#fair warning: this video is full of Good Shots so i Will have another set of these roll out at some point. it really tickled my fancy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thr-333 · 3 years ago

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I got this request story idea where quirkless deku doesn't want to be a hero anymore because of bullying that he got from bakugou and wrong saying that he got from all might. So deku decides is a backpacker, travelling around the world experiencing cultures, food, quirks!!! He has even a YouTube account where talk about his travels, meet new people and talk about their quirks.

Here you go @sweetizukufan its set in nz like you wanted :D

Ochako flopped onto her bed and groaned into a pillow. She didn’t have the right to complain, she knew that. She had been one of thousands of applicants to pass the entrance exam and for the past three years her classmates had been training just as hard as she had. And truthfully she didn’t want to complain. It was her final year at UA. It was only a matter of months until she was officially a hero her dream since a child and she was excited for it!

That didn't change the fact Aizawa had upped their training the last few months. The days got longer the work harder and quite frankly it left her with virtually zero free time. Whenever she tried voicing her thoughts she’d be met by her well meaning, but overly enthusiastic classmates encouraging her to keep her head up.

She was! That didn’t mean she had to go through hellish training with a wide smile on her face.

“Ugh,” Ochako rolled over as it got hard to breath with the pillow smothering her. She really did need to get some sleep before waking up at five in the bloody morning tomorrow when she hit the gym. But honestly at this point if she didn’t do something to break up the monotony of training, eating and sleeping she was going to lose it.

She blindly grabbed for her phone. The school had funded getting her a newer model than her old flip phone since that had been a hindrance when she started internships. She was provided with the industry standard which her friends had tested by throwing it out a window, where it hit Bakugou’s head, and was promptly exploded then stomped on. The thing came out of it without a scratch.

She brought up youtube, it’s not like she had any games, let alone time to play them. It was probably a bad sign she had forgotten what channels she liked. With little other option she started scrolling trending with only a small amount of hesitance. She flicked past everything that was clearly clickbait, too childish or both.

Something caught her eye and Ochako back-pedalled to take a look. It looked like some sort of vlogging channel ‘ARRIVING IN NEW ZEALAND! Auckland sky tower!!!’ was written across the screen. Even with all the caps she didn’t really see how that could be clickbait. Maybe the guy was just excited, she would like to get a holiday like that after all. The image had him smiling at the camera sitting down and below him was nothing, nothing but a street far below. Ochako was embarrassed to say her first thought was that he had some sort of floating quirk before realising he was literally sitting on a window. In her defence she had a float quirk.

Partly embarrassed she clicked on the video why not live her traveling dreams vicariously through a stranger? She used to watch her fair share of travel videos, although those were mostly in tropical places so she could research where to take her parents.

The video started with a shot looking over the wing of a plane, a montage of it starting to land. Ochako was vaguely concerned when all she could see was water out the window but just before touch down the tarmac came into view so it wasn't a surprise crash landing. The camera cut off after a few more seconds panning across the airport as the plane pulled in. The music started to fade out as the shot cut to the same guy as before.

“Hey guys Midoriya here again, just got off an eleven hour flight,” He had no right to look so cheerful at that Ochako had never been on a plane but it didn’t look particularly fun, “And let me tell you I was not prepared for the ordeal that is security here,”

Midoriya’s smile faltered a bit, looking sheepish. He was walking with the camera just outside the airport, people milling around in the background paying him no mind.

“I had no idea it would be that tough, I had an apple I got on the plane in my bag and I thought that would be alright, I got it on the plane after all!” Midoriya didn’t look upset or angry but he was blushing madly. Ochako cracked a smile at that now that she looked closer he was probably about her age, “But no, I swear I thought they were going to arrest me! They started interrogating me, I had to stutter out that I got it on the plane, but that didn’t stop them they gave me a lecture about protecting the environment and declaring food, luckily I got off without a fine, I think it’s because I looked terrified, because I was,”

Midoriya chuckled rubbing his neck, there was a bang and he looked wideyed to the side the camera shook slightly then cut to another shot the setting slightly off from where it was showing a bit of greenery growing at the air port.

“Sorry dropped my bag,” Ochako giggled at that a bit, more that he had decided to keep that in the video than anything else, “So I thought that was the end of it, but apparently not, they started asking questions about my shoes, ‘have you visited any farms?’ ‘have you worn them hiking at any point?’ stuff like that, so that was a bit of a problem because these are my only pair of shoes in this country and I’m pretty sure they’re gonna incinerate that apple,”

A little graphic of a cartoon apple on fire popped up along with a pair of shoes. A speech bubble followed saying ‘save yourself!’ as the apple’s little chibi face screwed up.

“I promised them that no, I haven’t by the way I wouldn’t lie about this stuff the environment here is super cool and unique I couldn’t live with myself if my dirty shoes killed a forest,” The graphic was gone by now and Midoriya was walking through the airport, “But I handed over all the snacks I had in my bag, even if they were ok to bring in the country I was too anxious to risk it, that seemed to appease the border security and I got away with my shoes in tact, my snacks sacrifice will not be in vain,”

Ochako was tempted to laugh but if someone set fire to her snacks or sweets there would be hell to pay.

“Anyway now I’m hungry and have some time before my hotels check in,” Midoriya beamed at the camera, “So I’m gonna do something I’ve wanted to since planning this trip,”

On that mysterious note the video cut to another montage as Midoriya got into a taxi. Ochako let herself enjoy the sights that rolled out the window. She wished she had a computer to watch this on instead of squinting for details on her phone's screen. The montage went onto show the outside of a store then going inside to pan over all the baked goods inside. It was a smorgasbord that stoked Ochako’s envy.

“Here we are,” Midoriya sat at a table just outside the store a few bags laid out in front of him, “These sorts of bakeries are everywhere in New Zealand, I didn’t look for anywhere specific just one walking distance to my hotel room, and here we are!”

Midoriya took something from a bag showing it to the camera to make out the golden crust of a pie. Going torturously in detail as he ripped it open for the audience's benefit. Steam rose and mince flowed out, surprising Ochako as she thought it would be sweet. Breaking it open made a mess as Midoriya was forced to drop the piping hot pastry. The filling pooled across the bag it had come in making the whole thing look sloppy.

“I think my friend would kill me if she saw me do that, Gemma don’t watch this video,” Midoriya warned to late, “She’s the one who told me I had to try a pie, I have a few flavours here but lets start with the basic one, mince!”

Midoriya had some difficulty eating it now that it had fallen apart but managed and his eyes lit up.

“It’s really good, the pastry is flaky and buttery it works really well with the savoury mince the two together make a really satisfying bite, but I guess it would be better if I didn’t destroy it first,” Midoriya said sheepishly, “I won’t do that for the rest of them, promise,”

Midroiya took another bite from the pie before showing off the next one.

“This is Gemma’s favourite Butter Chicken, and trust me it smells so good!” Midoriya, the tease took a bite. Ochako had to wonder what she did to deserve this, “Wow I like this one way better, not that the other one was bad!” Midoriya hurriedly said.

He showed the inside to the camera, a rich looking butter chicken inside.

“It’s really flavourful so you don’t need any sauce that and the texture of the chicken and curry are really complimented by the pie crust,” Izuku took another bite as he talked, “I guess it’s kinda like if Butter Chicken was wrapped up in Nan so there's no way it wouldn’t be good,”

Midoriya talked more as he ate that pie and a steak and cheese one he had brought talking about both until Ochako’s mouth was salivating.

“That’s not nearly all the pie options, but I’ll be touring across New Zealand so this can be an ongoing adventure, now desert!” Midoriya brought out a long bun full of cream, it had a dollop of jam on the top and so much icing sugar Ochako feared for his health. Midoriya however ignored those fears and took a bite anyway, “The buns really soft and the area that the cream’s touched it is just the best texture ever,”

He smiled and there was cream and powder on his cheeks Ochako just knew was going to haunt her until he wiped it off.

“This entire thing is just, ‘ok how can we make this as soft as possible,” Midoriya commented getting closer to the middle of the bun where the bit of jam was, “The raspberry, I think? Jam is really good at breaking up the flavour half way through, now I can eat the rest of it,” Midoriya grinned as he finished it off. He started walking around again waiting for his check in to arrive. That didn't seem to bother him as he pointed out things on the street as he walked.

As he did, Ochako saw someone blatantly jump over the street instead of waiting for the lights. There was another person in the background who casually strolled across the side of a building, feet sticking to it somehow. While people would use their quirks on the street all the time they were usually less obvious about it as police would sometimes call them out and it did depend quirk to quirk. Midoriya zoomed in on a few of these people before it focused on him smiling as he walked.

“New Zealands got pretty cool laws around quirk usage,” He explained, clearly having done his research, enthusiastically by the looks of it, “You have to go through some basic training to prove you can control your quirk, at least so you wont hurt anyone after that you get a license and your free to use your quirk, like I island,” That Ochako thought was cool part of her training had pointed out that some situations heroes were called in for weren't always villain attacks but some public quirk usage gone south, “It’s pretty easy to get by the sounds of it but that does all depend on what your quirk may be,”

The shot cut a bit, Ochako assumed he had rambled on about that for a bit and decided to cut that part.

“In terms of heroes from what I’ve researched the police handle most of that, they’re trained in their quirks kinda like hero schools back in Japan but starting at university not highschool,” That made sense Ochako supposed, and they’d probably have more time to master their quirks too, “There’s a few heroes sure, they’re like a branch of the police department and I think there's a departmental separation between rescue and combat heroes,”

Was she privately pleased he had listed rescue heroes first? Yes, yes she was.

“But honestly there aren’t many, they seem more like the people you call in for really big stuff going on, or international relations, it makes sense the population of New Zealand isn’t all that big,” Midoriya rounded the corner someone made a peace sign at the camera before moving on, “Almost half the population is here in Auckland and the whole country hasn’t reached the five million mark yet, thats crazy to me considering Japan’s population is in the hundred million range and it’s only slightly bigger than New Zealand,”

That did seem insane to Ochako, not sure to be smug about that fact or not.

“So that's probably why heroes are less of a thing here but that doesn't mean it’s all not still really cool,” Midoriya was beaming at the camera, his positivity and enthusiasm practically punching her through the screen, “I’ve rambled enough, it’s about check in time I’ll show you guys where I’ll be staying,”

Midoriya gave a quick tour of his hotel room. It wasn't much, more of a backpackers than anything.

“It’s not big I know but I’ll only be staying here for a few days to explore Auckland then I’m off traveling so a large place wasn't really a worry,” Midoriya flopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly as he hit the mattress, “I’m gonna take a nap because I am exhausted,” His tone betrayed nothing, “But stick around because I’ve got a surprise this afternoon- well I probably put it in the title anyway so it’s not a surprise but it’s still going to be cool, See ya,” Midoriya saluted the camera and it faded to black for a few seconds.

When it came back to light it was an image looking up at a tall tower circling around it and entering the building next to it. There was a continuous shot that was sped up as he walked through the line entering an elevator which literally had a glass floor.

“Wo-” The camera was pointed down at Midoriya's shoes as he hesitated to stand on the glass patch. His foot made contact before he quickly stepped back, “Nope, no, nope,”

Ochako laughed and sank back into her bed. The elevators opened and there was a shot of large windows showing the expanse of the city. The footage sped up as Midoriya did a clean circle around the tower showing it was a loop to give a 360 degree view of Auckland. It was pretty with rolling hills and she could see forests at the edge of it. Honestly it was small compared to the cities she was used to but that made sense given what Midoriya had said earlier.

“Look at this,” The footage went back to normal speed as Midoriya focused on a chart comparing the heights of different towers, “It’s half as tall as the sky tree,”

And that was given the giant antenna on the top.

“Come check this out it’s pretty cool,” Midoriya walked down the steps until he was right next to the window, a few steps more and he came to a patch in the floor that was just glass like the elevator. Midoriya noticeably stood back from it, “It says here that the glass is just as thick and strong on the floor, so reasonably logically,” Ochako snorted, “It should be just the same as walking on the floor… they say that but…”

Midoriya switched the camera around to focus on him, looking a bit pale.

“This might shock you but I’m not really a fan of heights,” He shuddered and shook himself out, “Alright I can do this,”

What followed was a frankly painful process that Ochako couldn't help but laugh at. Midoriya would approach the glass before backing off. He set the camera up on the railing so it looked down enough that she could see the glass and street below. Midoriya tried a bunch of stuff like walking up without looking down. That didn't work and he backed out several meters before he had even reached the glass thinking he was standing on it. He tried to sit down and scoot onto it but couldn't manage more than sitting far from the edge and putting his feet on it. Ochako started howling with laughter when a kid came by running up and jumping on the glass while Midoriya looked on with fear like they were mad.

Midoriya at least had a humor about it. 2D sketches drawn over the video to help exaggerate his struggle and the entire thing filmed rather comically.

Ochako was beginning to believe he had photoshopped the image earlier before he grabbed the camera taking a deep shuddering breath.

“I can do this, I promise I can do this,” He sat down and shuffled back cringing all the way. Ochako found herself strangely proud as Midoriya actually made it onto the glass. He was white knuckled reaching up to hold the railing. He smiled shakily at the camera before turning into a more genuine look of triumph. That was until he quickly rolled off it jumping to his feet and scurrying away, “There! Done! I did it!”

He was smiling brightly now and Ochako couldn't deny she was proud of him. She had struggled herself with heights something she was forced to get over to use her quirk so she knew just how hard that can be.

“Gosh I hope that's easier than what I’m about to do,” Midoriya spun around to show a different window wires running outside and inside a countdown that was about to hit one. It did and there was a blur outside Ochako belatedly realised it was a person. Oh no.

“Now I’m not going to do that but I am going to do something pretty cool,” Ochako blew a sigh of relief but also wanted to hit him for scaring her like that. Under no circumstances should he be jumping off buildings.

They lapsed into another montage Midoriya going back downstairs. This time he had the courage to put a foot on the window in the elevator. Downstairs he went into another area donning a coat and sort of jumpsuit before layering harnesses over the top. He went up an elevator with a few other people this time. They stepped out into another room Midoriya carefully keeping the window out of frame to keep the grand reveal. Their harnesses got latched on and secured to a railing. Once everything was safe the doors pushed open revealing Auckland city, this time not hidden behind glass.

Midoriya skipped over the likely long process of gaining the courage to go outside cutting instead to him smiling with the city at his back and wind whipping through his hair.

“Welcome to the top!” Midoriya yelled over the wind, the audio quality was bad but that was understandable. She felt worse for Midoriya who was smiling through the fear, “It’s really cold and windy up here and I’m scared!”

“Just go back down you idiot,” Ochako huffed fondly as he kept shouting to be heard over the wind.

“I’m kinda afraid of dropping my camera honestly,” Midoriya laughed but she couldn't hear it, instead he pointed in to a few specific spots across the city, “See those hills? Most of those are actually remnants of volcanoes, you see Aucklands kinda built on top of a giant pit of Magma,”

Midoriya quickly grabbed back onto the railing, slowly shuffling along the sky walk, higher than he had been inside.

“Luckily the volcanoes in this area are dormant, cause if one in this area erupts there's a pretty good chance like 50 more are gonna follow,”

Midoriya stayed up there for a little longer pointing out interesting things in the distance. Ochako could safely say she was glad when he cut back to the bottom of the sky tower. His hair was windswept and cheeks red from windchill. Ochako didn't even need to check the comments to know most of them were gushing about how cute he was.

“That was… terrifying, but I’m glad I did it, who thinks I should try skydiving next?” Midoriya grinned, before his face dropped and paled again, “God please no that was a joke,”

Ochako giggled relaxing back in bed again after the tension of the skywalk Midoriya had been leaking through the screen dissipated.

“Anyway I’m just gonna go lie down for a while until some friends of mine get here, then we’ve got one more surprise,” Ochako hoped he hadn’t changed his mind and was going to jump off the building after all, she didn’t want to see him have a literal heart attack.

The video cut to Midoriya smiling at the camera again. He had a lot more color to him now and his hair was somewhat tamed. In his defence he had apparently got off and 11 hour flight then walked around 300 meters in the air it was allowed to be messy.

“So the person meeting me is Gemma, I mentioned her earlier, and a few other friends but their camera shy so you probably wont see them,” Midoriya was bouncing in place gaze constantly drifting away from the camera, “This is our first time meeting in person so I’m kinda excited kinda dreading if this has all just been some elaborate joke and I’m about to get stood up or worse,”

“Who hurt you and who do I need to kill?” Uraraka whispered, fully prepared to throw down the gauntlet for a youtuber she had only just discovered.

Luckily for them Gemma and his other not seen friends were spared her wrath. The camera shot was from far away so she couldn't hear or see anything in detail but it clearly showed the two running up to hug each other Midoriya pulling back to excitedly chat. Gemma matched his enthusiasm, sparkles trailing her arms as she made wide sweeping gestures.

“Here everyone say hi to Gemma,” The shot changed to frame the two of them, Gemma waving the motion sending more glittering sparkles falling from her hand and landing on Midoriya’s shoulder.

“Oh no-” Gemma stepped back to look at Midoriya the front of his shirt was covered in lingering sparkles along with his face and hair. Midoriya looked down at himself a little shocked as Gemma covered her face groaning into her hands, “I’m so sorry, I swear they fade out,”

She scrubbed her hands down her face, unaffected as her whole body shone lightly with subtle sparkles.

“I love it,” Midoriya grinned, twirling a bit to show there was a band of sparkles across his back from where her arms must have come around him. He was quite a bit shorter than her so his face also looked like someone had blown glitter in it, it just made his smile all the more dazzling.

“So you know where we’re going for dinner?” Gemma was looking at the camera but clearly asking Izuku.

“Up the tower again!” Midoriya beamed and really him plus sparkles was too unfair a combination.

This time in the elevator Gemma stood proudly on the window as Midoriya yelled at her.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Crazy you say?” At that Gemma jumped up and Midoriya let out an unholy screech as the elevator shuddered, she laughed but it was teasing not cruel. Ochako could make out the vague reflection of someone patting Midoriya on the shoulder and another person's arm came into frame to swat at Gemma.

When they reached the top Midoriya did not focus too much on the view, already having shown it. They stepped into a nicely decorated restaurant, but what was interesting was when Midoriya demonstrated that it was slowly spinning so the patrons could enjoy the view without leaving their table.

“Do you think they could speed it up?” Gemma asked, she was sitting next to Midoriya, both had their backs to the window so Ochako had a clear shot of it.

“Like a dangerous merry go round?” Midoriya questioned, the sparkles still clung to his cheeks and eyelashes.

“Exactly!” Gemma gave him finger guns, that matched her real guns. She may be sparkly but without the coat Ochako could now see she was ripped, “Also the dangerous is redundant,”

“What kind of merry go rounds-” Midoriya cut himself off as a waiter walked by, “... anyway I don’t think thats a good idea, given that the points to you know, eat,”

“Thats just what makes it more fun,” Gemma waved off.

“Uh-huh,” Midoriya raised an eyebrow skeptically before turning to the camera, “Hope you guys don’t mind but I wont be doing much food reviewing this dinner, I’ll show it off but-”

“This is a night for us to celebrate, later losers,” Gemma saluted, Midoriya squeaked telling her off before cutting the video off. Ochako laughed glad for Midoriya that his nerves had been wrong.

As promised he showed a few shots of some fancy looking food. Ochako wondered how much she would have to save up for her and her parents to eat there, not as much as the flights of course… hopefully.

The camera placed on the table showed the scenery slowly revolving outside, getting darker and lights turning on as the sun set. By the time they were getting up to leave it was fully dark outside and Midoriya spared a moment to linger on a shot of Auckland at night.

“Izuku don’t forget your bag,” Gemma called as she shrugged on her jacket, also glittery.

“Thank-” The camera whirled around to where the bag should be. There was a slight ridge dividing the circle of the restaurant that spun and a ledges lining the outside where all the supporting beams were, “Oh sh-”

The camera started shaking as Midoriya ran through the restaurant. The shot switching to another camera that caught Midoriya as he ran the other way almost bowling over a waiter and profusely apologising. All the while you could hear Gemma and several others laughing off screen.

“Oh? Look what we have here,” Gemma moved the camera to focus on a spot as the restaurant turned around, a bag coming into view that Gemma scooped up. It was probably Midoriya's seeing as it had a couple of All Might pins and Ochako wasn’t sure how popular he was internationally.

Gemma set up the camera to focus on the opposite direction Midoriya ran. It caught the moment he came around the other side, still staring worriedly at the window. Gemma whistled sharply gaining a few glares but a relieved look from Midoriya as she held up his bag.

They left the restaurant with a few apologies at the other patrons for being loud. When the camera switched it was back on Midoriya but Ochako caught a glimpse of Gemma shimmering in the background waiting around.

“Alright that's all for today,” Midoriya smiled, Ochako stomped down the slight disappointment resolving check out his other videos from his easiness and confidence on screen Midoriya must have been at this awhile, “I’m going to be touring all over the country so stay tuned for the series, I haven't showed you nearly how beautiful New Zealand is, I hope I can make it down to the south island too cause they have some really pretty scenery, for now I’m going back to the hotel and crashing hard, see ya!”

The video signed off to the end cards a recommended video and link to Gemma’s apparent channel that looked like some sort of fitness channel with how she was lifting weights in it. Ochako promised herself to check it out.

For now she subscribed to Midoriya’s channel checking the time to see if she could squeeze in another before going to bed. She was feeling like she could get away with it. The change in pace revitalising in a way. But really she attributed that to Midoriya’s natural cheer and charisma. Somewhere in there she had allowed herself to relax and get swept up in this dorky kids mundane adventure. It was exactly the kind of thing she wanted her parents to experience one day.

This was exactly what she had become a hero for, and now graduation was within her grasp. She just had to push a little more and then she would be out in the world able to do some good for her family and everyone else.

Ochako smiled at the screen, resolving to get some sleep and maybe she could squeeze in another video tomorrow morning. Before she turned off her phone Ochako glanced at the channel's name, snorting to herself. It was perfect.

Green Bean and Bags

#my hero academia #my hero academia au #mha #bnha #asks #ask request #asks welcome

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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Tik Tok Tyranny (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Part of the Making Moves universe

Summary: Missy has become obsessed with Tik Tok. Luckily for her and not-so-luckily for you, her mini-mom adds many likes to her posts. Marcus gets roped in too.

W/C: 2.6k

Warnings: Language, Missy gets The Full Name when Marcus gets mad. otherwise it’s rlly tame.

A/N: PSHSHRHTS guys this idea has been rattling around my head and I thought it was super cute so I had to do it!! Lots of love to @leonieb for inspiring the first fic in this universe (who knows, maybe there are more to come?), @theteddylupinexperience for helping me out with all of my plot and helping me come up with this idea in the first place, and my babe @softly-sad for simping over Marcus with me and giving me some ideas!!

Missy’s Tik Tok page has been blowing up lately, and most of it is due to you.

It all started when she downloaded the app, showing you and her father the funniest ones she’d found. Many of them consisted of cute animals and bad jokes, since she inherited her father’s sense of humor. Your phone constantly dinged with new messages from Missy, sending you funny videos and recipes.

This morning, you wake to big brown eyes in a tiny head above your bed. “Good morning,” Missy sings. “We’re making a Tik Tok. Up and at ‘em!” She shouts, pulling back your covers.

You groan and roll over, finding Marcus’s side of the bed empty. “Where’s your dad?” You ask with a gravelly voice, eyes fluttering open.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter, he’s not gonna be in it. Actually, we do need a cameraman- Dad!” Missy hollers into the hall.

You groan and rub your eyes, reaching for your glasses. “It’s like 7, kid. How do you have so much energy? You don’t even drink coffee,” You ask her, a yawn overtaking your face.

“Because I’ve been planning this since last night,” she says with a grin, ripping the covers back once more. “Come on, please.”

Another yawn. “Fine. What are we doing, hm?” You ask her, eyes opening as you stretch out in bed.

“I’m dressing you for the day,” she sings. “You know those videos?”

“No,” you groan. “There are a lot of videos, kid.”

“You’re annoying,” she pouts and plops next to you. “Your Gen Z bestie dresses you for the day!”

Marcus walks in with two mugs of coffee, and he hands one to you. You smile and thank him and he looks at his daughter with a furrowed brow. “You’re not making her regret moving in, are you?” He teases her.

“No,” she rolls her eyes as you sip your coffee. “We’re making a tik tok. I’m gonna dress her for the day and you’re going to be our cameraman,” she tells him with a grin, handing him her phone. “Alright, let’s go,” she says and stands, hauling you up and almost making you spill your coffee.

“Damn, Missy,” you laugh and stand with her. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

She shrugs. “Uh, wave at the camera. This will be the before shot.” Your hair is messy and tied up, your glasses perched on your nose. You’re wearing a large t-shirt belonging to Marcus and a pair of shorts. You sip your coffee and wave as Marcus records it. “Good, all is going to plan,” Missy grins and leads you along.

That video got a fair amount of likes; it didn’t go completely viral, but you were popular. It made Missy excited beyond belief and she insisted that you make another. “How good are you at dancing?” She asks casually over lunch.

“Oh God, Missy,” you chuckle and shake your head. “Not great, but I can move somewhat easily. What did you have in mind?”

She beams at you. “The scene from Mamma Mia where young Donna is on a boat Bill and they dance around on it!”

You both adore the Mamma Mia movies. They’re what brought you together; Missy needed a female presence in her life besides her grandmother, and one night, after being ditched by her friends, Marcus suggested she text you. You brought her to your house and the two of you watched Mamma Mia while eating pints of Ben and Jerry’s, singing along at the top of your lungs and making jokes at the movie’s expense.

It turns out that the dance isn’t overly complicated. You’ve both watched the movies so many times that it’s almost like second nature to the two of you. You’re practicing the dance to the blasting speakers in the backyard when Marcus finds the two of you. “Hey ladies,” he calls out, but you can’t hear him. The two of you are spinning each other around and laughing as you practice, Missy bonking into you and making you both stop, beaming laughing.

Marcus pulls out his phone and records it for a moment, grinning as he watches it. His two girls having the time of their lives, dancing to the Mamma Mia soundtrack in their shared home. It’s wonderful.

The dance segment ends and you both stop, catching your breath. You grin as you see Marcus and rush over to him, throwing your arms around him. You kiss his cheek before burying your face in his neck. “Hi, snuggles.” It’s your favorite name for Marcus: he’s tall and strong but so cuddly and unbearably soft. You want your arms around him at all times. “I missed you all day, stupid work,” you chuckle.

He wraps his arms around you too. “Missed you too, baby. You and Missy are two great dancers,” he chuckles.

“Please. I look like I’m dying,” you snort, lifting your head and kissing him softly on the lips.

That’s your second Tik Tok video to earn a favorable amount of likes: the video of the dance that Marcus took while you practiced.

The two of you make a new joint account: @missyandminimom. Mini-Mom was her new favorite term for you: you weren’t quite her stepmom yet, not married to Marcus and not a legal guardian to her. But you were like her mom. Thus, Mini-Mom was born.

The video was posted again there and got likes in the thousands, sending you into relative fame. Missy screamed every time she checked the app, her new followers exciting her far more than it excited you.

The next step, Missy decided, was that Marcus needs to be a participant. But not a willing one, or at least not a participant that appears as willing.

“Please Dad, you just need to walk through the background!” Missy begs of Marcus with wide eyes.

Marcus shakes his head but smiles. “You’re not making me dance.”

“Nope! It’ll be just the two of us dancing, and you do whatever you need to in the background. It’ll be funny!”

“Isn’t the point of those things that the people don’t know they’re being recorded?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just act like you’re not! People will think it’s hilarious, us dancing and you just walking in the background. Everyone will recognize you and we’ll get famous!”

“Fame isn’t the goal,” you clarify to Marcus and to Missy. “We just think it would be funny,” you offer up.

Marcus can’t say no to you. “Well, I suppose,” he groans, and Missy cheers and throws her arms around him.

“You’re the best! I love you so much!” She squeals, letting go and running over to where you stand. “Okay, we’re gonna count down then do the dance, you just walk through the background, stop and look, whatever.”

Marcus nods and you give Missy a high five. “Nice going,” you tease and nudge her side. “Alright, you ready?” You and Missy have been preparing the dance for the past couple of days, and you’re wearing matching outfits now.

“Yeah, here we go,” she squeals and presses the record button. She backs up next to you as the timer beeps.

You start the dance, and Marcus walks dutifully through the background a few seconds in. He stands there for a second, staring at your ass, before wandering out before you complete the dance.

“Woo!” You and Missy both shout as you walk to the camera and check out the video. The dance goes perfect, and you widen your eyes as you look back at Marcus over your shoulder. “Jesus, Marcus,” you tease.

“I got distracted,” he murmurs, blushing, and you run over to him and wrap your arms around him, jumping up and wrapping your legs around him too. He holds you up and kisses the side of your face. “You’re so good with her.”

“She makes it easy,” you laugh and bury your face in his neck.

Missy whips around with her phone and records the two of you, where you stand koala-wrapped on Marcus. “You’re so gross,” she groans and heads off to edit the video.

The video does, indeed, go viral, as people recognize that that’s Marcus Moreno in the background, so that must be his daughter and does he have a girlfriend now? You even found you and Missy on the cover of a digital tabloid, in a shot of you hugging. At least they were kind about you.

The next video is a prank on Marcus. You and Missy spent the day planning it, giggling nefariously as you set everything up. You replaced Marcus’s katanas at home with a pair made of plastic, meaning he can’t summon them with his powers. When he returns home, the trap is laid, and you and Missy follow a loose script.

As you cook dinner side-by-side with your boyfriend, you smile up at him. “You know, you’ve never given me a demonstration of your powers, baby,” you murmur to him and kiss his cheek, continuing to stir the ingredients you’re working on.

“Because at home, I’m just your man,” he says and kisses you softly, cupping your face with one hand. You smile into his lips, and you have to admit that you appreciate it. You didn’t realize he was a Heroic until a few weeks of being his neighbor, when it finally clicked that he wasn’t just Marcus, he and Missy weren’t just the Morenos, he was Marcus. Moreno. He always leaves his work at work and you appreciate it.

“Why are you so fucking cute?” you coo and kiss him again. “Still. Just… do the thing, please, whoosh those katanas over here?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his middle and looking up at him with big eyes.

He sighs and nods. “I suppose.” You can see Missy shooting from around the corner and you sneak her a thumbs up. He stares in concentration, holding out his hand to summon them. Damn, he must be out of practice, he thinks, focusing harder. His lip twitches in frustration as it doesn’t work. “Fuck!” He ends up shouting after a few moments where nothing works, and Missy claps a hand over her mouth.

“Dad!” She exclaims with a laugh. Marcus very rarely curses, if ever, and his eyes widen as he realizes she was filming it.

“Melissa Angélica Moreno, don’t you dare-” he threatens as he realizes what she wants to do with it. It’s going on Tik Tok, whether he likes it or not. He lunges after her and Missy squeals, launching off a chase through the house as Marcus pursues her.

That video got the most likes of all of them. Glimpses into celebrity lives always do, and you knew from the start that Marcus’s videos would garner lots of attention. Lots of people thirsted over him in the comments. Many duets were made of people saying they wished they were you. You only supposed it was fair; who wouldn’t want to be with Marcus?

“Baby?” You mumble late one night in bed.

“What is it?” A sleepy Marcus murmurs next to your ear.

You sigh, rolling over in his arms to face him. “I know you’re famous, and Missy’s Tik Tok isn’t helping either, but you love me, right?”

His eyes open and he frowns. “Where the hell did that come from?” He asks, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms tight around you. “Of course I do.”

There’s still a small frown on your face. “You’re a superhero. You have a ton of people who would line up to date you. Lots of options.”

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. “Baby. I fell in love with you when you were wearing a fuzzy bathrobe and drinking coffee on your porch. How could you ever question how much I love you?” He asks, voice tinged with sadness.

You feel warm inside at his words, scooting closer. “I know. I just… get insecure about it sometimes.”

“You never have to be,” he assures you and kisses your forehead. “I have never and will never love anyone more than you, except Missy. That’s a tie.”

You giggle softly. “I love you so much, baby,” you murmur into his skin.

“I love you too, cutie. Now please go the hell back to sleep.”

“More like a grizzly bear,” you grumble but smile. You fall asleep just like that, your arms around him tight and face nuzzled in his neck.

Two days later, Missy comes flying into your bedroom on a Sunday morning, nearly making Marcus spill his coffee. “You guys!” She squeals. “I just posted a Tik Tok that got the most likes ever, and it’s only been up for like ten hours!”

You groan and scoot away from Marcus so Missy can cuddle in between the two of you. “What did you make now, huh?” You ask as she nestles in.

Missy projects her phone to the screen. She takes your left hand and Marcus’s right, joining them and grinning. “Let me first just say… you’re welcome,” she giggles.

The video starts. my simp-erhero dad and his love🧸✨ flashes across the screen over an image of you on Marcus’s shoulders in their backyard pool.

