aemond has a lurking suspicion that something is off when the delivery is 15 minutes late. But then the courier finally walks in, hands him the box locked with a digital code, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation. The second he opens it, his mouth falls slack.
“Are you kidding me?!” he roars — the box is empty, with only a pink ribbon left inside.
The courier shrivels at the sound and apologizes profusely. And then admits that they made a stop on their way. He says they went down the wrong route — because of some glitch in his GPS — and ended up at the wrong house. It took the man a couple of minutes to realize his mistake and come back to the truck. He has no explanation for why he thought that taking both guards with him was in any way a good idea, but he swears that the driver never left the vehicle.
To add to Aemond’s anguish, the two policemen sent to his place seem to be positively stupid. Not only do they not understand the concept of digital locks, but they also don’t grasp the gravity of the situation. One of them scribbles something in his notebook, then scratches his head with a pen, then asks:
“Are you sure it’s not just a case of miscommunication?”
Aemond is sure that he’s never been this close to strangling a law enforcement officer. He gives the cops a tight-lipped smile and sends them away, and he is still left with no information to get things off the ground. He’s also a little bitter that there was no note this time.
He’s staring at the empty box with a brooding frown when he feels his phone vibrating. It’s a text from his sister:
“There are rumors that the man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer. His identity was sealed by court order :( But maybe this will be of use? xx”
Aemond rereads the message, then ponders for a minute. That may explain all the technical malfunctions that he suspects were not accidental. It also gives him an idea.
>>> He orders his security team to look through all the street cameras along the route. Buff guys crash at his office, dragging in every monitor they can find, and strain their eyes to catch anything. Aegon volunteers to help although he mostly spends his time roaming around the room with a bottle of beer, leaving his fingerprints on every glassy surface.
Just as Aemond has hoped, they find the person of interest at the first stop the courier made. Except the video gives them no clue who they are looking at. The men watch as someone — wearing all black, their face covered — quietly sneaks to the truck, opens it and gets in, squirreling through the gap between the back doors. They do that with such ease, Aemond won’t be surprised to see them using a magic wand. The driver spends that time singing along to some rap song blasting in the car.
Aegon notices the strained silence and gets closer, then focuses on the footage. And then he starts cracking with laughter.
“Hey, it’s a woman!” he exclaims. “I know one when I see one!”
All the security guys lean toward the cameras and watch the recording again, following her movements and tilting their heads to the left in unison like some hypnotized owls.
“Well, that does look... like a female body,” one of them mumbles, others humming in agreement, eyes still glued to the screens.
Aemond feels the secondhand embarrassment creeping in and quietly growls, facepalming. He catches Aegon’s gaze, and his brother chuckles, his eyes crinkled.
“Man, you must’ve really fucked up for her to go after you like that,” Aegon whispers with a grin. “Is it bad that I’m kinda rooting for her now?”
Aemond can’t think of a single person who would want to cross him, let alone a woman. He’s not one to fool around or break hearts, and his own stays closed, and no one ever made it flutter. Incomprehension stirs up his thoughts the way a storm does the sea.
“So what’s your plan?” Aegon’s voice brings him back to reality.
“I’ll tell you when I have one,” Aemond sighs. “What I definitely don’t plan on doing is buy another diamond,” he swirls the phone in his hand like he always does when he’s agitated.
Aegon finishes his beer, then looks at the screens again.
“But you still have enough gemstones,” he drawls.
“Enough for what?” Aemond raises a brow at him.
“To get her interest,” his brother smirks. “Don’t you think?”
Aemond lets Aegon’s words sink in until he grasps the meaning behind them, and the suggestion leaves a hint of a smile on his lips. He instantly dials his sister:
“Hel, can you do me a favor? I want to hold an exhibition. It’s gonna be the most expensive one you’ve ever had.”
“Show-off,” Aegon mutters, rolling his eyes.
>>> The gallery is located at the end of the central street, overlooking a small canal with charming tour boats, with blossoming cherry trees planted along the way. Aemond plans everything down to the last detail — every camera’s placement, every guard’s position, he learns all the ins and outs of the building. The day before the event, his nerves are on edge, his mind restless, and he makes an irrational decision to stop by the gallery to take a quick look around. He warps between halls and examines the stands — all while answering countless calls he’s been bombarded with since someone leaked the story of his misfortunes to the press.
He’s looking at the layout of the upper floor, flipping through the pages, his smartphone pressed up against his ear when he rounds the corner — and suddenly crashes into someone. The phone slips out, papers scatter around, and he instinctively puts out a hand, and it rests upon another body, their skin warm against his fingers. He hears a surprised voice:
“Oh, excusez-moi!” and then it gets softer. “Je ne m’attendais pas à ce que tu sois là *.”
When Aemond glances down, he is left speechless.
A woman is looking at him, her parted lips curled up in a light smile, her features gentle, face expression amused. There’s a hint of mischief in her eyes, an alluring gleam of mystery he is instantly drawn to solve. She’s only wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and yet he thinks he’s never seen a sight so pretty. His hand stays on her waist, his thumb sneaked under the white material. He wants to keep it there.
She shamelessly studies his face until her gaze grazes his lips — curiously, intrigued — then she looks up.
“I am horribly clumsy, my apologies,” she finally says, her voice low and dulcet, and hands Aemond his phone and a couple of papers. He completely missed the moment when she somehow managed to catch all that.
“Makes two of us,” he utters, reluctantly removing his palm from the bend of her waistline. The touch of her hand compensates for it — their fingers brush, but it’s fleeting and it leaves him wanting more.
She helps him pick the rest of his papers off the floor, not giving him a chance to protest. She’s nimble and smiley, he is tacit and stunned.
“The preparations for the exhibit seem quite extensive,” she remarks, looking around, standing carelessly close to him but not close enough. “You put in a lot of work,” she casts a glance at him, and Aemond’s cheeks heat up.
“I had a lot of help,” he modestly brushes off the compliment, but his eye never leaves her face, and he doesn’t want to leave, either. There is no explanation for this feeling, for this need, for how flustered and tongue-tied he is.
“I should let you get back to it, then,” she takes a step back, moving out of his reach, and he can’t find a reason to make her stay for a bit longer.
“Do you plan on coming?” Aemond asks, and in any other case, he would’ve found the desperation in his voice to be embarrassing. Right now, he couldn’t care less.
She turns to look at him and holds his gaze for a good few seconds. She isn’t smiling but there’s laughter in her eyes when she says:
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” and then walks out.
His phone buzzes again, a string of unread notifications popping up on the screen. But it’s the girl with a velvety voice that hooks his attention like nothing else. He didn’t think to question what she was doing in the gallery.
>>> The exhibition is a bit too crowded, and Aemond scurries between the halls and watches the gemstones like a hawk, looking out for anyone suspicious. He tries to persuade himself it’s the only reason he peers into the crowd; it’s not. He also can’t help but wait for a certain person, for a very specific face to show up.
But minutes pass by and soon turn into an hour and then into two, and he almost gives up.
He stares blankly at one of the gems — Colombian emerald, a hundred carats of the purest green, — he was ecstatic to get his hands on it, and yet right now it looks dull, and it brings him no joy. He sees a gleam of the same color out of the corner of his eye and disregards it at first, but then he casts his gaze to the side, and his breathing hitches.
She did come, and when he sees her, his heart not only skips a bit but does a full-on salto.
Her dress is brighter than any emerald — the material flows, following every curve of her body, with a coyly slit up to the middle of her thigh. The waves of her hairdo fall to one side, and his eye trails her collarbones, the line of her neck, and moves up to her lips that are blooming red, radiant like rubies. She is so beautiful, all the gemstones pale in comparison, and he can’t tear his gaze away.
She goes straight to Aemond as if there are no other people in the gallery — she maneuvers between them but only looks at him, a familiar smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“It’s safe to say your efforts paid off,” she gestures at the crowd when she’s at arm’s reach. “I think congratulations are in order,” the words flow from her lips like honey.
He blinks a few times, then comes to his senses and finds his voice.
“Thank you,” he musters in response. “I suspect the gems are to blame,” he remarks and tries to put on his usual cold self-restraint. She isn’t having any of it.
“With so many of them, I can’t decide what to look at first,” she comes closer, boldly and unabashed, and he’s enveloped in her perfume, in the warmth of her gaze. He takes the hint.
“I can give you a tour,” he offers, and her smile grows wider. Then her eyes glide over the emerald, and she taps on the protective glass:
“This one seems rather pricey.”
“It was,” Aemond agrees, clasping hands behind his back, very pleased with himself. “Comes from the Muzo mines, a square octagon-cut 100.2-carat emerald.”
“The shape does help to convey the color depth of the stone,” she hums with satisfaction, but her eyes are on Aemond again. Seeing his questioning look, she adds: “The cut of a gem is what determines its value, isn’t it?”
He only manages to nod because her thigh brushes his, and he doesn’t even pretend to pay attention to the gemstone. Neither does she, taking him by the arm:
“So, what’s next on our tour?”
>>> He guides her from one display to the other, and they move further away from the crowd, into smaller halls, less noisy and dimly lit, the gemstones being the only bright spot in each room. She asks questions, and their conversation flows, but he quickly notes that she knows more than she’s letting on.
“You seem well-versed on the topic yourself,” Aemond assumes as they take a stop in front of yet another stand. The yellow diamond on it catches the light and sparkles like a little sun.
“My father held a great appreciation for gemstones of all sorts,” she reveals, with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “I guess I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”
“Are you a collector too?”
She softly laughs, and her gaze turns playful:
“I value the rare beauty of them but... I think I find the buying process more exciting. It’s all about the chase,” she murmurs, leaning into him just a bit.
She’s mesmerizing, she’s a charade, and he’s captivated beyond understanding. But before he can say anything else, a loud noise shatters the silence between them — the fire alarm goes off. А monotone voice on the speaker orders everyone to leave the building.
“That’s odd,” Aemond mumbles, more to himself. He hears people’s voices in the distance and gently takes her by the hand. “We should go too.”
“Maybe it’s a false alarm?” she doesn’t move. “I am sure the security will turn it off in a minute. With how well this place is guarded, you have nothing to worry about, right?”
It dawns on Aemond that he didn’t think once about the safety of the gemstones in the last hour, and it’s just as concerning as the unexpected evacuation. To add to his worry, the overhead lighting goes off.
“We should wait for the emergency generator to kick in,” she suggests, not bothered in the slightest. He should find it weird, but he can only think of how close she is, how the faint light from the display contours her face.
“Um, it will take — ”
“About three minutes,” she finishes up for him. “We just need to find a way to pass the time.”
“I think I’ve told you all there is to know about the collection,” Aemond lightly chuckles. “Unless you got any other ideas?”
“Well, I don’t usually do that but...,” she says quietly, looking up at him as her hand lies on his shoulder, then slowly moves to his neck.
“Do what?” he is caught off guard, he can’t concentrate on anything other than the movement of her palm. “Do you want to —”
“You talk too much,” she interrupts him with a smile, her finger tugging at the collar of his shirt, and then her lips cover his, and the words die down on his tongue, and all the sounds disappear.
Her lips are rubies but they feel like silk, intoxicating like wine, and before he can think it over, he kisses her back, and he can’t think of anything else, and his hands find her waist so easily he wishes to never keep them away. She allows him to lead this time, to set the pace, his fingers tugging her closer, his mouth fervid — and he’s insatiable, and he wants to leave her as breathless as he is. He succeeds in that.
When they part, the light is already on.
“I didn’t mean to take your attention away from your precious stones,” she breathes out.
“I think I got a hold of another one,” Aemond trails for her lips, but she laughs against his mouth.
“I meant actual gems.”
“I can recognize a real gem from a fake one,” he retorts and brushes away a strand of her hair that fell loose.
“Can you?” she throws him a cunning look and bites her lower lip. “Oh, Aemond,” she then gets quiet, almost hesitant, her gaze hinting at something unsaid, something important. “You should’ve let me make the last bid,” she whispers all of a sudden.
He stares at her in confusion, and there’s a ringing concern in the back of his head, a nascent hunch. Simultaneously, another realization kicks in:
“You never told me your name,” Aemond finally grasps.
“And you never told me yours, you just assumed I knew it,” she’s not offended, she is very much enjoying it. “I did,” she traces the contour of his jaw with her index finger.
He’s about to say something else when they hear hurried footsteps approaching.
“Mr. Targaryen, we were hoping you would — Oh,” the guard falls silent upon seeing them. The man reads the room and gets clearly abashed but Aemond doesn’t.
“I would what?” he asks, unfazed, not removing his hand from her waist.
“I just wanted to inform you it was a false alarm, but we are going through the cameras to look for any suspicious activity,” the guard explains, then holds a pause. “Maybe you would want to join us?”
Aemond looks at her, his face expression apologetic, but she doesn’t make an issue out of it.
“You should go,” she encourages. “Make sure that everything is fine.”
He doesn’t want to but he has to, they both know that. What he doesn’t know is why he feels the need to make promises to the woman he’s only met twice.
“It will only be a couple of minutes,” his hand glides down and captures hers.
“Take your time,” her thumb careless his palm, and then she lets him go. He feels her gaze on him on the way out.
