#can you tell I've been thinking about heavy petting a lot lately?

[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, bouncing 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 its 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 frame. 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."

[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty | Joost Klein

description: joost klein x f! reader You and Joost manage to find a moment of intimacy over the phone amidst a time of hardship in your relationship. (very much based on of this song <33 so lyrics are scattered throughout!)

content 18+ NSFW, MDNI- phone sex, mutual masturbation, relationship issues, angst/comfort, lots of comfort (if you catch my drift), this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 2425

I'm only trying to work this out / So if you call me at all don't tell me that I'm ordinary / because I won't be passing you, please don't leave

Your stomach churns at the sound of your phone buzzing, over the last week you had associated the sound of your phone buzzing with nothing but tears and heartache.

You roll over, letting the thick comforter that covers you slip down your shoulders as you reach for your phone from the nightstand. Just as you expected. An anxious hand hesitates to pick up the phone, not in the mood to engage in conversation with who you were sure within the coming days would be your ex-boyfriend.

A sharp pang vibrates throughout your chest looking at the screen that shines at you.

Joost <3

Rather hurtfully paired with a picture of the two of you together, his arms wrapped around you, lips pressed against your cheek in a soft kiss.

You roll your eyes, he was going to keep calling if you didn't pick up. You huff, giving in, ripping your phone from where it sat next to your bed. Reluctantly you answer, your chest tightening waiting to hear the voice on the other end.

"Y/n?" The trepidation in Joost's voice was apparent, "Are you there, schatje?" The inclusion of the pet name made you wince, sounding all too sweet for your displeasure with him at the moment. Usually, you'd revel in his compliments and sweet nothings- but not now, you couldn't.

Things had been unusually hard lately, only exacerbated by the fact that Joost had been away on tour. It seemed like all the two of you had done in the last few weeks was fight. Usually about petty, little things- things that didn't even really matter but in the moment they seemed like everything. Half the time you couldn't even remember what the arguments were about, all that remained were bitter feelings and tear stains that lingered on your cheeks.

It had all culminated last night- a screaming match unparalleled to any other petty argument the two of you shared in recent weeks. You knew deep down that neither of you had meant any of the horrible, venom-dripped words you had spit at each other. But right now it felt impossible to ever forgive, much less forget.

"I'm here." You respond, short, monotone- trying not to give too much away about how you were feeling.

"Oh, y/n," He breathes, "I've been worried, I've been trying to talk to you since last night."

"I saw." You answer, just as short and uninterested as your last statement. Joost had been blowing up your phone for the last 24 hours- so terribly you had considered blocking his number at least for a little while.

"I know you're mad at me, y/n, but I still worry about you, you can't just ignore me like that." His voice is firm like he's scolding you- but you can sense a pain behind your voice, and if you hadn't been so fed up at the moment, you'd almost feel sorry for ignoring him.

"Oh," You snap, "So you're going to tell me what I can and cannot do now?"

"Why are you looking for a fight, y/n?" He sighs, "I'm just saying I was worried about you, how was I supposed to know what happened?"

"I'm not looking for a fight."

"You're always looking for a fight," Frustration is heavy in Joost's words.

"Is that really what you think of me?" You scoff, covering the ache you feel in your heart with anger.

You hear Joost let out a breath on the other end, "No," You note how tired he sounds as he continues, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that."

"I don't know that. It sounds like you did." You're having none of his apology, weeks of growing resentment were not going to be fixed by one simple apology.

"Mijn lieve meisje" (My sweet girl) He coos, "I don't mean to make you so angry." His voice has softened, a stark contrast to the harsh tone of your own voice, "You know I hate to hear you sound like this- even worse to know I did it."

Something about the gentleness of his voice, and the way he seems so aware of his own role in all of this makes your heart thump- and you almost want to forgive him altogether. But you can't, not right now- not yet.

I hear you breathing on the line... / I leave you hurting every night

"Het spijt me (I am sorry), I want to make things better between us."

"I don't know," You mumble, unsure of if there is even anything that could make things better.

"You don't know how badly I wish I was with you," His voice rich with longing, "I need to make these last few weeks up to you. I miss you liefje, I miss us."

You can't lie, you want that too, wishing so badly just for everything to go back to normal, to no longer have this hole in your chest, for your body to no longer ache with this profound sadness.

"It's just going to be so hard to forget last ni-"

"I know, schatje." He cuts you off, "You have every reason in the world to be angry with me."

"Are you angry with me?" You ask, wondering if he mirrored your own upset feelings towards

"Angry isn't the right word, no." And suddenly your stomach churns with guilt, "I'm just tired of how things have been."

You're tired too, tired of dreading his calls, tired of the tears, tired of the sleepless nights regretting every awful word you've said.

"Me too," You murmur

"I won't force you to forgive me," Joost sighs, "Not until you're ready. But I know you're upset, and I want you to feel better."

His words are so soft, so gentle, melting away your anger with each. careful syllable.

"Can you talk to me, please?" He's practically pleading.

"What do you want to talk about?" You're unsure of what conversation could fill this dead air, how you could possibly talk and things feel okay.

"Tell me what you're doing now," He requests, his words quick.

"I'm just in bed," You shrug nothing special.

"Breaks my heart to think about you all alone in that big bed." You can't tell if the pity in his voice is mocking or genuine.

"I guess it's okay," You had gotten used to the loneliness, it was worse in the first few days he had been gone.

"Mh-mh," he mumbles in disagreement, "Hate thinking about how my pretty girl has to sleep alone every night."

There's a sensuality in his tone that makes you clench your jaw, and your breathing deepen. His pretty girl. His.

"In my bed, at that." He adds.

You supposed he was technically right- you had been the one to move into his apartment.

You hum softly into the phone, not able to come up with many words to say, he seemed more like was simply just thinking out loud than having a conversation.

"I miss you," He says again, "Tell me you miss me too, schatje, I know you do."

There's something about the way he speaks that makes you oblige so easily,

"Miss you too," You mumble, head falling to the side as your eyes close.

"Mmm good," He's practically purring to you, "You're so good."

The praise was simple, you hadn't done much past admitting something the two both knew was true, but it felt like it had been so long since the two of you had spoken so gently to one another, and so you absolutely drank it up.

"You're saying so little, what is on your mind?" He pries like he's looking for something specific.

"Nothing, really." You're entirely self-aware of how boring you must sound to him, but it's the truth- sort of.

He hums in response, "Can I tell you what I'm thinking about?" He asks, his voice oozing with anticipation

"I won't stop you,"

"I'm thinking about you, thinking about how beautiful you must look right now, about holding you, how your body feels against mine, about-" He stops short,

"About..?" You trail off, wanting him to continue his pretty praises. A delightful tingle was beginning to spread through your body, his kind words making you weak.

"More of the same," He says quickly, "Just thinking about being with you now."

A soft smile sweeps over your face at the thought, though you assumed your thoughts now had to be a lot less innocent than his. You couldn't help yourself, you'd been so pent up since he left that the smallest words of adoration were setting you off.

Your hands trail down under the covers, rubbing at your inner thigh, before softly grazing over your panties. You let out a sigh, rubbing soft circles over your clit through the thin lacey fabric.

Your breathing quickens as you deepen your movements, rubbing with more intention now. You arch your back, thinking about how this would be going down if Joost was here, the two of you had never needed to have makeup sex before- but you supposed now was as good of a time as ever to imagine it.

You think about how Joost said he needed to make it up to you, about how the last few weeks had been- at this moment you couldn't have thought of a better way for him to make things up to you than with his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock.

Your pussy ached at the thought of him- the thought of you stretching around him as he mumbles sweet words in your ears about how sorry he is.

You slip your panties to the side, a finger sliding down your now-soaked folds, the contact making you gasp, "Fuck,"

You can hear Joost clicking his tongue on the other end of the line- and suddenly you realize what you had just done, your body growing with an uncomfortable and shameful heat.

"So dirty," He chastizes

"W-what?" You sputter, attempting to feign innocence about what you had been doing.

Who wouldn't let you scream 'oh' into a soft pillow / I'm such an animal, and baby honestly these teeth won't let you go

"It's okay, schatje, you don't have to act stupid," His smirk is audible through the phone, "Don't be embarrassed, keep going, let me talk you through it."

Your body relaxes and your embarrassment subsides.

"Now, will you tell me what you're thinking about?" He asks sweetly

"Thinking," A soft sigh falls from your lips, "About you," Your hand slowly crossing your thighs to return to your throbbing cunt, "About how bad I want you." The words are a struggle to get out as you resume drawing circles around your swollen clit.

"Yeah?" He encourages, and you hear some shifting on the phone, "What do you want?"

"I want," You breathe out, "You," Another breath, "Inside of me."

"Fuck," He groans, his breathing becoming louder, "Want this cock, pretty?"

"Y-yes- ah!" You can't suppress your high-pitched yelp as you slip a finger into your leaking entrance.

"Say it, tell me how much you want me to fuck you." He begs, his voice low and gritty.

"So bad, Joost, need to be fucked so bad" Your words are breathless as you pump your fingers in and out, making your eyes screw shut tight. "Fuck, I haven't had you inside of me in so long, I need it." You feel your lower stomach tightening, pleasure taking hold of you.

"How about my tongue, hm? I'd love to taste you right now, always so sweet for me," Joost sounds just about as breathless as you do right now, and the thought of him on the other end only makes you want to work your fingers harder.

"Uh-huh," You whine, thinking about his tongue lapping at your arousal, his tongue trailing from your swollen clit to your quiver entrance, teasing, before taking a dip inside. "Anything- just need you."

"Oh, you have me, you'll always have me." His words are hungry, and you can tell he's speaking through a clenched jaw, "Fuck, liefje, you have me so worked up like this and you're not even here, love hearing that pretty voice of yours."

You're almost positive you're certainly in an even more worked-up state than he is.

"Mmmneed you to fuck me until I can't walk," You sigh, unable to help but think about him absolutely ruining you, his hands groping your flesh as he pounds into you, unrelenting. "My fingers can't reach as good as you do," You can't help but stroke his ego a little, he deserved it after the hell you had been putting him through.

"Oh," He whines, "arme schatje, (poor baby) I know, I know, just keep working those fingers for me though, okay?"

Despite your fingers not being able to hit all the same places Joost can, the pressure in your body is still building, and you can tell you're losing control, especially as a long string of groaned expletives falls from Joost's mouth, his obvious pleasure only working further to push you to the edge.

"I'm c-close," You stutter, your legs starting to shake.

"Speak up, baby- want to hear how you cum for me."

The pace at which your fingers pulse in and out of you increases, working to bring yourself over the edge. You imagine Joost inside you, imagine him bringing you to an orgasm and cumming all over the length of his cock.

You can't talk now, your words are simply replaced by loud moans and gasps as you hope to god you don't wake up the neighbors.

In the throughs of your orgasm now, your back arched- near screaming, "I-I'm cumming, fuck, Joost," You can't finish the rest of your sentence, all you can focus on is the wave of pleasure that overtakes you, the way the tightness in your body is shattering.

"Hold on," Joost grunts, "I'm almost there- hold on,"

You lay on your back, legs shaking, out of breath, listening to Joost on the other end.

He finishes with one final strained "Fuck"

Neither of you speak for a few minutes,- your mind is racing, your thoughts absolutely dizzying as the silence is only filled by the two of you attempting to catch your breaths.

"Still angry now?" Joost asks, finally breaking the tension.

"I don't think so," You're not, you were way too blissed out to feel anything but complete, overwhelming love.

"So you love me again?" He jokes, chuckling to himself.

"I never stopped."

a/n: i added a pt. II to this, find it here

[thetriumphantpanda]

Eyes Wide Open | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Exhibitionism

Chapter Summary | You want people to watch you, Joel knows exactly how to help you with that.

Chapter Warnings | Are y'all bored of the porn without plot warning yet? Joel takes you to a sex club, public sex, exhibitionism, Joel gets cocky that people like looking at you getting fucked, unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, aftercare, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU. Disclaimer that I've never been to a sex club so I have no idea if this is accurate, but we move. Please be kind.

Word Count | 3.5K

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Shoutout to @hellishjoel for helping me work through the ideas for this one, and shoutout to my dreams for showing me exactly how it should play out. We're on the downhill stretch of the checklist now but it you're still enjoying this then reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

It’s a Friday night, not particularly late by the time you shut your computer down and sit back in the chair with a sigh. The door to your office clicks shut behind you as you walk through to the bedroom, intent on changing out of your work clothes and into something comfy, ordering pizza and spending the rest of the weekend attached to Joel’s side, but it seems like he’s got other ideas.

He’s sat on the edge of the bed, changed from his work clothes, but still looking casual in his jeans and a flannel, but sitting next to him, laid out so delicately on the sheets, is his favourite lingerie set of yours. Skimpy, all black see-through lace that leaves nothing to the imagination, and your trench coat sat next to him, and then your trusty pair of black heels on the floor. He’s smirking, but there’s an air of something nervous about him tonight, which you can tell from the bouncing of his leg and the way he runs his hand over his face.

“Change into this,” He says quickly, tone clipped as he stands, “I’ll wait downstairs.”

And then he’s gone, his heavy footfall giving him away as he walks down the stairs, leaving you a little dumbfounded. Your hands are already reaching to divest yourself of your clothes though, letting them fall into a pile at the end of the bed as you slip on the black lace. You don’t even bother to check yourself out in the mirror, you don’t care what you look like. All you know is that this little ensemble drives Joel wild, and that’s plenty for you, as you slip the black heels on and tie the coat around your waist with a knot.

Downstairs, Joel is pacing, something he rarely does unless he’s nervous. The keys to his truck are in his hand. He doesn’t even speak to you when he wrenches open the front door and motions with his hand for you to go outside. He doesn’t speak to you on the drive into town either. It’s not until he’s pulled up along a random street, outside of a nondescript building that he opens his mouth, but only when you question him.

“You wanna tell me why we’re sat outside some random building?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you with a little sigh, “This seemed like a good idea at the time, but I ain’t sure you’re gonna like it.”

“Try me, Miller.”

Another sigh, “Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about that list again, about you wantin’ people to watch you, watch us, and this was the only thing I could think of,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “It’s a sex club.”