The video rolls, and it’s about 40 seconds long. A popular love song plays in the back over clips of you and Marcus. You kissing Marcus’s cheek after he found you and Missy dancing to Mamma Mia in the backyard. You, cuddled on top of Marcus on the couch, the both of you napping. You koala-clinging to Marcus after he stared at your ass in that dancing video. Marcus kissing you softly as you cooked dinner and asked him to demonstrate his powers. The last video is of you, Marcus, and Missy at a theme park. Both you and Marcus kiss one of her cheeks in sync, making her giggle. The music fades and the video starts again.

Marcus turns to the two of you, eyes watering. He looks into your eyes first. “Did you help her make that?” He asks.

Your eyes are watering too, grinning. “No.”

He grins down at his daughter, the tears slipping from his eyes. “Missy. That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. What inspired you to make it?”

She has a real answer: it’s that she wanted the two of you to see your relationship the way she did. She wanted to reassure you. She’d heard you that night when you told Marcus you felt insecure.

But Missy is a snarky little preteen, 4’4” of prepubescent rage and glitter. “The likes I knew I’d get,” she shrugs and skips out of the bedroom happily.

Before you can say something loving to Marcus, he takes your face in his and kisses you slowly. You both chuckle into each other’s lips, you breaking away and looking at him with big and happy eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Marcus grins, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Hey, I have a question for you. Well, it’s more of a statement.”

“Go for it,” you nod.

“We should get married,” Marcus says plainly with a smile. “I’ve already asked Missy about it, she thinks we should too. Of course, if you don’t want to, I get that. I know we haven’t been dating as long as other relationships do before marriage, and-”

“Yes,” you grin. “Let’s do it.”

He grins and kisses you, holding both sides of your face in his hands. “You know, the two of us seem to really like rash decisions.”

“They always work out in the end, don’t they?” You ask with a grin.

Marcus kisses you in response. They do, they really do. He breaks away a moment later, grinning and watery-eyed. “I still don’t know what a simp is,” he sniffles.

Taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #we can be heroes #pascalpanic

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

upholding traditions | dave hodgman

word count; 19,396

summary; a year later, dave finding himself in need of his christmas party saviour again, and is missing his girlfriend, thinking she won’t make it home for the holidays.

notes; honestly, this switches between his POV and hers a lot just to get the full story across, so just roll with it. click here to check out their new years outfits, I had very particular images in mind.

warnings; underage drinking, smut, semi-public sex

“Oh, Dave, isn’t that just the loveliest little garden?” He could only nod, biting down on the inside of his cheek, hard, to contain the yawn that he wanted to release. On one side was his mother, and on the other side was his ex, her shoulder pressed up to his as the perfume he once thought smelt alluring and sexy now just gave him a headache and made his nose wrinkle was overwhelming, her phone held out in front of the two of them, as she swept through photos of her new home. “You know, Dave, if you had a nice little house like that, you could host some lovely little event. Are you planning to host any, Aubrey?”

He gave her his best smile, knowing how fake it all must seem, and when she finally pulled her arm back and placed her phone away, her body leaving his side, he felt like he could breathe again, no longer sandwiched between the two women. The problem was simple; his mother had joined his neighbourhood book club, as had Aubrey’s mother, and over the year, as the group cycled between various members houses for meetings, his mother had become much more social and friendly. Aubrey had transferred home for college, after Ronnie and his piss-poor band had landed a series of songs to be made for cat-food commercials that he considered his ‘big break’.

Slapping an engagement ring on the pushy blonde’s finger and deciding the two of them would move in, Dave had come home from college, exhausted and ready to crash, to find his mother had befriended his ex, and everything since that day only one week ago had been a steady de-escalation in his run down to Christmas.

After the raging success that last year’s set of Christmas parties had been, and the formation of the neighbourhood book club - who seemed to have now self-elected themselves as the community event organisers - he once again found himself standing in an itchy festive jumper on Christmas Eve, a glass of punch in his hand as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that if his mother and his ex-girlfriend got any friendlier, she might actually start being invited to family gatherings and thanksgivings.

With her ‘big news’, in the form of an engagement and a small house in her hometown as she decided she was never going to break free, apparently, Dave found himself with a whole new set of problems. He was being badgered by everyone he knew about when he was going to settle down, when he was going to find himself a nice girl, when was it going to be his turn to get a house or start making roots, and what his direction was?

The worst of it all? You weren’t here to save him this time.

Three weeks before Christmas, and you’d broken the news to him over your weekly video chat date. You weren’t making it home for Christmas this year, your junior college year workload had all become too much and you were staying behind over your break to finish it all up. You’d been vague, not many details and so he didn’t have much to talk about when the older ladies of the neighbourhood asked him where you were, meaning they were all fixing him with disapproving stares and offering to set him up with their granddaughters or nieces.

Glancing around the room, he longed to catch sight of you, your sweet smile, enough to light up a room, but he already knew he wouldn't find you. The last time he had seen you in person had been the summer, when he’d flown all the way to your university campus as a surprise, spending the entire last week of summer with you, and flying back for his first day there, falling asleep in his first lecture of second year, and yet he hadn't regretted a moment of it. Going to college at the opposite end of the country to your girlfriend was hard, more so when your schedules never aligned and workloads began to pile on, but he struggled not getting to see you for so long.

Swallowing thickly, Dave gave up on all decorum and falseness of polite wishes, not missing the side-eye his mother gave him as he slumped out of the conversation, not having a single fuck to give about the names of paint samples Aubrey had been trying on the walls, but instead dipping down to sit in the chair closest to himself. The night was pushing on, and he had no doubt that the dinner would be being served soon, and he placed his chin onto his hand, elbow balanced on the tabletop as he propped up his head and tried to stay awake.

“Dave, you’re being rude!”

He flinched as his mother pinched at his shoulder, and he swatted her away, glaring up at her as he scowled at him, and Aubrey chuckled a little, a sound that grated his nerves when he was already wearing so thin on tolerance for any kind of festivities right now. “Girl talk, am I right?”

“Sure, Aubrey.”

“I think there’s something else bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?” His mother cooed a little, patting her shoulder, before seeming to find someone else to talk to, wandering away across the room and starting up another conversation, leaving him alone with the woman, and she sipped at the drink in her hands as she stared at him. “Is it because you’re here alone?”

Narrowing his eyes on her, he huffed, and she shrugged slightly.

“It’s okay to be alone, Dave.”

“I’m not alone.” His words were growled out a little bit, and she only seemed to fix him with an even more pitying look, shaking her head slightly, grown-out bangs falling into her face from the slicked-back style she’d put them in, and she tucked them away, the smile on her face now unobscured, and he couldn't quite decipher whether it was condescending or just overly concerned. “I’m not. My girlfriend just couldn't make it for Christmas this year.”

“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”

He deadpanned, straightening up a little bit to look at her more clearly, and she fixed him with an innocent look. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” She took another sip of her drink, clearly not done with her statement, before her shoulders were slumping as she waved her hand, trying to brush it off. “Sometimes it can just be a bad sign, y’know? When one person in a relationship starts to give up, and the other person starts having to carry all the weight. It never works out.”

“Oh, you mean like how it ended up with us?”

“That’s not fair.” She mumbled, at least having the dignity to look a little offended and guilty. “I was young, I was all over the place with my emotions. I didn’t know what kind of baggage I had then. I thought you were right for me, but it didn’t work out. I’m just saying, anybody who can’t make time for you at Christmas might not be worth it. C’mon, Dave, it’s the holidays. What else could she be doing?”

He gaped a little, not quite sure how to reply, a prickle of doubt racing through his veins as he thought about her words, a feeling he knew was inappropriate because he trusted you implicitly and knew you’d never lie to him, and he was certain that the flame was burning strong still, but now she’d planted that seed of anxiety, and it was growing rapidly.

“She should be here. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, after all.”

His lips flicked up at the edges, a smile mirrored on her face as she finally cracked through his shell, and he knew she wasn’t all that bad, she just had no filter and ofter was a little too crass for her own good, but Aubrey wasn’t a terrible person, he just didn’t like her all that much. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he patted himself down for it, lifting it to his face, and feeling the entirety of his body perk up as your name flashed access the screen with a new unread message.

A simple text, asking what he was up to, and Aubrey chuckled as she realised it must have been you, but he was barely even in the room anymore, mentally he was in a bubble with you, now. Lifting his phone up to take a picture of the event before him, his eyes swept across everyone in the shot, just once, before he was pausing, and looking again. Lifting down the device, he stared out at the crowds with an uninterrupted gaze, checking that what he was wasn’t just a red-clad illusion on his phone screen.

No, he was right.

There you were, hands still tucked inside the pockets of your coat, scarf around your neck, and you waved at him, phone in your hand still open to the texts on the screen, and he shot up in his chair as he stared at you, jaw hanging open and a disbelieving look on his face. Turning off your phone and tucking it back into your pocket, you unwrapped your scarf from around your neck, hanging it up on the overly crowded coat racks, and turning away from him as you watched your boyfriend get up from the table to shoulder through the crowds towards you.

Slipping your coat down your arms and hanging that up, you shook your hair free of the windblown positions that it had been blown into, turning back to sweep your eyes over the hoards of people. You barely had a chance, before hands were finding your heels, pulling you forwards until you were sharing space with the man, breath shared, a shaky sigh released from him, before the gap was closed.

His mouth slanted across yours, warm and wet and eager, lips moving softly as he tries to tempt you to kiss him back, and you pressed back just as happily. Your hands sat on his sides, feeling him shake a little under your touch as you did, trembling at the connection as you finally saw each other again for the first time since the middle of the year, and he barely pulled back for breath, before he was kissing you deeply once again.

His fingertips were digging into the edge of your jaw, falling way lower and lower, until one was resting gently on your neck your pulse thrumming under his hand, as the other smoothed along your arm, dipping under to sit low enough to reach your waist. Giggling a little against his mouth as his fingertips tickled along your sides, he whined at the break in your exchanges, leaning in to press a series of shortened kisses to your lips until you were resting back from him, far enough for you to crack your eyes open and really take him in.

“Hi, Davie.”

“Really? ‘Hi, Davie.’ That’s all you have to say?” He repeated you, brows shooting up but a playful smile finding his lips as he pinched at your side enough to tickle you, a quiet yelp on your lips as you jerked, fixing him with a mock-glare that scarcely lasted longer than a second, before your arms were coming up to loop around his neck, allowing him to pull you in close again. “You have some explaining to do, ma’am.”

“Couldn’t leave you alone on Christmas, could I?” He smiled, bumping the tip of his nose with your own, and your heart raced in his chest as you found yourself wrapped up in him once again, the feeling being sorely missed. Running your fingers through his hair gently, scratching at the shorter hairs at the base of his neck, he let out a familiar little rumble of complete contentment as you did. “I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t know until about a week ago, but I realised that if I pulled some all-nighters and grabbed a last-minute plane ticket, I could be here to see you.”

One of his hands rubbed along yours lightly, sealing around your wrist to bring your hand around close enough for him to press a kiss to your palm, before letting it fall back to his shoulder. “When do you stay until?”

“Right through to the New Year, baby.” His face lit up, a smile that still managed to make butterflies raise up in waves within you, despite a year having passed in your relationship now. “I cleared my schedule for you. You’re going to be getting a whole lot of me real soon.”

“I should hope so.” He whispered, before pulling you back in, puckering his lips to tell you what he wanted, and letting you be the one to close the gap this time. It was softer, and calmer, and much more loving. The first kiss; needy and frantic and simply a reassurance that you were there and not a figment of his imagination had slipped away, and was replaced within the both of you as something that was much more about passion and comfort.

It hurt you, to see so little of him, to know that he missed you just as much as you missed him, every time you had to cancel a date, or fell asleep too soon in differing timezones, or staggered conversations that took the whole day to have via texts, all becoming irrelevant as you found one another again.

His tongue teased along your lower lip, prodding slowly, and you grinned, feeling his own lips curve up against yours in response, but you only made him wait a moment, before you were parting them and allowing him access to lick into your mouth. Beat shared, noses bumping together as mouths slid together and connected with deep and loving exchanges, head twisting to the side as you tried to push yourself up even further into him.

His hands slipped a little lower, the both of you seeming to forget the world around you for a moment as your front pressed to his, hearts beating together in unison and thudding against one another’s chests. For a moment, it was a space in which only the two of you existed, nobody else mattering, before the tranquillity was shattered.

“(Y/N)!”

A loud squealing, high-pitched, drawn-out and overexcited. A voice he knew well and Dave pulled away with a startled shock, eyes going wide and cheeks flushing red in a way that was mirrored to your own as embarrassment flushed your system, in time to find sights on the younger girl in the glittery dress dashing towards you. You dropped down to take a knee just in time, before you were almost being knocked over, her arms wrapping around your neck and her face pressing into your neck as she all but screamed happily into your ears.

Standing back up with the little girl in your arms, her legs found a place either side of your body, sitting on your hip as she held on tightly, and you turned to face her older brother, an adoring look you recognised well was flashing on his features. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Stella! We can have so much fun now that I’m back, though!”

“I got new toys!” She was still shouting, making Dave wince a little beside you, and you were sure your eardrum was ringing, but her apology as your boyfriend chastised her for her volume was enough to make your heart melt. “Can I tell you about them?”

“Why don’t you tell me over dinner? I’m a bit of a surprise to everyone, so I think I’ll be sitting at your table again.”

“Well, that seems fitting,” Dave mumbled, grinning at you when you rolled your eyes at him, and yet you still found yourself leaning into him when his hand found your lower back, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and scoffing at the dramatic whining and groaning Stella let out at the simple affections. “It’ll be just like last year.”

“I am a sucker for tradition.” You joked, his eyes glinting slightly, and before either of you could say anything else, attention was being called by the tap of a microphone on stage, announcing to you all that it was time to take your seats. Letting Stella back down to the ground, she was bolting away with the intention of leading the way from the very second her toes hit the floor, and Dave was soon after catching your hand with his, squeezing tightly.

He let you lead the way, pulling him along slowly, and his mum gasped loudly as he approached the table behind you, a beam taking over your face at the excitement that the older woman displayed. She was over to you both in a flash, arms held wide before they were wrapping around you and pulling you into her embrace, your hand shaking away from Dave’s so that you could hold her back just as tightly.

You giggled, your eyes meeting his for a second as his mother squeezed you tightly, rocking you from side to side, before she was finally letting you go. She had released you, just long enough to pinch at one of your cheeks lightly, the other arm sitting on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Your mother said you couldn’t make it! We weren’t expecting you, darling. It is lovely to see you, though!”

“Well, I came back as a surprise, she had no idea until she got a call to pick me up from the airport this morning.” His mother’s face cracked out in a smile as she laughed with you, and you felt his fingers inching along your arm, smoothing over your palm before weaving with your own once again, lacing together, and you wrapped your own back in comfort and security to assure him.

“It’s a good thing you did, too! Dave has been moping about all week since finding out you couldn’t make it.” You grinned, turning to look at your boyfriend as his cheeks flared up with red, swallowing thickly and glaring at his mother.

“Mom!”

“What? It’s true, and you know it! You’ve been moody and sulking, pouting all around the house.” He only flushed further, and you leaned in, muffling your laughter by pressing your face into his shoulder, and feeling him sag a little underneath you, giving in, stomping his foot like a child as he whined.

“Mom, stop it!”

“I think it’s cute.” You finally managed to contain your giggles, wrapping your spare arm around his waist, his other hand coming up to rest on your arm and he huffed out as he gave up on the argument, no longer fighting the truth about it all. He had been moody and grouchy, not excited to see in the new year alone, but now you were here with him, and his whole world was lighting up once again. “I missed you, too.”

“You two are just the sweetest.” Your eyes widened, almost having forgotten that his mother was there, and he chuckled down at you, smirking a little now that you were just as embarrassed as he was. “Do you want us to shuffle all the chairs up? We can drag another seat over, I’m sure we could make it work.”

“Thanks, Mrs Hodgman, but that’s okay. I already promised Stella that I’d sit with her this year again, and I never break my promises.”

She only chucked, nodding her head, before you were leaning up to press a kiss to Dave’s cheek, grinning to yourself at the warmth of his skin as he flushed with shyness once again. “Okay, my dear, I’ll go and have a word with the kitchen and see if we can’t rustle up an extra plate for you.”

She walked past you both, wobbling a little on tall heels as her wine raced through her systems, and your boyfriend shook his head as he watched his mother go. He was tugging on your arm, and you looked up at him, following his footsteps over to the kitchen, and Stella was waiting patiently, her hands pressed down into two seats on either side of her own body, preserving them both as other kids began to fill in around the table, denying them the chairs each time, a toothy grin with a missing tooth flashing up as you both arrived.

“Scoot, Stell.” Dave tapped at the back of the left end chair as you took the right, and her head snapped up to him, chocolate brown curls the same shade as her older brother’s bouncing as she did.

“No!”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He looked utterly shocked, crushing down to her height, and she shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head at him.

“I want to sit in the middle! She’s my friend, too!” The younger girl insisted, and you couldn't hide your amusement as Dave gaped, eyes flickering up to you for support, before narrowing playfully when he realised he didn’t have it.

“Yeah, Dave. Stella’s my friend, too.”

He growled a little, the action more directed at you, a heatless warning, and his hand ruffled in his sister’s hair as he stood up, begrudgingly taking the other seat. He shuffled closer, until the edge of his chair was pressed up against hers, and his hand was reaching out to rest along the back of your chair, playing lightly with the strands of hair that he could reach, while your attention was turned to his sister. She was a whole year older, but just as adorable, and was already beginning to tell you all about her experience so far in second grade.

Her plate was placed down in front of her, and she paid no mind to it, the other children around the table receiving third as well, but she was far more focused on telling you all about the other kids that she’d met. You took charge, cutting up her food for you as you began to add into her stories, telling her all about your own experience in second grade.

“Y’know, Stell, I met your brother when I was in second grade.”

Her jaw dropped, turning to look back at Dave, who only nodded his head in confirmation, but seeming a little strained as he tried to remember that far back. “Really?”

“Really! He had just moved here, and you weren’t even born yet.” You poked at her sides, tickling her a little, and she broke out in a fit of childlike giggles, squirming slightly, pushing at your hands as she did. “He had two front teeth missing, and a buzzcut.”

Dave groaned behind the little girl, seeming to be patching it together now, a wicked glint on your face as you thought about even more details of the story. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands having been growing out over college, more than the short length that they had been when you’d reconnected with him last year, the strands sticking up a little over his head, messy and untamed, only making it worse the more he messed with it.

“He was in a superhero phase, and he came in wearing a different costume every day of the week.”

He let out a loud groan, but there was a smile hidden behind it, and you finished chopping up her food for her, placing the knife and fork down on the edges and pushing it back over to her, little hand picking up the shorter set of cutlery. The chair your boyfriend was sitting in scraped over the floor as he pushed away from the table, beginning to stand up and leaning over to press a kiss to his sister’s head as he passed her by, before coming to a stop before you.

The adult dishes were beginning to be bought out now that the kids all had their own, and he tipped his head in the direction of the bar, making you realise that neither of you had a drink. You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind excitement of surprising your boyfriend with your return that you’d completely neglected the scratching dryness in your throat, or the rumble in your stomach, lighting up a little bit at the thought.

You nodded your head, tipping your head into his hand when it came to rest over your cheek, leaning down enough to brush his lips against your own. It was barely a kiss, before a little hand was slamming down on the table beside you both, making you jump. “Gross!”

You couldn't help the laugh that you let out, head snapping back down to look at Stella as she glared at you both, your cheeks aching from the grin you held. “You don’t like kisses, Stell?”

“No!”

“Not even if I gave you some little kisses?” You leaned over, scoping her up and into your lap so that you could kiss the crown of her head, holding her to you tightly as you peppered the side of her face with little affections, her face growing red as she laughed and wriggled in your arms, barely an effort to escape at all as she cracked up. Just when she thought she’d made it and you let her go Dave caught her on the other side, pressing a kiss to his sister’s cheek, grinning wickedly as he walked away, and you watched her rub aggressively at both of her cheeks as she tried to wipe them clean.

When she deemed the task finished, she set off on her eating, pointedly moving across a seat to get away from you, dragging her plate over to the chair Dave had once sat in, sticking her tongue out at you as she went, and you only beamed, before she was diving into conversation with the other children.

A waiter leaned over, placing two larger plates down, one for you and one for your boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he glanced around the table, before looking to you, and you shrugged, knowing how amusing it was that for now the second year in a row, you were sitting at the kid’s table, despite being in your second year of college, and they walked away with a chuckle.

Moments later, Dave was filling the chair once again, placing a glass down in front of you and raising his brows in silent question of approval as he did. A bubbling gin and tonic, a bottle of beer for him, and you lifted it up, taking a sniff of the contents inside, before taking a testing sip. A concoction of fruity flavours exploded within your mouth, a delicious mix, nodding your approval to him, and he grinned around the neck of his beer as he took a swig himself.

His gaze lingered on you, remaining while you ate, beginning your food, only ever leaving you for a few moments as he ate himself, or answered a question for his sister or one of the other kids, looking away momentarily to chop food or find his drink. It wasn’t an uncomfortable stare, and each time you caught his eyes throughout your conversation and the meal, you felt nothing but utterly loved and cherished.

So, in the pause between your dinner and your dessert, you turned to him, shifting in your seat enough to tangle your feet with his under the table, and his smile seemed to brighten even further.

“Are you trying to burn the image of me into your head, or something?”

“What do you mean?” He moved a little himself, facing you more, one hand smoothing over the tablecloth to find your hand, lacing your fingers together. You waited, and you could tell that he knew exactly what you meant, before shrugging a little, and finally tearing his eyes from you to look around the room. “I hate that we’re always so far from each other, and that this is the first time I’ve seen you in months because college got so busy. I love you, and I’m happy with how we’re doing, but it just..”

“Sucks?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, squeezing your hand back when you squeezed his first, and he watched as people came and went, your attention turning to the mingling folks around you too, and yet you were still entirely wrapped up in one another. “I’m patient, and I’m happy to wait, but sometimes I just feel like we’re being left behind. I mean, my mom and all the neighbours keep going on about the future. They’re all bugging me about when I’m going to move out, start growing up. Simon and Big-C have their own place, Jane just got married, even Aubrey is engaged and moving in with Ronnie.”

He was talking himself breathless, and despite the slightly angry tone to his voice, you knew how to read him, being able to tell that it was more stress than it was frustration, and you placed a hand over his cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin gently to soothe him. Placing his hand over your own, and holding it there.

“Everybody just keeps acting like I have no plans, and that my life isn’t going anywhere, but when your future is half-way across the country for fifty percent of the year, it makes it harder to know where you’re going and what to do.”

His words made your heart flutter, and you choked back the cooing that you wanted to make, pulling him in closer to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

It was chaste, and delicate, and you sighed out happily against his mouth as the hand closed over your own simply tightened, lips melding in slow patterns that had your heart beating out of your chest, exploding with emotions, finally being with the man you loved once again. Dragging your hand from under his, you pushed it further around into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, a happy sound making itself known from the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest as he tipped his head further into your hold, and you let out a breath giggle as your lips broke apart, finding him relaxing more and more into your touch with each little scrape, knowing just how to comfort him after all this time.

“Don’t worry, Dave.” He only hummed, eyes fluttering shut as a content look washed over his features, head hanging back, now longer only supported by your hand to hold it up, and his body was sagging into the chair, like the actions you were taking had been a reset button for his entire body, stress clearing away. “You’re my future too. We will have plans, when we’re ready, we don’t have to rush for anyone. It’s me and you, and we can take out time.”

“Me and you?” He repeated, words a little slurred, and he jumped at the shock of a plate clanging down, the waitress apologising as the spoon clicked on the edge of the dish, before pudding a dessert down before you as well, and he forced himself to sit back up, to crack his eyes open and let your hand slip away to take your spoon. “You promise that?”

“Of course, I do. I love you.”

He nodded his head, pecking the tip of your nose as he shook himself off slightly to try and bring some life back to his body, and pulling your chair up and under the table properly.”I love you, too.”

“Good, because that tiramisu looks really good, so I’m kinda’ hoping you’ll share.”

He grinned, eyes flicking over the dish you had yourself, considering it all, before nodding his head. “Okay, but only because your pie looks good too, so we’re splitting them both.”

“Deal.”

Poking your spoon into the dish, you dragged it towards you a little, a disbelieving scoff on his lips as he caught his spoon against the other side, stopping you from taking it any further, and stabbing the cutlery into it hard enough to chime against the counter, before taking a large mouthful of it and bringing it up to eat.

You cringed through a laugh as he chewed loudly and unattractively, his spoon battling yours each time you tried to take a bite of the dessert. “Dave!”

“Hey, I said you could have some, but you have to earn it!”

“That’s how you want to play this?” He nodded, taking another bite of his, and you took the chance, dragging your spoon into it and pulling off a piece of the creamy treat, and he was quick to use his own to scrape it back into the dish. “That's no fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

He picked up the dropped chunk, watching as you pouted, eating it with a wide smile, and half of his tiramisu was already gone, and you gave a dramatic sigh. Instead, you pouted, deciding that if he wanted to play dirty then you would too, and you twisted away from him to face your own sweet, dragging a piece of the apple pie away from the pain crust, and lifting it up to your mouth.

He chuckled beside you, more than amused with his own antics, and you ignored him, letting out a little huff, and not responding to him when he cooed a little, and you tried some more of your pie, staring down into the dish as you pretended to be upset. “Oh, c’mon, baby. I’m only messing around with you. Here, you can have some now.”

He pushed the bowl closer to you, and you looked up at him again, pretending to study him for a moment, and he lifted up his spoon, holding it out to you with a large piece of tiramisu, the Italian delicacy calling out to you. Just as you leaned in to take it, he swerved it around, closing the mouthful between his one lips, and laughing around it as your jaw dropped in shock.

“I won’t fall for your fake sadness, I know when you’re really mad. Good try, though.”

You growled a little, biting at the inside of your cheek to contain your smile, before raising a brow, and dropping your act to deadpan at him. “Fine. War is war, don’t blame me when you regret it.”

“Sounds like a threat?”

“It is.”

It was just the two of you at the table now, the kids long since having finished their ice creams, sticky dishes and spoons left littered around the table as they’d all run off to play, and it was just the two of you left, the low lighting in the corner of the room, a smirk spread over your features as an idea came to mind.

Your hand landed on his thigh, leaning over to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling him shake a little under your hold as he laughed, bringing up the hand that was resting on the back of your chair to weave into your hair instead. His head twisted, lips brushing your ears, and hot breath washing over your neck as he curled back around you.

“Squeezing my thigh and kissing my jaw won’t work, I’m not the same shy kid I was when you first started using that trick.”

You only hummed, nipping a little at his earlobe, before lifting one leg to rest right over the top of one of his own, the blockade of your leg meaning you had enough space to slide your hand up higher. His breathing did hitch then, as your fingers pressed lightly to the crotch of his jeans, and you settled your head onto his shoulder. To anyone who may look over, it was simply a couple cuddling in the corner, young adults who’d missed each other enough to put aside the general rules of PDA for one night, and it would be okay.

Instead, you licked lightly at the base of his neck, a spot you knew made him weak, and your suspicions were confirmed when he trembled under your touch. “Who’s not playing fair now, huh?”

“It was you who made it a war, Dave.” He dropped his spoon, a loud clanging, and he was choking back a moan as you rubbed your palm down against his cock, feeling him twitch under your touch as he did, even through the layers of material. His hand came down, snatching at your wrist, and cursing under his breath as your actions refused to cease, barely suppressing a moan as he began to grow under your hand.

“Fucking hell, you’re evil.” He whispered, and you nipped lightly at that same spot again, hearing him whimper as you did, hips bucking up into your hand, fingers gripping your wrist even tighter as he tried to push you away, yet never trying to hurt you. “I give up, I give up. Fuck, if I cum in my pants at a Christmas party, you’re never driving my car again.”

“You surrender?”

Squeezing the bulge in his pants, you lifted your head, his eyes rolling back in his head as he bit down on his lower lip, turning his face towards yours and pressing your foreheads together to hide the expression on his face. “I surrender. Dessert is all yours.”

“That’s all you had to say.”

He wheezed out a relieved breath as you finally took your hand away, panting slightly as he came down, having been halfway to creaming himself at the age of twenty like some kind of horny freshman, and he looked mildly irritated when he finally managed to pull himself together. “That was low.”

You only grinned, taking his spoon and enjoying the final bite of his tiramisu, watching as his thumb came up to wipe the powdery dust it had been sprinkled with from the edge of your mouth, but a frown was still sitting on his features. “Hey, you’re the one who wouldn’t share. Besides, it wasn’t so low back in May when you stuck your hand up my skirt while we were playing pool at the bar, huh?”

His eyes flashed over for a second, remembering the moment clearly. He’d been losing, the two of you having snuck into one of the bars on campus and gotten a little tipsy, and after boasting just how good he was at the game, to be losing to you in his hazy state, and as you’d leaned over the table, he’d stood behind you, fingers pinching your clit roughly through your panties and making you fall forwards onto the table, a cry on your lips as you lost the game. It had led to some pretty amazing sex when you’d made it back to his flat, though.

“Besides, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.” He mumbled, watching you switch between dishes once his was empty, his jaw hanging open as he waited for you to serve him up a piece of the apple pie. His hand came down to rest on your thigh, holding you close to him as the two of you happily shared out the foods, before falling into comfortable silence.

It was whispers about anything and everything you could think of, nothing too deep, simply making passing comments about what you’d been up to, small talk that would usually come along via your video call dates. His sister had come and gone, crawling up into your lap to sit with you for a while, more than happy to fill the silence as you asked her about what she and the other kids were up to, before she was running away again to chat with her friends.

The conversation went on, chatter about college, updates on all the extra work you’d been doing that had prevented either of you from being able to make any trips in the last few months, straining the long-distance relationship that you were already sharing. First-year had breezed by, being easy enough that since last Christmas, the two of you had made plenty of time to visit one another, meeting up halfway between or making the full trip for the weekend, but second-year had come down hard, and had been kicking your asses.

You moved yourself, his arm settling behind your chair so that your head could fall to his shoulder, one arm slung over his waist, and tiredness began to creep in. You could suppress it for a while at first, holding in your yawns, and being able to follow the stories he was spinning for you, updating you on everything that his friends - both college and at home - had been up to, soft laughs on your lips with each adventurous tale he shared.

Eventually, though, he had caught on, going quiet as he let you fall into a half daze, the hand behind your body moving to stroke over your shoulder, comforting and warm as he just held you there.

“You falling asleep on me, sweetheart?”

“No, no. I’m totally awake. I’m here to spend time with you.” Your words were a little mumbled from sleep.

“Yeah, sure you are.” He teased, jousting you on his shoulder, and you groaned, but sat up, shaking your head to clear it before blinking your eyes into the lights again, trying to readjust.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little tired.” He only nodded his head, watching as you stood up on shaky legs, and following behind you. “My parents are going to be here all night. I can just tell.” You glanced over at them, finding them sitting around one of the tables, chatting away happily with no signs of stopping any time soon, and Dave slipped an arm around you, directing you over to where his mother was and showing you that he was in the exact same boat. “Come get my coat with me?”

He nodded, following after you, and lifting it down to help you pull it up your arms, booking yourself a cab as he tied your scarf around your neck for you, making sure you were nice and cosy.

Another yawn was pulling at your lips, and the second it was finished, he was offering you a soft kiss, one that you barely had the energy to return as you began to slip closer to just passing out in your exhaustion. Time zones were a real bitch, you were getting the short end of the stick with jetlag, but it was all worth it.

“You know, I could come with you? We could stay at my place, tonight?”

“I should probably stay in my own bed for the first night back, don’t you think?”

The cold was enough to make you gasp loudly as you stepped into the night air, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than you had a moment ago as your breath clouded in the air, making you shiver, sticking your hands into your coat pockets as you moved down to the curb to wait for your taxi to arrive. Seeing headlights coming around the end of the road, you could barely make it out, but suspected it to be your vehicle, and you rocked up onto the tips of your toes to steal another kiss from him, his lips working against your own just as eagerly. Licking along his lower lip, he parted them for you with a soft moan, tongues tangling together, his hands finding your waist and pulling your body flush up to his own, keeping you close.

It was a kiss that was long overdue, finally getting a real moment alone together, nobody around, no crowds, just the two of you for the first time in months, and you were looking forwards to much more time with him like this over the holidays, and beyond it. One of the hands on your waist was now sliding up, tangling into your hair as his head tipped to the side, stealing deeper access to your mouth, before pulling away for breath only a moment later.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my place?”

“Tempting. Very tempting.” You mumbled, letting him lean in for further kisses as he laughed softly, the innuendo in his words not being missed but slipping way as irrelevant, and the squealing of tires pulling up only a few metres away told you that your assumptions had been correct, your taxi waiting patiently, phone buzzing in your pocket to confirm it.

“I could make you breakfast if you did.”

“How about you take me out for breakfast on Boxing Day morning? I’ll finish my unpacking and we’ll go for an early morning date.” He sighed, nodding his head and walking over to the car with you, reaching down to open the door.

