#at least i do a decent job i guess sigh

[energysoda]

tbh cutting my own hair very quickly went from being an empowering thing to being an obsessive compulsion that has taken over my life and sanity

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Like You Mean It | H.S

summary: you're tired of only ever meeting trash men, but your best friend and roommate harry shows you that there are still good guys out there, and what it really means to be a giver.

word count: 5.3k

reading time: 22 min

content warning ⚠️: housemate/bff!harry au, nonfamous!harry, friends to lovers, shitty men (not harry), smut, fluff, fingering, penetration (p in v), very light D/s dynamics (if you squint), softdom!harry, dirty talk, nicknames (baby, babe), very light degradation/humiliation kink (if you squint)

a/n:  i saw a text post that said “girl don’t text that man. make yourself cum and forget about him.”(solid advice lol)�� and then this happened. also not to be an astrology girlie but he’s an aquarius with libra placements….this man is the perfect fwb.

“Harry, can I get a man's perspective on something?” you ask, turning to Harry next to you on the couch. You had begged Harry out of his room for a movie night as a ruse, but your nose had been buried deep in your phone the whole night. Re-reading and overanalyzing old text messages between you and the object of your anxiety.

You don’t often go to Harry for help with men, but his advice on other areas of your life is always sound, and you respect his opinion.

“If you’re asking me for help, he’s not worth your time.” He sighs, not looking away from the movie, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

“I’m serious, I need your help.” you whine, tugging on his sleeve. He turns and looks at your dramatic pout, “Please.” 

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He huffs. “What is it?” 

“As a man, do you prefer texting or like a call? Or maybe FaceTime?”  

Harry barks out a laugh at the ridiculous question, before looking over at you, and realizing your dead serious. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, tossing his head back against the couch. “I mean I’m more of a talker, and I like seeing who I’m talking to, so I prefer FaceTime. But I guess it depends on the girl and how long I’ve been talking to them. What our situation is, and stuff.  Which one of your boy toys are we talking about?” he asks. 

“Cameron.” you grimace.

Cameron is admittedly your least favorite of the boys on your roster, but your most tenured member. And the one Harry hates most. In the beginning you thought it could be something real. He was sweet and did a decent job at wooing you. That is until - in Harry’s eyes - he coerced you into a friends with benefits arrangement. Harry could tell that you liked him, and to see him treat you as terribly as he did, got Harry’s blood boiling. You deserved better, that much you both could understand. What Harry couldn't understand however was why you would even consider speaking to him again after the last time you were in contact.  

Instead of saying what he truly thought, or giving you a hard time, he just pinched the space between his brow with an exasperated sigh. 

“I know, I know,” you grumble.

“How long has it been since you’ve heard from him?” 

“A while. But he reached out recently and - ” 

“I thought you were done with him.” he deadpans, eyes glued to yours. 

“I was, but we got coffee last week and he apologized.” 

“Coffee?” Harry groans in disgust at the low effort. He pauses the movie, and turns to you, “Don’t text him. Don’t call him. Go back in there,” he says pointing down the hallway towards your room. “Make yourself come, and forget about him. For your sake and mine.” 

“Harry!” you laugh, hitting him with a throw pillow.  

“You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.” he concedes with a chuckle, “You don’t even like him.” 

“I like him enough.” 

“He’s a terrible fuck.” 

“He…gets the job done.” you defend voice cracking. 

“Everytime he leaves, there's suddenly a consistent buzz coming from your bedroom.” He scoffs. You go to defend yourself with heat rising to your face. You stammer a bit but not quite getting words out before he continues, “I’m a grown man, I know what a vibrator sounds like.” He smirks, and you giggle covering your face. 

“Jesus.” you laugh, “Look, I’ve tried your way already…and it’s not doing the trick.” you pout, “So tell me, how pathetic would I be  if I were to reach out to him.”

“I don’t think you’d be pathetic, love.” he soothes 

“Then why are you so against me texting him?”  

Because you deserve better! Why can’t you see that? He thinks, These guys don’t deserve you. If I were them I’d - 

“Harry?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. It’s in the glow of the television, and the small light on the side table that Harry is able to admire your adorable pout and curious eyes. He’s always had a little crush on you throughout the entirety of your friendship. One he knew you could feel and was reciprocated. There were a few drunken confessions of your attraction for one another that were joked about the following morning. Then there was the holiday kiss . One New Year for ‘good luck’. But there was also a promise. A pinky promise, to never risk the friendship you had. To keep things platonic.  It was a promise that was becoming more and more difficult for both of you to keep. 

When you two agreed to move in under the same roof for economic reasons, you knew it would be an adjustment, with both of you having been living on your own for years. But you were excited. Living alone could get lonely and overwhelming. So having your best friend of years, under the same roof and splitting responsibilities felt like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders. 

But being in such close proximity meant that it was becoming harder to keep your promise. Especially when things just felt so domestic with the two of you. Cooking dinner together, movie nights, cuddling together on the couch. It was hard for both of you not to let your minds wander to a reality where you were more than just friends. 

But you were friends, and as long as that boundary was there, there was nothing stopping either of you from being young, wild and free. So there were parties, and one night stands, and situationships. All in an attempt to distract you both from the truth. Because no matter how pretty the girls were that Harry brought home, no matter how sweet and kind they were. The only face he saw when they were splayed out in his bed…was your. 

And after a very awkward Sunday morning breakfast with one of your one night stands meeting Harry, you stopped bringing guys home all together. Opting for spending weekends away. A change Harry didn’t like, and lectured you over. “It’s not safe. You don’t know these guys. At least if you bring them here, I’m here if you need me.” he’d argued. All that did was keep you from seeing anyone for a while.  Which is how you ended up even considering talking to Camreon again. 

“Look” Harry finally says, turning his body towards you, “if you’re that sexually frustrated I’ll… help you out.” 

You tilt your head, letting out a nervous giggle, waiting for his real response. But it never comes, he just…smirks at you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, heart beating against your ribs. “You’re serious.” Harry nods, biting his lip. The offer was…promising, and the way Harry looked at you was intriguing. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies.  That the last month or so things haven’t  felt different between you two, something less than romantic, but certainly more than platonic. It was messing with your head for sure. But you were friends. Regardless of how fit you thought he was, you didn’t have the right to blow up your over decade long friendship just because you were horny. You clear your throat blinking up at him, shaking your head,“Thanks for the offer, Har but -” 

“Yeah no…you’re right. It’s - dumb idea.” He stammers, “I do think you just need to let off some steam, and then you’ll forget about him.” 

“Yeah. I guess.” 

He sees you deflate a bit at his words, and he realizes you didn’t expect  him to give up so easily. So he tries again a little more directly “And not to be that guy but I’ve been told I’m pretty talented, and if making you come keeps you from making a repeated mistake then I’ll take one for the team.” 

“Gee, thanks.” you scoff. 

“I just mean. You’re my friend, and I’m trying to be a helping hand.” he says sweetly before the smirk returns, “And tongue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes. “And on a serious note, you’re too special of a woman to have to deal with mediocre sex from a guy that clearly - and I’m sorry to say - couldn’t give two shits about your Love. If you need to…get your rocks off, why not with someone you trust? With someone that actually cares about you?” Harry says sweetly. 

“Really?” you ask, and he nods, “And if we cross this line, it won't ruin our friendship.” 

“Cross my heart.” He says drawing an ‘x’ over his chest. 

“What about Taylor?” you ask, thinking of the pretty blonde that you’ve caught making breakfast in your kitchen a few times. You're trying to give him an out. But he doesn’t take it. 

“Out of the picture.” he smiles, “Has been for a while.” He admits, and before you get a chance to offer your condolences, he asks “So what do you say?”  

“Okay.” 

“Alright.” he smirks, “Come here.” He says softly, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You scoot closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thigh.  Your breath hitches in your throat as his other hand rests on your cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

He leans in slowly, his breath fanning across your face, his lips inches away from yours. His emerald eyes dart from yours down to your lips, back to your eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. You nod your head slowly, eyes glued to his lips as he speaks. You watch as they curve up into a seductive smirk, “Words, baby. Want to hear you say it.” He coaches. 

He wants to hear you say it because the truth is, he can’t believe this is finally happening. He gets why you both agreed to not cross this boundary for so long. For the sake of your amazing friendship. But being this close to you now, seeing the look in your eye, the want and anticipation. Feeling the way he lit up touching you. It all seemed so silly. Why deny yourselves the pleasure of giving in to such chemistry, when life was so short? 

“I’m sure.” you whisper, “Are you?” 

“Oh, I’m positive.” he purrs, before leaning forward finally bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Immediately, the kiss feels different than anything you’ve shared in the past. What starts off as a soft sweet pecks, familiarizes yourselves with one another, quickly evolves into a hurried frenzy. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking, and with Harry’s hand having come down to rest on your neck, thumb caressing your jugular possessively your head was spinning. You gasp  into the kiss, trying to catch your breath but all you could do was breathe in more of Harry. It’s when he nipped at your bottom lip licking at the skin after, that you have a moment of clarity. Pulling away slowly you, run your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck making him look up at you. 

“You okay?” he asks, worry etched into his features. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you begin, “ I have one condition.” 

“Okay.” he prompts 

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper, voice shakily. 

“Planned on it, Love.” He smiles, bringing you back into the kiss, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. You drape your arms around his shoulders and lean forward bringing your lips back down to his. Any nerves you’d had earlier slip away with each swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and grind off your hips down onto his hardening cock. He moans into your mouth as you grind your hips into his, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. 

He sounds so pretty, you thought. 

He lets out another groan, as his hands roam up your thighs to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you as close to him as he could. He pulls his lips away from yours in favor of kissing down your neck. His lips roam up and down trying to find your favorite spot, and when he does, you let out a lewd moan, pulling at his hair. He groans into your neck and continues sucking and nibbling. He licks a stirp up your neck, dragging your earlobe into his ear sucking at it. Before he pulls away looking at you with a proud grin on his face, watching you. 

“Why’d you stop?” you pout, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I’m not fucking you on the couch.” He chuckles and you giggle. “Your bedroom or mine?” he asks as he untucks your lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Wherever you’d feel most comfortable.” 

You didn’t have to think for more than a moment before answering. “Is it okay if we go to yours?” you ask nervously. If you were going to get the Harry Styles special, you wanted the whole experience. 

“Of course.” he smiles, giving you a quick peck, “Hold onto me.” he instructs and you hook your arms and legs around him as he stands up and makes his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. He leans in and kisses your cheek 

It is a little strange, how natural it all feels. How your lips seemed to slot perfectly with his, how he grabs your ass so dominantly in his hands, how you instinctually nuzzle into his neck, sucking just below his ear like he did for you. It’s as if  this whole thing, your dynamic, was sitting there all along, just waiting to come to the surface. 

He kicks his bedroom door open, kicking it back closed once inside. Breathy swears falling from his lips as you suck on a spot just below his ear. He sets you down on your feet as you pull away from his neck, bringing your lips back to his. Your hands move from around his shoulders to the elastic of his sweats. You pull at the strings keeping the material around his hips. But Harry stops you, pulling away from the kiss, holding your wrists in his hands.

“Hey, hey.” he coos, tilting your head up to look at him. “This is about you. Remember?” 

“Right.” you sigh, “Sorry.” It was a force of habit. Focusing on pleasing your partner, without much thought of your own pleasure. 

“It’s okay.” he smiles softly, “Don’t worry about me. Just let me take care of you.” He lifts your hands to his lips kissing each of the back of your hands,  “Okay?” you nod and he places a quick peck to your lips,  “Get up on the bed, for me.” There was something in his voice, a tone you’ve never heard before nor could you pin down, but it already had your stomach doing somersaults. 

You crawl your way up the bed, laying down amongst the mountain of pillows and it suddenly hits you what you’ve agreed to. Did you have some nerves about the possibility of ruining your longtime friendship? Of course. But the primary feeling was anticipation. You’ve heard Harry take many women to heaven in this very room, in this very bed through the thin walls of your apartment, dozens of times.  And now as you lay in his sheets… It's your turn.

He watches from the foot of the bed as you settle into his bed, admiring the sight of you there. You're quick to remove your shirt, but you keep your bottoms and bra on. You watch as he strips himself of his band t-shirt, and sweats admiring his tattooed littered chest and arms. Your eyes follow the trail of hair from his navel to the growing tent in his boxer briefs. He notices you admiring, watching as his muscles contract as he moves up the bed to you, a smirk plastered to his lip. 

“Eyes up here.” he jokes, and you snort out a chuckle, as he hovers above you with elbows on either side of your head. You bring your arms, sound his shoulders, pulling him down on you, enjoying the weight of him on top of you. 

“Shut up.” you smile, kissing him. You try to lead the kiss, but eventually give in to Harry, allowing him to choose the pace, too distracted and consumed by the feelings of his hands roaming your body. As he teases your mouth open with his tongue, you nibble at his bottom lip wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. You both moan as the tip of his clothed cock catches onto your clothed pussy. Your pussy throbs at the sensation and you roll your hips up into his, begging for some friction. But Harry holds your hip in the softness of his mattress.  He pulls away, caressing your cheek, running a thumb along your kiss bitten lips. 

“Let me take my time. Want you to enjoy this. I’m going to give you what you need. I promise.” 

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, “Okay.” you sigh

“Just relax.” he leans down, kissing your lips, “Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah - of course.” 

“Good.” Harry smiles, his dimpled smile, before continuing your kiss, hungrily kissing your lips, down to your neck. Kissing and sucking trying to find your most sensitive spot. When he does,  he nibbles and sucks, groaning into you as he feels you relax in his arms, with each swipe of his tongue on your neck. His hand reaches behind you, fiddling with the hooks of your bra. “Can I take this off?” he rasps. 

“Mhmm, yeah.” you rush out, helping him shimmy your arms out of the annoying barrier.  Before you get the chance to pull him back down to you chest to chest, Harry pauses, looking from your chest to your eyes.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous” he whispers, a hand cupping one of your breasts, pinching the pebbled skin of your nipple. He dips his head down, drawing the other nipple into his mouth sucking on the nub, before releasing it with a pop. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped your lips. It’s needy and breathy and if it were anyone else above you,  you’d maybe be embarrassed with just how desperate you sound. But the way Harry is worshiping you, and moaning into your chest, you knew he was enjoying this just as much.

He works his way up from your breasts back to your neck, sucking and kissing anywhere his lips could reach. You wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him in, for a deep kiss, until you feel his fingers tangle into the loose strings of your flimsy lounge shorts. 

“What about these?” he asks against your lips. “Can I take ‘em off?” 

“Please.” you gasp into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss the best you could, you lift your hips, as you help him get the shorts down your legs. 

With nothing but the thin material of your underwear between you.  You could really get a feel of Harry now as he grinded his hips into yours. He was thick, and just as hard as you were wet. After a few nudges of his cock against your pussy, Harry snakes a hand between the two of you, rubbing you through the thin cotton of your panties in small circles. 

“Mmhm.” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand. 

“This okay?” he huffs, leaning his forehead on yours. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling him back down to your face for a kiss. “More.” 

Harry smirked at you teasingly, but obliged. Sliding your panties to the side, his thick warm fingers making contact with your clit. 

“Oh, fuck.” you huff. 

Harry usually likes to tease. He tells the girls in his bed to be patient, to be good girls and wait for the inevitable earth shattering pleasure he’s sure to spring on them. But you're not just some girl in his bed. You’re…you. And he’s never not given you whatever it is you wanted. Because as far as Harry is concerned, you deserve the world. And the truth is, even if you didn’t realize it, you have him wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger. 

“That feel okay?” Harry asks, rubbing you in tight circles. He dips his fingers further down your folds, collecting  the wetness at your entrance to wet your clit. He rubs at your pussy,  up and down, until you start bucking against his hand. 

“Mmhm” you nod, “so good.” you whimper. 

It’s beginning to become harder to focus. All you feel is Harry. His fingers, between your legs. His tongue massages yours. His breath fanning across your face, when he rests his forehead on yours. His hardening cock pressing into your thigh.  His weight on top of you. He was completely consuming your senses. 

His fingers dip down, teasing at your entrance drawing out a deep groan from you as your grip on his shoulders tighten. 

“What’s got you so wet? Huh?” he smirks into the kiss, as he teases your entrance. Your cheeks warm to his teasing tone.

“You.” you whine, “Feels so good, Harry.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, “And this?” He coos, as he slowly, finally, slides a long finger inside. “This feel good, too?” 

“Oh, god.” you whimper, arching your back into the mattress, gripping at his shoulders.

Harry kisses your check, pulling back admiring how sweet you looked as his finger worked you open, pumping in and out of you. 

“Look at me.” he coos, curling his finger inside to that spongy spot inside of you. “Let me see you baby. Look at me.” He repeats, sweetly kissing your cheek. Slowly, and with all the focus you can muster, you peel your eyes open to look at Harry. “Good girl,” Harry praises, “you’re doing so good, Love.” Your breath hitches at his words as you feel your pussy tighten around his fingers.  “You gonna come on my hand? Already?” He smirks. 

His light teasing, mixed with the pet names, only has you barling closer to the edge. You're so, very close and the way you're looking up at Harry all blissed out has him ready to bust in his boxers. 

“Har-” 

He can sense the frustration. See how close you were, but not quite. He needed to see you come for him. 

“What is it baby?” he coos, kissing your cheek. 

“More. Harry,” you whine, “Please, please plea-” you whine, through a pout.

“Shhh….Okay. You can have,” Harry slowly inserts a second finger, while his thumb circled your clit, “anything you want.” 

“Fuc-” Your moan gets cut off with a kiss, as Harry continues to work his fingers in and out of you.

“There you go. Better?” 

“Ye- yes. Oh my god.” you whine. 

Harry continues working his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit as you could feel your orgasm barrelling closer. 

“Come on,” Harry encourages, “come on my hand. Come for me.” he pants, through a kiss, fingers curling, maintaining their pace inside of you. 

“Shit!” you moan out, coming apart on his hand. 

“There you go. Good girl.” he praises, kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. You whimper, a shiver shooting through your body as your orgasm shook through you.  “Shhh, I got you. I got you.” he coos, slowing his fingers to a stop.   He withdraws his fingers from your center, eyes remaining on yours as he sucked his fingers clean, moaning around the digits. 

“You taste good.” he smirks, before leaning down, burying himself in your neck, sucking on the spot just below your ear. He pulls away, looking you in the eye admiring your fucked out state. He plants a kiss on each of your cheeks, and then kisses you deeply nipping at your lip. 

“You did so good.” Harry huffs into your mouth. You rake your fingers through his hair, still reeling from your orgasm, trying to use Harry to bring yourself back down to earth. “You’re pretty when you come.” he smiles down at you, kissing your lips, “Do you need a minute?” 

“No.” you mumble kissing his lips, “Just fuck me please.” Harry nods into the kiss, reaching into his nightstand for a condom. He’s quick to get rid of his bottoms and slip on the condom. 

“Harry.” you plead, rolling your hips up into his, as he slid his cock up and down your slit. He taps the head of his cock on your clit twice.

“Shhh, relax. I got you.” He coos stroking your cheek with one hand as he runs his cock more deliberately up and down your slit with the other. Harry kisses the corners of your mouth, and then places a kiss to your lips. He looks at you, eyes aflame with lust. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face, as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp, grab his shoulders, dig your nails into his skin. Harry hisses, tucking his face into your neck as he slowly worked you open with his cock, little by little thrusting in and out until he was fully settled inside. 

“Fuck, babe.” he sighs. He stays still for a moment, deep inside of you relishing in the feeling of your tight  walls wrapped around him. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp as swears fall from Harry’s lips above you. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, drawing out more groans from him. “Move.” you whine, rutting your hips up into his. “Please, Harry.” 

He slowly begins to grind his hips down into yours, pulling back only slightly before driving back in, allowing you to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.” He praises. He’s quick to find a decent pace, his arms bracketing your head, forehead leaned against yours as he pounded into you with deep strokes. 

“Har- oh my god.” you moan, your pants of pleasure, fanning across Harry’s face, eyes screwed shut. 

“Look at me.” he rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Please. Need to see you.” He moans. And he does. He needs it. You can hear it in his voice, and feel it in the way he caresses your hip. He must be closer to you. He needed to see you, all of you. 

So you grant his wish, peeling your eyes open and looking at him. And your pussy clenches at the sight of him. You don’t remember why you’d close your eyes in the first place. He was beautiful, like this. All kiss bitten lips, and flushed cheeks, curls glued to his brow and lust filled eyes. You threaded your fingers in his curls, brushing his curls away from his eyes. 

“You feel so good.” you gasp. 

Harry smirks, twirling his hips, “So do you.” You pull at his curls, a loud moan rips from your throat,  as a particularly hard thrusts hits your g-spot. Harry’s eyes flash with a new kind of focus, and lust as he hits it again. 

“‘S that it? ‘S that your spot, babe?” he huffs. You nod frantically, eyes glued to his lust filled ones as he continued pumping into you. “I want you to come for me again. I want to feel you. Please,” he pleads, “Need it.”  

“Oh god!” you cry out. The more he talked the closer you could feel yourself approaching your peak. “Harry -” you 

“Breathe through it, Love.” He instructs, keeping his rhythmic pace. As he grinds his hips down into yours, he demonstrates a breath, taking a deep breath in and out. You follow suit, feeling the heat pool in the bit of your stomach warm, as your orgasm grows closer and closer. 

“Harry - oh my god.” “I know, I know.” He gasps, “Let go, Baby.” And you do. Just like that, you coming around Harry’s cock, tightening around him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “There you go,” he coos, dropping a kiss to your forehead, before tucking himself back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “Good girl. Fuck baby.” 

Harry’s thrusts become sloppy as he struggles to hold himself up above you, feeling his own climax quickly approaching. “I’m gonna come baby.” Harry pants. 

“Please.” you whimper, holding his face in his hands. You bring your lips up to his, moaning into the kiss, “I want you to.” 

“Fuck.” He huffs, and with a few more deep strokes, Harry comes apart above you. 

He grinds his hips to a stop, burying himself into your neck, kissing your shoulder, as you run your nails up and down his back, trying to catch your breath. 

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the weight of him on top of you, and Harry enjoying your hand in his hair. Once he heard your breath slow, he slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead, and rolling off of you.

“I’ll be right back.” he smiles.

“Okay.” you whisper with a sweet smile.   

Harry drags his boxer briefs up his legs, looking back at you with a smile before he’s out the door. 

“Shit.” you giggle, looking up at the ceiling. You look over at the clock on his nightstand, and smirk.  Nearly an hour and a half  has passed. I really got the Harry Experience ™ you muse, to yourself. 

Sitting up in bed, you scan the messy bedroom floor to find your clothes. Before you get a chase to put your bra back on, Harry is back with bottles of water, some snacks and a towel. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks,  He sets down the two bottles of water, snacks on his nightstand.

“Getting dressed.” 

“What for?” he pouts, crawling into his bed, lifting his sheets for you to follow,  “Come back here.” you allow him to pull you back into his side, resting your head on his chest.  

“I don’t want to overextend my stay.” you whisper 

“You’re not.  Let me hold you for a bit. Not done taking care of you.”  

He kisses the crown of your head, and it feels almost too intimate, but still you relax in his arms, letting out a deep breath, allowing the gentle motion of his hand stroking your back to calm you. 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Promise me that we’ll still be friends.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. A little too long for your liking before he finally speaks. 

“I don’t think I can do that.” Harry says, and there's a slight panic at his words until you look up at him and see he’s smirking down at you. 

“I got you pussy whipped that quick, Styles?” you joke, poking at his side, and he laughs. 

“Maybe.” he smirks, before looking at you earnestly, “Or maybe hearing you moan my name made me realize it’s something I've wanted for a long time.” 

“Oh.” you sigh. 

“Or maybe I’m just selfish, and I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing you that way. Especially if they aren’t going to treat you right.” 

“And you want to treat me right?” you smile

“I do.” He says firmly, “Give me a chance. Just one date. A real one. Ideally one where we stay clothed, and vertical.” he smirks.  “And if you don’t want to pursue anything, then…I’m happy to stay friends. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try.” 

You look at him, trying to find a hint of dishonesty, but you couldn’t find it. 

“Okay, Styles. One date.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” you smile, snuggling back into his chest. 

Everything between you two has changed. That’s for sure. But maybe it’s for the better.  And maybe this is just the beginning. 

a/n: imagine harry as your fwb *deep sigh*

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[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! reader <3 pt. 2

Yuppp, this is the part two of my previous post <33 but this time she'll be meeting the rest of the batboys and kon! (reminder she has met some of them even from before!!)

if you get into the 'terry mcginnis' part and is confused on who he is, watch batman beyond bc hes the new batman and its sooo good and hes underrated <3

Anywho here it isss

BIG warning: this may more or less have the same amount of clownery as the last one so prepare my sweets and also my brain is fried so some parts might not make sense but i tried😔💔 please repost to support me i spent sm timee 😭

tim drake aka 'red robin':

Also one of your most biggest and creepiest faithful fans that you've ever had in your stream!

Hes a frequent donor AND victim to your relentless charms just like jason and dick.

Has met you before you decided to even become a cam girl, as you two both go to the same school AND classes too 🥰 (he may or may have not gotten bruce to manipulate the principal or some higher up into changing classes...)

he's like a lovesick highschool student who developed a crush, but this time more extreme.

While you on the otherhand, saw a weird looking boy staring at you with the most fullest smile you've ever seen. toothy, cheshire grin, and all-- (he ran away almost IMMEDIATELY when you saw him)

(...you also chased after him when he ran 💀 he was shooked, but stops once your hand grabs his shoulder and you ask him who he was)

"You >:D i saw you looking at me, who are you >:)"

...my, he never knew you were this bold... you really need to stop being so cute or your further fueling his delusions i swear--

You shake him. "Ow- okay-- my name's Tim--"

You then smile and drag a stunned but intrigued timothy with you.

...Are you perhaps some social butterfly, darling?...

From that moment on, tim's interest in you increases and a friendship between you and him bloomed! Hes so proud of himself for making the first move even though you did it first...

(Again, dont ask how darling lives in bludhaven, but meets tim and jason whose in gotham 💀 either think of her as having teleportation powers being the reason for the frequent back-and-forths or tim being so obssessed, he moves in bludhaven just to see reader--)

When i said creepy, i said c r e e p y. Even worse than klarion, thaddeus, and even dick who i said before was on another level 😦

Tim is both sweet, nervous, and shy... or at least, is how he shows himself for you.

he must look decent for you or how else would he make you reciprocate his feelings?

He's capable of changing in a blink of an eye so anybody who isn't his beloved, dont test him, okay? <3

He sits in the back with darling in class. In the back. You heard me.

Normally he'd be in the front to be able to see and listen better, but darling is a slacker so--

He sighs, looking at his rushed and poorly written notes. He doesnt even know what the topic is anymore, and it kinda looks like hieroglyphics--

Meanwhile, you on the otherhand, was cooking instant noodles with the others... with a pot AND a stove... D: (he loves you but damn he wants to cry rlly bad on how screwed you two are--)

As for the part where he finds out about your part-time job as a cam girl, this man was seething.

No honey, not at you, but at your parents-- how could they let their beautiful daughter do this?! Do they even care?!-- oh? What was that, darling?... Your parents were gone? i guess that explains it...

proceeds to feel bad for you, and wishes to look after you. But you being you, you remain so hardheaded. Why cant you let him love you?? why cant you quit that stupid job?! >:( (hes a bit hypocritical on this one since he literally donates thus further fueling you to go on)

Sigh... nevertheless, he realizes a bit that he can't persuade someone like you for now, so he donates in your live like the good friend he is...

Yeah, 'good friend'...

In the darkness of his room, he watches with unblinking eyes the way your body moves on his screen. You look so enticing, the way a bit of pink colors your cheeks, how every moan you give were light and breathy... simply fantastic. He sighs.

"Oh baby... what am i going to do with you?... <3"

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 38% for nuisance, 70% for humor (80% as red robin)

⋆˚✿˖°

conner kent aka 'superboy':

Ah yes, another top donor and one of your most perverted watchers out there.

Cocky, rebellious, womanizing... doll, you're just another girl for him to use in order to piss off tim since he loves pushing that man's patience so much.

Has probably met you through him too, as this man follows his best friend that has been, in his eyes, acting a bit too strange lately.

And he now knows why. You.

thinks you're absolutely adorable. the way you act out of impulse to the way you speak so brazenly to him, intrigues the kryptonian so much.

Hm, your going to be so much fun to play with <3

But unfortunately, the boy of steel did not know who he was up against.

"...Doll, what did you just say?--" it was 8 at night and he was in his best attire holding a bouquet of flowers. Not just your average red roses, but a well-thought out blend of daffodils, carnations, and tulips. just for you.

But right now, you're breaking his heart.

"Yeah Kon, i love you but no. i'm not dating you. Sorry."

...you don't have the right to say you love him.

"a-and why can't we date?--" he was so confused, these months spent trying to court you, all wasted.

"erm... im not interested, kon. yeah you're hot and you support me and all, but im gonna be honest with you... you're not my type. and plus..."

he feels his heart break even more when you continue.

"...I'm interested in someone. I've known them for so long Kon, and i would hurt them if i get with you."

...

"...sorry." you run away.

things with kon has never felt the same since. he no longer visits tim just to see you, only him. he ignores you too, not even a single glance being spared. but you swear you could feel cold blue eyes watching your figure sometimes...

...and then that happens. you see a message notification from him. conner.

'im sorry if i made things awkward between us. forgive me, doll? :('

your thumb hovered whether or not to answer. you made your decision.

'kay. wanna play dti? :3'

he's so glad you cant see him right now... crying pure tears of joy, and complete relief that you took the bait.

'okay :)'

just because he got rejected by you once that doesnt mean he's immediately gonna back down <33 and about that boy you like, who was it? can't you tell him and he'll give a quick visit to the very lucky guy...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 49% for nuisance, 80% for humor (95% as superboy)

ᯓᡣ𐭩

damian wayne aka 'robin':

...knows the guy that you like.

he's genuinely angry at you, but mostly at your taste.

seriously, him? why not him instead...

frequently donates money and is also very dedicated in line.

(to save you trouble, most of the batfam is a big fan to you and are often your biggest donors. they wish to stop you from pursuing such a... scandalous, line of work but cant help but further support you the more they give money and get addicted to the content you make 😞💔)

discovered you on accident when a certain someone, *cough* tim, *cough* left their computer on without closing the tabs.

you cannot simply imagine the sheer shock that painted his face during that time, seeing someone, you, getting it on with another guy that seems all too familiar.

...and he cant help but get angry. (you'll all understand soon enough why he and kon hates reader's man and possible bf sm 😭)

meeting you face to face... thats a whole situation. tim immediately regrets bringing damian to see you because this man already went off on how much of a 'hoe', you are.

you can take a lot of things, but this boy rubs you off wrong.

"seriously, drake? your new friend is a prostitute? you drew the line making friends with that kryptonian clone, but this takes the cak--"

*slap.*

...that hurts. damian's hand slowly makes its way up to his cheek, where the red was starting to spring.

he looks at you like you were mad. you are, thanks to him. "...you... you little---"

he was held back by an angry but calmer kon despite being also insulted, whilst tim holds you comfortably.

"hey don't listen to damian over there, alright? :( he's just a bit--"

"I'm speaking facts here!-- hmpfh!" a hand covers his mouth.

"seriously tim, does he ever shut his mouth?" kon says.

he huffs. "no. and that's why i was considering bringing duct tape earlier, Kon."

...okay, maybe his first impression forever got him labelled as a bitch in your eyes, but damian tries to make it up to you in any way he can since he actually finds you decent after getting to know you. (think of those asian parents that after scolding you till you cry, they give you food but instead money in damian's version)

"...ahem."

no response.

"...AHEM."

you finally look up at him, and a bag was thrown straight at your face. "you stupid ass-- wait a minute." you look inside the bag and it was filled with... money.

you look up at damian, only to see his figure quickly dashing off and hide behind a wall where he would secretly try and take a peek for your reaction. you smile and give a thumbs up.

"...you aren't that bad, but try shutting your mouth most of the time, okay? :3 <3"

...the green in his eyes glinted... and he scoffs. typical damian wayne.

"...sure, prozzy-- HEY STOP CRYING--"

fierce but protective. rude but caring. that is what damian is towards you.

and that is how he'll always be as long as that man is around...

"i'll be with you. and i shall do everything in my power to ensure you do not end up with him!--" too late.

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 25% for nuisance, 78% for humor (89% as robin)

ִֶָ࣪☾.𔘓

terry mcginnis aka 'batman beyond':

...is the man that kon, damian, and the others have beef with.

how he's part of the main timeline in this is that all of the events before batman beyond happens earlier. (i also tweaked a few things in canon here so dont mind me)

terry's dad died before the entire 'Powers' situation, leading to Terry living with his mom earlier.

...terry also suffers from something.

at a young age, terry cannot feel any sort of emotions. remorse, empathy, such things were removed from him. he could only feel empty, comparable to having a large gaping hole inside his chest instead of a beating heart.

the boy ponders why he was cursed with such a thing, and why he could only feel pity and sadness. just a little.

...he thought he was unsavable. until--

his eyes lands on you, the girl who was playing on the playground's swing. (note: darling used to live in gotham as a kid)

...he gulps. pretty...

"you there, what's your name?" you asked. always the first one to make a move...

...and you sound nice.

"hm? well? :3"

...he decided to speak. "...terry. i'm terry... you?..."

you smile. "they call me (name), pretty right?" he could only nod. yes, it was very pretty...

i think everybody could guess how things go from then on.

he meets you, grows up with you, falls in love with you, and in the end lives happily with you... if only it weren't for his tendency to maim just about anyone who gets near you.

he's a dog, honey. but he's your rabid, vicious dog.

by the time he grows up, he's learned how to hide what he truly is from you, and the terry that we all come to know and love is now here.

charming, witty, humorous... terry mcginnis is nothing but an amorous boy for you... and you love it. (u match his freak sm)

in his eyes, you two are together <3 and its not even a lie you two are but you're too much in denial since you firmly believe he deserves better :( (tho thoughts like that dissapear when he and you yk ;))

absolutely hates it when you spend time with anyone, especially with his adopted siblings. dick, jason, tim, and damian? fuck no. (if you read the batman beyond comics, those two despise each other--)

...so expect those two to be at each other's necks.

and about the cam girl part, yup, this man knows. and like tim, he tries to persuade you to stop. you're a complicated person, he knows. either for money or fun, you do crazy shit like this every time... but this one's really serious.

"...look at me." you obey, eyes staring back at ocean blue ones. terry's eyes were always so pretty...

"...hehe, pretty eyed as ever, mcginnis..." and he can't help but smile slightly at your words.