You can feel the smirk growing across your mouth, “Dare I ask how you found a sex club in Austin?”

He grumbles something incoherent which only adds to your amusement of the whole situation, “We don’t have to go in, I know it’s a lot,” He adds, hand finding your thigh under the split in your coat, “Say the words and I’ll drive us back home, unwrap you and fuck you until you can’t walk, it’s up to you baby.”

You take a moment to think, because there is the low bubble of anxiety settling in your stomach. Sure, the idea of someone watching you, admiring you as you get fucked, has always appealed to you. There’s no reasoning behind it, you don’t really know why, it’s just something you’ve always wanted to try. But that doesn’t make the thought of this any easier - it’s a club full of people who probably do this sort of thing all the time, people who have specific things they like to watch, maybe even specific people and what if you aren’t one of them? But, that warm palm on your thigh makes you feel safe, and even if no-one else watches you, he always does.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting from the inside of a sex club on the outskirts of downtown Austin, but it certainly wasn’t this. The inside is beautifully decorated, plush velvet seating, red drapes that section off certain parts of the club, a floor that isn’t sticky, but immaculately clean instead. You were expecting it to smell too, and it does, but not unpleasant in any way. There’s low music playing, and you can certainly hear some of the other people here already having fun, but it doesn’t embarrass you, only makes you more excited.

At the door, someone had explained how things work - there was no obligation to do anything, but if you did want to engage in anything sexual, you had to use one of alcoves that were curtained off. If you wanted people to watch, leave one of the curtains open, and if you wanted them to join in, all you had to do was invite them to do so, but otherwise, they had to watch, and none of them could get themselves off whilst they watched either - the woman explained there were areas to do that elsewhere.

Joel has a hand on your lower back, guiding you over to the bar - strictly no alcohol for obvious reasons - but the bartender makes you a very nice virgin sex on the beach, which is ironic. Joel sips on a 0% beer as you stand and wait to see who makes the first move. You sit and look around, letting the sounds of other women’s pleasure fill your ears, looking at the other couples who are doing much the same as you and Joel are, apart from the fact that you can’t see any of them secretly trying to rub their thighs together for a little relief.

There’s a moment, a little while later, when one of the sets of curtains is pulled back, and a woman, hand-in-hand with a man, walk out, attached at the hip, looking sweaty and sated. You take hold of Joel’s hand, leaving your half finished drink on the bar, and drag him behind the curtain before anyone else has a chance to take it.

“Keen, are we?” He chuckles, watching closely as you close both curtains behind you for now, turning to him.

“Kiss me.”

He walks over to you, lips pressing gently to yours as his hands take hold of the belt keeping your coat together, hands pulling at the knot to undo it, his palms pushing it from your shoulders to leave you standing in just your underwear.

“You want me to open the curtain?” He asks softly against your mouth.

You nod, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls away a little.

“Words, baby,” He says, “Use them.”

You snake your hand around his neck, pulling him back down to your mouth, “Open it,” You demand, “Let them see.”

Letting him go, you walk slowly over to the couch near the back of the room, sitting down on it, crossing one leg over the other as Joel pulls back one side of the curtain. He turns, walking back toward you as he takes off his shirt, unbuckles his belt and leaves both on the floor with your coat. He gently takes hold of your hand, pulling a little to get you to stand up.

Joel settles on the couch, right where you had been sitting before, widening his legs, tapping the material between them for you to sit, which you do, facing the open curtain as you sit between his thighs.

He splays one hand across the naked skin of your tummy, pulling you closer into him, the bulge in the front of his jeans resting against your lower back, the other cradling the side of your face opposite where his lips are currently tracing down your neck and over your shoulder. You close your eyes, let out a soft sigh of pleasure, as your head tips back against his shoulder.

When you open your eyes, there's a jolt of surprise when you see a few people already standing near the open curtain, already watching you. They’re almost casual with it, stood with their arms crossed or leaning against the wall as Joel trails his hand from your tummy to your thigh, widening his own as he pulls yours further apart.

“They’re looking, Joel.” You whisper softly.

“I know, baby,” He coos into your ear, “Shall we give them a show?”

“Yes please.”

It’s all the encouragement he needs, both of his hands coming around your body to cup your tits through the material of your bra, squeezing gently as his teeth start nipping at the skin of your neck.

“Think we should show them how perfect your tits are?” He whispers, fingers dragging up to the straps to slip them off your shoulders, before he pulls the cups down, settling them under your tits to show them off.

Almost like he knows he’s showing you off, parading you in front of people, he brings his palms to the sides of your breasts, pushes them together as your nipples peak stiff in the cool air of the room.

“I think they like you, honey,” Joel’s voice is in your ear again, “Look how many people want to watch you.”

And he’s right, there are a few more bodies that have joined the small crowd that are watching you, as Joel’s hands cup the weight of your tits, his fingers rolling your nipples, drawing a gasp from your mouth as Joel’s hips rock into your back, hard cock digging into your skin, obviously just as affected by by people watching as you are.

“Joel,” You whine, “I need to you touch me.”

“I am touchin’ you, baby,” He chuckles, “You want my hands somewhere else?”

“Please.”

“Given them your tits, now you wanna show them your pussy?”

“Joel, please.”

His hand moves slowly down the bare skin of your tummy and over the lace of your panties, fingers hovering where he knows you’ll be wet, even you can feel the damp material sticking to you. He hooks one of his fingers into the side of your panties, running it over your slick folds a few times as your hands settle on his denim-clad thighs, fingers digging into them as he gently pulls your panties to the side, exposing your core to the people in front of you.

You can hear hums of approval, some people suck in their breath and it makes you preen. Yes, you think, fucking gasp at me, I'm a goddess and look at what this man does to me. Joel’s palm cups your pussy for a moment, his lips still working softly across your neck and shoulder, the roughness of his beard and the way his teeth nip at you sure to leave marks for days.

Then, he drags his palm up, using two of his fingers to spread the folds of your pussy, really showing you off to everyone in front of you. For the first time, you really look at the crowd, there’s not many, many seven or eight people, all stood with their eyes trained on the most intimate part of you, watching as your cunt glistens and flutters around nothing.

“You know what they’re thinking?” Joel asks, his other palm pulling your thighs apart even more, one finger dipping into your slick cunt, dragging the wetness up so he can circle your clit, “They’re thinking this is the prettiest pussy they’ve ever seen.”

He’s got one hand pressed to your belly, dragging you back against him, the other working those tight, precise circles over your clit. Normally, in the privacy of your own home, he’d take his time, but here, any ounce of patience he has is gone. He wants them to see you, wants to know the beauty he gets all to himself, the pussy he gets to do with as he pleases, and most of all, he wants them to know how he makes you cum, almost like he’s proving himself to these strangers. Look at me, look at the man I am, look how well I know this woman’s body and how quickly I can get her off.

It’s all an intoxicating cocktail that has you hurtling towards the finish line in no time. Your head is tipped back against his shoulder again, back arched and hips rocking in time to the movements of his hand, but your eyes are trained on the people in front of you, flitting from face to face as they watch the way your legs start to shake, the way you can clearly see from the front of their trousers how much this turns them on.

“You gonna show them how pretty you are when you come, baby?” Joel asks, hand abandoning your stomach in preference for wrapping around your throat, he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you there, anchors you to his body as his finger circles one, twice, three times more and throws you over the edge.

Fingers still gripping at his thighs, you cry out, moaning his name as his finger slows a little against you but never stops, “Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, “Let it all out for them.”

When you open your eyes, coming down from the high, body warm with pleasure, shaking as Joel’s fingers sink inside you, not to get you off again, but to make sure you’re ready for him, a few more people have joined the crowd now, clearly hearing your cries of pleasure and wanting to know exactly what the fuss was about. Well, you’ve joined just in time, you think, as Joel manipulates you onto your back, leaning back a little to undo his jeans, but not bothering to stand enough to completely take them off, just pushing them down enough to free his cock.

Whilst he fists himself, hand at the base of his cock, you tilt your head towards the people watching you. You’re not stupid enough to imagine they’re all here for you, there are three women dotted in the crowd, and whilst you can never be sure, much like you aren't sure about the men either, you’d like to think some of them are here for Joel, admiring the broadness of him, the thickness of his cock, wondering, imagining they get the opportunity to feel him doing exactly what he does next, which is to sink his cock slowly into your aching cunt.

You’ve spread your legs as wide as you can manage, palms on the underside of your thighs to hold yourself open to Joel as one of his hands props him up next to your head, the other pushing the leg closest to the crowd down, so your aren’t covering what they’re here to see the most.

He drags his cock out of you, almost fully, before he slams his hips back into yours. Your tits bounce with the force, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth, but God it feels good. You’re looking at each other, Joel’s intense brown eyes looking down at your face, your mouth dropped open in pleasure as he sets the pace, drawing gasps and whines from you each time he pushes his cock back into you.

Letting go of your leg once he’s sure you’re in a position where everyone can watch the way his cock is stretching your cunt, he takes hold of your face in his hand, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your cheeks which makes your lips purse a little. He drags your face away from looking at his own, one cheek laying against the material of the couch, looking at the crowd, you catch one man run a palm over the bulge in his jeans whilst he looks you dead in the eye, but it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, it makes you feel powerful.

You can feel Joel’s nose nuzzling at your other cheek, lips pressed to the sweaty skin, “Look at them, baby,” He demands, “All of them watching you get fucked, you like that?”

All you can manage with his hand on your face is a ‘Mmmhmm’.

“I know you like it,” He breathes, “Know how I can tell?” It’s rhetorical, of course it is, “You’re squeezin’ me so fucking tight, baby, and you’re drippin’, so turned on by all these people who wanna fuck you, huh?”

It’s another ‘mmmhmm’ that he gets in response, but your hips are moving up to meet his now, letting the tip of his cock brush so deep inside of you that you see stars.

“What do you think they want to see most?” He asks, breathless in your ear, “Do you think they want to see me fill you up?” But you shake your head in his hand, “No, you’re right baby,” He agrees, “I think they want to see me cover you, paint my cum all over you.”

You know he’s not going to last much longer. You know him, and you know his signs. The way he gets more vocal in your ear, groaning and panting, and the way his thrusts get heavier, sloppier. You know it, he knows it, and the gaggle of eyes on you mean you’re both hanging on for dear life, Joel trying to hold himself back, wanting just one more from you.

Snaking a hand between your body, you circle your own clit, slick and wet and sensitive from earlier as he finally lets go of your face, holds himself up on both him palms planted on either side of your head, hips slamming into yours, lewd smacking of skin and your combined breathless pants the only thing people can hear over the sounds of whatever other people are doing outside of here.

“That’s it baby,” He encourages lightly, “God, you’re fuckin’ perfect around me, make yourself come and then I’ll give you what you want.”

Like magic, you do, body arching up into his, legs hooking around his lower back as you come for him, moaning his name, looking at only him now as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Hold your legs open baby,” He asks, “Gonna give you what you want, okay?”

You’re boneless, palms pressing against your knees to keep you open as Joel slips his cock from your warmth, one hand furiously fisting at himself, the other keeping his body weight off you. You feel the first rope of warmth hit your stomach before he tosses his head back, calls your name out to the ceiling as he covers you in him. Pools of thick, white seed land across your skin as his hand milks every last drop from his cock, the two of you just watch each other for a moment, the only sounds you can hear are you own breath sucking into your lungs and the sounds of what other people are doing outside of your little oasis.

“You okay?” Joel asks softly, leaning forward to press his warm lips to your forehead.

“I’m good,” You smile, “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost surprised as he sits back on his knees, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You run your fingernails over his lower belly, scratching gently as you look at him, “I really liked that.”

When you turn your head a little, the people who had been watching you are already gone, onto the next show, the curtain pulled together to give you both a little privacy. Joel stands, finds a box of tissues on the table next to the couch which he uses to clean you up.

“Did you like it?” You ask, as he readjusts the lace of your under, covering you up.

“Yeah, I did,” He smiles, face cupped in his hands to kiss you, “Liked that they could watch, see how perfect you are, but that you’re only mine.”

You snake your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again, “Can we do this again?” You ask, biting at your lip, almost shy to ask for it.

“Yeah baby,” He smiles, keeping you as close to him as he can as he reaches for his clothes, “You wanna come back here?”

You nod, letting Joel slip your coat back onto you, watching as he ties the knot tight, making sure no-one’s going to see you as you leave, as if some of them hadn’t just watch him rail you to within an inch of your life.

Joel presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as he takes your hand in his, “I’ll bring you back,” He promises, pulling the curtain out of the way so you can make your way on shaky legs out of the club, “But right now, I’m gonna take you home, and we’re going to get in the bath, okay?”

“Okay,” You nod, “Take me home, cowboy.”

[avianyuh]

Yoon Jeonghan as a boyfriend

-

word count; 679

idk if it's because I've been watching a lot of svt content lately

(btw stream god of music)

but Jeonghan has been getting my attention lately so I thought this would be a fun write

first of all he's RUTHLESS

like you're not safe

he'd put you in your place if you said something dumb or tried to leave the house looking all weird

but you know, it's out of love

I think he's also a huge softie, which is shown in his friendships with the members

speaking of the members...

if you didn't get along with the members then...

bye bitch

I think he'd introduce you to Seungcheol and Joshua first

#95z

but for multiple reasons

#1; jeongcheol obvi. they're really close and I think Cheol's approval means a lot to him when it comes to letting someone in

#2; Jeonghan and Shua have known each other for a veryyyyy long time. I think those two were close to each other before anyone else because they had joined the company at the same time

So I think Jeonghan would really appreciate Joshua get to know you

#3; Seungcheol is great with vibe checks lol. Jeonghan probably wants a second opinion

#4;Jeonghan would probably just want you to be closer with Coups and Shua tbh (early on)

but he really wants you to get along with alllll of the members

they mean the world to him and he'd really make the effort to get all of you acquainted and friendly

I'm not saying you have to be besties with the boys (especially cuz there's 12 of them not including han)

but like, if one of the members is at home and doing nothing and you and Jeonghan are going out for the night

Jeonghan would invite his members along unless it was a really special date

it would mean a lot to Jeonghan if you were cool about that kind of stuff because he cares for you but he also really cares for his members

ANYWAYS

he's kind of a homebody

so you spend a lot of time inside

probably build Lego sets together

and when he goes on tour you take care of his pet rock

yes...that's a real thing he has, his name is Doljjong and he likes warm bathes

no seriously

Jeonghan is probably the best thing in your life if you're dating him

I think he'd be protective over you

He'd also probably enjoy taking care of you

making sure you're eating enough and checking in as frequently as he can if he's away

though he teases you a lot, I think he'd tell you he loves you alllll the time

like; "Jeonghan can you pass the remote" "Sure, I love you" "🤦🏻‍♀️"

you pretend you're sick of it but you love it and he knows that

he's very open with carats so if he really found the love of his life, he'd come clean and just show you off

I don't think he'd get caught I think he'd make you come on one of his lives or he'd mention you or something

but like I said, he's very protective and I think he might refrain from showing you off just in case it puts you in harm's way

he worries a lot about you

but it just shows how considerate he is

should I add some shexyyy shtufff???

ummmmmm

okay maybe a little bit

gentle in bed

like the type to brush the hair out of your face

heavy eye contact

I think he'd get shy to be honest

makes sure that NO ONE is around

kisses you everywhere

definitely into praising

just LOVES YOU

he shows it during sex and after

remember how I said he teases you?