>>> Aemond walks through the empty halls and corridors, catching a glimpse of Helaena and Aegon standing outside with all the guests, his brother’s hand draped over her shoulder, both laughing at something. He’s glad that everyone is safe — he is also glad that Aegon won’t get a chance to tease him. Aemond is pretty sure there’s a red hue left on his lips but he only thinks of it when he walks into the security room, and it’s too late to wipe it off.
“Anything caught your attention?” he nonchalantly asks the guards that are watching the security footage.
“Nothing so far,” one of them informs. “The evacuation went without complications, took us about seven minutes — started with the green hall, all according to the plan,” he proudly states. Aemond absentmindedly nods.
“And what was it with the light?”
“Oh, that,” the man frowns. “Something set off the emergency reboot of the system. All our guys were outside, so we sent one of the security men who stayed back at the site to check the generator.”
That string of words bothers Aemond.
“Stayed at the site — you mean, in one of the halls?” he guesses. “Which one was it?”
“The green one, it’s closest to the basement,” the guard tells him without a second thought.
Aemond thinks of the floor plan, then counts the minutes in his head. Then he realizes:
“So the emerald remained unguarded the longest.”
>>> He’s the first one to run out of the room — and the first one to reach the green hall, his heart racing. But, despite his worst fears, the gem is still there. Untouched, big, green, dull.
... Dull.
Aemond watches it silently, and the gears in his head start turning faster. He comes up to the stand, eye fixed on the emerald.
“Take it out,” he asks, his tone commanding. “Now.”
A member of the staff gets the gem from under the glass cover, and Aemond takes the emerald in his hand, then turns his phone’s flashlight on. Under direct light, the jewel radiates a rainbow of colors, bright and iridescent. Just like plain glass. To prove his theory further, he drags the bezel of his platinum watch over the stone’s surface — and it leaves a very evident scratch.
Someone gasps behind his back, and there’s no need to say it out loud. Still, he does:
“It’s fake,” Aemond concludes.
The invited jewelry expert holds a hand to his heart.
“But it’s not possible! Not possible,” he muses. “The cameras were on for the duration of the day, we’ve got the footage right here!”
They were on today, but not the day before, Aemond notes. He drags out all the pieces of information he can think of — coincidences, memories, words:
“The man you’ve got your diamond from was some tech developer,”
“My father held a great appreciation for the gemstones,”
“The preparations seem extensive,”
“It’s all about the chase,”
“You should’ve let me make the last bid,”
— and the puzzle comes together.
“God damn it,” he says under his breath, closing his eye.
And then, while everyone looks clueless, Aemond lets out a laugh. There is no anger in it — if anything, he feels relieved. For him, the chase has gotten quite tiresome. But oh so worth it, he thinks.
“You can put it back and invite everyone in,” Aemond gives the emerald to the expert who seems doubtful.
“But what of its authenticity?”
“Well, just don’t let anyone take it out and put it under a flashlight,” Aemond sneers. Then he turns to the guards: “Can you show me the yellow hall?”
When he sees the place empty, he rushes out without another word.
>>> The sunset spreads over the sky, flooding it with orange and crimson, and Aemond searches for her in the crowd and in the street but to avail at first. His eye roves over the mass of faces, bodies, vehicles passing by — and then falls on the other side of the canal. He recognizes her in a heartbeat.
She changed back into jeans and a t-shirt, with a leather jacket thrown over, a black motorbike parked next to her. The wind ruffles waves of her hair and the hem of her shirt, and Aemond wishes he could sneak his hands under it again. He doesn’t know if she sees him in the side mirror or if she feels his gaze — he hopes it’s the latter — but she turns to him, and their eyes meet.
She flashes him a smile that lits up her whole face and then turns into laughter. Aemond can’t hear her but he remembers the sound of it, and the corners of his mouth tilt up. It feels like there’s no distance separating them, no people, and no channel of water strewn with fallen cherry blossoms. She taps at the pocket of her jacket and points at him — he looks down at his suit and in a second he catches on to what she means. Aemond puts a hand in his pocket and finds a piece of paper inside. It’s small and gently folded, it’s the same cursive he’ll recognize anywhere:
“Didn’t get a chance to tell you last time — you really should invest in a better security system. Makes me wonder how good is the one you have at home. Maybe I should check it out.
Until next time, Y/N.”
When he looks up, she’s already left, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.
He doesn’t know if it’s a challenge or a date.
But he can’t wait to see her again. * “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to be here.”
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✧ the original dress in all its glory ✧ “The Lady with the Veil” 💕 another fic where the girl makes the first step 🔞 another fic with a green dress
💚 my masterlist
English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
189 notes · View notes
tia-amorosa · 29 days ago
Text
Sunset Died - Wolff/Sekemoto
Own decisions
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Later that evening. After Morgana had brought dinner to the table, Sam sat silently in front of his bowl for a moment. “Do I really have to go to school tomorrow?"/ ”Oh… No, of course you don't if you don't feel ready for it yet. But…maybe it would be nice for you to make a new friend and learn something”. Sam slowly pulled his chair a little closer. “I'll decide in the morning.”
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A few minutes after the meal. “I'd like to use your laptop, if you don't mind. Don't worry, I won't access your medical stuff, I just want to check on old contacts"/ ‘was Cy able to answer your questions?’/ ‘mhm, the line is back up 24/7, he's checked everything again for security. we just haven't been contacted about it yet’/ ”Oh, that's wonderful. Yes, all right”.
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That evening, Sam wanted a bedtime story. Morgana and her husband actually thought that he would want to sleep without it for the time being. But he seems to be coping with his grief in his own way. He doesn't cry, at least apparently not in the presence of the adults. His attention span didn't last very long, though, and he quickly fell asleep. “Hn, no wonder, that was a really stupid story. Good night…”.
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As Morgana was about to go to bed, she noticed that there was a new painting on the easel. And it was completely finished. In a way, it made her a little proud, because Sam had apparently only learned to paint from watching and was therefore able to gather enough inspiration. But on the other hand, it made her a little sad. His family would never admire his later works.
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Even though it was already quite late and Thornton's eyes were almost closing, he at least wanted to make a first attempt and see what had happened in his e-mail inbox since the disaster. “Holy shit, over 4000 emails. I can delete some of them, it's just advertising, information… what did I click on back then? Well, o.k., i have some catching up to do“.
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Later that night. “What have you been doing all this time?"/ ‘Deleting unnecessary emails and giving an old colleague a sign of life from me, like my cousin Dwayne…’/ ‘You… You have a cousin?’/ ”Hard to believe, but yes. I haven't seen him for ages, I don't know how he got my e-mail address. Anyway, he wanted to know if everything was OK and if we wanted to see each other again sometime…phh“.
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“How long ago was the email?"/ ”A few days before everything here was dead. I had so much to do at the time and hadn't checked my emails at all… The last time I saw him was when I was 6 or 7, we never had much to do with each other…"/ ‘And yet you replied to him…’/ ”Well, at least to say hello. He sent me a family photo. His children look like little feral wolves"/ ‘hnhn, maybe they are wolves’/ ‘what nonsense… good night’.
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It's the next morning. Morgana was about to check on Sam and was surprised to see that he was already up and standing in front of the closet. “hi, I thought you were still asleep"/ ‘No, I just wanted to get my things out for school…’/ ‘For… You want to go to school?’. He just nodded without looking at her.
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“Yes, then… Then get dressed, I'll quickly make something for you to eat” / ‘You don't have to, I know where everything is…’. Without another word, he took his things out of the first drawer and disappeared outside into the bathroom.
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After Sam had disappeared from the room with his clothes, Morgana looked out of the window for a moment. Then an important thought caught up with her again. She remembered Leighton's words. “The family chronicle. It's not really my style to rummage around in other people's things, but… I guess it's important.”.
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Morgana literally rummaged through the things that belonged to Yumi. She didn't have very many clothes left, as most of them had been lost in the destruction of her house. But the few things she did find were all carefully folded, so it wasn't long before she came across something in the bottom left-hand drawer.
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She felt something solid under one of the items of clothing and pulled it out of the drawer. Then it fell out of her hand briefly. “This must be it. I only have one problem… I can't speak Japanese, but I'm sure the Internet will help me.“.
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A little later, Morgana went downstairs to the living room with the book. Sam was still eating breakfast. He saw her sit down at the desk and recognized what she was holding. “What do you want to do with it?"/ ‘Oh, I… I wanted to translate a few things for you, if I can manage it’/ ‘You don't have to translate it for me’.
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Morgana looked at him a little questioningly. “Don't I have to?”. He shook his head. “When we sometimes couldn't sleep at night, Grandma would read it to me since I was very little. She showed me all the signs and told me what they meant"/ ‘really all of them?’/ ‘mhm…’/ ‘And you've memorized them all?’. He nodded again. “So… do you know what it all says?"/ ‘not everything yet’.
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“Hm, I see. “/ “Dad told me to read it”. Morgana almost felt guilty. She looked at the book for a moment and then decided for herself not to proceed any further. “Of course, I didn't want to violate your privacy either. I just thought…"/ ”When I'm ready, I'll read it. And I can read it out loud to you then. But not today… And not tomorrow either.” Morgana switched her laptop off again. “All right. You're the boss, hn”.
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Sam brought his keys into the kitchen. ("Unbelievable, I didn't know she taught him Japanese. Of course, it's his mother tongue and it wasn't out of the question that she taught him more. It would probably take me weeks or months to translate everything. Hm…I'm excited”.
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@greenplumbboblover ⭐😊
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audrey-carr1 · 4 months ago
Note
Do we have any Hetty X reader smut coming our way soon? I read Chapter 3 of Baroness Makes House Calls and now I need more 😂
This took me way longer than I thought! I hope this was worth the wait! Here is 4000 words more or less of pure smutty smut.
If you want more, Prize will more than likely have some in future chapters.
warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI, AU-modern era setting, Hetty x fem!reader,
Read on Ao3 or continue below
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"What do you mean my suite has already been checked into? Last time I checked I’m the only Mrs. Woodstone," you say.
"I apologize for the delay Mrs. Woodstone, I promise we will have this situated promptly," The clerk says.
I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. I'm already tense and tired from extensive travel. While I know it wasn't this person's fault as to why the mishap has happened, I can't help but feel the irritation start to rise. 
"Is there no other suite available? I do not care if it is a standard one at this rate, " I suggest wanting to get off of my feet as soon as possible. I'd sleep on a pull-out couch if that meant I could close my eyes for a moment.
"We are booked solid, Mrs. Woodstone," The clerk says apologetically.
"This is the last time I leave booking a suite with my assistant," I mutter under my breath. I step away from the desk and pull out my phone to see if there are other hotels nearby. 
"You must have terrible staffing if they can't manage to properly book you a suite," I hear a familiar voice from behind me say. 
I quickly whip around to be met by my wife. I almost jump into her arms if it weren't for the two of us being in public. The irritation I felt instantly melts from my body as I see her smile. 
"Hetty! What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Cleaning up what would have been a disaster at one of the franchise offices. I wasn't aware our schedules overlapped otherwise I would have had a key sent down for you," She says pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
It quickly dawns on me, "You checked into my presidential suite!”
"I believe it is mine, but we will see whose card gets charged, and that'll settle this," She says snaking her arm around my waist. She has that mischievous gleam in her eyes that I adore. 
Turning around I go back to the desk and grab the clerk's attention. "Excuse me, I believe the mistake has come from us both being Mrs.Woodstone. I apologize for the trouble,” I explain.
The hotel clerk seems to thank their lucky stars and simply gives me an extra key to the room. The clerk has a bellhop to assist me with my luggage while Hetty and I make our way to the elevator hand in hand. 
“Weren’t you going somewhere if you were in the lobby? I can get to the room myself if you were going to do something,” I say finishing up an email on my phone. 
“And miss precious time with my wife? Absolutely not.” Hetty says. 
I  make a beeline towards the bedroom once we arrive at our suite. I immediately shrug off my trench coat and kick off my heels. I sigh in relief as I balance on one foot and try to rub relief into the other sole of my foot. 
"Long day?" Hetty asks already lying on the bed. 
"Hetty, you have no idea," I groan while wiggling my toes. 
Hetty moves into an upright position, and motions for me to sit on the bed. When I do, she doesn't hesitate to pull my feet into her lap. Her hands instantly get to work massaging the soreness from my feet. I take a moment to take in her appearance. Her hair pulled up in a bun with a few curly pieces framing her face. She wears a dark teal pant suit, and the blazer opens revealing her white button down which she has already undone the top buttons on. “How long are you in town for?” I ask. 
“I check out in the morning, this was a quick turn for me. What about my love?” Hetty responds
“Also a quick turn for me. There is no rest for the wicked,” I say. We both smile at my words. 
 She switches to the other foot and works her fingers into a particular sore spot. I bite my lip to keep myself from making too much noise. 
"Hetty, your fingers know exactly how to make me feel good," I sigh
"That's not the first time you've said that," Hetty says with a smirk.
I blush at the double entendre of my words. Hetty's hands travel from my feet to my ankles.
"Have I ever told you that you have very comely ankles," Hetty says.
"Are you quoting Bodices and Barons in bed?" I ask.
"Maybe," Hetty says her hand continuing upwards. "How about you rid yourself of this dress and I will show you how else my fingers can make you feel good." 