“Fine, Boxing Day breakfast date it is. But only if you promise that it’s a lunch date and dinner date, too. I want you for the whole day.” He pulled it open, letting you step down from the sidewalk and settle into the seat, closing it and leaning against the open window as you smiled up at him.

“All-day date, you got it.”

“Call me tomorrow?” He questioned, not wanting to hold you up much longer as the driver waited, politely turning up the radio a little as the glass stayed closed, giving you both privacy.

“Of course, I have to wish my man a Happy Christmas, right?”

“It’s much happier now you’re home.” He leaned in, pecking your lips one final time, before stepping away from the car, and sticking his hands into his pockets, the car revving to life a little. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You nodded, blowing him a kiss and rolling the window back up, the car setting off on its journey.

This wasn’t like last year, where Dave had been waiting in unknowing anxiety as to whether he was even going to see you again. This year, he was filled with confidence, enjoying the part around himself instead of sulking in a corner, because this year, he was happy. You’d texted him a half-hour ago to tell him you were almost ready, and that you’d be on your way over soon, and he was anticipating the arrival of his girlfriend with joy.

He’d allowed his mother to introduce him to as many people as she wanted to, mingling and socialising as she willed him to, until finally, he’d been left along in peace to get a drink. He was now standing still staring down at his phone as he lurked near the dining table, the chairs dragged away into the living room and the wood pushed up to the wall, laid out with food and snacks, and just waiting for you.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt him jump, before your hands were connecting over his middle and he was dropping a hand down to cover yours. His other shifted around between you, tucking his phone into his pocket, before turning in your arms to take you in. Before he did, he leaned down, pressing a careful kiss to your lips as not to smudge the makeup you had done, a fresh layer of lipstick sitting on pouted lips, and he hummed happily as you squeezed yourself in a little closer to him.

“Missed you.”

His words were mumbled against your lips, and you grinned, trying to kiss him through it and whining when he pulled back, but shaking his head, feeling mischief coarse through your veins. “You saw me yesterday. And the day before that, and before that, pretty much all week. Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“I’m never going to get sick of you, baby.” His hands found your cheeks, tipping you back a little bit as your smiles were pressed together, ruining what would have been a romantic kiss, but you couldn’t contain your joy, cheeks aching as you tried to straighten it. “You look pretty.”

His hands slipped down to find yours, holding you out before him and dropping one, lifting the other to twirl you around in the golden wrap dress that you were wearing, a low whistle on his lips, and he tugged a little at the belt around your waist, raising his brows as the material gaped open a little with your movements, exposing your thigh to him as the hem of the dress at around the middle of your calves.

“This is new.”

“I bought something special for the night, I wanted to feel good.” He grinned, lifting your hand up to sit on his shoulder, before placing both of his own on your waist, nibbling on his lip as he looked at you. “You scrub up pretty damn good yourself, Davie. All black suit, looking hot.”

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you back in for another kiss, groaning as the song in the room changed. Your lips were just brushing his, before his mother was darting straight through the room, calling his name loudly, and he sighed, pulling back from you to look up and find his mother, who was trying to shoulder her way through the crowds towards him.

“This is your song, Dave!”

“It’s not my song, this is just a song you play every year and make me dance to because I danced to it once in a middle school play.” His mother took no notice, rolling her eyes and grabbing onto his arm, trying to drag him away. He gripped onto your hand, forcing you to follow him along, until you could see Stella, tearing up the dance floor with the sugar rush she was currently holding, an upbeat song playing over the speakers and vibrating through the floors.

The part was reaching its full mass, the place absolutely teeming with people, far more than should be able to fit into a house like this, even if the gardens were open too, despite the cold weather, and yet there was still a spot cleared on the dance floor for him. His mother had found a dance partner, Stella was dancing with two of her friends in a crazy trio, and Dave was holding his hand out to you, wiggling his brows as the song progressed on. He didn’t give you a chance to mull it over, taking your hand and pulling you into him, your chest crashing into his, before he was positioning you to be able to dance.

“This is the worst song in the world.” You teased, bodies around you moving just as fervently, and he nodded his head, before the lyrics were belting out of him, shouted at the top of his lungs, and you were giggling as he twirled you around. “I am not dancing to this.”

“You have to!” He insisted, still trying to get you to move with him, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other connected with your own, holding it up in a waltz style pose, despite the fact that you’d never be able to waltz to this kind of pop.

“Says who?” Your laughter broke out again as he dipped you backwards, spinning you around, your bodies bouncing a little as you moved to the beat, and you couldn't deny that it was catchy, your feet beginning to move along with his, and the smile on his face only widened as you did.

“Says the laws of being my girlfriend. You have to dance with me, always, even if you think I’m embarrassing you.”

He let out a loud cheer, just to draw attention to you both again, but the smile on his face made it worth it all as you danced with him again. Your inhibitions were slipping away, heart beating rapidly in your chest and laughs drowned over the sounds of the music as you twirled around the room, almost bumping into other people on the dance floor as they joined in. The heat was building, your cheeks flushing as his skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, the song seeming to go on forever, and yet, you couldn't find it within yourself to care, because the moment felt perfect.

When the music finally ceased, you slumped against him, letting him catch you as the two of you panted, a few stray hairs sticking to your forehead for the exertion of the activity, and he laughed breathlessly, holding you up as the funky hip hop tunes continued on, the more tame songs would come along later in the night when only the adults were left, the kids still making the most of the evening.

Looping your arms around his neck, he smirked, hands finding your waist, as the two of you rocked slowly to the upbeat song that was playing, a smile finding your lips when his forehead came down to rest against your own. “So, later on, will you save me a real dance? When the slow songs are playing?”

“Who says I slow dance?”

“The laws of being my boyfriend.” He chuckled at your use of his words against him, before he was dipping down to press a kiss to your lips, sighs sounding from both of you at the chaste connection. “You’ll have to get used to slow dancing with me, Davie. As you said, all our friends are starting to grow up, getting engaged and throwing parties, and I’m going to want to slow dance.”

He nodded his head, spinning you out form his body and twirling you around, before he was bringing you back into his body, a smirk on his lips and mischief flashing across his eyes. “Who says you’re my date?”

“Oh, you got someone else?” You took the bait, gasping falsely as he grinned wider, a cocky look on his face as he held you once again, swaying you in his arms before dipping you backwards, lifting your thigh onto his hip for only moment, and when he pulled you back up, you were even closer than before.

“You know you’re my one and only, baby.”

You leaned up, mouths brushing together again. “Mhm, I better be.”

He closed the gap, teeth scraping over your lower lip at a more passionate connection, sucking on your lower lip slightly, enough to make you moan out a little under your breath, and his hands tightened on your body. The dancing you were enjoying had become more like swaying, no longer focused on the movements of your feet or the tune of the music, but just on one another.

Your hand came up to tangle in his hair, nails scraping over his scalp lightly as his fingertips dug into your waist, all but burning through the material of your dress, making you feel like flames were consuming you from the inside out. You’d never felt this way with a guy before, Dave mad you feel cherished and loved, everything you always wanted, without ever having to ask, he was perfect for you. He accepted every flaw and rumple, and he never made you feel anything less than beautiful.

You wanted to live in this moment with him forever.

It was short-lived, unsurprisingly, before the two of you were being pulled apart once again to mingle, your mother wanting to introduce you to people and show you off, telling them all about your big university plans, and Dave being forced to help his mother host, the hours of the night passing by.

You were moved from group to group, the same questions being asked every single time, repeating the answers like a script you’d learned as you recited facts about your course, and told them what you liked, and what you thought would be improved on. You were asked about your college experience and the campus, and everything that the middle generation could possibly think of. You were sick of college, you were sick of being asked about how hard it was to be away from your family and friends, or whether it was liberating and gave you your freedom. You didn’t want anything but to enjoy being home, to hear about what you’d missed out in, instead of being interrogated about your life.

You managed to escape from the conversations, hiding away in the corner and letting out a sigh, eyes closing for a second as you tried to steal a moment to yourself, your phone buzzing in your bra from where you had stored it, no pockets or a bag, and just as you reached for it, there was a voice calling your name once again, and you wanted to bite down on the inside of your cheek just to stop a scream of frustration from leaving you.

A blonde head of hair was bobbing towards you, leaving the group within which her date was wowing a collection of the locals with his information on music and his up and coming cat-food album. Aubrey Miller, somebody you had formed a begrudging allegiance with over this last year, the girl constantly messaging you on Facebook, commenting on your Instagram posts and retweeting you, and so you’d simply accepted that she was going to be a part of your life. Besides, you never wanted to feel like the jealous ex, because you weren’t and you knew Dave loved you, but sometimes it irked you how she always seemed to be around at the most inconvenient of times.

Your phone buzzed again, but she was taking both of your hands in hers, squeezing tightly and laughing as though something had been said. “It’s been so long since I last saw you!”

“Yep, that’s right.” You managed to muster a somewhat enthusiastic tone, unsure of how you did it, but she seemed to breeze on over it, charging straight into her next topic. “How is life at college? It’s so far away!”

“Can we talk about something other than college? I’ve been talking about it all evening.”

She paused, chuckling for a second, before nodding her head. “Sure, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about my new place yet! I’m having a house warming party, and I wanted to invite you. Dave and his family will be there, of course.” You ground your teeth a little, smiling through it as she spoke on behalf of your boyfriend, but knowing that deep down you were just a little frazzled because of the night.

“Sounds fun, I’ll be there.”

“Great, it’s in just a few days, I can send you the details!” You only nodded and smiled, glancing around the room to try and catch sight of your lover, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Besides, it’ll be nice for you and Dave to have some more quality couple time together, I know how lonely he’s been feeling lately.”

A lump formed in your throat, your eyes snapping back to her own as your brows furrowed, narrowing a little as you looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, gosh, no.” Her eyes widened, shaking her head as she realised how her words had come out. “I know what that came out as, but I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I hear some things, and he said some stuff earlier tonight.”

“Like what?” You mumbled, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at her, insecurities beginning to creep in.

“Well, I’m the only one still around here, so I talk to the parents a lot. His mom is really proud of him, and of you. She loves you, she talks about you both every book club, but Dave just misses you a lot. He tells her, she spills it to us, that's all. She likes me, but only as a friend. She never liked me the way she likes you, like you’re her own daughter.” You smiled a little at that, warmth blossoming in your chest at the idea of being welcomed so wholly into his family. “I was talking to him earlier tonight, just before you arrived, his mom was grilling him about moving out and making moves, plans for his life, y’know?”

“Yeah, he told me about that.”

“Well, did he tell you the part where he just felt alone, because he never got to see you? I like you, I admire you, I really do, but Dave is my friend. I’m not still in love with him, I’m in love with Ronnie, but him and I went through a hard time and Dave was there for me during that time. I want to be there for him, too.” You were suspicious once again, somehow feeling like you weren’t going to like what was about to come from her. “It’s Christmas, and you’re here now, so clearly we’re on the same page, but I told him that I thought you should be here, because it’s the holidays. I wasn’t trying to start anything, I was just giving him the same real talk that he gave me when I couldn’t see the truth about Ronnie.”

“The truth? Are you trying to tell me that you told Dave you didn’t think I was good enough for him?”

“No, of course not! I just told him that I thought he should be thinking about why you couldn't be here, and whether you were growing too busy for him, and he should prepare himself before any more hurt came.” Your jaw clenched, and she cursed under her breath, seeming to realise that she still wasn’t getting her words right. “I’m messing this all up.”

“You think?”

She pursed her lips at your hissed out words, and you stiffened as you felt arms sliding around your waist, a chin hooking over your shoulder, and she excused herself, pointing over her shoulder, before disappearing into the crowds, and you twisted around in the arms of the man who was holding you. “You haven’t been replying to my texts.”

“You feel alone?”

His face dropped, the smile disappearing, and eyes widening as he looked at you. “What?”

“You confessed to Aubrey and not me?” He looked panicked, freezing up before you, and you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to reassure him a little, not wanting him to bolt or get overly anxious. “You should tell me these things. I’m your girlfriend, if we’re having issues, I want to know about it.”

He held onto your hand, bringing your knuckles to his mouth, pressing kisses along them as he sighed. “We don’t have any issues at all, sweetheart. It’s just me being insecure and needy, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I just miss you a lot, but I know you’re busy.”

“I would make more time for you, though, if I knew you needed me.”

“Yeah, but then you’d be putting all your work aside, and you’d get more stressed than you already are, and I don’t want that.” Your heart warmed, watching him put your needs before his own, and you leaned up enough to bump your noses together. “I’m sorry, I just wish we had some more time together.”

“I know, but we will, okay? I promise, the future holds a lot of quality time for me and you.”

“It does?”

There was a hopeful tone to his voice that made your lower lip tremble a little, pressing a series of kisses to his lips that were for his assurance as well as your own, and he sighed happily at knowing you weren’t angry with him, kissing you back until you pulled away. “Wanna’ find a quieter? We can have some quality time.”

“Yeah?” He wiggled his brows a little, and you grinned, already knowing exactly where his mind had gone. “It’s loud in here. I keep getting pulled away to mingle. You know what I really want?”

“What do you want, honey?” You reached up, fingers smoothing through his hair, weaving through the strands as you tried to restyle the hair atop his head that was starting to flop back down into his forehead as the gel wore off.

“I just want to makeout with my girlfriend on New Year's Eve, like I should be able to. I’m young and horny, and my girl is hot, I don’t want to spend it away from her and socialising.” He huffed out the words, and you tried to cover up your laugh, raising your brows. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because I’m remembering how we missed last year’s countdown, and your mom was furious about it, and she didn’t even know what we’d really done.” His lips parted a little as he remembered it, eyes glazing over as he went back to that moment, and his lips were beginning to curl up at the edges, pulling your body in a little closer to his own. “Stop that, I know where your mind is going.”

“You brought it up!”

“To prove to you that we have to stay here!” You laughed, and his hands ran a little further down your sides, pushing you closer to the wall, and your breathing hitched in your throat as his grip became tighter, body pressing into you as you were pushed up into the surface. “Dave..”

“We could be quick, back in time for the countdown. Nobody has to know.”

You shook your head, resistance beginning to fail as his nose nuzzled at the underside of your jaw, lips dragging over your skin teasingly, before he was pressing a soft kiss to the spot just below your ear that made you shake in his hold, your body betraying you as a tremor wracked along your body, making you arch up into him a little further.

“C’mon, kitten. You look so good tonight, and now you got me thinking about sex. What do you expect from me, when you’re here looking this good, and you’re all mine, huh?”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” You muttered, already preparing to cave in to his pleadings, before he was pinching at your ass roughly through your dress, snickering at the yelp you let out as he did, and he palmed roughly at the patch instead. As you released a little moan, his mouth closed over yours to silence you, a hot kiss as his tongue plunged into your mouth, tangling with your own without even a second’s hesitation.

You were putty in his hands, and you already know it. Clearly, he did too, because his hips were pushing into yours as he held you up to the wall, risking it all as people continued to wander around you, and it only took one o the more conservative neighbours or one of your parents to see for it all to be over, the two of you to be chastised like children again, taking you back to your youth, but you had absolutely no reservations when it came to him.

As you finally pulled back for breath, feeling his lips trace along your jaw, you nodded your head, giving in and telling him what he wanted to hear. “Okay, let’s go.”

He snapped up, lips a little swollen and eyes glossy, a look on his face that made your thighs clamp together and rub with need, and his gaze flickered down as he caught onto the action. Taking your hand in his, he dragged you away, glancing back at you over his shoulder as he heard you giggle, before making his way to the staircase. He went ahead of you, your feet barely having touched halfway up the set, before your eyes were closing in on the hoards of people upstairs, too.

It was twice as busy as it had been last year, the two of you having been able to sneak away to the empty upstairs, but even the corridors outside of his bedroom were busy, and as you finally pushed through the people to open the door, finding his bed piled high with coats, bags and purses.

“Of course.” He mumbled, practically hearing his mother’s voice yelling at him again for disappearing, a little task clearly done on purpose to ensure the two of you had nowhere to sneak off to this time, but he wasn’t giving up so easily. “Basement?”

You nodded, falling into step beside him, and chasing after him, adrenaline and excitement racing through your veins. There was always the risk of getting caught, there was last time too, but this was something else. Last time, you didn’t know what would come of it, it could've been a one-time thing, and so this one was all new kinds of thrilling. A year into your relationship, and you were making up for all the time that you had lost, searching for new excitement as you celebrated the time that had passed together.

As your fingers hooked onto the door to the stairs leading down, the light was already on, your stomach sinking, and the further down you went, the more kids you already found hanging out down there, a game of twister in play as thirteen year old girls all squealed and giggled, eyes wide as they stared at you while trying to balance.

You both mumbled your apologies for interrupting, backing your way out, and there was a pout on his lips as you returned to the main party. Leaning up, your body slumped into his, large hands smoothing over your back, before you were teasing the lobe of his ear with your teeth, a shudder rolling over his body as you did. “Don’t you have a treehouse?”

“Only if I can climb up the ladder behind you.”

“You’re going to get to see what’s up my skirt anyway.” You scoffed, and he only winked, the two of you stumbling out into the back garden dirty little jokes and exchanges as you poured out of the back door. There were considerably fewer people milling around the garden, the cooler temperatures making people prefer the indoors, and as you approached the treehouse, a muffled set of giggles caught your attention from the top of the ladder as you stood at the bottom.

An incredulous look flashed over your features at the idea that someone might have actually already beat you to that spot, and Dave groaned in frustration, kicking at the wood before him, and the ladder trampled a little from the force. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

He turned to look at you, frustration flicking across his face as disappointment set in, your shoulders rising and falling in a shrug, not sure what else to say, and the two of you began to trudge back inside. The backdoor way was blocked as you approached it, Dave’s hands clenching by his sides as he navigated you around to the side of the house, using the spare key to open the garage door, and knowing that there was a lock to the main kitchen from inside of it.

Sealing it up behind yourselves and replacing the hidden key, he navigated himself between his car and his mom’s, parked at alternating angles toward the kitchen, and an idea flashed through your mind.

“Dave!”

“Yeah?” His hand was sitting on the handle to the kitchen, ready to flick the lock on it open, light spilling out from the crack under the door.

“We’re alone.” He paused, and your arms motioned out around yourself, the chill of the room quickly making your hands clamp back up at your sides, and he seemed excited for just a second, before shivering himself.

“It’s freezing, and there’s nowhere to lay down.”

“Come over here and warm me up, then.” You smirked, leaning against the edge of his car next to the front, and his face lit up, hopping back down the steps towards you. Hands hooked under your thighs, lifting you into his arms for just a second, before the cold metal of the car’s hood was pressing into you, making you gasp at the chill, his body taking place between your parted thighs.

It all became irrelevant, though, when his mouth collided with yours, slamming together with heated intensity, and all of that burning passion came rushing back. Hands were burning on your thighs, bringing your legs around to wrap at his waist, the material of your dress falling aside as the wrapped material fell open, rough palms dragging over the smooth skin.

One hand was sitting on his face, feeling his jaw moved under your own, sharp and smooth from where he’d freshly shaven, rough kisses making your lips sting as you pressed back with an equal kind of love, your other hands tingling in his hair. Your lungs were burning for oxygen, your head spinning the longer you prolonged the inevitable. Finally pulling back for breath, you dragged your mouth along his jaw, feeling the moan that rumbled up in his throat as you licked your way along the column, his pulse pounding beneath the skin as you kissed across that same spot.

He tipped his head back, letting you work longer, and when your lips came to meet the collar of the same dress shirt he wore, your hands slipped down to his shoulders, to his chest, nails scratching at the muscles underneath loft and he puffed up into your hold, before your fingers were finding the buttons.

“I love it when you wear smart shirts.” You mumbled, each space of skin exposed as you undid his shirt being pressed with a kiss from your lips, faint marks of your lipstick being left over his skin the lower you went, until you were untucking it from the belt around his waist, and leaving it to hand open. Goosebumps travelled over his skin when your nails scraped across the lightly defined muscles of his abs, red marks being left in your traces as you did, your fingers hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He mumbled, fingers playing with the belt around your waist, the sequinned design making it harder for him to find the catch, but when it fell loose, he was quick to let it drop away to the floor, discarded as you pulled his belt free from his jeans. “You’re telling me that all that’s holding this whole dress shut is two buttons?”

His eyes were wide, nimble fingers undoing the button on the outside, and pushed the base of the dress open a little more, a smirk forming on his lips, before looking up to catch your eyes.

“Wearing my favourite panties, too, huh?”

“Not the matching bra, though.” Your words were whispered, a hoarse voice, and he licked over dried lips, before popping the final button and letting the material expose you to him fully. He hummed happily, two hands smoothing across your stomach, pushing you down until the cold metal of the car until you were laying back across it, large palms cupping at your tits and squeezing roughly.

You couldn't help the way you pushed up into his hands, a loud moan falling from you, and he shushed you quietly, bending at the waist to press a wet kiss to the spot just under your ribs, licking at the spot teasingly as he worked his way down and around your navel. “Keep quiet, baby, we don’t want anyone to come in here and see you with your legs wrapped around my head, do we?”

A single finger ran under the crotch of your panties, knuckle brushing over your clit, and you bit down on your lip to contain the whimper that such a feeling aroused within you, your hips bucking against his hand. He pulled back, snapping the edge of the lace garment against your folds, chuckling at the gasp you made when he did, before he was pushing them to the side. Holding them or of the way, dragging a finger across your slit, a happy sound produced from him as slick coated the tip of the digit, swirling with a filthy sound bouncing around the two of you as he did, sinking a single finger into your walls.

“So wet for me. I love getting this reaction out of you. What got you all worked up tonight, hm?” He was sinking further down, nipping along the indies of your trembling thighs, and despite the cold metal you were laying along, you were already burning up from the inside out, eagerly awaiting the moment in which his mouth would reach the place that you wanted it the most. “Was it the dancing? Or the outfit? Tell me what made you like this.”

He pumped the finger slowly, and your hands formed fists, nails digging into your skin as you found your first orgasm beginning to build rapidly within your stomach, guts winding up into a tightening coil and you tried to catch your breath just to be able to reply. “You did.”

“Mhm, I know that, but what specifically?” He pushed, dragging his tongue slowly over your centre, and you let out a loud cry, cutting it off halfway through by covering your mouth with your hand, eyes rolling back in your head as the pad of his tongue dragged slowly across your clit, electricity sparking across your body. “You can have what you want as soon as you use your words, kitten.”

“You did! Just you, nothing special. I just love you, you drive me crazy.” Your words were slurred and rushed out, but he paused for a second, his finger no longer pumping but instead curling within you, pad searching along your walls until he found the spot he was looking for, your entire body jerking at the stimulation with you.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dave, please! You know how I feel about you, stop teasing me now.” He nodded, pressing down once more on the patch within you that made you cry out, before he was pulling back, sinking to his knees entirely and giving you exactly what you wanted. A hot and wet mouth closed over your folds, tongue parting them and licking at everything that had already built up, teasing around your entrance as he slurped up what you had to give. Teeth dragged across your clit, enough of a sting to make you cry out into the cover of your hand, your eyes rolling in your head hips bucking up into his face, and he was more than happy to allow it.

Easing your thighs up onto his shoulders so he could move deeper, your legs clamping around his head with every motion he made, every shake of his head as he worked at your centre, lips sealing around the throbbing button nestled between your thighs to focus on the pleasure it brought you. Dave was skilled with his mouth, he’d known what he was doing since the very first time he’d gone down on you, but basic skills had become honed to your body, being able to read you, everything he did bringing you closer and closer to melting bliss.

Tears lined your eyes, squeezing shut to contain them as the simulations all became too much, and your other hand came down to thread into his hair, pulling roughly, your words muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and it became your only way of communicating with him. Fingertips were digging into the muscle of your thighs, holding you still as he dove into you, again and again, tongue lapping at every drop that came from you.

His tongue was plunging in and out of you, fucking you against the wet article as your keened up and into his hold, writhing against the hood of the car, speech becoming completely incomprehensible. Dave was by no means boring in bed, but there was always something exciting about the idea of fucking right when there was someone on the other side of a door, and right now there was a wheel party that might hear you scream Dave’s name, because as his tongue traced at your walls, lips and teeth teasing over your clit, alternating between where he wanted to please you the most, your arm was growing heavier and heavier, your climax teetering on the edge.

He knew it too, reading you like a book, pulling away and prying your legs from around his head before he was grabbing a hold of you and pulling you up to stand. Your legs buckled underneath you, almost falling away to the floor if it wasn't for his hands supporting you, a dark chuckle was sounding in your ear, a wet kiss placed to your cheek, before he was turning you around. Your hands pressed to the car, using it for support as he pressed up behind you, fingers dipping down and under the waistband of your panties.

He wasted no time, two fingers plunging into your already stretched out core, and just as a loud cry of his name left you, his other hand was skating up, over your throat, making your breathing hitch, before he was tipping your head back onto his shoulder. A thumb slipped into your mouth, and you sucked onto it, using the digits to muffle yourself as two fingers began to slam in and out of you.

It was oddly reminiscent, the amusement of the thought flashing across your mind for a split second, about just how comparative this was to New Years last year. Dave standing behind you, hand in your panties and cock straining into your ass as he prepared to fuck you senseless, except this time it wasn’t just lust, but love too.

As your peak came crashing over you, your eyes were rolling back in your head, shaking in his arms as he held you tightly, your underwear becoming far too uncomfortable as your juices slicked up his fingers, ruining the material as he kept going to rid you through it, the pads of his fingers brushing against your sensitive walls, the heel of his hand brushing over the swollen bud that fireworks explode within you.

When you finally couldn't take it anymore, he let you go, slumping down in an undignified manner across the hood of the car. Your dress was half hanging off of you, and you shucked the material down your arms and to the floor, feeling like you were burning alive in it now, skin covered with a thin layer of sweat from the heat building between you both, and your thighs were still twitching a little.

A hand came down roughly on your ass, and you jerked at the feeling, hissing out a curse to your boyfriend, and he didn’t reply, a more than proud and cocky look on his face as he palmed at the stinging skin.

“We have two options.” He knelt down, fingers hooking into your panties, pulling them roughly down your thighs, until you could step out of them, and he pressed kisses all the way back up along your skin, until he was standing again. “Option one, I can fuck you over the hood, but you gotta’ keep quiet.” He pinched at your ass cheek, the one he’d laid a spank to, and you moaned, pushing back into his touch.

“And the other option?”

“Option two, you can ride me in the front seat, and scream as loud as you want.” You whimpered, managing to find enough strength to turn around to face him, fingers hooking into his belt loops and stand up a little further.

“I like option two.” You whispered your response against his mouth, lips brushing together, and he could only nod, tongue flicking out to lick at your mouth a little, spreading the taste of you to your own lips until it was smeared there. He reached behind you, pressing up to you until you fell backwards, and he opened the door, stepping away from you with a wide smirk and half-lidded eyes.

Tugging open the front of his jeans, the zipper grated angrily as it came undone, and he palmed at himself through the thick material, thumbs hooking into the waistband to push both the denim and the cotton of his underwear beneath it down, a dripping and flushed red cock springing up, slapping against his stomach and leaking with shining precum, bobbing in the cool air, a sight that made you legs clench together tightly.

Collapsing down into the passenger seat, he patted at his thighs, tempting you forwards while rummaging through the dash box, finding one of the emergency condoms that the two of you kept hidden in his car at all times, and tearing the little packet open as you settled across his lap, cramped into the chair. As he rolled the rubber along his length, pumping himself slowly, and you cranked back the lever on the seat to push it backwards.

As he laid down you were granted more pace, hair falling around the pair of you like curtains, hiding the meshing of your lips as your hands found a home on either side of his shoulders to support the weight of you above him. His hands were on your hips as you sank down, rolling yourself along his length, the head of his cock dragging through your folds and pushing with a delicious friction against your button every single time.

Finally, when the tension became too much, he shifted, hips bucking up and into you, the head of his cock sinking within your walls, and he reached one hand out to find the car door, pulling on it and slamming it shut, before bucking his hips up the rest of the way inside of you. Your arms trembled, almost dropping you down onto him as the pressure of his cock within you stretched you to your limits, filling you up perfectly just as he did every single time, his name spilling from you in a drawn-out whine as he gave you a moment to adjust.

“That’s right, baby, call my name. Tell the world who makes you feel this good.”

“Dave!” He leaned in, sitting you up a little in his lap and helping you start to make rhythms with your hips, lips closing around one perky nipple. Your fingernails were dragging marks into the pale flesh of his shoulders as you held on for dear life, his mouth working over your chest with the same vigour and determined enthusiasm that he’d used to assault your core. “Fuck, Dave!”

The head of his cock was pressing up to that spot within you that made everything go fuzzy, the world melting away until it was just the two of you left. As you grew more in your confidence, the simple circling and rocking of your hips became more, you became bold enough to lift yourself up, slamming yourself back down onto him, and he switched to your other breast, equal treatment being shared across your body.

“Oh, my God. You’re so fucking good..” Your words were whined out, and you couldn't wait for the morning, when you’d wake up with that ache between your legs, body littered with fading bites and bruises made out of love, and he was beginning to thrust his hips up a little into you. For every movement that he made to meet you, another fizz of electricity and excitement raced through your veins, another moment here your entire body lit up with sunshine and fireworks just for him, because he took you to heights of pleasure that you’d never before experienced.

“Louder, kitten. Scream louder for me, like I know you can.”

He licked over the pad of his thumb, slipping the hand between your bodies, and pressing down roughly on the already overstimulated bud that was throbbing and desperate for attention with every brush across the hair-smattered skin at the base of his cock. “Dave!”

“Louder!”

Two fingers pinched at your clit, and your head was thrown back, eyes welling with tears at the joy of pain that made you unravel once again, nails ripping marks into his skin as you quivered on top of him, his name leaving your lips in a loud scream like a mantra. The windows were fogging up, the heat becoming unbearable around you both, and yet it still felt perfect, the two of you boiling in hell as you roasted within the weight of your sins; filthy and reckless, utterly debaucherous as you stole yet another chink of one another’s innocence with each dirty act.

You couldn't help it, the need that washed over you, the easy way that every time you were with him felt addictive never wanting to pull away, no matter how spent you became, because chasing a high with home was just too good to pass up on.

Your forehead pressed to his, skin slick and sliding together with sweat, and you slammed yourself back onto him, riding him for everything that you were worth, and from the way he was beginning to shake and quiver underneath you, you could tell that he was nearing a peak that would make his eyes roll back in his head the same way yours did.

“Always so damn tight, so good for me. Perfect, baby, all mine.” He was babbling, the same way he always did when he was nearing his climax, and your walls were fluttering around him, never once taking a break, chasing up both of you final crashing downs. You felt like you’d been electrified, and he planted his feet on the floor, arms circling your waist to pull you down until your legs were folded against the chair, chests pressed together, and he could buck up without restraint into you.

You were boneless, feeling like you’d become nothing but jelly, your throat raw as you cried out his name, eyes crossing at the feeling of how deep he could reach within you, and all that you could hear was the sounds he made, low growls and grunts, cracking voice as he moaned your name and a slew of praises, and your heart beating in your ears.

Your blood was rushing, heart threatening to explode entirely for you both, racing and banging against your ribs.

“Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.” You whispered, unable to muster up anything else, and as you came undone for the final time, the clenching of your walls dragged him along with you. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, only dragging out the feelings you were experiencing, and you felt as though you’d blacked out for a moment as your vision spotted, everything within you going numb, except for all the places where you were joined to him, hands on your waist and cock buried inside of you.

“Yes, kitten, fucking hell!”

“I know!” You squeaked, the aftermath of your orgasm making you twitch and clench around him, and he groaned, squirming at the overstimulation and lifting you off of him, pacing you down into the driver’s seat.

The windows were fogged up, marks streaked across the glass as you wiped them clear, and you reached across, opening one of the doors and sighing happily at the cool breeze that swept across your body. There was a chafing sting along the backs of your thighs from the denim that was still bunched tightly around his upper legs, and he cringed as he peeled back the condom that was still wrapped around his softening cock.

You tried to move, tingling sensations spreading the whole length to the tips of your fingers and toes as you tried to wiggle some kind of feeling back into them, sitting up a little as you made attempts to regain control of your body, and your elbow recessed into the horn, a scratch sounding from you as it sounded out loudly. Your boyfriend jumped too, loud barks of laughter leaving him as you did, and you almost joined him, before panic was washing over you both, heads snapping over to the garage door that connected to the kitchen, fear making your blood turn to icy cement in your veins.

When nobody came through, he turned to shoot out a mock glare, slapping at your thigh lightly. Lifting his hips up awkwardly, he managed to tug his jeans back up, searching around for his shirt and finding it discarded on the floor, unaware of when he’d even taken it off, but finding it messed up alongside the various garments that you had been wearing too.

“Think we should go back?”

“Probably.” He sighed, leaning over the centre console for a kiss, lips puckered and a hand landing on your cheek to pull your mouth down to his, delicate and sweet as he made the most of the final moments.