I actually don't think he'd tease you during sex

I think he never wants to get his signals crossed

he wants you to know that he loves you

okay end of that

in conclusion; he's a dream man

loves you so so so much

loves being home with you and just being himself around you

he'd also be a great father

like...look at how he interacts with the younger members. he loves them so much and takes such good care of them

definitely think it's a testament to how he'd be as a parent

but even in your relationship, he's very caring with you and just such A BABE

-

enjoy some pics of Jeonghan❤️

{A/N; idk maybe I'll make a svt as dad's series lol. okay, anyways, stream svt god of music. vote for super for SOTY cuz it deserves it and send well wishes to Cheol and Mingyu. might do s.coups next cuz I've been missing him lately😢}

[jackwolfes]

I've been reading smut for nine years so you'd think I'd be able to at least write a little bit of it, right? And yet, the minute it comes to even a kiss scene I get all uncomfy and just can't do it. Lately I've been coming up with so many smut scenes I wanna write but I keep second guessing myself and feeling all embarrassed. Any words of wisdom from a smut veteran like yourself?

i've shared some advice on this in more detail before and also here but the key question i'd ask yourself is: why

like. why are you embarrassed writing smut. why THIS and not writing fluff or whump or very elaborate longfics. because smut is at the end of the day any other type of writing, with just as much feeling and action and weird messy fluids.

"sex is taboo and shameful and i've got catholic guilt" - so fair, we live in a society. but also, sex is natural and a 100% morally neutral act. i'd be surprised if this wasn't underlying some part of the embarrassment but at a certain point, if this is the key thing holding you back, you might just need to sit down and consider whether you want the hegemonic bastards that suck the dick of advertisers and snuff out any sort of difference to be the thing holding you back from what is already a transgressive weirdo hobby. accept that if this is your biggest sticking point, you might not be ready to jump straight into writing a graphic monsterfucking piss play orgy and might have to start with heavy petting and missionary that's more feelings and "i love you"s than descriptions of genitals. and maybe you need to write 10,000 kissing scenes first to build up the courage to write the word "cock", but that's never going to be wasted time. there's no race. you don't need to jump straight in.

"fear of being perceived" - you are the arbiter of who sees this. you can post it anonymously, you can post this under a sock puppet account you made with a completely different email, you can wait until youve written 5 million words and post it all at once, you can literally never ever ever ever ever post it ever. but don't not write it because of an audience that doesn't even exist yet.

"fear of being cancelled for writing something weird" - the ao3 block button is a beautiful, beautiful feature. if someone reads something they don't like, what are they going to do? nark in your comments? whine? launch a smear campaign? fuck em. you should practice good internet safety to avoid getting doxx'd anyway, and if you do literally the only thing they can do is complain, which means all you have to do to get them to shut up is block them

"i like what i'm writing a Bit Too Much and don't know how to process that" - 1) self indulgence is the fucking shit but also 2) the writing is the processing it. writing is a tool that can help you identify the things that get you hot or your underlying opinions on the concept of intimacy and love. and dear god it's fucking awful to be vulnerable but the benefit is very very worth it. also no one's gonna know if you have a wank because you wrote a fic so hot you turned yourself on unless you tell them, so if that's how you gotta process it, then that's between you and god

"it's going to be bad" - it will unfortunately continue to be bad without practice.

if it wasn't immediately obvious from this answer, the only reason i ever got to 'smut veteran' stage was because i got really really fucking shameless about a lot of things, including the fact that i cannot say sexual things out loud, sometimes turn bright red while writing smut, and have still been known to get so embarrassed by a fic that i have to slam my laptop shut and put it away because i can't cope. and i think that part of writing anything that makes you feel that way is acknowledging that 1) you're strong enough to get through that discomfort and 2) a little bit of discomfort is probably worse than not writing anything at all

[cherryo]

i know holloweens over already, but reader dressing up as atomic lass for holloween and donnie absolutely losing it🫣

THE SCREAM I LET OUT WHEN I SAW THIS BIEWUBGUEBW I LOVE LOVE DONNIE AND THE THOUGHT OF HIM LOSING IT OVER A COSTUME LIKE????? YES PLEASE!!!!!!

i am so so sorry that this came out as late as it did,,,, I've been so swamped with work and mental/physical things but!! i worked on this every chance I got <333 also, i really didnt know how to end it, so the ending is a bit off, other than that i hope you like it

also I wanted to make clear that any smut or anything alluding to the turtles being in sexual situations, they are always, always of age!! i don't write minors unless it is pure fluff and nothing sexual.

Pairings: Rise!Donnie X gn! reader pronouns: they/them  word count: 700 genre: fluff and suggestive themes Warnings: Explicit content, suggestive themes, swearing, heavy petting n groping, i think thats it?

Staring in the mirror you realized this might not be the best idea in the world, what if you got something on your costume wrong? What if Donnie didnt like the fact that you dressed up as Atomic Lass? At this point you were fiddling with your purple gloves, you made sure they fit but were still true to the flared version of them. Your heels were purple and even though you were comfortable in heels, these were especially pointy and thin heels, which made them hard to stand in. you sighed, trying to calm your nerves about whether or not Donnie will critique you.

Hearing a knock on your bedroom door startled you, turning around in time to see Donnie poking his head through the crack in the door, seeing if it was okay to come in. “you can come in, darling” giggling under your breath when you noticed he had his eyes closed just in case.

He stepped in, turning around to make sure the door was closed and locked, which he did every time he was in your room for some reason. He turned to see you fully, jaw dropping slightly, he stood there silently looking you up and down.

“Um,,” you deflated a bit when he didn't jump at you, maybe it was shock or him trying to understand what you were trying to do. “I dressed up as Atomic Lass,,, because well i know you like her a lot,,,,and all that” looking down, you started fiddling with your gloves, trying not to cry.

Not noticing Donnie had made it to where you were standing, he reached out and lifted your chin up. His face softened at you, he knew you were nervous about the costume. 

"I love it, i really do” that made you look at him fully, it made you happy that he liked it.

“Really?” your own insecurity seeping in, “of course i do” he hummed a sound of approval.

“I think i like it a little too much,” he had leaned down to whisper in your ear, making you shiver at the meaning of his words. Looking back at him to see his smug ass look, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and he enjoyed every second of it.  

His hands made their way down to your hips, pulling you in by the belt you had made. He pulled you into a hug, smushing his face straight into your shoulder. His breathing was picking up its pace, he moved your hair out of the way allowing your neck to be bare. Donatello started kissing your neck, slowly turning the kisses into nibbles and then into love bites and hickies, he loved the moans and little gasps you let out each time he left another love bite.

One of Donnies hands went to your hip, tapping it to signal for you to jump so he could catch you in his arms, you did just that. His hands gripped your thighs to make sure you didnt fall and had balance, slowly he made his way to your bed, kissing you the whole time. He just couldnt get enough of your kisses, he was addicted to them and fortunately you had an unlimited amount to give him.

  He layed you down gently, being as careful as he could he laid down ontop of you. His kisses just kept getting more and more passionate, you could tell that the costume was doing something to him. His hands went down to your hips, groping and grabbing at them. 

“I think you should dress up more often,” he breathed out between kisses, “ yea? You like your present?”

He let out a low ‘mhm’ in response, he was loving every second.

“Well, maybe i will dress up like this more often if it gets this type of reaction out of you,” he huffed at that, not wanting to admit you have him tied around your finger.

Kissing you even deeper, smushing you into the bed.

[fairycosmos]

I'm sorry to do this bc I know you get so many ppl venting and you have your own shit to deal with and yet ppl on here constantly implicitly ask you to console them which is incredibly emotionally labour intensive. However all that being said. I found out my cat who is 9 but is very young looking and active and shows no sign of pain or suffering has large cell lymphoma (general prognosis 6-9 months) and I'm literally broken. She's my best friend. I've been through years where I've had no friends but I've always had her and she's everything to me and I've known a lot of cats who live to late teens so I had expected that for her and this has come out of nowhere and is just so soul destroying because she is my whole world and I love her so so much. she's literally saved my life (have been at the point of kms so many times but didn't for her) and now she probably wont be here next year and I don't know how to keep existing without her and I didn't know who else to tell. I really appreciate your kind and honest presence on this site it's very cleansing and healing and ik this is a parasocial thing to say/feel but you are like a friend to so many. so thanks. even just having a space to say this stuff is invaluable. You have helped and comforted and offered love and insight to so many people despite your own suffering. Much love to you, I hope the universe treats you with lots of kindness going forward.

i am so so sorry to hear this - sometimes i honestly can't believe how cruel life can be. i wish there was something tangible i could say that would make a change to what you're feeling but my experience with grief (all types of grief esp preemptive grief like what you're dealing with) has proven to me that words often ring hollow when you're going through it. i do want to offer some understanding and some comfort despite that, i just know it may be hard for you to register right now and that's alright. losing a pet is so so deeply painful and it's completely normal to be devastated and taken aback by this news - anyone would be. at the same time it sounds like your cat is deeply lucky to have you and to be loved so completely by someone. while what you're both going through is horrific, i am so glad she has you to take care of her and that she ended up having a wonderful life with you - the gift you have given her and continue to give her every day just by being her owner is huge and i hope you continue to remind yourself that as you confront there next few months. she is warm and fed and taken care of and she has the best chance of living longer with her condition bc of the care and love you continue to show her. i know this is much much easier said than done but please try to take it one day at a time and make every moment count with her - it's easy to get lost in the idea of losing her but she is still here and you still have time together, albeit not as much time as you both deserve. i can't stand how much of a gamble of luck everything seems to be and how horrible things happen to ppl and animals who truly deserve so much more - that anger, despair and incredulity still hits me day after day and i feel it very hard on your behalf rn. you have every right in the world to process that sense of feeling like your soul has been destroyed on whatever timeline works for you. as long as you continue to move forward, hour to hour or minute to minute despite it all.

are you able to talk to any friends/family about this? i only ask bc pet loss is one of the hardest things in the world to go through and i think having some sort of super system could make the days feel a little more manageable. if not, please feel free to message me and share updates, stories, vents etc about your cat and how you're doing - i lost my childhood dog a few yrs back and i do understand. it's such a heavy feeling to carry around with you all the time. i would also recommend joining a pet loss support group as another option too, bc so so many people sadly completely get what youre going through. i hope your little girl is doing OK today and that you are taking care of yourself as much as you feel able to as you process this news. if you need to break down, go to sleep, scream, punch pillows, be numb - that's alright. there's no wrong way to react to this. i just hope you give yourself some grace as you do. sending so so much love to you both - and thank you so much for the insanely kind words by the way. you didn't have to say that and it really made my night better that you did. so sorry you're in this position. X

[love-strike]

Hiii fellow seungkwan enjoyer!! Ive had this crazy idea lately of seungkwan being a hard dom after a crazy long day. He would definitely grunt, telling you how only he can make you feel so good 🫠🫠

seungkwan enjoyer anon my beloved 🫶🏻🫶🏻 tysm for this ask ive had hard dom kwan brainrot for the last few days 🤭! it's like you read my mind~ i obviously got a bit carried away with this and wrote more than intended BUT enjoy!

pairing: boo seungkwan x fem reader rating: explicit (18+) word count: 1k-ish genres: pwp, smut warnings: hard dom meanie seungkwan, but he’s also sweet!, lots of possessiveness, dirty talk, pet names (baby, slut, whore, sweetie), fingering, tiny bit of manhandling, unprotected sex, clothed sex kinda, doggy style, creampie

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

just imagine being at home after work waiting for seungkwan. you keep checking the time on your phone, sighing when you see how late it is. he left so early in the morning and he still wasn't back. earlier that evening he had texted you to say he was working late.

kwan🤍🐻 7:43pm sorry im running so late baby ☹️ eat without me okay?

you 7:45pm awww okay, dont overwork yourself! 💖

kwan🤍🐻 7:46pm ❤️❤️❤️

you throw your phone on the table beside you and flop down on the couch. deciding on a shower to pass the time, you undress lazily and hop in the hot water.

- - - 

after your relaxing shower you throw on just your underwear and one of seungkwan's t-shirts. it smells like his shampoo and the light, cottony cologne that you love so much. suddenly, you hear the front door open and shoes sliding off.

"i'm home," seungkwan calls out and you run over to hug him immediately.

"i missed youuuu," you say dramatically with a pout, making him laugh as he pats your head.

"my poor baby," he coos. "i know how lonely you get, i'm sorry." you look up at him and see his heavy gaze as he looks at you. he looks so handsome with his dark hair parted on the side, white button-up shirt and black slacks.

"s' okay," you mumble out, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom to lay down. you figured he may just want to go to sleep for the night. you find yourself sitting next to him on the bed, seungkwan pecking you on the cheek and holding your hands. he squeezes your hands tightly in his before pulling back and making eye contact with you. his eyes suddenly look intense and it flusters you a bit.

"i've been thinking about you all day," he says as he takes your face in his hands. "today was so stressful. you missed me, right? are you gonna be good for me?"

you let out a breath and nod. he smirks before pulling you into a deep kiss, immediately exploring your mouth with his tongue. you moan in surprise as seungkwan pushes you down on the bed. you clench your legs together on instinct. he notices this, pulling back and chuckling a bit.