Her fingers dance along the hem of my dress. I tuck my legs to the side of me and lean in to peck a quick kiss to Hetty's lips, "As enticing as that sounds, I am hungry."
"I'm hungry too you know. Practically famished," Hetty purrs. Her voice dropped into her sexy low register. She has that suggestive look in her eyes that on every other occasion would have me jumping out of my clothes and into bed. 
 I feel my body start to react. She begins to lean forward causing me to fall back onto the pillows behind me. She leans over me like a predator over prey before claiming my lips in a searing kiss. 
The kiss doesn’t last long as I pull away before I fall even more under her spell. 
"I am hungry for food," I say catching on to what hunger she was referring to. I slip from underneath her and stand up while I still have the ability to. 
I try not to laugh as Hetty rolls her eyes and huffs in annoyance. "My dear, that is why we have room service. We have other people to do the work for us. Besides I am not letting you walk in those heels after all that work my magic fingers did to fix those little feet of yours," Hetty says 
"Fine, you have my permission to order anything for me. I am going to shower. I need to wash this day off of me," I say turning to leave but Hetty pulls me back in.
“Why are you teasing me like this? First, it was the noises you were making during your massage, and now you want me to wait out here while you shower. We haven’t showered together in months,” Hetty’s head falls into my chest, and I place a manicured hand on top of her head. Her arms wrap around me in an attempt to keep me in place. 
“Are you pouting?” I ask trying to get a peek at her face. 
“I do not pout,” Hetty’s chin now resting on my breast, “But at the moment I am whining. We have not seen each other in over three months. That was in September!”
“We saw each other for Thanksgiving,” I remind her. 
“Do not patronize me, you know exactly what I mean when I say we have not seen each other. We had guests, and no opportunity for any of the ‘seeing’ I would have liked to do. Unless it was you who wanted to be put on the table instead of the turkey,” Hetty says nipping at the skin of my breast.
I gasp as her tongue licks the line of my cleavage, “I apologize for teasing you, but the sooner I shower the sooner we both get what we want.”
“Fine, but do not take forever!” Hetty says releasing me. 
“ I would do no such thing,” I say. 
—----------
As I finish toweling off in the bathroom, I hear the door open and a cart being wheeled into the room. I hear Hetty thank whoever is at the door. Once I know the other person has left, I wrap the towel around myself.  I emerge from the bathroom and smirk when I see Hetty’s jaw tighten in frustration.
 Oh she is more wound up than I thought. 
“Food here?” I ask already knowing the answer. 
Hetty nods not taking her eyes off of my towel, and gestures towards the cart of food. 
“I can’t even wait to get dressed, I want it right now,” I say opening up one of the food trays. I smirk at my choice of words as I watch Hetty close her eyes and take a calming breath.
Hetty clears her throat, “That one is mine, I actually got you this.” She opens the other food tray to reveal your favorite meal. 
“Oh darling you know me so well,” I place a quick kiss on her lips and take my tray into the small dining area of the room. I hear Hetty inhale and then exhale before I hear her footsteps coming towards the room I’m in. 
“I know what you’re up to. I can see it in your eyes,” Hetty says. 
“See what?” I feign innocence before taking a bite of my food. I forgot that I barely had a good meal while traveling today. The flavor of the food caused a moan to escape my lips. This time I did not do that on purpose, but it still has the desired effect.
“If you do not stop that, I will end up bending you over the table and taking you right here,” Hetty says gripping the end of her fork tightly. 
“Promise?” I ask with a head tilt.
 I let my fork linger on my lips before smirking and returning to my meal. Hetty’s eye narrowed, and if looks could kill I would not be laughing at the moment. As much trouble it may cause me, I enjoy getting Hetty worked up like this. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she likes it too. She goes to say something, but she decides not to. Opting to sip her red wine instead. 
We finish our meals, Hetty only eating less than half of hers, before I open our dessert trays revealing our creme brulees. 
“I would like to enjoy dessert before you have your way with me, I believe you are capable of waiting a little longer aren’t you?” I ask. I dip my spoon into my dish breaking the sugar crust and taking a scoop of the custard. I bring the spoon to my mouth and look Hetty in the eyes as I make a show of eating the contents on the spoon. I close my eyes and moan my delight at the taste of my dessert. 
My eyes open when I hear the scrape of the chair against the floor. A blur of what I assume is Hetty makes her way over to me. She takes the spoon from my hand and grabs my wrist. The spoon clatters against the table falling to the floor. She says nothing as she leads me to the bedroom stopping once we stand at the foot of the bed. 
She rips the towel from my body throwing it haphazardly across the room. The unexpected chill of the room caused me to shiver.  One of her hands immediately dives between my legs, the pad of one finger circling my clit. 
“Oh,” I moan. 
“If I were not driven to insanity, I would take my time with you. I’d tease you just as you’ve teased me, maybe even more until I you soaked and weak-kneed,” Hetty says against me. Her breath is hot against me before she gently scrapes her teeth on the side of my throat. 
“You don’t have to tease me, I already am,” I groan as she continues to rub her finger against me. 
Hetty lays a bite against my neck and quickly soothes sharp gestures with a slow lap of her tongue. I shiver again but this time in anticipation and tip my back silently asking for more. 
“Look at you begging, and you were just the tantalizing tease only moments ago,” Hetty says, “Now what if I decided to stop? To leave you aching for my touch.”
Her finger adds a little more pressure but still circles my clit slowly. 
“What if I left you on edge until the next time we are together? You know how our schedules are, it is luck we have this moment, and I will be taking full advantage of it,”
The pressure Hetty had on my clit lightens, and my hips buck searching for more.
“You got me so worked up I could not finish my own desert, but that’s fine. I had something else sweet in mind anyway,”  Hetty says into my ear. 
Her finger dips lower between my legs swirling the wetness she finds at my entrance. My eyes flutter close at the sensation. I bring a hand up to her still-clothed shoulder to steady myself. She removes her hand, and I whimper at the loss. 
My eyes open just in time for me to see her bring her finger to her mouth. She wastes no time enjoying her little treat, sucking on her finger in the most sinful of ways. She moans to herself, and her eyes close for a moment before opening again to eye her prey. She grabs my face pulling me into a kiss. I grasp at her pulling her as far into me as I can. Her clothes scratched against my bare body. I taste remnants of myself and the wine she had for dinner on her tongue. Hetty breaks the kiss but not before nipping at my lower lip. 
“Bed. Now.” Hetty points to the bed. 
Without waiting, I do as told stumbling gracefully on the bed, not breaking eye contact. Hetty’s eyes are dark with arousal. Her chest heaving. She begins to undress herself. Slowly she unbuttons her top revealing a lacy, dark teal bra underneath. My mouth goes dry at the sight I wish she was closer so I can feel the weight of her breasts in my hand. To bury my face in the softness of her cleavage. 
Hetty finishes taking off her blouse and lets it drift down the floor. This whole time her eyes have not left mine, the intense eye contact makes me want to press my thighs together in search of some relief. 
“Spread your legs,” Hetty says.
With no hesitation, I spread my legs, and Hetty smiles.
“To this day I do not which stars to thank for gifting me the utmost, beautiful wife,” Hetty says crawling on the bed.
Hetty’s hands take one of my legs in her hands. She is slow in her movements. Kissing her way up starting from my ankle all the way up to my inner hip. Deliberate and calculated with each kiss, and then repeats the action on the other leg. 
“You smell delightful. I just know you’ll taste even better,” Hetty says.
I try to control my breathing to not give away how much I want and need her. She senses this, and I can her hear mocking me in her head. Oh love, you won the battle but I’m winning the war.
Hetty’s mouth descends on me without warning. 
“Oh fuck!” I gasp.
Her tongue is everywhere at once not allowing me to settle in the feeling of her in one place. Her hands move under and over my legs to better her grip as she drinks greedily from me. 
My fingers thread themselves between her curls, and my nails lightly scrape her scalp, gasping when I feel her responding moan against my sensitive flesh. I gently rock my hips against her mouth but am thwarted when one of her hands comes back around to keep my hips in place. 
“Do not rush me. You will get what you are given,” Hetty says before going back to the task at hand.
Hetty moves to gently suck on my clit before her tongue moves down to my entrance. The stiff muscle teasing me before entering. My eyes roll back. I feel like I might burst, it’s been too long since I’ve had this kind of pleasure. Even my own hand could not bring me to heights that Hetty is able to. 
She removes her left hand from my hips and I feel two of her fingers circling my entrance. She enters me with ease, and my back bows at the pleasure. Her fingers offer a delightful stretch as she slowly pumps her fingers. 
“So wet…so warm… so mine,” Hetty murmurs, punctuating each phrase with a kiss to my sensitive core.
“Yes, all yours,” I slur. My head tossing against the pillows. 
My body feels taut and ready to burst as pleasure ignites every nerve in my body. My mind becomes useless for intelligent thoughts. The only word echoing through my mind. Hetty. Hetty. Hetty. Over and over again. Her fingers curling inside me, and I feel my walls squeeze around her.
I come with her name on my lips. I relax back onto the mattress, biting my lip and breathing harshly through my nostrils. 
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you’re coming? It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and I want to keep that image lock in my memory, so I’m going to keep doing this until you can’t take anymore. Okay?” Hetty asks. 
I nod. 
“Ah Ah,” Hetty rebukes. Her fingers stop their stroking pulling out until just the very tips of her fingers remain, “Use your words,”
“Yes,” I rush out. 
Hetty smiles that devilish smile. The one where she knows that she got what she wanted, “Good girl.” 
Hetty’s fingers push back into me going a little deeper than before. Her thumb circles my clit in a maddening pattern. 
I manage to fight through the orgasm-induced haze to beg, “Kiss me.” 
She obliges immediately. I nibble at her bottom lip and she parts her lips enough for me to sneak. Our tongues collide, swirling, and exploring the other. I move my hips to her thrusts, easily matching the rhythm she set. Hetty breaks the kiss to watch.
“Look how pretty you look fucking yourself on my fingers,” Hetty chuckles darkly. She looks back up at me. I know that I must look so far gone. 
I whine at the praise feeling myself clench around her fingers. Her fingers find my G-spot and she applies almost the right amount of pressure to send me careening over the edge. 
Hetty loves driving you crazy on purpose to see what would tumble from your lips as you lose yourself in ecstasy. Hetty keeps her fingers pumping at a steady pace, not allowing you a moment of reprieve. Watching as pleasure tumbles over you and washes over your face. Hetty smiles when she feels the telltale sign of your climax. Your spasming against her fingers, and the excess fluid coating Hety’s fingers. Hetty watches as your hands ball into the sheets grasping for purchase. Your hips stuttering while still trying to keep up the pace. 
“Oh, how much I have missed her” Hetty muses to herself.
“Heavens, I wish you could see how beautiful you look. Your eyes glazed over, your luscious lips parted just so. Are you going to come for me? You know you deserve it. With all the hard work you’ve been doing. I bet you haven’t come this hard since we were last together,”
I do not respond, the only sound in the room is the sound of my wetness as her fingers pump into me. Hearing her voice always had this effect on me, and she is more than aware. 
Her fingers stop thrusting, but her thumb continues to rub against my clit. My legs shake in pleasure as I fight to keep them open. It took one more thrust and a calculated swipe against my clit for my back to arch and stars to explode behind my eyes. 
“What a good girl,” Hetty coos in my ear. Her tone is dark and sultry. 
 “Just like that pretty girl. You’re coming so hard for me,” Hetty says. She moves lover to take one of my breasts in her mouth. Sucking and biting on the erected flesh.
“Henrietta!” I cry out. Tears at the corners of my eyes. 
I collapse on the bed exhausted trying to catch my breath. I feel myself throbbing against Hetty’s fingers, and she removes her fingers slowly. Hetty bends down closer to me to kiss me. This one is lighter and softer than the ones before. 
I watch through half-open eyes as she brings her fingers to her mouth once more. Before her soaked fingers can reach her own lips, I quickly grasp her hand and bring the digits to my awaiting mouth. Hetty watches in surprise as I suck her fingers swirling my tongue around them, tasting myself. If I thought her pupils were large before. Now they are blown. I hear her take a steadying 
“I see why you prefer me over dessert,” I say letting her fingers go. 
“How about one more?” Hetty asks. She takes my breast in each hand kneading them. 
Hetty was not one to people pleaser,  but she does have a knack for making sure her wife is pleased in every aspect of life. Especially in the bedroom. 
“Can I have my wife once while I am still of sound mind?” I ask Hetty.
“I can wait,” Hetty says placing a kiss on my breast then taking a nipple and swirling her tongue around it. 
“That’s not fair Hetty!” I whine.
“Oh, now the tease wants to talk about fair?” Hetty asks with a raised eyebrow rather amused. 
“Please?” I ask. 
“And what is that you want?” Hetty asks not sure if she will indulge my request so easily.
“You…on my face,” I say
I watch Hetty’s throat bob as she swallows hard. 
“ I know you want it. I know you must be so worked up,” I tease. My own hands come to breasts. I bring my head up to them. Kissing them, pinching and pulling on her nipples until they stood fully at attention. 