"..." damn you, really. his soft spot for you is huge, and 99% of the time, you get off the hook easily.

in the end, he might have allowed you to do this... 'artist' stuff, but on one condition:

he gets to f*ck you on some parts.

you blink, cheeks starting to redden. "...what--" and just like that, your fate is sealed <3

...currently, you were on Live. the rest of your boy toys watched with envious yet very heated gazes as your pussy was getting demolished by his dick. the close up shots were so unnecessary, the way he roughly pummels into you was so--

'$10000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'GR4YS0N_68: ugh yea terry ruin that little bitches cunt'

terry grins, feeling you getting closer. the position you and him were in was perfect, babe... perfect for a pic.

his strong hand gently but firmly grabs your jaw, making you face the camera.

he whispers to you so closely."smile for the camera, sweetie."

you oblige, a broken smile on your lips. the stream abruptly ends.

no need for the public to know what you both are doing in private anymore...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 0.0001% for nuisance, 90% for humor (100% as batman beyond)

(finally its finished 🤕 i have so many unfinished works huhu....)

(update: ill also try editing this too <3)

[anna-hawk]

L'étranger

Frank Castle x f!Reader

Summary: You decide to hit a bar after one hell of a day at work and meet a man who's willing to listen to you rant away. As the chemistry seems to build between you, you choose to be bold and ask him to come home with you. He doesn't give you what you want, but ends up giving you what you need.

Rating: Explicit 🔞 // WC: 5,9k

CW: PWP, sex as stress relief, bj, finger fucking, soft and emotional sex, first meetings

A/N: this is based on my current work life. I just wish I could meet Frank that way too 😅. Also, the title means "The Stranger" in French.

Read it on AO3

Stumbling through the doors of the first decent bar you found after leaving your job, you made a beeline for the counter, desperately needing a glass of wine or beer. Or whatever. You weren’t picky tonight. You threw yourself onto a free bar stool, slapped your purse onto the counter with a resounding smack, and uttered a large and miserable half sigh, half groan. 

“Sounds like someone had a day, huh?”

You tiredly glanced to the side and caught the sight of the man the voice belonged to. Absently, you thought to yourself that you’d at least managed to sit down next to a good-looking guy. The sharp jaw, broad nose and wide shoulders definitely did it for you. Unfortunately, you were too exhausted, mentally and physically, to really take more note of him right now. Instead, you stared at him with half open eyes and a flat expression. At his lopsided smile and expression of genuine concern, however, you huffed out a bitter laugh that transformed into another one of your long sighs. 

“More like month.”

The man cringed in commiseration and lifted his hand for the bartender to get his attention.  

“Hey, man, serve the lady whatever she wants and put it on my tab, yeah?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words.

“That's really kind of you, but you don't have to,” you said softly, waving a hand around. 

“I know,” he replied simply, but shrugged in a way that clearly stated that he was still doing it. 

You stared at him for a second while he took a gulp of his beer, observing his profile. And what a profile it was. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with a man trying to hit on you, but this guy wasn’t showing you more than genuine kindness. 

“Thanks,” you finally said, giving your order to the waiting bartender. 

“Don’ mention it,” the man smiled, inclining his bottle of beer towards you. 

Silence fell, but you could see him watching you out of the corner of your eyes, contemplating you as you pulled out your phone and put it on do not disturb. You refused to be bothered by anything from work or anything else for that matter. You muttered darkly under your breath as you saw the text in the most recent notification for your job’s group chat, but chose to ignore it. They could deal without you for the next two days. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The man asked tentatively right when your drink arrived. 

You gave him an amused side eye and took a long sip of your drink, groaning in satisfaction at the taste.

“I don't wanna bore you with my shit, but thanks for asking.”

You weren’t blowing him off, but really didn’t think that he’d be interested in listening to everything that was bothering you. 

Apparently he figured that he wasn’t the issue, since he shrugged. “I don't mind. Not a lot I can do, I guess, but if you just wanna rant at someone, go ahead.” 

You laughed at the suggestion and sighed deeply, turning towards him with your head tilted to the side. 

“Oh, you're not ready for this.”

He smirked and faced you as well. “Try me anyway?”

You stared at him for a while, considering him, but he only looked back calmly. Before you knew what was happening, you were talking.

“It’s my job… My manager is retiring in the next few weeks, and the guy replacing her is the worst choice the higher ups could have ever made. He comes from a different field, knows jack about what we do, and trust me, it’s not the past month he spent with my manager while she trained him, well, tried to at least, that will teach him everything he needs to know. It’s just impossible. She always has so much to take care of, and I don’t think that he realizes it yet. And if at least he was putting in the effort and showing us that he wants to do well, that would already be great, but he doesn’t. He keeps putting the blame on other people or the system or whatever whenever something isn’t working, or he messes up. He’s all fake smiles and laughs, but he complains about everything. It’s a nightmare. The thing is, he isn’t the only one at fault. The general manager handpicked him because she knows that she can control him, something she couldn’t do with my old manager. Our office is kinda far away from the headquarters, and we always did great work without anyone’s help. I’ve been working for that company for fifteen years, and my coworkers and I felt that everything was flowing pretty well, even if we knew that the company has more flaws than good sides. Although the salary isn’t what I’d love it to be, I love my coworkers, and the job itself is fine too. But now, with the manager gone, we all suddenly realize just how much shit is going on behind the scenes and what might happen to us. They tried to bribe us by giving out bonuses, but only to certain people. It was all supposed to be hush-hush, y’know. The people getting the bonus weren’t supposed to talk about it, but that’s not how we work. So instead of making us happy, it made us more angry. Not at each other but at the higher ups. Why would some of us get a bonus and others wouldn’t, when we’re doing the exact same job? That, and don’t get me started on how they’re basically kicking my old manager to the curb. She gave thirty years of her life to that company, worked her ass off, spent hours upon hours working so the job wouldn't transform into a giant shitshow. Her work ethic is incredible, and the higher-ups don’t seem to realize just how much she brought to the company. My guess is that they’ll have a rude awakening once she’s officially gone and everything is going to come crumbling down around us.” 

You paused, sighed explosively, and drank down the rest of your drink. 

“Well, shit,” the man said with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. These people really don’t sound like they deserve to have you or your coworkers puttin’ all that effort into the company.”

You scoffed as you stared into your empty glass. 

“You bet your ass they don’t,” you muttered sourly. 

The man chuckled at your vindictive tone, which had your lips pulling up on one side. 

“Hey, man, can we get a refill?”

You lifted your eyes to find your stranger addressing the barkeep and waving a hand over his beer bottle and your glass. While the barkeeper nodded and started on the drinks, you smiled ruefully as your seat neighbor turned his attention back on you, your heart squeezing at the soft smile he sent your way. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, ducking your head. 

“No problem,” he replied in a low tone. 

After a few seconds of silence, you realized that he was still watching you expectantly when you looked at him again. He chuckled at your expression. 

“Somethin’ tells me there’s more.” 

You laughed, loudly and with a wave of relief washing over you. Talking to him was lifting a giant weight off of you, as if getting the words off your chest had been more necessary than you could have ever imagined. His grin was wide as he watched you laugh, which had your stomach warming at the attention. 

“I wanna quit,” you started before pausing briefly and watching the barkeeper bring your drinks. You thanked him and took a fortifying sip. The drink you chose wasn’t too strong, since you just wanted to take the edge off, so you weren’t even really tipsy now. You definitely felt more loose, though. “I’ve thought about changing careers for ages. I don’t mind my current job as it is, it has good and bad points, like any job, I guess. So I’ve put my actual dream career to the side for years, focusing on staying financially stable instead. But now, I realize that I don’t wanna stay in that fucking company. I just can’t, you know? I can’t work ridiculous hours for a barely decent salary anymore. The thing is, I can’t just up and quit like that. I’d lose all the benefits I got over the years, and getting the degree that I need to be able to do what I really want costs money. So right now, I’m still checking out my options, but if the CEO doesn’t agree to let me go with my benefits, I don’t know what I’ll do.” You shook your head miserably and swirled your drink around in the glass. “Going into work and being stressed has been part of the job since day one. But mostly, it was never in a bad way. Especially lately, because I know my job, and I’m good at it. Now, though… When I’m going in, I feel pure disgust and contempt for the people employing me. I’m just so… done.”

You finished with a long breath, your anger simmering down after getting it all out, leaving you with mostly frustration. Your face suddenly grew hot as you realized that you’d basically word-vomited in front of a complete stranger, showing him all the ugly feelings and resentment you’d been carrying around for the past couple of months. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing over them with your thumb and index. “I know you said you were okay with this, but I still feel like I basically just dumped everything on you like a whiny kid.” 

You heard him chuckling, the sound low and warm. 

“Yeah, I told you to go for it, but you didn’t sound whiny to me at all. Just like someone who really needed to get it all off their chest.” 

Leaning your head over your folded arms that were already lying on the counter, you turned your face towards him with a small smile. 

“Guess I did.”

“Do you feel any better?” He watched you intently, his eyes moving over your whole face. 

You looked to the side, taking stock of your emotions, before you met his gaze again with a smile. 

“Yeah… I do.”

“See. Worth listening, then.”

After the past weeks of absolute nightmare, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have happened upon someone as kind as this man. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” you said with a tone of wonder, taking more of him in. You'd noticed his prominent nose earlier, but his mouth was just as worth looking at, as were his brown eyes. 

He scoffed, the sound self-deprecating, but he didn’t say anything, and instead, took a swig from his beer, which brought his large hands into your line of sight. 

“Thank you,” you continued, keeping your eyes on him from your slouched position over your arms. 

“No problem.” This time, he was the one to look away, as if suddenly shy, which only intrigued you more. 

Straightening again, you propped your elbow on the counter and put your head on your fist, leaning slightly in his direction as you observed him with interest. He automatically looked at you again, beer bottle halfway to his mouth. Your heart started to beat faster as his eyes dropped to your mouth. You bit at the side of your bottom lip, as if in reply to his staring, and felt a zap of want when he met your eyes again with a different kind of intensity. Emboldened by your drink and his reaction to you, you leaned in enough for him to be the only one able to hear you. 

“Come home with me?”

The man blinked at you once before simply staring at you quietly, which was the only sign that he was at least slightly surprised by you being this straightforward. You held his gaze, no matter how much you wanted to look away, as embarrassment started to run through you despite your boldness. As his eyes drifted to your mouth again, your anxiousness began to evaporate. 

“Hey, Will,” he said, while keeping his attention solely on you as he addressed the bartender who was walking past you. “I’ll close my tab next time, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Will answered easily, grabbing the beer bottle and glass from in front of you to put them away. 

Biting your lower lip on a giddy grin at the realization that this was actually happening, you got up and grabbed your purse. The man rose as well, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth at your reaction. As you walked out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, you hailed a taxi that was just turning the corner of the street. The both of you got into the car, and once you’d given the driver your address, you spent the ten minutes it took to get to your building in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but your heart was beating like crazy as you tried not to overthink your decision. You refrained from looking at him directly as well, opting to keep your gaze on the street. However, you were aware that he was watching you through the semi darkness of the cab. After arriving in front of your building and stepping out of the taxi after paying for it, you made your way towards your apartment, with the man following one step behind you. He stayed beside you as you fished for your keys, staying just as quiet as before. 

“Right, um, I’ll quickly hit the shower, okay? Been in these work clothes for much longer than I like,” you laughed awkwardly, as you stepped through your apartment door. 

You internally rolled your eyes at yourself at your babbling, but the man just sent you a small smile and hummed in understanding. You nodded and began walking off, but after only one step, you quickly turned back to him. 

“Make yourself at home, yeah? Um… I don’t have anything interesting to drink but if-”

A warm palm cupped one of your cheeks and tilted your face into the man’s direction as he stepped close to you, effectively shutting you up. 

“I’m fine, ‘kay? You go take that shower, and I’ll just wait here, alright?” he said soothingly, his voice low and gentle. 

Staring into his soft brown eyes, you blinked at him before you nodded with a small smile. He let go of you, and you immediately headed into your bathroom, shutting the door and taking a deep breath. You rushed through removing your clothes and finally stepped into the shower. The hot water helped relax your nerves, and by the time you were done, you were still nervous but in an excited way this time. Once you were done drying off and brushing your teeth, you put on a thin bathrobe. As you looked at your underwear selection, you bit your lower lip as you chose to forgo putting on panties. If things went as planned, you wouldn’t be wearing them long anyway. As you stepped out again, you found him standing in front of your bookshelf, his head inclined to the side as he read the titles. He lifted his head towards you, his eyes drifting over your whole body as he watched you approach. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, giving him a small smile. 

“You got a nice book selection,” he commented casually, while standing close to you. 

You threw your bookshelf a small glance and smiled. “You can borrow whatever you like.” 

He hummed, the sound contemplative, but he leaned in until his nose was almost touching yours. 

“Maybe not tonight.” 

You nodded, going nearly cross-eyed as you stared into his warm eyes. A second later, you were closing them anyway, as he tilted his head and pressed his mouth against yours. It was only a gentle press of his lips at first, which he repeated as he leaned his head to the other side this time. His hands came up to cup the sides of your neck, using his thumbs under your jaw to direct your face how he wanted it. Your hands lifted to his biceps, squeezing them as you tentatively sucked at his bottom lip. He seemed to enjoy it, since he grunted and moved in further, causing you to take a step back and against the bookshelf. You moaned softly and opened your mouth as his tongue gently slid over your top lip. As the kiss deepened, you slid your arms around his waist, grabbing at the shirt, while he cupped the back of your neck and placed his other hand on your lower back, bringing you fully against him. You tried pushing for more, but the man simply stroked his tongue lazily against yours while keeping you flush against him. Despite the slowness of the kiss, your knees were beginning to shake anyway with how thoroughly he was delving between your lips. 

“Be — bedroom,” you gasped in between two presses of his lips against yours. 

Your stranger leaned his head away to quietly stare into your eyes, his expression intense, before he took a step away from you, indicating for you to lead the way. Biting your bottom lip, you briefly hesitated before you took hold of his hand to pull him towards the bedroom. As you reached the foot end of the bed, you turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He stepped back into your space without waiting for you to pull him towards you, his hands drifting over your hips and to your back as he sought out your mouth again. You sighed into the new kiss and ran your fingers through his lush hair. A thrill rippled through you as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing it sporadically while the kiss turned hungrier. Wanting to get to your skin, his hands slowly parted the sides of the bathrobe until his fingers could touch your bare thighs. He ran them up slowly, making you shiver as he progressively reached your hips. They stilled for a brief moment as he realized that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the robe. His answer to that fact was to exhale harshly through his nose and make you take a step back towards the bed as he gently bit down on your bottom lip. You gasped at the sharpness of his teeth, and moaned into his mouth. His hands kept exploring your back, ass, and thighs, until you couldn’t stand it anymore and swiftly moved away from him to untie the robe and remove it at last. You were about to return between his arms, but the way he watched you attentively had you stopping and, instead, moving back, taking the last step needed to get on your bed. You did so slowly, moving backwards as you knelt down at the end of the bed. His eyes roved over your body, observing you with such obvious desire that it almost left you breathless. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this kind of undivided and honest attention. The man licked his lips quickly, before he walked up to you and bent down to cup your face and bring his mouth back to yours. Your eyes fell shut as you let him explore your mouth again, tipping your head to the side when he drifted his lips to your jaw before he tilted your head up to kiss down your neck and throat. Needing more of him, you reached for the buckle of his belt and tugged at it meaningfully. He leaned back a fraction to stare at you with a small smile, which you returned before you attacked the belt with needy fingers. Your heart beats were stumbling over each other at the sight of the sizable bulge in his jeans, making you almost clumsy in your haste to get to see all of him. Your stranger let you work in silence, but you knew that he was watching you. His shirt got in the way of your fingers a couple of times, making you huff and tug it up. 

“Off. Now,” you ordered almost snappishly, which only had the man chuckling in amusement. 

As you finally popped open the top button on the jeans, the man complied with your request and began to undo his shirt. With most of the buttons undone, he lifted his hands to the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. While he did so, you fully opened his fly and tugged the jeans and underwear down enough to free his length. You took in a shaky breath as saliva pooled in your mouth at the gorgeous cock standing proudly in front of you. Right as your stranger was having his face covered by the shirt while he pulled it off, you dropped to your front on the bed and leaned in without a second thought, sliding your lips around the tip. His hips jerked as he uttered a short curse of surprise, finally ridding himself off the shirt, which he threw to the side. 

“Shit,” he rasped, as you slowly licked around the head, lapping at the nerves surrounding the crown and using your hands to guide him this or that way. 

Using your elbows for support, you took more of him into your mouth, raising your eyes to his as you did so. His fingers landed in your hair, stroking over it in a gentle caress as he watched you with hooded eyes. You bobbed your head, filling your mouth with as much of him as you could. He felt incredible, big and hot, coating your tongue with his taste and making you moan. Tilting his head to one side, he slowly pulled all the way out, keeping himself a few centimeters away from your mouth. You lowered your eyes to his cock, before you met his hungry gaze again, and opened your mouth. Licking his lips again, his nostrils flared as he slid back between your lips, groaning as you sucked him in eagerly. You let him fuck in and out for a few slow thrusts, delighting in the way he was watching you and how he filled your mouth. Which only made your core ache with the need to have him inside you. 

Pulling off with one last lick, you rose to your knees and grasped the back of his head with both hands. There was no need for words as you met in the middle for a heated kiss. He quickly stepped out of his boots and the rest of his clothes before following you onto the bed, the both of you moving back on your knees until you got to the center. With one arm around your back, he lowered you to the mattress and slipped between your thighs. He draped his body over yours but held himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to stroke the fingers over your jaw. The way he stared at you had a warm shiver going through you, which only got stronger as his hand traveled down your body. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as his hand arrived at your mound before it went further. Your lips parted in a small breath as his fingers drew around your slick folds in a gentle caress, only for your mouth to open wider when he gently began pushing two fingers inside you. You moaned softly and bit your lip as he removed them before he slid them back inside. He watched you intently, drinking in each of your expressions of pleasure as you gripped his shoulders while he slowly fucked you with his fingers. 

“Please,” you begged, clawing at his skin when he didn’t move faster. 

Instead of picking up the pace, you felt a third finger pressing in alongside the two others, forcing a sharp gasp out of you. Throwing your head back against the pillow, you squeezed around his fingers, which earned you a low groan from him. He didn’t go faster, though, content to watch you squirm and moan as your hips undulated on their own to get more friction. Finally, he stopped moving, however kept the fingers inside you, and used his thumb to lightly rub it against your clit. Your hips jerked and thrust up into the contact, while you cried out at the sudden shift in erogenous zone. On any other day, and had you been in a different mood, you would have actually loved having his fingers inside you like this, teasing you, but tonight, you needed him to fuck you. Extending an arm towards the bedside table, you blindly grabbed for the drawer. 

“Please,” you repeated, meeting his attentive gaze with your half lidded eyes. “Fuck me.” 

His eyes followed the length of your arm towards the bedside table. He glanced back at you briefly, before he withdrew his fingers from you, which had you sighing in loss but also excitement at what was to come. Quickly rolling to your side, you opened the drawer to get a condom out of it before laying back under him. He held himself up with his hands level with your shoulders now, watching you as you tore the wrapper open and pulled the condom out. He leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips before moving up again. 

“Go on,” he rasped, the tone telling you that he was at least as affected by the situation as you. 

With your heart slamming in your throat, you peered between your bodies and rolled the condom down his length, licking your lips as it twitched between your fingers when you made sure it was secure at the base. Usually, doing this was something perfunctory, just a step to get to the good part, but with this man’s low grunt as he watched you, you felt yourself burning up even more. Slowly, you shifted your gaze back to his, meeting molten eyes as he lowered himself to one forearm again. He curled his hand under your neck to slip his fingers into the hair at the base of your head, while his other hand vanished between your bodies like earlier, only to line himself up with your entrance this time. You threw your legs over his hips as he did so, and let your fingers run through his hair before closing them in the soft strands on top. His gaze found yours as he pushed inside you slowly, so incredibly slowly. Your mouth fell open on a silent cry as you felt every inch of him inexorably burying inside you. He grunted and hissed when your fingers tightened in his hair, but his eyes remained focused on your face. When he was finally completely inside you, you brought his head down to kiss him deeply and squeezed around his cock to get a better feel of it. He groaned into your mouth and pushed his hips further into you, only resulting in making your head press into the headboard since he was already so deep inside you. While keeping his lips locked with yours, he began to pull out, using the same pace as while moving inside. You moaned and tightly wrapped your legs around his hips, while your walls tried to keep him inside you. He stayed there, with only the tip still inside you. Sucking on his lower lip harshly, you pressed your heels into his ass to get him to move, which he finally did, albeit as unhurriedly as before. He did it again and again, going slow but deep every time, tilting his hips in just the right way and driving you absolutely mad with need. 

“More,” you moaned brokenly, tugging at his hair and shoulders. 

His hand slid down your hair until it was curving over your neck, with the thumb lying at the hollow of your throat. He did move faster then, but it was still too slow for your liking. Drawing your nails down his arms, you keened, halfway between intense pleasure and intense frustration. 

“Fuck me,” you begged, as your fingers squeezed and gripped at his arms and shoulders. “Please, just-”

But the man kissed you quiet. Your eyes closed at the thorough kiss, except that it didn’t last long, since he knelt up and thrust in deep. You cried out, but as good as it felt, he still wasn’t fucking you harder. As you were about to grab his arms again, he caught your wrists and crossed them over each other. You gasped in surprise when he used one of his large palms to press your crossed hands between your breasts, keeping them there with strong fingers. Staring at him with wide and desperate eyes, you whined feebly as his hips gently rocked into yours, making a sharp bout of pleasure run through you. 

“Please,” you repeated for the nth time. “Just… please,” you whispered the last word, feeling your throat constrict. 

His expression was tender as he watched you while he leaned over you. 

“I got you,” he promised in a low tone, kissing you once. “I got you, Sweetheart.” 

The endearment and affection in his words had your heart missing a beat. 

Straightening again, he began moving once more, one hand at your throat, the other still holding your hands secure against your chest. His hips moved firmly; not quick and hard, but firm and intense, letting you feel all of him, while your legs, the only point of you able to do anything, kept pressing the heels into the back of his thighs. You whimpered at the pleasure he was giving you, so utterly different from what you had expected. As your stranger slowly but unrelentingly had your body climbing to its climax, you realized that he wasn’t giving into your pleas because he didn’t want to, but because he knew what you really needed. He’d listened to your story, observed you keenly, let you take the lead. He’d silently taken all of you in to reach this moment and give you what you needed and didn't realize you wanted: letting him take care of you and making you let go of all the negative things that were part of your life. It was with that knowledge that you were suddenly coming, the intensity of your orgasm so strong and so abrupt that your head flew back, your eyes closing tightly, as a cut-off sob spilled over your lips from the overload of feelings. 

“Sh, sh.” 

You felt his body leaning over yours again as his voice drifted closer to your face. His lips moved between your mouth and jaw, placing gentle kisses here and there as he let go of your hands. You instantly wrapped them around his shoulders, holding him tightly as he slid his nose against your neck while his hips picked up speed. Your thighs were trembling against his sides, but you didn’t let go of him, clinging to him as he rode towards his own release. His fingers combed through your hair as another sob ripped through you, which he followed by lifting his face to kiss you fiercely. You welcomed his mouth with gratitude, letting your tongues stroke against each other sensually until he came with a deep groan, his cock pushing as far inside you as possible. 

As you both panted softly, you met his gaze when he slightly leaned up, his eyes moving between yours searchingly. The hand that had been at your throat rose to your face, his thumb stroking away the wetness under your eye. 

“You good?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

You stared at him silently, letting your eyes slide over his face with its warm gaze and worried pull of his mouth. Uncurling your arms from around his neck, you cupped his face and let your thumbs brush over his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you answered softly, and smiled as his lips pulled up before meeting him for an unhurried kiss. 

After a minute, he pressed a final kiss to your cheek and gently pulled out before rolling to the side and off the bed. You watched him pick up his clothes and leave the room in silence. Biting your lip as you gathered your thoughts while climbing out of bed as well, you grabbed the loose T-shirt you wore to bed from the hook behind the door and slipped it on. With a small glance at the empty doorway, you returned to the bed and pulled down the covers to settle into a sitting position against the pillows, feeling unsure of what to do now. The man came back with only his jeans on, which had you taking a couple of seconds to admire his gorgeous form before you met his eyes. He remained in the doorway, looking as unsure as you. His fingers fiddled with the shirt absently as his eyes dropped to the floor and then to the side. When you had asked him to come home with you, it had been a spur of the moment decision, only done to get all the frustration out of your system. A one-time thing, purposely choosing to keep the encounter anonymous. But you didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, anyway. If he wanted to leave, that was okay, but-

“You could stay if you want,” you found yourself saying, as he still hadn’t moved away from the doorway. 

His eyes snapped to yours, then to the spot next to you, considering it for a second before he nodded a few times. He moved towards the bed and joined you under the covers after taking off his clothes again. Lying down next to him, you faced each other. His eyes traveled over your face again, stopping at your mouth a few times, which had you smiling lightly. At that, his gaze found yours, but you both stayed quiet as you observed each other. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you finally said softly, with a faint smile. 

The man frowned and shook his head as he looked down. “You don’t gotta thank me for nothin’.”

You smiled fondly at his display of shyness. “Maybe, but I haven’t felt this… peaceful in weeks, and this means a lot to me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and lifted his eyes to yours with a tiny, one-sided smile. You bit your bottom lip as you observed him.

“You really are something else,” you murmured, before chuckling at his unconvinced huff. “No, you really are…” you trailed off meaningfully. 

“Frank,” came the answer after a beat of silence.

Your smile widened at finding out his name.

“Nice to meet you, Frank,” you grinned before sharing your name as well. 

Frank snorted at your antics. “Yeah,” he said in a low and pleasant tone. “Likewise.” 

A second later, a giant yawn split your face, which had Frank chuckling in amusement, while you tried to muffle the yawn with a hand and push at his chest with the other. 

“Maybe we should get some rest, huh?” he suggested with a small laugh. 

You only hummed in agreement and turned briefly to your other side to reach the light switch, sinking the room into darkness with only the city lights coming through the blinds. 

“Good night, Frank,” you said softly, the name sounding private in the small space between your bodies. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he repeated in an almost whisper, shifting closer to press a tender kiss to your forehead while he pulled you into his side. 

[marlynnofmany]

At Home in the Mud

“Hey Wio, does your hover stool work over mud?” I asked from the door to the cockpit.

“Not deep mud,” Wio said, glancing at me with her tentacles at work on the controls. “The sensors feel for solid ground.”

“Dang.” I sighed. “Guess I’m stuck with cleaning the exo suit after this delivery.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “There are fresh batteries for the gravity wands, at least. Shouldn’t take you too long.”

Zhee stalked past me, his many bug feet clicking in what was probably irritation. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I, at least until he was out of earshot in the direction of the cargo bay.

I whispered to Wio, “And at least I only have two legs to clean.”

“Good point,” she agreed. “Best of luck!”

I thanked her and headed off after Zhee to where the exo suits waited. He had a head start in getting his on, which he needed. I tried not to draw attention to how easily I tugged mine on over my regular clothes (minus the shoes). Zhee didn’t even take the opportunity to make fun of my need for footwear; he seemed determined to get this delivery over with as quickly as possible.

He said, “Be sure to hold on to the hoversled so you don’t fall and slow us down.”

“Sure thing,” I agreed. I’d planned to keep a solid grip anyway. Hopefully this mud wasn’t the foot-sucking kind.

The ship landed gently — or rather, arrived. There was no landing pad close enough to our client’s location, at least none above the mud at this time of year, so Wio held the ship just above the surface on stable thrusters. The ramp nearly touched the mud.

Captain Sunlight had come in to see us off, and she stood to the side as we hustled down the ramp. “Be quick but careful!” she told us.

Zhee replied, “That’s the plan.”

I freed a hand to wave, then grabbed the edge of our most reliable hoversled. I would have liked to ride on it next to the cases of medical supplies (low priority, not urgent, thankfully), but that wouldn’t have been fair to Zhee. So I did my share of pushing and stepped cautiously into the mud.

Whew, I thought. More watery than thick. I can walk in this. And it was cold, but the exo suit did a decent job of insulating for temperature. I took in the sights more confidently, appreciating the fuzzy moss on all the trees, and the intricate shapes that the bushes grew in. It didn’t quite look like an Earth swamp, but it didn’t look hostile, and that was all I could ask for, really.

Behind us, the ship closed the bay door and lifted up to a more comfortable height to wait. Zhee, with a better view of the screen on the front of the sled, pointed with a pincher arm. We changed direction slightly and trudged through the mud.

The depth changed a few times in quick succession, going from ankle deep to above the knee and back. I did my best to maintain a careful speed, though it was tricky since I couldn’t see the bottom. Zhee seemed to be doing fine. I held onto the sled and took long strides, feeling the way with one foot before trusting my weight to it. Thicker lumps and rocks lurked along the uneven ground. I focused on stepping between them without losing my balance, trusting Zhee to keep us on track.

“Scenic,” I commented to break the monotony of silence and my own breathing inside the helmet.

“Wet,” Zhee replied.

“Scenic and wet.” I glanced up at the mossy trees, then back down at the watery mud. Muddy water? Somewhere in between. “Not the easiest place to walk, though.”

“The captain could have chosen Blip and Blop for this delivery,” Zhee griped. “But no, they’re busy helping Eggskin prepare some complicated food.”

“And Paint wouldn’t be up for this temperature,” I said as I stepped into deeper water that chilled me to my thighs. “Or this depth, really.”

“Paint misses out on a lot of unpleasant environments. Lucky.”

I looked over at him across the pile of strapped-down cases. “Only because she’d pass out and die if she got too cold. I don’t know if I’d call that lucky.”

Zhee tapped an antenna against the inside of his helmet. “Bah. Today, she’s lucky to be coldblooded. We’re stuck with this instead.”

I mentally ran down the roster of our other crewmates. Some of them, like Wio, had other jobs to be doing. “I suppose Mur wouldn’t have an easy time in something this deep either.” I didn’t even know if he could swim. Looking like a squid didn’t necessarily translate.

“No one is likely to have an easy time in this,” Zhee said, shaking a foreleg and splattering watery mud across a tree trunk. “I can’t imagine why the client chose to live here.”

“Maybe they like mud,” I said, trying to watch my feet even though I couldn’t see them.

“They are welcome to it. I look forward to getting back to the ship.”

I was in agreement about that. The info summary about this location had said it was the wet season (Really? Shocking) and that the regular roadways were unavailable. I was under the impression that there was a town somewhere nearby, or at least other people than just the one, but all I could see was endless swamp.

With rocks and the occasional tree root just waiting to trip me. I focused on stepping carefully and trying not to slow our progress.

Concentrating as I was, I didn’t realize we’d arrived until Zhee tugged the sled to the side. I looked up to find the first dry ground I’d seen rising out of the mud into a walkway of flat paving stones. A round stone house perched at the top of the rise.

We slogged up to leave an interesting set of footprints along the walkway: my left/right muddy bootprints and Zhee’s collection of much smaller splats. With the hoversled between us, it looked like this house was getting two visitors interested in staying as far away from each other as possible, instead of a single delivery.

When we got close, a chorus of tiny squeaks started up. I located the source: a small cage hanging beside the door, which held a handful of cricket-sized whatevers. While Zhee found what passed for a doorbell, I took a surreptitious look. They were small and blobby, not mini near-cousins of his, which was definitely for the best.

“Delivery!” Zhee announced while a chime jangled.

Various bumps and a muffled voice sounded from inside, then our avian client opened the door eagerly. “Thank you for coming!” he said in the same trade language we were using, just with the distinct quackity overtones of his particular species. His dark feathers were flecked with white and he kept his arms folded as if they were wings. He said earnestly, “I hope it wasn’t too long of a walk.”

“It was fine,” Zhee said. “Would you like your packages unloaded right here?”

“Oh! Ahmm…” the ducky fellow looked indecisively between the stack of boxes, the paving stones, and the indoors.

I said, “We could carry them in for you, but we’d track in a bit of mud.” The sled was much too wide to fit through the door.

“That’s all right; I’ll move them,” he decided. “Out here is fine. Now where should I—? Yes, thank you.” He took the payment screen from Zhee and signed for the delivery while I undid the straps holding everything down. We didn’t always bother with those, but I was starting to think we should. If I’d managed to trip and knock a box into the mud, that would have been an embarrassing bad mark on our record.

While we unloaded the boxes, those little whatsits serenaded us with a fresh chorus of squeaky chirps. It reminded me of tame finches with just a touch of guinea pig. I wondered if this was the local version of a windchime or something else.

The client saw me staring and said, “My dear little Cozy went missing, and these are his favorite food. I’m hoping to lure him back. You haven’t seen him, have you? A young cuddlebeast about this big, with a white stripe on his head?” He held clawed hands a few inches apart.

“Sorry, no,” I said with a look at Zhee. “I didn’t see any beasts at all. Did you?”

“No,” Zhee agreed. “Just mud.”

The client ruffled his feathers in a way I didn’t know how to read; maybe he was embarrassed. “They did tell me he’s suited to living in this environment, and he might not return if I let him out, but I haven’t given up hope. My home is nice and warm, after all.”

“We’ll keep an eye out on the walk back,” I told him. “Does he come when he’s called?”

“He always did when he was inside the house,” the guy said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” He waited for a moment, then looked down. “He loves his cuddles. I hope nothing bad has happened to him.”

Zhee set down the last box. “You’ve done what you can,” he assured the client, sounding like he might have even meant it.

“I suppose so.” The ducky guy looked sad for a moment, then rallied. “Well, thank you again! I don’t want to keep you. Safe travels!”

We bid him goodbye and headed back down into the mud, with me waving goodbye and Zhee trying to make good time. The client went back into his house and I focused on taking long strides again.

We went slightly to the side of the route we’d taken before. The mud was much lumpier here, with herds of round rocks that rolled around and made the footing treacherous. Despite my death grip on the sled, I was nearly swimming at a couple points in an effort to keep up. The muddy water was deep enough to swim in, but not consistently so, otherwise I might have given up and started paddling.

I had just decided to ask Zhee to slow down when I lost my footing completely and went under, holding my breath in panic before I remembered the exo suit covered my head. I got my feet under me by kicking lumps out of the way and I stood in the waist-high mud, wiping futilely at the dirty face mask.

Zhee sighed audibly and stopped walking. “Really?”

“It’s hard to find somewhere solid to step!” I exclaimed. “There are rocks and lumps of mud everywhere!” I scooped one up to prove my point, ending up with what looked like a potato. “Huh. That’s too light to be a rock. Tuber?”

“Fascinating,” Zhee said drily.

“It reminds me of an Earth food, but those don’t grow in swamps,” I said, giving it a closer look.

“Do not bring it back to the ship for eating,” Zhee said sternly.

“I wasn’t going to!” I protested.

“Good. It’s probably horribly smelly and liable to poison half the crew.”

I started to protest more, just on principle, then the potato opened an eye and I dropped it. “Ah!”

“What?”

“It’s a creature!” I shuffled in place, feeling more potato-like shapes bump against my ankles in the cold watery mud. “Are these all animals??”

“Ugh,” Zhee declared, lifting a couple exo suited legs out of the murk on his side of the hoversled. “What an unpleasant choice of environmental niches.”

I was thinking fast. “Wait, these could be like toads. It’s cold right now; maybe they’re hibernating. Hey, do you know what a ‘cuddlebeast’ actually looks like?”