"i know how wet you get when i'm rough with you," he whispers, simultaneously dragging his hand down your body to palm at your underwear. "i bet you've been wet all day, just waiting for me to come home and fuck you all night."

"p-please," you whimper out against seungkwan's neck, hands weakly clawing down his back. "take your stress out on me."

he lets out a groan in response, digging his hand into your panties to feel your wetness. he uses two fingers to stroke your already swollen clit, making you curse out loud and push your thighs together at the feeling. seungkwan laughs at you again and it makes your stomach burn with arousal. after a minute or so of rubbing between your folds he slips his middle finger inside of you smoothly, and you moan into his mouth as he kisses you sloppily.

"my needy little slut," he grunts out as he slips his index finger in as well and moves them at a quick pace. "you love laying there and taking everything i give you, huh?"

you moan his name out loudly, nodding and whimpering when he hits your sweet spot.

"want your cock inside me, seungkwannie, please? i need you," you whine, hoping that's enough begging for you to get what you want. he grins, slowing his fingers down to a torturous pace. you can tell he's up to no good.

"i'm the only one who can make you feel like this," he whispers, staring deep into your eyes. his sudden possessiveness almost sends a shiver down your spine. "say it. now."

"y-you're the only one who makes me feel this good, i promise!”

he pulls his fingers out, finally sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing them off the bed. you notice that he’s still fully clothed, and you’re laying there half naked with his t-shirt pulled above your chest. a part of you secretly loves when seungkwan fucks you while he’s still clothed - it turns you more than it should. as if he could read your mind, he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his hard length out. he’s looking down at you like you’re his prey.

“turn over and stick your ass out.”

you pause for a second before his instructions register in your brain. you quickly roll over, getting on all fours and arching your back. you can feel his hands running down your back and grabbing at your ass roughly.

“i’m gonna fuck you like you’ve been wanting, baby,” seungkwan grunts out as he lines himself up to your soaking wet entrance. “gonna fill you up with my cum so you know who owns you.”

you bury your head into the pillow and moan loudly as he enters you, starting off slow but speeding up his pace after a minute. the feeling of him stretching your walls out only turns you on more.

“you like getting fucked from behind like this, right?” seungkwan moans out as he fucks deeply into you. “my good little whore. i love using you like this.”

your pussy clenches even harder around his cock as you whine at his embarrassing words. he knows how much you enjoy it when he teases you. suddenly, you feel his shirt pressing against your back - one of his hands holding your arm down and the other holding tightly onto your hip. 

“cum on my cock, sweetie,” he whispers into your ear and you let out a string of loud curses as your climax hits you suddenly. his cock continues to hit your sweet spot as you ride out your orgasm and whimper due to the overstimulation. seungkwan moans loudly as he watches you cum, speeding up his movements even more.

“are you gonna take all my cum like a good girl?” he grunts out. you nod weakly and moan out please, please, please. “my sweet baby, so good at taking my cock like this and getting fucked full of my cum.”

after a few more thrusts you feel seungkwan’s cock throb as he cums deeply inside of you. you let out a soft noise as it fills you up, savoring the feeling. seungkwan groans and collapses onto your back, exhausted from his own orgasm.

“my clothes are all sticky...” he says defeatedly as you scoff. he rolls off of your back, laying next to you to catch his breath.

“that’s your own fault,” you reply with a giggle. he kisses you sweetly as your eyes start to flutter closed.

“you should rest, i’m gonna get you some water and then take a shower, okay?” he says as he steps out of bed. “oh, also some vitamins since i know you didn’t take any today.”

you smile to yourself and slowly drift off to sleep.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

[thatwouldbee-enough]

😅🎢🎶🛠⛔🌞❌💲🧐🎃🦅👀🤗💞🤲😬⌛ anyfandom!

Ahhhh thank you so much for this! Sorry it took a while there were so many to answer <3

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Anything from the very very early days of my AO3 account lol. They weren't bad but there's definitely so many things when I go back and read them where I would write things a lot differently now

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oh man. Interpreting wildest ride in two different ways here.

1 (craziest/most disturbing): Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind

2 (wild ride plot-wise): Fate and the Fall

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yes!!! Some songs from recent writing playlists:

this is me trying by Taylor Swift

The Cause by Tommy Lefroy

Paul Revere by Noah Kahan

reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine

Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius

Partners in Crime by FINNEAS

tolerate it by Taylor Swift

Colorado by Renee Rapp

You Could Start a Cult by Niall Horan w/Lizzy McAlpine

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

So many 😬

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Honestly either early in the morning right after I wake up or middle of the night lmao. Middle of the night has given me some of my best writing for real but at what cost

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I don't like to say never on any tropes because I think with the right idea any trope can be done well. Some things that I tend to stay away from are heavy mental health fix it style stories because 1) I don't feel qualified enough to write that well and 2) I don't find them super interesting usually. Exploring darker storylines is always more fun for me, or mayyyybe the occasional fluffy romance lol

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

For fanfiction based on someone else's intellectual property, no, because there are legal issues there. For writing in general maybe, but I don't see a huge market for that

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Way too much time

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Occasionally! Maybe Sleigh Bells Ring for a favorite. Most of the holiday pieces I've written have been very fluffy lol

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

It's a mix. Usually seat of my pants, but if I have a lot of details worked out in my brain already then I'll outline

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I have a TBOSAS piece that I'm working on where Coriolanus's punishment after cheating in the Games is to be sold as a sex worker (similar to how Finnick was in THG series) rather than being forced to enlist with the peacekeepers and he ends up with Strabo Plinth as a client.......

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I cannot recommend enough just... doing it. Everyone worries so much about it not being good enough, but just like every other skill, you'll never get better without practice and just doing the damn thing over and over again.

Also read a lot. Read fanfic and actual books. You pick up a lot of things as a writer when you're reading other people's work. Sometimes you'll see certain ways of writing dialogue or inner monologues that you love and want to incorporate into your own writing. Sometimes you'll see things that pull you out of the story or don't flow well, and you'll learn that it's something you don't want to include in your writing. All of it is useful.

And MOST importantly, please please please learn how to properly format your dialogue 😭 (this is just a pet peeve of mine, but SO MANY fics don't have proper dialogue formatting)

ex: "This is the correct way to format a spoken sentence," she said sternly. "When you write a spoken sentence followed by a dialogue tag, the dialogue tag is PART of the sentence, so you should end the 'spoken sentence' with a comma, and then add the dialogue tag (starting with a lower case letter if it's not a proper noun), and then the sentence ends."

"This is correct too!" she exclaimed.

"This is also correct," she explained, "because the dialogue sentence hasn't ended, it was just interrupted. When dialogue is interrupted, but the sentence hasn't ended, the dialogue tag is surrounded by commas, indicating a whole, ongoing sentence."

INCORRECT EXAMPLES:

"This is not the correct way to format a spoken sentence." She said, crying a little bit on the inside.

"Neither is this!" She exclaimed.

"And neither is this." she sighed, rubbing at her temples as intentionally writing dialogue incorrectly began to trigger a headache.

💞 Who's your comfort character?

For Hamilton/Amrev, it's probably Hamilton. Sorry, basic bitch answer.

For TBOSAS it's Sejanus <3

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

A snippet from the TBOSAS AU with Coriolanus and Strabo Plinth that I mentioned above 🙈

But fighting? Fleeing? He thought back to the arena. The way his heart had pounded as he smashed at Bobbin until he laid unmoving on the ground.  He refused to let that sort of response control him again. He was better than base instincts. Especially here. This wasn’t life or death. All he had to do was play things smart, and he would come out on top again eventually.  And then everyone who ever tried to make him feel small would pay. 

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Literally any of the smut lmfao.

But specifically the Henry Laurens/Alexander Hamilton fucked up intern AU, Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind, and A Royal Affair are probably all up there for top contenders

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Highly dependent on a lot of different variables (what I'm writing/whether it requires research/what else is going on in my life/level of motivation and focus/etc). Anywhere from a couple of hours to a month lmao

[hisadoringkitten]

18 days...

I fell asleep writing my journal last night. I'm not complaining, I desperately needed the sleep. I did a slightly petty thing last night... he's been drinking a ton and being aggressively loud alone in the living room at night. Slamming cabinet doors, pacing with heavy foot falls, whisper-yelling at his games. It's making it hard to sleep, making me paranoid. I made myself a drink before he got home that killed the mixers, and most of what little was left of the handle of rum he bought 2 days ago, and I haven't touched. I slept better, being good and tipsy and knowing he couldn't get out of control drunk (at least not without leaving the house).

Yesterday was a little better. I worked on the website I've been using to learn on and made really good progress the last few days. So much so that I think I'm ready to tackle the other 2 that have been waiting in the wings.

The lady from the Census Bureau had stopped by the day before and watched me struggle with the too-short hose they sent me from Amazon and was here when the damn thing popped. I didn't know hoses could do that. I had been trying to fill the kiddie pool I got for my kids so they'd have an easy way to cool off with the AC not working. She came back yesterday with a hose she claimed was from her house but looked brand new. It was incredibly kind of her. She even said she doesn't need it back before we move and will stop back by closer to that time to retrieve it. I filled the pool, and the kids had a great time playing in it.

We messaged a lot while you were at work, and you made a little time to talk after. I'm so grateful. I miss you so much, and it's hard when you're low-contact, especially with how much I'm struggling right now. I'll be so glad when this is over.

He's been volatile lately... drinking a lot. I'm trying to stay out of his way. I worked from the bedroom yesterday until he left for work. I know the tension is affecting the kids, too. There's a big sigh of relief from the whole house when he leaves. Tomorrow is when we've planned to tell the kids we've split up and that I'm not coming with them. It's going to be hard. Too hard. On one hand, I'm not looking forward to the conversation, the high emotions, or the endless questions I'm sure they'll have, some of which I'm sure I don't have answers to. On the other hand, I'll be glad to have it done. It's been hanging over me, and I've been dreading it for so long... I've been walking on eggshells with how I talk about the move, not wanting to lie to them, I've been choosing my words carefully.

I'm worried about keeping it together. I've cried so many times the last few weeks. I know it's not something you want to hear, and I won't act on it, I swear, but I've been fighting suicidal ideations. Feeling like this would all be so much easier without me. Like the kids would be better off without being torn from place to place. Feeling like a huge burden to you and your family.

Knowing something shifted with that visit and not knowing how to talk to you about it is killing me too... I feel like the intimacy got dialed way back. There's been no talk of being your perfect pet, no mention of longing or desire, nothing of the things you'll do to me, no sexy pictures, no real response when I try to initiate, no protocol, no discussion of us. It's been talking about our days, work, and plans for the future that still include me but feel like they're in a close friend and employee capacity, demands for trust and obedience which you already have.

I can only guess as to why. I know you've been struggling with the trauma from your ex. I hate her for hurting you like that. Maybe some of it skirted too close on my visit, maybe it moved too fast, maybe that spark didn't reignite for you like it did for me, maybe the reality didn't live up to the fantasy... or maybe I was such a disappointment that you lost interest altogether and only want the control and dominance asoects over me. I don't know. I only know it feels cold and distant, and I long for that level of intimacy back. It makes me question myself and us, and it feels like being taunted with everything I've wanted for so long. I know we have to downplay the relationship around your daughter and around where I'm moving to because of your work. I worry that we'll get so accustomed to it that the real intimacy will never get to grow. That we'll be friends with occasional benefits, and I'll just take your advice and direction... that the high protocols, the deep bond, the sexual connection will only be glimpses and fleeting moments, if that.

I wish I knew how to fix it.

[ducky-died-inside]

Wrecked: Camilo x Fem Reader

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, sad Camilo, heavy angst,

Genre: Angst

Summary: You die and Camilo goes into a spiral of depression

Notes: I'm sorry to my fluff people. I promise you I have fluff content coming, I just need to get the angst out of my system first. You die about a month before the movie takes place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You threw at your head back in laughter at something Camilo had said, your hair shining in the sun. He was staring again.

"I love you, mi camaleón"

He smiled at the pet name and decided to respond with one of his own.

"I love you more, mi vida."

Your face flushed bright red, still flustered by the pet names even after about 4 months of dating. Dios mio, this boy loved you so much. His first love and he already knew he would spend the rest of his life with you. If he ever lost you, he would become a wreck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were gone. You'd been gone for half a year. Taken by a disease that not even Julieta's arepas could heal by the time you found out about it. Sure they helped, but the disease won anyway. That last month when you and Camilo knew, was one of best and worst of your life.

Since you'd been gone, Camilo would still help the townspeople but not as energetically as he used too. He still smiled, but it never reached his eyes. He was ruined. He was devastated. He would often just sit in his room, staring at his wall. He was destroyed. He still wasn't able to visit you until one day. Your birthday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He made his way over to your headstone and started to talk to you.

"Hey Y/N. It's been a while. A lot has happened since you, since you...left." Camilo started to cry. "Casita fell and rose again, Tonito got his gift and can talk to animals." Camilo's voice broke. "I tried dating again, but it just felt hollow and empty. I tried to flirt again, but just felt guilty. I tried to kiss again, but I just felt shame. I couldn't love anyone like I did you and that wasn't fair to these girls." Camilo fell into a disarray of tears and self loathing. Why couldn't he just move on already? Why couldn't he just love again? Camilo started to talk again

"Days pass by and my eyes stay dry, and I think that I'm okay

'Til I find myself in conversation, fading away

The way you smile, the way you walk

The time you took to teach me all that you had taught

Tell me, how am I supposed to move on?

These days I'm becoming everything that I hate

Wishing you were around but now it's too late

My mind is a place that I can't escape your ghost

Sometimes I wish that I could wish it all away

One more rainy day without you

Sometimes I wish that I could see you one more day

One more rainy day

Oh, I'm a wreck without you here

Yeah, I'm a wreck since you've been gone

I've tried to put this all behind me

I think I was wrecked all along

Yeah, I'm a wreck

They say that the time will heal it, the pain will go away

But everything, it reminds me of you and it comes in waves

Way you laugh when your shoulders shook

The time you took to teach me all that you had taught

Tell me, how am I supposed to move on?