When you felt like you might be able to stand up without falling, you removed yourself from the car, the temperatures having dropped as you came down, and the chill of the crisp December air was making goosebumps rise through your skin. He was messing with his belt when you finally had your panties back on, your dress on your arms but hanging open, the same way his shirt was, and he closed up the car doors, chuckling at the way you wobbled as you buttoned your dress back up.

His hands found your hips, mouth coming back to claim your own, smeared lipstick making his pale skin stand out even more, and you giggling against his mouth, the rubbing of his thumbs through your dress was soothing and relaxing, bringing you back down to earth from the cloud nine that he’d taken you to, and you did up the buttons along the front of his shirt, trying to get them right without looking, but in your haze, the task was too hard, and you dragged your lips from his kiss to be able to check the task.

He smoothed down your hair for you, grinning at the messed up state that it had become, and you ran a finger around the edges of your lips to clear away the smeared lipstick that was now just a mess on both of your mouths, and you were glad that it had already begun to fade somewhat before this had all taken place.

He licked at his own lips, making sure the colour you’d printed onto him was gone, and when you finally judged yourselves to be appropriate again, or as appropriate as you were going to get, he opened the door for you both to reenter the house. The kitchen was warmer, and while you’d adjusted to the difference in temperature while Dave’s body had been pressed up to your own to keep you warm, you were glad to be back into the heated room. The doors were all closed now, the crowds having thinned, parents with younger children or older parents leaving, and yet there were still enough people that you managed to slip back into the party without being noticed as absent.

“See? Fifteen minutes ‘til the countdown. We’re just in time.”

Champagne flutes had been laid out along the island in the kitchen, all filled up perfectly, and Dave had two in his hands, passing one over to you, and you clinked them together, fingers weaving and palms pressed or one another’s as you walked into the rest of the house. The music had quietened, and the television had been turned on, the countdown displayed prominently on the screen as the final few minutes began to tick down, and Dave’s mother was making the rounds with a bottle of champagne to top up the glasses of anybody who needed it, always laying the perfect hostess.

Taking a small sip of the liquid in your glass, you winced slightly, but swallowing it anyway. It wasn’t your drink of choice, and you weren’t particularly keen on it, but since the two of you were not only celebrating the new year, but celebrating your anniversary, you were indulging in something a little classier. Dave��s hand was sitting low on your waist, letting you curl into his side, the night plodding on, and Stella and her friends were sprawled out on the couch, all looking absolutely exhausted, trying their very vest to keep their eyes open for long enough to see the countdown.

Now that it wasn’t as busy, you could see the extent of the mess left by the party, food trays and empty platters stacked high on the dining table, plastic cups and paper plates all over the room, both floors and surfaces, and there was enough leftover food and crumbs that it would probably fill a bag all on its own. Party poppers had been set off by the younger children before their parents had taken them home, leaving confetti and streamers on the floor, among the shredded remains of popped balloons and lost belongings. It was a catastrophe, and yet somewhere within yourself, you still couldn't wait until it is you hosting the party, getting to play that role.

A squeeze at your side brought you back to reality, dragging you from your thoughts, and you looked up to your boyfriend, finding him nodding his head towards the television, just as the timer clicked over onto one minute left, everybody beginning to crowd into the room just to see the screen, and you once again found yourself surrounded on all sides.

“What’s your New Year’s resolution, baby?”

You thought about it, unsure yourself as to what it actually was, nibbling on your lower lip a little, before letting out a sigh. “I suppose it would just be to complete this school year to the best of my ability, and to start journaling, because I keep wanting to do that and never get around to it.” He chuckled at the addition, watching as you pouted to yourself for only a moment, before you were turning your attention back to him. “What about you?”

“Same as every year; just to make every moment count. To make good memories.”

You giggled a little, a countdown beginning to start around you as the numbers on the clock hit twenty, and you rolled your eyes slightly, coming to stand before him more clearly. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Maybe, but it’s worked out pretty well for me so far.” His nose bumped against your own, and as the final countdown hit, your eyes were fluttering shut, whispering the figures as they dropped lower and lower, sinking into that same bubble that consisted of only you and he, until his lips were pressing to yours with the number one, a warm and loving kiss, his arm squeezing around you even more tightly than it had been and pulling you up into his chest, your free hand resting over his jaw, thumb stroking lightly across his skin, before settling to sit just behind his ear.

There was loud cheering, shuffling and celebrating, your bodies being jostled as hands landed on your shoulders in pats of congratulations and celebrations, but you paid them no mind, instead simply being focused on the way that it felt to kiss the man you loved as the year clicked over, welcoming you both into your second year of being in a relationship, and being in love.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed an equally adoring kiss to your cheek, and you could feel his smile pressed against you, the last scents of his fading cologne washing over you as you were shifted into a hug, feeling his cheek pressing against your temple. “Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, Davie.”

You knew that you should call your parents and wish them the same, and that you should begin to acknowledge all the friends and family that were surrounding you, but for one more selfish moment, you wanted to absorb the time you had with him. When he pulled back, it was to clink your glasses together, one eye dropping in a cheeky wink, before the pair of you were downing what was within your glasses, trying to school the appalled looks on your faces as the taste trickled down your throats, fizzing and making itself known, before it as finally gone.

“Go and find your mom and your sister, I’ll call my parents, and I’ll find you afterwards.”

He only nodded his head, a final peck pressed to your lips, before he was disappearing through the crowds to find them.

You managed to find a quiet corner, pulling out your phone and calling your mother to wish both her and your father a happy New Year, and listening to them talk all about how they’d spent their own evening, bickering playfully about the movie they’d watched and the conversations they’d had, before bidding you a goodnight and telling you to use the spare key to let yourself in, as they’d locked the door, and were on their way to bed.

It was almost fickle how quickly the masses began to clear away. Once they’d had their midnight celebrations and welcomed in the turn of the year, they were already all beginning to leave, cars along the street roaring to life and taxis being called to ferry the more drunken patrons to their addresses, and the people around you were beginning to dwindle.

It wasn’t all that hard to find your love, his height and hair giving him away, messy locks standing out in the crowns of middle-aged neighbourhood women that had gathered around him and his little sister to coo at them and wish them the best, his face flushed a little pink as his eyes finally connected with your own, a look in them that screamed for help.

You hesitated, allowing him to be fussed over for a moment later, before finally, you took pity on him, moving in towards the group and taking the hand that he had outstretched for you. The neighbours didn’t like you nearly as much as they liked him, because he was the ‘handsome young man’ that they wanted to set up with their nieces and grand-daughters, but you were just the polite young lady who had taken that chance away. They favoured Dave greatly, and you weren’t surprised at all, because you favoured him too.

He was honest, well-mannered, funny, and a real sweetheart. His fingers laced with yours, letting you pull him away from the groups, and he followed after you, feet kicking through discarded rubbish on the ground. A yawn was pulling at your lips, and you covered it with your hand, trying to shake your head clear as tiredness crept in.

“Do you want a lift home?”

“I’ll call a cab, you’re just as tired as I am.” You mumbled, and he nodded his head, leaning down to be able to press his forehead to yours as your eyes fluttered shut. “Let me go and grab some bags, and we’ll start getting this place tidied up a bit.”

“Leave it ‘til the morning.” He grumbled, hands locking on your hips to hold you steady, and you laughed softly into the space between you both.

“You’ll hate it in the morning if you do.” You took his hands, stepping away backwards, and pulling him along behind you as you tugged him into the kitchen, leaving him to lean against the counter while you found a couple of new bin bags, and pressed on into his hands. “If you clean up the whole kitchen while I do the living room, the next time we go out to eat, I’ll let you choose where we go.”

“That is a backhanded deal, because you know that you’ll complain and we’ll still go to your place.”

You shrugged, a cheeky grin on your face as you pecked his lips swiftly, barely giving him a chance to reply. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for loving me.”

“Oh, that’s what I get, huh?” He mocked, grinning as you walked away, and beginning to focus on the kitchen-connected-dining room, sweeping trash into the bag, and you made your way through to the main room. Dave’s mother was bidding farewell to the last of her guests, and Stella was fast asleep on the couch, curled up in her favourite party dress and what seemed to be every single sparkly necklace she owned.

When the door finally closed, you heard the relieved sigh that Dave’s mother let out, and you chuckled, turning to face her upon clearing the top of the television cabinet, no more plastic cups, plates and waste to go into it, and she grinned through her exhaustion as she saw you.

“You shouldn't be doing that, darling, that’s my job.”

“It’s no trouble. I even managed to wrangle Dave into doing the kitchen.” You teased, and she looked completely shocked just at the thought, before you were sharing tired laughs.

She held the bag open, and you grabbed every piece of litter you could find, and you were certain that while the room might look clear now, it would probably be littered with missed pieces of crap in the morning, when fresh eyes after a goodnight’s sleep were cast over it, but you were sure that the Hodgman’s would be able to handle it, especially with the head-start that you were giving them.

With the two of you working together, you managed to clear the halls and closets too, leaving everything empty as far as you could, by the time Dave came to collect the bags, and take them outside to the trash cans. Taking another one, you began to clear upstairs, finding it much tidier than it had been downstairs, only one bag’s worth of rubbish to be thrown out, and you took this one yourself, Dave trying to cover his tiredness as he swept the floors, glitter and confetti cleared from the solid oak floorboards until they were visible once again.

Stella managed to sleep through it all, drooling onto a pillow as she lay half-propped up, and your heart beat just for the sweet little girl, loving her as much as you’d love a little sister. Taking out the last of the litter, the bins were overflowing, the old year being ushered out by plastic and bottle, and you tried to shove it down, dusting off your hands when you finally made all the bags fit. The streetlights were yellowed and dull, making you realise just how late it had gotten and how tired you really were, the stars twinkling overhead and lulling you back into the sleepy haze you’d left behind to clean.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed at your skin, trying to warm back up as you wandered up to the house, letting yourself in and leaning back against the door as you let out a deep sigh. Dave was making his way up the stairs, carrying his snoozing baby sister, and you watched him go, until he was disappearing from your view along the corridor.

“You okay, sweetie?’

You jumped a little, snapping over to look at his mother, who was watching fondly from the doorway, a nostalgic look on her face as her hands sat on her hips, and you shrugged a little. “Just tired. Thank you for a lovely evening, Mrs Hodgman. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

She scoffed, waxing a hand as she made her way towards you, and leaning behind you to flick the locks on the door, rubbing your shoulder lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re never a bother. You’re welcome to stay, and Dave can get you all sorted out.”

“Well, I can take the couch and just sl-”

“Oh, honey, I’m a mom, not a nun. You’ve been dating my son for a year now, I’m certain you and my son have shared a bed before, so sharing a bed won’t be an issue tonight.” Your face flared up with heat and you gaped at her, watching as she flicked off the remaining lights around the both of you. “You can stay over, I’ve already left your parents a message to explain. There’s no way I could possibly send you home at this time of night and feel at all like a responsible mother.”

She was walking up the stairs ahead of you, leaving you to stand alone in the darkness with heated cheeks and amused embarrassment coursing through your veins. Following her up the stairs, she slipped into her own bedroom, wishing you a goodnight before the door was clicking shut, and Dave was backing out of his younger sister’s room and turning off the light. He jumped a little as he found you sitting on his bed when he turned around, eyebrows shooting up a little, and he stepped into his bedroom, a softening tired look on his features.

“I think your mom just gave me a version of ‘the talk’.”

“She did what?” He was equally mortified and amused, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner of the room, a hand closing behind his head to tug the material up and over his head, dropping it into the laundry bin in the corner.

“She said she knows we ‘share a bed’, and so tonight we can share a bed.” He snorted a laugh at your words, undoing the belt around his waist and leaving it abandoned on his desk, a smile on his face as he looked at you.

“That means you’re staying the night?”

“Yes, it does. You’d better find your best pair of sweats and a t-shirt for me.” He tapped at his drawers, undoing the button and zipper on his belt to be able to push them away down his legs, the denim pooling at his ankles, and your gaze followed them, a smirk on your face as he almost tripped over them while trying to get them off.

“You know where my clothes are, get them yourself.” He had a cocky look on his face, pulling a pyjama top on alongside his boxers and disappearing into the bathroom to clean his teeth.

It was a true statement, you knew exactly where all of his clothes lay, and you folded yours neatly to rest on his desk, finding a pair of sweats that hung baggy around your ankles and a t-shirt of his to wear, before allowing him into the bathroom. His hip bumped against yours, brush hanging from his mouth as he winked at you in the mirror, pulling a face a moment after, and almost making you gag on the mouthwash you had, chuckling to himself as you spat it away and cursed at him under your breath, and hot tap coming on.

He left you alone to remove your makeup, already curled up in bed with the covers pulled back when you entered the room, door closing behind you and light being flicked off, using memory alone to guide you to where you knew he to be laying.

When you were all tucked in around him, feeling him chuckle at the shuffling you did to get comfortable, you finally settled with facing him in the dark, his hand running up and down over your sides as you adjusted yourself, one leg slung over his, and the minty taste of his breath lingering on your tongue as noses brushed together, sharing a pillow.

“I like this.”

You hummed, eyes closing a little, your hand coming up to find his, bringing it away from your side to instead clasp it between your bodies, and you dipped your head down to press a kiss to the fingers joined with yours. “Sharing a bed?”

“Well, yes, but other things. Getting to see you as much as I have this week, it’s been incredible. I’ve seen you almost every day, and I’d have you by my side even more than that if I could. Going back to college is going to suck.” You squeezed at his hands tightly, a spark of excitement running through you, despite your sleepy state.

“I thought you loved your college? You always tell me such great things about it.”

“Everything else could be world-class, award-winning, and it’d still suck because you’re not there.” His words were slurred with sleep, and you let his hand fall down to rest on the mattress, your palm pressing over his heart, feeling it beat steadily and solidly under your touch.

“Well, that’s no fun, is it? I’m expecting you to show me all of the great things to do.”

He let out a huff of amusement, never shifting, but shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, if we ever get some free time during this year for you to come visit.”

“What if I didn’t just visit? What if I stayed?”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart, I might justice you down to the bed and refuse to let you leave.” He seemed to realise how his words had sounded, his body stiffening for just a moment, before breathy and quiet laughter was shared between you both, and he tipped his head up to press a long and slow kiss to your lips, both of you too lazy to really move, and so your lips played a lazy game together.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah? You breaking up with me? Because it would be awfully awkward if you did, we’d have to sleep back to back, and I would much rather cuddle.” He used the arm slung over your waist to pull you in closer, until his chin could rest on the top of your head and he could pull you in enough that your legs tangled and your chests pressed together.

“I’m not breaking up with you, you weirdo.”

“Your weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just listen to me, okay?’ He made a vague noise of agreement, going quiet despite the snickering that he was holding in, and you toyed with the material of his shirt, scratching lightly at his back as you tried to form words. “You know all the extra work I’ve been doing lately?”

“The work that’s been keeping you extra busy?” He sounded like he was pouting, a sulky voice, and you squeezed him a little tighter, not sure that you could get any closer to him if you tried, by now.

“It’s not been college work. Technically.”

“Extra credit?” He was half-asleep now, and you wanted to get this out before you lost him to sleep.

“No, transfer papers, and the likes.” You heard the sudden intake of breath that he too, body tensing up beside you, and then he was shifting a lot, pulling back and holding your face in both of his hands, more alert and awake than he had been for hours now. “There was a lot to do, I had class papers and catch-up assignments, and I still haven’t sorted out housing, but it went through. From now on we won’t have timezone struggles or differing social calendars, but our only problems would be different class schedules.”

“You’re serious?”

“One hundred percent.” You barely got your laugh out before his mouth was descending onto your own, a kiss that portrayed everything there was to say. Love, passion, adoration, gratitude, excitement, anything and everything that you could think of, feeling it all being conveyed.

This was exactly the reaction you’d been hoping for, you wanted him to be as thrilled as you were at the potential that the two of you would have, sharing a college as you moved to be closer to him, and there was a wetness to his cheeks as he twisted his head one gasping breath before he was dicing back in to kiss you again.

“I love you, Dave. I’m sick of being away from you.”

“I love you so fucking much.” He mumbled, lips stinging as they pressed for his, trying to return the eager kisses that he was gifting to you. When you finally needed a real breath, you pushed him back, shushing his complaints and groaning as you did, twisting your body to rest your head on his shoulder, and he kissed along the top of your head, any space he could reach, before finally laying back down into the blankets and settling in for sleep. “Happy New Year’s to me.”

#dave hodgman #dave hodgman x reader #dave hodgman x reader smut #dave hodgman/reader #dave hodgman/reader smut #dave hodgman the first time #dylan obrien dave hodgman #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien the first time

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shrinkyclinksfest · 3 years ago

Text

That's a wrap!

Thank you all so much for another successful run of Shrinkyclinks Fest! Altogether the works add up to 150K words of new Shrinkyclinks content and six new artworks! We want to thank all our wonderful writers, artists, promoters, promoters, readers, and supporters. We will see you all next year!

Without further ado, the Masterlist:

Title: Nazi Punks Fuck Off [Shrinkyclinks AU] Creator: bleedxblack Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 22 Warnings: N/A Summary: Local punk Steve Rogers goes to see his hardcore vocalist boyfriend, Bucky, perform with his band, Widow. Friend and guitarist Natasha took the first photo of them after the band had finished their set. Steve took the following photo himself while he watched his friends and lover play on stage.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271081

Title: Steve has hot guy problems Creator: HeyBoy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: T Prompt #: 33 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the ShrinkyClinks Fest prompt: Meet-cute at the gym! Smol Steve is determined to work on his cardio and fitness. He reluctantly goes to the gym, feeling intimidated but ready to spit fire at anyone who so much as looks at him twice. He is going to get a good workout, damnit. Ignore the clunkheads. Ignore the gym rats. Ignore the super hot guy with long hair and stormy eyes who always seems to be using the equipment near Steve. That wasn't so bad! Now we can shower and go home. Wait, hot guy is also in the shower and… he's singing. WAIT hot guy just exited the shower and now he knows that I know he was singing!.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271468

Title: asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai Creator: beemotionpicture Medium: fic Rating: gen Wordcount: 6,657 Prompt #: 9 Warnings: none Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things.

As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha!and then fuck,before he’s losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway.

He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone.

Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood.

And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

How Steve finds an injured Bucky, nurses him back to health, and takes down a HYDRA agent while he’s at it. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33272239

Title: Highway Ghost Creator: Neonbat Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 15820 Prompt #: 31 Warnings: Usual WS Bucky warnings Summary: Steve hated long drives, it was too easy to zone out, especially when you’re full of cook-out food and good times. Having someone fall out of nowhere right in front of his car wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider a possibility. He had enough excitement already from his job as an ER Nurse. Except, where most people would have been laid out on the asphalt, the man dressed in black got up without a scratch and insisted medical care wasn’t needed. The fuck was his life? Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33283738

Title: He "Accidently" Picked A Hot Roommate Creator: rufferto Medium: digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33279370

Title: special delivery Creator: @glim / glim Medium: fic Rating: Teen + Wordcount: ~6,000 words Prompt #: 30 Warnings: n/a Summary: Written for shrinkyclinksfest, Prompt #30: Steve Rogers has always been prone to sickness, but summer colds are the absolute worst. What he wants is a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ice cream. What he gets is a food delivery guy who’s so built and hot Steve chokes on his tongue. That’s why he keeps ordering long after he’s recovered and how he finally gets Bucky Barnes into his apartment and his bed. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33343828

Title: When the Pool Closes Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1858 Prompt #: 36 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve just wants to enjoy a day out in the sun by himself. That’s not too much to ask. Except it is, apparently. With such fair skin, sunscreen is a must, and there’s no way he can reach his entire back. He’s just going to have to find someone to help him apply it, and if the guy is ripped… Well, it’s not Steve’s fault that he’s got good taste. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33341596

Title: To the Future and the Past Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1465 Prompt #: 40 Warnings: Major character death Summary: Maybe a funeral isn’t the right time to admit to a gay love story, but Bucky doesn’t care. That’s what Steve wanted, and Bucky’s never been able to say no to the love of his life. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33358726

Title: A Shot Across The Bow Creator: Author: Becassine Artist: Call_me_kayyyyy Art Rating: G Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 18382 Prompt #: 52 Warnings: Blood/Injury, Implied/Reference Abuse, Reference Slave Trade Summary: Bucky Barnes is a Pirate Captain, and one accustomed to getting his own way. When fate drops Steve Rogers in his path one lonely evening in Tortuga, his life is forever turned upside down. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33265450/chapters/82597747

Title: Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Creator: Girl_Back_There Medium: Fic Rating: Mature Wordcount: 6214 Prompt #: 45 Warnings: Some Homophobic Language, Instances of Sexual Harassment against women Summary:Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer. Link to work:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339220

Title: The Way To A Man’s Heart Creator: Author: HaniTrash Artist: Kocuria_visuals Art Rating: T Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 11852 Prompt #: 53 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers, skinny Brooklynite, is a college student who makes old recipes and posts videos of them on tiktok. When Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier and Avenger, sees one, he's instantly hooked and becomes Steve's biggest fan. What follows next is a story of food, flirting, and a very unlikely pairing. But much like Steve’s unusual recipes, what shouldn’t work often does… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33312223/chapters/82722664#workskin

Title: Maybe A Muse Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): fic Rating: M Wordcount: 2871 Prompt #: 28 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393928

Title: Be My Breath Creator: Goosenik and clarkestetler Medium: Fic Rating: Teen and Up Wordcount: 44,575 Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2021 prompt: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate.

Basically: Bucky moves in with Steve after he escapes from Hydra, and Steve begins the long process of helping Bucky remember how to be human again. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33275848/chapters/82626394

Title: Tap-Tap Into Your Heart Creator: huntress79 Medium: Fic Rating: T Wordcount: 5k Prompt #: 6 Warnings: none, except for one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mention of animal death Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33416524

Title: I'd be selfish but never with you Creator: Lacunalady on Ao3 Medium: Fic Rating: E Wordcount: 20k Prompt #: 32 Warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Prompted with: "Arranged marriage AU. Steve is a prince and Bucky is a newly crowned king of the neighboring country having conquered/overtaken the last ruler. In order to keep the peace between their countries, Steve's father decides for them to wed. Steve is reluctant for several reasons but mainly because he wants to marry for love and the fact that Bucky has a reputation for being exceedingly ruthless in battle (aka the winter solider)" by Bangyababy on Tumblr! Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33424936

Title: Just Peachy Creator: Erosanderis Fic Rating: N/A Wordcount : 1266 Prompt #: 34 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers was not looking forward to meeting his soulmate. Ever since the day he was born, he had the worst possible words on his forearm. So of course he would meet them at work. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33412060

Title: Knocking Boots with Sugar Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 4095 Prompt #: 29 Warnings: N/A Summary: In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33499603

#shrinkyclinks fest 2021 #masterpost 2021 #shrinkyclinks #stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanart

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

Text

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.”

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence.

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around.

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag.

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications.

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes.

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to.

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed.

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places.

I could feel the eyes on me.

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything.

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect.

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me.

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it.

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.” I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth.

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want.

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem.

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions.

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip.

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted.

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink.

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air.

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt.

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd.

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding.

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass.

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.”

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.”

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd.

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.”

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.”

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood.

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes.

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.”

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed.

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.”

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.”

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away.

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people.

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles.

Though, it’s not my blood.

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet.

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.”

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away.

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me.

But she shoved me first.

It is, legally, self-defense.

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning.

It’s tense.

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why.

Spencer’s here.

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl.

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is.

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place.

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break.

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks.

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed.

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft.

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.”

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.”

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.” I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue.

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me.

He stands.

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment.

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck.

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me.

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face.

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door.

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway.

“Hey!”

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files.

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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noona-clock · 4 years ago

Text

What’s Your Sign?: Sagittarius

Genre: Celebrity!AU

Pairing: Choi Minho x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,534

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Ever since you’d seen him in his first ever role on a television series about five years ago, you’d fallen in love with Minho.

Choi Minho, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Through a screen, at least. You hadn’t yet been lucky enough to see him in person.

And since you’d fallen in love with him after watching his very first episode of that television series, you’d done nothing but support him for the last several years.

You saw every one of his movies the day it released in theatres. You watched every single episode of every single television show he appeared in -- even if he was just a guest star.

His popularity from his first role had soared pretty quickly, which was really a win/win scenario. Minho, who presumably had been a struggling actor previously, was now flush with offers from directors. And you, an immediate superfan, got to spend a lot of virtual time with your new favorite actor -- because, not only did he act in a very large handful of projects every year, he was also interviewed on talk shows, featured in magazines, walking the red carpet of premieres and award shows. He didn’t have a social media presence for some extremely odd reason, but you still felt like you knew him.

From everything you’d seen and read about him, Minho was outgoing, friendly, and charismatic. He was confident, straight-forward, and optimistic. He basically always had some version of a smile on his lips, and based on many posts in the Choi Minho subreddit, he never turned down an opportunity to meet a fan out in public.

He... was basically perfect.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about one day meeting him, falling in love, getting married, and having about ten children together in the most beautiful house in the universe.

But, to be fair, your daydream wasn’t entirely impossible!

You were a bit of a celebrity, yourself!

Kind of.

On the Internet.

You had started a YouTube Channel six years ago, and at first, you hadn’t really had a clear vision for your videos. An absolutely rookie mistake, of course, but there’s nothing you could do about it now.

You’d started off with makeup tutorials because that had been the hottest YouTube trend at the time. But... you quickly discovered you weren’t as good at makeup as one should be to post a tutorial online in good conscience. You also weren’t quite good enough at doing your nails, cooking, or sewing to do videos about those.

For at least a few months, you’d been stumped. You knew you wanted your own YouTube channel -- you had a pretty fitting personality for it -- you just didn’t have any one marketable skill.

Until, one day, you stumbled upon a video of a guy watching a K-Pop music video for the first time and reacting to it. That was literally it. The whole video had been just him watching and talking about it.

And you were very good at that. You loved watching things on a screen -- YouTube videos, television shows, movies, you name it! And you always had thoughts running through your head while you watched something. In fact, you frequently wished one of your friends had exactly the same taste in music, shows, and movies as you so you could voice those thoughts aloud to someone who actually wanted to listen.

So, how had you never thought of doing that on your YouTube channel?! There was obviously a market for it -- the guy you’d watched had a few hundred thousand subscribers, and since it was something you genuinely enjoyed doing, you weren’t afraid of running out of content inspiration or motivation any time soon.

It was literally the perfect idea.

The next day, you had set up your camera, pulled up the first episode of your favorite television show of all time, and got to work. When you posted the video a few hours later (Re-watching my FAVORITE show of all time), something about it just felt right. Like the stars had aligned. No matter if you got five views or five thousand, you knew you were on the right path -- when it came to YouTube, at least.

Every day after that, you chose something else to watch -- a nostalgic movie, a viral YouTube video, the really cheesy musical episode of a television show. You tried to pick things from all along the spectrum, and you also tried to wait a few days in-between continuing on with your re-watch of your favorite show, simply for variety’s sake.

Little by little, your channel began to grow. After work, you would film, edit, and post -- every single day. On the weekends, you would film two different videos in case you ever needed to take a day off. Or in case you just felt like posting two videos!

Your first sponsorship offer email had come about six months after you’d posted your first video, and your eyes had nearly fell out of your head when you’d seen how much they’d offered you. (Looking back, your first paying YouTube gig really hadn’t been that much money -- compared to what you could make now, at least -- but it had still been incredibly thrilling.) And, really, that had been the catalyst of your YouTube career and popularity. It seemed just the one sponsorship had been all you’d needed to catch the attention of other brands who wanted to work with you, and when you got to the point where you could actually afford to quit your job and turn down sponsorship offers you weren’t wild about? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

Okay, but really, you knew you’d made it when one of your videos hit one million views for the first time (a video of you watching a particularly cringe-worthy teen movie from about ten years ago).

And now, six years later, you had almost four million subscribers, and your most viewed video had almost twenty million views. Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe it!

The highlight of your time on YouTube so far -- at least, in your eyes -- had been when you’d seen Choi Minho for the first time about a year after starting your channel. You’d still had less then one-hundred thousand subscribers back then, so if anyone ever left on a comment on a video mentioning how long you’d been a Minho fangirl or remembering when you first discovered him, you knew they were an OG subscriber. But ever since that video, you did absolutely nothing to hide your affinity for him, both as an actor and as a person. You watched and reacted to every single one of his movies and every single television show episode -- you even sometimes reacted to interviews or videos other fans had made about him.

Even when your channel hit some pretty big milestones -- five-hundred thousand subscribers, one million, two million, three million subscribers -- you never played it cool when it came to Choi Minho. You switched up your content and your editing style here and there, but one constant on your YouTube channel was the fact you let your inner fangirl shine for all the world to see.

In fact, just last month, the trailer for his new movie dropped, and you were able to upload your reaction to it within two hours. Since then, you’d read and watched every interview you could find, favorited every tweet about the upcoming film, and liked every post on the #ChoiMinho hashtag on Instagram. Since he had no social media, you had to be satisfied with other people’s content rather than his own.

You were scrolling through his hashtag on Instagram right now, actually, as you procrastinated getting out of bed to go set up for another day of filming.

Now that you had almost four million subscribers and were approached by more than several companies for sponsorships every single day, you were able to focus on your channel full-time. You definitely got cabin fever from time to time, but it was worlds better than filming after work and on weekends. Now, you could actually take a day off whenever you wanted! It was glorious!

But you still procrastinated working. You were still human, after all.

After you caught up on his hashtag and liked just about every picture you could, you navigated to your inbox to look through your DMs. Over the years, it had gotten pretty easy to skip past the spam and sugar daddy requests (which were plentiful, unfortunately), so you no longer dreaded checking the unread messages. You could usually tell which ones to delete straight away from the profile picture and first few words alone.

To be quite honest, you really only opened ones where you either could tell someone was genuinely reaching out to say hi or thank you for posting your videos or... messages with Minho’s name visible in the preview. Shameless, but oh well!

After deleting a few messages at the top which were clearly spam, the next one you came to was actually one of those messages -- you saw ‘Minho’ in the preview. It was the very first word, even! And in all caps.

You pressed on it as quickly as you could.

And when your eyes took in the rest of the message... your heart stopped.

MINHO WATCHED ONE OF YOUR VIDEOS!

...This had to be a prank, right?

But right after the message in all capital letters was a link to a YouTube video, and the preview for the video was right below the message.

It was one of those videos put out by a big fashion magazine where celebrities watch videos about them and react to it. Usually, musicians and singers would react to covers of their songs by fans, but every once in a while, actors would read tweets or watch fanmade videos about them.

And when you clicked on the link this person had sent, the video opened in your YouTube app to show the title “Choi Minho Watches Fan Videos on YouTube,” and your eyes widened.

If what the Instagram message said was true... Minho had watched not only a fan video... but your fan video. And since his movie was premiering in just a couple of days, he had most likely watched your reaction to the trailer.

Oh my god.

Since the video had started automatically after clicking the link, you took a deep breath and concentrated all of your focus on your phone screen. You were not going to miss the part where he watched your video.

But, of course, after not even thirty seconds, you found you had already gotten distracted by how handsome he looked.

You quickly shook your head a bit, widening your eyes briefly before narrowing them to focus on your screen again. “Come on, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself. “You can watch it again right after this to admire him.”

It was only a fifteen-minute video, so it’s not like you had to wait forever to get to the part where he watched you!

Still, though, as the minutes ticked by, you felt your heart begin to race in anticipation.

What would he say about you? Would he find your obsession with him creepy? I mean, it had to be a little creepy watching someone squeal and profess their love for you -- someone you’d never met!

But, then... when you got really mushy comments... most of the time, it didn’t feel creepy. It just felt sweet, and you were incredibly grateful that a lot of your subscribers and viewers were so supportive.

Ugh! You were getting off track again!

You shook your head once more and set your gaze back onto your phone screen.

Finally, when the clip of Minho watching a fanmade music video transitioned into the clip of him watching your video, your breath caught in your throat.

Were you going to survive this?

Outcome is unclear.

“Oh, yeah, I know her,” Minho said as your trailer reaction video began to play in the corner. “She’s the reaction girl, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

................Excuse me?!

Minho knew you?!

As you watched Minho watching you with the most adorable soft grin on his lips, your hand slowly crept up to cover your mouth in shock.

And, then, when you in the video paused the trailer to bring up another one of his movies that this trailer had reminded you of, his grin widened and he looked very pleased. “She knows her stuff, huh?”

You heard someone behind the camera murmuring something, and subtitles appeared on the screen. “She’s a known superfan, actually.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he leaned toward the camera. “She’s what?”

“A superfan,” the person repeated, a little bit louder. “She’s known to her viewers for watching all of your movies and shows. There are always comments about you on all of her videos.”

Minho’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really? All of them? Comments about me?” He leaned back and nodded slowly after, apparently, receiving a positive answer. “I had no idea. I’ve just seen her videos about, like, the cheesy teen movies we watched as kids.”

You truly almost dropped your phone.

So... he knew who you were, but he hadn’t known that you fangirled over him on a regular basis?