“Not a clue. That’s your area of expertise.” Zhee gave me a look through the domes over his faceted eyes. “Do these things look especially cuddleable to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” I felt around gingerly for another one, hoping they didn’t have sharp teeth to use on people who interrupted their hibernation. “But that would explain why Cozy never came back, if he’s out here dozing with his distant family.”

“Well I’m sure he’s very happy if so,” Zhee said, stepping forward. “Let’s be off.”

“Wait, lemme try something first.” I put a hand on the sled as it eased past, but did my best impression of the squeaks that the food animals had made earlier. Cute little questioning sounds, like they were curious.

“If that didn’t work close to the house, it’s unlikely to work out here,” Zhee said. But he stopped again.

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “Cozy! Cozyyy!” Then I squeaked some more.

“What a surprise; nothing. Now let’s—” Zhee flinched when something by his hind leg croaked.

“Cozy!” I said with a grin, ducking to look under the hoversled. “Here, boy!” Something potato-like with big eyes and a distinct pale swatch on the top was treading water in the murk.

Zhee stepped fastidiously to higher ground. “I can’t believe you found it.”

“Yup,” I said, testing my footing. “Now I just have to catch it.”

“As long as you keep your mud to yourself.”

“No promises,” I said, making the first lunge of many and only splashing a little.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 27 - Choking/Breathplay

A/N: Many thanks to @polksaladava for the idea for this one.

Pairing: Greg Nolan x model!reader

Word count: 1.8K

TWs: Choking, name-calling (it's really quite nasty but it is consensual), p in v sex, cumming on face, Greg gets a bit carried away really.

Kinktober masterlist

Greg sighs deeply. It’s getting late. He’s been trying to do this shoot all afternoon and it’s been like getting blood out of a stone. He sent the rest of the crew home about half an hour ago and now it’s just you and him. And he’s pissed. 

“Okay, one more try. And can you please try not to look so much like you want to go home?”

You try to hold yourself together. This is the third bad shoot you’ve had in a row and you can’t keep fucking up. But you know Greg is getting mad and you can’t really blame him. You’re mad with yourself too. 

“Okay.”

Greg rolls his eyes and picks his camera up again, adjusting the lens. 

“Right, let’s go, come on.”

You strike a pose and try to smoulder, but you just succeed in looking about as annoyed as you feel. 

“For God’s sake, y/n! You’re supposed to be looking sexy. You look like you wanna kill me.”

“Well maybe that’s because I do!” You snap, dropping the beach ball that you were holding to cover up your tits in frustration. It bounces across the room. 

Greg rolls his eyes again and tuts loudly. “Well that attitude isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

You groan and flop down onto the nearest chair. “Nothing is going to get me anywhere. Apart from fired. Fuck.”

He sighs loudly, one hand on his hip as he looks to the ceiling for some kind of divine inspiration. “Take five, I guess. I mean you are already.”

You lean back in the chair and pout. You kind of want to cry at this point but you don’t see yourself getting any sympathy from Greg. He confirms your theory by throwing the beach ball back at you. 

“Cover up, for fuck’s sake.”

“You don’t like my tits?”

Greg has his back to you, putting the camera down and running a frustrated hand through his hair. He does like your tits, actually. He likes your ass too. And your face isn’t bad either. But none of that helps when your face shows every single emotion on it, and none of them is come here and fuck me.

“Your tits are great honey, but your tits aren’t our problem, are they?” He sneers, walking back towards you. This is all really getting on his last nerve. “It’s this pretty little face of yours. You seem to have lost your bedroom eyes.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers for a second and then lets out yet another frustrated sigh. 

Him mentioning bedroom eyes gives you an idea. 

“Greg?” You ask as he wanders about the place, fiddling with lights to try and stop himself from losing his temper. 

“Yes?” 

“I have an idea about how to get them back.”

“Get what back?”

“My bedroom eyes.”

He stops fiddling and moves back towards you. “Oh yeah?”

You take a deep breath. It’s either this or you lose your job. 

“Choke me. It… um… it gets me in the mood. And then I’ll be in the right headspace for… looking sexy.”

Greg stops entirely in his tracks. “Choke you?”

“Choke me. Just a bit. Until I kind of get a bit woozy. You can tell me all the things you don’t like about me while you’re at it. It might make you feel better.”

“What?” Greg feels like his brain has just stopped. No woman has ever said anything like this to him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted, though. There was a chance that partially strangling you actually would at least make him feel better, even if it did nothing for his chance of getting a decent shot out of this.

“I know it seems a bit weird. But… you want me to look sexy for this shoot, right?”

“Yeah and somehow you keep fucking it up.”

You stand up and drop the beach ball again, looking into his eyes as you stand there in just your bikini bottoms. “Choke me. I promise I’ll look sexy afterwards.”

Greg closes the gap between you and slips his hand around your throat, loosely. 

“Alright then. Tap me if it gets too much, yeah?” 

You nod quickly. “Sure.”

He takes a deep breath in and starts to squeeze, looking down into your face. His jaw clenches, thinking about how long this photoshoot has lasted. It ought to have been done in a couple of hours but it was almost 8pm now with still no decent photo. How stupid could you be to not be able to pose seductively in half a bikini with a goddamn beach ball? His thumb presses against your windpipe and he hears you try to gasp for air, but the noise is small, weak, pathetic. 

“Fucking hell. You can’t even choke properly. Stupid bitch.” Through gritted teeth. 

You whine, feeling yourself getting wet looking at his face, so close, so gorgeous, so fucking angry. You can tell he’s barely containing his rage right now. You try to take another breath and end up making another wheezing noise. 

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your stupid gasping for breath. You’re too fucking useless to be allowed to breathe.”

Your eyes go wide at the words and the fact that his thumb is really bearing down on your windpipe, making it impossible to get any air at all now. Your mind starts to get a little foggy as your pussy tingles. 

“You’re just a dumb slut getting her photo taken in her panties.” He stares into your eyes with pure rage. “And you can’t even do that properly.”

Your eyes start to flutter closed as you feel yourself floating, like your brain is completely outside of your body. Like you’re in space. Like nothing that’s happened today matters at all. 

“I like you better like this,” he hisses. “Quiet and not fucking breathing anymore.”

You feel yourself bordering on consciousness. Your hand somehow finds his hip and tries to touch it. It takes him a second to move from annoyance at you flapping around to realisation that you’re tapping out. 

He opens his hand, stepping back and looking at you in shock as you gasp loudly and desperately for air. You cough and fall back into the chair, your chest heaving. 

“Shit,” he mutters, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He’d almost got completely carried away. 

You scrabble around for the beach ball and look up at him with the sexiest bedroom eyes he’s ever seen. 

“Quick,” you croak. “Take the shot.”

He grabs the camera and takes a few pictures. Then he gets around twenty more of you standing and posing pin-up style, and then some of you crawling on the floor towards him. He doesn’t need those for the photoshoot but he can’t resist. He’ll find some use for them.

“That’s enough,” he says, eventually. He’s painfully hard but he still feels guilty. 

You sigh with relief and sit back on the chair. He shakes his head, taking your hand and leading you over to the sofa. “Here. This is a bit more comfy. Are you okay? I feel… I feel bad honey. I was real nasty back there and I almost lost control.”

His hand cups your face and you feel yourself melt at his tenderness. 

“It’s fine. It’s good. I like it, honestly.”

You look down at his lips and back at his eyes and he takes the hint, kissing you gently. Your lips are soft, and you taste good when his tongue explores your mouth. 

“Are you sure?”

You smile, then take one of his hands and slide it into your bikini bottoms so he can feel how wet your pussy is. He smiles back. 

“Oh, thank fuck.” He takes your hand and presses it against his clothed dick. “Me too.”

You bite your lip. “You wanna choke me again while you fuck me?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes please, honey.”

You slip your bikini bottoms off as he takes his dick out, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. You both moan as he slides in fully, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He looks down at you. 

“When do you want me to do it?”

“Just a little before I cum. Makes it more intense. I’ll tell you.”

He starts to roll his hips into you and you think it might be the time already. You’d got so turned on from the choking and being made to crawl around on your hands and knees whilst he took photos of you half-naked didn’t hurt either. You can feel your orgasm bubbling inside you, and it just gets closer as he grabs your breast and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Oh God…” you murmur. 

He looks up. “Already?” You nod. “Needy little slut.” He can’t help himself with the name-calling, but you love it too, moaning loudly in response. 

“Quiet,” he tells you, wrapping his hand around your throat again as he starts to really fuck you. 

He slams his hips into yours as his hand closes tightly and he watches your eyes slowly flutter shut again. He can tell you’re close by the way your body tenses and it's not much longer before he feels your pussy squeezing tightly around his dick. He lets go of you and pulls out hurriedly. 

“C’mere.” 

His hand on the back of your head guides you towards him as he kneels on the sofa, pumping his dick a few more times until he shoots cum all over your pretty little face, your eyes still closed. He groans at the rush of his release, and then sits back on his heels. 

“Shit. Fuck. How do you make me get so carried away?” 

You slowly open your eyes, coming down from your dizzying high. 

“That was incredible,” you drawl, trying ineffectually to wipe the mess off your face. 

Greg uses his sleeve to do it for you instead, then pulls you into his arms. 

“Can I take you to dinner?”

“I don’t really feel like dinner.” Greg feels his stomach sink. You don’t want to spend any more time with him. Maybe he was too mean? “But I’d love to just get some take out and watch some TV with you… if you want?” He almost doesn’t hear the second part, but then he suddenly realises what you’ve said. 

“I’d love to do that, honey. I really want to get to know you better.”

You smile into his shirt. Things have really improved since you started this photoshoot all those hours ago. Who’d have thought a good choking was all you needed to get the perfect shot?

Taglist:

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[dioslesbianwife]

Headcannons for jojo villains if the reader asks them to do their hair!

••••••••••••

Wamuu

He’s the first one you approach. His own hair always looks decent, so surely he’s got some secret technique.

“Wamuu,” you say, dragging a brush through a tangle with a wince, “how do you deal with this?”

“I brush it,” he replies plainly, as if it’s that simple.

“Yeah, but like—can you do mine? Please?”

Wamuu nods seriously, taking the brush from your hands. You sit cross-legged on the floor, expecting him to be gentle. Instead, he brushes with the strength of a warrior.

“Ow! I said brush, not rip my scalp off!”

“Pain builds character,” he replies without stopping, though his grip softens. By the end, your hair is smooth, but your scalp feels… disciplined.

Dio

Dio laughs when you ask him. “Do I look like a servant to you?

You shrug. “You’ve got good hair, so I figured you’d know what you’re doing. Guess I was wrong.”

He narrows his eyes, unable to resist a challenge. “Fine. Sit.”

To your surprise, Dio is actually skilled. He hums softly to himself as he braids your hair, fingers working with practiced precision.

“This isn’t bad,” you admit.

“Of course it isn’t. I am Dio.” He pauses, smirking. “Though I doubt you’ll find anyone else who can match my artistry.”

“Sure, you’re the Michelangelo of hair.”

Kira

When you ask Kira, he looks appalled.

“I don’t… touch people’s hair.”

“Not even your own?”

“I keep mine short for a reason,” he replies stiffly. “I have no interest in… detangling chaos.”

“You’re useless,” you say with a sigh, walking away. You don’t miss the way he mutters something under his breath.

Pucci

Pucci listens patiently as you explain your plight, nodding with understanding.

“Of course I’ll help,” he says, taking a seat behind you.

You hand him a comb, expecting some gentle care, but instead, he starts lecturing.

“Do you know the story of Samson?”

“Pucci, if you don’t stop monologuing and start brushing—”

“Samson’s strength was in his hair, perhaps yours holds its own power.”

It’s not the worst hair session, but the sermon drags on until you finally escape.

Doppio

Doppio is thrilled when you ask for his help.

“You trust me with your hair? Really?!”

“Yeah, just don’t do anything weird with it.”

He giggles nervously but does an okay job brushing. At one point, he ties a bow in your hair with some ribbon he found.

“There! Now you look even cuter!”

You laugh, patting his arm. “Thanks, Doppio. It’s not bad.”

When Diavolo takes over later, he immediately cuts the ribbon off.

Funny Valentine

Valentine’s reaction is pretty neutral. “Hair care is an important part of presentation,” he says, rolling up his sleeves.

You sit down, expecting some sort of patriotic monologue, but he’s actually quite skilled. His movements are efficient, and he even uses some sort of oil that leaves your hair shiny.

“There. As polished as any American hero,” he says, admiring his work.

“You’re weird, but thanks,”.

Kars

Kars is the most confident of them all. “My hair is superior,” he declares. “If you wish for perfection, you’ve come to the right being.”

You let him have his moment as he gets to work, though his commentary is endless.

“This strand is inferior,” he mutters at one point. “You should be honored I’m improving it.”

By the time he’s finished, your hair looks amazing, but you’re emotionally drained.

•••••••••••

In the end, you realize asking for help might not have been the best idea, but at least your hair looks… mostly decent.

[tangents-within-tangents]

As much as I love sweet headcanons and found family fics about the Batch accepting Echo and supporting him through his adjustment and PTSD/trauma, gotta remember that what we were actually given in canon is this:

Hunter: Me and the boys will tag along anyway, if only to say I told you so. Crosshair: I would have left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg.

(his rescue was just a mission for them, wouldn't have done it otherwise)

Tech: To be blunt his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie. Rex: Yeah? Well I know. Hunter: Alright Echo what are you trying to pull? Tech: How do we know that's what you're really going to do? Hunter: Well I guess you actually are on our side.

(They openly doubt his loyalty even though they saw what he went through, and he already fought alongside them on Skako. Feels kinda victim-blamey to me, and it's odd that it goes straight from this to him joining them, like he had to prove himself worthy first? It's just the opposite of fanon which usually has the Batch be immediately sympathetic/protective and assume the regs would distrust him)

Tech: You are more machine than man, percentage wise at least. Echo, a triple amputee: *sigh* lucky me...

Palpatine: ...the attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed Wrecker: You can say that again! Echo, a physically disabled person:

Echo, who was medically experimented on: *injured and having a panic attack in the medbay* The Batch: *off somewhere joking/betting about if he’s dead*

Tech: -from the Citadel rescue when you... how shall I put this? Wrecker: Blew up!! :D Crosshair: And turned into that Echo: *sigh* yes

Random stranger: *mistakes Echofor a droid* Hunter: *smiles and goes along with it for the credits* Echo, who was SOLD and dehumanized as a pow: *visibly uncomfortable* Hunter: Echo, go to your new owner.

Echo, who was treated like property by the Techno Union: *explains why slavery is wrong* And we are gonna stop it from happening to that kid. Tech: As well as earn a decent amount of credits once the job is complete. Echo: (bitterly) yeah, that too *leaves the room*

Tech: The client being a Separatist is not relevant. Echo, who was imprisoned and tortured by Separatists for over a year: It is to me! Hunter: Forget politics! We're here to do a job.

Tech: This squad existed before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist after.

For the record, yes people can and do joke about their trauma and disabilities

But look at Echo’s reactions/tone/body language in these scenes. It’s downcast sighs and discomfort, while the others are smiling, sneering, or dismissive. And because it's animated that means that every facial expression was intentionally designed.

What really clinches it for me is this moment:

Omega, a child who he just met, comforts him and helps him through his panic attack. But when the Batch, his squad who he's been living with for at least ~6 months, comes into the room he visibly closes himself off and hides his vulnerability :(

There are good moments too (though tbh i can't think of many)

I don't wanna discount that, but that doesn't discount this either. And it's just really weird when you think about it. Like half of these were in the first episode, which is the first time we are actually seeing how these characters interact together as a squad. And this is coming from the "defective" clones who supposedly know what it's like to not fit in? Who offered Echo a place with them specifically because they thought he wouldn't be accepted by others?

As with anything, there are ways we can read into or explain these moments (like honestly 'selling' your brother or betting that your brother died by lunch tray is very accurate sibling energy (And my personal headcanon (to reconcile it for myself bc the show didn't) is that Wrecker was worried about Echo so Crosshair jokingly exaggerated that he was dead and turned it into an argument/bet to distract him (which is also why I think he turns battles into a game/competition with Wrecker)) but Echo is very traumatized and there's a complete lack of consideration there). But that doesn't excuse it nor does it change the fact that this is what was presented to us in the writing. Characters aren't actually people (shocking I know lol), so any of their 'choices' are actually made by a real-life writer. And whether the implications of these moments were fully considered/intended or not, it still portrays the characters and their attitudes/relationships in a certain way.

[yilingpatriarchscvnt]

Paper Ring

"I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings."

Gekko X M!Reader

Summary: A popular boy with terrible grades, a less popular boy with straight A's.

Highschool au! Almost all characters are high-school student,Reyna is gekko's older sister, brimstone is M!Reader's father figure (adopted sigh).

"Please tutor me!"

"Why the hell should I? Rip-off Eminem."

"You can't keep going like this mateo." His mother sighed deeply in disappointment as she slam the F scored paper on his table. "You're almost 18! You can't be failing like this anymore."

"I don't see why it's such a big deal, it's just one bad score mom!"

His mother furrowed her eyebrows in anger, getting angrier each minute passes. "But it's not just one bad score isn't it mateo? Since this school year every test you have taken you almost failed every one of them!" She crossed her arms trying to calm down from the stress. "Look here gekko, I just want the best for you. I want you to get a decent job in the future, this is why I am doing this"

"Doing what?"

His mother looked at him dead serious in his eyes. "If you don't pick your grades up then you are not allowed to go any of those parties and dying your hair like that." His eyes widened by his mother's words as he got up from his chair to argue.

"You can't do that mom, All of my friends are expecting me to go to that party! And no they love my hair!" He said furrowing his brows.

"Guess you have to disappoint your friends then, unless you fix your grades." His mother said the final words and left him furiously clenching his fist in the room. There was still time for his final exams, few a months at least. But there was no guarantee that he would succeed all by himself like that. He had to find a tutor.

"Ugh.. this is such a pain in the ass." He mumbled under his breath as he got a notification from his phone.

hermana estúpida

Reyna

Gekko did mom see ur test score?

Gekko

Yeah she's pissed

Reyna

Well that's what you get for partying instead of studying dumbass

Gekko

stfu.

Gekko

anyways-

I need to find a tutor or smth

Gekko

do you know anyone?

Reyna

You could always ask Y/n

he's hella smart.

Gekko

who is that.

Reyna

are you serious...

do you not pay attention to anyone

I am literally upperclass of you but I know your classmates.

Reyna

he's in your class

try talking to him tomorrow

Gekko

thanks

Gilipollas

Reyna

Dont make me come downstairs gekko.

Gekko's POV

I shoved my phone in my pocket and looked out of my bedroom window the sun was setting by now, and the moon was peeking over the horizon. I decided needed some fresh air to clear my head and to mentally prepare myself for school tomorrow. I'll actually need to listen in class now, ugh..

I walked to the door, putting my shoes on and grabbing a jacket. "I'm going out! I yelled to anyone that could hear me. and then, I walked out of my house, heading to a small park nearby. I didn't get much time to go out alone, I was either going to parties with my friends or spending time with my sister. it was a rare occurrence for me to be in my own company. it was quite relaxing to be honest.

although I was relaxed, I was still angry. getting grounded because I can't get good grades? what the hell. So what if i'm failing? my family is rich anyway. If I fail I can always fall back into the family business. in my haze of frustration I barely noticed where I was going until I heard a soft meow at my feet. I looked down to see a fluffy white cat laying in a bed of flowers.

"oh shoot sorry bud, i nearly stepped on you there, huh?" It gave out another soft meow as I bent down to pet it. I couldn't help but snap a photo of it. "where's your owner, little one?" as if I had summoned it, an unfamiliar voice rang out.

"kita! kitaaa?! ugh where are you." within the darkness I saw a faint silhouette of a boy who looked about my age. as he stopped underneath a lamp post I took in his features, getting a good look at him. He had [h/c] hair that practically glowed underneath the light of the lamp post. [e/c] eyes that glanced in every direction.

I looked down at the cat who was purring beside me, noticing a light blue collar. I gently moved its head out of the way to see a name tag. kita. so this was the [h/c] boy's cat? I cleared my throat and picked the white cat up in my arms, cradling it like a baby

"uhhh excuse me?" he turned his attention to me, his [e/c] eyes glinting underneath the light. He noticed the cat in my arms and came running towards me with his arms out. before i could blink he had scooped it up in his arms, facing me whilst cuddling the cat to his chest.

"kita how could you run away from me like that?! you scared me to death." he said, over-dramatically. i cleared my throat again, trying to catch his attention. He finally noticed me standing in front of him and he looked up to meet my eyes.

I gave him a small smirk. "don't I get a thank you?" he nodded his head at me, not saying a word and simply turned to walk away. "h-hey wait! aren't you going to say thank you?!" he turned around to face me again giving me a small smile.

"thank you." he then walked off, holding kita in his arms, leaving me alone under the moonlight.

I was slightly shocked that he wasn't fanboying over me, since for as long as I can remember any time someone looked at me they would blush and ask for my number. It wasn't a surprise they acted that way, ever since I was a kid I was always naturally good looking and charming.

I took one last look at him before turning around and heading back home before anyone would get worried. after a minute or two I realised that I never caught his name. I turned around to see if he was still there but he was gone. all I saw was an empty park, with no one in sight.

Part 2

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

ive been thinking about your norm head cannons post ever since i first saw it. would you be so kind as to possibly gift a lad a longer post about norm w a plus/midsize partner 🛐 ofc you don't have to.

Shoot The Moon

Pairing: Norm MacLean x Plus/Midsize!Female Vault Dweller

Word Count: 30,213

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, pining, mild violence, discussion of arranged marriage, Norm MacLean's daddy issues, Hank MacLean is a piece of shit, neglectful parenting, love confessions, pregnancy talk, wet dreams, mild voyeurism, panty sniffing, masturbation (male), femdom, hand job, mentions of blow jobs, nipple play, cunnilingus, anilingus, hair pulling, scratching, praise kink, unprotected sex, unintentionally rough sex, mild cum play, creampie.

Notes: A hundred million thanks for the patience on this one, folks. It needed a little extra time to simmer, but I'm so happy with how it turned out. Honestly, this is one of my favorite things I've ever written. Can't apologize for the length; I know I originally described it as a "one-shot", but it's ended up more like "three one-shots crafted into a short story". It's a little slow burn in terms of the romance, but there's plenty of smut sprinkled throughout.

I guess you could technically consider this an AU or prequel work of sorts, as I've taken some liberties in establishing how Vault life works, etc. I hope y'all like it as much as I do! I'd love to write more for Norm in the future. His characterization took me a while to iron out, but I'm fond of my version of our petite heroine's even more petite brother.

Norman MacLean was painfully awoken by a throbbing headache as much as his usual alarm, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

It was an important day.

The entirety of Vault 33 had buzzed with excited energy for a full week now, an electricity that could be felt through the walls of his single's suite as he willed himself to rise from his warm bed. The lack of sunlight in the place he'd always called home made it incredibly easy to darken your room, which made getting decent quality sleep easier. However, it also made waking up in the morning a more significant chore than it needed to be, at least for the youngest member of the MacLean clan. His elder sister never seemed to have trouble getting herself out of bed in the mornings, but she never seemed to have trouble with a lot of a things that the smaller, younger man found himself struggling with.

The tile floor of the place was cold under his feet as he managed to rouse himself vertical, shocking him awake a few more degrees and sending him scrambling through his small dresser to yank out a clean Vault suit, along with a pair each of underwear and socks, which he yanked on as quickly as possible, nearly slipping and falling in his haste. He dragged out fastening his suit, yanking on and tying his boots after pulling them from their hiding place beneath his bed; he was in no hurry to report for duty as a member of the greeting committee.

Norm knew he wasn't greeting committee material; everyone else who would be in attendance knew it, as well, including his father, whose insistence was the only thing motivating him to be there in the first place. But he was the Overseer's son, a supposedly prominent member of their little ant colony, and people loved to talk, so here he was, forcing himself awake before he even had to report for work, all to welcome a bunch of people who wouldn't like him any more than the people he'd always lived around did. Fussing with his finicky hair in his bathroom mirror, fogged from the hot water in the basin beneath, he fretted over a toothpaste spot on his chest, hoping Betty or someone else wouldn't have a smart comment about it.

Moving into the small kitchen area to rummage for something to sate his early morning hunger, he moved up onto his tiptoes to grab a box of Sugar Bombs from the lowest shelf, easily jamming his fist into the box and eating a dry handful in silence. Checking the time on his Pip Boy, glowing at him from the kitchen table, he sighed as he clasped the thing in place around his forearm, casting one last glance around his place before heading out the door. His room was at the farthest end of the hall it sat in, somewhat isolated, so he had to give himself an extra minute or two to make it all the way downstairs to the place where you could access their sister Vaults.

He passed by the entrance to the kitchens as he wound his way down through the weaving corridors that made up Vault 33, a blast of warmth hitting him as someone exited and turned towards the dining hall, pushing a trolley stacked high with clean trays. A rather large part of him was grateful he no longer had to wake before the crack of dawn to drag himself into the oven-like cluster of rooms in order to wash mountains of dishes and vegetables, dice what felt like endless Cram, greasy and dense in his hands. The powdered egg and milk replacers also disgusted him to work with, but at least they had purpose, a key ingredient in almost anything people really enjoyed, baked goods especially. Besides, it wasn't nearly as bad as the InstaMash...he'd been neutral towards the potato flake slurry at best as a kid, but his time in the kitchen standing over giant, steaming pots of the stuff had made him truly hate it.

However, another, smaller part of him knew he disliked maintenance work just as much as he'd disliked working in the kitchen, just different aspects of it. The kitchen had been busy, gruelingly so on the wrong day, and everyone had always acted like he was in their way, but the work had been straightforward and regular.

Being switched into a maintenance position did allow him more freedom, true; he no longer even reported directly to anyone, simply worked, as one of several, through a provided list of tasks that never truly ended in order to keep the place clean and lit. However, much of the work was somewhat difficult for him, involved him climbing things he couldn't reach, struggling to complete tasks he wasn't quite made for.

At least no one was usually watching.

"Morning!" a cheery, familiar voice suddenly called from behind him.

"Morning." he replied, not looking over his shoulder, but pausing his steps just outside the entrance to the empty Overseer's office. His older sister trotted up alongside him enthusiastically, her high ponytail bouncing along with her steps.

"I won't ask if you're excited." she said facetiously.

"Well, I'm not not excited. I don't really care all that much. I just wish I didn't have to be there to greet them at the door. I don't have to work for, like, three more hours."

She chuckled at that as they descended a set of tightly wound steps, well beyond familiar with her brother's demeanor.

"Hopefully it won't take too long, then."

The two fell silent as they rounded the final corner, entering the small section of the end of the hall where the ad hoc welcome party had gathered: the Overseer, the members of the council, one or two older, more prominent citizens, and the MacLean children, all crammed together and ready to depart. Per usual, Norm was the only one who didn't seem explicitly enthusiastic, the space filled with early birds like his father and sister. The elder MacLean squeezed past Betty, who was deep in discussion with Woody about something unintelligible, and wrapped both of his children up into a quick hug.

"Good morning." he said. "Are we excited?"

"Of course." the siblings replied in unison, perfectly in sync, though one much more genuine than the other.

"Ooh, toothpaste." Hank sucked his teeth and gave the small white spot on Norm's chest a poke. "That's alright."

He immediately began wiping at the thing, trying his best to erase it further. Hank smiled in reply before turning to address the dozen or so other people milling around.

"Alright, everyone. We're about to make contact. Now, I know we all miss the folks we sent off last week, but let's keep room in our hearts to make new friends. I know things like this can be difficult sometimes, but they're all for the best. Please keep in mind that our new friends may be nervous to make such a big change. Be polite, be welcoming. Don't be nervous!"

There was a murmur of agreement from the small cluster of people before they all made their way deeper into the maintenance tunnels, funneling themselves into a thin line as they made their way closer to the antechamber where the Vaults connected. Lucy chatted excitedly with Betty and a few others, their voices echoing through the otherwise quiet corridor. As they descended a small flight of stairs, Woody accidentally bumped him, sending him stumbling precariously down the last step.

"Ah, sorry Norman. I didn't see you there." Woody said quietly, placing a quick hand on the smaller man's shoulder to help steady him.

"It's fine." he murmured back, righting himself to catch back up with the group.

They all convened in the boxy space, the only sound the hiss of some pipes as his father interacted with the control panel at the far end of the room. The indication light flipped to a bright green, and Hank resumed his place beside his children as they waited for the rather slow process to unfold. Something deep in Norm's chest was tight as the big, hermetically sealed door that separated Vault 33 from its attached counterparts let out a big sigh, rumbling and shifting as the mechanisms that held it taut against the concrete wall withdrew. He fidgeted with his hands in his place beside Lucy.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the larger cluster of people behind the door was revealed, staring back at them silently for a beat or two as the massive thing clunked its way into place.

"Welcome, everyone! Welcome!" the Overseer called, stepping forward to appraise the cluster of eyes staring back at him. An older woman, maybe a few years younger than Hank, stepped forward to the front, her face solemn, but not unkind. She introduced herself, but Norm failed to hear what she said, already turning his attention back to studying the cluster of vault-dwellers before him. He didn't see anything that caught his attention all that much, most of them too focused on the still-speaking pair to do anything interesting or revealing.

The group was largely young people, generally somewhere between sixteen and thirty if he had to guess. That wasn't surprising. That had been the deal, as he understood it; Vault 33 would send some of their glut of middle-aged men to the other Vault to help in beefing up their thinning security, and in exchange they would receive a number of younger people, mostly female, to beef up their thinning generational spread. Some of them clustered together, family members or already married couples, but around half the entire group seemed to be singles.

That'll be entertaining. he thought, watching as the unmarried members of the Vault council stared down their new compatriots.

However, when the older lady took a step back into her place with the crowd, she unveiled two younger women who he'd initially missed. The shorter of the pair cradled an open-top box of knickknacks in her arms, holding it tight to her chest anxiously, her dark hair tucked high and tight away from her face. She couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen. Beside her, a taller woman, certainly not old enough to be her mother, but softly, wordlessly comforting her like one. He guessed an older sister, perhaps a cousin. Her face was hidden by the way her own hair hung loose in a dark curtain around it, but he was distracted for several long seconds by the obscured view of the rest of her. He wasn't the only one watching, though; there was a taller, broad man looming over her shoulder, but a few steps back; close enough to be familiar, but not close enough to be welcome, it seemed. Norm didn't have to look over to know that Lucy was likely staring at the guy as well.

The woman who'd stepped forward turned her head and muttered something to the two ladies. Maybe she was the mother.

"Well, I'd best let you all get settled in. It's a big day for everyone, a big day for our home! If anyone needs anything at all, you can ask any of the council members here, especially Betty. Everyone is excited to have you here, so don't hesitate." Hank said, gesturing to the older woman standing beside him. "You can also ask me, of course, or either of my children, Lucy and Norman."

Norm's eyes narrowed slightly at his given name, his best effort to not roll them skyward in front of everyone. He and his sister moved to stick to the wall as the group began to filter by, many of them greeting the two or shaking their hands as he tried his best to act enthused. The acting was a little less necessary when the woman who'd spoken made her way by, nodding politely to both he and his sister. Immediately, his eyes scanned the narrowing hall behind her to find her younger companions, and his heart sped up a bit when he found who he'd been looking for.

She had looked pretty, if mysteriously so, from a distance, but she was breathtaking up close. Younger than he'd initially thought, she didn't seem to be much older than Lucy, the girl beside her still fidgety and eyeing the floor as they walked along. The woman he was studying, however, lifted her head from her nervous companion as they passed by to smile kindly at he and Lucy, waving as they did. Her other hand rested comfortingly on the girl's arm; she stood head and shoulders over her, and thus over him. It took a great deal of effort to not let his gaze linger as she walked away.

Following shortly behind her was the tall guy who had been staring at her, still doing so as he went by, completely ignoring them as he did. The MacLean siblings exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything as more people followed immediately behind.

For over an hour they were forced to hang around (though he doubted Lucy would see it that way), answering questions about facility locations, what sort of jobs were available, pointing people where they needed to go. He found the whole thing entirely draining, his energy generally uninviting; fortunately, his older sister was a nice balance to that, and drew people more towards herself. She knew he wouldn't be here if he'd had a choice.

Their presence also required participating in their father's anecdotes he saved for smaller groups of people, old jokes about Vault life and only-slightly-embarrassing family stories to endear people to him. To his credit, it worked like a charm. Fortunately, Lucy was front and center for these, and she was a natural in her role. She knew her lines like the back of her hand and her laughter was contagious, so she took the lead in being the poster child while Norm just sort of stood around in the background.

Eventually, most everyone had emptied out and they were able to begin the track back through the mildly claustrophobic pathways.

"I won't ask if you're excited." Norm teased as they made their way back towards 33 proper, a few stragglers exiting the tunnels ahead of them.

"Don't!" she scolded, but she smiled in a way that gave her away. She'd certainly had her eye on the tall guy who'd given them the cold shoulder, but he'd seen several guys among the crowd who fell right into her type, and he could feel the buzz coming off of her in waves as they slowly made their way back into the meeting hall.

For the last couple of years, his sister had had marriage pretty front and center on the brain. It made sense; she was social, loving, eager to show their father that she could be all the things that he wanted for her. She was far too good for any of the options she'd been presented with, however, and nothing had worked out for her thus far. Since they were children, Lucy had tried her best to be the perfect daughter, the perfect Vault girl, but at the end of the day, she asked too many questions, had too many opinions. The only person she'd ever even been close with was their cousin, and he knew personally that she rather regretted going down that particular road out of boredom.

He wasn't looking forward to having to hold Chet's hand through it when she finally did find someone.

Arranged marriages had once been a regular part of life in their trio of sister Vaults, families formed and fates decided based purely on numbers on a screen, predetermined factors that just-so-happened to line up. He understood the base logic behind the choice to set things up that way, the seemingly increased odds of successful reproduction between arranged partners desirable, especially in an endeavor held in such high esteem...if they were robots or livestock. For a project about preserving and reestablishing humanity on the surface, he felt there was a serious deficit of it in the way things worked sometimes.

Over recent generations, though, with the growing distance of time between them and the genesis of the Vault project, marrying for love had become much more common and accepted, to the point that arrangements were almost never even discussed anymore...that is, of course, unless you were an especially desirable (or undesirable) marriage candidate. Then, the old ways had a mysterious habit of re-materializing out of thin air. He found himself quite surprised that their father had never mentioned the idea of simply marrying Lucy to whoever fit her best, though, he also suspected that the match-ups they had on-hand were so undesirable that Hank had coordinated the entire personnel swap to "grease the wheels", so to speak.

But, of course, he'd never say out loud that he thought his father had brought in a whole new crop of young people just to help his sister find a husband.