These days I'm becoming everything that I hate

Wishing you were around but now it's too late

My mind is a place that I can't escape your ghost

Sometimes I wish that I could wish it all away

One more rainy day without you

Sometimes I wish that I could see you one more day

One more rainy day

Oh, I'm a wreck without you here

Yeah, I'm a wreck since you've been gone

I've tried to put this all behind me

I think I was wrecked all along

These days when I'm on the brink of the edge

Remember the words that you said

Remember the life you led

You'd say, "Oh, suck it all up, don't get stuck in the mud

Thinkin' of things that you should have done"

I'll see you again, my loved one

I'll see you again, my loved one

Yeah, I'm a wreck

I'll see you again, my loved one

Yeah, I'm a wreck without you here (loved one)

Yeah, I'm a wreck since you've been gone (I'm a wreck since you've been gone)

I've tried to put this all behind me

I think I was wrecked all along (I'm a wreck)

Yeah, I'm a wreck

Sometimes I wish that I could wish it all away but I can't

One more rainy day without you (one more rainy day)

Sometimes I wish that I could see you one more day but I can't

One more rainy day"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the Casita, it was time for dinner. Everyone was busy getting ready for dinner with your parents. Everyone was in a somber mood, not wanting to think about your tragedy. Pepa was in a fret looking for her son, causing a bit of a storm.

"Dolores, can you try and listen for him, please?" Félix asked while trying to calm Pepa.

Dolores nodded and as she heard her brothers cries at the cemetery, she started to cry.

"Give me a second to go and get him, Papi. He's at the cemetery."

Félix gave his daughter a nod as he soothed Pepa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dolores came to your headstone only to find Camilo shape-shifting uncontrollably, as he poured his heart out, kneeling next to your grave.

"Oh, hermano." Dolores hurried over to him and he sobbed into her shoulder as his shifting started to calm down until he stayed as himself.

"I know you don't want to leave, but Y/N's parents are at the Casita waiting for you so we can do dinner."

Camilo slowly looked up at his sister and got up.

"Let's go Dolores. I'm ready to face them, and I'm bringing Y/N with me." Camilo gave your headstone a sad smile and walked towards the Casita. He may have gotten some closure, but he was still a wreck. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well I'm sad now. I probably won't be able to get to bed tonight without crying, but that is my own fault.

I am so sorry to my fluff people again, I am just feeling too much angst right now, but I promise you I will write fluff stuff you you guys!

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

-

-

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter Nine)

A/N: Don't listen to 5sos4 or WFTTWTAF when you're writing fanfic, melancholy and angst do not go well together. Thanks for giving me a chance, and thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Word Count:3,060

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst (Obvi), flashbacks, some hate for Bucky...If I missed any, lemme know!

Your face prickled, the cold biting the tender skin on your cheeks, breath visible in the night. You clutch your coat tighter, easing the goosebumps that had formed on your arms. The late-night brought a chill, leg bouncing in anticipation as you waited for Bucky on the bench. He had asked you to meet him on the Brooklyn bridge since he had something to tell you.

You didn't think anything of it, the bridge being your regular spot to meet up, either for lunch or just to have a chat. Though, you couldn't help but feel something was off in his tone of voice. You brushed it off, convincing yourself that it was just Bucky being Bucky. Perhaps, he was still taking the whole Steve thing pretty hard. You knew that you were. Even though a month had gone by, you were still pretty messed up about Tony and Nat. You stood suddenly, eyes capturing a figure sauntering their way over to where you sat but, you knew right off the bat that it was Buck.

He was dressed warmly, hands tucked into the pockets of a somewhat tufted jacket and a dark green beanie to match. The ends of his long hair flipped out, dimples hiding beneath the surface of his beard.

"Hey," You greeted, a grin pulling at your lips once he came into view, letting you see his soft but rugged features under the soft glow of the twinkle lights above you.

"Hey, sweetheart," He replies softly, the half corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile but, it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sorry for dragging you out into the cold like this," He apologizes, pulling his flesh hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. Apprehension. A tick, a tell, something he did quite often when it came to a topic that brought up the anxiety within him. He was anxious, and you didn't know why.

You felt your heart drum erratically, the mere use of a pet name driving you out of sort, but you knew how to hide your excitement. "Do...don't worry about it," You stammer, waving your hand in dismissal to his apology. "I needed a break from packing up my room in the Avenger tower anyway. So...." You drag, gesturing your hand to the bench so you both can sit but, Bucky shook his head. He couldn't sit down, he felt as if standing would make what he had to say a bit easier but, that couldn't be further from the truth. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" You begin to fidget with your gloved fingers, growing nervous as the vibe had shifted around you. "You sounded nervous on the phone,"

"Yeah," Bucky swallowed, feeling a knot forming in his chest, and it had started to ascend. He was nervous, nervous about the way you looked and how the cold had made your cheeks even pinker, how the light chatter of your teeth had created a soft hum, drowning out the busy sounds of the city. Nervous about the way you looked at him, how you didn't see him as a killer, despite the stories he knew you had heard about him, how you only ever saw him as Bucky, a man, a friend. Nervous about how much you cared about him and, he could never understand why you did. It scared him- so much. "I've been thinking a lot about this...about us," He huffed, gesturing in the space between your bodies.

"Us?" You found yourself frowning, your eyes flickering to his hand, "What about us?" You mumble, tilting your head to the side in confusion. You didn't know there was an 'us' when it came to Bucky and you. You had never talked about your friendship before and, you always assumed you were just friends. Did he want something more?

Bucky took a heavy breath, the cold making it visible. "I don't want to lie to you, Y/N. You and I met at a strange time. With you helping Steve clear my name, to staying with me in Wakanda...I appreciate that...I do," He reassures, his eyes on your own. "But-"

"I stayed with you because I wanted to," You said firmly, your frown etching deeper while you cut him short, not letting him finish his sentence. "Not because you or Steve asked, but because I wanted to. So, don't stand there and recount what I did for you as if it was against my will. If you didn't want me there, you could've said something." You couldn't hide the way his words panged at your chest, you didn't want it to bother you, but it did. You drew in your bottom lip, holding it with your teeth to stop it from trembling.

Bucky stared at you, lips slightly parted, noticing the tears shimmering in your eyes. He already knew how this was going to end, and as much as it was going to hurt him, it was going to hurt you worse, but he had to keep going. "I can't do this anymore, doll. Not with you," He finally said, the words like sandpaper scraping against his tongue.

You felt your heart sink to your stomach while you blinked back the tears you knew were going to fall. "Do what?" You croaked, fists forming at your sides to project the sorrow that was conjuring in your blood. "Do what, Bucky?!" You yelled, causing him to jump in surprise. You were pissed, but most of all, disappointed.

"This, Y/N!" He shouted back, his eyes hardening at the sight of the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks. "I can't keep pretending like bringing you into all my shit is not selfish. It is," He nodded, almost like he was telling himself, but you weren't buying a word. "It isn't fair to you."

"Answer the damn question, Barnes!" You hissed, pressing him for the real answer instead of some bullshit lie he was spewing out. You knew there was some truth to it, but he was also holding something back, something that he was refraining from saying.

Bucky shook his head, ignoring the guilt that had started to settle in as he tucked his hand back into his pocket. "I can't..." He murmured, his brows furrowed as he broke eye contact."I need time to think and I work better alone," he said while turning to walk away.

"Bucky!" You called after him, the soft whine in your voice almost drawing him back. It made him want to grab you and pull you into a hug while he apologized a thousand times but, he kept going, holding onto the will of walking away from you. "Please don't leave me," You croak, hot tears rolling down your frigid cheeks as you watched the man you loved walk out of your life.

"Y/N!"

Your eyes shoot open, the mosaic tiles above the ceiling coming into view as you blink back the fatigue in your eyes, the sound of Sam's voice clear as day. "Yeah...?" You murmur, gently turning your head to view him across the room, seated at the island, hands hovered above the keyboard of his laptop.

"You okay?" He asks, swiveling his body towards you, concern etched into his forehead. "You sounded like you were having a nightmare," He explains, eyes flickering down to the tile, "You kept saying Bucky. You wanna talk about it?"

You swallow thickly, wiping the tears that had fallen down the side of your face as you sit up from the blue velvet sectional. "I uh-" Before you could answer, the sight of Bucky walking in made your mouth snap shut, your eyes focused on the winter soldier now.

"Well, the Wakandans are here!" He announces, sauntering over as he looked around Zemo's safe house, making sure there wasn't any possible threat. "They want Zemo, I bought us some time."

Sam rips his brown eyes away from you, making a note to ask you about the dream later as his focus resettled on Bucky, flickering back and forth between him and the French doors. "Were you followed?"

"No," Bucky reassures him, his footsteps halting behind the kitchen counter as Zemo steps out from the bathroom, wrapped in a royal blue bathrobe.

"How can you be so sure?" Zemo asks, tilting his head in curiosity, waiting for the winter soldier to answer.

"Because I know when I'm being followed."

You remain silent, forearms resting on your knees as you looked forward, a deep frown etching onto your forehead. You didn't know what brought it on—the dreams. And you didn't understand why they were coming on right now. The familiar pain had started to rush back, finding yourself growing slowly angry all over again. You stood suddenly, pushing off your knees to stand. You needed to get some air before you blew up on someone who didn't deserve it.

"Where are you headed?" Sam asks, capturing your in his peripheral as you snatch your coat from the sofa with a hint of frustration. Sam's eyes flicker to Bucky, sharing a confused look as they both watch you feed your arms through the sleeves of the coat. "Are you okay?"

"I need some air, " You grunt, ignoring obvious stares from the men whilst you buttoned your coat. You head for the doors, pushing them open as you made your way through the hall and down the flight of stairs. As unfamiliar as you were with the area, you just needed some space.

"I wonder what that was about?" Zemo ventures, pouring himself a glass of the amber-colored liquid. "She was fine before you came in." He comments, gesturing over to James with his glass. Though he couldn't quite place the concern for you, Zemo knew it had something to do with James.

"I don't know," Sam murmurs, hand-looming over the back of his laptop as he folds it shut. "I'm gonna go talk-"

"No," Bucky instructs, a sigh coming through. "I'll go," He suggests, dropping his hand from the bottle of bourbon. "I might know what it's about." Bucky, not giving a chance to respond, pushes through the french doors as well, going after you.

It didn't take a genius to see the tension between the two of you. Bucky could see it behind your bright eyes, the hatred, the disappointment in him but, most of all, he could see the hurt behind your eyes. There was so much left unsaid and he had been trying to find the right time to get you alone.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about it. For weeks he had been sitting on the idea, taking what little advice he wanted from his therapist on how to reconnect with you. Of course, he told Dr. Raynor about his relationship with you. It took a while for Christina to get him to open up and once she did, Bucky couldn't help but spill the beans about what he did to you. Though, he could never get up the courage to pick up the phone and give you a call.

Bucky's footsteps came to a halt, spotting your pretty face through the glass windows of a small cafe. He cracked a soft smile, his fingers wrapping around the door handle, pulling it open. The bell chimed above his head, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets, letting the door close behind him. Bucky drowns out the light chatter, sauntering over to your table in the far right corner of the cafe. "You can speak Lettish?" He asks, boots coming to a stop right in front of your table.

"What?" You grumble, looking up from your latte, setting it back into the small plate to meet his baby blues.

"The...coffee," he points out. "I'm just asking because you ordered a coffee."

"No, the cashier knew English," You reluctantly explain, not really in the mood to speak with him. Figures—Out of the three of them, the one you didn't want to speak with would come to check on you.

Without you asking, Bucky pulls up a chair, plopping right across from you, placing his folded hands on the table. "Oh, I thought-"

"Why?" You blurt out, "Why did you leave?" You knew as soon as those words left your lips, you were going to instantly regret it but, you had to ask. You had to know the reasoning behind his motives. You couldn't stand to be on the outside anymore.

"Doll-"

"No, because..." You insist, not letting him get a word in—not yet. "I genuinely want to know why. I spent five years, Buck," You say, breath trembling as you break eye contact. "I spent five brutal fucking years mourning you after the snap. I didn't know what to do with myself, I spent every goddamn night just wishing that you'd come back to me and when the blip happened? I thought—Finally. I finally have him back. And for you to just decide that I wasn't enough for you, that's-"

"Now hold on," Bucky interrupts, leaning forward as he tried his best to keep his voice down. Your mouth snaps shut, waiting for his response or rather excuse. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me what was and wasn't enough for me, that belongs to me!" He quietly shouts, pointing at his chest. "And you were enough, goddammit, you were more than enough, okay?"

You stay silent, chest rising and falling, letting him continue.

"It was me, sweetheart," Bucky whispers, his voice softening as well as his eyes. "You were never the problem, you have to believe that. And I know, alright? I know that it was a dick move to push you away and cut you out of my life completely but, I was a mess. I was dealing with so much, and I just needed some time to sort through my shit."

"I remember that," You grumble, recounting what he had said to you that night on the bridge. "My dreams never let me forget it. Listen, I know you lost Steve, I get that, I lost him too. But when you left...?" You shake your head, drawing in your bottom lip, nibbling on it as you rip your eyes away from Bucky. "It was as if I had lost you to the snap all over again."

Bucky didn't know what to say, he didn't know what you had gone through, since it didn't feel like five years to him, it was only five seconds for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like a complete asshole because he was. "Y/N, I didn't...I didn't know." He sighs, only earning a head shake from you as a response. "I lost myself, I was just starting to remember things that I thought I'd forgotten and I didn't want to place the weight of that on you,"

Your eyes shifted to the espresso in your mug, drinking in his words to fully digest them. It was harder than you anticipated, listening to what he had to say when all you wanted to do was punch the living shit out of him for hurting you, but you refrained, the sheer thought at the back of your head.