Soon I have Hetty on my face grinding against my mouth. My fingers dig into the flesh of her backside, as I worship her core with my mouth pulling sounds of praise from her lips. I look up at the sight above me. Hetty’s breasts sway freely while one of her hands runs through her hair. I revel in the taste of her coating my tongue and chin with her juices. Her thighs imprison my head as she jerks above me. Her breathing rough and ragged while she thrusts into my mouth. 
“Oh yes darling, just like that,” Hetty praises.
She grunts before saying, “Flatten your tongue.” 
I flatten out my tongue, and Hetty’s head throws her back. Her curls messy and bouncing as she rides my face. I know now what she was talking about earlier. Seeing your lover come undone was one the best art to witness and it is elating to be the source of said beauty. 
“I’m so close… fuck…so close,” Hetty gasps and her hand comes down to her clit. Pinching and rolling it between her fingers. 
I  feel her body begin to tremble as she approaches her peak. I hear my name tumble from her mouth over and over again like a chant. Her eyes are closed practically screwed shut as she chases her release. Hetty’s movements become faster, a bit more erratic, and finally, she cries out. I take that moment to grasp her hips pulling her further down onto me. I move her hand away from her clit and pursue it with my mouth. I suck with fervor causing Hetty to scream in surprise. 
Eventually, she pushed my head away, sensitive to the touch. 
“Oh..darling…enough…” Hetty pleads, “I can’t take anymore.”
I press one more kiss to her core making her twitch. I release Hetty from my grasp, and she slowly climbs down the top of me. She lays down next to me and wipes my chin. Kissing me softly, still recovering her energy. She takes time to gather herself, and she grabs one of my hands bringing to her lips to kiss the knuckles. 
“I have missed you,” Hetty says. 
“I have missed you,” I respond placing a chaste kiss on her lips. 
The rest of the night is filled with bliss as we discover each other all over again. Months of pent-up tension finally released as our moans and sighs echo off the wall. There is no need for words as groans and whimpers of pleasure communicate our feelings for us. 
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alexanderflowerbird · 1 month ago
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DAY 10
Wahoooo! Today has been a SUPER productive day of writing! I set my goal at 3K and I finished out at a WHOPPING 4207 words! Yippee! Blood Sun Territory has me by the throat in the best way, and I'm so excited to report that while I still have disjointed scenes coming to mind, I have completed the first chapter.
I revealed to my writing group a tragic reveal coming up later in the story and the howling and gnashing of teeth that resulted was so satisfying lol. Being part of a writing group is really gratifying, and honestly? I like these folks and their work so much I'm very tempted to see if they'd like to simply continue writing together after November is over.
Obviously with the holidays coming all of us will end up crawling to our keyboards to get work done, but like... I want to see their projects unfold in real time, and I am enjoying sharing my work with them so much it keeps me motivated to keep working.
The excerpt I have for you today will not be 4000 words lol, but it will be the last parts of the first chapter where Malachi discovers that there's hope in his dream to make things right with Felina and be with his daughter Mercedes in a very touching way. I cried imagining it, so of course he cried too, and it was really cathartic to write all told. I hope you enjoy it! Taglist: @theskeletonprior @thelittlestspider @badscientist @tragedycoded If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post
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“Well, you’ve got a nice little nest egg to start back up with.” She says, pleased for him, and he looks at her with surprise. 
“How much is there?” He asks, because he can’t remember the exact amount he’d had in the bank account before he was put in prison, but he’s sure it wasn’t anything impressive or substantial when he and Felina were living paycheck to paycheck, pouring every dollar they had into their daughter. He’d honestly have been alright with discovering there was nothing at all in the account, that Felina had emptied out his funds to continue taking care of their daughter without a second thought for him. He’s grateful to find something was left, but a ‘nice little nest egg’ is not the phrase he’d have used for what was left in the account when he’d been sentenced.
“Your account is at one thousand dollars exactly, sir. Not a cent more. Nice and even, don’t see that much, I’ll tell you.” The woman says conversationally. Malachi has to grip the counter, his knees weak. A thousand dollars? He had never had a thousand dollars at one time except right when his checks out come in, and even then, it’d disappear almost over night to pay bills and buy groceries and gas and toys and diapers and all sorts of other necessities. The bank teller looks concerned again, so he speaks quickly. 
“Is there a way to uh… see the transactions in my account?” He asks, because surely there’s some mistake. Maybe he somehow made that money in prison and it was put into the account as soon as he left. That feels impossible too, making thirteen cents an hour at the prison and being expected to use it on anything that wasn’t the bare minimum of belongings. No. There’s no way he has a thousand dollars on his own merits. 
“Sure! Let’s see…” The woman clicks at her keyboard a few times and then moves to get up from her seat. “I’ll be right back with that, and I’ll activate that new card for you while I’m at it. Just a minute Mr. D….Ah, sir.” She says, smiling wider before going away from the window. He feels sick, so he focuses on his breaths and closes his eyes, opening them to scan the area around him and take stock of where he is, what’s near him, what everything looks like, anything to quiet the sudden spiral of panic. He notices in this sharpened effort to remain present that the woman’s name is Leslie, it says so on her name tag, a black tag, with gold embossed letters. She has a pin underneath it proudly reporting that she’s been working for this bank for fifteen years. Leslie was just starting her career here when Mercedes was born. She slides a small pile of papers his way along with a new card which has a print on the cover of evergreen trees rather than the old, solid green. It is fresh and glossy, its edges undented with use, the numbers sharply painted a titanium silver color. He accepts the papers and the card. 
“Is it okay if I go take a look at these for a moment?” He asks, still struggling to breathe. 
“Sure of course. Just come back over here when you’re done and we’ll finish up whatever other business you have, alright?” He nods at Leslie, and can feel her eyes on him as he looks around for a moment before settling on the island near the entrance of the bank where the deposit and withdrawal slips are made available for people to fill out on their own. He places the papers on the shiny wood top and begins reviewing the transactions. She was able to pull from five years back only, but immediately the numbers as they ebb and flow are revealing. Felina’s name is there, again and again and again, money going in and coming out. He flips the page, the next page, the last page. The money has been sitting without disturbance for a little over two years. He goes back to the beginning. She’d emptied the account twice, leaving it empty for no longer than a month before more money was trickling in, twenty dollars here, a hundred fifty dollars there, up and up, then down, then up again… and at some point, two years back… she’d left him a perfect, even thousand, and hadn’t needed to touch it since. He chokes a little, gasping for breath as the letters and Felina’s name obscure in his vision. He covers his eyes with his hand, but the tears aren’t halted by him hiding them away. He trembles, eyes clenched shut, gasping out quiet sobs as he blots the fresh ink of the bank account transcript with tears. He can hear people moving around him, cautious to not disturb this moment they don’t understand, but he can’t think of them. He can’t think of anyone but Felina. 
He hadn’t meant to, but he’d betrayed her. He’d loved her with every part of him that could love her, and she’d deserved more than that. He’d lied to her for so long about who he was, what he wanted, let her find out in the worst way. He’d tried to make their lives better quick and dirty, and cost her an extra hand to raise their daughter. He’d destroyed their life, killed it in its crib thinking he’d jump over years of hard work and get them a house and a nice car and he’d get it all without getting in any trouble. Stupid. Stupid and selfish and utterly unworthy. He doesn’t understand it, why even two years ago she was thinking of him. It reminds him of all the times she grabbed him hard by his arm and forced him into a jacket. How she’d sit on the edge of the tub and wash his hair and rub his shoulders, insist upon it even if he thought baths were too feminine an activity only to be utterly relaxed and comforted by her attention. How she’d cook too much of his favorite foods, and when he’d ask why she made so much, she’d smile at him, beautiful beyond words, and say ‘it’s so you can have your favorite tomorrow, too, stupid.’ 
How she’d loved him, more than he’d ever deserved. Even before he knew he liked men, even before she’d caught him, from the very beginning she’d loved him more than he could ever make up for. A thousand dollars. It’s more than enough to go and find her. Now he must say thank you as well as sorry, and he wants to so badly. If somehow he could close the space in an instant, if he could be where she is right now, he’d fall to his knees to thank her, to tell her how sorry he is, how much he loves her. Despite everything, she must love him too, and he’s terrified to hope for that to be true, but when he takes his hand away from his eyes and wipes away his tears, the numbers are clear again and he cannot deny himself this beckoning offer of redemption. She gave him what he needs to come home. Maybe she didn’t mean it that way, but it’s what he intends to do with it. He wants to go home. She’s home. God help him for ruining it all. She’s home, and he has to go to her and their daughter and say thank you and he’s sorry. 
He tries to pull himself together, but it takes several minutes, the complexity of this silent gesture hitting him in waves. She could’ve left him nothing and she would’ve been right to. Wherever she is, she must be doing well enough not to need this thousand dollars. Each time she emptied it out, she could’ve decided fuck him, and let it be, but she couldn’t go thirty days without trying to put more money back in. When he finally has a hold of himself, he returns to find Leslie terribly concerned, her eyes searching him for understanding. 
“You alright, sir?” She asks gently. 
“Yeah I ah… Yeah. Thank you, Leslie. Can I… Can I take a hundred bucks out in cash, please?” Leslie nods immediately and types a few things into the computer. 
“Twenties alright?” She asks. 
“That’ll be fine ma’am. Oh. Actually ah. I need a roll of quarters, the rest can be bills.” He amends. He still needs a payphone, that’s next on the list and he’s not willing to wait on it until he’s found a hotel for the night. He needs to ride the heart wrenching high of this moment and use it to muster his courage. He is terrified more than ever of what awaits him now. It was one thing, to believe he might find Felina and Mercedes and not have a chance to make things right with them. Now, he feels he has a good chance of trying and he might fuck it all up again. That, he is realizing, is much, much scarier. Leslie produces the bills and puts them in an envelope, setting the roll of quarters on top. When Malachi reaches for them, she reaches into the slot and brushes her fingers against his knuckles, her manicured nails stroking lightly across his skin. 
“Hey,” She says gently, and when he meets her eyes, she smiles at him. “You have the best day, sir. Alright?” He smiles at her, teary all over again, unsure what he’s done to deserve any of this, Felina’s saved money for him, his freedom, this stranger’s unprovoked kindness. 
“Thank you, ma’am. You too.” He says softly, taking the money after turning his hand over to squeeze hers, tucking the envelope into his wallet and the roll of quarters into his pocket. When he leaves the bank, the fresh air outside smells of oncoming rain. He wipes his eyes one more time and breathes deep. He knows what he needs to do next, so he turns and makes his way down the street, on the hunt for a pay phone so he can make a call and hope that some how, the world will continue to bless him with kindness he doesn’t deserve, but he hopes to become worthy of.
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justkending · 2 years ago
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Finding Memories. Chapter 2.
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Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Word Count: 4000+
TW: Torture, cussing, and blood. 
A/N: First off, thank you for the love already given to this series. It’s been a fun one to write and I’m impatiently waiting for you guys to get to the juicer chapters. This one is a great start to understanding the relationships ot come and how our main character is going to behave to her new surroundings. I hope you enjoy and can’t wait to hear what all you think and got from it! xoxoxo
Chapter 2:
The next morning, Bucky was hesitant to knock on her door. He didn't want to overstep the one space that she had to herself.
Though it wasn't like he was barging in, yet again, he knew what it meant to have a place of peace and how easily it can lose its sense of amity the more traffic it received.
So he waited. He waited in the lounge area, then he waited in the kitchen, then he waited in the den/ library. Then he waited back in the kitchen again.
He checked his watch and saw it was 7 in the morning. He had already been up for two hours and had done nothing useful besides reading up on the reports Nat gave him over and over again with no change in information.
They would just have to wait until someone was able to decode more of the encrypted drive they had taken.
"I'll be ok. I've had worse."
Bucky turned at the voice he was becoming more familiar with.
"Are you sure? We can go back to the med bay and have them take a look. It looks like it's bruised up pretty nice," another voice came from the hallway he was eavesdropping on.
"It's fresh," she replied shyly, not caring for the attention. It's a lot different from the attention she was used to and a change of intention can be hard to adjust to. "In a few hours, you won't even be able to see it."
They finally came from around the corner and Bucky stood up from his chair, closing the book he had zoned out of multiple times.
"Hey, Barnes," Nat smiled with Y/N by her side. "How long have you been up?"
"A couple of hours. Was doing some research," he replied absentmindedly. His eyes immediately searched for the bruising he heard them talking about. It was hard to miss even when she was actively trying to keep him from seeing it as she looked anywhere in the room but at him. "What happened?" he asked anyway as he was shocked by the black eye she now had.
She looked at Nat and then at him.
"I had a nightmare. Fell off and hit my head on the nightstand," she replied sheepishly.
In truth, she was used to being tied down to a table when she had nightmares, so silk sheets and a bed with no restraints made it easy for her to find herself on the floor the next morning and a black eye for proof of her night terrors.
He looked at the damage as best he could as she tried to cover it with her hair and not bring attention to it.
Before he could make any other comment on it, she excused herself to the kitchen.
"She doesn't like attention, I can tell you that much," Nat whispered as they watched her carefully move around the modern kitchen. Not sure where to start as she had only been there one other time and Bucky was the chef. "Maybe just don't mention it or try to make her feel better about it. She's pretty adamant on not discussing how she got it."
"She doesn't need to say anything. I can imagine what she saw last night," Bucky replied with a deep sigh. "Now let's see what she thinks of on-the-go food."