The younger MacLean, on the other hand, secretly worried that he'd been placed into the latter category without his knowledge. His father spoke to Lucy about marriage often, discussing what sort of partner she should seek out for herself in order to have a successful family, describing the intricacies of marriage and mediating marital issues. He'd never mentioned it to Norm once, not really. For a long while, he'd chalked it up to his sister being the eldest, the first to "need" that sort of talk. However, as Norm crept into young adulthood, the subject was never really broached by his father. Increasingly, he felt his dad thought him incapable of getting someone to want to marry him, that being able to attract a long-term partner was just one of the many tools his son had missing from his belt.

Even more, he worried that his dad might be right.

"Well, I'm off. There's a leak somewhere that needs me, I'm sure." Lucy joked, interrupting his dour train of thought as they came to a stop at the intersection of a few walkways. "What're you up to today?"

"I'm supposed to keep around the dorms and stop them from being trashed by thirty-odd people moving in at once. So, naturally, I'm going to take a push broom through where all the new people are and be nosy."

His older sibling snorted, a typical response to his antics.

"Let me know if you find anything interesting." she replied before turning and making her way up the next flight of stairs, not leaving him any time to agree.

Norm kept his ungiven word, though, carefully noting anything that his older sister may have found interesting or prudent to know...chiefly, which of the young men she'd likely fancy were single and which of them had come already attached. He took his time sweeping through each hallway, making several rounds and gathering new information each time. Most of the apartment doors stood wide open, folks winding their way in and out of various rooms and making it somewhat difficult to determine who lived where. Many of his new neighbors seemed openly excited to be in their new home, but there was a palpable air of anxiety from many of them as the adrenaline began to wear off; he didn't judge them, as he figured he'd be more than a little nervous to be in their shoes.

As per usual, he disappeared effortlessly into the thrum of people carrying things, unpacking, exploring the facility, chatting all the while; not a single person acknowledged or spoke to him as he made his way back and forth along the winding corridors, not even the multiple Vault 33 natives he passed by who just so happened to be cutting through the area despite the fact that the dorms were quite out of the way. By the time he'd seen the fourth or fifth person, he rolled his eyes a bit; at least he wasn't being completely obvious.

Eventually, he noticed the older woman, whom he'd seen several times in various places, finally turn into a specific room instead of lingering outside observing, and after lagging behind for a moment he passed by the window, pleasantly surprised to find the curtains open as well. The younger girl was rifling through the cabinets in the kitchen area, everything about her reading much less tense than it had when he'd first seen her. Their guardian was out of view, but the bathroom curtain was drawn, and it relieved him somewhat, the absence of her watchful gaze allowing him to linger across the hall from the doorway and stare at the older of the two girls where she sat, cross-legged on the rug with her back to him. She'd piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, allowing him a peek at the soft skin of her elegant neck. For a minute, he completely abandoned the premise of sweeping, simply standing there, leaning on the broom in his grip and studying her as she fiddled with something, her head nodding along with a song he couldn't hear. Unfortunately, the curtain in front of her soon hissed back open, and he took off around the corner rather skittishly to avoid being perceived as a creep.

For quite a while, he took in the sights and nosed around, passing by a certain room more often than needed; the three women opened various boxes and bags, tucking away personal items and checking over the family-sized room they'd been assigned. It was one of the nicer units, same as the one he and Lucy had grown up in. Better rooms with more privacy were one of the benefits afforded to those who furthered the goals of the Vault, but Norm had lived in his own single room for several years and failed to see the appeal of rushing a relationship with a near-arbitrary candidate for bare-minimum material benefit.

There were peers of his, though, that had obviously decided that the deal was worth taking. They'd gush about the ways their lives would improve once they had families of their own, once they did their part for the Vault, for "America", something they didn't even necessarily have a true concept of, save for what they were taught as children, saw in movies, were told by elders who had been told by their elders, and so on. The whole thing lacked any real tangible qualities to it. He lacked enthusiasm for many things, but chief among them was an ideology that couldn't be explained better than pointing to a mural on the wall or simply claiming that "rebuilding is the whole point", whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. He'd never understood the desire to rebuild things just the way they had been before the bombs had dropped, before the war had changed everything forever. After all, what had really caused them to fall to begin with?

Something as massive as a world-ending war didn't happen in a vacuum. Maybe the real reasons behind it would be outside of his conception, issues of a bygone age that wouldn't translate intelligibly.

Wanting a family wasn't outside of his conception, though. As much as he had enjoyed the last several years of bachelorhood, virtually left to his own devices once Lucy had requested her own room, it felt increasingly empty. He'd told himself for a long time that he didn't have to get married or have children simply because that was "what you did when you became an adult" in the Vault. And that was true; he understood completely that he'd been raised in a way that shaped his views and desires as deeply as possible, and he understood that societal expectations weren't fatal to defy. But neither that knowledge nor all the intellectualizing of it he could muster could shake the feelings of loneliness and envy he felt as he watched more and more of his peers marry, saw them having and raising children and moving on with their lives. Even Chet, who was such a chicken around women that Norm was fairly certain he'd never actually been with one, was starting to talk about wanting to get married (maybe even to someone other than Lucy, which was the real surprise).

He had more trouble settling down that evening than usual, pelted with a million racing thoughts; his biggest distraction by far, though, was tracing the shape of a certain woman over and over in his mind, reliving the thrill he'd felt when she'd looked his way. When he'd woken with far more intense morning wood than usual the next day, he was chagrined, but not especially surprised; after all, she had been the very last thing he'd thought of before he'd fallen into deep unconsciousness. Taking care of the issue in a quick, sanitized fashion, he tried his best to not think of her, specifically. Unfortunately, his efforts didn't pay off as much as he'd hoped when he caught a glimpse of her standing in a long line outside of the Overseer's office, likely waiting for her new job assignment, and he was instantly so embarrassed that he turned around and completely rerouted, tripling the length of his walk to the maintenance section. Engrossed in conversation with the woman in line in front of her, she didn't seem to notice him, and for once, he was grateful for his social invisibility.

More significant shame started to settle in quickly when he was dreaming of her, though somewhat innocuously, almost every night after only a few weeks. Yes, he'd had crushes before, almost all of them on people he'd have no realistic chance with, but his brain had never chosen to fixate on a single woman before the way it had locked onto her. There was almost always some thought about her bouncing around in the back of his mind...or the front, depending on the moment. The amount of alone time he had when he was working was both a blessing and a curse, as occupying himself mentally was often his most arduous task, and the list of topics that interested him dwindled rapidly. It wasn't his fault she was new and genuinely fascinating, he told himself.

Soon, he was planning most of his day around getting chances to see her, gathering intel about her and her schedule in as innocuous ways as he could manage. She'd been assigned to the IT team, apparently more than competent in electronics repair and her ability to feel out issues with the Vault's internal electronics and communications systems. When he learned this, he'd made his way through the main IT office to sweep and dust, conveniently coming across the log of individual task assignments. The next day, he found himself on a ladder replacing light bulbs in the recreational wing when she came around the corner, components to fix one of the overhead projectors in hand.

"Morning!" she smiled as she passed by.

"Morning." he responded a moment too late, surprised she'd said anything. His heart raced so fast as she disappeared into the theater room that he had to climb down, nervous he'd manage to fall in his dizzy joy.

For quite a while, it seemed as if he wasn't the only person deeply affected by the influx of fresh faces. The "new toy" glamour was strong around all the recent arrivals, but she was high up on the list for discussion, in particular. Part of it was her height, naturally; she wasn't that tall, but she did stand at least eye-to-eye with a lot of the younger men, and it both scandalized and intrigued them, from how they spoke. Norm was grateful that he had long ago had to come to terms with those types of feelings. But she was also just captivatingly gorgeous, affable in a sincere way. Approachable, though that exact openness intimidated him more than he'd care to admit.

He hoarded information about her like it was his job, but you wouldn't have known it from speaking to him. When she came up in the conversations he found himself wrapped up in, chats with Lucy and Betty and his father, he put on the same air of polite, vaguely-masked disinterest that he usually wore. Though, when Chet asked about her, he admittedly stonewalled him a bit harder, pretending he barely knew who his cousin was asking about. The older the pair got, the more tired Norm grew of feeling like the slightly older man's only emotional support; he certainly wasn't going to spell out how to steal away a woman they both had their eye on. As far as he was concerned, Chet could find his own way.

For several weeks, he monopolized tasks around the dorm area, working later hours so he could be around when she walked through the halls to go home, sometimes accompanied by her sister or a friend. His own sister even joined the mix from time to time, eventually, though it was typical of her to sniff out others with an equal zest for life. He usually lingered out of the way despite how badly he wanted to actually talk to her, too afraid she would suddenly notice how often he was around. However, this particular habit came to a swift end when he rounded the corner towards her family suite one evening and found the older woman who lived with her camped outside, reading a book and leaning against the wall.

He'd learned that she was an aunt of the two younger ladies, one who had been unfortunate in that she was both responsible and unattached enough to be the person chosen to go with all the younger folks from 32 when they moved. Something told him that if he remained childless his whole life, he still wouldn't be burdened with an obligation like that; she made him feel skittish, her protective eye clearly set a little closer on him than he was used to, but he didn't exactly hold it against her.

Trying his best to keep his head low as he passed by her, eyes focused on where the long wooden handle of the push broom met the head, he nearly flinched when she spoke to him.

"Evening." she said, her own gaze not lifting from the pages that filled her hand.

"Hello." he replied diplomatically, giving her a polite nod.

"They've got you working awfully late, haven't they?"

He didn't respond to what she said, tripping over his own tongue as he continued to pass by. The only response that he could fumble for was a forced laugh, but the way she looked at him when she finally did told him quite loudly that she wasn't joking. Fumbling his way down the stairs, he ran the broom along the floor all the way back to maintenance in an effort to look busy as he tried to lower his heart rate. Lying on his couch in his silent apartment later, a weathered hacking manual cradled against his chest, he felt like he could turn himself inside out in pure mortification.

For a week or so, he avoided her as best as he could, convinced she would run screaming if she saw him, but he was too weak to stay away forever. After yet another slow day of dusting, floor polishing, and pushing a broom around the halls in hopes of catching a glimpse of her, Norm decided that he was in need of some genuine alone time somewhere where he wouldn't be bothered. As much as he enjoyed having his own room, he didn't enjoy being functionally unable to really lock the door.

The small utility closet was inconspicuous, tucked at the far end of one hall, away from the living quarters and around a corner almost no one ever took, save for the occasional person assigned to some of the maintenance tasks around the Vault. However, their hours were predictable, and the dinky little room had become somewhat of a place of refuge for him over the years, even before he'd been reassigned to maintenance himself. Since he was a boy, he'd steal away to this hidden place, spending as much time sat on an upturned bucket, studying various manuals and savoring the silence, as he thought he could get away with.

This day, however, it had only been a few minutes of peace before he could hear the telltale sound of someone fiddling with the lock. He'd taught himself how to re-seal it from inside, but it could still be picked from the outside by someone who knew how. Panicking for a moment, he sat frozen, gripping the systems terminal manual in his lap so tight he was afraid he'd rip the pages. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The only person who knew about his penchant for hiding away here was Lucy, and she wouldn't just barge in. She would linger down the hall, near the more common areas, waiting to see him emerge so she wouldn't draw attention.

Maybe he could lie and say he accidentally got locked inside.

However, his overthinking proved unnecessary when the door flung open and the very person whose visage he'd come here to escape stepped inside, her head peeking around the corner before she let the door close behind her. When she let out a deep sigh, leaning her forehead against the door, he realized she hadn't seen him tucked away in the corner, and he knew he needed to say something quickly.

"Uh, hey." he said lamely, slowly rising from his spot, setting the book aside.

She did jump, but when she turned and sees him, her reaction was more positive than he'd expected.

"Hi there." she replied, her eyes darting around somewhat awkwardly in what he guessed was embarrassment. "Sorry, I assumed this particular random broom closet would be unoccupied."

There was a bit of a pause as he took in what she'd said, leaving the two sort of shuffling back and forth as they stared at one another.

"Well, I guess you know what they say about assumptions." he joked, desperate to ease the weird vibe quickly filling the room. To his pleasant surprise, this earned a seemingly genuine chuckle from her, and the warm, sweet sound made him smile wider than he had in a long time.

"Well, my apologies. I can find another closet to hang out in." she smiled.

"Oh, please. Feel free to stay and take advantage of the luxurious accommodations as long as you'd like." he said, sweeping his hand in a grand gesture around the space, highlighting the stacks of boxes and shelves of janitorial supplies.

She outright laughed at that.

"You're the Overseer's son, right? Lucy's brother? I'm surprised I don't see you more."

There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat at her words, but he knew she was just making an observation to keep the conversation going,

"Yeah, Norm. I'm fairly practiced at blending into the background." he introduced, sticking his hand out in front of him rather awkwardly for her to shake. His palm felt a little clammy as she pressed her own against it, and he cringed internally at how damp it must have felt to her. She didn't react, however, keeping eye contact with him as they shook firmly.

"Norm." she repeated, and hearing her lips wrap around his name like they did made him shiver in a way he really hoped wasn't noticeable. She introduced herself, and he politely listened, rather expertly pretending that he hadn't had all the information she gave him for weeks. It would be difficult to not know of her purely due to her popularity as a topic of discussion, but he knew he would have been fascinated by her, regardless. Something about her, something beyond the physical beauty, was constantly drawing him to her, making her take over his thoughts since she'd arrived.

"So..." he asked. "Hiding from someone?"

She looked rather sheepish for a moment.

"Maybe a few someones. I've been pretty hard-pressed for peace and quiet since we all got here. I knew people would be excited to meet us, but I really wasn't expecting how much people would wanna talk to me, personally. I'm used to a little less public exposure than this."

I don't blame them. he thought. I want to be around you all the time, too, and I hardly know you.

"I mean, really, you're welcome to hang out in here. No one comes in here most of the time, save for once a week or so. I can leave if you wanna be alone." he offered, somewhat awkwardly making a move towards the door.

"Oh, no, please!" she insisted, her warm hand resting on his chest for a moment as she tried to stop him. His heart broke into a sprint. "I don't wanna kick you out of your spot. Maybe I could just sit in here with you for a few minutes?"

He was rather astonished by her offer, but certainly wasn't going to turn her down, gesturing to a stack of boxes to his right. She joined him quickly, still over a head taller than him even when she sat. He stole frequent looks up at her as she settled in, nosing through the little collection of things he'd hidden away.

"Terminal manuals?" she asked, thumbing through the tome he'd been reading when she'd arrived. "Trying to join the IT team?"

"Oh, no." he said. "It's more of a...hobby, I guess."

"Ahh. So you're teaching yourself to hack into things." she replied, her tone teasing as she cut her eyes at him. "I could teach you a thing or two."

"Careful, I'll take you up on that." he teased, feeling shockingly bold, and she giggled again.

For a long while, maybe an hour or so, the two sat in mostly silent company, browsing through the stack of manuals and supplemental readings that lived on the shelf they'd crowded around. Occasionally, she'd ask him an innocuous, simple question, or make a small joke. He ached to do the same, but held his tongue unless spoken to for fear of say something off-putting. The tight space of the utility closet was warm, full of the lingering tang of solder and old, crispy book pages.

Eventually, she stood and stretched, smiling at him before placing the book in her hand back on the shelf. She bent over the stack of boxes she'd been sitting on as she did, and he couldn't pull his eyes away from the shape of her ass jutting out at him. He dug his teeth into his cheek until it hurt to distract himself.

"Alright, I need to get back to the rewiring project I was working on." she said, stretching as she turned to face him. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Norm. Let's do it again soon."

"Yeah." he chuckled, trying to remain casual as his gut tightened at the sound of his name on her lips again. "Like I said, whenever."

He didn't really believe she meant what she said, but she did grin rather eagerly before disappearing out the door, leaving him alone in the silence once more. He waited a while longer before following.

That night, he dreamt of her yet again, but this time, he pushed things even further. He didn't try to, but nevertheless, she was there, hidden away in that closet with him again, her intoxicating smell filling the space completely, making his head swim even more than the surreal-feeling setting. Almost everything was eerily similar, only this time he didn't have to worry about being defeated by his own cowardice...

...and this time she was literally welcoming him with open arms, calling him to her eagerly with that bright smile plastered to her angelic face.

He knew she was only being friendly when she'd laughed at his jokes, that the smile she'd flashed him was probably one she used with everyone. But in that moment, it had felt like it was just for him, and the memory of it made him shudder strongly as he felt the pressure of her hands against his chest, tugging him closer by the breast pockets of his suit.

"Norm." she beckoned, and her seductive voice rang through his head. The dream was bordering on lucid; he knew this couldn't possibly be real, but wanted it to be so badly that he pushed forward, pressing his face into the flesh of her throat. It was warm and ghostly and tingled against him like television static, his brain apparently unable to even guess at how heavenly soft her real skin would be.

Endless praise poured from his mouth, breathless words of worship that didn't quite make it to his ears. When he made full contact with her, she was suddenly completely nude, stood there in all her full, soft glory, her loose hair framing her face beautifully as she wrapped her leg around his hip, pushing herself at him eagerly. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her pleading, begging, and he could feel himself overheating as he fumbled with his fly. She kissed him as his cock slid against her skin, and an almost inhuman growl left her as he found her opening and slipped inside, his hips moving quickly and harshly against hers...

Norm woke rather violently, the sudden, pooling warmth of his spend tainting his sheets ripping him from sleep. It took a moment for his head to clear, the fog of sleep making it difficult to determine if what he was experiencing in that moment was any more real than what he had been experiencing a moment ago. This, however, was much less pleasant. Stumbling a bit as he scrambled to his feet, he took in the mess all over him, all over the bed, a cold wave of shame washing over him as he made his way into the bathroom to retrieve a rag. Stripping naked, he shivered unpleasantly as the cool, wet cloth moved across his hot, sticky skin. His cock was still incredibly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm, and he glared at it as it continued to throb softly, not yet deflated.

The humiliation he felt at kneeling beside his bed, naked and tired and scrubbing a mess off of his sheets, was intense. Accompanying it, an overwhelming sense of guilt at fully reducing her to fodder for his sexual fantasies after talking to her exactly one time. He'd dreamt of her before, but this felt different, worse. He was no better than any of the other men in the Vault, he thought. Something of this nature hadn't happened to him since he was a teenager, and apparently all it took to reduce him to a hormonal mess once more was the presence of a nice, attractive woman who didn't completely ignore him.

In the aftermath of the frantic cleaning, he sat on the edge of the mattress, hiding his burning face in his hands as he tried his best to will away the second erection plaguing him. Several long, grating minutes passed, the young man too busy staring at the wet spot on his sheets and internally berating himself to even think of trying to get back to sleep. But eventually, his increasing fatigue and frustration came to a head, and he begrudgingly made his way to the shower, letting the hot water blast him with a deep sigh.

He wasted time for a few minutes, washing his hair unnecessarily before moving to soap his body, pointedly avoiding his aching cock, flushed red and angry at his neglect. If he was going to be a creep, he could at least practice a bit of self control. However, eventually the water began to cool, and he begrudgingly popped open the bottle of conditioner from the shelf beside him, dropping a generous glob in his hand.

He stroked himself quickly, harshly, trying to finish himself off as efficiently as possible, embarrassed at the way he couldn't keep the image of her out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to think about anything else. The brief view he'd gotten of her ass bent over at the waist was drilled into his head, hips bucking hard into his own grip at the thought of sliding his cock into her from behind, burying his face in her soft hair as he pumped away at her, making her squirm and come apart around him. The thought made him explode, spattering cum across the shower floor and wall.

Resting his forehead against the warm tile, his hand splashed away the mess before fumbling for the nozzle, the spray gurgling to a halt and leaving him standing there, nude and dripping wet, alone with his thoughts. His plan had worked, at least somewhat; he felt nothing now but guilt, mild worry, and the chill of the increasingly cold shower stall. Wrapping himself in a towel and taking in his seemingly half-drowned form in the mirror, he resolved to continue essentially avoiding her. The way he saw it, he was doing her a favor, his ability to act acceptably around her feeling more and more nonexistent by the day.

Little did he know, his new acquaintance was formulating other plans.

The next day was a town hall day, and Norm had arrived just on time, skittering quietly into his chair after dragging his feet a little too long on the way in. His father lingered at the podium, giving his notes a last minute once-over and waiting for the stragglers to make their way to their spots. He slid in beside his sister, nodding to her and then up towards the podium. Hank flashed his children a quick, warm smile before scanning the rest of the room over.

Once the meeting began in earnest, Norm allowed his gaze to wander a bit, noticing a few swaps in how the new people were arranging themselves on "their" side of the hall, even noting some native Vault 33 members mixed in. Several pairs of folks were cuddled up awfully close, which he found remarkable, given the relatively brief time everyone had known one another.

He was distracted from his somewhat judgmental thoughts when he craned his neck and noticed that the person directly across the aisle from him had changed as well, her head already turned in his direction as she entered his line of vision. Instantly, his head snapped back forward, embarrassed at the accidental eye contact. He let a moment pass, staring hard at his father but not hearing any of his words, before peeking over once more; she was still looking his direction, a pleasant smile painting her face.

For most of the remainder of the meeting, he kept his eyes forward, chastising himself for being nosy. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she seemed to keep peeking over at him, and eventually the curiosity got to him. When he allowed himself to fully turn his head and look over at the woman he'd been fixated on for weeks, she looked right back at him, still smiling. He was ready to write it off as some sort of coincidence; maybe she was looking at someone behind him, Lucy or another girlfriend. However, she held his gaze for a long second, one of the hands that rested on her lap lifting to waggle her fingers at him in a small wave.

Who, me?

Almost like she'd heard him, she raised her eyebrows and pointed her forehead at him, as if to confirm his curiosity. His cheeks felt instantly warm, a little smile jumping to his lips.

Slightly dazed, Norm turned his attention back to the stage for real, noticing that Betty had taken up at the podium to discuss some lesser business. He also noticed his dad lingering off to the side; he seemed to be looking straight at him for once, and it caught him off guard. Studying the older man, he watched as his gaze danced back and forth between him and the woman across the aisle from him, his face as unreadable as ever.

Once the meeting concluded, the immediate buzz of voices kicking in filled the meeting hall, several dozen people all trying to shuffle off to work or wherever they were supposed to be. He rose quickly, moving to head back to the menial task he'd been occupying himself with before he'd come down. However, he paused a moment when she leapt up and into his path.

"Hey, Norm!" she said sweetly, waving at him in full as she turned to make her way back down the aisle.

"Hi." he replied awkwardly, smiling as normally as possible at her as she went by.

There was a beat after she left, and already he could feel the growing energy beside him.

"What was that?" Lucy asked almost immediately, drilling into him with those massive eyes of hers.

He scowled as best as he could, crossing his arms.

"Nothing!" he insisted, but the way his sister looked at him didn't convey much faith in his answer. Fortunately, she kept her teasing nonverbal and simply pulled a face at him as he walked away.

Going about the rest of his day, he naturally found himself replaying their little interaction over and over in his head, so distracted by the constant rumination that he almost completely blew through the designated lunch period for all the working adults. Drawn out over a couple of hours, most folks who were able still came towards the beginning for the freshest serving of whatever was on offer for the day, leaving the dining hall comparatively empty for the rest of the time. Dinner was usually a private meal that people ate in their rooms, prepared for themselves and shared with their families, but lunch was treated more communally...by most people. There were the odd few less-than-social individuals, like Norm himself, who would sometimes secret things away to their rooms or another quiet spot to eat alone. But in the few years since he'd moved into his own room, he found that he often didn't feel like putting in the effort, often just choosing an out of the way table and powering down whatever he could get his hands on to fuel him for the rest of his shift with the least amount of fuss.

She was still front and center in his thoughts as he settled quickly into a seat, setting to stuffing the rather bland sandwich into his mouth as quickly as he could without feeling like a beast. Unfortunately, that choice ensured that his mouth was filled almost as full as comfortably possible when she suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, carrying her own matching meal.

"Hi, Norm! Can I sit with you?" she asked, balancing what looked like some fruit juice in her other hand.

After briefly contemplating attempting to swallow down the whole bite in one go, he decided a nonverbal answer would be less humiliating than accidentally choking to death in front of her, so he nodded very carefully, scooting a few inches across the bench to make room for her. Between his diminutive build and the length of the table, it wasn't needed, but he didn't trust himself to encroach too far into her personal space.

"You don't normally eat this late." she mused pleasantly, casually, as if he was so used to her presence.

"Oh, no. I like to wait until the peak passes, but I usually come earlier than 'the last possible minute'." he replied after a moment, swallowing the last bit of matter in his mouth back nervously.

"I try, but a lot of the time I just get so wrapped up in whatever I'm doing that I lose track of time. Then I end up running down here to grab whatever's leftover." she said between bites. "Lunch isn't my favorite meal."

He chuckled at that, feeling himself relax incrementally.

"So, are you and your family adjusting alright?" he asked after another bite, testing out his rusty conversational skills.

"I think everyone has settled in pretty well. I was kinda worried about my sister when we first moved, but she's made a couple of friends and she likes her job in hydroponics. She loves plants. My aunt has always been a little hard to read, and she's got a real 'stiff upper lip' sort of mentality, but I think she likes it here fine. She's a lady of routine and she's had to make some adjustments." she replied, peeling an especially dry-looking bit of crust from the remainder of her sandwich. "It's sweet of you to ask."

"Ah." he blushed, fumbling for a follow-up. "Is it just the three of you? Do you have other siblings?"

"Yeah, two more younger ones. They're still in school, living with mom and dad and all that. Don't get me wrong, I miss them like crazy, but it's nice to have free time I didn't have before, since I used to watch them a lot." she responded, swallowing down the last of her beverage and setting the empty cup on her plate.

"I bet that would be nice. Must be weird to not be able to talk to them, though."

"I make sure to write them plenty of indoctrinating letters." she smiled.

"Better be careful with that. " he joked, eyes glued to the way her reddened tongue swept across her lower lip. "They'll put the kibosh on communication between Vaults."

"Eh, I'm sure I could figure out a way to write them, anyway." she shrugged with playful hubris, gathering her dishes close to her and sweeping the few crumbs from the tabletop onto it. "Well, I'd totally stay and chat more, but I'm in the middle of some voltage output testing downstairs."

He grinned sadly.

"Well, it was nice talking to you." he said.

"Let's continue the conversation tomorrow. What time do you usually come down to eat?" she asked, rising from her spot.

Rather astonished, he stammered out whatever time came to mind first and simply made an effort to show up at that time. True to her word, she appeared right on time the next day, waving at him as she entered the dining hall. She passed a table of previous 32 dwellers and greeted them as well on her way by, pointedly ignoring the presence of the bigger built guy who was always fixated on her. Her seemingly unwanted shadow had been assigned to security detail and apparently used the job's freedom of movement the same way Norm often did.

They stood in the short line together, both receiving a small serving of minced Cram loaf and a little InstaMash, by far one of his least favorite lunches in the rotation. She didn't seem to notice the eyes on both of them as they sat; that, or she didn't care that people were staring. The conversation didn't start up as quickly as it had the day before, but the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable as he picked at the offering in front of him. He recognized one or two bits of reconstituted vegetable in the pinkish mass of meat, though which kind, he couldn't tell. Mercifully, the half-sphere scoop of potato beside it had already grown relatively cold, reducing the prominence of the smell. He still found himself put off, though, glancing over at his companion where she sat, a few bites deep into the stuff.

"You like the InstaMash, huh?" he asked, and he almost immediately regretted it when her eyes cut towards him, quickly and harshly in a way that could only say one thing:

What the hell's that supposed to mean?

Norm blinked hard in momentary panic at his own faux pas, holding his hands up in as playful a defense as he could.

"I didn't mean it like that. My bad."

She stared at him a moment longer, her gaze softening but obviously still sizing him up.

"Mm?" she replied eventually, waiting for him to better explain himself, possibly before leaving, because he somehow couldn't manage to keep his foot out of his mouth for five minutes of social interaction with her.

"I just meant you like it enough to actually eat it, which is way more than most people around here like it."

"Oh." she said flatly, seeming momentarily flustered. "Well, we don't have this stuff back at 32. You don't like it?"

He was a bit taken aback by her statement, but tucked that information away to dwell on later.

"Nah, I don't even touch it anymore. Working in the kitchens really ruined it for me, not that I really enjoyed it all that much to begin with." he said, poking at the stuff with the very tip of his fork. "Ask Lucy how many times I wadded this stuff up like a snowball and threw it at her when we were kids."

She giggled at that around another bite.

"If you want mine, you can have it. It's probably pretty cold by now but it'll go in the trash otherwise." he offered.

That earned him a smaller, more intimate smile, and her voice was softer, quieter when she replied.

"Thanks. I can't eat too much at lunch, though, or it makes me sluggish the rest of my shift. Plus, these stupid suits already fit my body weird, so if my ass gets any bigger, the bottom might not fit right anymore. Last time I asked for bigger suits I got a twenty-minute lecture about health in the infirmary."

He blinked at her in reply, completely unsure what to say, sensing a playing field full of landmines as his brain churned away double-time in a fruitless attempt to formulate a response. Thankfully, she read the blank panic on his face and granted him the mercy of preemptively cutting his reply off.

"Sorry, I'm rambling." she blushed hard, suddenly looking anywhere but at him, and for a beat he saw the same awkward insecurity he often felt himself. It was strange to see on her, but it was revealing, and it made him feel a bit closer to her. "So, you said you used to work in the kitchens before?"

"Yeah, I did. Morning shift and everything." he said, breathing a little easier at the change of topic.

Is there even a proper way to say "your ass is perfect the way it is" without getting slapped?

"Hmm." she said, pulling a face that made him chuckle. "I hate waking up early. Did you like it?"

"No."

She laughed, and it was full and relaxed instead of the uncomfortable, terse sort of chuckle he usually got back when he was honest about things.

"Well, do you like maintenance better?"

"Uh...no." he smiled guiltily, taking the smallest bite of the Cram loaf he could pick up. "I can't reach a lot of the stuff I'm supposed to do without a ton of effort. I have to open a bunch of those hatch panels for inspections and I'm not quite, uh, strong enough." he said, feeling his face warm a bit at the admission. "It's..."

"Well, putting you there kinda seems like a slight, then, doesn't it?"

"Well, you said it, not me. To be fair to them, though, they've stuck me a lot of places and I've never liked any of them." he shrugged.

She gave him an interesting, but sort of unreadable look in reply.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with trying different things to help you discover what you like." she murmured, pulling a slight face as she took her first bite of the entree. "So many people around here dig themselves deep into situations they don't want and are too afraid to start over. I admire that you can admit when things aren't working out for you."

Her compliment landed a bit strangely, but he smiled anyway and choked down another bite of the stuff himself.

For the next several weeks, things went on just like that; they ran into each other during work often, usually stopping to chat for a bit, and most days they both appeared for lunch around the same time and sat together, mostly eating in companionable silence early on. He found that he really relished being in the company of someone who could appreciate that silence instead of constantly having to fill it with chatter. However, they were both persistent in at least occasionally chipping in some pleasant conversation, and soon they'd grown fairly talkative depending on the day.

One evening, he'd worked late and was making his way back to his room, rather down that he'd gotten caught up in something and had missed his chance to see her that afternoon. However, he was very pleasantly surprised to find her standing outside his door when he turned the corner.

"Hey!" she greeted, smiling widely at him as he approached. "I missed you at lunch today!"

"Oh, yeah. I got distracted and lost track of the time." he muttered, his heart fluttering at her enthusiasm.

Her grin morphed into a mask of slight guilt.

"I hate to ask you this, but could I bug you for a favor?"

"Sure." he replied, not allowing his hesitation to slip into his voice.

"Could I use your shower real quick? I have an IT society meeting in an hour or so and my sister is hogging the bathroom in our room." she asked, tagging onto the end a rushed "You don't have to, of course. I just thought I'd ask."

"Yes." he blurted instantly, fighting a sense of panic at how his cock began to stir at the image her question kicked up in his brain.

"Great. Thank you so much. I'm gonna run and get my stuff." she beamed before turning and disappearing again, leaving Norm scrambling to check over the little apartment for anything that needed to be tossed or hidden away before she came back. Fortunately, the only objectionable objects he found in his search were a pair of used underwear on the floor near the hamper and a conspicuous bottle of lotion a bit too close to the bedside.

She knocked when she returned, a rare quality in Vault 33. He welcomed her in, keeping his eyes glued to her face to avoid shaming himself.

"Thanks again." she said, cradling a towel, a clean suit, and a bottle of standard issue body wash in her arms.

"No problem. I remember what it's like to share a room with a sister who hogs the bathroom." he replied, lingering as she stripped out of her boots and socks and sat them by the table.

She smiled at that, working her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head.

"I'm not mad at her. I remember what it's like to be eighteen." she replied, her hands moving to the collar of her suit and working the snaps open, fussing with the inner liner. "That said, I still need a shower before I have to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with someone else."

He didn't reply immediately, too captivated by the view of her slowly unzipping the suit all the way down, revealing the thin shirt she wore underneath. She didn't miss a beat, shucking the wadded-up suit down to her ankles, the blue material pooling around her feet as she stepped out of it. The younger man's thoughts almost instantly blanked out, drawn irresistibly to the new view of her bare, strong legs.

"I'll try to not make a mess." she winked playfully as she folded the soiled suit, placing it on the table as she stood there, cast in the yellow glow of the overhead light in nothing but her sleeveless undershirt and her panties. Norm's immediate instinct was to look away, but she reached out and gave him a little pat on the arm that drew his intense stare, following her along as she made her way towards the bathroom. Simultaneously cursing and grateful for the existence of the thin curtain, he watched as she drew it closed behind her. Well, mostly closed behind her; there was a generous margin of a few inches that remained uncovered at the far end, offering him a slight peek into the small room. He felt stuck, undulating between wanting to pick a seat that would allow him to sneak a glance at her and wanting to put his nose to the wall until she left. Striking an internal compromise, he took a careful seat on the couch where he couldn't see into the bathroom doorway...unless he craned his neck.

She was humming something tuneless as she lingered around the sink, likely assessing herself in the mirror. A second later, she passed by the opening, so fast he could hardly see that her back was bare, but that small peek at her previously unseen flesh instantly riled him, a heat blooming all across him as the quiet hiss of the shower head filled the place. The Overseer's son knew that he was being entirely improper, that he really shouldn't have agreed to let her do this in the first place if he couldn't control himself around her, but he couldn't turn his head away after that first glance, eyes glued to that sliver of openness. There was a sickening mix of anticipation and absolute dread that he might see something else churning deep in his core; when she turned back towards the door for another step and he could make out the side of the curve of her breast, the equilibrium was broken, and he was so awash in guilt that he was finally able to turn his head forward once more, physically nauseous at how badly he wanted her.

"Oh, shoot!" she called over the water. "I forgot a washcloth. Can I use one of yours?"

"Sure." he squeaked back, too afraid to turn his head towards the door.

For fifteen minutes or so, he sat there in limbo, trying his best to regulate his breathing and will his already throbbing cock to go down. He even turned on the television, an old western still in the tape deck from when Lucy had last come over to watch a movie. The entire film was burned clear as day into his memory, so he allowed his brain and gaze to glaze over, trying to think of anything but the naked, wet woman in the next room. Unfortunately, he failed miserably, and by the time the rainfall sound of the shower gurgled to a stop, he'd pulled a thick tome about electrical circuits into his lap to hide his shame.