"Then, I started therapy. I got to talkin' with Dr. Raynor and she sorta helped, even though I wasn't completely honest with her about the shit going on inside my head, she still helped. Granted, the sessions were mandated by the state," Bucky sighs again, growing impatient with your silence but, he knew you were just letting him explain his side. "I had no intention of hurting you, doll. Even if I knew it was going to, I didn't want to. I just had to work out things myself. I'm sorry,"

"And you could've told me that," You mutter, your expression dull as you finally met his eyes. "I would've taken a step back and given you the space you needed. Instead, you took a shitty route and made me think I was nothing as if those years I spent with you meant jack." You stand up, reaching into your coat for some cash. "So..." Your eyes drag up to his, "You can take your apology and shove it right up your ass." You snarl, slamming twenty euros on the table. You pushed in your chair and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Bucky alone with the same words he had said to you on the bridge.

"Fuck me," He groans, leaning back in his chair before he stood up, "Y/N, wait!" Bucky calls after you, pushing his chair in before following you.

"I have nothing to say to you, Barnes." You say firmly, pushing the doors open to Zemo's safe house, your shoes tapping against the tile as you made your way inside, Bucky hot on your trail.

"Yeah, but I do!" He yelled, his tone firm and stern. "I'm not done talkin' about this."

Sam and Zemo looked between the two of you, their eyes wide at the scene before them. And if either of them were being honest, they wished they were anywhere but here.

"What's there to talk about?!" You turn on your heel, meeting his eyes but, keeping your distance. "I let you speak, I let you give your side. Now, this is mine, I'm done, okay?" You verbalize, splaying your hands out in frustration. "So, if it makes you feel better...I accept your apology. There, can we end it now?"

"No, it doesn't make me feel better. Why the hell would it make me feel better when you still hate me?" He huffed, not giving two shits if Sam and Zemo were in the same room.

You groan, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. He was not getting it at all. "Oh my god-" Before you could boil over, your phone buzzes in your back pocket. Bucky sighs, watching you as you looked down at your phone. Saved by the bell.

"Great," You mutter, your eyes reading every word of the article that Torres had sent your way. "Karli bombed a GRC supply depot," You inform, looking over your shoulder at Sam, ripping your eyes away from your screen.

"What?" Sam breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the damage?"

"Eleven injured, three dead. they have a list of demands," You explain, turning your body away from Bucky. "-And are promising more attacks if those demands aren't met in full."

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

[robininthelabyrinth]

My fav MDZS stories are ones where Mo Xuanyu lives and WWX takes him under his wing when the Sacrifice Summons goes slightly wrong. I would love to see your version of this au bc your writing is very very good and I've fallen in love. However you want to character MXY is fine, but I know you'll make him compelling.

also on ao3 because long

“It’s not wrong if you write it down,” Mo Xuanyu muttered to himself like a mantra as he scribbled down a rough explanation of what he was going to do. “If you write it down, it’s just an experiment, and that makes it okay.”

That’s what they used to say back at Koi Tower. Not all of them, no – most people didn’t talk to him, stupid shy useless stuttering bastard that he was.

But Jin Guangyao had smiled at him, smiled the way he smiled at everyone no matter how lowly, and Mo Xuanyu, flattered at the unfamiliar feeling of positive familial attention, had tentatively smiled back. That had been a mistake, of course, but he hadn’t realized it at the time – he was still young, then.

He hadn’t been crazy, then.

(Had he? He didn’t remember. The screaming nightmares weren’t until later, after he’d swallowed down that medicine that Jin Guangyao gave to him, that he’d forced down his throat with Xue Yang holding his shoulders down – they’d been regretful about it, he remembered that. That’d been nice. No one’d ever been sorry about what they’d done to him before. Or after, for that matter.)

That came later, though. Towards the end. The experiments – that was earlier, wasn’t it?

Yes. Back when Jin Guangyao still thought he might be useful, and he let him follow him around; back before Xue Yang had disappeared – wait, if Xue Yang had disappeared, who’d held him down? – back when he still called him Xue-gege because Xue Yang thought it was funny, and if he did that he could sit around in a place where no one would find him and watch while Xue Yang did…stuff.

Usually bad stuff.

Still, it was better than being anywhere else in Koi Tower. With Madame Jin, who hated him and threw things at him, just like Auntie Mo did, and his father who wanted him to talk about girls (Mo Xuanyu didn’t know anything about girls), and all the people who giggled at him and talked about him behind their sleeves as if he couldn’t still hear them.

If you write it down, it’s just an experiment, Jin Guangyao told him, smiling, because he always smiled. That’s why what Xue Yang does is okay.

Xue Yang taught him the basics of drawing arrays, how to hold the brush in your hand and push spiritual energy into it. Mo Xuanyu didn’t have very much, so it made him very tired and then he dropped the brush; that made Xue Yang laugh at him, push him down until his face was on the ground so he could get a better look at what he was drawing, and then he got bored and pulled him back up to try again.

It was still better than being taught by the Jin sect cultivators who sneered at him and ordered him to get hit with boards any time he made a mistake, and Mo Xuanyu made a lot of mistakes.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t like to talk to people much, wasn’t very good at it. Wasn’t much good for anything, really.

Except this, he supposed. This was something he could do.

Xue Yang taught him the basics of drawing arrays, but it was only ever the basics – as soon as he figured out how to do it, Jin Guangyao took over the teaching, and he only ever wanted Mo Xuanyu to learn one array in specific.

It didn’t have a name. It was an ancient, forbidden technique; those didn’t get names. Jin Guangyao’d found it in a book, hidden on an abandoned old mountain – a place where lots of people died in a battle a long time ago, and then again not so long ago – and he’d thought it was just right for Mo Xuanyu.

The array required blood, blood of the caster, incisions all over – painful ones – and the point of it was to offer up your body to some extremely villainous ghoul so that it could take revenge for you.

“But I don’t want revenge,” he’d told Jin Guangyao, plaintive and naïve. “And I don’t know any villainous ghouls.”

“You don’t have to ask for revenge,” Jin Guangyao had told him, patient. He was always patient when he wanted something. “You can ask for something else, if you want. Revenge is just the usual reason.”

“Not many things besides revenge are worth sacrificing your soul for,” Xue Yang had opined, and Jin Guangyao had glared at him like he’d said something stupid. “What? It’s true.”

“We’ll discuss the Chang clan later, Chengmei. I was talking to Xuanyu.”

Mo Xuanyu had been poking at the manuscripts, feeling doubtful, and Xue Yang’d huffed and grabbed them. “Don’t touch the papers! Wei Wuxian didn’t leave much behind; I’m not losing the bit we got.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Mo Xuanyu had said, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. He didn’t know much, but even he’d heard about the Yiling Patriarch. “Is he the villainous ghoul you want me to summon?”

“No,” Xue Yang’d giggled. “He wants you to bring back Nie Mingjue.”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t known that name – he really didn’t know anything – but the weeks that Jin Guangyao thought that he could one day become him were probably the best in his life. He’d never been petted or coaxed before, never been treated so well; he ate nice food every day, wore nice clothing, slept as late as he liked, took lots of baths…Jin Guangyao wanted his body to be in good condition before he did the ritual. He gave him lotions to make his skin feel soft, used medicine to nourish his organs, spent hours and hours teaching him to braid his hair the way the Nies did, all complicated and pretty yet practical.

(“He’ll hate it so much,” Jin Guangyao whispered in his ear on the nights he let Mo Xuanyu share his pillow. “Soft and decadent and weak – you’ve got the weakest golden core I’ve ever seen, Xuanyu, weaker even than me, and you’re too useless to even have any ambition to make it stronger. I could push you down with one hand, overpower you, make you crawl…no one will ever be scared of you. Let’s see how much you like being the weak one, da-ge.”)

It’d only been when the ritual failed – not just once, but many times, no matter how many cuts Mo Xuanyu made on his arms or how well he painted the array – that Jin Guangyao had given up on Mo Xuanyu.

They hadn’t been able to figure out why it wasn’t working, back then, but now Mo Xuanyu thought that maybe he just hadn’t wanted it enough back then. He’d wanted to make Jin Guangyao happy, yes, and he hadn’t really cared what it cost to do it – Jin Guangyao’s arguments that he was useless and pointless, his life worthless, and so he might as well do something useful with his death were pretty convincing – but he hadn’t wanted it.

He wanted it now, though.

Something worth sacrificing your soul – it really could only be revenge, couldn’t it? Xue-gege knew what he was talking about. Revenge was something you needed, something that ate away at your soul until sacrificing it was the only thing left to be done with it, and that, that, was what was going to make the ritual work this time.

Mo Xuanyu was going to get revenge. Revenge on Auntie Mo, on Master Mo, on Mo Ziyuan, on A-Tong…they deserved it. He hated them. He hated what they did to him and how often they did it, he hated that this was his life and that nothing would ever get better, he hated hated hated…!

(“You don’t have to do this,” the young sect leader surnamed Nie had told him when they’d had tea for the last time. He’d bought Mo Xuanyu the cosmetics he liked – he’d offered to buy him something nicer, but Mo Xuanyu had his preferences; the expensive stuff didn’t feel heavy and greasy on his face, didn’t make him feel like he’d painted himself into being somebody else, someone braver. “Just so you know.”

“I know,” Mo Xuanyu’d said. Sect Leader Nie had come to ask him for any information he had about Jin Guangyao. He didn’t say why, but – Nie, Mo Xuanyu’d thought to himself, Nie like Nie Mingjue – he hadn’t been at all expecting to hear the story Mo Xuanyu’d had to tell him. He hadn’t been the one to suggest the ritual, that’d been Mo Xuanyu – he hated, hated, hated – but Mo Xuanyu never did learn the name of any of those extremely villainous ghouls so he’d asked him for a suggestion.

He’d suggested Wei Wuxian, and that’d made Mo Xuanyu giggle to the point of hysterics. Don’t touch the papers, Wei Wuxian didn’t leave much behind – oh, Xue-gege, you’d think this was so funny!)

“Gotta write it down,” he said to himself as he made the cuts and drew the array: it was already starting to glow in a way it hadn’t any of the other times he’d done it, and it wasn’t that he’d gotten any stronger. “Writing it down makes it okay…”

He went to get some paper, and that’s when the cat came in. A big old fisher cat, vicious and mean.

And, well, Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang were always talking about how you’re supposed to try stuff out before you do the real thing – practice makes perfect, that’s what they always said, until the day Jin Guangyao got tired of Xue Yang’s practice and made him disappear, and after that it wasn’t all that long until the day that he got tired of Mo Xuanyu, too, and made the sect kick him out.

(They said he was a cutsleeve, which was true, and they said he’d attacked Jin Guangyao, which was laughable – wasn’t Jin Guangyao the one who was always commenting on how weak Mo Xuanyu was? But that was after he drank the medicine that came with the nightmares and the weird spasms and the rest of it, and it wasn’t as if anyone in Koi Tower had ever listened to anything he said even before that.)

He wasn’t actually going to do anything bad to the cat. He just wanted to use it to make sure he got the markings all done right; it wasn’t as if the array would actually work, not without him in the middle – this array ran on resentment, on revenge, and how much resentment could a cat have?

Apparently Mo Xuanyu’d underestimated cats, or possibly his array-drawing skills, or maybe even it was only that he’d poured so much hatred into the array that when he put the cat down in the middle to see if the positioning was right the whole thing exploded right in Mo Xuanyu’s face.

He woke up to Mo Ziyuan kicking him and yelling about how dare he report him to his parents (he hadn’t reported anything, just asked for his stuff back, he hadn’t even meant to do that because he knew it was pointless but they’d asked what he was thinking about and it had just slipped out) while A-Tong broke all his stuff, but that was pretty normal so he didn’t think too much about it.

The cat leaping for Mo Ziyuan’s face, howling something that sounded an awful lot like the words fuck you except sort of halfway into being a cat’s meow, was new.

Kind of funny, too.

Mo Xuanyu giggled and lay back down on the floor while Mo Ziyuan ran out, crying for his mother, with A-Tong right on his heels as always.

The cat made its way back over to him and jumped up on his chest, looking down at him. It was a pretty handsome cat, now that Mo Xuanyu was looking at it: long and black, with white on its chest and like little socks on its forepaws, a noble appearance that had been concealed by the messy state of its fur.

“I’m sorry I accidentally nearly sacrificed you to a villainous ghoul,” Mo Xuanyu said to it.

“Who told you that I’m a villainous ghoul?” the cat said back. “You couldn’t find another wandering ghost as harmless as me!”

Mo Xuanyu was crazy, yes, but it wasn’t – it wasn’t that type of crazy. He had fits that sent him down to the floor, limbs thrashing crazily; he had days in which he wanted to do nothing but die; screaming nightmares at night and sometimes during the day, hearing and seeing things that weren’t there…

This was still new.

“Did you just talk?” he checked.

“You bet I talked,” the cat said. “Now tell me, how in the world did you manage to offer up the body of a cat? That’s not how that ritual’s supposed to work!”

“It was supposed to be my body, Master Cat,” Mo Xuanyu explained. “But they said that you should always try something out first –”

“First off, you shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself either,” the cat said. “That’s your soul you’re talking about – the ritual just says the soul goes back to the earth, but what if it destroys it entirely? You could’ve been doomed never to reincarnate!”

“That sounds restful,” Mo Xuanyu said wistfully.

“…you have serious issues. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Master Cat.”

“Stop calling me ‘Master Cat’. You know my name, you can use it.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked, long and slow. “But I don’t know your name? You were just the stray that lived out back behind the grocer…”

“I’m Wei Wuxian! You summoned me here and offered me a body!”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t realized it’d worked. “Does that mean you won’t help me get revenge?” he asked, disappointed.

“I don’t exactly have much of a choice, do I?” The cat – Wei Wuxian – huffed. “That stupid ritual…how many cuts do you have?”

“Four,” Mo Xuanyu said automatically, except when he checked they were about half-there, half-gone, and after a little bit of investigating it looked like the other half of them were echoed in appropriately parallel locations on Wei Wuxian’s fuzzy feline body. “Oops.”

“Oops, he says,” Wei Wuxian said, but he already sounded cheerful again. “Seems like you bound our souls together when you brought me back – probably because there were too many souls in the center of the array, once you added in the cat. Anyway, don’t count me out – two legs or four, I can still help you get revenge. Who on, by the way?”