"What are you doing with her, Barnes? She's barely accustomed to this palace, you better not be taking her to an overpopulated place. She's already on edge about the fact she knows nothing about herself," Nat gave him a raised eyebrow.
"What kind of person do you take me for?" he rolled his eyes. "Obviously I'm not going to put her in a high-stress situation, one day after waking up from a two-day sleep and everything else she went through before."
"I know," Nat chuckled, patting his back. "I'm just making sure." They paused to watch her as she went about the kitchen inspecting appliances and items. "She seems like she'll make it out the other side of the tunnel though," Nat whispered. "She's got some spunk in her, I can tell. We just got to fish it out."
"That's the goal," Bucky took a deep breath crossing his arms.
She was fidgeting with the coffee machine and trying to decipher if the hot brown liquid inside was something she liked before. She had liked the smell, but there were no memories attached to the sense.
"I'm going to take her on a walk of the compound so she can get familiar with it. The more you know about your environment and escape routes with a backstory like hers, it'll hopefully help her tear back some of those walls she's put up."
"Good plan. You may want to help her find a mug though if you want her awake on that walk. I have a feeling she didn't get much rest last night," Nat sighed before moving on to her mission of the day. "I'm going to help Tony maneuver through some of those files we got."
"How's that going?" he asked before she could walk off.
"About as well as your reading this morning did." Her smirk showed that she caught onto his mindless wandering and tricks to look busy as he waited for the new guest to come out this morning. "However, I think it's best to look up some names as well. We can't keep calling her Jane Doe/ that girl we rescued from a terrorist infiltration. Not very fitting for her either way."
"Yeah, I'll make that a goal for today," he nodded. "Keep me updated?"
She was walking away when he shouted his last comment to her.
"Always do," she waved, never looking back.
Bucky took another breath before moving on to his next riddle of the day.
"Need any help?" he asked as she poured some of the coffee into a mug that she had found.
"I'm not sure if I like this stuff," she said back, very focused on making sure she didn't spill any of the coffee. "But it smells really nice," she tilted her head down as she took another sniff.
"You don't think you've had coffee before?" he questioned, grabbing his own mug and refilling it.
"Not that I can remember. I know it's called coffee and I know it helps you stay awake, but that's all I know about it," she shrugged, about to take a swig of it.
Bucky watched as she hesitantly brought the warm drink to her lips. She took a small sip and her face scrunched up at the potency.
"Yeah, you may be better off with some cream and sugar. I make it a little stronger," he noted, looking at the nearly empty pot. "I can make another batch if you want," he offered.
But she waved him off, placing the mug down and going to the fridge for the creamer he had mentioned. She was at least knowledgeable about where the creamer would be. So perhaps she had done normal things in her past.
A human lab experiment wasn't one to know where household items are generally kept. At least the ones that have never seen a light outside fluorescent bulbs hovering over them. It was a small new detail about her, but a detail either way.
"Do you want sugar?" he asked, grabbing a few packets.
She nodded, taking the packets and thanking him before stirring them all together. With a quick look at him, she silently communicated with him a "here it goes," look before taking a new sip.
Her face didn't scrunch this time and instead, she had a look of realization.
"Do you guys have any..." She was trying to find the word. One she was sure she hadn't used in a long time if it was taking this long to come to her. "It's a spice," she said, hoping he would pick up on it.
"Spice? Sweet or savory?" he asked, going to the cupboard to search for something that would blend well with coffee.
"That one," she pointed out.
He turned and followed her finger seeing she was talking about the cinnamon.
"Oh, cinnamon?" he asked, pulling down the small jar and handing it to her.
She took it and examined the label. She turned it around in her hand a few times and carefully opened the lid.
"Is this sweet?" she asked, looking up at him.
"I guess you can call it that. It does go well with coffee though. The Parker kid has talked about it before," he said more to himself.
"Parker kid?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah. He's a member of the team," he answered. "He's pretty young and has school most of the time, but when he isn't there, he's here annoying us."
It was true. Peter Parker was the second little brother Bucky didn't plan on gaining in his life. Though he made himself useful when Bucky needed a pop culture explanation. Especially when Tony would drop them casually in conversation just to annoy Bucky.
"School? You have a kid on your team that's still in school?" She was slightly concerned.
"Don't worry, he's a smart kid," Bucky leaned against the counter. "He'll be studying for his college classes and hunting down a criminal during his snack time."
"They have snack time in college?" she tilted her head genuinely curious.
"He may be a teenager, but compared to me, he's a toddler. Plus, he gets hangry when he doesn't get his 1:30 snack."
"For someone who seems annoyed by the kid, you're awfully in tune with his schedule," she smiled up at him.
Bucky couldn't help but return it. This was the longest they had talked and he was learning she was quite observant.
"He's the little brother I didn't want, but I can't help but look out for the kid," Bucky shrugged, adding a sugar packet to his black drink before indulging in it.
"Sounds like a recurring action of yours," she said slyly as she took a sip with the cinnamon now in the drink.
Bucky took note of that spark of spunk Nat had mentioned and couldn't help but grin that it was coming out so soon.
He watched her reaction after she took a few more sips and her eyebrows lifted.
"I think I like cinnamon," she realized with a small sense of pride in her comment.
"Add it to the list," he grinned. "How do you feel about walks?" he asked next.
"Walks?" she asked, confused at the action. "Like just walking around?"
"Uh-huh," he answered, taking the last bit of the coffee in the pot and transferring it to a travel mug. "We can take that to go, or we can wait until you're finished."
"I'll take it to go," she nodded, holding it delicately in her hand.
"Ok, let's get you set up and we'll head out."
_________________
They grabbed a jacket from the closet in her room, even though it was bigger on her, she rolled up the sleeves and was comfortable in the brisk fall air.
Bucky started her off in the immediate meeting area. Showing her where the den and library were, where the living room and movie room were, and anywhere else she would have access to in the living space.
She was quiet for most of the tour and was taking in the mass amount of resources and activities they had at their fingertips. All she knew when it came to free time was being put to sleep and thrown into another room before more procedures were done to her... At least that's all she remembered so far.
On their way outside, he motioned to where the training room and gym were. A place she could go to if she needed to find anyone for help. There was a decent chance that there was at least one person who could help her there at any time.
Once outside, they took the scenic route around the compound. Keeping their distance from the hustle and bustle of agents and aircrafts taking off and leaving for missions.
"So there are more people that work here than just your avenging group?" she asked, hands in her jacket pockets as she tugged it closer to her body.
The way she worded the group's name made him laugh.
"We're a whole organization. Tony Stark, who's the one who pays for all this and the one who had your room all set up, is also one of the Avengers," he explained. "Steve, who you know as the man with the shield, is also known as Captain America. Well at least that's his superhero name and rank, but he's just as much of a dork as the Peter kid sometimes."
"And the Peter kid is the spider boy, right?" she asked
"Yes, Spiderboy. Hmm mm," he hummed, not correcting her as he had described him as that, to begin with.
"Nat seems really nice too. She also has superpowers?"
"Nat is enhanced, but she doesn't go as far as to classify herself as a superhero personally. She was a very well-known spy for a long time before joining this life."
"What about you?" she turned to him.
"Me?" he repeated.
"Yeah, do you have any powers?" She looked at the trees around her as she asked. Taking in as much of the greenery as possible.
"Steve and I's enhancements are pretty similar. Why and how we got them couldn't be more opposite, but I guess you could say I have powers..." he shrugged, looking over at her before following her eye line.
A few seconds of silence went on before she turned to him with a look of confusion on her face.
Though she had noticed the metal arm all the way back to when they first met, she had never stared or mentioned it like others were quick to. Never questioned or hinted at wanting to know what the backstory to it was, but something in her gut told her his answer to her last question has some sort of association with the arm.
Again, she didn't push. She just continued to walk as she processed everything in her own time. Bucky was really just there to answer questions and guide her around. He was intrigued by her story just as much as everyone else that was on that mission, but like them, he was waiting for answers to arise.
"Hey," he spoke up after a few minutes of silence passed. "I know I told you I'd let you sleep on it some more, but any chance a name has come to you."
She took his question and processed it for a second.
"Not really," she replied. "I heard some things that-," she paused, not sure what to call her captors. The memory of them was not one she was interested in looking back on, no matter how helpful it would be in the long run. "They called me..." she finished. "But never a real name."
He knew what she meant. Being used as a lab rat meant that a name that holds emotional ties and connections to an individual was not common in this situation. She was likely given a code name, or a number, or called slurs the majority of the time.
"Well, consider it another thing you get to choose," he continued in a way to make the conversation less upsetting. "Is there anything you would want to be called?"
She thought about it as they rounded the nature trail they were on. But eventually, she shook her head.
"I guess that's a pretty big decision." He placed his hands in his front pocket as they made their way slowly back to the living space. "I have an idea," he reached into his back pocket and fished out his phone. "I'll pull up a list of names and you can see if any of them sound fitting for you. And if not today, maybe you can do some research of your own and find something you like."
"Ok," she nodded, taking his phone that he had quickly searched up girl names on. She scrolled for a bit but didn't seem intrigued by any of the names she had found. After a few mumbles, as she read to herself the options, she stopped. "Wait, this one," she pointed, lifting the phone for him to see.
"Y/N?" he asked, testing the name himself. "You like that one?"
"I think so, but..." she paused and closed her eyes. "Something seems familiar about it."
"You have a connection to it?"
She again tried to think back on it. Her nose scrunched up as she closed her eyes trying really hard to remember why it was clicking somewhere. Something he had noticed she did anytime she thought hard about something.
"I'm not sure," she eventually sighed. "But I like it. Do I seem like a Y/N?"
"I don't see why not," he smiled. "I like it."
She smiled back, though he could tell it was slightly forced in an attempt to cover the frustration on why the name sparked something in her mind, yet she couldn't place why.
"Y/N it is," she said.
_________________
"I'm telling you, it's the only answer to what you're asking me," a voice echoed through the hall as Y/N and Bucky made their way back for lunch after a long and eventful walk around the compound.
"I'm not saying it's the wrong answer... I'm just saying it's-"
"It's an answer," a third voice was heard, with a hint of uncertainty.
"Wanda! Don't side with her."
"What's happening in here?" Bucky asked, turning the corner and putting a face to all the voices he had heard.
Sam was on one side of the counter, sitting on a bar stool. Natasha was in the fridge grabbing a cooled bottle of wine, and Wanda was in the middle of cooking what smelled like a nice roast or soup.
"Oh, hey!" Nat smiled, seeing that their new guest was somewhat hiding behind Bucky at the new people. "You guys are just in time for our lunch date," she smiled kindly to the woman before turning her attention to Bucky. "How was your walk?"
Bucky smiled, walking into the room slowly, checking behind him to see how close Y/N was following him. Not to his surprise, she was at least a foot away to give him some form of space, but close enough to feel like she had an anchor around the new crowd.
"It went well. We stayed on the hiking trail most of the time, but she should have an idea of the place a little better now," he answered. "What do you have going, Wanda?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam stood up from his chair. "You're just going to act like there isn't a guest here? Where are your 1940's era manners?"
No one noticed, but her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity at the specifics of his question.
"Cool your jets," Bucky was quick to block her from him as he knew she was already skittish with everything going on, let alone new people. "She's who I mentioned was going to be staying with us for a little bit until we get some things figured out."
"Right," Sam remembered. "Sorry, I just got back from a long mission. I forgot all that happened while I was gone. And I've only been informed about pieces of what happened." He walked over to where Y/N was next to Bucky, but still behind him in shelter. "Sorry for my manners," he emphasized. "And his too, but I can only take credit for my own actions."
That got a small snicker out of her. Sam was good like that.
"Shut up," Bucky rolled his eyes.
"You first," Sam responded instinctively, before ignoring him and looking at her with a kind smile. "I'm Sam. Sam Wilson. I don't believe I've caught your name yet, sweetheart."
She could feel a sense of trust toward this person. The same she was slowly realizing she could easily give with this group of people she was gradually being introduced to.
"My name's Y/N," she replied softly. "It's nice to meet you, Sam."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," he grinned, before turning to the side and motioning to the empty bar stools in front of the chef herself. "Want to watch Wanda work her magic on the stove? She's got a gift for comfort meals on cold and dreary days like today."
She looked to Bucky once again, looking for something to tell her the coast was clear. He nodded his head once showing he'd be right behind her.
After the three sat in front of where the auburn-haired woman was adding the last bits of spices to the pot, Natasha walked up next to Wanda handing her a glass of wine.
"So, Y/N," she stretched out the name, sending a smirk showing she was happy to have a name to connect to her. "Bucky's not giving you any trouble, is he? Cause I can set him straight if need be."
Bucky once again rolled his eyes at the teasing from his teammates.
"Nat, aren't you supposed to be in a meeting with Stark right now?" He attempted to divert the conversation.
"Nothing that can't be sent in an email. He'll be fine," she waved him off. "Find anything interesting out there?" she asked, only looking at Y/N.
"Um," she started but wasn't sure what to follow with it. "It's a nice place."
"We have a billionaire to thank for that," Wanda winked, sipping her wine before introducing herself. "I'm Wanda. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N."
"Wanda?" she echoed. "Wanda Maximoff, right?"