First of all, how was that possible?

Second of all, did it really matter?! He knew who you were!

He knew who you were!

You didn’t expect that he regularly watched your videos, but still.

HE KNEW WHO YOU WERE!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you watched him finish up watching your reaction video. The look on his face was one of delight, and even though you knew he was a good actor, it sure didn’t seem like he was simply pretending not to be creeped out.

“She’s so fun,” he smiled as your video ended, his gaze shifting back to the person he had spoken with earlier. “She has more? Like, for my movies?”

The person mumbled something back, and this time, there were no subtitles on the bottom of the video. But Minho’s eyebrows shot up immediately.

“All of my movies?” he asked. And then he let out a joyous chuckle and added, “No way.”

He quickly turned to the computer and clicked on your channel name.

But the video transitioned into another clip of someone else’s video, so you didn’t get to see if he actually watched any other ones.

Even if he hadn’t, you were still overjoyed -- to say the least -- that he had watched just one!

He knew who you were! He had actually known who you were before this which was probably the most surprising thing you’d ever heard in your entire life. (Besides the fact that Minho was currently single. That was definitely more surprising than anything.)

After sitting in your bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at your screen as the video finished up, your gaze unfocused and blurry, you finally came to when you realized the video had ended.

And then you proceeded to freak out.

You squealed and shrieked and kicked your legs and rolled around and scrambled to your feet to jump up and down on your bed with glee.

Was this the best day of your life?

Quite possibly!

Once you’d calmed down just a tad, you plopped back into a sitting position, crossing your legs into a pretzel as you navigated back to Instagram.

You sent a reply to the person who’d sent you the video (”OH MY GOD THANK YOU HE KNOWS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) and then refreshed your inbox.

As expected, a whole new slew of messages came through and literally every single one seemed to be about the video.

Your lips split into a huge grin, and just before you clicked on a random one to read and reply to it... you noticed that one message had a blue check by the sender.

Pausing, you shifted your gaze to that message.

And your heart jumped up into your throat when you recognized the name of the account.

Obviously, it wasn’t Minho himself because he didn’t have one.

But it was the next best thing.

His management company.

You followed them, of course, and liked every single picture about him or with him. Of course!

But you had never gathered up the courage to message them. You’d had no reason to! What would you have said?

And now they were messaging you.

The several days following the video of Minho watching your video had been... a blur. To say the least.

You still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

I mean, you knew you were here because Minho’s management company had direct messaged you on Instagram inviting you to the premiere of his movie and you had accepted without one millisecond of hesitation and then you’d gotten on a plane a couple of days later and then checked into a super nice hotel and had a stylist and makeup artist sent to your room and after many hours you now looked better than you ever had in your entire life.

That’s how you got here.

But you still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

A rather large stroke of luck?

Good karma?

Hard work to grow your YouTube channel into something that would make you more easily recognizable by actual celebrities and their management companies?

Or a combination of the three?

Either way, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, and you knew you would never be able to forget this experience -- even if you, for some odd reason, wanted to.

I mean, you were currently in a really nice car, and the driver (yes, you had a driver!) was taking you to the red carpet.

The red carpet!

An actual movie premiere! With an actual red carpet!

And the movie was Minho’s movie.

You were at the premiere of Minho’s movie.

Oh my god, what if you saw him?!

As the car rolled to a stop in front of a crowded theatre, your heart and stomach dropped down to your very expensive and gorgeous shoes.

You’d gone to somewhat fancy events before -- it came with the job of being a YouTuber -- but never anything like this. Never an actual movie premiere. Never the chance of seeing your favorite actor in the history of time. And, obviously, never walking a red carpet.

Your door magically opened just as the car stopped moving, and a hand popped out of nowhere to assist you in exiting the vehicle. As gracefully as you could, you slipped your fingers into the mysterious palm, allowing it to gently pull you up and out of your seat and onto the sidewalk.

Almost immediately, camera clicks, light bulb flashes, and inquiring voices filled the air.

Cameras and lights in your face, you were used to. It was your everyday life, in fact!

But... all these people? Looking at you? Watching you? Taking pictures of you?

I mean, yeah, a few million people watched your videos. But it was absolutely not the same as a hundred or so reporters and photographers standing right in front of you.

Thankfully, some short but very powerful woman guided you onto the red carpet, muttering to you that all you had to do was stand in front of the backdrop, pose and smile for the cameras, and then move on to the next mark. Some reporters from news and entertainment channels would be waiting along the way to interview you (which didn’t scare you quite so much as you’d been interviewed a few times before), and all in all, it would take about an hour.

But it took you way less than an hour to discover that walking a red carpet is not as glamorous as it looks on television.

Walking like your shoes were covered in almost-frozen molasses so every photo taken was a good one. Switching back and forth between facial expressions so every photo taken wasn’t the same one. And do you know how many good places there are to put your hands when posing for a picture? Exactly two. One was on your hip and the other at your side. That was it. Definitely not clasped in front of or behind you, and definitely not tucking your hair behind your ear.

And just when you were sort of getting used to the constant posing for pictures, another short but powerful woman gently grabbed your arms and led you to a reporter from the most-watched entertainment news channel in the country.

“Hello, hello!” the perky reporter chirped as you approached her. “Come on over here!”

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you made your way to the small mark on the ground next to her, holding up your skirt with one hand so you wouldn’t trip.

“Y/N! Good evening, good evening, how are you doing?” she asked before sticking the microphone in your face.

You had to quickly get over the shock of her knowing your name since you didn’t want to look like a fool on live television, so you forced a grin on your lips and answered, “I’m pretty overwhelmed, actually!” you chuckled.

“Is this your first time at a red carpet?”

“It is, yes,” you confirmed with a slight nod. “And I’m so used to being alone in my house, talking to myself in front of a camera, so this is all new territory for me.”

The reporter laughed with delight before asking which designer you were wearing. You answered her with ease since your stylist had drilled it into your brain before you’d left the hotel.

Then, after she asked you to tell the folks at home what you’re known for, she said, “It’s a pretty fun story of how you got here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is,” you answered, your lips pulling into a shy but excited grin. “I woke up one morning to a message on Instagram, and someone had sent me --”

The reporter interrupted you then, and you noticed her gaze was directed over your shoulder. You turned to look, and --

Well, the next few moments happened so quickly, you really had no idea how you reacted.

“Y/N!” Minho called out, smiling widely and waving before reaching out and sliding his hands over your shoulders. He stood next to you, squeezing you once before letting his arms drop down to his side. “I’m so sorry for interrupting --”

“No, we were just talking about why she’s here at your premiere!”

Minho’s smile brightened even more, and he continued on with the story you’d been telling.

Meanwhile, you were standing there. Mute. Staring at him.

Because oh my god.

How was it actually possible that Minho was more handsome in real life?

But also, how was it actually possible that Minho was standing next to you in real life?

But also also, how was it actually possible that Minho was real?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

You came to when you heard him say, “Yes, this is our first time meeting,” before turning to you and holding out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You took his hand, shaking it weakly, and said the first thing that came to your mind: “Oh my god, hi.”

The reporter giggled, but Minho, instead of acting embarrassed for you, simply let go of your hand and moved to pull you into a hug.

Holy cannoli, Minho was hugging you.

Choi Minho. Was hugging. You.

Hugging!

You!

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” he repeated with a grin after pulling away, though he was still incredibly close to you and gazing at you with those sparkling, dreamy eyes of his.

“You, too,” you managed to reply shakily.

The reporter then went on to interview Minho, asking him who had designed his suit, what his character in this new movie was like, and if he was working on any new projects.

“I’m in the early stages of something, yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I can say too much more, but in the meantime, I think I’d really like to film some videos with Y/N, branch out onto social media.”

Your heart stopped, and you knew your facial expression was doing nothing to hide your surprise.

Minho then turned to you with an adorably guilty look on his face. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, absolutely!” you burst out immediately, and the reporter giggled once again.

“Well, there you have it, guys,” she said after turning to face the camera. “You heard it here first -- a brand new collaboration in the works, so keep an eye out.”

She turned to you then and asked you to remind the viewers of the name of your YouTube channel. You leaned into the microphone and silently praised the lord you were able to remember it.

“Thanks so much, you two,” the reporter said with a very peppy grin. “Have a wonderful evening!”

“You, as well,” Minho answered before putting a hand in-between your shoulder blades and guiding you back to the red carpet.

Wait, he was guiding you back to the red carpet? He wasn’t... leaving?

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, his breath causing the most delicious tingle down your spine. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to meet you --”

“No,” you shook your head slightly. “It’s -- it’s totally fine. It wasn’t rude at all. I’m -- I just -- I’m a little overwhelmed. In a good way!”

“Totally understand. I remember my first movie premiere like it was yesterday, I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

You simply let out a nervous chuckle, but then Minho did something to make you even more nervous (which you hadn’t even been sure was possible).

He bent his arm and held out the crook of his elbow toward you.

“Shall we?”

Okay, you were now convinced this was a dream. This was all a wonderful, perfect, heavenly dream.

There was just no way that any of this could happen in real life! Being invited to Minho’s movie premiere was one thing, but him interrupting your interview on the red carpet and mentioning he wanted to film a YouTube video with you? Him offering to actually walk the red carpet with you on his arm?!

Nope. Definitely not real.

So, since this was absolutely a dream, you figured you’d just go with it!

“We shall,” you replied as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You slid your hand into the crook of Minho’s elbow, and the two of you slowly made your way down the red carpet. Together.

It didn’t take long for you to be awed by his professionalism. When the cameras began to flash, he posed like a natural. It seemed so easy for him, but you figured it probably was easy after going through this so many times.

He murmured helpful hints and reassuring words to you as you struggled through, and he even insisted on doing his interviews with you by his side.

(Of course, before the two of you approached each reporter, he asked you quietly if you would rather have the spotlight all to yourself. He didn’t want to usurp your first experience on the red carpet and would gladly step away so you could finish the process on your own. You declined every single time.)

When you finally reached the entrance to the theatre about an hour later, you figured Minho would say it had been nice to meet you and be on his way.

But you should’ve remembered that this was a dream!

“Do you want to come inside? We can sit together during the movie if you want. I mean, you’re pretty much my unofficial date already, but you can absolutely say ‘no’ if you don’t --”

“I would love to,” you interrupted, your voice more sure and firm than it had been all evening.

But hearing your favorite actor and biggest crush of all time declare that you were his date for the night would do that to you. Plus, Minho literally exuded confidence and warmth -- you’d always thought so while watching him on a screen, and it was both relieving and exciting to learn he was exactly the same in real life.

Minho smiled at you and then led you into the theatre, your heart now basically in a constant state of flips and somersaults.

Once the two of you took your seats in front of the screen, Minho turned slightly toward you.

“I have to admit, I’ve been watching your videos a lot since I filmed the reaction for the magazine,” he said with the most attractive half-smile you’d ever seen in your life. “Seriously, thank you so much for being so supportive.”

“Oh my god, no, thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe you watched my videos.”

“They’re kind of addicting,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely understand why you have so many subscribers. I actually created my own YouTube account just so I could subscribe to you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart actually stopped somersaulting because it stopped beating altogether.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

“You’re so entertaining! It feels like watching those movies and shows with a friend. And I like how you’re really honest but still nice about it. You don’t seem to have a cruel bone in your body.”

“Uh, no, I think you’re getting me mixed up with yourself,” you replied with a somewhat awkward laugh.

Minho simply grinned at you, and the somersaults started back up inside your chest.

“I was serious about wanting to film with you, though,” he said, eyebrows raised earnestly. “I would love to collab --”

“Yes, absolutely,” you reassured him as fervently as you could. “Literally whenever. Please. Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Minho chuckled before reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. “Here, give me your number so I can let you know when I’m free next.”

You hesitated before accepting his phone because...

What?!

Minho was giving you his phone. His actual phone. So you could put in your number? Your number?

This night just kept getting more and more unbelievable.

But you were never in a million years going to pass up the opportunity to give Choi Minho your phone number, so you took his phone and quickly added yourself as a contact.

“Perfect,” Minho murmured, almost to himself, when you handed his phone back to him. He looked at the screen for a few moments, and you noticed a soft grin pulling at his lips. And then he shifted his gaze over to you and said, “I can’t wait.”

And... as your eyes locked on his...

You had a moment.

A moment.

One of those moments you will never, ever forget as long as you lived.

One of those moments where your future basically flashed before your eyes.

Minho arriving at your house to film a video with you, a friendship forming, late night texts and phone conversations, going out to restaurants whenever he was in town... a more than friendship forming.

And you truly could’ve sworn this was not just your heart wishing, but... you honestly felt like you were going to marry this man.

“I can’t either,” you replied softly just before the lights went down.

The first thing you did when you got home was set up your camera and film a video relaying everything about your experience at Minho’s movie premiere.

Of course, you didn’t mention The Moment -- y’know, the moment you had when you realized you were most probably going to marry him? And you could just feel that it wasn’t wishful thinking? You figured it was probably best to keep that to yourself for now.

But everything else you shared with your subscribers, and you did nothing to hide how wonderful and magical it had all been -- and it had really been Minho which had made it so perfect.

“And you guys, he is truly exactly the same in person as he seems in, like, interviews and stuff. He’s so nice and so friendly and so warm and so gracious and --”

But you were interrupted by a text message.

Most of the time, you left your phone on silent as you filmed, but you’d been too excited to get all of your thoughts out that you’d forgotten to switch the sound off before turning the camera on.

“Whoops,” you murmured as you reached for your phone on your desk in front of you.

Instead of simply turning your phone on silent, though, the actual text message you’d received caught your eye and was too intriguing to ignore.

It was from a number you didn’t have saved, but your instinct to read the first few words of a message from an unknown sender took over... and you were incredibly glad it did.

Because the message was:

Hey, it’s Minho 😁 Are you free next week?

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

#kwritersworldnet #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho au #minho fluff #minho fanfic #shinee scenarios #shinee imagines #shinee au #shinee fluff #shinee fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #choi minho #shinee

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years ago

Text

Fallout of the century 🌑💔

Part 2 🥜

Read part 1 here 🥜

Masterlist

word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst & Fighting

My alarm was blaring way too early since it was Saturday. I reached over and clicked it off. “Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled onto my stomach.

“What are you groaning about?” Harrison opened my door and came and hopped onto the bed next to me.

“My life,” I mumbled, not moving my face from where it was buried in the bed.

“Oh come on, it's not that bad,” He said, urging me to cheer up.

“I told Harry we should date other people last night,” I said as I pushed myself up onto my knees. “It's been six months, we should both try and move on. But I can't help but think that if he goes and starts dating, that he’ll be gone forever,” I sighed. this was giving me a headache.

“Do you want to be with him?” He asked.

“I want to be with my Harry, but he's not my Harry anymore. So no, I don't think so,” I said, confusing even myself. I sat there staring at the wall, waiting for some sort of emotion to surface, but I just felt numb again. “I think my mind is broken Harrison,” I sighed, throwing myself down onto the bed.

“Then let's go and do something you'll enjoy, try and fix that pretty little mind of yours,” he sounded hopeful that i would agree, and i didn’t have any prior plans, so why not.

“Like what?” I asked curiously.

----------

The pins smashed down, with the loud noise. “And another strike!” I exclaimed running back to Harrison and Tom.

“Girls got game, gotta admit it,” Tom said laughing, as Harrison went up to bowl his turn.

“So, Harry talked to me,” Tom started. I looked at him unsure of what he was talking about. “You know, i never knew if those memories i had were real, or my mind making things up in a drunken haze,” he laughed. He was talking about THAT night. Over five years ago.

“You remember?” I asked, shocked that he hadn't said anything before.

“I don't think anyone could forget a night like that,” He chuckled. I reached over and smacked his arm. That night, it had been, well, it had been an experience to say the least.

“Tom! Eww!” I laughed.

“No but seriously, why did you never say anything?” He asked me. I watched Harrison throw the ball, going straight in the gutter again and I shrugged.

“Why didn't you?” I asked.

“Fair enough,” He said as Harrison walked back over to the table. “What's wrong Hazza? Not winning today?” Tom laughed. Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut it Thomas, you're not doing much better,” Tom looked up at the scoreboard and saw that Harrison was in fact right, they were both losing miserably. Tom walked over and took the ball, hitting only a few pins after he threw it. The day was good, easy, not full of expectation and worries.

----------

I climbed into the passenger seat of Harrison’s car as we dropped Tom back at his place. “So,” Harrison began. “Home? Or do you want to go on an adventure?”

“What kind of adventure?” I asked, looking over to see a smirk on his face. It was a look I was far too familiar with, a devilish look. “Oh no,” I muttered to myself as we pulled away from the driveway and started driving in the opposite direction of home.

We pulled up in front of a hanger with a giant ‘Skydiving’ painted on the side. I laughed as he parked the car. “No, no freaking way am I jumping out of a goddamn plane Harrison Osterfeild” I told him it was completely serious.

“What are the odds,” He smirked at me.

“Fine, 1-100,” I said.

He nodded at me and we both spoke at the same time. “77”

“Your fucking kidding me Harrison, how did you even know that?” I demanded. He laughed as he got out of the car and walked over to my door, opening it.

“It's your favorite number,” He said, smiling his cocky smile at me. I shook my head questioning what I had gotten myself into.

We walked into the place and paid for the life threatening task and then sat through an hour educational video and then were walked through the equipment. We walked over to the area with the suits and were instructed to put them on.

“I swear to god, Harrison. If I die, I'll haunt you,” I shot him a death glare.

“You're not going to die,” He laughed. “Hey excuse me, can you take our picture?” Harrison asked a person walking by, who quickly obliged his request. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him, a giant goofy smile spread across his face, I smiled as the phone flashed and the guy brought the phone back to Harrison. He showed me his phone screen. The picture was cute. I can't lie, but I felt a twinge of guilt with how much we looked like a couple, instead of the friends we were. I tried to push the thoughts out of my head, and try to enjoy this crazy ‘Adventure’.

We got into the harnesses and strapped to the instructors and onto the plane. The plane ride was bumpy and loud, and when it was time to jump, Harrison insisted I go first. I planned on arguing, but the instructor gave me no time before jumping out of the plane.

I expected to feel like i was plummeting to the ground, but it wasn't like that at all, i felt like i was hovering, staring down at the earth from far above. The wind and air smacked me making my hair fly all around and my mouth open unattractively. We fell for only about 45 seconds before the instructor pulled the chute. We glided down to the designated landing area, and once our feet touched the ground the instructor helped undo the harness. I looked around once the harness was off and found Harrison, whose hair was even crazier than mine. I ran over to him and surprised myself when I practically jumped into his arms. I felt alive for the first time in months. I pulled my face back a bit and found him and smashed my lips into his, kissing him like I had been thinking about it all my life, even though I hadn't. I broke my lips from his as he set my feet back on the ground.

“That was exhilarating!” I announced.

“I can tell,” He laughed. A man walked up beside us and handed us two disks and a Polaroid picture. I wasn't sure what the disks were but when I saw the picture, I was shocked. It was of the kiss we had just shared. If anyone saw that picture it was sure to be a confusing conversation. “Come on,” Harrison said, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the hanger to return the suit.

For the first time in a long time, I realized I wasn't dreaming of the past. I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad about that.

The next few weeks were spent like normal. I went to work, I came home, and we ate dinner. I was happier than I was before now though. Things between Harrison and I didn't.. change much, a few stolen glances and smirks every once in a while, but there had been no more kissing. Harry and I hadn't talked, I think we were just trying to give each other space. And I was thankful.

I stood at my dresser putting on a faint bit of makeup for the game tonight, I was not dreading it, I was actually excited, to be back to normal. There was a knock on my door and Harrison opened it and smiled at me, probably thankful to see me in something other than lazy clothes. I had put on a pair of cute jeans, and a cute blouse.

“What?” I giggled looking at him through his reflection.

“I'm just glad you're back to your normal self, is all. The Hollands should be here soon,” he told me before walking away, leaving my door open. I rolled my eyes as I put on a blush nude shade on my lips.

I walked down the stairs, and into the living room plopping myself down on the chair that was now my spot. There was a knock at the door and then it swung open and all three Holland boys came in, cases of beer in hand. I stood up and hugged Sam and Tom as they went to their seats, Harry stopped in front of me with wide eyes and a partially open mouth. I held my arms out for a hug and he quickly embraced me in his. I felt a surge of electricity shoot through my body as soon as our skin connected. I let him go and he backed away, but not before whispering “You look really good,” In my ear. And from the look on Harrison’s face, I could tell my cheeks had gone a rosy hue showing through the makeup that laid on my skin.

We all got comfortable as Tuwaine pulled out the board game, a thing Harrison was known for doing.

“You guys want to see some pictures and videos of when me and Nutty went skydiving?” Harrison asked, pulling out his phone. My stomach tightened hearing his words.

“You went skydiving?” Harry asked me.

“We did,” Harrison told him, showing him various pictures and videos. Harry's eyes kept switching from Hazzas phone to me, and i wasn't sure if he was hurt, shocked, or both.

“I had a Polaroid from when we landed too, but I'm not sure exactly where that disappeared to,” Harrison lied. It was pinned to the wall in his room next to a bunch of other pictures of all of us hanging out and doing random things.

“That picture is cute,” Harry said dryly, and I knew he was talking about the one we took before the jump. He got up and excused himself to go to the bathroom. I waited a minute before making up an excuse to run up to my bedroom. Once I got there I saw Harry sitting on my bed, waiting for me.

“Harry-” I tried to say but was cut off after he stood up and rushed to me, taking my face in his hands and slamming his lips into mine. There was a distinctive difference between Harry’s and Harrison’s kisses, and that was passion. I found my hands quickly tangled in his curly auburn hair pulling him closer to me, not wanting his lips to leave mine. His hands traveled down my back and to my ass, pushing me into him, with a force I missed. Oh god did I miss this. He grabbed my butt lifting me to him, and my legs went around his waist. He carried me to my bed, throwing me down before attacking my neck with kisses and suckling, surely leaving light purple hickies for everyone to see.

“I don't want to date other people, I only want you,” he whispered. As he returned his lips to mine.

“Harry,” I groaned. He lifted his head and stared into my eyes with his soft warm hazel ones. “I don't want to date other people either, but I'm not ready. For this.” I told him gesturing to what we are currently doing.

“That's fine, as long as you're not sleeping with Haz,” He said. I felt my blood boil.

“What?” I asked, pushing him off.

“I just don't want you sleeping with him,” He said again.

“And so what if I was Harry? Do you own me? Are we even together? I’m free to do what ever the hell i please, and if its fucking Haz then that’s what i’m going to do,” i shouted at him.

“Well is that what you want? To fuck Haz? You want to get back at me for fucking Olivia?” He yelled.

“Maybe I do,” I said quieter.

“Then make sure you do it five times so we can really be even,” He sneered as he stormed out of my room.

“Fuck you Harry Robert Holland,” I yelled after him slamming the door and throwing myself onto my bed. I was shaking i was so mad.

God, I really couldn't catch a break. I pushed myself up and walked to my dresser and looked at my neck, thankful there were no marks to remind me of the things that had just happened. I ripped my shirt off and threw on a plain black hoodie and changed into a pair of sweats. I was not going to let him ruin game night.

I walked down the stairs to find Tom, Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison sitting in silence. “What?” I asked.

“You OK?” Sam asked me first.

“I'm fine, are we going to play or what?” I asked sitting down.

“Are you curious where Harry went?” Tuwaine asked.

“Nope, don’t care,” I said coldly.

“He said he was going to-” Tom started but I cut him off.

“To go sleep with Olivia again, yeah got it. Let's just play the game,” I said, wishing they would drop it.

“Do you actually want to sleep with Harrison?” Sam asked, probably more out of concern for his twin's feelings than pure curiosity.

“If I chose to sleep with Harrison, it would have nothing to do with Harry, I'm not spiteful.” I said grabbing the golden peanut that Harry had gotten me for Christmas for monopoly. “Are we going to play?” I asked. I felt a rush of emotions as my closest friends stared at me waiting for me to break. “Okay, fine.” I said standing up. “I'll just go to bed,” And with that I stormed off to my bedroom.

“Y/N!” Harry yelled as he came into the guest room of Harrison's house. “Please just let me explain?” He begged.

“Explain what? I don't want an explanation. I want you to go back in time and not fucking do it!” I yelled between tears.

“Please? I'll do anything,” he cried.

“You know, I slept with your brother, about a month before we were together, so just know our whole relationship. I was comparing you to him,” I spat. It was a lie, not the sleeping together part but the comparing part.

“No you didn't,” he whispered, hurt spreading across his face.

“It was the night of the Bastille concert,” I said coldly.

“Why wouldn't you tell me?” he demanded. I shrugged my shoulders, not having an answer. He got up and left. I was sure I would see him again. But at that moment I wished I never would.

I was only in my room for 15 minutes before there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” I called out.

“It's me,” Harrison said as he came in, shutting the door behind him. “Tom and Sam left because the three of them rode together so they had to go find Harry. So me and Tuwaine decided to just call it. I nodded at him.

“Sorry about game night,” I muttered. I felt bad, this wasn't the first time me and Harry had ruined game night, just the first time it had come to this extreme.

“No, I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure I instigated it,” He sighed sitting beside me.

“Yeah, what was that about anyway?” I was curious to know what he was thinking.

“When you hugged him, he said something to you. You blushed and I got jealous. I'm not sure why, but I wasn't thinking right,” he was looking down at the floor.

“He told me I looked good, Harrison,” I laughed. He looked up at me with a dopey look on his face.

“That's what made you blush?” he asked. I nodded laughing.

“I didn't mean to shout about sleeping with you. He just accused me of it, and I got so mad,” I groaned, throwing myself back on my bed.

“He accused you of sleeping with me?” He asked.

“More or less. It was more like ‘I don't want you sleeping with him’ like he just figured that's what I was doing, to get back at him. Cause we all know that's the kind of person I am,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“So you're saying you wouldn't?” he asked quietly. I was not liking the direction this conversation was going in.

“Wouldn't what?” I asked, knowing full well what he was asking.

“Sleep with me?” I could almost hear pain in his voice.

“Not to spite Harry.” I told him. Biting my cheek. Great another thing I picked up from harry.

“But you would, if the time was right?” He asked me. I sat myself up so I could look at him.

“Harrison, if the time was right, and things felt right, and we both wanted too. Yes I would probably sleep with you,” I told him, as a sliver of hope sparkling in his eyes.

“How will I know if the time is right?” he wondered.

“Um instinct? I don't know.” I laughed. He put his hand on my thigh, leaving it gently touching me. Was this the moment? Was I supposed to decide if I was ready to move on or go after Harry right now? I looked up at harrisons sweet face, with his gorgeous blue eyes and perfect blonde waves. “I don't know what to do Haz,” I whispered. He reached up stroking my face.

“What feels right?” he asked.

I thought about it. What felt right? Did Harry feel right, or was he just safe. We had gotten into such a routine, that there was no wonder with us. The sex was phenomenal, but everyday life was the same day in and day out. Sitting here right now, with Harrison, felt dangerous and scary, but not in a bad way. When we had gone skydiving, that was an out of the normal thing, and it felt invigorating. Maybe all I needed was a lack of routine. Who knows maybe Tuwaine had been right and me and Harry had just been a time filler for what was to come. Maybe I was supposed to love Harry and deal with the fallout of our relationship to teach me a lesson. Maybe I'd sleep with Harrison and wake up a new person, or maybe I'd do it and regret it. It was a whole lot of maybe.

“Honestly, everything feels wrong. The only thing that has felt right in so long was when we went out bowling and then skydiving,” I told him.

“Do you need a little bit of adventure?” He asked.

“Maybe I do,” I chuckled.

“Pack a bag, with warm clothes. And a swimsuit.” He told me as he stood up and pulled out his phone.

“What, why?” I asked, unsure of where he could possibly want to take me.

“Let's go to Hawaii. Have our own little adventure. Get you out of this god forsaken funk.” He told me, placing a kiss on my forehead and then leaving the room.

As crazy as the idea was, I did just as he said, I packed a suitcase, with my cutest clothes and packed my swimsuit. This could be an awful idea, to fly to an island with your friend, whom you clearly had some pent up feelings for. Guess we'd find out soon.

I set my bag by my bedroom door and pulled out my phone. I must have had it on silent cause I had three missed calls from Harry and about a dozen texts. I dialed the number for my voicemail and listened.

‘OK i know that that was shitty of me. Fuck. I just don't want to lose you, or see you with him,’

I rolled my eyes as it switched to the next message.

‘I know you don't owe me anything, but please, give me one more chance, to make this work,’

I wanted to give him another chance, I did, but not right now, I needed to do something for me.

‘I love you. I will always love you.’

I hung up the phone and dialed his number.

“Oh thank god, I'm so sorry,” He blurted as soon as he answered.

“I'm going to go away for a few days. I need to think about what I want and what I'm willing to forgive,” I told him.

“Oh,” he said.

“I do love you Harry, but we are not getting anywhere. It's like a game of who can hurt who, and neither of us are winning. So let's just call it quits. Take me out for coffee when I get back and hopefully we can start to sort this mess out,” I didn't wait for his response, because I knew if I did, he would change my mind.

part 3

#harrison osterfield #harry robert holland #harry holland #tom holland

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voltagesmutter · 4 years ago

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Kiro x MC - Uniform

Pairing: Kiro x MC (F).

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice.

Prompt: Master || Lapdance|| Uniform

Warning: Playful sex, slight dirty talk, Kiro just being a horny boi, internal cum-shot.

Surprise post for @alloveroliver kinktober🎃

Thank you @theinariakuma for being wonderful and beta-ing (again) I owe you so much 💛

Loveland’s military holiday was approaching fast and excitement buzzed through the city. A national holiday that was celebrated for all, a day where all appreciation was sent out to the troops and army. And this year, international superstar Kiro was showing his support with a new music video where all profits went to supporting the families who were part of the army.

It was a big day event that required every single team member to be on top form. The video was very hushed, Kiro not wanting to pull any attention away from the day itself during the build up. Filming would take place in one day on a set, Kiro even managing to wrangle his girlfriend, his beloved Miss.Chips, a spot on the promotion poster as a 50’s pin-up doll. Of course she was flattered to the highest point that Kiro had wanted her rather than a real model, Kiro’s exact words ‘They have nothing compared to your beauty Miss.Chips’.

So when they arrived, in separate cars to eliminate any suspicion from the hungry, loitering press, on the morning of the shoot she never expected to be whisked away into hair and make up first thing. Her hair curled into loose waves, her fringe pinned back and held in place by a khaki green, small-side cap. Her lips painted with a bold red and a strong black line on her eyes to accentuate her facial features. A skin tight blouse with short sleeves was tucked into a pleated skirt the same colour of her cap, touching just below her mid-thighs whilst a belt brought in the illusion of her always petite waist. Stockings ran up to the edge of her knees, green heels placed on to her feet. A red cravat nestled beneath the collar of her shirt. A true vision of elegance with a sensual touch.

Kiro found himself utterly distracted as he watched her pose a top of the prop tank that had been made for the shoot. Sitting on it with one knee raised, giving a teasing peak of her skin as the skirt rose up. Her hand in a salute position with a beaming smile on her face. Breathtaking was all he could think.

However she found herself just as distracted by him. A similar style green to the outfit she was wearing clung to him, a button up jacket laced with a gold chain that connected to a sweeping cape, a black buckle belt tightly around his waist. Tight trousers down to his ankle, gold embroidment across the outfit and a lieutenants cap was perfectly placed on his sunshine blonde hair. Power, dominance but most important patriotism radiated from him. Capturing the room as he strided in with a few striking steps. His eyes meeting hers from across the room, the sexual tension between them already pulsing and visible.

She watched from the side as he paraded across the set, a strong sense of dignity and loyalty packed into the words he was singing. Maturity twisted into a new sense of him. One that suited him. Her eyes fixed on him, flushing slightly during in between takes as Kiro would shoot her a lust filled look or a cheeky wink. Looks that sent arousal straight down to her core and left her panties uncomfortably wet.

“You look so beautiful, I can’t believe I pushed to let you do this, this,” A hand ran up her thigh, under her skirt to cup the barely covered round of her ass, “Should be just for me,”. Kiro appeared from behind causing a little gasp to fall from her mouth. He’d snuck off the set to where she stood watching, pressing himself to her back as he whispered lowly in her ear.

“I can assure you, that this only belongs to you sir,” Her voice wavering slightly as he pinched on her cheeks. A low chuckle masking a groan against her neck, the teasing press of her hips back against his groin.

“God your making it so hard to keep sight of what I’m doing,” Pressing kisses to her neck, moving both of his hands to hold her waist. The pair hidden from view in the corner of the room, the rest of the cast and crew too busy in changing the set and prompts. “You know, we have about 7 minutes until I’m needed back on set,”.

She turned, her eyes meeting his blazoned ones, lust and need emitting from both of them.