Mo Xuanyu tried to explain. He wasn’t very good at it, tongue tripping over his words as he tried to put into words why he hated them so much that the idea of killing them had possessed him in every one of his three souls and seven spirits, and it all sounded really stupid when he said it so he went off on a tangent and explained how his father had wanted to use him but he was too useless for that, and his half-brother wanted to kill him but he was too useless for that, and his family just wanted him to die, but –

“Too useless for that,” Wei Wuxian said, and his ears were pinned back against his head with his hackles raised and fur all puffed up all over. “Yeah, I got the gist. Okay. I’m sold. Let’s kill ‘em.”

“Really?”

“…I’m actually pretty bad at cold-blooded murder, even if the people you want me to kill do sound like scum. Hmm. Maybe we could just cause them a lot of trouble? A lot of trouble?”

“That seems like a bad idea,” Mo Xuanyu said doubtfully.

It was, if only because Mo Xuanyu was about as terrible at causing a disaster as he was at anything else.

Wei Wuxian ran off into the main greeting hall and started knocking things around, bellowing unconvincing meows as if he’d never met a cat in his life, and Mo Xuanyu wanted to die of embarrassment, stuttering apologies at the visiting Lan sect disciples that looked about as awkward about the whole thing as he was.

(They’d tried to get him to deal with the fierce corpses first, sending him out to the hills and yelling at him to do something, but he’d never been invited to night-hunts back at the Jin sect so he just stood around uselessly until they’d given up and invited some real cultivators.)

Auntie Mo was furious – even more so when Mo Ziyuan showed up and started trying to hit Mo Xuanyu for being a liar, except he wasn’t lying (Wei Wuxian had shouted something about theft and robbery, about cutting off someone’s hand if they stole from him again, and everyone thought it was Mo Xuanyu doing the yelling and then he’d had to explain, hadn’t he?) and eventually the entire thing got to be so stressful that it brought on one of his fits.

He woke up not long afterward, with his head in a Lan sect disciple’s lap – he was transferring spiritual energy, which was nice of him but unnecessary – and Wei Wuxian on his chest, frantically licking his cheek and trying to whisper questions of “Are you okay? Mo Xuanyu? Can you hear me?” into his ear.

“I’m okay,” he said, blinking away the daze. There were broken teacups and wine jars tossed all around – it must have been one of the screaming fits, where he threw himself down on the floor and tossed and turned and screamed and sometimes frothed at the mouth. He broke a lot of things during those fits, almost always his own. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“I told you he was a lunatic,” Auntie Mo said, her voice shrill as always. “Always breaking our things, and then he still complains when A-Yuan borrows a little, as if he wouldn’t just break it himself anyway…! Wretched thing! Useless thing! Honored cultivators, please pardon us this embarrassment, forgive me. We’ll take him away at once –”

Mo Xuanyu flinched, and the Lan sect cultivator who still had his fingers on his pulse frowned. He was very young, and Lan sect; he’d probably never encountered a lunatic before. “No need,” he said. “We need to go and get started with setting up the array in the Western Courtyard. Senior Mo here can show us where it is…can’t you?”

“I can,” Mo Xuanyu said, eager to avoid being locked away again. He scrambled to his feet, not forgetting to scoop up Wei Wuxian the troublemaker. “Follow me.”

They said a few more words, reminders not to go outside once the array was set up, and then they followed him, talking quietly behind him –

“Why’d you call him Senior, Sizhui?” one of the Lan sect disciples was asking the other in an undertone. “He’s a lunatic!”

“He’s a cultivator,” the one that had helped him earlier said. “He has a golden core, and he’s older than we are; that means he’s a senior.”

“He’s got a golden core? No way! He paints his face like he’s a hanged ghost!”

“Jingyi! What does it matter what he does with his face? It’s true, I felt it when I transferred him spiritual energy. Anyway, I didn’t want him to get punished just for having a fit…hey!”

That last exclamation had been because Wei Wuxian had twisted out of Mo Xuanyu’s arms and leaped towards the flags they were carrying, snatching one to the ground and rolling around with it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mo Xuanyu said, wanting to cry. He didn’t have any grudge against these Lan sect disciples; why was Wei Wuxian making trouble for them? “I didn’t mean to mess up your flag formation, or the…”

“Spirit Summon Flag,” Wei Wuxian muttered from his feet and Mo Xuanyu quickly used a foot to slide him back behind him and pretended he’d been the one to speak, smiling earnestly at them. “Weak, with a range of no more than five li, but serviceable enough; they can go ahead and use it.”

“You know about Spirit Summon Flags?” the taller Lan sect disciple – the one who’d been called Jingyi – asked, looking surprised, and Lan Sizhui elbowed him in the ribs.

Mo Xuanyu shrugged helplessly. “They used them sometimes at the Jin sect,” he said, which was true, even though he’d never gotten involved in that sort of thing. Saying that just made them all look even more surprised, though; probably at the idea that a lunatic like him had been part of the Jin sect in any way shape or form. “That was back before I went crazy. And you don’t have to call me senior – I got kicked out before I learned anything useful.”

“You’re still a fellow cultivator,” Lan Sizhui said, and smiled at him. Mo Xuanyu felt his face go red and he looked away, regretting how easily he showed his emotions; it would probably embarrass Lan Sizhui later on, when he heard the rumors about Mo Xuanyu’s sexual preference. That wasn’t the reason he’d blushed, he’d never had any interest in children – it was only that he liked it when people smiled at him.

“I’ll be going,” he said, and grabbed at Wei Wuxian again, only to miss and nearly trip before finally managing to pick him up. “Good luck with your hunt. I hope it goes well.”

It did not go well. Mo Ziyuan got himself killed by stealing a Spirit Summon Flag – Mo Xuanyu and Wei Wuxian both checked their left arm or forepaw at the same time, seeing the cut there heal up before their eyes; apparently the curse considered it to be close enough, maybe because Wei Wuxian had invented the thing – and somehow Mo Xuanyu ended up being accused of his murderer.

And that was before things got really bad.

“Set up a blocking array at the corner,” Wei Wuxian hissed in his ear.

“I can’t!” Mo Xuanyu said, hiding behind a tree. “I don’t know any arrays!”

“What?! Impossible. You did the body offering array – that’s extremely difficult, especially for someone of your cultivation level.”

“It’s the only one I was ever taught,” Mo Xuanyu explained, and Wei Wuxian’s fur suddenly puffed up all over again.

“Someone is going to die, and not necessarily the Mo family,” he said darkly; it might have been more intimidating if Mo Xuanyu hadn’t tied a red ribbon around his throat earlier to try to make the idea of him being someone’s pet a little more believable. “Whoever did that really only wanted you for one thing, didn’t they? I wonder why they wanted me back so badly.”

Mo Xuanyu was about to explain that actually Wei Wuxian hadn’t been the original target, but then there was more yelling – the Lan sect juniors were very competent but the ghost hand was terrifying – and Wei Wuxian got distracted, hissing at Mo Xuanyu to kick Lan Jingyi.

He obeyed on instinct, which saved Lan Sizhui’s life, and then Wei Wuxian was out of his hands again, streaking towards the corpses like a bolt of feline lightning, and suddenly there were three more corpses standing up and fighting against the possessed remains of Auntie Mo.

“Looks like I can still cultivate,” Wei Wuxian said happily, strolling back over and using the tree to leap back up to Mo Xuanyu’s shoulder. “I thought I should be able to use your golden core, given the way the curse bound us together…how are we doing on the curse, anyway?”

Mo Xuanyu checked. “I think that’s everyone, actually? I should thank whoever sent the ghost hand.”

Wei Wuxian was silent for a moment. “Huh, you’re right,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking about it at first, but those Spirit Summon Flags definitely didn’t have enough of a range to summon a ghost hand like that from far away – and we would have heard of a lot more deaths if it’d been that close. Someone must have released it near here.”

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t been thinking along those lines at all. It was only that no matter where he lived, Mo Manor or Koi Tower, there was almost always someone causing bad things to happen.

“Should we do something to help?” he asked hesitantly, watching the battle unfold and then flinching when there was an unexpected sound – two strums on a guqin, full of spiritual power.

“Nope!” Wei Wuxian said. “In fact, we should leave. Right now.”

“Leave…?”

“You can’t be planning on staying at Mo Manor now that everyone’s dead? Come on! Let’s go! Hanguang-jun’s here; he’ll take care of the ghost hand.”

“I wasn’t planning anything,” Mo Xuanyu argued even as he headed towards the exit obediently. “I was going to be dead, and the body would be yours, and you could do whatever you liked with it when you were done.”

“Well, we’re done,” Wei Wuxian said. “And you’re not dead. You’re just going to have to live with that.”

“Live with…not being dead?”

“Just accept the glorious wisdom of your elders already,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “Either way: we go. As quickly as possible. Before anyone notices. Is there anything you need to pack? We should take the donkey in that courtyard.”

“And money,” Mo Xuanyu said practically, heading for Auntie Mo’s room first. After all, she was dead and wouldn’t need it, and he was the last living heir of the Mo family – it was only reasonable that he take the first pick before everyone else got it. “You can always use money, even if you’re dead. Or a cat.”

Travelling was a bizarre experience.

Mo Xuanyu hadn’t been allowed to go outside of Mo Manor in a few years – Wei Wuxian hissed and spat some very impressive curses on the Mo family name, present company excluded – and even at his time in the Jin sect, he’d always been taken places by other people. Now, for the first time, he was alone…well, alone but for Wei Wuxian, who insisted that they had to stay together, curse or no curse, because of how they’d been bound. Mo Xuanyu suspected the real reason was because he didn’t think Mo Xuanyu could make it by himself, and he was probably right.

At any rate, he didn’t have anywhere to go, so instead he followed Wei Wuxian’s instructions to head towards Dafan Mountain to see if they could find some tombs that Wei Wuxian would be able to use. He still had fits, still wanted to die rather a lot, but he ended up spending so much of his time trying to coax the donkey (dubbed Little Apple by Wei Wuxian after they figured out that apples were the best and possibly only incentive to get it moving) that he didn’t have time to think about it too much.

Not being around either Auntie Mo or anyone from the Jin sect helped. Wei Wuxian wasn’t too bad – he may have been a villainous ghoul once, but now he was a cat.

“Didn’t you used to cultivate with a flute?” he asked as they walked along the mountain paths late at night. Well, the donkey walked, Mo Xuanyu rode the donkey, and Wei Wuxian rode in Mo Xuanyu’s arms. “What are you going to do about that? You can’t play a flute anymore; you’re a cat.”

“Cats are innately musical creatures,” Wei Wuxian said. His voice had become a lot more human in the past few days, rich and compelling and increasingly lacking the rough meows that had initially interrupted his speech. It was no surprise that someone as talented as him could pick up being a cat faster than Mo Xuanyu had ever learned to pick up being human.

Mo Xuanyu narrowed his eyes. “That’s a lie, right?” Wei Wuxian had been trying to teach him how to distinguish those, but they weren’t having very much success with it. “I don’t think I’ve heard a single decent sound out of –”

“Why don’t we see who’s making that noise?” Wei Wuxian said loudly, so they dismounted and went to go look.

There were people yelling, caught in a golden net.

“Can you get them down?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who reached out with his claws to grab a leaf, muttering something that was probably uncomplimentary.

And then –

Oh, no.

“Why are you hiding behind a tree again?” Wei Wuxian asked him, not keeping especially quiet. “Don’t tell me you’re hiding from that little Jin sect boy who clearly didn’t have a mother to teach him?”

Mo Xuanyu dropped him like he was a boiling hot skillet.

Like everything he’d ever done on instinct, the move immediately backfired: Wei Wuxian landed on Little Apple’s foreleg claws first and suddenly Little Apple was braying loud enough to wake the dead, which set Wei Wuxian off yowling and hissing right back at him.

“Who is that?!” Jin Ling demanded, striding over with an extremely cross expression that suggested he’d heard the bit about mothers. “Who is – oh. It’s you.”

Mo Xuanyu weakly lifted up a hand. “Uh…it’s nice to see you, Jin Ling.”

Wei Wuxian’s yowls cut off as if he’d been suddenly smothered.

Jin Ling glared at him. “Stupid cutsleeve, you think I didn’t hear what you said earlier?”

“I didn’t!” Mo Xuanyu said immediately, starting to shake at once. He couldn’t bear it when people in bright yellow were angry at him, not since those last few days at the Jin sect; it was a sure-fire way to bring on a fit. “I swear I didn’t! I – I –”

Jin Ling lifted his sword and Mo Xuanyu squatted down to cover his head at once, feeling his eyes overflow with blubbering tears as he began to panic. “I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t,” he wailed. “Don’t hit me! I don’t want to drink any medicine! I don’t want to get hit! I didn’t do it!”

“You…!” Jin Ling didn’t seem to know what to do now. “You’re such a coward! You – damnit!”

Mo Xuanyu had his face hidden away, so he didn’t see what Jin Ling did next, braced as he was for a blow. He could vaguely hear the sword being put away, but that didn’t diminish his fear in the slightest: the majority of the Jin sect had never been willing to use swords on each other, thinking it disgraceful. Even Jin Guangyao didn’t use his sword very much – he preferred other methods.

Mo Xuanyu was most afraid of those other methods.

He flinched violently when someone lightly touched his shoulder.

“Stop crying, you’re making a fool of yourself!” Jin Ling said, his harsh voice at odds with the gentle touch of his fingers. “Have some thought to your face, okay?! You can’t embarrass yourself like this! Aren’t you my uncle, after all?”

“He’s your what?!” Wei Wuxian’s muffled voice came from under a bush.

“It’s true no matter how you look at it, even if I don’t want it to be,” Jin Ling said with a sniff, clearly assuming the exclamation had come from Mo Xuanyu. “Listen here, what are you doing on Dafan Mountain anyway?”

Mo Xuanyu snuffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Well, my cat –”

“Night hunting!” Wei Wuxian hissed.

“I mean, I was night hunting,” Mo Xuanyu repeated obediently, then frowned. “That’s not really believable, is it?”

Jin Ling looked pityingly at him. “Not really. Do you need – is there something…?”

“Those words from earlier were really rude,” Wei Wuxian said from the bushes, and Mo Xuanyu covered his face with his hands. “They shouldn’t have been said.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. It’s not like I haven’t heard it all before –”

“Jin Ling, get away from him,” a low, cold voice said from behind him.