Eyes widened at her comment in surprise, except for Buckys. It didn't take a lot to realize she was very good at picking up and remembering things given the space and motivation to do so.
"That's me," she smiled. "Bucky's been helpful enough to fill you in on the team's roster I assume?"
"I have a lot of questions that need to be answered, but I'm learning I don't necessarily know the type of questions to ask," she replied, hands in her lap and body language showing she was still shy and reserved. "But Bucky has helped make me feel like I have some kind of grasp on this place and the people in it."
The group looked at him, in what you could say was a surprised way, but as much hell as they gave him for being the quieter one of the group, he always had a heart for those who needed it.
"We're glad you're here with us," Wanda spoke up with a comforting smile. "You're with the right group and person," she looked at Bucky, "to figure out who you are. Now, I'm guessing you're hungry after that walk. How do you feel about a pot roast?"
____________
By the time lunch was over, Bucky noticed that Y/N's black eye had slight discoloration, but for the most part, was healed.
She did well with the small group of friends, though it was likely the most interaction she had had in a while on a friendly basis. With each passing hour, he could see her relax little by little as her new environment was proving itself consistently safe.
Nat laughed at how Sam was quickly already trying to spread his music taste to the new member and took a bite of the scrapes of bread left in the basket in the center of them all.
Her phone vibrated on the table and her smile dissipated just enough for a trained eye to see. Bucky happened to have that trained eye and noticed once she looked at him after receiving the message.
She excused herself and gave him a look that showed where his thoughts had gone were correct.
 They had an update.
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after-witch · 1 year ago
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Bright Lights [Chapter 3] [Small Spaces Sequel]
Title: Bright Lights [Chapter 3] [Small Spaces Sequel]
Synopsis: Sam goes home after school to have a serious, life-changing sit-down conversation with her mom about going to the circus, only to find the Battersby's car is in the driveway... on a Thursday. Unexpectedly.
notes: This chapter is about 4000 words so oof almost 4x longer than the previous chapters. Still trying to figure out the sweet spot for chapter length with these.
CHAPTER A03 LINK
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I’m going to get home just in time for dinner, Sam thought. 
The streets were lined with autumn-tinged trees, all golds, oranges and reds, mingled with the lingering green of summer. The street-lights weren’t on, and the sidewalks held scattered signs of life. Parents taking a walk with fussy children in strollers; an old man with his dog that looked just as ancient as he did. 
And a teenager, walking home from school, hands stuffed in her pockets and worries settled deep in her gut. 
It wasn’t dark out yet, but that would start to change in a few weeks. And it was usually around that time that her mom insisted on picking Sam up from school on days she stayed late; because of the weather, or so she said. 
But for now, she could walk home, and it was better this way. Especially after this morning–and especially because of what she wanted to ask when she got home. 
She usually stayed after school in the fall to help out with prep for the upcoming school play. This year, they were doing a modern retelling of Alice in Wonderland. Sam thought it was too bad that Owen was too shy to audition; he would’ve made a great Mad Hatter.
But right now, Sam was thinking less about Owen’s stage fright and more about what she was going to say to her mom. She rounded the last corner to her street, and didn’t have much more time to think about it.
What was she going to say? It was hard to come up with a plan when she’d spent the last few years being given stricter rules. While her friends were getting later curfews and more freedom, Sam’s mom was treating her like a little kid.
Don’t go out after dark in the fall. You could get lost.
You can’t go to a bonfire party in the summer. Something could happen. 
If you’re not skiing at the Battersby’s, you’re not skiing anywhere. 
No, I don’t care that your friend’s houseboat has life jackets. If there aren’t parents and there isn’t a curfew, it’s not happening.
It was totally nonsensical. It wasn’t like Sam was a bad kid. She never got detention, did her homework. She wasn’t even sneaking out and drinking like some kids her age.. Well–Owen had let her and Elisa taste some whiskey that his dad left in an unlocked cabinet once, but it tasted nasty and she had no desire to try it again)
So what on Earth could she say to her mom that might change her mind? 
The gray clouds blanketing the sky didn’t help with her increasingly gloomy thoughts; if anything, it felt like the world was reflecting her mood. Sour. Frustrated. And above all, anxious.
Because she was going to take Owen up on his advice. She was going to go home, sit down with her mom, and plead her case for the circus field trip. 
Did she know what she was going to say? No. Was she confident that it would work? Also no.
But if she could just convince her mom to let her go on the trip, maybe she could convince her mom to loosen the reins in other ways. She could stay out later, do fun things with friends that didn’t require exchanging parental contact information and a million check-ins.
And maybe she’d start to feel like a real teenager and not some picture perfect wallflower; someone who acted more like a goody-two-shoes little kid than a teen who was going to be an adult in a few years.
One step at a time, Sam, one step at a time.
Speaking of one step–Sam stopped just before the steps leading up to the Egg. Parked behind her mom’s shiny SUV and her grandpa’s beat-up car that he didn’t drive anymore was a familiar blue van. On the back of it were bumper stickers in varying shades of disrepair, including a prominent sticker that said I’D RATHER BE PLAYING CHESS.
Sam’s stomach felt like it was getting pulled in a million directions.
Aunt Coco and uncle Brian were visiting for dinner. On a weekday. Unexpectedly. 
Would that help or hurt her case? Could she even try to sit down with her mom with them here? Maybe she should just give up on the plan, accept she wasn’t going to the circus next week, and get on with her life.
What life? You never get to do anything.
The thought came almost unbidden to Sam’s mind. 
But the thought was on the right track. If she didn’t at least try to convince her mom, she’d probably be mad at herself forever. 
And maybe aunt Coco and uncle Brian would stick up for her. They weren’t as strict as her mom with their kids, and the twins were way younger than Sam. And her mom was a lot more likely to let Sam do things if Coco and Brian were involved; she seemed to trust them more than anyone else. 
Their appearance at dinner could be a good thing, after all. At least, Sam hoped it would be. 
Taking a breath, she gripped the straps of her backpack, shifted its weight on her shoulders, and walked inside the house–
Where she was immediately tackle-hugged by her two highly energetic cousins, excitedly chanting her name on repeat. They always acted like they hadn’t seen her for ages, even though she saw them at least once a week at Sunday family dinners. 
James and Charlotte Battersby were 8 years old. If you were to ask them, they would say that they loved being twins, but hated being the same. Which is probably why their parents never forced them into matching outfits and even let them have birthday parties on different days. James liked painting and had an entire wall dedicated to his growing murals. Charlotte was, despite her young age, a rather terrifying force during elementary school field hockey matches.
“Hey, hey,” said Sam, smiling as she gave the twins a squeeze. “Don’t knock me over. I’m so tired from school that I might not get back up again.” She put her hand on her forehead and pretended to feel faint. 
The twins backed up and gave Sam some space. But before she could leave the entryway to drop her backpack off in front of the stairs, the twins planted their feet firmly in front of her. They didn’t move, even when Sam tried to sidestep them.
“Excuse me,” she said with a laugh in her voice. “I’d like to get into my own house now. Preferably sometime before spring.”
But James and Charlotte only looked at one another in the special way they sometimes did. Coco once told Sam that she thought they might actually be able to talk telepathically, but Sam couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. 
“Are you in trouble?” asked Charlotte after a moment. She was studying Sam’s face too seriously for her age. 
Sam’s heartbeat skidded inside her chest.
“Um, no.” She swallowed hard. “I mean, I don’t think so. Why would you say that?”
The twins looked at one another again, and then Charlotte nodded at her brother. He cleared his throat and leaned in, whispering. 
“I heard your mom call our mom, and your mom asked if my mom and dad would come over for dinner tonight even though it’s not the weekend, because she was worried about you.” James frowned. “Or did she say she was worried about something happening to you?” He sighed, and his eyebrows furrowed together.. “And she said something about a man…” He looked at Charlotte. “I can’t remember the rest. It was super weird though, right?” 
Charlotte shrugged, but Sam thought inexplicably that maybe Charlotte did remember what her mom said on the phone and just didn’t want to say. What did James mean, “a man”? 
Was her mom talking to Coco and Brian about her dad? Was this about the divorce? Or–was there something else? Something her mom wasn’t telling her, and Coco and Brian knew about it? It wouldn’t be the first time she felt like they were keeping secrets. Most adults did. 
Then she shook her head, feeling stupid. What a strange thing to think. Her mom had probably called aunt Coco because she and Sam had really been butting heads lately. The circus field trip stunt this morning was just the last straw.  
“Sammers!” 
Despite the knot in her stomach, Sam couldn’t help but grin when she turned to face the doorway leading into the dining room and kitchen. Even though she saw them at least once a week, her uncle Brian and aunt Coco always had that effect on her. Especially Coco. Heck, Coco had that effect on most people. She was like a ray of sunshine personified. If you weren’t feeling great, you could always count on Coco to make you feel better. 
Ollie hovered behind the pair as they gave Sam warm hugs and herded her and the twins into the dining room, where dinner was being dished out by grandpa Roger. Sam was glad to see him up and about. He had a stroke a few years ago, before they moved back to Evansburg. That was why they lived with him now. He’d come a long way since then, but there were still days where he had trouble walking or remembering things. Small things, usually. But sometimes big ones, too. 
Today, though, he was all grins as heaped spaghetti into everyone’s bowls and set down plates of bread. Sam took a sniff. It was fresh bread–warm, inviting. It smelled like the Egg ought to smell, she thought. He’d been in the kitchen that afternoon, for sure. Probably insisted on baking it once he heard Coco, Brian and the twins were coming over. 
No one wasted time digging in–his food was simply that good. 
“I wanted to make a roast,” Roger said suddenly. “But I didn’t have time to defrost one with such short notice. What’s the special occasion, anyway?”
He looked at Ollie, but she didn’t answer. 
Coco quickly twirled spaghetti around her fork and took a grateful bite. 
“That’s okay, dad, your spaghetti is my favorite. It was mom’s favorite, too.” 
Roger got a soft look on his face all of the sudden, looking at Coco with an expression Sam couldn’t quite place. Then he wiped his eyes, and Sam’s heart clenched. 
Sam didn’t remember much about Coco’s mom–Sam’s grandma Zelda. She died when Sam was only 5. But she remembered how much her grandpa loved her. Loves her still–and loves Ollie, and Brian, and his grandkids. Sometimes she wondered if he still loved her dad, but it wasn’t something she really wanted to ask him. 
The conversation around dinner was pleasant, but Sam felt like there was a conversation waiting in the wings, stretched tighter and tighter as the meal went on. Everyone here knew something was up–even the twins. It was just a matter of waiting for the thin ice to break. 
“So,” Coco suddenly said in a clear voice, turning towards Sam. “Your mom tells me you want to go to a circus?”
Brian choked on his drink, and the twins looked at one another with a knowing glance. Ollie finally looked up from her spaghetti–first at Coco, and then at Sam. 
Sam tucked a loose curl that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, and nodded.
“Um.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, but didn’t take a bite. “Yeah. It’s a field trip next week. We even get extra credit for it.” She paused. “But I honestly don’t care about the extra credit. I just think it’d be neat to go for once, you know?.” 
She shoved her fork in her mouth, and talked through her bite. Though had the quick decency to cover her mouth with her hand, but only because Coco gave her a familiar look that meant “I’m trying to teach my feral twins tableside manners, please don’t blow it.” 
“It’s called Mr. Elim’s circus, and they’ve got like, everything. Acrobats and animals and fire breathers. It says so on the poster.” 
“Can we see the poster?” asked Brian.
Sam’s heart soared. “Of course!” She dashed away from the table–sorry, aunt Coco, table manners have to be set aside sometimes–and came back with the slightly crinkled advertisement. 
Brian took it and held it out for Coco and Ollie to see. They studied it for what felt like forever. Even the twins leaned up in their seats to get a look at it. 
“Animals,” James mouthed, while Charlotte stared at the figure of the ringmaster.
Finally, Brian set the poster down and nodded at Coco, who smiled kindly in a way that made Sam’s shoulders start to relax. 
“Can I ask you a few questions about the field trip?”
Sam nodded. This was a good start, she thought. A rational discussion. Not spur-of-the-moment rejection.
“Where’s it being held?” 
“The old fairgrounds.” 
Both Coco and Brian glanced at Ollie, who suddenly had a strange, pinched expression on her face. 
“You don’t like carnivals, Ollie-pop,” said Roger, quietly. 
Olile looked at her dad with an almost startled expression, which she quickly smoothed over into a tight smile. 
“Nah, not anymore. I’m so old the tilt-a-whirl just makes me puke, you know?”
Charlotte and James simultaneously said ewww but Sam only thought, strangely but strongly, that her mom wasn’t telling the truth. 
But she didn’t dwell on it long, because Coco looked back at Sam, and continued her line of questioning.
“Do you know how your school heard about it?”
What a weird question, Sam thought. But at least her aunt was listening to her, not dismissing her outright like her mom usually did when it came to things like this. 
“The school got a flier or something like that,” she answered. “My teacher said one of our rival high schools went to the same circus last year, but this circus hasn't been to Evansburg in a while.” 
“Do they have a website?” Ollie asked suddenly, with a quiet and almost serious urgency. It made Sam’s stomach start to feel queasy again, which was especially unfortunate, given that grandpa Roger had made one of her favorite dishes.