“Have I told you how much I love a man in uniform?” Pressing her hands to his chest, throwing her head over her shoulder for a quick scan of the room, realising no one was watching them as she slid her hands down to press over the hidden bulge in his trousers. A final check from both of them before they headed off quickly hand in hand down an empty corridor, heading in the direction of the prop room, knowing they would have less chance of being disturbed in there.

Pulling her tightly to him, kick the door shut behind him as their lips locked. Perfectly pressed red lipstick now smearing over his lips as he tilted her head back to angle the kiss. Her hands already resuming position over his crotch- it had been rapidly hardening the minute he saw her in that outfit.

He stood proud watching as she pulled back, just about to drop to her knees, her hands already working to undo his belt. His fingers catching her chin to keep standing, “No, I want, I need to be inside you Miss.Chips,”.

Kiro had no doubt she could bring him to a release with just her mouth in under the time they had, she’d done it it many of times before. His favourite when he was on his tour and had three minutes between stage set swaps, her mouth around his cock as she sucked him to completion with only a few seconds left to spare before he had to run back out to a crowd of fans.

"I normally wouldn't mind... But all I want to do is fuck your pretty face." His voice was low, raspy. "And with only five minutes... They'll notice if I ruin all this hard work for your makeup. So we'll save that for after."

Holding her waist he hoisted up into the air, pressing her back against the wall as her legs automatically locked around his waist.

“You're so wet already Miss.Chips,” His voice huskier than normal as he prodded the wet stained material of her panties, directly beneath her core.

“Kiro… Kiro please,” She whispered, one arm holding onto the back of his neck whilst the other pushed his teasing fingers aside to move her underwear out of the way. “I need you, I need you so badly,”. Her voice was full of desperation, a needing plea as she lost herself into the sky-blue of his eyes.

“Let me just-“ Pressing a finger to her, ready to sink into her but her hand tugged it away.

“Fuck me, Kiro please just fuck me,” Time was hastily running out.

Her words caused something inside him to snap, primal and urgent needs taking over as let out a low growl. Holding her waist still his other hand freed himself, spitting onto his hand as he coaxed himself with a few pumps before pressing against her. Rather than thrusting up, he pulled her down to be impaled onto his cock, a grin on his face to watch her back arch and a hand to cover her mouth shielding the wanton moans that would have flooded the room.

Kiro let a sly smirk cross his features, "So that's what you want? Don't worry Miss Chips, I'll fuck you so good. You won't be able to think straight when we have to get back out there... But don't worry. I'll make sure to reward you once we get home for being such a good girl." He bounced her with his impressive-strength, one that he rarely used showing his utter need, over his cock whilst he thrusted into her. Time working against them, the seconds counting down fast as Kiro pounded her into the wall. His lips attached to her neck whilst his thumb dropped down to circle tightly over her clit in time to his thrusts. The motion bringing on her orgasm fast and hard, with fair little warning as her walls spasmed over him. A lightly string of curses fell from her mouth, jaw slackened as she tossed the hat off his head to ground herself with one hand tugging at his hair.

“Kiro-Kiro! Too much..I-” She whimpered, the hand on the back of his head digging her nails into his scalp whilst the other curled into a fist and slammed the solid wall against her. His movements never ceasing, the thumb over her clit continuing to circle the hyper-senstive flesh.

"I know I'm being greedy, Miss Chips... But I need another...".

"A-another?" Her voice, heavy and thick with pleasure and confusion until his actions answered her. “Oh fuck Kiro!” Head thrown back as Kiro threw her head first into another orgasm, walls tightening and pulling him deeply back into her every time he thrusted. Her efforts to keep quiet failed, Kiro holding a complacent grin to see how undone and unraveled she had become and it was all because of him.

Her release brought on his own as her muscles pulsed over him, his lips crashing down on hers to capture the moans of both of them. An attempt to keep their noise to a minimum, her cries of pleasure would have lured more attention than he’d have liked secretly praying no one, Savin, heard them.

“I got you baby, I got you,” He whispered between kisses, pulling his thumb away from her clit as her after-shocks and trembles eased. Both her hands grasping onto his shoulders, mixed breathes struggling to regain their normality as they stilled in their position. Both of them savouring the blissful feeling of their afterglow for a few seconds before he finally pulled his softened cock out of her. A thick trail of their mixed releases slowly leaked from her abused hole, Kiro moving her underwear in place to try keep it from spreading across her thighs. Although the top of them were purely soaked with messy arousal, the scent of sex dancing across her lower half.

“Good girl Miss.Chips,” Kiro continued to kiss her softly as he put her legs down on the ground, they were still trembling as she continued to cling to him for support. He thumbed under her eyes to wipe the small trail of mascara that collected on her skin from her watery eyes, wiping them over her mouth to remove the smudge of her rouge lips and helped sort out their outfits. He grabbed his hat she had thrown off of him, taking his hand in hers before guiding them to leave the prop room, a low whisper as he told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep all my promises for being such a good girl, I promise I’ll make you scream as soon as we’re finished here.”

Kinktober masterlist here.

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #mlqc kiro #mr love kiro #mr love queen's choice kiro #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc smut #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc zhou qiluo #mr love zhou qiluo

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maria-scribbles · 4 years ago

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loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b.

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach.

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore.

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism.

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way."

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest.

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you."

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'"

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth.

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand.

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand.

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher."

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince.

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?"

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again."

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist.

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight.

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical.

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see.

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-"

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return.

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once."

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch.

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match.

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase.

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold.

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.

"I'm still in love with you."

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face.

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair.

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all."

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me."

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath.

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

let me know what you think! i read each and every one of your comments and cry because they mean so much to me! ❤

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown�� @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @bibliophilewednesday @k-n-e @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @heypearce @sexualparkour (send me an ask if you’d like to be added or removed!)

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #obx netflix #outer banks imagine #jj maybank x you #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron

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writing-fool · 4 years ago

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mlqc | let’s hit rewind

What kind of videos would the MLQC guys make if they were YouTubers? I think this is a youtube!au, but to be fair, Kiro probably has a YouTube channel in canon. See it as you will? I won’t really talk about their life outside of YT/internet so you can decide for yourself whether this is an AU or not, and whether they’re a full-time YouTuber or not.

As always, enjoy, and requests are open!

Love,

Warning(s): none

Victor

Victor probably has a cooking channel

scratch that. he absolutely starts as one of those Aesthetic™ cooking channels like Cooking tree, HANSE, Sweet The MI or Nino’s Home.

his channel is called Souvenir because he’s not THAT original you can’t expect everything from a man, people.

he starts off doing these voiceless cooking videos, but after a voice and face reveal at 2 million followers where he cooks something for his followers as a thanks...well, who wouldn’t want more of that sultry voice and glorious face

currently has about 4 million subscribers

Victor’s channel is kind of comparable to Junskitchen, a rather relaxed, casual atmosphere combined with exquisite, refined cuisine

if he feels like it, he does a voice-over, otherwise he just puts calm jazz, blues or r&b over his cooking

HAS done an ASMR special. low-key dislikes the video because he has to whisper voice-overs but people LOVE it

likes making all kinds of foods, but his channel features quite a lot of sweet foods and desserts because a certain dummy has a sweet tooth

a pretty popular feature during quarantine is Cooking w/ Sou, essentially a live stream where Sou (aka Victor) cooks a whole three-course meal while talking to and instructing his followers

his subscribers notice that he doesn’t really need editing to look clean during cooking because his technique is IMMACULATE

by the end, he’s made a themed dinner for two...which always raises a question mark

is Sou single? does he have a roommate? a girlfriend? a kid? WHAT?

after getting your explicit permission, Victor addresses the situation in one of his recent Q&As

“Why do I always make dinner for two? I have a fiancée, she edits my videos in her spare time. She works as a producer. *you wave your hand over the lens* Dummy.” he breezes over it like it’s no big deal even though he’s a tad nervous about exposing something personal like this

his fans blow up the internet, baffled but not entirely surprised that someone like Sou isn’t a bachelor

of course, some leave hate under the video honestly, people who do this to celebs who start dating are HORRIBLE

most subscribers are super supportive of your relationship and thank you for the editing that makes Souvenir such a well put-together channel...also did he seriously call his fiancée a dummy? such a tsundere!

sometimes, you’ll (well, your hands...we’re keeping a bit of privacy here) even be in the end shot of videos, munching away at the carefully plated food

one day, Sou will be making a video titled Wedding Cake.

Lucien

Lucien’s channel LucidLight is a tad bit all over the place

he’s a man of many talents, and his channel reflects just that

i’m not saying it’s a disorganized channel, because the theme is very much there - the uniform theme in Luci’s content is a cozy background, a cup of tea and a soothing thumbnail

i mean that content-wise, his subscribers don’t really know what they’re going to get next...he has a slightly similar style to the YouTuber simon plant

his content varies from interesting science theories to poetry reading sessions to ASMR to painting/sketching to cooking and much, much more

he has an heavenly soothing, smooth voice. it’s his trademark since Lucien doesn’t show his face on camera. ever.

doesn’t have a TON of subs, because his channel is a bit of a niche thing, but I’d say he has 1,2 million subscribers and 400k followers on his added ‘business’ Instagram

he holds a lot of live streams on Instagram/YouTube (i know Moments exists in the game, but that’s more like a Facebook or Twitter kind of app...) and is always shown with just his torso and neck in frame. the lives usually include some poetry reading and generally just having a nice, relaxing chat with his followers. they can last up to 5 hours at once, and YOU know it’s because he doesn’t need sleep like a normal human being, but his fans are still asking questions about his timezone

his subscribers are strangely fascinated by his mysterious, gentle nature and also incredibly obsessed with his large, elegant hands

his ASMR videos are often roleplays of Librarian Lucien or Professor Lucien explaining to people why their rest is important

other times, they include soft affirmations, positive whispers, finger fluttering, hair touching and maybe kissing sounds...

Lucien paints a lot too, although he works primarily with ink and pencil sketches. you’ll find a watercolour or oil painting somewhere, but they’re not his most prominent media

his art videos are usually silent, although he might say something once in a while. there’s always some type of solo instrumental music playing in the background.

he does educational videos about biology and universe theories, but will also have reading sessions about scientific books

not intentionally secretive about your relationship, but he’s not one to mention it either

the first time you appeared on screen was when he was doing another live stream. he’s in his office talking about a play, when you come padding in to bid him goodnight.

“Yes, indeed. Laura’s glass menagerie, as the play suggests, is a symbol of fragility. Laura herself is very frail, but her favourite—”

“Good night, darling.” your soft voice rings through the room. viewers see Lucien’s torso turning a little bit, a hand on his shoulder and a curtain hair appearing from the top of the screen. his hand moves, presumably to cup the person’s cheek, before a soft kiss is heard through the mic. “Sleep tight, my love,” he murmurs.

“Ah. Laura’s favourite glass figurine is the unicorn, which...”

people are in uproar, but Lucien is a strong-willed man who refuses to explicitly announce the nature of his relationship.

his subscribers stop asking after a while, because it really isn’t any of their business, and they now know Lucien’s a taken man

you kind of appear on live streams accidentally a couple more times, but nothing’s really changed about Lucien’s content

the only thing he WILL say, and this is purely to give you credit, is “Ah. The background instrumentals in my art videos are played live. Yes, my lover’s very talented.”

you guys are the mysterious, talented, soft-voiced power couple of YouTube

Gavin

Gavin’s channel probably starts as a joint channel with you, something like Rachel and Jun

it’s relatively obvious from the start that Gavin from Birds&Cops is in a relationship, since you guys have a vlogging-style channel

your channel is filled with gym vlogs, travel vlogs to other countries and a lot of self-defence and sport at home videos.

you guys also post a lot of funny vlogs talking about your day, going on fun dates, of course food vlogs in restaurants, all that stuff...

you often sit down and talk about your life, and maybe you’ll even do a mukbang during it for someone so fit, Gavin does eat a lot of food.

Gavin’s channel didn’t blow up right away, because vlogging channels aren’t exactly unique, and he looks like the typical ‘straight boy with a girlfriend’

but he started gaining followers after people noticed how cute and blushy he acts, and how incredibly respectful and caring he is towards you

one of the most popular videos is Boyfriend Does My Makeup and it’s adorable. Gavin’s handling your face with so much care, and comments like “I know what this is, I’ve watched you do it many times.” or “Babe, does it hurt? Should I be more gentle? I’m sorry...my hands are rough.” make everyone SWOON

toxic masculinity left the chat. Gavin loves taking care of you in any way, whether it’s getting pads, chocolate and hot packs during your period or braiding your hair

in those yoga/celebrity fitness routine challenges, subs get to see Gavin in a tight singlet and sweatpants/shorts, and it’s HOLY

you’re very much aware of the attention Gavin receives from female fans, and how lucky you are to have found such a sweet partner

Gavin will usually see this type of comment while scrolling and will turn to you and go “Babe, you know I’m the lucky one here, right?”

anyways, a feature that you do to show fans the extent of Gavin’s sweet personality is Pranking My Boyfriend, where you set up the camera for a harmless prank like pretending to have a nightmare (similar to channels like Farina Jo)

that particular video was so fun to shoot, because it ended up with Gavin softly singing a lullaby to calm you down in his arms

“Baby, wake up. I’m here, you’re safe.” Gavin knows how to deal with panicking people, but he hates this prank afterwards because ‘he didn’t like seeing you in pain’

fans squealed. Birds&Cops gained like 50k subs through that video. the channel’s currently at 999k subscribers

overall, it’s just a really lovely, family-friendly channel

Kiro

Kiro knows his way around the web, alright?

not even just as Key, but he’s had a YouTube channel since the age of 15

his channel, CtrlAltChips is a hit with many people of many, many ages

he streams gaming sessions on Twitch and posts them on his YouTube channel afterwards

other content includes (primarily) covers & original songs, simple talking videos, thrifting & fashion videos, mukbangs and candid dance videos in a studio

think of chloe moriondo, doddleoddle, Victor the Drum Destroyer and Cat Strat

alternatively, for the ARMYs here, think of Jeon Jungkook as a YouTuber

Kiro has about 18 million subscribers, which is A LOT, but he’s been on YouTube for 7 years and he’s made a name for himself as a super likeable and bubbly guy with an angelic voice and killer moves

you’d think he’s just a cute boy when he sings acoustic covers, but his dance moves suggest that he’s not THAT cute

also how does he stay so fit with all those snack mukbangs?

he has a segment named In Our Kloset where he talks about social issues (because our boy uses his platform for good) around the world while customizing (not just pins. we’re talking patches, sewing, painting, embroidery) thrifted clothing to his liking. at the end he holds a little fashion show with his new outfits

after a while, you’ll see many of his outfits in giveaways or on sale for charity. Kiro tries to give back to his fans as much as he can, and how better than by sharing a piece of his unique clothing with them?

a great singer and performer. has held actual concerts before and has an actual music career (author-nim leaves it up to you readers to decide whether this is his idol career or some other musical project)

keeps his private life PRIVATE. he knows how the internet works, and he knows there’s no way he can keep your relationship a secret forever, but he’s not about to expose it to the world because of that reason

keeps tabs on information or rumours regarding you and makes them vanish

he’s simultaneously the most open and the most secretive out of the four boys. his fans know his favourite colour, what type of underwear he wears (trunks. Kiro wears trunks.), his birthday,...

but they know nothing about his past, his location, his close social circle or his family (teeechnically he’s an orphan but ig we’re talking about his mentor here. the blood of the covenant blah blah blah...y’know?). Kiro protects his loved ones fiercely

for someone who’s kept so secret, you’re actually really involved in Kiro’s virtual persona. you’re usually behind the camera during his In Our Kloset videos and are in charge of extra research regarding topics so he doesn’t spread any misinformation

you also give pointers during filming (of course, these bits are edited out) because Kiro tends to trail off and get distracted when sewing

another way you’re involved is setting up the food during mukbangs. you have a great sense of aesthetics, so all of his videos in general will go through you.

while you like being low-key in Kiro’s life, you don’t want him to feel like he has to protect you from all the hate.

he doesn’t particularly love keeping you a secret either, and it makes him feel guilty because he doesn’t want you to think he’s ashamed of you. he could never be.

you guys give it a good chat over how you’re going to announce it, and he just ends up making a video titled Miss Chips where the two of you sit down and talk to the camera

“Hello my little chips! Uhm, as you can see, there’s someone sitting next to me today. Maybe you already guessed from the title, but this is...my girlfriend, Miss Chips,” cue the cute jazz hands in your direction, “We’ve been dating for a long, loooong time, right, Miss Chips?”

“I just wanted to share this with you guys, since it felt wrong to keep such an important person in my life private. I hope you’re all kind to her, because I love her dearly, even to the point of giving up my snacks...so it’s serious.”

it really is that serious, hm?

Hope you enjoyed reading!

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scotianostra · 3 years ago

Video

youtube

On July 7th 1575 the skirmish called “The Raid of the Redeswire”, took place between Scottish and English borderers.

Second mention of the day for Sir Walter Scott who wrote about this in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, an anthology of Border ballads. I will post the said ballad below.

The incident cited is sometimes as the last “battle” between Scottish and English forces, and it was the first reported conflict since 1547 at Pinkie Cleugh, a connection to another post today, it was during The Rough Wooing. Anyway this was a regular Warden’s meeting that got a wee bit out of hand.

The meeting was between John Carmichael, the Keeper of Liddesdale, and the English Middle March Warden, Sir John Forster, there would have been fines to be paid, men to be handed over to answer for their crimes, and paperwork to be exchanged. It is unlikely that either side had considered an all-out fight. Things seems to have gone well enough, until the case of one individual was raised. Carmichael demanded that he was handed over, Forster told Carmichael the man had taken leg bail, meaning had escaped from custody, which was not believed.

Insults were exchanged and then the entire meeting got out of hand when the English lost their tempers, and attacked, killing two men and wounding several others.

There are different versions of what happened next, one states that the Scottish Borderers were onto a hiding if it hadn’t been for the men of Jedburgh turning up shouting their slogan: “Stand firm and sure - Jethart’s here!”, Jethart was the old name for Jedburgh. The other version says that the skirmish seemed to have gone the Scots way due to the the fact that the English mainly fought with bows and swords, but the Scots were armed with firearms as well as more traditional weapons. Either way about two dozen English were killed, Forster and several other nobles were captured.

In the immediate aftermath the Scots decided to a wee bit Reiving, meaning, “plunder or rob”, and also made off with 300 cattle from local farms.

Forster and the other prisoners were delivered to James VI Regent, James Douglas, and held at Dalkeith Castle. Douglas said, for their own safety, but initially a ransom would have been in the minds of the Scots who captured them. Douglas wrote to the English monarch, Queen Elizabeth, who was none too pleased, but an amicable arrangement was made, neither side wanting the incident to lead into a full scale war.

Forster and the others had been treated with kindness and were released with gifts and an apology for being held. As part of the deal Carmichael was delivered to York to stand trial, but fair does to the English, he was acquitted as the court found that Forster had engaged in an unprovoked attack.

On the Cheviot Hills, near the place where the battle was fought a monument known as the Redeswire Stone was built in commemoration of the battle. It reads, “On this ridge, June 7th, 1575 was fought one of the last border raids, known as The Raid of the Redeswire”.

The battle is commemorated by the Jedburgh Reidswire common riding each year, this ride is the longest of the festival and is undertaken on two horses at a fast pace, watch the video above for the arrival at Redeswire.

For those not familiar with the area, Redeswire is not far from the famous stop on the Scotland-England Border at Carter’s Bar.

The Raid of the Reidswire

The seventh of July, the suith to say, At the Reidswire the tryst was set; Our Wardens they affixed the day, And as they promised, so they met. Alas! that day I’ll ne’er forgett! Was sure sae feard and then sae faine— They came theare justice for to gett, Will never green to come again.

Carmichael was our Warden then, He caused the country to conveen; And the Laird’s Wat, that worthie man, Brought in that sirname weil beseen: The Armestranges, that aye hae been A hardie house, but not a hail, The Elliots’ honnors to maintaine, Brought down the lave o’ Liddesdale.

Then Tividale came to wi’ speid; The Sheriffe brought the Douglas down, Wi’ Cranstane, Gladstain, good at need, Baith Rewle water, and Hawick town. Beanjeddart baldly made him boun, Wi’ a’ the Trumbills, stronge and stout; The Rutherfoords, with grit renown, Convoyed the town of Jedbrugh out.

Of other clans I cannot tell, Because our warning was not wide. Be this our folks hae tane the fell, And planted down palliones their to bide. We looked down the other side, And saw come breasting ower the brae, Wi’ Sir John Forster for their guyde, Full fiftene hundred men and mae.

It grieved him sair that day, I trow, Wi’ Sir George Hinrome of Schipsydehouse; Because we were not men enow, They counted us not worth a louse. Sir George was gentle, meek, and douse, But he was hail and hett as fire; And yet, for all his cracking crouse, He rewd the raid o’ the Reidswire.

To deal with proud men is but pain; For either must ye fight or flee, Or else no answer make again, But play the beast, and let them be. It was na wonder he was hie, Had Tindaill, Reedsdaill, at his hand, Wi’ Cukdaill, Gladsdaill on the lee, And Hebsrime, and Northumberland.

Yett was our meeting meek enough, Begun wi’ merriment and mowes, And at the brae, aboon the heugh, The clark sate down to call the rowes. And some for kyne, and some for ewes, Called in of Dandrie, Hob, and Jock— We saw come marching ower the knows, Five hundred Fennicks in a flock.

With jack and speir, and bowes all bent, And warlike weapons at their will: Although we were na weel content, Yet, be my trouth, we feard no ill. Some gaed to drink, and some stude still, And some to cairds and dice them sped, Till on ane Farnstein they fyled a bill, And he was fugitive and fled.

Carmichaell bade them speik out plainlie, And cloke no cause for ill nor good; The other answering him as vainlie, Began to reckon kin and blood: He raise, and raxed him where he stood, And bade him match him with his marrows: Then Tindaill heard them reasun rude, And they loot off a flight of arrows.

Then was there nought but bow and speir, And every man pulled out a brand; “A Schaftan and a Fenwick” thare: Gude Symington was slain frae hand. The Scotsmen cried on other to stand, Frae time they saw John Robson slain— What should they cry? the King’s command Could cause no cowards turn again.

Up rose the Laird to red the cumber, Which would not be for all his boast;— What could we doe with sic a number? Fyve thousand men into a host. Then Henry Purdie proved his cost, And very narrowlie had mischiefed him, And there we had our Warden lost, Wert not the grit God he reliev’d him.

Another throw the breikes him bair, Whill flatlies to the grund he fell: Than thought I weel we had lost him there, Into my stomach it struck a knell! Yet up he raise, the treuth to tell ye, And laid about him dints full dour, His horsemen they raid sturdilie, And stude about him in the stoure.

Then raise the slogan with ane shout— “Fy Tindaill, to it! Jedbrugh’s here!” I trow he was not half sae stout, But anis his stomach was asteir. With gun and genzie, bow and speir, Men might see mony a cracked crown; But up amang the merchant geir, They were as busie as we were down.

The swallow taill frae tackles flew, Five hundreth flain into the flight, But we had pestelets enow, And shot amang them as we might. With help of God the game gade right, Frae time the foremost of them fell; Then over the know, without goodnight, They ran with mony a shout and yell.

But after they had turned backs, Yet Tindaill men they turned again; And had not been the merchant packs, There had been mae of Scotland slain. But Jesu! if the folks were fain To put the bussing on their thies; And so they fled, wi’ a’ their main, Down ower the brae like clogged bees.

Sir Francis Russell ta’en was their, And hurt, as we hear men rehearse; Proud Wallinton was wounded sair, Albeit he be a Fennick fierce. But if ye wald a souldier search, Among them a’ were ta’en that night, Was nane sae wordie to put in verse, As Colingwood, that courteous knight.

Young Henry, scaiped home, is hurt; A souldier shot him with a bow: Scotland has cause to mak great sturt, For laiming of the Laird of Mow. The Laird’s Wat did weel indeed, His freinds stood stoutlie by himsel’, With little Gladstain, gude in need, For Gretein kend na gude be ill.

The Sheriff wanted not gude will, Howbeit he might not fight so fast; Beanjeddart, Hundlie, and Hunthill, Three, on they laid weel at the last. Except the horsemen of the guard, If I could put men to availe, None stoutlier stood out for their laird, Nor did the lads of Liddesdail.

But little harness had we there; But auld Badreule had on a jack, And did right weel, I you declare, With all his Trumbills at his back. Gude Ederstane was not to lack, Nor Kirktoun, Newtoun, noble men! Thir’s all the specials I of speake, By others that I could not ken.

Who did invent that day of play, We need not fear to find him soon; For Sir John Forster, I dare well say, Made us this noisome afternoon. Not that I speak preceislie out, That he supposed it would be perril; But pride, and breaking out of feuid, Garr’d Tindaill lads begin the quarrel.

#Scotland #scottish #Border Reivers.#scottish borders #history #england

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b4kuch1n · 4 years ago

Text

The Future Is In Space! (and so is the rest of you)

Okay, so. Gordon should’ve seen this coming.

And he did, to be fair: Joshua’s always loved space. Joshua loved the idea of flying cars when he was a tiny little thing, if the fact that all of the toy cars he had were thrown with intense force at one point or another meant something, and he clapped at the night sky once when Gordon got them both stuck at a gas station in the middle of nowhere due to… circumstances… which was super, ultra, uber cute as fuck . Especially because Gordon had just applauded him for singing along to a song on the radio when they parked, and that was very possibly the first time Joshua registered clapping as a possible positive reaction to something he likes, or whatever like that. Gordon Freeman has a PhD in theoretical physics and theoretical physics only.

The point is that Gordon loves Joshua so fucking much. No, the point is that Joshua has always liked space. He chose for himself a set of space-themed PJs when Gordon took him to the mall, and he likes food with weird colors because that’s “alien food”, and he has given away all of the toy cars he had to make space for toy space ships of many sizes, and Gordon has had to have a conversation with him once about upending a dusty fish bowl onto his own head so he could look like an astronaut. He doesn’t do that anymore, because Joshua is genuinely a really smart kid who just needs the required pieces of information to put things together by himself.

Gordon loves him so much.

Gordon also has only experienced a single year of relatively radiation-free, sludge-free, organic, non-Black Mesa- poisoned air and also freedom (to an extent) since. You know. Almost dying and also losing his right arm in Black Mesa. Where he jumped into a few portals, one of which leading to an alien world called Xen, where he had to kill what seemed to him at the time a spiteful god against his own existence.

That, and not the Joshua-loves-space part, is the part he didn’t see coming. Hadn’t. Still doesn’t, if he can be honest for a minute. There are days it still doesn’t feel real, just to contrast nicely with the days when what’s left of his right arm and his right shoulder hurt, and days when power outage hit unexpectedly and the lights went out without warning, and days when he fights to not let some stupid fucked up slights against him go because that’s just how the world is that’s how things are now keep your head down and don’t think Gordon just shoot just let your trigger finger pull itself in you are in a comedy of error a laugh track a monkey on a leash just dance just move your feet j

Hey, no digging your heels in there. Throw yourself off your rhythm, Gordon. Joshua. Joshua loves space. Joshua is going to an elementary school now. Joshua just came home from a “career” day, and the parent invited to speak is a retired astronaut.

Joshua said: “I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up!”

Joshua likes numbers. Somewhat. He’s not averse to them, at the very least, and homework’s kind of bullshit from the concept to the execution but when Gordon and Tommy and Coomer sit down to keep him engaged while he does it he has fun with math homework. He likes video games, he likes the puzzles in the youth magazines they signed up for at his school, he likes messing with shape blocks and pulls out some cool combinations Gordon doesn’t see coming sometimes. Joshua is a smart kid that enjoys a fair challenge. Joshua is totally astronaut materials.

Joshua is going to space.

Joshua is absolutely going to space.

Xen is, coincidentally, also in space.

Gordon is calm. He totally has a good poker face. He performs well under pressure, especially very specific types of pressure, e.g. when there are rules in place he can cling to and ground out an appropriate plan of action. He could improvise a presentation in class in a pinch, because he knew what presentations are and what he’s been working on and what the teacher expected. He could jimmy his car out of an ice patch, because he knew how cars work and how ice acts. He can smile and say “That’s great, Joshie! You just gotta work hard for it, and then you’ll be in space in no time.”

Gordon has an image he can provide to show how he feels.

[Picture ID: a drawing of Gordon Freeman standing in front of his son Joshua, cut off at their chest. Gordon is a tall man, a bit heavyset, with tan skin and mid-back length, messy curly brown hair that’s greyed at his temples due to stress from surviving the hellhole that is Black Mesa and Xen. He’s wearing his comfortable worn-and-faded t-shirt, which is orange with a very faded graphic printed on the front. Joshua is a young boy with brown skin and short dark curly hair, brown eyes that’s brimming with light and happiness, and a wide happy smile. He’s wearing a light green t-shirt. Gordon is smiling at him, with another shot of his face enlarged and superimposed on the drawing right next to his head. This Gordon is screaming. This Gordon is screaming his heart out, and his face is scrunched up while his mouth opens wide, and he’s screaming a silent scream and he will never stop.]

---

Contrary to how it appears to everyone, Benrey doesn’t live full time at the Freemans’.

Well. He does “sleep” there. If he actually sleeps. That’s one of the questions that Gordon has had ever since Black Mesa that he never got to or bothered to ask, and then when they had to defeat Benrey in the final boss fight he thought that was it with his chance to ever ask. And then Benrey came back and the situation took a hard left into throw-the-whole-suitcase-out awkwardness and Gordon thought it better to never bring those questions up ever again. It’s. Ongoing. Like his climb back into being a normal, mostly law abiding, neutral good citizen, who has no ties to that research facility that blew up and opened a portal to hell in space.

It helps that Benrey really is just… a dude. Now that he’s not eighty feet tall and clipping through walls anymore, he can definitely pass as someone who just really loves to mess with people for a laugh. Which… well, Gordon’s judgement of character is probably better discarded in the kitchen trash compactor now, but he’s not gonna lie and say that’s all Benrey seems to him. He doesn’t even mess with people for laugh, not really. He is just. Like that. He’s an alien, but in the sense that’s…

Well, to Benrey, humans are alien. So that’s that.

And also Black Mesa did stretch the definition of ‘human’ in the physical sense pretty thin. So, again, that’s that. It all fits together like sliced pita bread.

The other thing that helps is that Gordon has the tendency to forget about risks or consequences when they are not directly in front of him, which he sometimes overcorrects, but this time around it helps move the sentiment into the philosophical window pretty quick, and then he can throw a brick through that one, because philosophy sucks ass. Gordon’s moving along well! He only had to change prosthetics twice because the first two were in order too heavy for his shoulder and too energy consuming, and all three are fully covered by the overlords that didn’t want Black Mesa to become a Thing in history, and now he works remotely for a uni that just lets whatever happen. It’s chill. It’s mostly chill.

He could’ve just chugged along never thinking even an inch deeper about Benrey’s Benrey-ness again, and Benrey makes that easy, because Benrey loves walking around and looking at things and being a bit of a spectacle with a straight face. Okay, Gordon doesn’t know for sure if Benrey loves doing those things, because he’s not Benrey. He just knows that Benrey does those things, frequently, and with an expertise that baffles even him, who knows full well how Benrey is. Well enough. Awkward territory, all of this is, really. The Point Is that Benrey actually doesn’t appear at home too much! He plays games through the night sometimes, sure, and ever since he called second dibs on any cereal in the apartment he always appears at the right time to claim that, but the whole thing is. Balanced. Benrey doesn’t seem to have physical personal belongings outside of the PS3 and four copies of Heavenly Sword he lugged back one day (the rest of the game library everyone kinda chimed in here and there to build up, because console is common ground fair use for everyone, while PC is where Gordon streams and also works, so it’s off limit), and he rarely uses utensils to eat anything, so to anyone but the team it’d seem like he’s barely there at all. Except for his presence of course. That’s… a lot harder to negotiate.

Gordon’s gotten very, extremely good at it though. It’s his life. Things fit together, mostly. He can deal, he has been dealing, and it’s even been fun. It’s definitely really funny here and there.

Gordon’s about to break the equilibrium. Introduce a nasty new specimen into the scene.

“Bro I knocked for a hot minute,” Benrey says, at the same time as Gordon’s blurting out, “I need to go back to Xen.”

“Huh.”

“Wha- Why do you knock? You’ve never knocked. You’ve literally only ever broken in.”

“Wanna… start now.” Benrey intones in that exact way, and then knocks on the door again. It doesn’t even sound good. These doors are all made with the weird thick composite that makes a dull plastic sound when knocked on.

“Don’t do that, just use the doorbell if you want to-” Gordon catches himself. “No matter. I need to go back to Xen. As soon as possible, but anytime in the next… twelve years… will work.”

Benrey just looks at him for a long time. An extended minute. Maybe even two.

Gordon is just staring back.

“You’re at. The door.” Benrey says, in a low voice. Gordon blinks. “Rude… rude little boy Freeman, huh.”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Benrey-”

“Gonna let me in? Soon? ‘s bad etiquette… greeter… doesn’t even let guests in. Bet your wares aren’t even good.”