Mo Xuanyu’s shoulders slumped. It wasn’t relief so much as it was resignation: if there was one thing he knew, that everyone knew, it was that you didn’t cross Jiang Cheng. They said he could smell the stink of demonic cultivation on you, and once he did, that was that, and Mo Xuanyu was pretty sure, though no one had ever said for sure, that the body offering array was some form of demonic cultivation.

They said Jiang Cheng would take demonic cultivators back to the Lotus Pier to be tortured to death.

Mo Xuanyu was almost looking forward to it. Other than the horrible sword flights back and forth to Koi Tower in Lanling, Dafan Mountain was the furthest from home he’d been, and Wei Wuxian had been waxing poetic about the beauties of the Lotus Pier for days now; it would be nice to see it, however briefly, before he died.

He’d probably get to see lots of Jiang Cheng, too – he’d only ever caught glimpses of him before, when he was visiting Koi Tower, so he’d never had a chance to look his fill. And whatever could be said about the man’s temper, it couldn’t be denied that he had a first-rate face.

“Why?” Jin Ling asked, not moving. “It’s only Mo Xuanyu. Did you ever meet him? He’s –”

“Not him,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked – bemused? That wasn’t the expression Mo Xuanyu would have been expecting. “It was – Wei Wuxian…wait, the cat?!”

Mo Xuanyu’s mouth dropped open in shock. How did he know?

“Definitely not!” Wei Wuxian blurted out, which didn’t seem smart, and suddenly Jiang Cheng looked extremely confused and abruptly sat down.

“Uncle, what are you talking about?” Jin Ling said. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, a hand to his temple as if he had a headache, or possibly questioning his sanity. “It’s – it’s the cat. I heard – that voice – Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be sniveling on the ground like a newborn infant, and the only other thing around is – so it must be –”

“Is lunacy contagious or something?” Jin Ling demanded. “Uncle, I know you’ve been looking for him for years, but you can’t seriously think Wei Wuxian resurrected himself as a cat!”

“Meow!” Wei Wuxian said desperately, except it was as awful a meow as it’d ever been – entirely human. “Meow, meow –”

“That voice –!”

“Uncle!”

“Shut up!” Mo Xuanyu abruptly yelled, pushed entirely beyond his limits. “All of you! Just shut up! Stop yelling and stop harassing my cat!”

With that, he grabbed Wei Wuxian and ran blindly into the woods.

He kept running until the air wouldn’t enter his lungs anymore, and then he fell down under a tree and burst into tears again, the fear and panic and exercise all escalating uncontrollably until he fell into another fit, no matter how much Wei Wuxian tried to talk him down.

When Mo Xuanyu woke up, he felt as though he really had gotten beaten up by Jin Ling, even though he knew he hadn’t been. He groaned.

“You’re awake again, good,” Wei Wuxian said. He was standing on his two hind legs, forepaws behind his back as he slowly paced a circle. “Those fits of yours – they only started after you went crazy, you said?”

Mo Xuanyu nodded and sat up, rubbing his face – he didn’t have a mirror to check, but all those tears must have messed up his make-up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the case of cosmetics he’d insisted on taking the time to remove from Mo Manor, no matter how much Wei Wuxian had urged him to leave quickly before they were found.

“Based on the things you’ve said, it seems like there was a particular point in time where you went crazy – enough that you can accurately pin-point things as being before and after.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded again, using his fingers to apply more red paint around his eyes, which were still a little swollen and tender from all the crying.

“And you said something when Jin Ling was holding his sword – damnit, that was Suihua, I should have recognized it at once – anyway, you said something about…about not wanting to drink medicine?”

Wei Wuxian certainly fixated on the strangest things, Mo Xuanyu reflected. Maybe lunacy really was contagious.

“Someone poisoned you,” Wei Wuxian concluded. He still had the red ribbon around his neck – in combination with the way he was just barely maintaining his upright balance and the way his tail was lashing around, it was rather cute. “If it took place in the Jin sect, it was probably something with quicksilver, since they use it to make vermillion. It damages the brain and liver if consumed in high quantities, and it’s associated with epilepsy, hallucinations, and terrible nightmares; it’s been used since ancient times to make men into fools.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded politely, mostly disinterested. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know who was behind it, and it didn’t really matter what exactly was involved – if anything, the medicine could almost be seen as Jin Guangyao’s way of being nice. He could have had Mo Xuanyu disappeared the way he did for Xue Yang, or he could have fed him to Xue Yang’s fierce corpses, or even just slit his throat...at least by going mad, Mo Xuanyu would still be useful to Jin Guangyao, a vivid demonstration that any madness in their bloodline must have come from their shared father’s side, not the mother.

He wasn’t sure why Jin Guangyao cared about that, but at least he wasn’t dead. No, wait, didn’t he want to be dead? His half-brother was so confusing sometimes.

Maybe sending Mo Xuanyu back to Mo Manor, back to Auntie Mo and all the others that Jin Guangyao knew Mo Xuanyu feared, maybe it was supposed to teach him how to hate enough, so that he could make the ritual work – if so, Mo Xuanyu’d probably disappointed Jin Guangyao all over again.

“…some ways to at least ease the symptoms, maybe more if we can find a good enough doctor.” Wei Wuxian was still talking, for some reason. “At least you have your golden core; if you were a regular person, there wouldn’t be any hope at all.”

“Hope is overrated,” Mo Xuanyu said. “It just makes it worse when you’re inevitably disappointed, and then you die, if you’re lucky.”

Xue-gege had taught him that one, and he was even pretty sure he’d quoted it correctly, but Wei Wuxian didn’t look particularly impressed.

“I’ve heard that quicksilver poisoning can cause qi deviation, which is associated with suicidal urges,” Wei Wuxian said, dropping to all four legs and then hopping onto his shoulder. “Let me try to stabilize your qi – maybe it’ll keep you from saying things like that all the time. Go on, get up and stretch your legs a bit; they’re probably sore from all the running and thrashing you were doing.”

Mo Xuanyu walked all right, walked right into a confrontation with a stone goddess, which was honestly just how this day was going. Wei Wuxian really needed to stop being so surprised when bad things happened.

“Can you play the flute?” Wei Wuxian hissed into his ear, all thoughts of qi stabilization forgotten. “I need to summon something powerful, and yowling, while surprisingly effective, isn’t going to cut it.”

“I can play the dizi,” Mo Xuanyu offered. “But I’m not good at it, and anyway we don’t have –”

“Good enough! Grab that piece of bamboo and give it to me, I can use my claws to make the holes, and you can follow the tune that I show you –”

Wei Wuxian meowed, Mo Xuanyu played, and Wei Wuxian’s ears went flat backwards in apparent agony.

“Whoever taught you should be tortured to death,” he said briefly before resuming his guidance, focusing in on whatever demonic cultivation technique he was doing – it made the Ghost General appear, so Mo Xuanyu assumed it was successful, although Wei Wuxian’s shocked muttering suggested something had gone wrong regardless. Again, not much of a surprise.

One thing led to another, and then a tall man in Lan sect white showed up along with the juniors from Mo Manor, along with Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling, and at that point Mo Xuanyu decided that some of this bad luck had to be Wei Wuxian’s, because even the worst of his bad days weren’t usually this bad.

Wei Wuxian panicked when they bumped into the tall man – Hanguang-jun, apparently? Mo Xuanyu vaguely recalled hearing about him, but he’d never come to Koi Tower while Mo Xuanyu had been there – and it was very uncomfortable to have a panicking cat on his shoulder, especially when he was still trying to remember enough flute-playing to follow along with the tune Wei Wuxian was meowing, something more relaxing to try to calm down the Ghost General.

“…Wei Ying?” Hanguang-jun said, staring at the cat.

Mo Xuanyu stopped playing and turned his head to stare at Wei Wuxian. “How are you this obvious?” he asked.

“This is not my fault,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, aggravated. “I’m a cat! Nobody should be blaming me!”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” Jiang Cheng, located somewhere further away on the field, said, his voice sounding strangled. “I really do swear I just heard….”

“That was me!” Mo Xuanyu said quickly. “Totally me! I picked up ventriloquism to better process the auditory hallucinations! I’m very sick, and also a lunatic – you can just ignore me!”

Nobody seemed especially convinced.

“…Sect Leader Jiang,” Hanguang-jun said after a while. “There are very good healers dedicated to the calming of the mind at the Cloud Recesses. I can take Young Master Mo – and his cat – with me to see them, which I think will be beneficial to everyone involved.”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said. “But I’m coming too. I think I need it.”

Hanguang-jun frowned for a moment and the two of them stared at each other for a long time, unspoken emotions crackling in the air between them. Finally, he nodded. “Very well.”

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever agreed to go to -” Wei Wuxian started to say, but Mo Xuanyu stuffed his fingers over his little snout. Hanguang-jun was the second master of the Lan sect, which meant Zewu-jun was his brother, and Zewu-jun was Jin Guangyao’s friend – and you didn’t go against what Jin Guangyao wanted, not if you knew what was good for you.

Mo Xuanyu might be stupid, but even he could figure something out after it hurt enough.

“It’s fine,” he said. “We’ll go with you for a little, but you have to promise to let us go afterwards. You have to promise, you hear me? I don’t want to be locked away again!”

Hanguang-jun had a strange expression on his face, which was about the same as the expression on Jiang Cheng’s face, and Jin Ling’s, and all the Lan juniors – had Mo Xuanyu said something wrong?

“Your freedom and safety will be assured,” Hanguang-jun said.

“And my cat’s!”

Jiang Cheng put his hand on his head, looking pained.

“And your cat,” Hanguang-jun agreed peaceably, and turned and started to lead the way.

Mo Xuanyu and all the others followed behind.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian muttered in Mo Xuanyu’s ear once the others were far enough ahead to not immediately overhear. “We can go with Lan Zhan back to Gusu one time. They really do have good healers there, anyway – but I want to talk to him about that ghost hand. Someone released it right next to Mo Manor, probably the same person who wanted me back so badly that he taught you how to do the body offering array, and I want to have words with that person.”

Mo Xuanyu was a little confused: was it Sect Leader Nie he wanted to talk to or Jin Guangyao? And why was Wei Wuxian so angry at them? They were both so nice, at least some of the time…better not to ask.

“You should get some Emperor’s Smile when you get to Gusu,” Wei Wuxian added.

“I don’t drink,” Mo Xuanyu objected.

“For me.”

“Cats don’t drink.”

“I’m not planning on being a cat forever,” Wei Wuxian said. “And won’t that be a surprise to everyone?”

Mo Xuanyu thought about it. “No,” he said after a moment. “I really don’t think it will be, actually.”

[ruckis--rookie]

*hem hem*

I would be interested in hearing about the details that you put in your sonas design! 👀

It's always nice to hear about why people designed their characters to be the way they are now, and I never had the idea to actually ask YOU about the design of Ruckis until your post!

Tell me everything! ✨✨✨

THANK YOUUUU I've been waiting for the chance to talk about this for so long but didn't exactly wanna just post it on my own and seem narcissistic ^^ There's so much thought that went into even the little details that make it that much more special to me

Like for instance the fact that Ruckis is missing a canine is meant to reflect the fact that some of my teeth are chipped, with one of the most chipped up being a canine.

I don't have heterochromia but a lot of people do seem to have a hard time pinpointing the color of my eyes. I think its a blue grey most of the time, but I've gotten varied responses like blue, green, sometimes a bit of yellow in the green, but the most common response seems to be "blue-green". The blue and green in the eyes is a homage to that.

There used to be two earrings on Ruckis but the reason one of them was canned, aside from messing with the scheme a bit, is to reflect the fact that I can't wear earrings for too long. Because only *one* side gets irritated when I do, but the other side is fine.

Now, I've always been the smallest in my family. I was the smallest baby, I'm the smallest as an adult. Shorter than my younger sister by like a foot and then some even though there's a 6 year difference and she's still not done growing. But despite that fact I've always been one of the toughest. That's why Ruckis, while the size of a very small polar bear standing at 7 feet, is still considered a pygmy of her species. She's still tough but at the same time members of her species are supposed to be VASTLY larger. Like... size of a modern day elephant large.

one thing that I ended up adding as of recent was the two whisker dots near the right side of Ruckis' mouth, which is basically somewhat reflecting the beauty mark that I have, or a mole near the bottom of my lip on the right side of my face.

Ruckis as you've probably seen is a built, heavy character. And that would be because as a person I'm not exactly the thinnest either. I'm very much pudgy and my own personal heater. That's also why she's long furred, because it almost always seems like I feel comfier in a somewhat colder environment.

while on the topic of the fur if you've noticed how messy it typically tends to look all splayed out like that it's on purpose, because I have longer hair that tends to get messy and frizzy all the time. Doesn't seem to want to stay down all that much no matter what I do and it somehow only poofs up worse right after a brush.

The tear in the ear, and this also kind of pairs with the missing tooth too, is a nod to the fact that I'm a bit reckless and clumsy and I've built up a high pain tolerance because of it.

The color scheme holds semblance too! Because growing up I noticed we had a lot of pets with black and white fur, so when trying to come up with a color scheme I went with that. more specifically it was kind of inspired by my late dog Spots, which you can guess why based off of her name alone.

Ruckis was also designed to be a bit cuter and pleasing to the eye on purpose because as much as I hate to admit it I've been described as looking cute irl and it's not exactly wrong. Cute, yes. tough as nails? Also yes.

There's also the fact that sometimes I tend to draw her more slouched over, thats cuz I don't exactly have the best posture and I'm definitely more broad shouldered.

There's one detail that's never normally seen on model because you would have to push the fur out of the way to see it, but on the left shoulder there's a black spot on the fur that's usually covered up by the white. That's cuz I have a birth mark on my left shoulder

As for why I changed the og design from digigrade to plantigrade, its because it felt more simple and toony to me which is not only what I wanted to strive for in art and what I found was easier for me but also sort of symbolizes the influence that cartoons had and still have to me. Hits close to home and all.

Oh! And the fact that she also looks gender neutral if not male leaning on purpose.  If not for the fact that it’s fun faking people out then because I too also look a bit more on the masculine side than not.  Not only that but I am butch or a tom boy, so I take a weird sort of pride in being compared to a more masculine figure.

That's all the details I can think of atm! If there's any that I forgot I'll try and edit the post but I do think I got most of the details down. Thank you for letting me share! :D