“No,” Sam said slowly, after a moment. She wished that they did have a website. She looked it up earlier, hoping to gain some intel that she could use in her conversation with her mom. But they didn’t even have a Facebook page, much less a real website or any other social media. 
“But,” she said, seeing the way her answer made her mom’s frown pinch tighter, “My teacher said it was a really old-school circus that mainly goes to small towns. They probably don’t have to bother with websites since they’re not some big fancy company.”
The answer didn’t seem to satisfy her mom, but Coco smiled at Sam, which made the pit in her stomach recede again. 
“That would make sense, if they tend to stick to small towns. How long would you be at the circus? Is it an all-day thing?”
Sam shook her head. “Nope, just until the afternoon. We’d be getting on the bus in the morning, going to see the morning show, then coming back in time for lunch at school.” 
Coco nodded. Sam wished she knew what answers her aunt–or rather, her mom–wanted. Instead, there was a feeling like she was in limbo, wondering if she was going to end up in the red or green with each answer she gave. 
“And will there be a teacher or chaperone with you the whole time? Or are they letting you sit by yourselves?”
“We’re all staying together–” 
“That doesn’t matter,” Ollie interrupted. “You know that doesn’t matter, Coco.” 
Coco pressed her lips together and, for a moment, looked uncharacteristically serious. Like she was remembering something unpleasant. 
“True. But it’s better than wandering on their own, don’t you think? Just a little safer?”
Ollie sighed, while Coco just leaned back a little in her chair. 
“So,” she said, using a voice that Sam liked to call her teacher voice, “let’s sum up. The field trip is to a circus that sticks to small towns. You’ll be leaving in the morning and coming back by lunch. Everyone is staying with the teacher the whole time.” 
Sam shoved a nervous bite of spaghetti into her mouth. The taste was good but overpowered by her rattled nerves. She nodded, and mumbled mm-hmm as she chewed the noodles. 
“Well…” Coco turned towards Sam’s mom, and her expression went from prim teacher to soft and concerned. “What do you think, Ollie?” 
Ollie sighed and put her face in her hand for a few long moments. Even the twins had stopped their side-chatter with grandpa Roger, who started to reach out towards Ollie, but stopped when she looked up and leaned over to stare again at the poster.
“I know you want to go to the circus, Sam,” she said, and Sam knew what answer was coming before Ollie even said it. How many times had she heard her mom talk in that tone of voice?
“But you won’t let me,” Sam finished for her. 
Ollie swallowed, and reached her hand out across the table towards Sam’s own. Sam didn’t move to meet her mother’s touch. 
“It’s not that simple,” Ollie said. “I know you’re disappointed.”
Anger began to bubble inside Sam’s gut. Her shoulders tensed until they actually hurt. 
“What’s not simple? It’s a circus. What could happen at a circus?”
Ollie, Brian and Coco looked at each other at the same time, and Sam felt like she wanted to shout. There it was again, some unspoken bond between them, something they didn’t share with Sam or anyone else. 
Coco reached out and touched Ollie’s arm, and Ollie’s expression changed.
“There are… reasons I can’t let you go,” Ollie said softly.
“What reasons?” Sam and the twins all said at the same time. Sam, frustrated. The twins, curious and curiouser. 
Ollie gave Coco a look and Coco gave Brian a look and Brian gave the twins a look. They grabbed their half-finished plates of spaghetti and headed into what had once been a fancy parlor, but was now a sort of playroom-spareroom. Roger told the twins to wait for him, and they scampered back to help him up. 
“Remember,” he said, slowly but steadily making his way with the twins out of the dining room, “We don’t go to bed angry in this house, okay?”
“I know, dad,” Ollie said, her voice and face softer as she watched her dad carefully make his way out of the dining room.
“What reasons?” Sam repeated. The anger was gone now, replaced by the tired injustice she’d been feeling all day. 
Coco opened her mouth, and then shut it. She looked at Ollie, but Ollie only stared ahead at Sam. She looked so tired, Sam thought. She knew her mom was tired. Weren’t all moms tired? Even the ones who weren’t raising teens in their childhood towns and taking care of their dads and working at a job they weren’t eager to do. 
Ollie kept her hand in the middle of the table. It looked silly, Sam thought. She was probably wanting to see if Sam would take her hand. Stubbornness kept her hands pressed down in her lap.
“I…” Ollie began. But she shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Not now. Maybe when you’re older. Just know that they’re good reasons. I’m not trying to be some crazy strict mom, Sam. Really.”
Sam’s fingers dug into her thigh. “You’re not trying very hard,” she mumbled.
“Sam,” Brian said. Sam got the impression that Brian would throw himself in front of a car if one were barreling right for her mom. Or her aunt Coco. And they’d do the same for each other. 
Sam was used to her mom rebuking her, but not her uncle Brian. Her cheeks got heated and she stared down at her partially eaten dinner plate.
“I never get to do anything. I never get to go anywhere.”  She didn’t care that she sounded whiny. It was justified whining, in her opinion. More than justified. 
“You went to the movies with your friends last week,” her mom said. 
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Because I wasn’t allowed to go to the campout that Elisa’s sister was throwing and they felt bad. And my friends got dropped off at Elisa’s house after, while I had to go home right away.”
Ollie’s back straightened up defensively. “There weren’t going to be any adults at the campout. You know my rule on that.”
Sam slapped her hands on the table. It sounded less dramatic than she hoped it would.
“It was just camping behind her house.”
“Way behind her house. In the woods,” said Ollie.
“Hey,” Brian interrupted. “Why don’t we focus on the field trip–”
“I’m just trying to explain myself.” Ollie said. 
And that’s what broke the bubble that had been building in Sam’s gut all day, whether she knew it or not. Later, she would blush at the memory of snapping at her mom in front of her aunt and uncle, sounding like a whiny little kid. But in the moment, all she felt was righteously angry.
“You’re not explaining anything! Why are you so paranoid all the time? Why can’t you let me do stupid things like go on field trips/? Guess what, mom, everyone still remembers the most embarrassing day of my life! Aka, when you freaked out about Misty Valley Farm.” 
Her mom’s face seemed to drain of something essential. So did Coco and Brian’s. They looked like they’d seen a ghost. 
That was what alarmed Sam the most. She’d never seen them look like that, except maybe when they first showed up at the hospital after grandpa’s stroke. 
A million questions wanted to fly out of Sam’s mouth. Mom, what’s wrong? Did something bad happen? Is that why you act so weird sometimes? But she couldn’t ask them. They were stuck, like a a warty toad in her throat. 
Something stubborn and awful kept her from reaching her hand out towards her mother’s and squeezing, even though she knew she could; knew she should.
“Is everything okay?” Roger called out from the spare room. The sound of the twins scampering halted for the moment. The Egg was quiet; a rare circumstance. In this case, not a pleasant one. 
It was Coco who broke the spell.
“Yeah, dad. Just taking a moment to think about things!” 
Sam’s fingers fidgeted with her shirt and wound around a stray bit of hair. She watched her mom regain her senses, watched Coco and Brian rub her mom’s back and glance at Sam. Waiting for her to say something. Or do something.
But Ollie spoke before Sam could think of what that ought to be.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “There are things I have to do as a parent to keep you safe, even when you don’t like it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sam’s lips quivered. Her heart lurched. 
“You don’t want me to live my life,” she muttered, taking a step away from the dinner table. “I’m going to do my homework and go to bed. Goodnight.” She didn’t look up, didn’t respond to all three adults saying her name. She didn’t even say anything when she heard the twins' thudding feet run back into the dining room or when they asked why she was going to bed early. 
But guilt is a heavy thing. When she reached the staircase, she paused. 
“Goodnight!” She didn’t turn around, unable to hide the way her jaw shook or the tears that started to come down. “Love you aunt Coco, love you uncle Brian. Love you James and Charlotte. See you guys Sunday. Love you grandpa.”
Even though she didn’t turn around, Sam felt she knew that her mom was still sitting there with her hand in the middle of the table, reaching out for the Sam who was no longer there.
She didn’t say anything more.
Instead, she grabbed her backpack and bounded up the stairs, then went straight into her room. She flipped on the overhead light and sat at her desk. She knew what she was going to do. Maybe she’d made the decision earlier in the day and just didn’t realize it.
Sam Alder pulled out the wrinkly permission slip, set it on her desk, and forged her mom’s familiar scrawling signature. 
She stared at the paper for a while. It seemed like such a silly thing to be anxious about. Lots of kids forged their parent’s signature, right? She was just one of them now. Just a normal teenager, doing normal teenage things. 
When she pulled out her phone, her face was briefly reflected in the black screen. Tears made her cheeks look all shiny. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were puffy. 
And she was going to that damn circus.
She quickly snapped a photo of the permission slip before she shoved it deep into the safety of her backpack. Her mom didn’t dig through her things–that she knew of–and besides, all she had to do was get it to school tomorrow and there was no chance of her mom finding it. 
Sam’s breath was shaky when she stood up and threw herself on the bed, grabbing her favorite pillow with a vintage floral pillowcase that aunt Coco had given her a few years ago. She grabbed her phone and brought up the group text with Owen and Elisa.
Her fingers tapped the letters quickly, as her shaking jaw calmed, as a nervous smile began to creep onto her face.
She sent the photo of the permission slip, and then the text: You guys still up for the circus thing?
A few moments, and then, Owen: um yes
Elisa was next: YES!! 
YES!
YESSSSS
Sam’s heartbeat felt so loud that she swore it drowned out the sound of everything else. There was no going back now, was there? 
She wiped at the remnants of her tears, and sent another text: Then let’s do it!
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roosterforme · 2 years ago
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Old Habits Die Hard Part 17 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: As graduation comes and goes, you and Bradley share some firsts and some lasts. 
Warnings: Angst, swears, fluff and smut
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)
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Bradley held your hand while you waited in the long line to get fitted for caps and gowns. You kept reaching up to turn his hat to the side, and he kept turning it backwards. But he finally gave up and let it stay crooked. 
"Damn," you muttered as you inched along through the gymnasium. "How many people are in our graduating class?"
"No idea, Sugar. You're the math whiz. Not me."
You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. "You know how our classes are kind of just a formality right now?"
"Yeah," he responded a bit skeptically. 
"And how we'll probably ace all of our finals next week without even studying very much?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.
"And you know how pretty soon we'll be almost a thousand miles apart?"
Bradley leaned in close and kissed your nose. "What are you getting at, Sugar?"
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his nose in retaliation, earning you a laugh. "Well, what if we just skip all of our classes after this and do something fun?"
As you both inched closer to the front of the line, Bradley asked, "What did you have in mind?" 
"Anything. I just want to spend time with you." 
Bradley smirked at you while you got measured side by side, and then he finally said, "How about we hang out in the study room?"
You smirked right back at him. "I know what that means, Beer Boy."
"I know you know what that means, Sugar."
With navy blue caps and gowns wrapped up in plastic, you and Bradley raced down the sidewalk to the library. The librarian greeted both of you by name, something that still made Bradley marvel since he had never visited the library prior to January. 
Bradley followed you as quietly as possible through the stacks and toward the study rooms. But every so often, you turned back to look at him, and he couldn't help laughing. 
When the door was gently closed, and Bradley had wedged a chair under the doorknob, he pressed you back against the wooden surface.
"I heard you're graduating at the top of your major," he whispered, gently running his fingers down the front of your leggings. 
"You heard right," you replied with pride in your voice as you tipped your head to the side and let him kiss your neck. 
"Hmm, you must be pretty smart then." Bradley basked in the sound of you moaning as he teased you.
You gasped as he sucked on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. "Yeah...you could say that." You tossed his hat to the floor, and your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging softly and sending a thrill through him.
"I love smart girls," he murmured, and now he was working one hand down inside your leggings and pressing you back against the door with the other. "I love kissing them until they sound stupid. And I love touching them until they sound so fucking dumb."
"Bradley," you groaned as his fingers found your sweet spot. "Feels good."
"You want a little more?" he asked, pressing his hardness against your thigh. He felt your hands scrambling for the front of his jeans as you nodded, and your lips parted for him to devour your mouth as he slipped a finger into your pussy. "Don't worry about me. I'm going to get you off first."
Slowly your hands drifted up the front of his shirt until you were grasping his shoulders. Bradley finger fucked you against the door until your legs were shaking and you started gettting loud.
"Shh," he whispered, but he had to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. "Sugar, you're so loud for me." He rammed his fingers into you so hard, you were squeezing your eyes shut as you shook. "It's okay."
Bradley watched your eyes open and flutter closed again as he removed his hand from inside you. "Fuck me," you whispered as your fingers languidly unzipped his jeans, and Bradley scrambled to get a condom out of his wallet.
"Shit!" he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his cock. "We used the last one yesterday, and I never replaced it."
But you were easing him back toward one of the chairs. "That's okay. I think we could recreate the first time you got me off in here."
Bradley sat down with his jeans and boxers around his thighs, and he watched intently as you removed your shoes and leggings. You kept on the tiny scrap of purple fabric that was supposedly your underwear, and you straddled Bradley's lap. When you held his cock in your hand and started grinding against him through your underwear, his head tipped back.