“Alright! Alright.” Gordon snaps, but he also does step back for Benrey to walk in, which. Really, that’s never been necessary. Benrey’s always come in and out as he pleases. Usually Gordon just walks out into the living room and Benrey’s already on the couch playing whatever game catches his eyes on that day. The decorum of knocking and walking in is simply never present.

Well, Benrey does knock on Joshua’s bedroom door. But that’s it.

They walk together into the living room, then Benrey situates himself on the couch, and Gordon settles on the carpeted floor next to the table to observe him. He’s never seen Benrey actually fold his limbs up into the position he’s usually already in when walked in on before. It’s mostly normal movements, which still catches Gordon off-guard a bit.

“Nice couch you’ve got here,” Benrey says, and pulls out his phone to fiddle with. It’s a Nokia 2700 Classic, with a theme downloaded from the Ovi Store, and a firefighter-themed 2D platformer that does get insanely hard in places. Tommy got him a snazzier Blackberry a while back, but he refused that one. Gordon didn’t really get it, but. Whatever.

“It’s always been here,” Gordon replies on reflex.

“Liar… Gordon Lie… man.” Benrey seems to need to chew on that one for a second. “Gordon Lieman. This building’s like. Ten years old.”

“That’s practically forever dude. That’s longer than they sent me to MIT for. Joshua’s not even that old.”

“He’s gonna. In… seven… years.”

Gordon remembers what he needs to talk with Benrey about again. “Goddamnit,” he slaps his own face - not with the hard prosthetic this time, thank you very much. Took him six months of HEV training and a year with a prosthetic to get it to heart. “Okay, so. Xen.”

“Wait. Math’s wrong… eleven. Years.”

“Don’t distract me! Xen!” Gordon throws his arms up, finally making Benrey actually look at him proper. “Joshua wants to be an astronaut when he grows up.”

Benrey puts his phone down.

“Yeah,” Gordon scrubs his face, with his flesh hand. “So I need to… do something about Xen. I have a plan. I need to find materials, and then I need a way to Xen…”

“What’s an astronaut.”

“A- no.” Gordon sits up straight. “No, you’re fucking with me. You’re doing this on purpose. I’m fucking about to go nuts, dude.”

Benrey looks him up and down, makes sure his head movement is clear in the dark living room, lit only by the lamppost outside the window. “Yeah,” he says, “no shit. You wanna go back to… Xen… and stuff. Freeman lost his mind.”

Gordon opens his mouth to retort, but then closes it with a click. “Okay,” he mumbles after a moment of thinking it over, “okay. I get where you’re coming from.”

“Haha, get it. ‘cause I’m from. Xen. And shit.”

“Not funny, dude.” It is a bit funny. “But I’m not- okay, so, listen, Joshua’s a determined kid, alright? He’s smart, and he’s healthy, and he likes space. He’s… the chance of him becoming an astronaut is not zero.” Gordon pulls his legs up to his chest. “If it’s up to me, it’s gonna be a hundred percent, ‘cause that’d make him so happy. But even if I’m not the one writing the almighty script I’m still gonna do my best to help him if he’s serious.”

Benrey continues looking at him. “Uh-huh.”

“And… that includes. Never letting him near Xen.”

“Mm.”

“And I know, I know Xen’s like. Ten fucking floating rocks at least a million Texas lengths away from Earth, but it’s still there, y’know? It’s still there. You’re from there! You know it’s still…”

“Yeah?”

“... I. Want to blow Xen up.”

Benrey settles into the draw-me-like-a-French-girl pose. “Sounds good. How’re we doing that.”

“Well, we’ll need explosives that can actually detonate in Xen’s climate, and acquiring that’s gonna put me on so many shitlist-” Gordon almost physically grabs his own hand to yank himself back to Benrey’s answer. “Wait. Are you really just… relenting? Are you actually in this now. Benrey?”

“Say more about the explosive though.” Benrey blinks innocently at him. “Please? Explosive cool. Maybe illegal. Super cool though.”

Gordon is not doing the frog mouth thing. He’s not. He’s totally not. He sighs a long sigh; there, no more rude expression. “I am only thinking about using explosives, because it’s costly and we’re gonna have to transport it. So you have nothing to snitch about. Who would you even snitch to, anyway? Fucking- we are under an indefinite two-way nondisclosure clause, if any of us ever open our mouth to a stranger about that we’re gonna get sacked, but. Wait are you even involved in that? You came back after we signed those papers. Well Tommy’s officially ‘representing’ us, so it’s all tangential kinda, so maybe he can just add you, but why would you-”

“No explosive run huh… What’re you gonna… use. Then.”

“-subject yourself to the law- alright, yeah uh. To be honest I was thinking raw force? Because I do have around twelve years to make this work, and Coomer has insane strength that has leveled a Xen island before, and Bubby is… I think he just isn’t aware that there’s supposed to be a limit to human strength at all. They forget to put that in when they pumped him with knowledge juice. He can- wait, Bubby can just make fire. He can maybe negate the climate conditions for us, so explosives are still in the question here, and- Darnold, last I heard he’s doing some ‘Sour Patch Kids but real’ stuff… sounds like seriously corrosive stuff… We can. We can have a plan.”

Benrey is on his phone again. “Nice.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gordon dry swallows some dust from the carpet. He realizes he’s gripping on it pretty hard with his prosthetic; he’s close to ripping a chunk of it out. He takes a deep breath and relaxes the plastic hand. “We’re gonna need to make and test the explosives, and we’re. I need to tell everyone. Convince them to help. And we’ll need a portal back to Xen.”

Benrey’s still clicking away on his phone - probably playing that firefighter game again - but he’s looking at Gordon at the same time. Gordon looks up just in time to catch the sharp grin disappearing from his face.

Alright. Maybe Benrey does love doing Benrey things. At least one of them’s actively enjoying this.

---

Gordon’s well aware how ridiculous he is. Is sometimes seen as. Perceived as. Terminologies.

Mostly he copes fine with that. He’s lived it for as long as he’s alive. Most decisions he makes are met with a raised eyebrow at the sublest and outright laughter at the rudest. Transitioning, that was a long, long period of his parents going from “haha funny joke but don’t tell it in public yeah” to “oh shit that’s for real huh? That’s for real” to confused, but silent, silence. Him applying for MIT and seeking a scholarship was definitely the career advisor at his high school laughing uncomfortably for a long time, because Gordon’s never held down a project properly, has he? How’s he doing this? And then him adopting Joshua officially was at least ten separate conversations with Joshua’s grandparents patting him on the back, it’s okay if you don’t! We can care for him. It’s nice to have children around the house again! We know you’re busy! We know there’s things youngsters like you want to do before getting tied down with children. Trust us, we know. You don’t have to .

Gordon knows. He’s never had to make any of the decisions he actively made, but one, that’s why they’re decisions and not punishments , and two, in many ways including cerebral, he did. Kind of have to. In many ways those are the only steps that make sense for him to take. They were the foundation to who he is as a person, with a sense of self that must be supernaturally obscure, because he’s. He’s got a lot of things to balance. A lot of tight ropes to walk.

Gordon’s many things, a lot of those he doesn’t fucking recall himself. Maybe that’s by itself absurd enough. He’s had a lot of time to learn, and a bit of time to relearn, being okay with being absurd.

Black Mesa “helped”, in the same way it spared the rest of him when it got his arm cut the fuck off. It’s a horror comedy. It gave him a bit of a new perspective on absurdity.

“Don’t you dare,” Gordon grouches, because he’s learning. He’s always learning. “Don’t use the a-word.”

Bubby puts his arm together in front of his chest. “I’m not about to! Don’t presume you know what I will do.”

In a way Bubby’s incredulous look stings worse than Benrey’s deflection, Gordon reasons, because Benrey has emotional (?) stakes in Xen’s existence. Maybe he has an external heart or something that’s still beating and keeping him alive on Xen, though Gordon hopes he’d’ve at least been transparent about that when they talked about blowing the place up. Bubby though, Bubby doesn’t have emotional ties to many things altogether. Bubby’s also a tube baby who sets himself on fire with his thoughts. Himself and other people and/or objects. Not as absurd as Benrey being Benrey, but absurd enough to be way above Gordon on the a-scale, and thus has no rights to call Gordon absurd.

“You have to admit though,” Bubby says after a moment of silence.

Gordon takes a deep breath. “No, actually, I don’t have to admit shit,” he says, with what he can call patience with just a little bit of definition stretching, “you ever thought of that? I actually can just never admit that blowing up a whole planetoid system is a bit out-of-the-box thinking of me. I can just say that it’s totally normal and expected behavior of me, and what’re you gonna do with that? Huh? Do go on.”

“Oh don’t be pissy at me,” Bubby huffs, and goes back to staring at the buoy bobbing on the water surface, tied to his fishing line. “You’re scaring away the fish, Gordon. Everyone knows you don’t talk and stomp around on the piers while people are fishing. It’s rude.”

“You’re literally only trying to see if you can set a fish on fire as a prank,” Gordon points out, more for his own sanity than to prove anything to anyone, least of all Bubby.

Benrey looks like he’s ignoring Gordon and Bubby’s exchange, just sitting at the edge of the piers, legs swinging evenly, but Gordon well knows he’s listening in. If not because he’s somewhat invested then because most things that frustrate Gordon is great entertainment to him.

He is, maybe, a bit, somewhat invested though, must be. He brought Gordon to where Bubby and Coomer are camping, afterall. No reasons else to do it, especially when they have time to wait for them to come back to civilization. Twelve years, in fact.

Gordon can wait (he can forget, but in his book that’s the same as waiting, really), and he doesn’t begrudge Bubby and Coomer’s “honeymoon trip”, which has consisted thus far of them trampling about in ~~nature~~ , e.g. deep ends of the world that they do not and should not have access to, but somehow end up in anyway. Gordon only knew because Coomer’s grown fond of taking pictures, and once in a while if they get wifi he sends everyone some. The most memorable one was a pitch black square except for two dots of light in the distance, with the geotag pointing to them being in the Mariana trench.

They’re having fun, and Darnold and Tommy take effort to “decontaminate” them between trips, as well as make them learn wildlife interaction guidelines (Bubby probably already knew, but he didn’t care, and still nobody’s sure if he cares now), so Gordon doesn’t mind. Has no reason to mind. Until now, but only a tiny bit.

They decided to stop in a seaside town somewhere up North three days ago, and wifi’s spotty at best but Coomer still managed to send them pictures again - of him fighting a dolphin and Bubby making fun of a goat skeleton in a museum - and then Gordon got tired of staying up thinking about Xen at night and shot his shot. It took them another day to check their message again, and Bubby replied saying “don’t third wheel other people, weirdo” and Gordon just sighed and resigned himself to staying up way too late for another week or so. But then Benrey asked him to go to GameStop with him, which. Admittedly that was suspicious as hell, but Gordon reasoned Benrey knocked and asked to be let in the other day, so what the fuck, right. And then he stepped through the GameStop’s door, noticing the glass being darker than usual, and ended up on this piers where Bubby’s been trying to have a laugh at some poor fish’s expense.

Bubby made fun of him for third wheeling again, despite Benrey also being right there, and despite Coomer not even being there.

“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Gordon asked, because maybe he can be a little bit spiteful. He’s allowed.

“No,” Bubby grumbled. “Harold impressed Gregory with his punching power, so he’s invited to the Punching Tournament. I don’t like being in water for a long time so I stayed. Their sandwich’s not even good.”

Gregory turned out to be the giant squid that lives a few kilometers off the shore, and another few kilometers under the sea level.

“I’m gonna issue an a-word ban, actually,” Gordon declares, when he comes back to where Bubby’s sitting on his journey to wear a track into the piers. “I think that’s more conducive to real conversations.”

He’s being distracted, he knows. And maybe he’s letting himself be a bit distracted, so he can have a minute to improvise a script. Benrey just fast traveled him here, he did not prepare any materials, he doesn’t even have his notebook with him. That’s where all of his plans are! And his doodles. Mostly his doodles, but that’s a part of his thinking process, so he’s allowed.

“Alright, Mister Fucking-Insane-Person,” Bubby shrugs.

“Doctor.”

“Oh, my bad! Doctor Fucking-Insane-Person.”

“Also that’s a ban dodge and you know it. Also you still don’t have any rights to call me anything! I refuse to submit in this matter.”

Bubby turns around fully to put his hand on crossed legs and stare at Gordon. “You sure, Gordon? Are you very sure about that, when you warp out of thin air to where I am missing my husband very much and not torturing fishes for fun, saying things about blowing Xen up ? Is that not ragingly absurd, Doctor ?”

Gordon takes another deep breath. For his own benefit. For his own wellbeing. “Okay, one, Benrey warped me here, I was not responsible for that. Two, you’re trying to set fishes on fire, and your husband is punching more fishes while a giant squid cheers him on, probably. And three, which part of blowing Xen up is absurd, now? Feel free to elaborate on it. I’m all ears.”

“The very idea of it!” Bubby exclaims, accidentally shoving his fishing rod off the optimal position, chasing away the few fishes not shunned by his radiating malicious intent yet. “Who even thinks of that?”

“Me,” Gordon snaps back, “and you guys kinda ruined what ‘absurd’ even means at all for me, so don’t try me at it.”

Bubby shuts his mouth with a click, but his brows are still furrowed in the exact way that claims, loudly even if soundlessly, that he thinks that’s stupid.

“No, go on, Doctor Bubby,” Gordon presses. “You’ve got the quiz. Try your hand at it again, go ahead.”

“Alright, then, how are we even doing it? If we’re doing it. And there’s no we yet, mind you.”

“I- okay.” Gordon holds his hands up. “I’ll admit I do not have the specifics yet. But logistically at least, it’s entirely possible. We’ll need,” he calculates a number real quick, “thirteen hundred pounds of column charge slurry, but if we have something high corrosive we can wrap up safely until detonation we’ll need even less. We can. Make that much. If we have Darnold’s help. We need access to Xen itself, which Tommy has the biggest chance to get. We’ll need to put the explosives deeper into the ground than surface level, so we’ll need to dig some holes, but with Doctor Coomer’s strength we can take care of that. And then we’ll need to trip it, and that might pose a problem in Xen’s climate, but we can manage a chemical fuse, or. Y’know. Just burn it hot enough to explode, which.”

He ends that speech with a vague and a bit jerky wave of his hand towards Bubby.

Bubby just blinks. “Huh.”

Benrey snickers under his breath, either at a fish or at Bubby’s reaction, Gordon doesn’t know. He wouldn’t even be able to guess, since Benrey still has his back to the entire commotion.

Gordon catches himself holding his breath, so he consciously exhales slowly. It’s okay. It’s whatever. He has twelve years. He can take some detours if necessary. He can forget, even. Maybe.

“That Doctorate turns out to be for something, huh,” Bubby continues. “That does sound pretty plausible, afterall.”

“Huh,” Gordon’s turn to blink. “Wait, that’s it? You’re in now?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bubby swings his arm out, “even though I’d like to be testy for a while longer, I also want to blow things up. Outside is very large, but it severely lacks opportunities to see things explode, so I’ll have to make it happen myself now.”

That’s a tiny bit worrying, but Gordon’ll take it. He’s used to Bubby being a tiny bit worrying anyway. Wouldn’t be Bubby without it.

“Now shoo,” Bubby turns around to fiddle with his fishing rod again, carefully moving it back to the optimal position, “you chased all the fishes off. Gonna have to start my work from the beginning now. It’s hard work tricking fishes, you know.”

“Don’t tell Coomer,” Gordon warns, “I want to let him know myself.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Aren’t you ever.”

Gordon figures he’s done all he can on that front.

Benrey catches up with him when he’s walked away dramatically for a few minutes and is now at the main street of the town. “Rudeman.”

Gordon did forget him at the piers, so that’s on him. “Sorry, but also, do you have a plan to get us home, or what? ‘Cause I don’t have my car and I’m not hitching a random ride if I can help it.”

“Gotta... find a GameStop first. Score some Sports Champions 2 for the. PS3.”

“Alright.” Gordon nods. “Wait, do you need a GameStop to transport us? Is that a thing?”

“Huh,” Benrey just looks at him, and then pulls out his brick phone.

Gordon rolls his eyes, but then catches a glimpse of the screen, and sees the digital clock. “It’s- fuck, it’s almost five! Joshua’s almost home.”

“Oh look, no GameStop on the… roadside. What’re we gonna do.”

“Benrey, you- goddamnit,” Gordon frantically pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to yank his right arm out of Benrey’s hold to hold it steady, but Benrey doesn’t yield. “Fucking, let me,” he unlocks it and finds Joshua’s number, which is on top, because he added ‘01’ before his name, because he’s had plenty of experiences with arranging files so they don’t disappear on him, “c’mon, c’mon… Hey Joshie! Are you at school right now?”

“Hi Dad, yes,” Joshua answers, at the same time Gordon registers that he’s walking, Benrey pulling on his arm.

“Sorry I called in the middle of class, buddy, but we’re gonna. I’m gonna be a bit late home, okay? I’m outside right now, but I’m on my way- oh, no, we.”

They’re in his living room. Gordon puts his arm, just released, on top of the couch. This is his couch. The bowl of cereal he finished right before Benrey dragged him out’s still on the table. The PS3 lays silent in the TV cabinet, as it’s always been. He does go around the table to put his free hand on all of these things just to be sure.

“Dad?” Joshua asks from the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”

“I.” Gordon dry swallows. “No, yeah I- I got home. Me and Benrey were out for a bit and we got? Lost? But we found our way back, and I’m. I’m home now. I was really worried I wouldn’t make it back in time to open the door for you, so I called! But I’m home now.”

“That’s good!” Joshua says, even though Gordon can still hear worry in his voice. Sweet kid, his boy is. “Thank you for telling me in ad-advance.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted your class. Dad’ll be more careful next time.”

“It’s okay. What are we having tonight?”

Gordon takes a deep breath, holds it in for a moment, and then breathes it out, slowly. “We can have mac and cheese again, or we can try our hand at naan and make some soup to go with it,” he says, willing his voice to calm down. “We still have the yeast Ms. Juney gave us last month, right? We can go get bread flour when you’re home.”

“Okay.”

“Go back to class, buddy. See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Can we have chowder tonight too?”

Gordon laughs. “We’ll look into it, but sure! If we can find the ingredients for it. Alright, bye now. Love you, honey.”

“Okay,” Joshua says again, and when Gordon’s about to move the phone from his ear, he adds, “Love you too, Dad.” And then he hangs up.

Gordon goes to the couch and sits down. He’s maybe cradling his phone a bit. It’s still warm from him gripping on it way too hard. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“That went well, huh,” Benrey says, from the hallway. Gordon looks up to see him closing the door behind him, what looks like a copy of Sports Champions 2 for the PS3 in hand.

Gordon laughs, again, for real this time. “That’s- where'd you even get that?

---

They did make naan, or a version of it. Joshua likes messing with flour, Gordon caught him walking his fingers through the bowl, leaving tiny “footprints”. They couldn’t agree on a fish to put in the chowder, so they shelved that plan and bought some canned beef-and-vegetables soup instead. The naan turned out… fine. They tasted enough like naan, and Gordon only burned like two. Which was maybe thanks to the apartment’s stove top burning a bit less hot than it did the last time they used it; Gordon made a mental note to check on the gas or. Whatever one does. When that happened. He just needed to look up a number, call it, and stand next to the (hopefully) professional who would come while they did their work.

Benrey sat at the couch while the Freemans cooked and ate their dinner, either being on his phone or scrolling idly through the PS3’s library. Joshua asked if he could try and throw naan pieces into Benrey’s mouth from the kitchen table, which Gordon allowed, but with the preset limit of only three pieces, and the condition that he picked up the ones that missed himself. He then asked Benrey very politely if he could open his mouth to catch the bread, and then made a lot of mental calculations before throwing each piece. The first one missed, but the other two were snatched up by Benrey in a somewhat shark-like display, which Joshua clapped excitedly for.

Gordon heard Benrey come to the kitchen table, which Joshua was wiping off with the designated kitchen rag (the fourth one this month alone; it feels like someone’s eating them as they’re replaced sometimes), while he was cleaning the dishes. “Hey lil’ gamer dude,” Benrey said, and Gordon could hear him rustle around in a pocket of his puffy vest. “Scored big in the. Minigame.”

“Thank you,” Joshua replied politely.

“Here’s your price,” Benrey said. Gordon assumed Joshua was holding out his hands to receive whatever Benrey gave him, because he couldn’t hear any noise that thing made, just Joshua’s little excited gasp.

“It’s like the... Intarna-Internation… nal… Space Station!”

“Huh,” Gordon could hear Benrey blink, “that’s what it is…”

“Yeah! These are, here, they’re solar panels! They charge the batteries in here.”

“Nice.”

“Thank you Benrey!”

“Yeah, GG.” And then Benrey shuffled back to the couch, if Gordon interpreted the noises correctly.

Joshua held onto the price trinket until he asked Gordon to put it in the tool cabinet, along with the cake moulds and decoration kit courtesy of Gordon’s hectic MIT years. It was… Gordon could see why Joshua thought that was where it should go. It could be considered a cookie cutter, if the shape weren’t kinda suboptimal for a cookie. It also did look like the ISS, with wings and all.

Nobody in this household’s baked anything sweet in this apartment for at least a year, but. Well. Never say no to free, reusable stuff.

Gordon’s phone vibrates when he’s just sat down at the kitchen table again, a mug of garbage instant coffee in hand. He abandons it to go get his phone from where it’s charging on the living room table.

It’s Coomer. “It’s Coomer,” Gordon says out loud. “That’s weird- he’s. He doesn’t call.”

“He’s calling. Now.” Benrey says from where he’s sitting, on the couch. Gordon takes a deep breath and doesn’t deign it worth a rebuttal. He accepts the call instead.

“Hello Gordon! I heard you want to blow Xen up.”

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bubby told you.”

“He did! In great details!”

“I- alright, whatever, I didn’t expect actual results with that one anyway.” Gordon remembers about his coffee. He comes back to where it’s waiting for him on the kitchen table, and takes himself a generous sip, letting it burn his mouth. “Fuck!” He sets the cup down maybe a bit forcefully. “Oh that’s a bad decision. What did- what did he tell you?”

Coomer takes a moment to gather his thoughts, leaving a blank minute where sounds of the wind and waves on the shore come through his mic. Gordon hopes he isn’t thinking about sleeping out there tonight, for the full nature flavor or whatever. “ A large part of his speech was about explosion! And how big and grand it would be. And also about how much he fucking hates Xen!”

“Glad we agree on that front,” Gordon mumbles.

“So am I! I also fucking hate Xen!”

“That’s. That’s fair, really, it’s a garbage place. But- did he, like. Have you heard anything about the actual plan? Did he tell you anything about the actual plan I definitely mentioned to him?”

Coomer pauses for another moment, probably to recall. “Nope! Not a word about a plan-”

“I fucking knew it,” Gordon mumbles.

“-though that is very thorough of you, Gordon!”

"Okay, listen,” Gordon picks his mug of coffee up and starts pacing. “I actually don’t… have all of it yet. I know me and Benrey are in,” he flicks his gaze to Benrey again, who does nothing to deny the statement, “and Bubby’s now in as well. I still need to- okay, the plan’s basically that we find or make enough explosive for the ten asteroids on Xen, we bury it at the core of said asteroids, and we blow that up so it blows Xen up. I have- I don’t know the specifics of how to make that much explosive yet, but I’ll convince Darnold somehow, and if he sits this one out then we’ll borrow his lab when he’s not using it. And I’ll ask Tommy about a way back to Xen, his. His dad’s done that plenty. He doesn’t seem to like Xen much, right? That’s the impression I got, so we can spin this into us doing him a favor or something. And then we transport the explosive to Xen, I can borrow a truck for that, I know someone, and then we dig into the ground there, that’s where we can really use your superstrength, and then we put the explosive in and. Set it on fire. Bubby, uh, agreed to take care of that.”

Another beat of silence follows Gordon’s speech. He seems to have been making that one a lot recently, mostly to himself, in his room, while writing things down in his notebook. He finds himself chewing on his own lip, so he makes himself stop and takes another gulp of the coffee, which has thankfully cooled down to gulp-appropriate temperature.

When Coomer speaks again, he seems to have chosen his words carefully. “I will need to ‘sleep’ on this, Gordon. You are right in your assessment that you do not have your plan together yet!”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he says, as much to Coomer as to himself. “It’s true. It’s half-thought up right now. I still need to figure out- figure out Darnold and Tommy and Mr. Coolatta. I, yeah,” his voice’s dropped to a mumble by now, “I think I need to sleep on it too.”

“Gordon.” The rustles that accompany Coomer’s voice gives the impression that he’s sitting down onto the pebble-littered beach as he speaks. “I would like to see Xen obliterated, and I think we can get it done.”

“That’s,” Gordon stops on his pacing in the kitchen, “That’s not. It’s okay if you’re not interested, Coomer. You don’t have to walk it back on me.”

“Please do not question my fucking hatred for Xen, Gordon.”

“O-okay.”

“But I am not in favor of hazy dreams anymore. I have gotten to see a lot during my ‘honeymoon’, and now I have broken free, and mere words on a script cannot placate me. I would like to see proof that it’s possible before I participate.”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“I believe you can do it, Gordon!”

“Thank you,” Gordon says, a little bit dazed, while Bubby’s voice comes through from a distance at the same time, “Are you reciting poetry again?”

“In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes?” Coomer answers. “On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?”

“Stop praising that tiger while I’m right here!”

“I’ll,” Gordon says before Coomer can get fully caught up in Bubby’s antics again, “I’ll come back to you with. The details. When I’ve hashed it out. Thanks for,” he exhales, “thanks for holding out for me, Coomer.”

“So it is, Gordon, so it will be!”

Coomer hangs up there, and Gordon sits down at the kitchen table again. He finishes the mug of coffee in one long gulp. It’s gone a little bit more room-temperature than he likes.

“Sleep on it,” he mumbles, “good advice.”

“You should. Do that.” Benrey says from the couch. “Sleep good for body for soul.”

“You know what, when you’re right,” Gordon says, and stands up and goes brush his teeth. He then sits down at his work table and writes down questions until four in the morning.

---

Gordon used to suck at making phone calls. He’s kind of a champion at it now.

Funny thing is there’s an epiphany to it as well: he didn’t grow up with cell phones, so making phone calls was a hierarchical thing for him until he was like. Twenty years old. Kids used the landline when absolutely necessary only, and adults used it whenever they damn well pleased, because they paid for it and they had businesses to take care of . And Gordon was… not much of a rule breaker, surprisingly enough. Oh he fell short of where rules lay plenty, but he didn’t really intentionally break them. So he took calls when his parents said he could and when he absolutely needed to, and that habit persisted well into his adulthood.

He might also just be not very good at holding his tongue when speaking and. That was no good for phone calls. Kiddies phone calls. ‘cause he just realized one day that adults said whatever the fuck they wanted on the phone really, and nobody chastised them for it, no divine punishment, no sudden death round.

A sermon on self-love, that was; Gordon just takes phone calls now. Worst case scenario, he just turns his brain off and lets his mouth do its work. When people don’t presume they know better than him, they don’t presume he’s talking out of his ass ninety percent of the time.

That’s- that’s what he thought. Gordon’s wrong, a little bit. He can be wrong. Has been wrong plenty before. He can correct himself, here, he’s gonna do it right now: worst case scenario, he has to recite his plan, conceived so far in total isolation from anyone he knows and whose opinions he cares about, to the person who’s the most skittish and averse to what his plan is bringing about among those people, over the phone, where he can’t see and gauge body language and facial expressions.

Gordon would… like to meet Darnold face to face for this. But. It’s work. It’s, well, it’s closer to work than to play, given that he’s gotten mildly stressed out over it, and their lunch at the only Taco Bell in the whole desert is strictly pleasant, not-work talk only. And Gordon really, really enjoys those lunch dates, because he never has to think about damage control or having an identity crisis in the middle of one. They’re just nice, normal, a tiny bit shouty (the Taco Bell is usually packed and the acoustic’s not good, but it’s a Taco Bell, and it’s a ritual now), mostly jovial, lunch with a friend, eating subpar food he’s learned to enjoy. They don’t talk about what happened at Black Mesa, they don’t talk about work in general, they don’t even talk about soda outside of appraising the gaudy color combinations for any new sponsored drink. They talk about Joshua, about Darnold’s cat Lumbar Support, about Coomer and Bubby’s travelling, about new game releases, about Sega vs. Nintendo, about the weather.

Gordon doesn’t want to fall short of where the rules lie, not this time. So he calls.

“Doctor Freeman?” Darnold answers with the title, which sets the tone pretty well. Gordon takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“Doctor Pepper.” He pauses. “Darnold. Hey. I, uh, I’ve got a thing I wanna ask.”

“Go ahead!” Darnold goes quiet for a moment, to finish his sandwich, Gordon’d guess. He’s called in the middle of Darnold’s lunch break. “I must preface however that we’re working outside of office hours, and I can only advise you at the moment. Anything further will have to go through the… official channels.”

“Okay, that’s alright. I just.” Gordon worries his lips. He realizes he’s tugging pretty hard on his left sleeve; he makes himself let go. “I have a. Plan. That’ll need your expertise.”

“I’d be delighted to help then! Feel free to share more.”

“It’s about, uh.” Gordon takes another deep breath. He’s been consuming a lot of oxygen recently. “IwanttoblowXenup?”

Darnold goes, predictably, quiet for a moment. It doesn’t sting less when it’s predictable.

When he speaks again, it’s in a clipped, professional-but-barely tone. “Please say that again, but slowly.”

Gordon closes his eyes against the sunlight streaming in from the window in his bedroom. “I want to. Blow Xen up.”

“Gordon,” Darnold sighs. “Doctor Freeman.”

“I know.”

“Your megalomaniacal tendencies have grown since we last met.”

“It’s not- I’m not doing it for fun!” Gordon throws his free arm up. “Okay, this is genuinely a lot of effort and stress for something I’d do for pleasure, Darnold. I also couldn’t care less about fucking Xen - okay that’s not true, I’ve lost like a week of sleep over blowing it up, that’s not not caring, but like. I can’t. I need it to not be there,” he stands up from his bed and starts pacing, “and I have. A plan. Half of one. About that much. So it’s not hopeless-”

“Gordon, please slow down.”

“-as long as I have your help and- and Tommy’s, okay, I will. uh.” He taps on his thigh with his free hand too, for good measure. Go the whole nine yard with fidgeting, why not. “I. So, Joshua wants to be an astronaut,” he intones, and for the first time in a while he’s reminded again of how this started, how it took over his life for a hot minute, and it almost gives him the hiccups, “and. Y’know. Xen is in space. So it needs to not be there anymore. So I want to. Blow it up.”

Darnold goes silent again. Gordon thinks he can hear the epiphany punch the air out of him. Fuck, he hates phone calls.

“As much as I want to berate you about how you’re treating this matter and yourself,” Darnold resumes primly after a moment, “my lunch break is ending in exactly fifty-two seconds, and this sandwich will take me another two bites to get through. I’ll see you in the Taco Bell’s parking lot at three AM this afternoon, Gordon. Drink water.”

He hangs up. Gordon goes drink water.

Benrey clips into the apartment when Gordon’s on his third mug of iced water. “Whoa, hydration streak,” he says, settling himself on the kitchen table.

“I can go a bit crazy,” Gordon mumbles. “I’m allowed a little bit of funk and insanity. This is my house.”

“It’s… actually. MFA’s.”

Gordon groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I tried to forget that. Also it actually belongs to the NRC, since they apparently can just scare MFA into giving employees housing, which I’m really fucking horrified by, but I’m choosing to not think about it, and you can’t make me.”

“It can be mine soon.”

“Do not attack and dethrone Nils Diaz.”

Benrey huffs. “Killjoy Freeman.” He shifts his pose so he’s sitting up straighter. “You wanna… try out Premium Water? Free trial for a week, you can manually cancel your. Subscription. After.”

Gordon stares at him. “What’s Premium Water.”

Benrey opens his jaws, wide, showing his teeth. He points inside as if there’s anything Gordon wants to find at all in there at the moment. Then he closes it with a click and stares back at Gordon.

Gordon just sighs. “No, Benrey.”

“Guaranteed beddy bye time, no charge,” Benrey blinks at him. “Black Mesa Sweet Voice™ a hundred percent effective. Five stars… satisfaction… rating.”

“You’re fucking lying, because I’d never leave it five stars. You get three at best.”

“Gonna catch you when you fall off the. Chair. Gonna be romantic.”

Gordon laughs. “No, not allowed.” He sighs and finishes the mug of water like it’s mead and he’s some Dungeons and Dragons elven ranger. He gives himself brain freeze. “Ah, fuck, oof,” he slaps his own forehead, “bad decision. Bad decision. Okay, I. I appreciate you asking instead of just going for it, but that’s the reality of asking, right? The person you ask can say no. And you’ve just gotta learn how to deal with it.”

Benrey just keeps staring at him, but he’s used to that now. It’s only a tiny bit unnerving. “How’s learning’s... satisfaction rate.”