He didn't rise to greet her when she exited the bathroom, tendrils of steam curling around the door frame and into the main living area. When she cut a path past the couch to say goodbye, the time for her meeting rapidly approaching, he found it hard to meet her gaze, afraid she'd sniff out what a debased freak he was. But she didn't seem to notice anything out of place, her arms wrapped around her dirty clothes, the damp washcloth sat on top.

"Thanks again! Bring you a clean one tomorrow." she promised, waving as she went by.

Feeling borderline rabid as she finally made her way out the door, his eyes were glued to her ass the moment she passed by enough to turn her back to him. The door hissed closed behind her, and he watched as her silhouette crossed the curtains, disappearing down the hall. Almost immediately, he chucked the heavy text out of his lap, the pressure on his groin offensive. The thing wobbled on the edge of the couch before clattering to the floor on its face, dog-earing a section of pages, and he let out a frustrated sigh. There was a sharp ache in his groin as he stood to collect it. He stood there, tingling with remorse and trying his best to mash and refold the pages into place with trembling hands, but he fumbled and failed, dropping the thing onto the small side table in pure frustration.

Resigning himself to his fate, he rubbed at his burning face as he made his own way into the bathroom, silently praying that he'd be able to look her in the face again after being so unhinged in her presence. The pair of them were only starting to become close, and he could feel himself actively trying his best to run her off. Pushing the curtain aside once more, he tried his best to avoid looking at himself in the mirror that sat a few inches too high above the sink. By the time he'd stripped completely, he still hadn't decided exactly how cold his shower was going to be, kicking his boots and dirty clothes into a pile in the corner near the doorway. Turning to pad across the cool tile, his rarely-exposed soles especially sensitive to the temperature, one foot suddenly landed on something thin and frictionless, sending his leg sliding out from under him.

"Oh my fucking god!" he growled, barely righting himself in time with a hand against the wall as he glared down to see which possession of his was about to be the direct target of his sexually frustrated ire. What he found, however, was a thin white slip of fabric too small to be anything of his. It appeared to be a pair of her panties.

The worn pair.

Though he'd assumed he'd long ago reached the zenith of his capacity for self-hatred, he somehow managed to drop a level deeper as he stooped to pick the things up, clenching them in his fist like they'd somehow manage to escape without missing a beat. Despite the loud, protesting voice in his brain, he couldn't hold himself back from doing what the basest part of him was demanding, lifting them to his nose and taking a deep huff. The intense ache of his neglected cock at the smell of her made him whimper pitifully, the actual shower forgotten entirely as he leaned back against the wall. His breaths were heavy, the strain only intensified by the humid air of the small space; even that was full of her scent, the familiar fragrance of the body wash in the air off by a degree in a way that could only be attributed to her. That intoxicating perfume, along with the sheer amount of blood rushing from his skull elsewhere, made his head spin, and his constantly-nagging erection twitched eagerly as he wrapped his free hand around it.

His previously overwhelming shame was shockingly absent as he began to pump himself in slow, firm strokes, breathing out her name sharply as his eyes clenched shut. The figure of her in her underwear loomed large in the forefront of his mind, the softness and curves and strength completely overpowering him and flooding his imagination with all the ways he wanted to feel her. He wanted to completely submit himself to whatever made her happy, spend all of his time and stored enthusiasm pleasing her, earning her affection and attention. The sound of the nearby shower dripping conjured images of bathing her, worshiping every single soapy inch of her with his hands and mouth, rutting his neglected cock against her leg until she allowed him to lead her to bed.

Thinking about her sinking herself down onto his cock, the resulting throb in his gut made him groan so loud he'd have been shocked if his neighbor couldn't hear through the vents. Desperate to prolong the toe-curling pleasure he felt as he continued to fuck his fist, he switched hands, wrapping the soiled fabric around his shaft and allowing the his non-dominant hand's lack of coordination to pull him back from the edge just a hair's breadth. However, a quick glance down at his own ignominy was the end of him, the embarrassment enough to viciously snatch back the small amount of headway he'd gained. As he shot all over the floor, squeezing the base of his cock hard as his hips rutted into his grip, her name tried to launch off of his tongue yet again but he refused to let it, swallowing it back in a pained gurgle.

Surprisingly, he was primarily fatigued as he released himself, a heavy shudder breaking up his spine as his the final shocks of his climax ran through him. It was only in that moment he realized just how tense he had been before, every muscle in his body aching and trembling with exhaustion. Letting out a deep sigh, he took in the mess before him, cradling the small garment in his hand and examining it for signs of his own mess.

He should have planned to tuck them into his pocket and return them to her; though it would have been a little awkward, it was almost certainly the correct thing to do. Instead, he hid them deep in his bedside table drawer and silently practiced what he would say to her if she asked about them. Returning to the scene of the crime, he yet again spent several minutes on his knees, scrubbing up his own sin off the floor with his dirty boxers before throwing himself into as hot a shower as he could stand. The heat of the water on his aching muscles was a welcome sensation, relaxing, and within a few minutes he was tiptoeing close to falling asleep, leaning against the shower wall.

Climbing into bed afterwards, his damp hair leaving a dark ring on his pillow, he stretched his arm across the empty expanse of bed next to him, and he felt lonelier than he had in a long time. Though he'd been eager to see her go so he could relieve himself, the place felt drab and empty without her.

His plan to avoid her in order to relieve himself of his obsession had been miserably unsuccessful, and he couldn't bring himself to reformulate. It wasn't difficult to see how kind and warm she was; that shone through to the very surface of her, and one could pick out that special glow from a mile away. It was one of the things he found most attractive about her (once he was able to pull his mind at least a few inches out of the filth-filled gutter). But there were so many more gorgeous aspects of her, mind and body, that he discovered with all the time they spent alone. She was also incredibly sharp-witted and funny, and though she often teased him, she was never truly mean. Playfully so, yes, and it thrilled him in a way he suspected she was aware of.

On top of everything, she was more thoughtful than he thought most people capable of. He never seemed to slip her mind like he so often did with others.

Eventually, they grew close enough that the days they couldn't eat lunch at the same time didn't hinder their time together. Instead, they would meet up in the evenings and chat while walking laps around the maintenance wing, which had initially been laps around the admin wing until a certain male transfer started working full shifts in the security office and staring them down through the window as they went by. Other days she would come to his room and they'd catch up sitting on his couch, the hum of the television in the background. One evening in particular, he'd been flitting back and forth across the little apartment, anxiously cleaning in anticipation of her visit.

"Hey." he greeted as she let herself in, dropping exhaustedly onto the couch.

She'd already tied the upper half of her suit around her waist, the thing unzipped to the navel and her hair piled on top of her head. The casual, comfortable look on her distracted him as he finished up putting yet another set of clean sheets on his mattress. Slyly, he nudged the soiled ones beneath the bed with the toe of his boot, tucking them as far back as he could and praying she wouldn't notice them.

He offered her a glass of water from the sink before joining her on the couch, passing the cup into her grip and noticing that her middle and ring fingers were wrapped up in gauze from the second knuckle down.

"Aw. What'd you do?" he asked, holding his hand out somewhat timidly and smiling when she slid her larger one into it.

"Oh, I burned myself on some live wiring like a dummy. It's not too bad. I just get my hands dirty so often and I didn't want it to get infected, so I covered it up." she said, letting him turn her injured appendage over.

"Poor thing." he hummed, stroking gently over her unwrapped knuckles with his thumb. For a split second, he was tempted to lift her hand to his mouth and give it a soft kiss. But the memory of the time he'd tried that sort of half-formed romantic gesture with Beth Cross, as well as the memory of her reaction, quickly flashed through his mind, and the urge died almost instantly. Instead, he lowered it back down to rest on her knee, but didn't pull his own away. She didn't move to reject his minuscule advance, and it made him feel ten feet tall.

For a while, they swapped stories about their days, hers much more interesting than his, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way she responded. She talked excitedly about moving into her own room, something she'd requested when her sister had expressed a desire for more privacy. He was happy for her, but couldn't shake the strange feeling of worry that washed over him when he thought about her sleeping alone in a basically unlocked room. They held hands for what felt like a long, long time before she eventually excused herself to the bathroom. He watched her go, eyes glued to the way her ample hips and ass swayed with her walk, and let out a quietly frustrated sigh as that familiar sensation deep in his gut stirred up once more.

"I'm gonna go to the social tonight. Are you?" she asked suddenly as she reemerged, pulling her hair loose from the bun that had held it and fussing with the length.

The youngest MacLean tried his best to withhold the cringe that crept up his back at the mention of one of his least favorite aspects of Vault culture. The weekly socials had been going on since before he was born, and he'd hated them since before he was even made to go. When he was young, he'd hated being left to occupy himself in his family's room while his father and Lucy attended, but once he became of age, he realized he also hated attending himself.

The socials, they'd been taught, were intended to encourage community spirit and good feeling among neighbors, as well as to allow the hardworking folks of the Vault to blow off some steam. However, what they truly were was somewhere between an insanely awkward singles' mixer and a poor recreation of the high school dances he'd seen in movies. Older members attended to chaperon and collect bits of gossip, while younger members attended in hopes of hooking an attractive spouse...and to collect bits of gossip. Norm quite literally always ended up sat at a table in the back, alone, watching Lucy and Chet and all their other peers dance and laugh and flirt, and overall just soaking in the "ghost at the feast" feeling. It wasn't his favorite thing to do by any means.

Granted, it wasn't completely unenjoyable. Sometimes there was cake.

"Nah, I literally never go to those things." he replied as casually as he could manage, willing a change in topic as she flopped back down onto the couch.

"Well, I literally never see you there, so that makes sense." she teased, leaning close and carding her fingers through his hair, sending him shivering lightly at the way her short, manicured nails scratched lightly at his scalp. "You should come down, though. My sister's working, so she can't come along to keep me company. Besides, I wanna dance and I think if I keep bugging Lucy and Betty they'll get sick of me."

"You dance with Betty?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She shrugged loosely, fully uncaring and smirking.

"She's really good! Betty's got a ton of energy for a lady her age." she said. "Plus, I can't dance with most of the guys because they instantly get super weird about it."

He didn't need to ask her for clarification, so he kept quiet, fidgeting a bit in his seat.

"Well, Lucy loves dancing and she loves making friends, so I doubt she'll get sick of you."

She chuckled briefly at that, but refused to let him evade her offer.

"Still. I'd really love it if you'd come."

It was clear that she was being serious, and it set him to fully squirming; he was unaccustomed to his presence being demanded out of desire and not obligation. Mercifully, she left it at that, excusing herself to finish up moving her things with a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek that stalled his breath in his chest. He sat in his room a while, bouncing between fiddling with his Pip-Boy and staring at the clock as the evening ticked by, jiggling his knee all the while, the time for the social drawing nearer and nearer.

There was no way he would manage to completely escape humiliation if he decided to go. Embarrassment seemed to find him easily, and he'd long accepted that as an unfortunate fact of his life. She would be pulled away, or get distracted and forget about him. Or worse, she would be with him all night and realize what a miserable bore he really was. What he had to decide was whether the likely humiliation was worth the time he might get to spend with her.

He stayed locked in indecision, frozen on the couch for far too long, and it wasn't until the social had already been going on for over half an hour that he decided to head down. The halls were largely abandoned, most people either filling the meeting hall in the admin wing or settling into their rooms for the evening, and the silence helped him calm himself as he made his way down.

This particular social was more heavily attended than he remembered them being, but with all the shuffling of personnel, he wasn't necessarily surprised...though, he wasn't exactly pleased, either. This many people meant an awful lot of watching eyes, ready to take in his failure to act like a regular person, ready to note his every little peculiarity to one another in hushed tones. It made him tense back up more than a bit as he descended the stairs, eyes scanning the clusters of folks talking and dancing, searching for her.

It took just long enough for the pit of self-doubt in his gut to start aching to find her, tucked over against the wall on the margins of the dance floor, chatting up another woman who he didn't properly recognize. Though her back was to him, he knew her shape and the shine of her hair instantly, and suddenly he didn't completely dread every moment of being there. He tried his best to weave through the crowd unnoticed, though several people made curious eye contact with him as he squeezed by, wedging himself between swaying bodies. One such body was her least favorite security officer, looming near the edge of the crowd; Norm hadn't noticed him until they'd already collided gently, the guy immediately turning his chin down towards him and glaring hard.

"Sorry." he muttered, pushing himself through the edge of the cluster and taking a moment to appreciate the free space, watching as she turned back towards the dance floor, towards him. Her face positively lit up when she saw him, her arm raising and waving at him excitedly as he closed the rest of the distance between them. Her suit was back fully in place, her hair still up, but slicked back.

"You came!" she said, her tone cheery. "I wasn't sure you would."

"Uh, yeah." he replied awkwardly, still feeling eyes on his back. "I would've felt bad if I didn't. You asked so nicely, after all."

She laughed at his non-joke, likely trying to help calm him as she took in his tense posture.

"Let's get some punch and sit down for a few minutes." she said.

The pair chatted a bit as they stood in the short line, their words mixing in with the murmur of a few dozen others.

"So..." he hesitated. "What's the deal with you and Lieutenant Hall Monitor, anyway?"

She snickered at the nickname as her eyes followed his tilting head, which made him relax one degree more. However, when the laughter faded away, she let out a sigh.

"Is he bothering you?"

"Nah, but I will say that I seem to annoy him more than usual."

There was a palpable kink in the energy between them for the briefest of seconds.

"It's not about you. We were supposed to get married last year, way before the transfer." she said, suddenly much quieter. "Obviously, we didn't end up going through with that."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong; there's a reason. It was the right thing for me. He's just...mean sometimes." she continued, to which he shook his head disapprovingly and tried to not cast a glance the guy's way. "It's awkward, you know? I was hoping I'd have a whole fresh start when I signed up to move here, but then he came along, too. I think he sees us as 'separated' and not 'over'. I was pretty pissed when I found out his transfer request was approved."

"I have to say, as someone who's been dumped before, sometimes you just have to take it on the chin." he replied, trying to inject some levity into the conversation and unable to avoid self-effacement.

"I have to save a little blame for his parents. And mine. Probably our council, too. " she sighed heavily, fiddling with her sleeve. "I got separate talks from all of them to basically tell me I didn't understand what I was doing when I called off the wedding. I'm sure he still thinks there's something up with me that I'll snap out of eventually because that's what they told him."

"That's...unhelpful."

"Yes. He was pretty upset when we broke up, though, so maybe it was an attempt at comfort. I'm not quite sure what the thought process was." she went on, very interested in the dirt under her nails. "We dated a long time, so it's a lot of history to walk away from. I get that. But we were kids when we started. I want different things now, and I had to make some changes before I got too far into a life I didn't want. Plus, I complained to my sister so much about him, and I was really afraid of what she'd take away as a lesson if I still married him."

"Ah. I understand." he said, keeping his tone casual despite all the new information turning over in his brain. He could sense unsteady ground here, and he felt guilty that he'd asked to begin with. "Well, I guess that explains why he tries to blow up my head with his mind every time we see one another now. I'm sympathetic, actually."

I'd kick myself every day if I managed to get that close to the finish line with you and still fuck it up somehow.

"Oh yeah? You want me to beat him up for you?" she offered conspiratorially, smiling again.

"I think I'll be okay." he chuckled, face hot yet again as she leaned just a bit closer. The rest of their quick wait was relatively quiet, the two of them sharing a glance that gave him goosebumps. They made their way past the big communal punch bowl and accepted cups from Reg and Betty; the older man sized them both up as they went by, but didn't comment on anything other than to say hello.

"It's good to see you participating for once, Norman." Betty said, and Norm smiled the least tight-lipped smile he could in response.

They settled at one of the empty bench tables that had been pushed to the far edges of the room, their backs to the wall as they sipped their beverages and watched everyone mingle. She seemed prone to the same sort of quiet observation he was.

"You know, I was thinking about those manuals you were reading when we first hung out." she said after a while, polishing off the red liquid in the paper cup she held. "I really could teach you about working with the terminal system if you're interested."

Embarrassed prickles broke out along his back and scalp at the warm, nostalgic feeling her bringing the incident up inspired.

"Oh, you don't have to do that." he said dismissively.

"I know. There's no rule that mandates it or anything, as far as I know." she replied, leaning on one arm and drawing herself closer to him until their legs were touching. "I'm offering explicitly because I want to. I like spending time with you."

His response caught in his throat at that, genuinely unsure how to respond to her confession. Suddenly, a new song came on over the jukebox speakers, mixed just a tad louder than the last, and her face lit up again, almost as brightly as it had when he'd entered the room.

"Oh, I absolutely love this song! Come dance with me!" she smiled, offering her hand.

"Ah, I really don't think I remember how." he chuckled awkwardly, voice slightly raised over the sound of the music. "It's been so long since I learned."

For years, Norm had been Lucy's compulsory dance partner. She'd forced him to practice every night for months until he knew all the steps to everything the first year she'd begun to attend, so he wasn't unskilled at it. But he loathed the attention he often drew from his lack of grace, hated the stories of past embarrassments that new embarrassments tended to trudge up.

"That's okay, honey! I'll lead." came her reply, his heart rate kicking up a gear at the affectionate pet name. And, true to her word, she whisked him up to his feet and tugged him a bit closer to the makeshift dance floor, lingering towards the back edge to give the two of them some space. He was even more aware of the height she had over him than normal as she stood close, guiding one of his hands to rest on her shoulder, clasping the other in hers. The soft swell of her breasts pressed lightly against his upper chest, and his whole face felt hot.

"You can lead once you get the steps back down, if you want." she murmured, seemingly mistaking his aroused distraction for embarrassment about being in the "woman's" position.

"It's fine. I seriously barely remember anything, so a little refresher would be great." he responded quickly, eager for anything else to focus on that wasn't the warmth and smell of her standing as near as she was. Fortunately, the song was jaunty, but not too fast, so they held one another loosely and trotted back and forth for most of it, the familiar pattern of steps and twirls coming back to him rather quickly. By the time the next song had begun, a bit faster, they were going along steadily, hardly missing a beat.

"You're really good!" she said, and he laughed her compliment off, working to keep his small steps in time with her larger ones. Slowly, they made their way a bit closer to the crowd, not fully folding in, but stepping nearer to joining in as they enjoyed the music. He could feel the attention they were attracting, but the way she let him cling to her made the anxiety it caused melt away.

Soon, another new song began, this one much slower and a bit sadder, but she still didn't pull away. There was a bit of a pause as she guided one of his hands down to her hip, her own coming to rest on his shoulder as she allowed him to take the lead. He wobbled a bit, his face warm, but she was patient and soon they were swaying along like it was the most natural thing in the world. As his confidence grew, he felt sure enough to guide the pair of them around a bit, twirling along with the bluesy rhythm.

As they turned, Norm could've sworn that he'd caught a glimpse of his father, leaning along the upper railing and looking down over them, but he was too caught up in the thrill of holding her like he was to bother looking back over his shoulder. He was too happy, too rarely comfortable in his body and the situation he found himself in to bother with anything else. Time was lost to him completely. When the very last song ended, she finally pulled away, but the hand that clasped his didn't, leaving them standing near the middle of the floor, fingers intertwined as the last few notes faded out.

"That was nice." he blurted, and she grinned down at him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"It was. I'm really happy you came." she said. "Do you wanna see my new room? I managed to get all moved in before I came down here." she asked. "I don't have the route quite down-pat yet, but I'm pretty sure it's not all that far from yours."

"Sure. I'd like that." he said as they made their way over to the wall again, lingering as they waited for the bulk of the traffic to empty out of the hall. He tried his best to not fidget.

They walked in easy silence for the couple of minutes it took to make it back to the dormitory wing of the Vault. As they wound their way out of the administrative section, she allowed her path to cross slightly into his, her hip bouncing into him playfully. She took it as an opportunity to grab his hand back up into hers, and he grinned at her as she wound her fingers into his. When they began to walk along the rows and rows of doors, their pace slowed, attempting to draw out their journey just a bit longer. Eventually, she stopped in front of one that didn't stand out more than any other.

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is me. Ready for the grand reveal?"

He chuckled heartily as she stood aside, sweeping her arms in a grand gesture as the door lifted itself, revealing almost a carbon copy of the room he lived in, save for a few of her personal affects already sitting around. Playing along, he gave her an appreciative clap, pretending to appraise the place from her side. It made her giggle, and the sound tinkled embarrassingly down his spine.

"I'm glad you like it." she said, stepping almost as close as she had been when they were dancing. But there was no music now, no social cover for their encroaching proximity. She didn't seem to care, though, her head tilted down towards him; somehow, she managed to look down at him without making him feel small, and it made him even more drawn to her than before. In fact, it almost seemed like she was coming closer...

Norm didn't know how to react for the first heartbeat or two of her kissing him, his brain buffering hard in disbelief. Luckily, she'd come to be somewhat familiar with his artless tendencies, and lingered long enough for him to come fully back into his own body, eventually managing to kiss back. Hesitantly, he moved one hand up to rest back on her hip, pulling her a hair closer like he had before. This spurred her into bringing her hand up to rest along his cheek, and it idled there when she pulled back.

"Took you long enough, Norm." she said suddenly, and after a hard pause, they both broke into laughter that they tried in vain to keep quiet. His heart was flying, and there was a joy pulsing in his veins that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. They lingered in her doorway together, smiling shyly at one another.

"Alright, I'd better try and get settled down. I've gotta be up early yet again." she sighed, finally taking a step into the place before pirouetting back towards him. "I'd invite you in, but I didn't get a chance to try out the shower fully before I had to go down for the social, and I got pretty sweaty hauling my stuff down here."

"Uhh..." he replied dumbly, completely fumbling his chance to flirt back by offering to share the shower in his effort to swallow back his initial response. Somehow, he'd managed to keep his cool well enough through her literally kissing him, but the thought of her all sweaty was what started getting him hard.

"See you tomorrow? Maybe after you're off we could start on some of the stuff I wanted to teach you." she cut him off, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Definitely." he mumbled out before they said goodbye. He let her door close in his face just so he could have the additional second in her presence it provided before looking both ways over his shoulder, trying to remember which way his room was in his fog of elation.

It was impossible for him to keep the big, cheesy grin off of his face as he walked, spreading so wide across his face that it almost made his cheeks ache, unaccustomed to the pressure. He was inefficient getting back where he was going, missing a turn or two in his distraction. As he rounded the corner towards his room, still high on the feeling of her pressing herself so close to him, he jumped in surprise as he nearly slammed directly into his father.

"Sorry, dad." he said. "I didn't see you coming."

"That's alright." Hank replied, smiling as his hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I wasn't expecting to see you at the social, you know. It was nice to see you making friends."

He smiled back, squirming a bit as he lifted his head to look up at him. No matter how old he got, Norm always felt a bit like a child in his father's presence.

"Yeah, I had fun. Guess all that dancing Lucy used to make me do paid off at least a little bit."

"I suppose so." he said simply. "I noticed you getting particularly close with one of our transfers. What's her name, again?"

He reminded the older man, every syllable rolling off of his tongue almost worshipfully.

"Oh, yes. The one from IT. She's very nice. I've heard wonderful things about her from Betty."

"Yeah, she's definitely right up Betty's alley." the younger man replied, nervousness churning in his stomach as he tried to find the courage to get out what he really wanted to say, eventually succeeding, though just barely.

"I, uh, think she likes me, actually." he said, fumbling just so with his words.

He'd somewhat expected appraisal from his father, maybe even some pride that his awkward, introverted son had put in some effort to socialize and had managed to eke out a mild win. But there was nothing in the Overseer's face, just the same vague smile that he usually wore.

"That's great, son. Sleep tight." he replied, lifting his hand to ruffle Norm's hair like he always had when he was a boy before continuing down the hall towards his own room.

The whole thing felt strange, but his lingering excitement from before couldn't be extinguished by that one interaction, and by the time he'd made it back to his room, he was back to obsessing over the feeling of her soft mouth on his. His father's reaction wasn't forgotten, but it ceased to matter for the moment. That night, he dreamt of following her into her room, kneeling before her and worshiping her with his mouth as she leaned against the wall, the air filled with the sounds of her pleasure as she moaned out his name.

He got his usual mid-morning start the next day, lingering around his apartment until the last moment in favor of an extended shower masturbation session. His dream was still fresh in his mind, and it was a much-needed relief of pressure. Feeling less tense than before as he made his way to the janitorial closet, he wondered, somewhat melancholic, how long into his day he would have to wait to see her.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the closet door slid open to reveal her sitting on top of a crate of cleaning chemicals. His gut and back were instantly tense again at the sight of her soft, curvy body reclined there, fiddling with her Pip-Boy as she smirked at him.

"Hey there, handsome."

"Hi." he replied, more demure than he'd wanted. "Looking for something?"

"Actually, one of the things on my list today is to go up and inspect some of the fail-safe wiring around the external door. Pretty sure there are maintenance things up there too, right?" she asked, feigning innocence in a none-too-convincing way. "Wanna come with?"

He agreed eagerly, rifling through one of the tool boxes along the wall until he found a proper wrench, setting it delicately on top of a clipboard with some inspection forms clipped to it.

"Twins!" she said, holding up her own clipboard and digging a pair of pliers out of her pocket.

The younger man smiled at that, and the two of them were largely quiet as they made their way up to the top floor of the Vault proper. When they reached the doors to the elevator that rode all the way to the surface level, he hit the button and stood back to allow her to step in first. She leaned casually against the wall, the scant lighting throwing eerie shadows around her face.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked as the doors shut behind them.

"I slept great. Nice and quiet. Way too early of a start, though. You?"

"Good. Took me a while to get settled down." he replied diplomatically, holding his things to his chest and keeping his head high, feigning some dignity.

"Oh yeah? Lonely?" she teased as her eyes sparkled devilishly at him.

"Maybe a little." he admitted, turning his eyes forward once more and watching her reaction carefully in his peripheral vision; she leaned just a bit closer for the remainder of the slightly creaky ride up.

There was something about being on the uppermost level, being so near the outside, that sent an eerie tingle up his spine. The Vault already had a certain feeling of artificiality at times, like living in a dressed-up rat cage, and being so far removed from the living quarters only intensified it. The only sound here was the hum of fluorescent lights and the whirs and gurgles of the various HVAC and wastewater systems, echoing down into the deep pit that led back into the body of the place.

Very occasionally, a rumbling could be heard from just beyond the massive gear-shaped door, low and grating like a mournful moan. His father had once explained that it was likely sand or debris brushing past the outermost door, a sound intensified in its spookiness by the way the thick layers of steel and concrete warped it. However, his mind kicked up images of radiation-ravaged cannibals, trying their best to scrape and pound their way in, and, no matter how childish it felt, it made him shudder. He was glad he wasn't there alone.

"I heard one of the girls you came here with is pregnant, but I don't remember what her name is." he said as casually as he could manage, both fishing for info and trying to will his nervous mind to grab onto something, anything else.

"Oh, her." she replied, grasping for the name herself as they made their way along the metal walkway. "Yeah, I heard. I'm happy for her, I suppose. Seems fast to me, but I try not to get too involved in conversations like that, otherwise I start getting a huge inquisition about when I'm pushing one out myself."

Norm snorted hard at her candor, and the sound made her titter, echoing through the chamber-like room, mixed with their clinking footsteps as they made their way along the thin metal catwalk.

"I can't say I relate. Discussions about wanting a baby do not usually involve me." he said rather self-effacingly.

"Consider yourself lucky." she said, eyes scanning casually along the wiring that led up to the control panel nearest the big door. "The way they talk to me about my plans for a family gives me the major creeps. I've been tricked into many a 'basic quarterly checkup' over the last few years that ended with me in stirrups being grilled about when I'm going to start having kids."

"Quarterly checkup?" he asked, feeling his eyes bulge out of his head just a bit.

She rolled her own at that.

"I know. Believe me. But you know how it is! They start going on and on about the mission, and 'the future of America lies in a healthy Vault', and all that, and you quickly get to a point where you're willing to do basically anything to make it stop." she said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess I get that." he responded dumbly. "They do tend to lay it on thick when they want something from you."

"Do you wanna know what they've tried to convince me is a 'good' number of kids?" she asked conspiratorially, her voice almost a whisper as she turned to fully look him in the eye. She had such an intense gaze that it pinned him in place, silent, for a second too long.

"How many?" he stammered out.

"Six!" she said, her eyebrows so high in emphasis that they nearly disappeared into her hair line before continuing along the way.

"No fucking way." he spat in shock, freezing for a step or two behind her.

She laughed heartily, earnestly, even more beautiful.

"I know! And the craziest part is that they sort of act like six is the ground floor when they say it. I mean, we have a built-in village to help out around here, right?" she asked facetiously, approaching the control panel and running her eyes down the paper. "Wrong! My mother had four, beginning with me, and I basically raised the last one starting around twelve because my parents had two other children to focus on. Kids take a lot of work. I wouldn't have more than I knew I could handle."

He nodded along with her words in silent support, watching her movements. As she spoke, she checked a few things off of the list in her hands before setting it aside, perched precariously along the top edge of the panel, pulling a rag from her pocket and dusting the whole thing lightly. She then set to flipping up the few safety covers that blocked the major buttons and switches, letting her fingers linger along the ones that controlled the only thing that stood between them and the irradiated outside world.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" she asked suddenly, tone rather humdrum in her focus.

Norm wasn't exactly surprised to hear that she, like Lucy, had more curiosity about what it would be like to cut out than the average Vault dweller. She was too intelligent, too analytical to live the entirety of her life in a hole in the ground unquestioningly. However, she was also brave (and possibly foolhardy) enough to seriously consider what striking out and leaving would mean. Sure, Norm may have reserved a not-insignificant part of his brain for daydreaming about what it would be like to be somewhere he felt accepted, but he felt too afraid at the unknown of what lay beyond the door to truly consider it. Besides, he knew that even if he could muster up the gumption to decide to leave, he'd only be a burden on the survival of those around him.

"In theory." he replied after a pause.

She was quiet at that, the slightest hesitation separating his answer from her flipping the covers back into place.

"Can I bum your wrench?" she requested, her hand already outstretched. He placed the one from his pocket into her grip and watched with rapt attention as she easily popped the cover to the access panel on the side of the thing open, crouching down low to reach the bolts closest to the floor. The show of strength stirred something up in him, but he remained quiet as he watched her finish up her inspection, signing off on the form when she was done.

"Alright, everything looks good on my end. Wanna check out the maintenance terminal and get outta here?"

"Absolutely."

His skin crawled in unpleasant anticipation as they made their way back towards the elevators, stopping midway at the HVAC control panel that he was supposed to inspect. He dug the wrench out of his pocket, suddenly wishing she was otherwise occupied.

"I, uh, usually have some trouble opening it." he confessed, but her smile in reply helped soothe his embarrassment.

"Lemme see how you do it." she said.

Swallowing hard, he allowed her to watch him struggle to wrestle one of the bolts loose. When he moved the wrench to the next one, she placed her hand over his, adjusting his grip further away from the head.

"Try that."

Shockingly, the additional leverage helped greatly, and the thing slid loose much easier; he opened the last three in the same amount of time it had taken him to open the first, quietly proud of himself.

"Good job!" she praised, voice peaking high, correcting herself a bit when he tittered in reply. "Sorry, I'm doing the 'mommy voice' my siblings always complain about. I have terminal eldest sister syndrome."

"Well, I suppose that's bound to happen when you're one of four. Or six. Or whatever."

Again, she laughed heartily at his snark as he checked things off his own list.

"I dunno about six. I would like to have a baby, though." she said softly, suddenly studying the series of buttons on the side panel rather closely. "Someday, with the right person."

He nodded quietly, cheeks warm as his eyes flitted around the room. Typically, this was the moment he started to feel women really pull away, the moment when they started to really think about what they wanted for their future and remembered that it wasn't him. They'd sigh dreamily, fantasizing about their future families and staring off into space. However, when his gaze moved back to her, he found her staring straight into his eyes, like she was waiting for a response from him. It took him somewhat aback.

"How do you decide who the right person is?" he sort of stammered out.

She was thoughtfully quiet for a long moment.

"I think I'll just know, you know?"

"I can't lie, that's not a very satisfying answer." he half-joked.

His quip made her cackle for a moment, her weight swaying and leaning against the rail beside her.

"I know. I'm sorry." she laughed, wiping her eyes with the side of one hand. "Do you ever think about having any kids?"

"In theory." he chuckled.

"You're cute." she smirked, leaning in suddenly to plant a series of kisses along his jaw and mouth. The proximity instantly made his knees tremble, and for a brief moment, he stumbled back towards the edge himself.

Her arm wrapped around him protectively, yanking him against her side quickly, his boots squeaking across the catwalk.

"Careful, baby. You're just the right size to go flying under that railing if you try hard enough." she fussed, her grip on him surprisingly tight as she began to rise back to her feet, dragging him along with her.

"Sorry." he muttered, face hot once more in an equal mix of embarrassment and mesmerization.

"Let's get outta here."

The two rode back down in companionable silence, but when they reached the first floor of the actual Vault once more, she gave him a little kiss on the cheek, her eyes sparkling before the two went about the rest of their shifts solo. That night, she came to visit him in his room, a stack of different hacking and programming books tucked into her arms, and the two spent the evening talking about what he wanted to learn about the comms system...thoughts which were difficult to gather and articulate with the way she let her hand massage his thigh.

Lots of their alone time became tutoring time, something he enjoyed much more than he'd thought possible; she obviously enjoyed playing the teacher role, sharing her passion with him, and he loved seeing her flex her know-how. Sometimes she rewarded him for especially impressive performances with kisses, pressing closer than she ever had before, and it made him an ever more eager student.

Eventually, they worked their way up to messing around with real machines, and he was rather flattered when she dragged a unit in pretty bad disrepair all the way to her room so that they could work on it alone. For a few days, they reviewed the different parts, the basic build of the computer, and soon he was confident enough that he asked her to let him do some of the smaller repairs.

"This drive has to be replaced, but I've gotta finish rewiring some of the stuff around it real quick before we can. See?" she asked one evening, hovering close to him and pointing a flashlight into the dark guts of the thing. He nodded, half-confident that he knew what she meant, running a finger along the drive itself to feel where it slid into its place.

"Now, I've gotta turn off the power, so don't touch the--"

The rest of her warning went undelivered as the backs of his fingers brushed right along the frayed edge of one of the live wires, the feeling hot and sharp. He let out a pitiful little yelp as he yanked his hand back, clattering it along the plastic edge of the machine's casing, the burned spot flying to his mouth protectively.

"Aww, poor thing!" she said, reaching out to cut the power to the humming box before quickly moving into the bathroom to rummage around the first aid kit stuck to the wall. He pulled himself up onto his knees, cradling the hand that was paining him to his chest as hot embarrassment encased him.

"Lemme see." she said, cradling a cool rag, a roll of gauze, and a tin of burn ointment in her hand when she returned. She crouched down towards him, but he pulled back.

"It's fine."

She frowned at that, reaching out for his hand once more.

"Just let me look at it real quick." she insisted, her fingers touching his wrist.