"Oh yeah, Sugar." He tipped his head forward to look at you working yourself against him. You were soaking your underwear with your wetness, and Bradley ran his hands along your hips, guiding you a little slower. He wanted to make this last. "Easy," he growled, but that seemed to push you over some sort of edge.
Your lips crashed against his, and both of your hands were all over his hair. You were grinding up and down his length, wiggling your clit against his balls each time you reached them.
"Fuck, Sugar," he said, practically panting. When you pulled away from his mouth, you looked as far gone as he felt. 
Bradley watched you yank your underwear to one side and slide down around him, and once again, fucking you without a condom had to be one of the best things he had ever felt.
Then he shook his head and said, "Sugar, is this a good idea?" But he had his hands wrapped around your hips, fingers digging into your ass as you rode him. 
"Mmhmm. My period is due today or tomorrow," you whispered against his scarred cheek. "Just tell me when you're going to cum, Beer Boy." Your voice was soft and breathless, and your pussy was fucking tight. And Bradley wanted to live in this study room with you for the rest of his life.
Your lips and hands were everywhere as you rolled your hips and moaned his name. And when Bradley was tracing the column of your neck with his tongue, he knew he was close. 
"Sugar. I'm going to cum." You kept riding him, kept rolling your perfect hips, and he was too close now. "Sugar!"
You withdrew him just in time, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You wrapped your lips around him, pumped one time with your hand, and he was cumming hard in your mouth. 
Bradley watched you sputter for a second before you swallowed all of him down. He was still thrusting a bit in your hand as you kissed his tip and licked him clean.
The words were on the tip of his tongue now, but he knew this wasn't the right time to say them. He just hauled you up onto his lap and said, "I love this study room," instead.
-------------------------
After you and Bradley managed to pull your clothing back on, he removed the chair from underneath the doorknob, and you curled up on his lap just like you'd been doing for months. 
"I'm going to miss this," you whispered so softly, you weren't sure he would even be able to hear you. 
"Me too," he told you with his chest pressed against yours, and you didn't know how to tell him that you had agreed to move into your dormitory in Chicago early. You had already started packing up your clothing, boxes stacked up in your closet. You'd be leaving Virginia the day after graduation, a full two weeks before Bradley. But leaving early was better than the alternative: staying without him from late May until your term started in August. 
Right now, you just wanted as much time with him now as you could possibly get. Getting your PhD had been your dream before you met Bradley, but that didn't make this any easier. 
"Sugar?" he asked, face buried against your shoulder. 
"Hmm?"
"How am I supposed to go months with you?" 
Your heart clenched at his words. "I'm not sure. I'm trying not to think about it."
He rubbed your back, soothing you so well, you could have fallen asleep if it didn't feel like your heart was about to break. 
"You know," he started, pausing for a few beats before continuing. "I thought I would be a lot more excited about leaving for flight school. But all I can think about is how much I'll miss you."
You nodded against him, trying to block out his words. This was his dream. It had been his dream his entire life! You felt like a roadblock. Bradley should have been allowed to feel excited for this opportunity, because he earned it. You thought he was smart and sweet, even if he would never agree with you. And now he was going to live his dream.
"Wish I was going to Chicago with you."
---------------------
Finals were over. Bradley ended up with such a high GPA, even he was shocked. But you weren't, apparently. You just told him you knew he had it in him.
He had started to pack up his stuff. He needed to sell or donate most of it, because he would barely need any of it. When he took his favorite tie dyed shirt out of his dresser, he smiled. He'd be sending you to Chicago with that one. He associated it with you now anyway. And he figured he'd get a lot of selfies of you wearing it around. 
For some reason your differential equations notebook always seemed to be on his desk. He figured you might want to take that one with you, so he set it aside as well. 
There was a soft knock on his door, and then you were opening it and rushing toward him for a hug. "Hi, Beer Boy," you said while you kissed him. But when Bradley got a good look at your face, he saw that it looked like you had been crying. 
"What's wrong, Sugar?" he asked, gently tipping your chin up when you tried to hide your face from him.
"Nothing."
"Seriously? You're crying. Tell me what's wrong." He took both of your hands and guided you to sit on his bed with him. "We graduate in a few days, and then we have two weeks together before I leave for Rhode Island. That's like two spring breaks!"
You laughed a little bit through your tears before your frown returned. "I have to tell you something."
"So tell me," he whispered, placing a kiss to your lips. 
You sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I'm leaving early. For Chicago. I'm leaving the day after graduation."
Bradley's jaw dropped open, and he stared at you. "Why?" he finally asked. Why, Sugar?"
You wrapped your arms around his neck and sniffed. "I can't wait around here until August without you. I can't. So when they invited me to go early, I told them I would."
He just nodded against you and said, "Okay. Okay." But it wasn't okay! Now he only had a few days with you! He wouldn't be able to do all of the things he wanted to do before you left. But he kind of did get it, because he would be miserable waiting here all summer without you. "I understand."
You seemed to sigh in relief as you hugged him, and soon Bradley was tugging off your clothing and pulling his tie dyed shirt over your head, kissing your tattoo in the process. "Let's snuggle?" he suggested, and you held him all night.
-----------------------
Maybe it made you petty, but perhaps the best part of your graduation ceremony was ending with a higher GPA than Jeff. You got to walk across the stage right before him, and it was announced that you had top marks for your major. 
You kind of wanted to turn around and give him the finger from the end of the stage, but you were too distracted. You had already watched Bradley walk across the stage in his cap and gown, and now you were looking for him in the crowd.
When you spotted him, you ran up to his row, squeezing in between him and Tyson. 
"I'm proud of you," Bradley whispered, lacing his fingers with yours. "And I'm so happy you're smarter than Jeff, because you can tell that it really irritates him."
You stifled a laugh as some students were still walking across the stage and accepting their diplomas. You looked up at Bradley, and it felt like it always did now. Like someone was trying to suffocate you. The same sadness was reflected in his eyes. 
You were flying to Chicago tomorrow. This was it. Your big day was here, and you were going off to actually have a chance to live out the plans you had made. But none of it felt right. 
"Will you come over tonight?" Bradley asked you softly. "One last night, Sugar? It'll be awhile before I get to hold you again."
You just nodded and did your best to hold back your tears. "I'll be there."
-------------------------
It was late when Bradley guided you into the Beta house with his arm draped around your waist. He was ready to take you upstairs and spend the night showing you how much he was going to miss you. But you stopped Bradley with your hand on his chest when you reached the kitchen door. "One more time, Beer Boy?" you asked with a smile. 
He led you inside and told you, "Go ahead, Sugar. Grab two of the good beers." You got two of the beers that you and he drank together the night you met, and he opened them. You and he took a few sips together in silence. 
"Hey, I thought you told me that nothing in here is off limits to me," you murmured. 
"That's right. Girlfriends are allowed whatever they want."
"You're in here, and I want you," you whispered, biting your lip. 
Bradley laughed and downed half of his beer. "You've had me since the moment I saw you. Maybe it took me a little while to get it together so I could have you, but I was yours."
You were in his arms so fast, Bradley almost dropped his beer bottle. 
"Don't say things like that," you begged him as you kissed his cheek and chin.
"Like what?" he asked you softly as he carried you toward the stairs. 
You sighed and your voice was breathy. "Things that make sense." 
Bradley set you down gently on his bed and you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down until his lips were on yours. You were working your mouth softly, slowly against his. But he could still tell how much you needed him. 
The brush of your eyelashes against his cheek, and the feel of your fingers in his hair were making him go crazy for you. Just like he always did.
You eased yourself up onto your elbows, and Bradley carefully removed your shirt and bra. His mouth found your tattoo and tasted it immediately. The undersides of your soft breasts felt like heaven on his tongue. He was trying to memorize every sound you were making and everything he was feeling for you. 
"Bradley," you moaned, lifting your hips so he could remove your shorts and underwear. And now he was the one taking his time, kissing your legs as he went. 
"I'll miss you," he said, licking all the way up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit. "I'll be thinking about this. A lot."
You were moaning his name, legs spread wide for him while he ate your pussy. When you started reaching for his jeans, Bradley eased his body over yours. 
"Tell me what you want, Sugar."
"I just want you." 
Bradley kissed you for a long time before he stood to take his clothes off. You watched him tonight just like you did the first night you spent with him. And as soon as he was rolling a condom on, you were reaching for his hand, pulling him back to you. 
As Bradley pushed himself inside you, he knew that as good as he felt in this moment, he was going to feel just as bad after tomorrow. So he listened to every sigh and moan you made. He let his hands explore your whole body. He fucked you like he needed to. He went slow. 
"You want to take your time," you gasped, caressing his necks and cheeks as he eased himself deep inside you.
"Make this last," he confirmed. And he didn't stop until you came, crying out while your body squeezed him as a few tears slid down your cheeks.
"You're so sweet, Sugar," he whispered against your skin. "I don't want to leave you. I'd rather go with you."
"Bradley," you whispered, keeping your arms around him for a long time. 
When he was finally soft inside you, and you started to move like you wanted to get up, Bradley grabbed his tee shirt and helped you put it on. "Will you take that to Chicago with you? It belongs with you."
"I'll wear it all the time," you promised.
Bradley watched you wipe your tears away, and you both got ready to try to sleep. Wordlessly, you pulled him against you in bed, your lips and breath on his neck as he held you. Bradley rubbed your back until he thought your breathing had evened out in sleep. 
"You don't know how easy it is to love you."
He sang softly to you, and you pulled him impossibly closer as he fell asleep.
------------------------
Bradley woke to his alarm going off. You needed time to get your things and head to the airport, and he wanted to make sure he had time to help you.
"Beer Boy," you murmured, your voice sleepy as you looked at him. 
Bradley pushed your hair out of your face and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. "You're beautiful."
You sucked in a shaky breath and he kissed you. But now you were holding back, and it was killing him. He ran his nose along yours and let his hands drift down over your body. You were grabbing at his back as he kissed along your neck, and you finally whispered, "One last time."
"One last time," he agreed with a soft smile. This was going to have to hold him over. 
You were more frantic now as you guided your body up and down his length. He wanted to look at you, but you were holding him so tight it was hard to even kiss you. 
"Sugar, take it easy. Slow down, smart girl."
"No," you muttered, and he could hear the tears in your voice. "I can't."
So Bradley held you and made love to you the way you needed it. And it still felt heavenly when you both came.
You tried to get up, but Bradley pulled you down against him with a kiss. He hopped up quickly to take care of the condom, and then he was back in bed next to you. 
Your gaze was distant as he pulled you close. "Sugar, I don't have any money yet, but when I get my first big Navy paycheck, I'll fly out to Chicago for the weekend. We don't have to wait until the September, okay? You can take me to the bean."
But you were sitting up now and shaking your head. "No."
Bradley sat up too, and pushed your hair back from your face.
"No?"
You started sobbing. "No. You can't come see me in Chicago."
"Why not?" he asked, but his throat was tight with the words. Then he recognized everything for what it was. "Sugar. That was goodbye sex. Wasn't it?"
You nodded your head a few times, your eyes pleading with his. And now he felt tears in his as well.
"We need to break up," you said, your voice catching on the words. "I can't hold you back."
Bradley's arms were around you in an instant. "No, Sugar. Don't do this. You'll go to Chicago, and I'll go to Rhode Island, but it's just temporary!"
"Bradley," you pleaded, pulling away so he could see your face again.
"You don't trust me." He had really hoped he was never going to have to say those words to you. Not now.
But you shook your head right away and took his face in your hands. "That's not it, Bradley! I trust you. You've been the best boyfriend I've ever had. But you worked too hard for this, and you need to focus on flight training. Missing me and thinking about me isn't going to help you. This is your dream."
"Why can't I have two dreams?" he asked softly. Your eyes drifted closed, and he could see the tears leaking down your cheeks now. 
"I'm so proud of you. You're going to be amazing," you told him. 
"Please."
But you just kept shaking your head as you got to your feet and pulled on your shorts and shoes. 
Bradley was sitting on the edge of his bed, with his face in his hands. He only looked up when you said his name so softly, he thought he had imagined it. You had your phone in one hand and you were wearing his shirt, and he didn't think he would ever be the same again after this.
You bent down and brushed your lips softly against his. "I love you, Beer Boy."
And then you turned and ran your fingers along his door, glancing back at him one time before you left.
"Sugar."
--------------------
Bradley spent the next two weeks in a state of numbness. His fingers no longer seemed to be able to type out text messages to you; he had sent so many and received none in return. His voice didn't work right anymore, which was fine, because you weren't answering his calls either. You had most certainly blocked his number. 
He knew why you did it. He understood. He would never blame you for it. But that didn't mean that he had to agree with it. The only thing Bradley wanted at the moment was you, and he didn't think that feeling was going to change for a very long time.
When he was cleaning out his room for the last time, he stood in front of his bedroom door. You made him a better person. You made him work for what he wanted. You made him fall in love with you. 
But you wouldn't even let him tell you that. 
Bradley took a photo of his door, and promised himself he would use it as a reminder that he was different and better than he used to be. Then he uncapped the black marker in his hand. He slowly scribbled out your phone number and let himself feel everything. 
But he left the rest for the next guy to deal with. 
SUGAR
what's your number?
-------------------------
THE END.
Beer Boy and Sugar seem to have some unfinished business.... please stay tuned for Right Girl, Wrong Time!!!!
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