Gordon sighs again. “It sucks ass. Fucking hate learning.”

Benrey grins at him, and then he checks his phone and it’s already time to go.

“Drink this,” Darnold says immediately when Gordon climbs into the shotgun seat of his car, and holds out a beaker of bubbling purple liquid.

Gordon just stares at it. “Darnold, what is this.”

Darnold sighs. “It’s the Potion of Not Telling. I also drank a sample before coming here,” he holds up an empty beaker with some of the same purple liquid at the bottom. “It blows us up if we tell our employers what we’re up to.”

Gordon ponders this very carefully. “Does. Tommy, for example. Does he count as my ‘employer’?”

“No,” Darnold says. “‘Employers’ only cover people and/or establishments you’re currently under an employee contract with and receiving salary from.”

“Alright,” Gordon intones carefully, and downs the whole beaker. It tastes like… the jello packaged like seahorses Tommy brings over sometimes. The red ones, specifically. It makes him feel a bit bloated, immediately, and he rubs his side a bit anxiously when he sits down in the car. “You’re actually under NDAs at all times, huh,” he says, as an opening line.

“Same as you, Gordon.” Darnold takes the beaker back from Gordon’s hand and puts it in with the other one. “Black Mesa seeked me out and offered to find me a position in a brewery, as well as fund any of my independent ventures, as long as I do not say a word about what… transpired… back there. The official record’s that I was stranded on an island with curious dino-esque creatures for four years, instead of worked in Black Mesa’s mixology department, and honed my craft with their help, using the fruits native to that island.”

Gordon laughs, and rubs his face with the prosthetic hand. It’s like putting your face on the car’s dashboard. “Sounds like them alright. At least yours sounds exciting, instead of fucking insane. They said I was ‘chasing an entropy in the desert’ and it ‘ate my hand’. What the fuck does that even mean?”

“We attempted feats of miracle, only it was not under their accountability,” Darnold says, “and we were punished for it. No matter, we have more important things at hand. What is this plan you’ve cooked up, Gordon?”

Gordon takes a deep breath, finding it easier than it’s been for a while, and relays what he’s got down of the blow-Xen-up plan to Darnold. They never look at each other meanwhile, both staring at the cars lined up haphazardly in the lane across from them, Gordon in a barren calmness as words leave his mouth, Darnold with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his whole presence compacted into a contemplative, silent piece.

“That is an intense reaction to a faraway threat, Gordon,” Darnold says when Gordon’s speech is over. “Xen is not only at least a galaxy away, but also a few dimensions over, if I understand the briefing right. I haven’t thought about that wretched place for almost a year.”

“Sorry,” Gordon says, not really feeling any of it, but making the effort.

“You don’t have to. I understand where you’re coming from.” Darnold taps idly on his own arm. “I was… extracted… swiftly from Black Mesa after I met you and your friends. I did not witness what happened after, but I saw… enough.” He takes a deep breath as well. “We can all have intense reactions to anything.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not maladaptive,” Gordon says. He’s gone to therapy. It was really good for helping him build a system that filters out the things that actually fucks him up and makes some sense of the rest, but it doesn’t lift him out of the comedy of his life itself. It can’t. That’s not what therapy’s for.

“Indeed,” Darnold says. “But I can’t be the judge of that. My domain lies with potion mixing, and I dare say I am a true expert at it, but I can’t claim expertise at other people’s life. Especially not yours.”

“I get it,” Gordon nods. The world kinda bobs a tiny bit when he does that. “I. Know not to indulge my impulse mostly. But sometimes decisions come back to haunt me, and those are usually just about choosing one furniture over another, or tying my shoelaces in the bunny ears way instead of the circle way and having them undone in the middle of a meeting and stepping on them and falling on my face, but this time it’s. It’s Joshua’s life. And there’s just no limit anymore to what can happen, not since.” He swallows. “Black Mesa.”

Darnold nods.

Gordon blinks. “I know it’s a little bit crazy.”

“It might be,” Darnold says, “but as a famous mixologist once said: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if that gain is just your peace of mind.”

Gordon lets out the breath he isn’t even aware he’s been holding. “Thank you.”

“You do not need to,” Darnold smiles, “I do stand to gain from this as well, since I really need to test this flavouring that’s supposed to land on pleasantly tart on the taste scale but goes into intestine-destroyingly sour territory instead. I need to know what makes it that corrosive, and testing on humans is entirely unethical.”

---

Gordon got home before Joshua. Benrey’s also not home. He lays down on the couch and takes a nap.

He wakes to a quilt over most of him, light turned on in the living room and in the kitchen, and silent chatter. His sense of smell kicks in a minute or so into him still laying on the couch, blinking up at the ceiling; he smells fish sauce and sugar cooking.

“Tommy’s over,” he mumbles.

“He awakes,” Benrey says, seemingly into thin air. Gordon feels the couch shift minutely as Benrey makes to stand up from where he’s sitting leaning back on it. “Good eatin’. I’ll go get the. Food. Coloring.”

When Gordon’s gathered enough of himself to sit up, Benrey’s nowhere to be seen. Tommy’s shifting something animatedly on the stove, while Joshua carefully carries one bowl at a time to the kitchen table.

“Hey Dad!” Joshua says when he catches Gordon’s eyes. He puts the bowl he’s carrying down to free his hand for waving. Gordon waves back.

“Hey Joshie, hey Tommy. What’re you guys making?”

“Caramelized pork b-belly!” Tommy says from his stove station. “And... sautéed vegetable medley.”

“With rice!” Joshua adds.

“A perfectly balanced meal.”

“I picked the vege-ta-bles!”

Gordon folds the quilt to busy his hands. This one’s definitely not his. He may have one somewhere in the closet, but it hasn’t made an appearance in… six months. He thinks. “What did you get for us, buddy?”

“Carrot!” Joshua holds up a finger. “It has a lot of vita- vitamin… A.”

“Awesome,” Gordon says and goes over to the kitchen table to high five Joshua. “What else did you choose?”

“String beans!”

“Oh?” Joshua hasn’t been much for that.

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna teach me how to eat them!”

“A dash of- of flavour, packed in one Kn●rr’s Complete Seasoning packet, is all you’ll need!” Tommy switches to a lower voice when Gordon peers over his shoulder at the pan on the stove. “That is not true. Kn●rr is only… fit to be- be on the floor.”

“Are- you’re not putting that in then?”

“No, I just use salt and pepper.”

Joshua giggles. Tommy extends a hand that Joshua can slap on in place of a high five.

Gordon gets out the utensils - spoon for Joshua, chopsticks for him and Tommy - and brings the rice cooker to the table once the light’s jumped to orange. He plates the pork, scooping Joshua’s helping into his personal plate first, while Tommy finishes with the vegetables. Tommy lets Joshua choose which vegetables to go on his plate; Joshua bravely gets a little bit of everything.

They eat dinner on top of companionable conversation, Gordon and Tommy taking turns asking Joshua about school and other things.

“I heard you want to- to be an astronaut,” Tommy asks. Joshua dutifully finishes his mouthful before answering.

“Yes! I want to go to space!”

“Do you want to meet- aliens?”

“Yeah!” Joshua’s excitement cools down a little bit as he scoops up another spoonful of rice with a piece of string bean carefully balanced on top. “I read the Wiki-pea-dia about it though. They say there’s no dis-discernable e-vidence of aliens yet. We sent the Voyager Golden Records an’ they haven’t… answered yet.”

“That’s how p-physical mails are,” Tommy smiles while getting himself a piece of the caramelized pork. “It used to take… weeks... before we hear from our friends who are far away. And the- the universe doesn’t have a… an Everywhere Wifi Network yet.”

Joshua shares a conspiratory look with Gordon and mouths not yet . Gordon laughs. Gordon’s clutching his bowl maybe a bit too tight.

“You can become an astronaut and- meet aliens. In space,” Tommy waves his chopsticks with a flourish.

“I’ll teach them what- what e-mails are!”

“It’ll take a- a lot of hard work, and you have to be able to eat string beans.” Tommy takes an exaggerated look at Joshua’s plate, now cleaned of food. “Oh! Would you l-look at that! Mister Joshua Freeman is… perfect astronaut materials, according to… the NASA guidelines.”

Joshua beams with a pride that knocks something loose in Gordon’s chest.

They finish dinner and clean up together, then Gordon sends Joshua back to his room to do his homework, agreeing to an hour of video game after if he can get it done before nine. Gordon cleans the dishes while Tommy puts the kettle on and makes them both hot chocolate.

“I bought some-something for Joshua today,” Tommy prompts. Gordon looks back to see him hold up the exact same cookie-cutter-thing Benrey gave Joshua the other day.

“Oh- oh my god.” Gordon laughs. “Holy shit?”

“Wh-what’s the matter, Gordon?”

“Do you guys have like a hivemind or something?” Gordon pulls off a glove to open the tool cabinet and pull Benrey’s gift out. “Benrey gave Joshua this. I don’t even- what’re these supposed to be? Where d’you guys even get them from?”

“It’s the- International Space Station Biscuit Cutter!” Tommy puffs out his chest, slightly indignant, but definitely bemused as well. “They’re issued by- NASA, cut from the s-scrap metal of the hulls of… prototype spaceships. They’re very rare!”

Gordon stares at the one in his hand. “And now we have two of them.”

“They’re… very valuable! You can sell them for a high price.”

Gordon smiles. He puts Benrey’s apparently rare and expensive gift back into the tool cabinet and puts the glove back on. “You’ve gotta ask Joshua about that. It’s for him, afterall.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, crumbled into grains only by the click-clack of dishes in the sink and the water running from the faucet. Gordon weaves himself into a solid piece of nerve, bracing, bracing.

Tommy’s… better acquainted with the crazies of these things than most, maybe. He’s apparently said “fuck it” to the administrative work that his dad would’ve liked to hand back to him at one point, and just. Got a PhD in nuclear physics instead. Gordon’s been through something like that, and from experience he can tell that it would’ve taken real nerve to do it. He also can tell that no matter what it still rubs off on you, and you don’t recover from that kinda consistent exposure to idiosyncrasies, because you don’t ever feel like there’s anything to recover from , really. It’s just how it is, and the world’s off-kilter, not you. Like Benrey, Tommy’s world runs on a different axis, and he and the rest of them are, in many ways, looking both through strange eyes.

Gordon’s a little bit jealous of that. He’s honestly not sure if he can ever fully get Tommy, but then. Plenty of people never get him, and here he is. He can learn to wear it as well as Tommy, one day.

Right now though. Tommy’s important to the plan. Gordon knows that, in a theoretical way. Ha, theoretical…

“I would like to not be insane,” Gordon says, more to himself, at the same time as Tommy setting his cup of hot chocolate down and saying, “Benrey… told me.”

“Oh… I. That’s? Good?”

“Wha- you’re not insane , Gordon!” Tommy waves his hand. Gordon can hear it, even if he can’t see it. “You’re… creative.”

“Thanks Tommy,” Gordon says with a huff of laughter that he doesn’t think reaches Tommy at all. “I. I get it though. I got Bubby to turn around on it, but everyone else did say that it’s a little bit fucked up that I thought of doing that at all.”

“But they… agreed on helping you anyway.”

Gordon taps on the metal wall of the sink. “That’s… yeah. Well, other than Coomer.”

“Doctor Coomer doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Tommy protests. “He just has... boundaries.”

“That’s fair. He’s allowed that. He more than deserves that.” Gordon blinks. “Wait- why am I arguing down on my side? I need you to be on board for the plan to work.” He laughs, bowing down over the sink. He’s shaking a little bit. “Wow. I’m a little bit gone. Can I be a little bit gone?”

“You’re… totally allowed, Gordon” He feels Tommy tug on his elbow. With a deep breath, he lets go of where he’s gripping on the edge of the sink with white knuckles, and lets Tommy lead him to the kitchen table. He dutifully sits himself down on a chair, lets Tommy take off the gloves, and holds the cup of hot chocolate Tommy pushes into his hands carefully. “It’s your house.”

“It’s MFA’s.”

“It’s yours,” Tommy says, determinedly, and Gordon takes a deep breath and sidesteps every implications that has. “You can have your fears, and… and your plans, and your hopes. For Joshua. It’s your place, Gordon.”

Gordon takes a shaky sip of the hot chocolate. Tommy puts on the gloves and finishes washing the dishes for him.

“Sorry,” Gordon says, mostly aiming at the dishes thing, but. He also just kinda wants to put that out there.

“There’s nothing to be… be sorry for,” Tommy replies, amidst the noises of the dishes and the water running.

Tommy talks while Gordon drinks his hot chocolate; in the end, whether he wants to or not, he’s accepted a bit of the job the Gman holds. Gordon knows this, that’s how Tommy vouched for and kept the Science Team from a much worse fate than relative freedom except for a story no sane man’d believe anyway. Mister Coolatta Senior seemed to be impressed by the choice, aside from all the worries that come with it.

“He’s… he’s proud of me,” Tommy says, softly. “I know he only wants what’s best for me.”

“He’s been awfully accommodating,” Gordon says, remembering about the movie night they had after Tommy’s birthday bash last year. That man pulled a gun on him. As if he’d walk out on Tommy, if Tommy’d asked for him to stay around.

“He… doesn’t involve me… with his problems,” Tommy says. “Some parents do that.”

Gordon can’t find anything to say to that, so he finishes his hot chocolate.

“I got a vote when they brought Xen up the-the other day,” Tommy says, when the dishes have all been cleaned and put on the rack to dry. He pulls out the chair next to Gordon and picks up his cup of hot chocolate. It’s still steaming, somehow. “I-they were thinking it was- it’s too risky to leave a bridging point open like that. They want to… demolish it.”

Gordon chuckles, and then it becomes a full body laugh, and then he’s curling up on himself, the empty cup between his hands. He shouldn’t clutch it like this, it might break. He’s broken the handle off of a mug before, when one of his old prosthetic wasn’t calibrated perfectly. He can’t stop laughing though. Not enough to let go of the cup now.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “holy motherfucking shit. We’re doing it. We’re doing it? Xen’s fucking going down.”

“It sure is!” Tommy says, and claps a polite golf clap for Gordon’s victory.

---

Gordon does have shit he needs to do for the online classes he teaches, but outside of it he’s still way too idle. He and Joshua go to the aquarium and the museum whenever the schedule works out, and once in a while they drive by Roswell to catch a plane taking off into the sky, and he does grocery runs and tries to clean around the house and do laundry on a timetable, and there’s always the PS3 Benrey dragged back that’s now public good, as well as his probably too long Steam list, but. Gordon’s shit at talking himself into and out of doing things. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right to start doing something, so there’s a black hole of time between him thinking “I should get to this” and him actually doing it. And Joshua’s life isn’t just him; his son’s going to school now, and he’s made friends at school, and he talks to them on the phone and goes hang out with them on weekend afternoons.

Gordon’s not as good at holding onto time anymore, now that things’ve. Changed.

So figuring the explosives out’s been good for him. It’s just what he does back in uni again, except without a supervisor, without having to write anything down properly (just legibly’s enough), and without peer review. It’s mostly math, but with the spirit of two middle schoolers stealing sodium crumbs from the school lab to throw into puddles. It’s closer to play than he expected. Closer than playing Horse Simulator 3D on the PS3.

He and Darnold spend the day building the corrosion rate equation, pouring Darnold’s concoction on rocks Gordon figures have the same make-up as the ground on Xen. Benrey doesn’t bring the venture up often, but every other day Gordon finds clumps of dirt and random rocks that weigh suspiciously little for their size in his glove compartment. He brings those in for the pour test as well, and they build a simulation based on them.

Balancing the corrosion with the heat’s a bit tricky; Gordon needs to know how hot Bubby’s ignition can go, since their number’s high. He was about to shoot Bubby a call when Coomer’s latest photo arrived. Gordon recognized the street in it.

They put the project on hold for an afternoon so Tommy and Darnold can have the lab to decontaminate Coomer and Bubby. Gordon spends that afternoon getting the air fryer he ordered last week out of the box while Benrey reads the manual out loud wrongly. He calls Joshua to let him know they’re having guests over that evening, thankfully in the middle of the school recess this time. Gordon tries to remember Joshua’s exact timetable at school, he really does. It’s just not fruitful a task.

When Joshua arrives home, Gordon’s in the middle of arguing with Bubby over how much water’s left in air fried food. “Hey Granpa! Hey Bubby!” Joshua waves at Coomer and Bubby, “hey Uncle Tommy! Hey Doctor Darnold! Hey Benrey! Hey Dad!”

Gordon steals the chance to close the air fryer while Bubby’s joining in with the “Hey Joshua!” chorus and distracted. “We’re making spring rolls and egg rolls!” He calls after Joshua, who’s in his room putting his backpack away. “You can choose the filling yourself!”

The kitchen barely fits everyone, so comes dinnertime they move the living room table up next to the TV cabinet to make space for the spare straw mat, and lay out a tablecloth on top for good measure (Gordon’s had enough experience to remember to do that). They sit on the floor in the living room together, almost shoulder to shoulder, and at some point the conversation gets away from Gordon entirely. He just nods when Joshua points at something he wants and gets some in the bowl for him.

“I’ve heard somebody wants to become an astronaut,” He hears Coomer say at one point.

Joshua puffs out his chest proudly.

“Doesn’t everybody at some point,” Bubby says. “I wanted to be an astronaut too, when I was forty.”

“Oh I have seen the photos,” Coomer continues, a gentle light in his eyes, “It is very beautiful out there.”

Joshua asks for help with his homework after dinner, and Tommy and Darnold sit down with him for that. Benrey joins Gordon at the sink while he’s pouring dish soap into one of the large bowls they used. He doesn’t know what to do but blink at him, dumbfounded.

“Check this out,” Benrey says, and spits lime green into the sink. When the light clears, the dishes have become spotless.

Gordon stares at the sink. “I- you- th- is that- you can do that? ” He points at the plates. leaning on the sink’s edge.

Benrey grins. “New… new skill acquired bro. Just got the EXP for it.”

“You spent your EXP on dish cleaning ?”

“We should conserve water, Gordon!” Coomer declares from behind him next to the kitchen table. “Water shortage is caused by corporate greed, but with certain individual actions we can improve the situation ourselves!”

“Please don’t kill Mark Schneider.”

“Worry not, Doctor Freeman! His death will not be by my hand directly!”

Gordon laughs, helplessly. “Everything happens so much,” he laments, only semi-jokingly, as he takes off the cleaning gloves and puts the plates on the rack.

“Keep up, Doctor Freeman,” Bubby says.

“They certainly do,” Coomer says, much more nicely. “I’ve heard your plan is soon coming to fruition!”

Gordon nods. “Yeah, it’s. Yeah. We were,” he swallows, “Darnold and I, we were about to ask for Bubby to let us test his fire. Figure out if he can reach the ignition point we need.”

“Well now, that sounds like a challenge,” Bubby says.

Gordon finds a price tag still stuck on one of the bowls that he’s very sure wasn’t there when it was brought out. “Benrey,” he groans. Benrey just gives him a shit eating grin. “You’ll need to hold a temperature for about three minutes, and then the mixture takes care of the rest,” he says to Bubby, while swatting Benrey on the shoulder.

“Just three minutes, isn’t it.”

“Do not try and stay for more. I’m serious. When it explodes it’s gonna turn seriously corrosive. You’re gonna be sludge ten seconds after it gets on you.”

Gordon can hear Bubby blink. “Oh- oh. This is serious huh. We are blowing Xen up.”

“We are, darling,” Coomer affirms.

Bubby shifts on his chair. “I’ll need. A minute.”

When Gordon’s done with the dishes, he turns back to the kitchen table to catch Bubby letting go of Coomer after a hug. “Son of a bitch, you went for it, you motherfucker,” Bubby says, a bit too loudly, fixing his glasses.

Benrey sings a very high note over his voice. “Language!” Gordon hisses.

“Oh, sorry.” Bubby pats his own mouth. “Forgive a man, I’m still working through it.” He switches to a mumble, seemingly only to himself. “It’s real. I’m gonna set Xen on fire. Gonna show Black Mesa what for. It’s really gonna happen…”

Coomer pats Bubby on the back lightly, making him almost hit his face on the table. “We’ll finally move fully away from the game, my dear Professor,” he says, and he’s smiling. He’s smiling very wide.

“I can be your Professor,” Bubby mumbles. “I can blow Xen up.”

“ We can blow Xen up,” Gordon corrects him. “Me and Darnold didn’t agonize over a- darn modifier for a week and a half so you can set our work on fire and take all the credits.”

“Hush, let me process things, you rude bastard.” Benrey censors bastard with another burst of pinkish light.

“I can see the other end,” Coomer says, cheerfully. “Now, Gordon, I’ve heard you need help digging into the core of a few asteroids?”

---

They mark a date for the excursion.

He ‘woke up’ early, and made himself and Joshua an actual breakfast for a change while Benrey finished off the box of cereal that was open. “Dad’s got a work thing coming up,” he told Joshua while scooping extra egg onto his plate. “I’m gonna have to stay on site for a night.”

“So you’re not going home tonight?” Joshua asked, taking the plate handed to him by Gordon, but making no move to go back to his chair.

Gordon nodded. “I’ll be home tomorrow though, but you’re gonna have to stay at your grandparents’ tonight. I’m gonna come pick you up at their place tomorrow afternoon. You should pack a spare change of clothes and your pajamas to bring to school.”

“Okay,” Joshua said. And then, “What’re you staying on-site for?”

“I’m,” Gordon said, “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this, yeah? I’m blowing asteroids up.”

He could see Joshua’s eyes brighten. It was visible . “ In space ?”

“Yes,” Gordon laughed. “But it’s very experimental, which means…”

“It’s not ready for the public eye yet,” Joshua whispered, almost reverently.

Gordon laughed again, and took off the mitten on his hand to ruffle Joshua’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay staying at your grandparents’ place? If you don’t like that I can ask someone else to come over instead.”

“It’s okay,” Joshua said, finally content to go sit down again. “Can I bring my skate shoes?”

“Sure thing, put them in a bag.”

Gordon called Joshua’s grandparents to let them know to pick him up at five (Joshua chimed in to ask them to remind him about the roller skates), and then Joshua got his backpack and spare clothes and bag for the shoes and the house was once again vacant.

They don’t have a vehicle, but Tommy sings and Bubby joins in and Darnold keeps a beat and after a while Benrey starts playing songs out of the shitty speaker on his phone. Gordon’s even spent the day before sleepless, but that’s kind of everyday now. He hadn’t anticipated having to get used to a day having twenty four hours again, but well. He hadn’t anticipated anything while going through Black Mesa, really. It wasn’t really ideal thinking-far-ahead environment.

Benrey seems bouncier when he’s on Xen. Gordon didn’t think about it, but when he steps through the portal he has a flash of that image from what feels like a lifetime ago: Benrey giant as the Earth itself, blocking everything else in sight, his form longing to catch up with his already immense, oppressive presence. Taller than any walls, any mountains, any barriers between himself and a measly human’s fleeting existence.

Gordon shakes his head. At his least incomprehensible, Benrey’s said it was “a show”. “Like. Cable TV. A television series,” Gordon’s asked.

“Like a cutscene,” Benrey’s replied, as if Gordon was the one too slow for the course.

Benrey now felt nothing like whatever that was that happened to him and the Science Team last year. Benrey now felt just… like a dude. Doing a barrel roll, while saying “Ooooo barrel roll” with a straight face. While his Nokia 2700’s still crushing whatever song it’s playing into oblivion.

Gordon doesn’t deal in implications anymore, so he starts singing along to whatever everyone else’s singing as well, and focuses on carrying their homemade Xen-specific dynamite blocks to where they’re going to dig their largest hole into the core of this wretched piece of rock.

It takes a day, kind of; he doesn’t sleep, out here in the thin atmosphere of Xen, where the stars don’t blink and red light comes in a hue from inside the dirt. He doesn’t have to force himself to go lay down at midnight like back home, he just sits down, at the edge of the portal, when the explosives have all been installed, and watch Coomer and Bubby ready themselves.

They can hear Bubby’s cackles ringing in Xen’s air and also in their comms, as he lays in Coomer’s arms and they race the fire, starting from the outer ring of asteroids to the main Xen island. They jump from rock to rock, red light trailing after them while the dirt itself breaks apart, not with a boom, but with the sound of bubbles breaking after a wave crashes on the shore. Xen glows brighter than it probably ever has, in its disintegration.

Benrey sings a few vacant notes, standing on nothingness; the light from his mouth blends in almost perfectly with Xen’s dying light.

“You got all of your belongings outta there?” Gordon asks, half as a jab, half serious. “Didn’t leave anything important in your old apartment?”

Benrey doesn’t answer, for a moment. When he does, it’s just to mumble, “oh look, there’s fireworks.”

---

They got home early from it.

Gordon takes a nap on the couch; he only wakes up from Benrey turning the sound up to max and then shooting a rocket at a truck in Far Cry 3. “Dude,” he throws an arm up over his face, and winces when it’s the plastic arm. “What the fuck.”

“Go pick Joshua up,” Benrey says, definitely too conversationally, and barely understandable under the noises from the game. “Gordon. Sleepman.”

“You’re slipping,” Gordon comments as he wrestles himself out of Tommy’s quilt. He forgot to give it back to Tommy, he realizes sleepily, picking up the phone he left charging on the living room table. It’s seven already.

The drive to Joshua’s grandparents’ place is not a long one. He finds Joshua sitting at the porch of the little house, backpack and the bag with the roller skates at his feet. Joshua jumps up at the sight of Gordon’s car, and before he can walk through the gate he’s already found his arms full of his son.

Joshua clings to his neck with a death grip. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Gordon says. “I was tired, so I took a nap, and forgot the time.”

“It’s okay,” Joshua mumbles, “you were tired.”

“I blew up so many asteroids though.” Gordon says, and Joshua laughs.

They drive home after saying goodbye to Joshua’s grandparents (Joshua’s grandpa put a wrapped up pot pie in Gordon’s hands with an iron grip and a gaze that communicated clearly what would happen if he refused it), and Joshua agreed to take a detour to the Roswell airport for the night. Gordon absentmindedly texts Benrey taking the kid to watch airplanes, get your own food , and puts his phone away for the drive. The radio’s on, but Joshua doesn’t sing along. Gordon’s vocal cord’s still tired from Xen (no more, Xen-no-more it is, there’s just a vast of empty space inbetween dimensions there now) so he also stays silent.

They get ice cream at a drive-thru on the way, and then they’re at the highway, parking on the roadside, looking over the rail at the airport. A plane leaves the ground there and goes into the air. Gordon’s struck by how different it is from a bird or a moth; nothing about the plane communicates any internal movement, it just. Moves. Up and up. Like a JPEG sliding across the screen under someone’s puppeteering with a mouse.

Joshua stares at the plane, unblinking. “Is it dangerous in space, Dad?” He asks.

Gordon taps his hand on the steering wheel. “It’s.” He starts saying, but stops to clear his throat. “It can be. There’s a lot of math going into making things that bring a human into space, and a lot of different people doing different parts of that math, and. Sometimes some people do their math wrong. Sometimes they try something new, and we don’t have the good math for that new thing yet. Sometimes new things break into the old math, and we need to. Work around that new thing.”

“What happens if,” Joshua swallows, “someone does the math wrong?”

“We try to catch it,” Gordon says. “That’s why there are so many people doing the math. So if someone gives the wrong answer, they can spot it early, and fix it.”

“What if nobody does,” Joshua says. He’s still looking through the car’s window, at the stroke of cloud the plane’s long flown past.

Gordon puts his hands on the gear stick. “That’s very, very rare to happen,” he intones carefully. “They have to check, over and over, before they send a ship into space.”

Joshua turns from the window to Gordon. He looks at Gordon’s prosthetic hand, on the gear stick. “I’ve only found books about spaceships that have gone to space,” he says, quiet.

Gordon turns over, and holds out that hand. Joshua climbs over the gear stick to give him another hug. “Experiments are important to those ships too,” Gordon says. “They give the people who make the ships important information to make them safe.”

Joshua just buries himself in Gordon’s arms.

“I’m really sorry I came home late and didn’t call you, Joshua,” Gordon says, and hugs his son tighter. “I won’t do that again. I’ll always call when I’m home late.”

“I don’t have to be an astronaut,” Joshua mumbles.

“Oh, no- nononono, listen,” Gordon says into his hair, with all the determination he can muster up. “Listen, Joshua, you become whoever you want to, okay? You don’t have to be anything, but you don’t have to not be anything either. That’s my mistake, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re good. You’re good. You’ll be an incredible astronaut. You’ll be the first man on Mars. Jupiter, even.”

“Jupiter is a gas giant,” Joshua mumbles. “There isn't any land to land on.”

Gordon nods. “That’s why it’s called landing , I get it.”

---

They drive home after, and Joshua asks to sit with Gordon while he and Benrey play Mario Kart. Gordon agrees, which means he has to clamp down on any curse he almost lets out when someone bumps him off the damn road, while Benrey does some magic or whatever on his screen. Who the hell knows.

After their third match, Benrey elbows Gordon in the arm to signify a break. “Beddy bye hour,” he says, not even looking at Gordon, “for… babies. Hattrick means I make the rules.”

“You didn’t come first in the second match,” Gordon argues, but quiets down when he looks down to see Joshua asleep leaning on him. “Okay, don’t fucking choose Toon Link for me again while I’m away,” he points a finger at Benrey, who’s residing smugly in the to-be-chaos of his own making. “I’m fucking serious.”

He carries Joshua to his bedroom and tucks him in, and then detours to the kitchen for some water.

“Ooh, hydration,” Benrey comments idly.

“What d’you know about it,” Gordon mumbles when he settles back down on the couch. He looks at the TV screen to find Inkling on one of the shitty bikes. “What the hell man, this bike sucks ass. Fucking Shit Taste McGee over here.”

Benrey laughs.

Gordon plays the game, while thinking about the sendoff party they’re throwing for Bubby and Coomer next week, before the grandpas go off gallivanting in yet another forbidden corner of the Earth. Coomer lovingly calls it their “honeymoon”, but Gordon has full faith this is gonna be what they do forever. Or at least until they’re bored of Earth, and start aiming for the Moon instead. Probably not a bad place to be in.

“Thinking Xen thoughts, aren’t’cha,” Benrey says, while sending a shell after some poor computer character.

Gordon grins. “Ha! Sike! I’m not even thinking about Xen.” He pauses, catching the full force of a fireball a Mario shoots at him. “I haven’t thought about Xen at all actually. Since I got home with Joshua.”

“Achievement unlocked,” Benrey says, and extends a hand. Gordon stares at it.

“Wh- huh?”

“High five, idiot.”

“Oh,” Gordon says, and slaps that hand. Benrey’s eyes widen at the noise.

“Yo that’s a. Crunchy noise.” He claps his hands together, and he’s laughing now, light flowing out in a thread of something like baby blue. “This rules,” he says happily.

Gordon smiles, and then some motherfucker flings a shell at him, so he falls off the road again.

He stays up way too late again, and time doesn’t stop slipping, and when Darnold gives him a vial of neutralizer for the Potion of Not Telling at their little party the week after it gives him something like mania and he hugs Coomer like an idiot while the old man slaps his back in a motion that’s supposed to be comforting. He sleeps that off as well afterwards, and wakes up to Tommy surfing the channels on his TV, complaining about lack of daytime talk shows. When he forgets about the scheduled blackout a month after, he still calls the concierge with shaking hands and then climbs into his bed like he’s four again and there’s a storm outside. He still thinks about Black Mesa, and about Xen.

There’s just a little addendum now, that he can remind myself of.

It’s weird how quickly it blends into everything else, but. Well. It’s weird everything .

He makes cookies again, comes the winter, and teaches himself how to decorate cookies, just to have something to do. Joshua throws his pencil onto the notebook one day to go dig out the lumpy, supposedly-ISS-shaped cookie cutters from the tool cabinet.

“Careful,” Gordon calls after him.

Joshua toddles back with the cookie cutters in hand. “Can we have ISS cookies?” He asks.

Gordon says yes. He also looks up a buncha references, prints them out, and tries to get the cookies exactly correct, making two “outside” cookies and an “inside” one, with schematics of the inner chambers of the ISS drawn on. Joshua loves it.

“Here’s where the astronauts sleep,” He points at the spot that’s supposed to be the service module, and Gordon’s proud of getting that part right on the cookie.

He ruffles Joshua’s hair again. “Hey, maybe you’ll sleep there in twenty years,” he says, and marvels at the levity to that sentence. Just a little bit. It’s washed away with Joshua’s smile, and then they busy themselves with folding bags for the cookies instead.

#hlvrai #gordon feetman #joshua freeman #benrey #tommy coolatta #dr. harold coomer #bubby #darnold pepper #fanfiction #ask to tag #+ one art inside but it mostly has to do with the fic #I will. draw more from this fic and put them in as time goes on #the formatting's a bit wack bc I just copied the formatting from ao3 #I will come back to fix stuff up later #okay now I take more naps #have a good day! and also thank you for reading this fic if you do!

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