"I said it's fine!" he said louder, pushing back and falling onto his rump once more as a result. The fall embarrassed him further, and a warm shock of anger passed through his gut. However, the heat of rage was quickly replaced by the heat of lust as she continued to clatter onto him, pinning his body with the weight of hers. Norm laid there, eyes wide and the rest of him frozen as she rested her ass flush against his hips, one hand wrapping around his other wrist and holding it in place as the other stuck out, empty and waiting to be given what she was demanding.

Slowly, he placed his stinging appendage into hers, and she smiled almost wickedly at his acquiescence.

"Good boy." she said, turning his palm towards the floor.

She might've said something else as a follow-up, but if she did, it was completely drowned out by the way those two words rang through his mind over and over again. He tried his best to focus on her first aid efforts, appraising the reddened back of his fingers, spreading and turning them gently in hers. Unfortunately for Norm, her soft, caring attentions only added more fuel to the fire that had already been smoldering in his gut from simply being in her presence. The problem only continued to increase as she wriggled ever-so-slightly in her move to reach for the supplies once more, the sweet curve of her full ass digging in right where he both wanted and did not need it. She briefly soothed him with the cold rag, and it was the only relief he was allowed. Before she'd even started to applying the little swatch of burn ointment to the reddened skin, he'd begun to grow hard, his eyes flitting to the ceiling in abashed panic.

Mercifully, she either didn't immediately notice his lack of control or was kind enough to ignore it, focusing on tending to the small burn he'd given himself. She didn't say much as she carefully cleaned the skin. At least, that's what it felt like she was doing; he didn't allow his gaze to leave the spot on the ceiling he was fixating on, willing his cock to go down before he both humiliated himself and disgusted her. But no matter how harshly he shamed himself, how hard he dug his teeth into the meat of his cheek and forced himself to think of unpleasant things, it was overridden by his physical excitement.

The way she never seemed to properly still didn't help at all.

"I don't think it really needs to be covered unless you want it to be." she said finally, delicately holding his hand and inspecting her own work absentmindedly. "What do you think?"

He struggled to formulate any sort of reply, but the way she was smirking ever-so-slightly at him when his eyes jumped to her face against his will told him that his silence was an adequate response.

"What's the matter, cutie? Cat got your tongue?" she asked, feigning innocence in that deliciously condescending way as her hand ran further behind her, down his flank and thigh until it found his growing erection, brushing it lightly. "Or is it this?"

"Uh." he let out a truncated groan at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?"

Her question confused his scrambling brain, but the soft petting of her hand against him soothed him into placidity; clearly she wasn't offended, and he was content, though tense, to allow her to continue her experimental ministrations. Her face was almost eerily serene, watching him calmly as she teased him. Eventually, she paused the pets, feeling around until she was able to clench his lower zipper between her fingers, working the thing down until she was able to work her hand inside, gently fishing his cock out of his pants and stroking it in the relatively cool air. He was completely floored, convinced he was having an incredibly realistic wet dream, but the weight of her pressing him into the floor, the pressure of her hand around him was all too real.

"Pretty sure I never got the pair of panties I left here back. What'd you do with them?" she asked, her hand maintaining its cruelly slow pace and working him to full engorgement. He could've keeled over completely from sheer abashment in that moment, every nerve of his raw to the wind as she exposed him for what he really was. It had been so long since the incident that he'd assumed she'd forgotten about them. Subconsciously, his eyes flickered over to his bedside table, and her own gaze followed, a sadistic smile stretching across her features as she tightened her grip around him just slightly.

"You're lucky I can't get to them, or I'd shove them in your mouth." she whispered, leaning down so her lips brushed against his own with each syllable. "I bet you'd like that, though. Wouldn't you, you little perv?"

His stomach rolled and clenched as she built him up higher, her steady pace and commanding facade nearly smothering him with eroticism. Never even in his fantasies did he imagine her being like this with him, and he was instantly hooked. The tip of him, deep red in its engorgement, leaked generously, and he sprinted towards the finish as she let her hand pass over it.

"Fuck, fuck..." he whined, his hips bucking futilely under her weight, moving no further into her grip, gaining no additional friction along his aching length. "I'm so close."

"You'd better not." she said firmly, as if she were scolding him for trying to spoil his dinner with treats. Her tone made him groan, his entire face burning.

"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna be good for me?" she whispered, her lips brushing just right along the shell of his ear and sending shocks down his spine, already trembling from the loving way the pet name rolled off her tongue. He whimpered and cried out as he suddenly lost control, covering her hand in his cum as she continued to stimulate him through his overwhelmingly powerful orgasm.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't think I told you that you could do that, baby." she chastised, tightening her hand around him and stroking him faster, harder. The sensation against his sensitive cock was far too much, and he was quickly writhing and half-fighting back beneath her, his wide eyes filling with genuine tears as he pleaded for her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he begged, both desperate for her to stop and still rutting against her completely against his will. That seemed to sate her, however, as she gave him a few more hard strokes and then stopped completely, holding him tight at the base for a few seconds longer before releasing him, still leaned over and hiding most of his body beneath hers.

"Did you like that?" she asked, nibbling along the shell of his ear. He nodded pitifully in reply, most of his energy focused on not shuddering his way into more trouble, already more spent than he could ever recall being before. Her hands had become softer, the clean one petting across his chest affectionately.

"You really are lucky that I'm in a good mood today. I can be way meaner than that when I put my mind to it. It doesn't hurt that you're adorable when you beg." she grinned, and he swallowed back a groan at the remark as she used the rag she'd cast off to the side to clean herself before mopping up the errant dribbles that had splattered across his suit. It was fairly unnecessary, but she still took her time cleaning him up, her free hand scratching and petting his back and nape comfortingly as she sat curled up beside him.

He avoided her gaze at first, quite ashamed that she'd managed to unearth this desire of his that had never properly seen the light of day. However, her tender touch was a pleasant balm after how raw he'd been, and after a few minutes he was able to steal a glance at her, moving one hand to rest on her knee. Naturally, she was already watching him; however, he managed to keep his eyes on her face, not flinching away.

"You liked it? For sure?" she asked, less flirtatious and more serious.

He laughed openly at that, the sound throaty and weak as he still struggled to revive himself.

"For sure." he replied, and it seemed to make her relax a bit more, abandoning the rag on the floor and bringing both hands up to cup his face, holding it delicately. Her thumbs rubbed softly along his temples, and he let his lids slide shut

"Boy, you sure seem like you're enjoying yourself." she laughed playfully, his weight lilting further and further towards her touch.

"Shut up." he muttered jokingly, squirming just a bit, but unable and unwilling to pull away.

"You're gonna kick yourself so hard when I tell you that I've been trying to do that to you for months. Gotta quit playing so hard to get, MacLean."

"I dunno if I'd call it 'playing hard to get'." he replied, cracking an eye open at her once more.

Another inscrutable look passed across her features at that, but he wasn't given much time to study it as she leaned in and gave him a series of light pecks across the mouth, drawing a smile from him.

"Do you want me to...?" he asked.

"Oh, I definitely do, but we have places to be, unfortunately." she said, nodding towards the clock ticking away on the wall.

"Ugh."

"I agree, trust me." she sighed, pulling herself up before offering him her hand. "I'll put it on your tab."

His legs were wobbly as he tried to fully right himself, still clenching her hand until he felt he could stand fully. Even then, he hesitated to let go. They left for the town hall separately, his companion slipping out into the hall with a secretive little smile at him as she let the door fall shut behind her. The meeting was nothing special, weekly updates and a few mundane announcements that flew in one ear and out another, all free space in his mind occupied by thoughts of her soft hands on him, the way she'd spoken to him and commanded control of his body like she had. Her presence right across the aisle didn't help.

But, of course, his brain couldn't allow him to simply soak in his pleasurable encounter with a pretty woman; there also had to be a healthy dose of self-doubt and retroactive embarrassment that leaked in, making him worry that he'd made himself look foolish, desperate in front of her. Or worse, that she was playing some sort of game with him, using him to entertain herself while she waited for a proper guy to come along. It wouldn't be the first time he'd entered into an entanglement of questionable intent.

He knew that if he fixed his mouth to claim out loud that any woman, ever, had used him for sex, he'd be laughed out of the Vault. However, that didn't mean it wasn't true.

Most of the women he'd hooked up with in the past were married at this point, or had transferred out to try and luck their way into a spouse after finding their options at home rather unsatisfactory, himself included. But he'd always been at least a little surprised at how easy it was for him to find women who wanted to sleep with him...just as long as he didn't get any ideas about things going anywhere, that is. People in the Vault were prone to boredom in their confinement, and casual sex was a fairly widely accepted way to combat it. But there were only so many potential partners of the desired gender for each person, and that fact bolstered Norm's desirability considerably. Sometimes having the right equipment and not being related to the person was enough for the moment.

Norm was not a breeder, though; that much had been made perfectly clear to him from the first time he'd ever had sex. And sure, the hard, logical part of his brain understood why the women who were willing to sleep with him weren't necessarily eager to settle down or reproduce with him; he wasn't exactly the sort of man that his female peers had been raised to see as desirable. Though he didn't find himself ugly by any means, he was small, not very strong, and not exactly enthusiastic about many of the things that the average young Vault dweller prioritized in their lives. He considered himself a decent lover (when given the time of day, of course), but being able to show someone a good time during the actual act didn't seem to count for as much as he'd thought it might.

It was because of this that his past encounters had often ended rather suddenly, girls pulling away awkwardly when he seemed to toe too close to orgasm during actual sex, or making excuses to leave once he'd already taken care of their needs. Both stung, wounded his already often well-flogged ego, but the latter bothered him a hair less, purely because he didn't enjoy the idea of anyone going all the way with him simply because they felt obligated. He wanted to be wanted, and being with her was the first time he'd truly felt it in his life. She never shied away from his kisses, never acted as if his touch bothered her. When they fooled around, he never felt the invisible wall between them that he always felt with others.

One one hand, he was somewhat grateful to know with certainty that she wasn't just using him for sex. On the other, he felt like he was dying to be inside her. They saw one another almost every night, had intimate physical contact more often than not, but it never went further than a one-sided slam hit to third base. Though he ached for more, he was grateful for what he was given.

Somewhat gradually, the pair of them were more and more open about their relationship. Their evening study sessions continued, her manual motivation continuing in regular intervals until he'd built up some tolerance. Eventually, her lessons became more orally based. The increasing physical intimacy between them showed in how close they often stood, sat. Granted, they'd never really made efforts to hide how close they were becoming, but they'd reached a point where they sometimes held hands when they walked in the hall, attended more socials than not to dance and hold one another close. She even grew comfortable enough to swap seats in the meeting hall, inserting herself in the seat between he and Lucy one morning and drawing even more stares than he'd anticipated. Even Hank seemed to be staring down intensely at the two as he delivered his usual announcements.

That day's meeting dragged on longer than usual, and by the time the two gave one another a quick peck goodbye on their way out the door to their daily assignments, he could swear all the eyes on his back had burned holes in his suit. She was lingering around in the guts of the place for the day, trying to sniff out any weaknesses in the backup life support system. For his part, Norm had to go up top alone, back to inspect the same panel she'd kissed him at before. He was much less excited to do so without her company.

The ride up the rickety elevator was much more nerve-wracking solo, every little sound and weird vibration making him nervous that the blasted thing was about to fall back down the shaft. His posture stiffened even further for a moment when the elevator doors clunked open and he could make out another person at the far end of the catwalk, right up against the door, standing tall with their back to him. He relaxed momentarily when his eyes focused in on the standard-issue blue of a Vault suit, that golden 33 emblazoned on the back, but he felt himself tense again when he realized who exactly he was approaching.

Lieutenant Hall Monitor seemed to be completing some sort of security checklist, a clipboard of his own clutched in hand as he swept his gaze back and forth across the enormous hatch. His aura had been more tense than usual as of late, but this was the first time the two men had been entirely alone.

The guy had never demonstrated before that he cared about Norm's existence, but the way he glared back at him as he tried his best to give him a polite, acknowledging nod communicated new developments on that front. The relative silence, save for the usual hum and whir of uncovered machinery, only fueled the tension. He tried to shake off the nasty look, stopping halfway along the narrowest part of the walkway to check the same HVAC control panel as usual. Crouching down to pop open the face plate, adjusting his grip on the wrench just like she'd shown him, he was making relatively quick work of the whole thing, rushing to get the hell out of dodge and away from the oppressive awkwardness of the situation. Lunch with her would be a welcome way to unpack this ugly incident.

Down the path, the other man finished up his own work, jotting a few things down before ending with a test of the klaxon and light system that was tied to the door. The yellow lights fluttered to life and flashed, the shrill cry of the sirens splitting the air and drowning out every other sound. Noting him making his way back, the younger MacLean slowed his hands, drawing out his work so that the two wouldn't have to share a ride down in the elevator. Security was supposed to wait around until the full test cycle had completed, but Norm didn't necessarily blame him for leaving, between the headache-inducing sirens and the rancid vibe of the room.

As the silent, larger man passed by, though, Norm felt him lean out and check his side, causing him to stumble sideways from his squatted position and very nearly fall, his head sailing beneath the lower hand rail and dangling for a paralyzing beat over the open concrete pit that made up the body of the rest of the Vault; the terrified scream he let out was drowned out entirely by the still roaring klaxon. The fall had to be well over a hundred feet, and peering downwards into it, truly seeing it, his fingers aching sharply as he maintained his grip on the rebar railing, his head spun violently. Flinging himself back with all the strength at his command, he landed rather painfully on his side and temple along the walkway, panting and trembling. The wrench he'd been reaching for tumbled over the edge, not making an audible sound as it sailed to the floor far beneath.

The guy never even stopped, never looked back over his shoulder at the contact. It was only when the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside that he turned and looked at Norm again, his eyes full of absolute hatred as he glared him down, pinning him to the ground with his gaze until the doors slid shut. The alarm stopped a moment later, but the his ears continued to ring, his whole body limp and unresponsive as he laid there, too shocked to move. He didn't feel like he lost consciousness, but seemingly a split second later, a soft, strong pair of hands was trying their best to shake him awake.

"Norm? Norm!"

Her voice was distorted as he came back to himself, his head throbbing painfully

"Sweetheart, what happened? I've been looking for you. Your poor face!" she fussed, touching gingerly around his brow and sending him flinching away.

"Sorry I missed lunch." he replied quietly.

"Come on."

She helped him to his feet and back towards the elevator, holding him up as his head spun. The ride down was silent, heavy, and she helped him slowly make his way to the infirmary. The nurse examined him, checked him for a concussion and deemed him well enough before giving him something for his pain and leaving them alone, the curtain around his bed in the corner drawn tight. He'd told her that he'd fallen doing some repair work and she didn't ask many questions. His companion was silent the whole time, never leaving his side and rarely releasing his hand, but clearly deep in worried thought. Once they'd been left alone a few minutes, she finally spoke up.

"What really happened?" she asked.

He told her as best as he could remember, not mincing words.

"I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." was her only response except scooting her chair closer to the bedside, both of her hands clasping tightly around his left one. He didn't know what to say to that, still a bit dizzy and rapidly growing sleepy from whatever analgesic he'd been given, so his only response was a mild squeeze to her fingers. Tottering in and out of sleep on the cot, he was vaguely aware of some commotion in the front of the infirmary a while later; though he could barely make out a lot of what was said, some of it filtered though, mostly the few sentences exchanged between a familiar male voice and that of the frustrated nurse.

"You need to let me look at your nose. Please, sit down." she demanded after the scuffling sound of a chair or table skidding a few inches across the floor, the screech of which woke him for a split second.

"Don't touch me. They'll look at it at home. " came the reply, followed by more scuffling and some cursing.

Part of Norm's brain registered the commotion and tried to force him to rise, but he was barely able to squirm as he rapidly fell back into unconsciousness. When he finally felt steady and awake enough to lift his head, he was alone. Checking his Pip-Boy, he confirmed he'd been asleep a few hours, and his legs were wobbly as he tried to right himself. The halls were quiet, abandoned as they usually were in the evenings as people settled in with those they cared about the most. Even the infirmary was empty, the lights all turned off save for a lamp on the reception desk. Some of the furniture was a bit ajar, some bloody tissues filling the trash can nearest the door as he moved towards it. Turning into the hall, he had to pause for a minute to get his bearings and remember which direction the dormitory was.

When the door to her apartment slid open, he found her sat at the dining table, suit tied back around her waist once more and a tired expression on her face as her dominant hand rested in a bowl of ice water.

"Hi." she said, her smile a little less effervescent than usual as he approached. "I was just about to come check on you."

Moving to stand beside her, he took in just how swollen her entire hand was, her knuckles already heavily spotted with black and deep blue. There was an angry tightness in his chest at the sight. Seeing her injured spread a sour taste through his mouth, pulling it into a deeper frown.

"You didn't have to do that for me." he said flatly.

"It wasn't for you. It was for me."

Norm was silent for a beat, his only response.

"Well, that's a fib. It was a little for you, too." she said, her words tinted with guilt. "You don't have to worry, though. He's going back to 32. Honestly, he's probably already gone."

He didn't know what else to say. He'd hurried to her as soon as he'd woken up, but now he had difficulty even looking at her without the rotted core of self-hatred that sat deep inside him screaming out. Every thought of his was tainted with the poison of how worthless he felt compared to everything she could be giving up to be with him. He wasn't worth literally fighting over.

"I'm gonna go back to my room and lie down."

Her brow furrowed strongly at that, and she quickly stood, pulling her dripping, blotchy hand from the water.

"Oh. Okay, sweetie. I'll walk you there." she said, worry leaking its way further into her tone and gaze.

He allowed her that, though he knew he didn't deserve her company, feeling lowly and pitiful as they walked in silence a few halls down and over from hers. When they reached his door, he stopped outside and looked at her.

"Thanks for walking me. I'm gonna get some rest."

She looked disappointed that he was essentially telling her to leave, but, as always, she respected him, nodding softly as her hand reached out towards him.

"Okay. I'll check on you tomorrow. I hope you sleep okay." she said, smiling as best as she could for him.

With that, she turned and made her way back to the short stairs, hesitating for just a moment to cast a glance at him over her shoulder. It made his chest ache, but he held himself back from going to her. All he wanted in that moment was to hide away from the overwhelming embarrassment and shame that threatened to smother him from every angle.

Stripping naked and throwing himself into bed, he winced as he attempted to lie on his usual side and felt the ache of the bruising along his cheek and eye rest against the pillow. He tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position or ignore the nagging pain in his face. Though he'd slept a while in the infirmary, it hadn't been of quality, and he was quickly exhausted again, his brain demanding rest and his body too uncomfortable to provide it.

Eventually, he managed to fall into a fitful, light sleep, but his overworked brain immediately threw him into a mix of hardly strung together, stressful thoughts, the image of dangling over that pit running over and over again before his eyes and sending him flailing back awake in a panic. He was coated in flop sweat, his hair damp as he trembled hard. His heart raced.

He was petrified, and he was alone.

Curling back up painfully under the blanket, he toed the awful line between resting enough to experience some sort of recuperation and staying awake enough to stave off the nightmares. Intermittently, he let his mind wander to where he really wanted to be: cuddled up against her chest as she held him through this.

At one point, near dawn, he nearly broke, nearly drug himself back to her, the knowledge that she would let him in even if she'd been dead asleep a massive temptation. However, she deserved better than to see him the way he was in that moment. When a more appropriate hour finally, blessedly arrived, he barely took the time to dress himself before hustling out the door, desperate to see her, to apologize for pushing her away even a little because of his own fragile ego. He was ready to give her all of himself, including the parts he wasn't so proud of.

However, he didn't quite make it there, as the moment his door opened, he was greeted by the sight of his father, leaning somewhat casually against the wall and smiling as he nearly ran right into him.

"Morning, son. Let's have a little powwow in my office." he said, clapping his hand across his thin shoulder.

Norm didn't protest, simply allowed himself to be pulled along on an almost entirely silent walk to the administrative wing. Multiple people greeted the older man as they passed by, many bidding for more time with him later. One or two attempted to initiate longer conversation with him as the pair walked, and Hank expertly delayed them, sending them away satisfied with a smile. The entire time, he hardly cast a look at his son, simply kept that hand resting on shoulder to ensure he didn't disappear.

Eventually, the two entered the large suite of connected spaces that made up the Overseer's office. He was guided into the chair directly across from the big desk, feeling smaller by the moment as his father slid into his own chair a few feet away.

"How're you feeling?" he asked after a pause.

"My face hurts, honestly. I didn't sleep very well. Dreamt I was falling." his son replied honestly, every nerve in his body raw in more ways than one.

"Aww, poor thing." the Overseer replied, and it was almost, almost like he was mocking him. "Hopefully you'll mend up soon."

Norm didn't have a fast enough response to that, and he quickly moved on.

"Well, as I'm sure you've heard, one of our newest security officers has decided to transfer back to Vault 32."

"I did hear about that." he replied carefully.

That earned him a smile, a correct answer in the bag.

"You understand the importance of what we're doing here. I know how smart you are. It's important that we utilize everyone we have to the best of their ability here, right?"

He nodded along obediently, his heart rate slowly ticking upwards.

"Well, we can't afford to lose good personnel over interpersonal drama."

There was a hard silence after that, Norm's brain overheating as he tried to reason away the realization that was beginning to dawn on him. He'd been brought here for a very specific reason.

Good personnel?

"I don't understand. I'm the bad guy here because that jerkoff decided he wanted to run off back home?"

That caused the first crack in his father's pleasant facade, his smile falling for a solid second before returning, softer, less applied.

"It's important that we all work to get along here. You know that. I simply cannot have you starting drama and getting into fights over girls. It's really not becoming of a young man in your position." his father said, delivery not unlike when he had to chastise the whole Vault for something, sympathetic but deeply detached.

"Fights? Drama? Dad, he tried to kill me."

"Oh, Norm. Now you're being a little dramatic, no?" Hank replied, his eyes actually rolling skyward at his son's claim.

"Absolutely fucking not! He pushed me and I very nearly fell! Check the cameras!" Norm shot back, his voice shooting up an octave in pure, shocked outrage.

"First of all, watch your mouth. I know I taught you better than that." his dad glared for a moment. "Secondly, I already checked them. I'm sure it felt very scary in the moment, but he bumped you, you over-corrected, and you fell down. It really is that simple, bud. I know it's embarrassing, but no one almost died."

"Dad, I know this whole thing's been a lot, but I don't think I've done anything wrong. Us being together won't cause any more issues, I promise." he shot back, face growing hot at the desperation leeching its way in.

"The two of you just aren't a good fit, kiddo."

"I don't think that's true at all." he refuted, nearly begging.

"And I understand that you believe that. Sometimes it's hard to see the truth when it comes to ourselves."

His words stung more than the young man had previously thought anything could.

"So...you expect me to go break up with my girlfriend because you don't think we're a 'good fit'? That's the purpose of this meeting?" he asked, not stammering in his flustered state for once in his life. He stared straight into his father's face, unblinking, bolder than he'd ever been as his panic began to morph into blanked out anger.

The smile that touched Hank's lips once more was the same one he'd seen a million times since childhood; the one that had greeted him each morning, soothed his many worries, warmed his bad days. The one that had comforted him when his mother had died. But for the first time, he could see it clearly, that glint of scorn in his father's eye, and it was directed right at him.

"I expect you to do what's best for everyone, and I know that I've raised you to know what that is." the elder man said, rising once again from his place behind his desk and moving to seemingly tower over him. His tone was hard, final. "The purpose of this meeting is for me to tell you that I believe you'll do the right thing."

The grip of his hand around the smaller man's upper arm was shockingly painful, and he swallowed back a sharp complaint as he was basically dragged to the exit of the Overseer's work quarters. None of what was happening felt real as he was thrust back out into the hall.

"Talk to you later, kiddo. I've got work to do."

And with that, Hank MacLean allowed his office door to slide shut in his son's face.

Norm stood there in complete shock for a moment, half-expecting to wake up from this incredibly unsettling dream he was having any moment. But he didn't have that sort of luck. His boots felt like they were full of lead as he made his way towards her apartment; it was as if he was marching to his demise, walking the plank with a sword right at his back, and for the first time in his life it seemed as if everyone he passed stared at him. He absentmindedly wondered just how much everyone else knew, but a deep part of him knew his rumination to be completely useless; naturally, everyone probably knew everything the moment it happened.

Hesitating for a full minute, he actually knocked on her door, which she clearly found odd by the confused expression she wore when the thing opened. She had her suit tied down around her waist and her hair tied up in her usual leisure time style. Seeing her effortless beauty broke his heart.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, doing away with niceties as her heckles were clearly raised.

A second passed, then two, and he still couldn't force himself to speak.

"What's going on, Norm?" she asked, her voice full of worry.

The words wouldn't come, neither the ones he was supposed to say, nor the ones he truly wanted to. He tried his hardest to force them forward, to stop being so fucking scared, but it was as if his jaw was rusted shut. A light sweat glistened on his brow.

"Come in, hon." she said quietly, moving to his side and placing her hands softly on his shoulders, steering him in through the doorway and guiding him over towards the couch that was almost identical to his. She clasped his hands in hers and he tried to handle her bruised appendage carefully as they both sank down onto the broken-in cushions. She didn't prompt him to say or do anything else, patiently sitting in the somewhat tense silence as he tried to collect himself, and he stared hard right into the face of the woman who was trying to comfort him, the woman he loved. The one he'd been sent here to end things with because he simply did not deserve her. He felt as much as he took in the disquiet in her eyes, the concern for him and his wellbeing that he hadn't seen for even a moment from his own father.

She caught his gaze for a moment as it danced around the room in panic, and the worried look that painted her face sent his stomach dropping like a stone in guilt. It was all too much, and suddenly he was sobbing, his vision quickly blurred with tears and then completely obscured by his hands coming to cover his face in shame.

Of course he was crying. He couldn't grow enough of a spine to tell his father what he really thought, nor could he suck it up enough to just fall in line and do what he was told. Instead, he did nothing; his life felt like it was suddenly and totally falling apart around him, and all he could do was fucking cry.

"Hey." she murmured, almost immediately pulling her hands away so she would wrap her arms around him.

The plush mass of her breasts against his chest cushioned him as she patted at his back, the familiar smell of her encompassing him, his racing heart slowing just a touch. Norm shifted himself a bit, unconsciously leaning closer, drawn towards her warmth and almost maternal softness. As he moved, the building pressure in his gut was suddenly brought to his attention, and searing humiliation washed over him. The feeling didn't improve when she petted at the back of his head tenderly, pressing his face further into her neck. The heat from his cheeks must have been palpable to her, he thought, burning against her skin.

For an indeterminate number of minutes, she let him fuss and sniffle without a word, and eventually the world felt a little less like it was literally about to end, a small, hot coal of embarrassment firing up in his core. Displacing, he pressed a few soft kisses along her shoulder, and she hummed approvingly. His face was the perfect height to fit into the crook of her throat, and he drank in her smell greedily as his lips sealed themselves to the warm skin there. A surprised gasp left her, trailing off into an airy moan as his tongue began to massage the flesh in his mouth; the sound made his cock jump, and he was suddenly, intensely aware of just how hard he really was. With a finger under his chin, she guided his mouth up to hers and kissed him deeply. Their bodies were pressed as close as possible in their fight to claim one another's mouths, and his entire being felt hot with embarrassment at the way his erection was suddenly grinding into her stomach, but he couldn't pull himself away from her.

Besides, the way she led his hands to her breasts, squeezing them over the soft masses until he was mimicking her motions and moaning as he did, told him she didn't mind.

He was eternally grateful that he didn't have to wrestle with her upper vault suit, far too worked up to navigate the zippers and snaps. The white undershirt she wore was quickly rucked up; the exposed skin of her lower throat and chest drove him mad, her torso completely bare save for the beige-colored, standard brassiere she wore beneath. Lost in the fever pitch of their kisses, he felt bold enough to push the thing out of the way, crowding it up towards her collarbones along with her shirt hem. She cried out as the band caught over her peaked nipples, and the sound made him hum deeply in his throat, his head dropping heavily to her chest.

She had much larger areolas than he'd imagined she would, and something about that little surprise really turned him on, the darkened circles standing in delicate contrast against the rest of her chest. The skin was velvety against his tongue, and it made him greedy, sucking the entire tip of her breast into his mouth harshly. That earned a sharp whine from her, and it made him pull back just a hair's breadth. The sound she'd made was incredibly sexy, but he didn't relish the idea of hurting her.

Time as an overall concept was lost to Norm as he hovered over her, trying his best to not let his bony appendages dig into her soft body as he lathed her entire chest in attention, sucking and nipping and rubbing softly, the warm globes large enough to fill each of his hands entirely. She relaxed back onto the couch fully, elevated up against the arm just enough to watch as he bathed her with his mouth, cooing and scratching his scalp gently. The sensation of her nails on him made him throb even harder, and he moaned around the nipple in his mouth.

Eventually, though, her hands slipped down from his head and rubbed affectionately across his chest; it took him a surprisingly long time to fully process that she was working his suit open, struggling with the intricate inner snaps just like he would've. He tried his best to hold himself up enough that her hands could reach between them, but that was all the aid he was able to offer. Eventually, she succeeded, pulling the zipper down as far as his navel, reaching inside and running her nails along his chest, scraping between his pectorals through the sleeveless shirt he wore beneath.

Electricity running along his spine once more, he kicked his boots off, the heavy things clattering to the floor as he pulled himself down onto the dense rug as well, scooting towards the couch. He encouraged her to sit back up, his hands tugging at her waist until her tailbone rested along the edge of the frame, her thighs encasing his small body. Lifting her leg with her help, he ran his lips along her inner thigh, drawing a licentious giggle from her as she squirmed at the ticklish sensation, wriggling her way down a bit further so she could lift her hips towards him, watching him closely as he continued to tease her.

Well, truth be told, it wasn't entirely teasing. Part of it was, sure; it was pretty addictive to be the person getting to touch and taste her, to be the one drawing the sounds she was making out of her. He'd been at her mercy so many times, and it was empowering to have turned the tables, at least for a moment. But, at the same time, part of his brain was also simply short-circuiting at being given the access to her body that he'd been literally dreaming about for months.

"Ah, fuck." she breathed as he let his lips ghost over her mound, over the incredibly damp gusset of her underwear, both of them shuddering. His head was already spinning as he was immersed deep in the familiar, concentrated musk of her, and he was unable to hold himself back much longer, fingers moving to pull the cloth to the side. Hesitating only a moment, letting his warm, harsh breath blow across her already swollen clit, her entire body was tense as he first let his tongue peek out to taste her.

Whimpers rang out from her as his tongue softly traced over her most sensitive place, lapping at her carefully as he spread her open a little more, slipping his tongue further into her folds. She gasped, her hips slowly beginning to rock. Her movement drove him crazy, and his self control teetered on the edge as a result.

Licking her greedily, desperate for more, he tried his best to tug her as close as he could get her. Fortunately, she registered this desperation, her free hand moving to press gently, but firmly, into the back of his head, smothering him just right between her thighs. Thanks to the taste of her, her reactions, and the increasing lack of oxygen, his erection was throbbing rapidly, trapped painfully between his suit leg and his thigh. The hand that wasn't occasionally playing with her clit moved to press at it, relieving some of the unbearable pressure that was building as he slowly stroked himself back and forth over the fabric. His partner was far too busy bucking her hips into his face to notice, the hand on the back of his head pressing him harder and harder to her cunt as she basically rode his nose, the tip and far end of the bridge slipping slickly back and forth across her swollen bud. He made absolutely no move to resist or readjust, only lapping at what he could reach as she rode closer and closer to her climax. His tongue slid back towards her puckered second hole, pulling a sharp giggle from her as he stroked the tip along the quivering ring of muscle.

During their past trysts, it had been rare for her to be the receiving partner. Whether that was because she didn't feel comfortable in that role, or because she felt very comfortable being the one in control, he had been unable to discern. She had occasionally rubbed herself along his thigh or crotch when they'd messed around, but he'd always perceived that as less of a way to make herself feel good and more of a way to tease him. Now, though, she eagerly welcomed whatever he was willing to offer her, both of them working in narrowly-focused tandem towards their shared goal.

"Just like that." she sighed, sharp and airy, tensing noticeably as he sealed his mouth over her and lapped at the same spot repeatedly with the tip of his tongue.

Norm tried his best to avoid speeding up or losing his rhythm in the wave of excitement he felt at knowing he was pleasing her, taking as deep a breath in as possible as she continued to smother him between her thighs. His cock ached almost oppressively as she bore down on him harder, harder, until suddenly she let out a quiet gasp, hips and abdominals twitching hard as the taste of her grew stronger in his mouth.

It seemed like she wriggled and whimpered for a long time, but the lack of oxygen to his brain may have simply made it feel that way. Every fiber of muscle in his body burned with the effort of keeping himself in his spot, continuing the same motions until she stopped him with a soft palm.

"Fuck, Norm." she sighed, smiling as her head fell lax behind her.

He snapped out of his place on the floor at that, like a well-trained dog given a clear command. He was almost aware enough to be embarrassed at the way he pounced on her, trying his best to not trample her completely as he pulled himself back up onto the couch, the frame giving out a little strained squeak at the sudden addition of his weight. Sealing his lips back to her throat, now slicked and salty with sweat, he guided her down onto her back, flat on the cushions, and she followed his lead, her still-watery eyes shining excitedly.

Norm wrestled his sleeves down, shucking his suit to the waist and cramming it down to his hips; her feet came up along his flanks and pushed the thing the rest of the way towards his ankles. As he kicked the mass of cloth to the ground, her fingers played along the waistband of his underwear, teasing ticklishly along until they slipped beneath, grasping his erection softly and making him moan rather loudly as his last garment was wrestled out of the way.

He was too aroused to be all that self-conscious about being completely naked in front of her, something that was not common practice for him. Instead, he was entirely focused on the breathtaking view before him, her plush body laid out before him, basically begging for him just like he'd dreamed about again and again. Goosebumps were still raised along her arms as she shifted a little, moving to pull off her own remaining bit of coverage. Something moved him to cover her hands with his own, and together they slid her panties down to her ankles, Norm working them the last few inches past her feet and dropping them to the floor.

"I want those ones back, perv." she teased, and he laughed earnestly as he lowered himself down to kiss her again.

"You're so beautiful." he whispered.

Both of them groaned when the tip of him first nestled up against her, the heat of her folds even more intense than he'd ever imagined. Letting himself indulge in a bit of his own teasing, he rocked his hips back and forth, allowing his cock to bump and nudge against her puffy clit. Unfortunately, he lacked the determination to draw out the turnabout he was attempting to give her, and quickly he was reaching between them to seek out her opening.

"Yes, yes, yes..." she breathed over and over like an elated prayer when he began to apply pressure with his hips in just the right place.

He wanted so badly to bury himself to the hilt inside her in one swift move, but he fought hard to resist the urge, pressing about halfway inside before pulling back, gently pistoning himself deeper until he was buried as far as her body would allow him to go. A deep, long-held breath escaped his lungs, his spinning head falling weakly towards her shoulder as he allowed them both a moment of adjustment; he was afraid of accidentally hurting her somehow in his excitement, but most of his worry stemmed from the fear of losing control long before he was ready and embarrassing himself. The latter possibility loomed larger over him than the former as her strong, pliable body wriggled beneath him.

She was almost eerily silent as he carefully shifted the bulk of his weight from knee to knee, but he found himself afraid to steal a glance at her face. His heart raced at the at the feeling of her around him, at the fear that any moment she'd come to her senses and reject him at last. But her softly calloused hands smoothed their way up the planes of his back, wrapping themselves up under his arms and coming to rest atop his narrow shoulders, holding him close against her. That little bit of affection was enough to ease his nerves, and he allowed his hips to move a little faster as a result.

"Mhm." she grunted as he slowly began to fuck her properly, keeping his face mostly hidden in the crook of her neck in trembling concentration. That one small sound spurred him on, hands moving to softly grope at her breasts and tummy, the plush flesh in his hands making him throb hard inside her. Soon, she was letting a whole litany of sighs and whimpers loose, each sound vibrating its way down his spine and leaving his grasp on his self-control tenuous. He tried in vain to pull back from her a bit, sucking in fresh air by the lungful, but he was already lost in her, melting at the way she clung back to him, fluttering around him and making him whine.

She nuzzled up under his chin in response, made him feel substantial and masculine and desired, and it only made it more difficult to govern himself, his grip digging so hard into the arm rest of the couch above her head that his fingers ached, using the leverage to fuck her as forcefully as his small frame would allow him to. The woman beneath him let out a guttural grunt at that, her hands flying to his back, nails digging into his sparse flesh in an attempt to steady herself. The stinging trail of pain that her touch left bloomed down his spine and only spurred him on harder, the hand that wasn't tearing into the couch arm moving between them to roll her throbbing clit between his fingers. Quickly, that stimulation had her huffing along with him, their bodies hot and sticky against one another.

"Shit, I'm--" he muttered as she arched her back high and hard.

"Yes!" she gasped, her hips grinding even more passionately against his and tightening the knot that was growing at his core. Mesmerized by her tear-filled eyes and pouty lips, he dropped his mouth back to hers and they kissed one another breathless. Just before he tipped over the edge into his orgasm, he yanked himself back, fisting his slick cock fast and hard until he exploded all over her, painting her soft tummy and inner thigh with spurt after spurt of his warmth. She whimpered at the feeling, fingers rubbing harsh circles around her clit until she was spasming hard.

The heat of her sweat-slicked, nude body encompassed his own as he laid himself softly against her in the afterglow, her rumpled hair soft against his face, his head tucked up underneath her chin. The small apartment was quiet for a long moment, both of them trembling as they tried to slow their heavy, rapid breaths. He braced himself for her to pull away, to cover herself and shut him out, but she didn't move outside of pulling herself into a sitting position beside him, his head on her shoulder.

"I really like you." he said suddenly, the words materializing almost out of nowhere.

"I really like you, too." she replied, running her hand softly, lovingly up and down his bare back.

For a few minutes, no one said anything more, both simultaneously enjoying the glow and worrying away about the still-concealed source of tension.

"So." she said eventually, playing distractedly with his dampened hair, "Are you gonna tell me what you came down here for?"

Despite the lingering heat between their bodies, Norm felt himself break into goosebumps at her query. He forced himself to look at her, steeling himself against the anguish that was still stirring, sour and potent, in his gut. There would be consequences for this, and he knew it.

"My dad pulled me into his office and advised me to tell you that we can't see each other anymore." he spat out so quickly that it was almost unintelligible.

For an extended moment, her only response was silence. She didn't even blink.

"What are you thinking about that advice?" she asked, her face unreadable. Though he sort of expected her to ask why, she did not. He didn't know how it made him feel.

"Well, 'advised' is doing a lot of work in that statement." he replied with some levity.

She laughed at that, seemingly despite herself.

"Norm." she said simply, her tone firm. She refused to let him joke his way out of discussing his feelings and it made him squirm in his place.

"I don't want to stop seeing you."

That made her smile, but he could still see something off in her gaze as she scooted a bit closer to him, their bare hips touching.

"I don't wanna stop seeing you, either." she sighed. "But honey, I don't wanna cause any problems between you and your dad. It'd tear me up."

"Eh, my dad is used to me not doing what he wants. One more disappointment won't be that much of a surprise." he replied, trying his best to make himself believe it, too. True, Hank had watched his son fail to meet his expectations his whole life, but he'd never been openly defied like this. The younger man had no basis to determine how his father might react.

"Well, good." she smiled, and it almost seemed as if she was buying his bluster. "I'm too stubborn to actually stop seeing you, anyway."

"Same."

Things fell into silence again after that, the two young people cuddled up close on the couch that had probably been used by ten different people, a slight chill setting in as the heat of their activity slowly began to wear off.

"Quite the mess you've made here." she mused eventually, her fingers sliding through the rivulets of him that cut across her belly and slid into the crease of her inner thigh. The sight made his gut tighten again instantly.

"Sorry about that." he mumbled sheepishly. "I didn't know if--"

"It's fine."

She cut him off with a sweet kiss, pulling him against her breast for a moment as she held him tight. His pulse raced at the affection, the intimacy she was willing to share with him, and it drove him to press back just as enthusiastically.

Of course, there was an ugly little nugget of worry, as well, one that soured his stomach as it turned over and over in his mind, distracting him as she massaged the base of his skull, her other hand clasping his. What if she was only choosing him because everyone else wanted her to do otherwise? What if she only liked him so much because he lacked every quality she'd been told was important? What if he was her big "screw you" to the rest of the Vault and their expectations?

It was something he might do, frankly, if he found himself in her position.

"I really am sorry about tearing your back up, honey." she murmured, pulling him a few degrees away from his worries and leaning close enough to peer over his shoulder at his nagging wounds, laying a kiss or two along his shoulder.

"Don't stress about it. I kind of liked it." he grinned, turning his head quickly to place a soft peck on her cheek in return, his whole body trembling a bit as he pulled away.

"Still, I'm sure they hurt." she smirked.

"Eh, not much. The ones on my ass sting a little..." he said, mostly joking.

"No! Did I really get you that bad? Let me look."

"Aht, aht, aht." he chided playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her in place. "Don't worry about it. I'm enjoying you where you are, if I'm honest."

That made her grin, wide and filthy and just a little silly, and she leaned down to press her swollen lips against his own, clamoring just a bit further into his lap. It started out sweet, simple pecks whose crisp sound split the air between them, but she quickly began to linger, their kisses growing longer and more deliberate. Soon, they were back to trying to consume one another, her hips grinding against against his sensitive nether regions as her legs framed him on either side.

He almost protested when she reached between them and gripped his half-soft cock, embarrassed at his flaccidity and the sound he made, but he was just hard enough that she was able to sink down on him almost completely. Another whimper escaped him at the feeling of her tight heat around his too-sensitive cock once more, and he buried his face in her chest in a desperate move to muffle it. She chuckled, hands cupping the back of his head with a light touch as she began to grind softly back and forth on top of him once again, the stimulation only making him swell more.

"You're gonna have to keep up with me, cutie." she murmured into his ear as her teeth slid along the shell, making him fully tremble and harden even further. He moaned loudly at the sensation, burying his face in her chest for another beat.

"I can certainly try." he huffed in joking reply, his own hips beginning to find a rhythm beneath her.

He'd been afraid that he'd been too hard on her with the pace and force of his thrusts when he'd been on top, but the way she fully slammed herself down onto him, making it difficult to properly fuck back up into her, dispelled those worries for the most part. She was putting on quite the show; whether for his benefit or purely for hers, he couldn't really tell, but he certainly wasn't going to waste what little brainpower he had access to pondering it too hard. Instead, he enjoyed watching her pinch and roll her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, alternating between each breast with one hand, the other preoccupied playing with her clit. Moaning low and quiet, she rocked harder and harder on top of him, quickly working herself into a whining lather. One particular pinch must've felt especially good, as she clenched around him hard and began to quiver, the hand that wasn't playing with her folds fisting hard in his hair.

With that, he followed her into that blinding haze, his hips trapped beneath hers as they bucked and jerked out completely out of his control, fingers digging little craters into her plush hips as he whimpered out his end. His second orgasm was somewhat weaker than the first, but it still reduced him to a limp mess as his head lulled back against the rounded couch back, his eyes trained on hers as she followed, her fingers playing fast and harsh against her slit as she tensed. The way her body tightened and gripped around him as she came made him cry out in overstimulation, and she let out a little chuckle as she leaned down to kiss him deeply, swapping the lingering taste of her back and forth along their tongues as he emptied himself completely inside of her.

The two paused, her sweaty forehead against his as they smirked serenely at one another.

"C'mere." she panted, digging her legs in behind him and flipping the both of them so she was on her back once more, holding him. Her strength made him blush, the heat running up into his scalp in little prickles. There was a lengthy silence as they laid there, wrapped up in one another's shaky, slick arms, him resting along her chest and soaking up her heat through every possible inch of his body, right down to the way he remained sat deeply into the silken clench of her still-fluttering cunt. Norm knew that there was no certainty in how tomorrow would go; the only certainty was in this moment, wrapped in her arms and buried inside her. The comfort he felt was too good to end, and he let himself go fully lax, his head coming to rest along her sternum, nestled in the warmth between her breasts as she wrapped her arms around his torso, letting her hands play softly in his hair as his eyelids slowly slid shut.

For a short while, he fell into inky, dreamless sleep, though a light one. There was no falling, no jolting back into cold, trembling consciousness with a racing heart. No tears. He could still hear the clock ticking along somewhere in the back of his mind, the white noise of the air filtration system. The rise and fall of her chest beneath him was steady and slow. Eventually, he heard her mumble something to him.

"I think you're falling asleep." she said.

"I think you're falling asleep." he shot back, jesting, voice thick with sleep as he forced himself to sit up most of the way. His vision was bleary for a moment as he took in her peaceful expression, the little red mark on her chin where it had been resting against the top of his head.

"Nah, I'm just thinking."

Hesitating for a beat, perfectly content to live the rest of his life settled between her thighs, he withdrew gently, swallowing back a grunt at the loss of the warm clench of her around him. His lover sighed, arching her back in a small stretch. Silently, he reached down with a steady hand to pet at her inner thigh, awkwardly but affectionately. Her hand rested carefully on top of his, her thumb stroking at his skin.

Norm's eyes danced all along her body, drinking in the beauty of her one more time before she inevitably put her clothes back on, before things grew more complicated and precarious. A jagged breath caught in his chest when his gaze landed between her legs, taking in the swollen folds peeking out at him, the glint that hinted at a hidden mess. Watching him, she parted her legs a few inches wider so he could look closer, her fingers moving to grip the flesh of her inner thigh. He sighed out a soft groan as a thin trickle of pearlescent stickiness ran from her opening, following the curve of her ass.

Frozen in place, he could feel his grip on her leg tightening as her fingers slid down further, slipping through the stickiness audibly. Her eyes didn't leave his as she curled those fingers inside of herself, pressing what he'd given her back where he'd laid it. His breathing ceased entirely for a moment as he watched her, head spinning at the implications of her actions. When she finished, she leaned forward to capture his lips in maybe the most tender kiss they'd ever shared.

"Wanna go talk to your dad?" she asked when she pulled away, wiping her soiled fingers across her stomach.

The familiar tug of cowardly panic in his chest was instantaneous, an icy stab straight behind his breastbone. But for once, his fear didn't consume him, freeze him uselessly as things unfolded around him. Something about her presence, the tender way she looked at him, held him, let him love her with no shame, quelled his worry into nothing but a quiet thrum in the background. The ache was present, but not enough to stop him from doing what he knew he had to. His hand didn't tremble as he offered it to her, helping her to her feet.

"Let's go."

[oh-goddess-of-chaos]

⠀ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 – 𝐣. 𝐝. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✧‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (navi. & masterlist. & tag. )

「 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 」 yandere!jason dean 𝒙 female!reader

「 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 」 being the new girl at a school can be difficult, especially during the middle of the year and in a place with a rigid social structure such as westerburg high, but things can only seem to worsen when you start feeling as though you're being watched.

「 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 」 general themes from heathers the movie such as bullying, mentions of suicide, murder (c'mon, it's a heathers fic, what did u expect?), usage of guns, kissing, stalking, attempted rape (kurt n' ram), swearing , usage of drugs such as cigarettes, unconsensual kissing (doesn't get further than that in this), very slight insinuations to sex (spoken), the whole shebang.

「 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 」 4.5k

「 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .⁺ ˖ ⌒ (slight spoilers) i wanted to make the reader decently perceptive and sarcastic this one, but nearing the end i definitely made her rationality kinda disappear since that's what fear can do to a person. jd is more based off movie jd, and so is veronica.

Joining a new school midway through the school year was, to say the least, unideal.

You and your parents had just gotten the wonderful opportunity to move to the quaint town of Sherwood, Ohio, somewhere you all were essentially forced to go since your father had been promoted by his job and your family was strapped for cash. And, sure, your house was bigger and nicer than your last, but you'd had to leave all your friends you'd been with since your childhood, which was difficult.

To add to all of that, the people were unfriendly and rude, and the weather was tolerable at best. Though your old home wasn't perfect by any means, it was most certainly better than where you were living now.

And now, here you were, standing before your new high school, knowing perfectly nothing about it or what to expect yet still expecting it to be one of the worst schools you've gone to. The odd stares your fellow students were shooting you seemed to be indicative of that.

Oh, good grief.

You sighed as you entered, only to immediately crinkle your nose in disgust as you were hit with the pleasant aroma of sweaty jocks and what you could only guess were something akin to rotting bodies. Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself as you were almost hit by what you guessed were two football players dashing down the hallways.

This was going to be a long rest of the year.

You were quick to shove past the students to get to the front office, keen on getting your class schedule and getting to your class as early as you could. You'd only just gotten here and yet already you wanted to go home, though you supposed that that was how high school normally operated. It was never something anyone particularly enjoyed. Most people just managed to tolerate it enough to attend the next day.

"Hello, I'm looking to get my schedule?" You said once you'd reached your destination, crossing your arms as you stared at the woman at the front desk. Focused upon her own work, she offered you no response. You pursed your lips.

"Excuse me?" You spoke, louder this time, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

Apparently you weren't the only one unhappy to be at Westerburg high today, as the woman, seemingly irked, slowly craned her head to face you. "Yes?"

She seemed an unpleasant sort of woman, a frown etched permanently upon her wrinkled face. You wondered what the other teachers must look like, and if they resembled her by any means.

"This is my first day here. I need my class schedule."

"Name?"

"Y/n L/n."

The woman nodded and typed something into her computer. She then pointed to the printer. "Wait over there. Your class schedule is printing right now. Once it's finished, just go to your first class. The class numbers are listed on the right side."

"Well, is anyone going the help me find my way around?"

Your question was only met with silence. "Fine, I'll find it on my own. After all, why would I ever need the help of a teacher, anyway? It's not like I'm new to this school or anything." You grumbled before grabbing your schedule and exiting.

Luckily, navigating the school was a relatively simple task. The numbers on every door and the maps plastered on the walls definitely helped, and you were able to find your history class before the bell rang.

"Here's your textbook, Ms. L/n." The teacher said to you the moment you told her your name. Silently, you nodded, deciding to take a seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom as you waited for class to begin.

Something seemed off, though, as the lecture began and you jotted down nearly everything you heard. You could sense eyes boring into the back of your skull, like daggers piercing through your mind, and it inhibited your focus. You could hardly pay any attention to the teacher as she went on and on about some war you didn't even know the name of. And so, discreetly enough, you 'grabbed' something from you bag, staring over your shoulder briefly in an attempt to see if anyone really was watching you.

And, as it seemed, someone was. You managed to spot them - or him, to be more specific. Uncannily dark eyes stared back at you, blank and hollow. It made your stomach sink. Quickly, then, you retrieved an object from your school bag and continued with your notes to the best of your abilities. Unfortunately, though, you couldn't get that kid's sharp gaze out of your mind. Something about it - something about him - was off, though you couldn't quite place what it was. And, sure, from what you could see he dressed somewhat oddly - a dark trench coat adorning his shoulders, covering his already black pants and shirt - but it was more than just the way he was dressed. You knew it.

You gave up on the matter minutes after you were done with US History. As much as you were curious at the time, you could care less if some creep was watching you. It wasn't like you didn't have your fair share of those back at your old school - you just supposed that they didn't seem so outward about it. After all, you'd stared at that kid - caught him right in the act, but he didn't look away, didn't flinch, just kept staring. Looking back on it, you were convinced that you'd caught the glimpse of some sort of smile. But, as you'd mentioned, what was done was done. You'd only have to deal with him for 45 minutes every day for the rest for the year, at worst.

Sighing, you dropped your bag beside you as you sat down on one of the sticky cafeteria benches, secluded from everyone else. Although you knew you could've tried to make friends during your classes, you were aware of the truth about social politics in high school: halfway through the year, friendships were already sealed airtight and people were much less open to saying 'hi' to a new face, so you didn't even bother. And, sure, the seating was horrible, but you weren't about to make a fool of yourself, especially on your first day.

The food at Westerburg High was - albeit surprisingly - quite alright, and you found yourself somewhat enjoying it. Disregarding the horrible smell and the violently loud chatter, you supposed the cafeteria and lunch as a whole was okay.

That was, at least, until you caught sight of that kid who'd been staring at you in history. You hadn't even noticed he was there at first, but there he was, halfway across the cafeteria, staring blatantly right at you. This time, though, he was just smiling - smirking, even, and it unnerved you.

What is wrong with this guy?

The rest of the week went by like this. On your way to class, you'd always see him in the halls, eyes locking with yours as you passed him. Or getting your books from your locker - he'd always be there, eyes glued to your form. He wasn't even doing anything, was simply fixated on you. It made you shiver, the looks he gave you at first.

Now, however, it was almost expected. You'd anticipate dark eyes boring into your skull and the fumes of cigars to follow you in class, or truly just anywhere around school, just as you would expect your shadow to follow you in the sunlight. And, as annoying as it was the every first day, now it was eerie. You didn't have to look over your shoulder to know you were being watched, but when you did, you'd surely freeze out of both paranoia and fear. While, yes, you'd expected this year of high school to be your worst yet, never had you expected for it to be to such an extent.

Your fear later festered when he pulled a blank on two jocks in the cafeteria. Although you knew blanks couldn't truly hurt them, you shuddered to think what he'd do if he really wanted to cause some damage.

Things got worse still when the kid started dating the infamous Veronica Sawyer, not quite a Heather but not quite anything else either. Gossip around the school grew mad about the unconventional couple, and you soon learned the name of the kid who never did seem to leave you alone: Jason Dean, or 'J. D.' as everyone knew him.

Now, whenever you'd see J. D., he'd always be accompanied by his girlfriend, Veronica. He never did stop staring, though, resulting in numerous glares coming from Veronica's way.

So much for being tolerated by the popular crowd.

School had then became a living hell for you, because if one Heather didn't like you, none of them did, making life going unnoticed near impossible. Now, no matter where you were, someone was either glaring or gazing at you, their intentions vague and unclear.

Things then got particularly bad when Heather Chandler became a sort of enemy of yours. You weren't sure what you did to irk specifically her, but, whatever it was that you did, she most certainly hated you, more so than Veronica, even. Not a day went by without a rude confrontation by her, and you could name several instances when she'd embarrassed you in front of the school.

But then, one day, she was gone.

Suicide. At least, that's what they said it was, but you knew too many people hated that bitch for it to be so. All it would take was a teenager driven insane enough by her to be driven to such a point, and considering the state of Westerburg high, you didn't doubt for a moment that the queen bee of the school essentially prompted her own death.

So, yeah. You knew her suicide was faked. Not that you were going to report it to the cops - you weren't planning on stirring up more drama - but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by such a thing. And, besides, though you'd never admit it aloud, you were glad she was dead, in an odd way. Now you had at least one less person to make your life at this sorry school miserable.

So, life was okay for a while. People got too busy about mourning Heather's death to notice a nobody like you. Other than that creep J. D. and his jealous girlfriend stalking the halls, life was tolerable.

But when you're at the top, the only way you can go is down. And that's where you went. Down. All the way to rock bottom.

You didn't know how to put it in lighter terms, so here it was: You were almost raped. By Kurt and Ram, to be more exact.

Apparently, J. D. wasn't the only one who had an eye on you, and with all your attention focused on him (since you were so damn paranoid) you'd failed to notice the two jocks that also seemed to have been interested by you.

It was late at night. You were walking home from some house you'd babysat at as a favor, and two guys started following you. You didn't think much of it at first - just tried to forget about it and cool your nerves, but then they started to get faster, and faster, and you did too, until suddenly you were running, and then, almost abruptly, the two jocks had grabbed your arms and startled forcing you elsewhere. You screamed and fought, but no one was around to hear you.

You could only imagine the other 'nobodies' they must have done this to.

You remembered vividly your horror as the two piled themselves on top of you, eager to rip your clothes off. But, just as they were about to do so, a gun shot rang out, and then another. Frozen in terror, you didn't even move as you felt the boys' bodies go limp over you. You were only able to move when you felt a hand grab onto your own and force you up and get you back on your feet.

"Thank you," you barely managed to sputter out once the initial shock wore off.

"Go," is all the figure replied. A man, you presumed. You couldn't see his face, though, covered by the dark lighting. And so, dazed and confused, you obliged, not thinking twice about the words spoken to you.

The next day, though, was when things truly got out of hand.

Kurt and Ram, supposedly, had died in some gay love pact, wherein they killed each other. Hearing the news over the TV your parents played, you felt sick to your stomach. But, there they lied on the screen, a bag of supposed 'homosexual artifacts' and a suicide note to tie it all together.

And the whole town ate the story up.

You didn't go to school for about the next week or so. You told your parents that you were sick, and even though they knew you weren't, they still called in sick for you, able to detect that you weren't exactly feeling well mentally.

The week of repose was good, too. You were able to gather yourself up, not to the point where you didn't fear what could have happen had your savior not came to the rescue, but to the point where you could suppose that you were grateful that you wouldn't have to answer any questions from the police.

But now, at least for now, you knew you'd be safe.

* * *

You let out a soft sigh as you landed on your bed, curling into your warm sheets as a way of seeking comfort. At least you were safe and secure at home, you supposed, your parents only a relatively quiet yell away and your windows locked for good measure. If school was your hell, then you would consider home your heaven, away from the Heathers, away from J. D., away from everyone.

Turning off your light, you sank into your pillow in a desperate sort of way, clinging to it as if it were your lifeline. You'd hardly been getting sufficient sleep within the past weeks, so it didn't take long for you to fall into oblivion, the abyss of sleep consuming you whole in minutes.

So deeply unaware of your surrounding now, you didn't even hear quiet footsteps entering your bedroom.

J. D. was, to say the least, unsure what made him drawn to you in the first place. Maybe it was your calm and uncaring demeanor, or maybe it was the way you seemed to pick up on things through simple observation so easily, similarly to him. Whatever it was, he most certainly found you interesting. And, somehow, he could simply tell that there was something different about you - something like him that he saw in you, and it intrigued him to no end.

No matter how paranoid you were, you were never completely aware of J. D.'s reach in your life. When he'd watch you when you were at home, he'd remain particularly clever, knowing that if he was caught there was a high chance that he'd get into some really deep shit. Staring at a girl in school every day was one thing, but following her home? That was much more serious, and required a much less conspicuous plan.

But, alas, his plan paid off, and J. D. smiled knowingly as he stared at your vulnerable figure, taken over by a much needed sleep. You simply looked so perfectly innocent like that, something he couldn't wait to ruin once he had the chance.

J. D. laughed euphorically as he continued to just stare at you, unsure if he still had his wits about him but uncaring at the very same time. Perhaps all the cigars he had been smoking really were getting to him. But he knew what he needed to do before he brought you with him. So, quietly, resisting the urge to kiss your pristine lips, J. D. raced out of your bedroom, your door that was previously shut left open behind him.

Unfortunately for him, however, he'd forgotten that you were often a light sleeper that woke up at different intervals in the night, so when a particularly cool gust of wind came in through your open window, you were startled awake.

"What the fuck?" You muttered under your breath as you drowsily peeled your eyes open, squinting them as you stood up to close the window, before pausing and wondering how on earth your window had opened. After all, your parents never came into your room late at night as far as you were concerned, and you had locked your window when you'd fallen asleep, so how could it have opened?

It was at that very moment, too, that the faint smell of smoke wafted through the room, and you froze.

Sure, you knew you were paranoid, and that maybe fear had gotten the better of you, but you also knew that a potentially dangerous kid had been staring at you ever since you got to school and that it would be idiotic for you to assume that he had no malicious intentions.

Your stomach then tightened up once you noticed your open bedroom door. So, yes. It was possible that maybe your assumptions were idiotic, but you'd be a fool to not go with your gut when the most it'd cost you was some short-lived embarrassment, especially considering what could have happened with Kurt and Ram. So, quietly, you exited your bedroom, looking down the hallways of the upstairs floor as to reassure that the coast was clear.

It was.

More silently than you've ever done so before, then, you tip-toed to your parents bedroom, hoping to either alert them of an intruder or ask them what the were doing. But, just as you were about to open their door, footsteps were heard on the other side - not your mother's quiet, considerate ones, nor your father's loud, heavy ones, but a different kind.

Fuck.

As fast as you could, you dashed into the nearest room, leaving the door only just barely open as to not allow it to make any sound. From your parent's room exited a dark silhouette, wearing what you guessed was a trench coat and with only the burning edge of a cigarette as a light source plucked between two fingers.

You were right. You were fucking right. No other than Jason Dean was in your house, and right now, he was heading right for your bedroom, most likely intending to kill.

You needed to think fast.

My parents - right, my parents. They keep a gun in their bedroom.

You were shaking. Yes, your parents showed you were they kept the gun in the case of an emergency, but you'd never been taught how to use it.

As quietly as you could, you dashed over to your parents bedroom, closing the door behind you. And, even though you knew you didn't have the time, you took a moment to catch your breath. God, you couldn't breathe. And neither could your parents, as it seemed, when you looked over at their limp corpses sprawled in the bed. Slowly, you retracted the covers from their bodies, only to find a wet pool of blood that lay beneath them and their slit throats.

They were dead. J. D. had fucking killed your parents. You felt your knees buckle underneath you as you caressed your mother's lifeless face, her eyes never to once again open.

"Mom..." You whimpered, not caring if her blood stained your fingers. But then, you paused, realizing that, if you didn't speed up, you could be next.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I really need to find a weapon or a way out of here. I only have so much time before he finds me.

You suppressed a scream as you then scoured their bedroom in search of the gun safe, not keen on wasting any more time, but to your dismay, you couldn't find it.

They must have moved it from last year - fuck! - what else could they have?

Your eyes then landed on your father's esteemed baseball bat. You'd remember him talking about it, the pride radiating from him as he explained how it was the first bat he used to hit a home run with in high school.

Well, sorry dad.

Picking up what was now a weapon and placing it in such a way that would allow you to swing at a moment's notice, you slowly sauntered out of your parent's bedroom and into the hallway.

Your blood ran colder and colder as you approached your bedroom door, until, finally, you did, and raised the baseball bat even higher as to deliver the hardest blow on the boy that stood before you.

"You know, it would have probably been better if you'd stayed hiding," you then heard J. D. speak, turning around and raising an eyebrow at the bat in you hands. "You know, that isn't going to do much against a gun."

Time seemed to stop, and all you could stare at was the gun that sat loosely in J. D.'s hand. He was going to fucking kill you.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to use it on you," he then reassured coyly, as if reading your mind. "It's just a necessary... precaution. Now, why don't place the bat down so we can talk."

"I could scream."

J. D. seemed to smile at this and clicked his tongue, as if scolding you. "Now, would you really like to have someone else's blood on your hands like that? Just because I'm not going to shoot you doesn't mean I won't shoot anyone else. It'd be a shame if anyone had to die because of you."

Silence.

"Good, now... place the bat down."

Nodding, you complied, slowly placing your only means of defence on the ground.

"Okay, okay," you mumbled, trying to calm your racing heart down. Though you doubted it, you supposed that there was a chance that, if you could calm down enough, you could convince J. D. to leave you alive.

J. D. grinned. "Now, darling, why don't you come right here."

If you could've moved, you most certainly would've. After all, you'd seen that gun in J. D.'s hand. You knew what it could do. But you were frozen by fear, and no amount of rationality was going to move you.

"Now, this would all be, uh, a lot easier if you'd just come with me, because I'd hate to have to man-handle - " J. D.'s words cut short as he watched you, nearly stunned, as you bolted past him and towards the window. But he was quick to recoup his bearings, cocking the gun (for good measure) and grab onto your leg, successfully dragging you towards the ground. You grunted in pain upon your head slamming against the hardwood floor, the beginnings of a bruise already starting to appear.

Now only partially unconscious, it took you a long while to notice the tongue now prying apart your mouth and the chapped lips pressed against your own. You'd only really noticed when you realized that you couldn't breathe, and you let out a strangled groan as you tried to detach yourself from the figure above you, but to no avail. J. D. merely slid his tongue deeper down your throat, inhibiting you from screaming or making any other noise as he kissed you roughly.

You thrashed and flailed under his touch, but nothing was enough to free yourself from him. He was faster, stronger, and had the firearm in this situation. You stood no chance. So, with a heavy heart, you moved pliantly underneath J. D.'s touch, hoping he'd at least go a little easier on you at the very least.

And then, with bated breath, you observed as he stopped, and, hovering above you, took something out of his pocket. At first, fearing it was a gun, you began to once again fight against him, but then paused upon not recognizing the silhouette of the object in his hand.

"You know, as much as I'd like to continue this, I did come here for a reason." J. D. stared at you, no ounce of sympathy as he spoke his next words. "You know, it'd have been a hell of a lot easier if you'd just fucking stayed asleep."

Without so much as a moment to respond, a wet rag was forced upon your face. Confused at first, you lied still, before realizing what it must have been drenched it. You were now even more urgent in your fighting of J. D. (if that was even possible), punching and kicking him wherever you could. But he didn't budge, simply kept a firm grip on the rag.

"Shhh, it's fine, I won't hurt ya," he reassured, "Not unless I need to, of course."

But you didn't hear him, your consciousness already slipping as you'd only been half conscious before. You were trying to kick free, but already you were so exhausted, your adrenaline already beginning to ware off. Worse still, J. D.'s words of reassurance that you'd be fine and that everything will be alright were starting to mess with you.

You could hear him talking, but the words were muffled and blurred, and your body seemed to take everything in as if it were truth, because it was already relaxing under his cool touch. And it seemed that, the more fearful your mind grew, the more numb your body became, until, finally, you gave up your thrashing and your fighting, and sunk into J. D. harsh embrace willingly.

Upon your figure going limp, a devilish grin spread across J. D.'s face. Though he knew this was not how things were meant to occur, he was simply so happy - for he finally had you in his arms, where you belonged. And then, unable to help himself, he pressed a hungry kiss on your mouth, pleased to hear a muffled moan escape it as your tongue moved submissively under his own.

This was it! Finally - finally, after waiting for so long, you belonged to him. No more were the days when he'd have to watch you through your bedroom window, or the days where all he'd see of you were your paranoid eyes in the hallways, because, finally, here you were, in his arms, where you belonged!

Here you were at last, finally.

Finally, you were his and only his.

© do not translate, steal, or repost any of my works elsewhere without consulting me and gaining my consent.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 12

Kid x Fem Reader x Killer

Warnings: sex, slight blood play

Easy (D/P)ickings

Kid went in for a bear hug, without even the decency to put his dick away. But when has Eustass 'Captain' Kid ever been decent? Without much of a warning, Killer decked him. They bickered back and forth, Kid attempting to grab his friend and Killer batting his arms away. "Fuck you, Kid. I didn't want to wake up to that!"

The last thing you wanted was to be caught between the two, so, doing the waddle of shame, you escaped into the bathroom to clean yourself up. I should just jump into the ocean. The only thing that made you less embarrassed was the assumption that Killer had probably seen Kid do worse things and in worse positions. You just didn't want your first impression on Killer to be... that. At least Mini didn't wake up. Somehow. You came out of the bathroom and didn't really know where to place yourself, though it was a relief to note that Kid did actually put his dick away, and he seemed to have captured Killer in his embrace at the cost of a bruised cheek. 

Kid wasn't phased by it, it seemed. He was saying how happy he was that Killer was okay and thanking him for saving him from drowning. It was weird to see him like this in place of his normal grouchy asshole exterior. He was rambling trying to catch Killer up on everything that happened while he was unconscious. You felt like you were third-wheeling their reunion and were about to retreat into the bathroom, when his amber eyes found yours. "And I got us a doctor," he released Killer from his vice grip to motion towards you. 

How many times did you have to say it? "Temporarily." You glowered at him, tugging your shirt to cover more of yourself. Grumbling, you went looking in the cabinets for an eyepatch, since Kid wasn't going to give your prothetic back any time soon.

Killer, still miffed, took in your appearance. "Kid, and I don't mean this to be rude, Miss, why does our doctor look beat to hell?" Killer directed the middle part of that at you. In a voice so low he thought you wouldn't hear, he added, "Did you do that? When you were...?"

"No!" Kid looked insulted. "I would never give a lass a black eye," he went on to list exceptions to that, where he would, in fact, give a lass a black eye. Killer crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, something you could tell was a routine for them. Kid lamented to Killer how the ship was a mess without him and explained what happened earlier that day, how it wouldn't have happened if Killer was there. 

Killer digested the information, took a deep breath, and sighed. "So let me get this straight: You let this woman, our guest, our temporary doctor, get attacked, she fought her ass off, you left her to tend her own wounds, and then instead of apologizing or helping to her, you fucked her... fucked her right in front of me, your unconscious, possibly even dying, best friend." 

"Yer makin me sound like the bad guy." When Killer didn't say anything, Kid added, "WELL YER ALIVE AIN'T YA?"

Killer exhaled an exasperated sigh, "No thanks to you". He looked around quickly, suddenly realizing his face was uncovered. "Where's my helmet?" 

"Ah sorry, Kil, it got smashed in the ocean. Ya can wear an old one." 

You had been watching the exchange with a hint of amusement in your expression, leaning against the counter. Unable to find a proper eyepatch, you taped some gauze over your missing eye. The pieces of Killer's mask were still with your stuff. Killer eyed you after Kid left to grab him an old version of his helmet. "What?" It came out more snappy than you intended. 

"Nothing." He had been looking at his shirt on you. It was cute how you were swimming in it when on him, one flex would turn it into useless shreds.

You cleared your throat. "How do you feel?" Even after that embarrassment, you still had to do your job.

"Better than you look." It wasn't said in a mean way, more of a factual statement.

That made you snort. "Guess that's fair." There wasn't a mirror, but you were really starting to feel sore. You assumed Killer would go back to his room, now that he was awake and there really wasn't anything left you could do for him. "Take it easy for a day or two. You were out for a while."

It was dark out by the time Kid came to collect Killer, old helmet in hand. As he was heading out the door, you called, "Hey, K-Eustass, what did you do with the... deceased." 

"Dumped em overboard." 

You frowned. "What about the other?" 

"In the brig, why?"

"Leave him there, would ya? Minerva needs to eat." Sure she preferred vegetation, but boars would eat anything you put in front of them... bones and all. 

The swelling in your face had gone down over the next few days and your cuts had healed a tad more than one would expect, thanks to your devil fruit. You figured if you healed it in small intervals, no one would notice. Heat had brought you an eyepatch with the Kid Pirate insignia when he noticed your eye covering. Quincy kept checking on you an annoying amount, yet it was growing on you. You met the rest of the girls and a few more of the crew. Killer seemed to take your advice, seeing as you didn't see him above deck. You snooped a bit, gauging how plausible it would be to sneak into Kid's workshop to get your weapon back. Though with your current situation, maybe you could get it back the same way as your eye. While doing whatever task Heat or Wire assigned, you did your best to avoid Kid. He was really taking advantage of your 'deal', somehow finding you and pulling you into a supply closet, or cornering you in the infirmary. You pretended to be irritated or bored, though your act never lasted long, and you had to admit you liked when he sought you out. It was your little cat and mouse game. The man was insatiable, which is why you were currently hiding in the women's showers, the only Kid-free zone, or at least, you were told it was. 

"Rotten? I wonder where my wee mouse has gotten ta." Kid feigned not knowing where you were even though you could hear his heavy boots approaching. 

You could feel your body respond to his teasing. It wasn't like you didn't want to, Kid was damn near the best you had experienced, but you had things you had to do. This time, you had a surprise, a bucket of water, as you crouched behind a screen. As soon as he turned the corner, you sprang up, dousing him in cold water. Then you used his moment of distraction to run. You tried to anyway, it was hard when your leg was still hurt. You weren't even sure why it still hurt, it should have been healed now. You didn't even realize you were giggling until he caught up to you, without much effort, and grabbed you around the waist. 

"Ya think yer fuckin funny?" Kid spit some of the water that was dripping into his mouth. It seemed like you got him right in the face. 

The giggles waned as you tried to slip out of his grip. "How do you keep finding me? And I thought you weren't allowed in here!"

It was Kid's turn to laugh, "Doll, I'm the fuckin captain. I can be wherever I want ta." Kid nipped at your neck from behind, "What? Ya don't want ta see me? Yer gonna hurt my feelings." 

"If I don't, who will?" You teased.

"Yer beggin me to stuff that smart mouth of yers instead of yer cunny, are ya?"

That made you shut up. You could fuck just fine, amazingly, some might say. You couldn't be perfect though, and had been cursed with a terrible gag reflex. Most of the time you could work around it. There would be none of that with what Eustass was packing. And even worse, he was definitely going to torment you about it. His free hand was already grabbing and groping at any part of you that he could. When he grabbed at your injured thigh though, you cried out, "Fuck!" Your weight sank into the arm wrapped around your waist as you took some off your leg. The rest of your weight was taken off your leg as Kid picked you up, taking you closer to the wall, and pressing you up against it. 

Kid lifted your bad leg with his hand, nothing but cool air between your cunt and him. "Better?" There was the quick jingling of belts and the shift of fabric before you could feel his hardness pressing into you from behind. 

"Not really." A loud groan escaped your throat as he pushed himself into you. The ease with which he sank to your core betrayed how much you liked when he was mean to you. Eustass could get deep from any angle with how big he was, but from the back it felt like he was fucking your stomach. Whatever pain you were feeling was quickly replaced with pleasure as soon as Kid started to move. The slight sting of your pussy stretching around him was still there, you guessed that wouldn't change in the near future. 

Kid tucked his head next to yours, panting into your ear. He pressed your leg up to get a better angle and increased the pace. A twinge of guilt tickled the back of his mind. He knew why your leg still hurt, how he could always find you. He was actually planning on helping you the evening where the two of you made Killer want to go blind. Kid could still help, he just didn't want to. Not now, when it was so enticing to chase you around the ship and see your fake pout when he caught you. There was something he wanted to try, however, and there were other ways he could play this trivial game with you. 

"Do you trust me?" Kid had a proclivity for the rougher side of things, and he guessed that you did too. He wasn't entirely sure about the extent of your likes since these escapades had all been quickies and he hadn't had time to draw it out of you. Why was he thinking about that? Why did he even care about what you liked anyway? This was about him. He would do what he wanted regardless of your answer.

"Not particularly." You could barely form the words to answer with the way he was scrambling your guts. The cool tile pressed into you from the front and the back of your shirt was wet from the water you had thrown on Kid soaking into it. 

Kid growled. "Do ya trust me to make ya feel good?" He dropped his free hand to press against your clit, but he stopped moving until he got the answer he wanted to hear.

You whined at the loss of friction. "Yes. Yes! Jus keep going." You put your hand on top of his to make him rub against you as he started fucking into you again. Your eyes were scrunched closed, eyebrows knit together as the heat in your center grew. Then, you felt a searing, dragging pain in your leg and you opened your eyes to see a crackling purple energy dance over the skin of that leg. Kid was using his devil fruit?

Kid felt you tense when he started pulling at the bullet fragments lodged in the muscle of your thigh. He eased up though keeping a steady rhythm in the circles he rubbed into your clit. Kid felt his balls tighten when the sweet sound of your whimpers met his ears. It was a mix of pain and pleasure, and even you couldn't have told him which was which. 

The intense burn from Kid manipulating the metal in your leg and the blissful way he was toying with the apex of your thighs was overstimulating. You couldn't focus on either one at any given moment. You didn't have the capacity to even wonder what the hell Kid was doing to you, you just knew you liked it. The nail imprints from your hand gripping Kid deepened as you slid closer and closer to the edge. A warm feeling spread over your thigh as blood wept from where Kid freed one of the fragments. The pain started to dull as he removed each one, leaving you with a few fresh, small wounds. Kid didn't let it fully dissipate however, pushing his thumb into one of the defects where he pulled a fragment from. That finally sent you crashing over the edge, a string of curses tumbled from your mouth, brought to an end only when Kid released your leg and pushed his bloodied fingers into your mouth. 

Kid had been holding out since he saw the red of your blood dripping to the floor, and he wasn't far behind you. Digging his finger into the fresh wounds again, the warm, wet feeling of your flesh, the cry of pain from you, and the intense clench of your cunt around his cock was all it took. Kid grunted and pinned your hips into the wall, at the same time gripping your hair roughly to bring your mouth to his so he could taste the metallic tang of blood left from his fingers.

It took a minute or two to catch your breath, and when you did you realized what Kid had done. Even though the bullet went through your leg and hit the deck, some fragments were left behind. You guessed Kid could sense these pieces with his devil fruit. "You're a real piece of shit," you panted. "You really let me painfully hobble around with metal in my leg just so you could find your nut faster." Kid pulled out and you felt the warm drip of your mixed juices go down your leg. Good thing you were in the showers already. 

"Ya weren't complaining." Kid smirked, "Didn't even hafta spit on yer pussy ya were so drippin wet fer me." He tugged his pants on and fixed his hair before turning to leave. 

You wished so badly that you had something to fling at his head to wipe the smug look from it. 

Next

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

✨a s n e a k p e e k ✨

“Harry, can I get a man's perspective on something?” you ask, turning to Harry next to you on the couch. You had begged Harry out of his room for a movie night as a ruse, but your nose had been buried deep in your phone the whole night. Re-reading and overanalyzing old text messages between you and the object of your anxiety.

You don’t often go to Harry for help with men, but his advice on other areas of your life is always sound, and you respect his opinion.

“If you’re asking me for help, he’s not worth your time.” He sighs, not looking away from the movie, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

“I’m serious, I need your help.” you whine, tugging on his sleeve. He turns and looks at your dramatic pout, “Please.” 

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He huffs. “What is it?” 

“As a man, do you prefer texting or like a call? Or maybe FaceTime?”  

Harry barks out a laugh at the ridiculous question, before looking over at you, and realizing your dead serious. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, tossing his head back against the couch. “I mean I’m more of a talker, and I like seeing who I’m talking to, so I prefer FaceTime. But I guess it depends on the girl and how long I’ve been talking to them. What our situation is, and stuff.  Which one of your boy toys are we talking about?” he asks. 

“Cameron.” you grimace.

Cameron is admittedly your least favorite of the boys on your roster, but your most tenured member. And the one Harry hates most. In the beginning you thought it could be something real. He was sweet and did a decent job at wooing you. That is until - in Harry’s eyes - he coerced you into a friends with benefits arrangement. Harry could tell that you liked him, and to see him treat you as terribly as he did, got Harry’s blood boiling. You deserved better, that much you both could understand. What Harry couldn't understand however was why you would even consider speaking to him again after the last time you were in contact.  

Instead of saying what he truly thought, or giving you a hard time, he just pinched the space between his brow with an exasperated sigh. 

“I know, I know,” you grumble.

“How long has it been since you’ve heard from him?” 

“A while. But he reached out recently and - ” 

“I thought you were done with him.” he deadpans, eyes glued to yours. 

“I was, but we got coffee last week and he apologized.” 

“Coffee?” Harry groans in disgust at the low effort. He pauses the movie, and turns to you, “Don’t text him. Don’t call him. Go back in there,” he says pointing down the hallway towards your room. “Make yourself come, and forget about him. For your sake and mine.” 

“Harry!” you laugh, hitting him with a throw pillow.  

“You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.” he concedes with a chuckle, “You don’t even like him.” 

“I like him enough.” 

“He’s a terrible fuck.” 

“He…gets the job done.” you defend voice cracking. 

“Everytime he leaves, there's suddenly a consistent buzz coming from your bedroom.” He scoffs. You go to defend yourself with heat rising to your face. You stammer a bit but not quite getting words out before he continues, “I’m a grown man, I know what a vibrator sounds like.” He smirks, and you giggle covering your face. 

“Jesus.” you laugh, “Look, I’ve tried your way already…and it’s not doing the trick.” you pout, “So tell me, how pathetic would I be  if I were to reach out to him.”

“I don’t think you’d be pathetic, love.” he soothes 

“Then why are you so against me texting him?”  

Because you deserve better! Why can’t you see that? He thinks, These guys don’t deserve you. If I were them I’d - 

“Harry?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. It’s in the glow of the television, and the small light on the side table that Harry is able to admire your adorable pout and curious eyes. He’s always had a little crush on you throughout the entirety of your friendship. One he knew you could feel and was reciprocated. There were a few drunken confessions of your attraction for one another that were joked about the following morning. Then there was the holiday kiss . One New Year for ‘good luck’. But there was also a promise. A pinky promise, to never risk the friendship you had. To keep things platonic.  It was a promise that was becoming more and more difficult for both of you to keep. 

When you two agreed to move in under the same roof for economic reasons, you knew it would be an adjustment, with both of you having been living on your own for years. But you were excited. Living alone could get lonely and overwhelming. So having your best friend of years, under the same roof and splitting responsibilities felt like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders. 

But being in such close proximity meant that it was becoming harder to keep your promise. Especially when things just felt so domestic with the two of you. Cooking dinner together, movie nights, cuddling together on the couch. It was hard for both of you not to let your minds wander to a reality where you were more than just friends. 

But you were friends, and as long as that boundary was there, there was nothing stopping either of you from being young, wild and free. So there were parties, and one night stands, and situationships. All in an attempt to distract you both from the truth. Because no matter how pretty the girls were that Harry brought home, no matter how sweet and kind they were. The only face he saw when they were splayed out in his bed…was your. 

And after a very awkward Sunday morning breakfast with one of your one night stands meeting Harry, you stopped bringing guys home all together. Opting for spending weekends away. A change Harry didn’t like, and lectured you over. “It’s not safe. You don’t know these guys. At least if you bring them here, I’m here if you need me.” he’d argued. All that did was keep you from seeing anyone for a while.  Which is how you ended up even considering talking to Camreon again. 

“Look” Harry finally says, turning his body towards you, “if you’re that sexually frustrated I’ll… help you out.” 

You tilt your head, letting out a nervous giggle, waiting for his real response. But it never comes, he just…smirks at you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, heart beating against your ribs. “You’re serious.” Harry nods, biting his lip. The offer was…promising, and the way Harry looked at you was intriguing. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies.  That the last month or so things haven’t  felt different between you two, something less than romantic, but certainly more than platonic. It was messing with your head for sure. But you were friends. Regardless of how fit you thought he was, you didn’t have the right to blow up your over decade long friendship just because you were horny. You clear your throat blinking up at him, shaking your head,“Thanks for the offer, Har but -” 

“Yeah no…you’re right. It’s - dumb idea.” He stammers, “I do think you just need to let off some steam, and then you’ll forget about him.” 

“Yeah. I guess.” 

He sees you deflate a bit at his words, and he realizes you didn’t expect  him to give up so easily. So he tries again a little more directly “And not to be that guy but I’ve been told I’m pretty talented, and if making you come keeps you from making a repeated mistake then I’ll take one for the team.” 

“Gee, thanks.” you scoff. 

“I just mean. You’re my friend, and I’m trying to be a helping hand.” he says sweetly before the smirk returns, “And tongue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes. “And on a serious note, you’re too special of a woman to have to deal with mediocre sex from a guy that clearly - and I’m sorry to say - couldn’t give two shits about your Love. If you need to…get your rocks off, why not with someone you trust? With someone that actually cares about you?” Harry says sweetly. 

“Really?” you ask, and he nods, “And if we cross this line, it won't ruin our friendship.” 

“Cross my heart.” He says drawing an ‘x’ over his chest. 

“What about Taylor?” you ask, thinking of the pretty blonde that you’ve caught making breakfast in your kitchen a few times. You're trying to give him an out. But he doesn’t take it. 

“Out of the picture.” he smiles, “Has been for a while.” He admits, and before you get a chance to offer your condolences, he asks “So what do you say?”  

“Okay.” 

“Alright.” he smirks, “Come here.” He says softly, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You scoot closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thigh.  Your breath hitches in your throat as his other hand rests on your cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

He leans in slowly, his breath fanning across your face, his lips inches away from yours. His emerald eyes dart from yours down to your lips, back to your eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. You nod your head slowly, eyes glued to his lips as he speaks. You watch as they curve up into a seductive smirk, “Words, baby. Want to hear you say it.” He coaches. 

He wants to hear you say it because the truth is, he can’t believe this is finally happening. He gets why you both agreed to not cross this boundary for so long. For the sake of your amazing friendship. But being this close to you now, seeing the look in your eye, the want and anticipation. Feeling the way he lit up touching you. It all seemed so silly. Why deny yourselves the pleasure of giving in to such chemistry, when life was so short? 

“I’m sure.” you whisper, “Are you?” 

“Oh, I’m positive.” he purrs, before leaning forward finally bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Immediately, the kiss feels different than anything you’ve shared in the past. What starts off as a soft sweet pecks, familiarizes yourselves with one another, quickly evolves into a hurried frenzy. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking, and with Harry’s hand having come down to rest on your neck, thumb caressing your jugular possessively your head was spinning. You gasp  into the kiss, trying to catch your breath but all you could do was breathe in more of Harry. It’s when he nipped at your bottom lip licking at the skin after, that you have a moment of clarity. Pulling away slowly you, run your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck making him look up at you. 

“You okay?” he asks, worry etched into his features. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you begin, “ I have one condition.” 

“Okay.” he prompts 

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper, voice shakily. 

“Planned on it, Love.”

more coming soon...

✨masterlist✨

let me know what you think :) - A

[kiddbegins]

Closed Off - Will Halstead

requested: yes

word count: 2,231

warnings: nothing really, just cute, closed off reader i guess?

a/n: i apologize if this isn't written well?? i cant tell-

Masterlist

“You’re a lot different under the sheets, aren’t you?” “How so?” “…You’re way softer, I like this side of you.”

When you started working at Chicago Med, you swore that you would just live your life there as a doctor and that was that. No romances, no mingling of any sort. As minimal talk of your personal life as possible. 

You wanted to leave that part of you back in New York and let Chicago be completely detached. As well as not letting your coworkers into your inner circle. And so far it had been working. Most of the people you worked with knew you were self reserved, respected that.

Including one Will Halstead but he really couldn’t get past the fact it drew him in even more than any sort of mystery usually would. Seriously, how could he just ignore that the new beautiful doctor at the hospital had so much hidden behind a brick wall. 

He of course respected your want to privacy, but that didn’t stop him from conveniently going to the vending machine at the same time as you, offering up any sort of light conversation he could. Simply wanting to offer out his attention and want to at least be friends.

And in all honesty, you found it cute. That he cared, if that was even the right word to use, to try and let you hunker down in this city. To know that you had each and every person in this hospital to lean on regardless of what you tried to shut out.

Usually you would just brush him off, but today was… decently hard. You had no real way to save this mother and you had to tell her family that. So you decided on grabbing something to try and calm yourself down. Some chips.

As always, Will followed you, leaning against the side of the machine with a slight grin. “Hey, what kind you getting?” He waited, knowing if you were going to reply it wouldn’t be right away. And he was right.

With a sigh, you looked up at him, “Salt and vinegar.” Short and bluntly, leaning down to grab the bag out of the bottom, sucking in a breath before going to go around him. As if he could tell, Will turned with you.

“Hey, wait. You alright?” His hand went to your arm, something that usually wouldn’t have made you stop but for some reason you did, gripping the small bag of chips in your hands. Genuinely you didn’t know if it was the bad day getting to you or what but you shook your head.

Will frowned slightly, pushing past the surprise that you actually spoke to him, “Do you wanna talk about it? Maybe I could help?” He offered, you nodding faintly. If it meant even possibly coming up with something to help your patient you’d do it.

“Yeah, my patient, she’s sick and I can’t save her. She’s past the point of chemo and everything so,” You paused faintly. “I don’t really know what to do.” Something you didn’t admit lightly. 

You were good at your job, cold shoulder or not. And honestly, one of the highest success rates of doctors in the ED, only topped by Dr. Choi. “Let me take a look at her and her papers and I’ll see if I can find anything. New eyes and all.” He once more offered.

Part of you was ashamed of the help but you brushed it off. Will managed to find something and by the end of the day, she was on a new treatment plan that was hopefully going to get her home before the holidays.

Later that night, when shift was about to end, you went into the break room, not looking for Will, but bumping into him was actually alright. “Hey, Halstead.” He lifted his head towards you with a hum of acknowledgement. “I just wanted to say an actual thank you for today.” You paused, actually feeling a bit nervous speaking up.

“I’m glad I could help. Always nice to see a parent make it home to their family.” Will shrugged his jacket on, watching as you still stood there, hands clasped together, “Was there something else?”” 

With how quickly you usually split from any sort of conversation it was odd that you didn’t with him, at least not now. “Well, I was uh, gonna see if you’d let me get you a drink.” Will’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Because honestly, I don’t think I could have handled losing that mother today.” You rolled your tongue against your cheek nervously.

He nodded faintly, doing his best (and failing) to hide the smile that was actively growing on his face. “Well, I think I’d like that.”

“Just the one though.” You faintly laughed, “Don’t get your hopes up.” You managed to joke faintly, Will holding his hands up in defense. He’d take anything he could, conversation was conversation and that was how the two of you ended up next to one another at Molly’s that evening, a beer in both of your hands.

Will leaned on the counter, “You know, you’re pretty hard to read.” He spoke, looking over at you. “And I like to think I’m pretty good at reading people.” He sipped from his drink with a thoughtful look behind his eyes. That much was true, Will was good at knowing what kind of person he was getting entangled with.

Not that he ever had the best judgment on what that meant or would lead to but at least he had a baseline. With you though it was like there was nothing. You didn’t give off anything. He had nothing to base his thoughts off.

“Well, that’s kind of the point.” You shrugged, taking a swig from your bottle, “That’s exactly how I want it to be.” Will shifted at the statement, facing you more, his eyebrows pulling together as he looked over at you.

“Why?” He chuckled faintly. “I mean, you’ve been in Chicago a few months now and all I got from you is that you’re from New York and that you like cats.” The only reason he even knew that was the pin you had attached to your jacket that you sometimes wore.

A small black cat pin. “Well if I answered that I’d be giving away all my secrets, wouldn’t I?” You cocked an eyebrow up, crossing a leg over the other. Will chuckled faintly, nodding with a shrug. He sighed faintly, tilting his bottle towards you.

“I guess you’re right.” Once more he took a decently big swig from his beer, taking a moment to think over his next words, “You know I’m gonna keep trying to get to know you right?” Will spoke, glancing to you. If he was one thing it was stubborn and one thing he wanted more than anything was to sneak through one of the tiniest cracks you had to have. 

Because everybody has one in the walls they put up. “I know.” You leaned your elbow on your knee, glancing up at him. “Doesn’t mean I’ll give in though.” The two of you shared a look, and you were unable to say you weren’t attempting to flirt at least a little bit. And it wasn’t like you were fully against talking to him in general. He wasn’t the worst company.

Will hummed faintly, he wasn’t sure what he was exactly allowed to do or say. Sure you had asked him to get the drink but that only put you at acquaintance level. If that. And as much as he wanted to reach out, put a hand on yours, he couldn’t let himself. That would be too far. 

At least to him. But truthfully, you couldn’t keep the facade up that much longer. Because he was persistent and you were only so strong. “Well, I figured as much. But hey, maybe I’ll crack you down.” Will smiled warmly, and for some reason that was it. That was the smile that made you just want to confess everything you’ve ever held back to him.

You sucked in a deep breath, looking away from him in a vain attempt at keeping your composure. “Yeah, maybe.” There was a brief silence, you finishing your beer before standing, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair. “Well, thanks again. Enjoy the rest of your beer.” 

Will stood quickly, reaching his hand out just as fast, stopping before it touched your arm, “Wait, you’re leaving already?” He said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. Slightly you nodded, lifting your gaze to him with pursed lips, his eyes locking with yours. 

“Uh, yeah, I should,” You gave him a light smile, frozen in place as much as you wanted to walk away it was like you couldn’t. Something about looking at Will just made you want to stay. Whether it was the warmth of his eyes, how he pressed you for conversation while still respecting when you snipped it in the bud.

Something held you there, and it wasn’t the hand he lightly put on your arm, stepping slightly closer, “Or, you could stay. Let me buy you another drink.” His voice was hopeful and so alluring that before you knew it you were agreeing, sitting back down with another drink in your hand. 

It was like somehow he just knew that you didn’t actually want to leave. That you wanted to keep talking. And he managed to keep you wrapped up in conversation along with a few more drinks that led to you walking out together and you laying in his bed that night. 

Not minding when his hands traced over your skin or how your head rested against his chest, his hands twisting through your hair, luring you to sleep.

-

You were the first to wake up the next morning, shifting onto your side to face Will. He was still asleep, his arms tucked under his head and hair sticking up all over the place. It was admittedly extremely cute and you couldn’t help but gently reach over, raking your hand through his hair and pushing it off of his forehead.

He just looked so peaceful, content, that it almost made you feel bad for always brushing him off. Made you second guess the fact that you were so closed off. Maybe this was your way of finally opening up. Will shifted slightly under your touch, making you retract it quickly, eyes widening. 

“Mmm, what time ’s it?” He mumbled, eyes still shut. Just slightly you leaned up, looking over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside table, having to push hair out of the way as it fell over your eyes.

“Only 7,” You spoke softly, laying back down, this time meeting his gaze as he finally opened his eyes. Will grinned widely, shifting closer, his arm going around your waist, nuzzling up against your side. “You’re clingy when you just wake up huh?”

The man nodded as best he could, tucking his head away in the crevice of your neck. “Only when I’m this comfortable.” His statement was muffled but you understood it nonetheless, unable to keep yourself from bringing a hand up to rake through his hair. “Now you just don’t want me to get up,” He chuckled lightly.

You hummed softly, twirling some of his hair around your fingers. “You are admittedly kind of cozy, I won’t lie.” The man lifted his head, looking across your face quickly. A deep blush covered your cheeks as he looked at you.

He was practically studying you, taking note of your face, how you looked back at him. All of it. “I… what?” You asked quickly, eyebrows tightly pulling together.

Will shook his head slightly, “Nothing, you’re just a lot different under the sheets, aren’t you.” He leaned up on his elbows, planting them on either side of you as he spoke. It made his heart flutter, the way you only seemed to be comfortable letting him in.

“How so?”

“You’re softer. Not as closed off.” He spoke, a breath catching in your throat. The man reached out, hesitantly putting a hand on the side of your face. “I like this side of you.” Will swiped his thumb over your cheek, “A lot.” He admitted, giving you a tight smile.

Everything he said was thought over, worried that the wrong move or wrong saying would send you running. That he’d overstep in some way or another. But in reality, you missed being around others. 

A lonely life in Chicago was just that. Lonely. And as much as you were content with how you were living there was always a bit of something that had you wanting to change your own mind. 

Heavily you sighed, giving up on keeping yourself from leaning into his palm. Will grinned wider, shifting closer to you. “Does this mean you’re done with that? At least with me?” He muttered, eyes meeting yours as you slightly nodded.

“At least with you,” One of your hands went over his, pulling him closer. Will’s arm went to the spot on the bed behind you, leaning forward. “Which makes you, very lucky.” You mumbled, in turn putting your hand on his cheek instead,

Will laughed quietly with a hum, “Is that so?” His voice low as you got closer to him, nodding once more before pressing your lips to his firmly, putting your arm over his shoulder tightly.

“It is.”

JOIN WILL'S TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @everything-fandom, @thebejeweledwatercat, @mrspeacem1nusone, @wnbweasley, @alexxavicry, @halsteadbrasil, @firetruckstuckley, @lilithblade, @angelicbxtchthea

[ghostboneswrites2]

Doe Eyes || CH3 - Wait

See CH1 for warnings! || Chapter list || Masterlist

Photo reference for how I imagine Brandy (your bestie):

        The Governor had decided to start training every able bodied person over the age of thirteen for combat. Andrea had fought for a ceasefire, for some kind of 'live and let live' agreement, but the Governor was hellbent on retaliation and revenge. You didn't get it. A few of the Woodbury dwellers had fallen, but there was a sort of rage behind his good eye that told you that this was much deeper than that. Otherwise, the dude was just a psycho. Either way he had gone from leading everyone in a safe community to leading his community to war. A needless war, it seemed.

        Then Andrea left. The Governor seemed oddly content with it, given their previous 'arrangement'. It led you to believe he probably sent someone after her, too. The same way he sent you and Merle after Michonne. Merle, who, had also left with his brother, who you'd later learned was actually his brother. At least he got what he was searching for with all that violence, you guessed. 

        Then Sasha, Tyreese, and a guy named Alan and his son showed up. They negotiated for safety and shelter, offering their hand in the battle in exchange for such. You had managed to keep quiet, following along with whatever whacky plans the Governor spelled out. You were tasked with assisting in training people on basic gun management. You hated it, it made you sick to show teenagers and regular people how to kill. They were told it was to defend themselves but you knew better than that. Brandy was there too. She learned how to shoot before, but only BB guns. She had decent aim, but she was no killer. None of these people were. 

        When you were on guard one night, Andrea rolled up in a car. You guys let her in, but you didn't see her again after that. You wondered if she was turned out on her own, but you knew better. By then the Governor had strayed further and further from the man who had welcomed you there and showed his true self. There was no telling what he was capable of.

        "I still think we should go." You told Brandy, sitting at her table that night for dinner. It wasn't much, supplies had been scarce since all the efforts were focused on war instead of supply runs. 

        "I can't leave these people, (y/n)." She sighed. "They need me. We're a community."

        "I won't leave you. But I don't think it's safe to stay. I think he's leading us all to our deaths." You shook your head.

        "Whatever it is, we can get through it. As a community. You heard Andrea. One day the history books will talk about Woodbury. Even if part of our story includes mutiny."

        "Mutiny." You scoffed. "What, we overthrow him?"

        "If we need to." She nodded.

        "Please." You waved her off. "These people are too loyal. He's like their prophet or something."

        "No, these people are afraid, and they look tot he man who provides for him." She corrected. "They don't have anyone else to look to. We give them someone better, someone stronger, someone more convincing, they'll follow that person instead." 

        "Oh, you mean like you? Like me? Like Mr. Farris?" You rolled your eyes. "That's a bigger job than we're up for, Brandy. Our best bet is to go. Maybe others will follow. They were ready to leave when the barrier was breached, before Andrea gave her inaugural speech."

        "Yeah, maybe. But how would we keep them all safe out there?" She asked, rubbing her temples.

        "Not like we're doing much of that in here." You mumbled.

        "Look, the Governor's system works. How was he supposed to know there's be a group of rogue prisoners out there?" She argued.

        "You still don't get it, Brandy. They weren't just rogue prisoners. They were here to get their people that Merle kidnapped and beat! And the Governor let him! He stripped that girl's shirt off and did whatever with her!" You snapped. She just stared back at you, stunned. You let go of a breath and ran your hands over your face. "Look," you began, more calmly. "I'm telling you. I've seen some shit. All on his orders. He's not a good man. It's an act."

----

       "What would your daughter think? About what you are?"

        "She'd be afraid of me. If I'd been like this from the start, she'd be alive today."

        The conversation played in your mind. Milton and the Governor. You watched him beat his little scientist, then watched as he tried to force him to kill Andrea. You were sick to your stomach. This wasn't right, not any of it. How could you have let your loyalty to Brandy keep you here, working as one of his henchmen? Milton refused. In retaliation, the Governor stabbed him and left him to turn, and then he'd tear Andrea apart.         

        "In this world, you kill or you die."

        That was hours ago, and like the obedient little soldier you were, you left them there too. Andrea was on her own. You were just glad it wasn't Brandy. Now, you were preparing for war, a real war. You were loading trucks, counting ammo, fueling gas tanks, whatever needed to be done. Anything to numb your mind and keep the images of what was happening to Andrea at bay. You should have helped her, but you didn't. It wasn't like you to put someone's life before your own. You were a fighter, not a martyr. Although, the way things were headed, being martyred was probably in your near future. 

        "Let's roll!" He shouted as everyone piled into vehicles and readied themselves for a fight. 

        "Governor." You spoke up. "I'd like to stay and look after the children we're leaving here. With every able bodied adult out there fighting, they're a defenseless buffet." 

        He looked at you, an unsettling sort of calmness in his eye. 

        "Us too." Tyreese spoke up for himself and Sasha.

        "And the elderly, I've always cared for them." Brandy added. He looked around between the four of you, before he nodded. He handed a weapon to Tyreese. You already had one. 

        "Thank you." He finally said, before they all fired the engines and left.

        You exchanged glances with the other three, before you all spread out. Sasha and Tyreese took watch over the gates. You patrolled the street. Brandy cared for the children and the elderly inside the strongest building with the most supplies. All that was left to o was wait.

        By nightfall the troops still hadn't made it back, but some others did. Karen and the ones who the Governor had gone to attack. Karen said they saved her, after the Governor gunned down everyone that went with him. 

        "We were coming to finish this. Until we saw what the Governor did." A man told Tyreese.

        "He killed them?" Tyreese gasped.

        "No." Brandy shook her head. "That's insane." 

        "He did." The man confirmed. Karen nodded. Brandy wept. Those were her friends, her people. The very reason she didn't run with you when she had the chance.

        You all went to find Andrea. She was alive, but not for long. Milton had turned. She was a badass, so she too him down, but not without her own loss. She was bitten. Your stomach turned over and over as you watched them say their goodbyes. 

        "I can do it myself." She said. 

        "No." Michonne cried.

        "Oh, I have to. While I still can. Please. I know how the safety works." She argued. That last part was some kind of inside joke, you could tell. 

        "I'm not going anywhere." Michonne protested.

        Andrea shook her head. "I tried." She said.

        "Yeah," The leader agreed. "You did.... You did."

        With that, all of you except for Michonne filed out of the room where she was held. You waited, until that dreadful sound rang out. Andrea ended it. Just like she said she would. Like she said she had to, while she still could.

        By dawn you had loaded the surviving members of Woodbury unto a bus and their leader, who you'd come to know as Rick, led you all to safety at the prison and welcomed you with pen arms. You protested at first, but it was what Brandy wanted, and you'd go, because she was your only friend.

[peepslibrary]

Introducing~ Lay Bankz

This is probably one of the funniest things I've ever written. I guess this qualifies as a song fic? If you've been on tiktok a couple months ago, you'd probably recognize this song.

Synopsis: What would happen if the LU boys heard the song Ick?

Warnings: Explicit lyrics, mentions of sex

Y'all can thank @trippygalaxy for this.

... Why is there a portal right outside the camp?

Why is there

a

PORTAL-

You're fairly confident the whole town heard your sigh and the chain's groans as y'all packed everything up and linked hands to go through the stupid portal. The other side of the portal was - in fact - NOT another Hyrule. It was a stadium. A stadium filled to the brim with people, a gigantic stage, and multicolored lights moving all around. Ok wait- the portal might've been the least of your problems.

The group looks around with emotions varying from confused to overstimulated. Honestly, if you squint you could see their braincells work together. You turn around, doing a quick headcount. “Wait, where’s Wind?” You count again and… nope still 9 including you. Fuck

I don't mean to judge off a first impression. Or his part-time job at 7/11. But he's a broke-ass peasant ask-

You feel your eyebrows furrow. Where do you know this song??

(ick) and he's got bad credit (ick) and he got a foot fetish (ick) DNR, but he tryin' paramedic

Shit... that's where you recognize this from. Tiktok

You're quick to move and cover Sky’s ears, making a silent prayer to whatever poor soul is listening. You need to get everyone out. You guys need to find Wind and you're fairly confident that everyone present will get red in the face when they register the lyrics.

"Time." Thankfully he managed to hear you despite the current situation. You see him angle his head up for a milisecond. Just subtle enough for you to reply with a tilt of your head towards an emergency exit. He doesn't hesitate to nod, moving to Wars and Twilight to help move everyone along. It's not a stretch to think that he's overstimulated with the environment. Has any of them ever heard this much noise so close?? You wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.

Actually... Dink can kiss your ass. He's literally the one that pulled you into this craziness in your pjs. Like... dude coulda waited until you were decent t-

“Hey, what’s going on?” You curse and look up at the question-er. His eyes stuck looking at the ground, his ears lowered under your hands while his playing with the fabric of his sailcloth. “Sky I’m trying to get you guys out of-“

(Ew) Lady boner gone (Oh no), He dry humpin' me and huffin' like a dog (Hah, hah), And he whispered in my ear did I get off?

You didn’t think it was possible to cringe laugh *this* hard. But oh boy, the collective faces made shouldn’t have been that funny. Red in the face and trying to move everyone faster - incredibly hard considering they’re all standing like statues - are Time, Wars, Legend, and Twilight. Sky, Wild, Four, and Hyrule have moved to cover their own ears, with some crouched against the floor.

Somehow everyone is able to leave the stadium with only their innocence (or lack of thereof) injured, only to find Wind standing with a security guard eating a string cheese and a can of soda next to him.

“There you guys- what happened?” Wind makes his way to y’all and you use that chance to check for visible injuries, making sure no one injured him.

“Although it’s likely they would be the one injured.” Your brain supplied helpfully.

“Uhh…” you look at the group’s states, “let’s just say they weren’t expecting what was inside the stadium.” Wind nods in understanding, “Yeah, Sam wouldn’t let me in because it was ‘for adults.’” You spare a glance towards the guard, who gives a humored nod and sends you guys on your way.