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gumnut-logic · 9 months

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“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.

International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.

With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.

Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.

There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.

The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.

It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.

Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.

But it was too late for the town.

It was gone.

Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.

Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.

It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.

The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.

He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.

Nothing could be done.

Nothing.

He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”

“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”

The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.

Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”

“Eastern side, southern corner.”

There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.

“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”

He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.

Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?

His shoulders dropped.

But then...something? A whimper?

Maybe?

Virgil began digging.

It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.

The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.

Aw, hell.

“John, lifesign is a dog.”

“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”

The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.

“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.

A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”

Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.

When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.

No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.

“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.

But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.

He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.

And he couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.

He looked down at her little brown eyes again.

No, he couldn’t.

Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.

Maybe for just a few days?

The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.

Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.

“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”

-o-o-o-

It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.

When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.

Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.

Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.

“What is that?”

Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.

“Bo?”

“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”

Bo let off a sharp bark.

Everyone jumped.

“What the hell, Virgil?”

Bo was literally glaring at Alan.

“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.

“Hey!” That from Alan.

“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.

Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.

She sneezed.

Alan snorted.

Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”

She licked his wrist.

“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”

“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.

Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.

“Shut up, Virgil.”

Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.

“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”

“Sorry, Bo.”

“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”

Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”

“Augh.”

“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.

Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.

“Virgil, where the hell are you?”

Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.

TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.

“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.

Bo fell asleep in his lap.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.

So tired.

Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.

Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”

“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.

“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.

His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”

The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.

Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.

Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.

The smile became a grin.

“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”

And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.

If he could hold off the sleep.

If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.

Bo started chewing on his glove.

Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.

God, that felt good.

As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.

He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.

He was asleep within moments.

-o-o-o-

He was being kissed.

Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...

Uh?

She licked his eye.

Wha-?

Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.

Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”

A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.

Ugh.

He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.

The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.

Oh god.

“Bo, down, honey, down.”

He was completely ignored.

Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.

He winced.

“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”

“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.

Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”

Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”

“She’s a rescue.”

“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”

“She had no one.”

“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.

Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”

Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”

“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.

Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Bo just licked him some more.

It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.

Ugh.

And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.

-o-o-o-

A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.

Since starting International Rescue it had changed.

Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.

There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.

There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.

As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.

“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”

Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”

John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.

His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.

“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.

“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”

“Since this morning.”

“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.

“He does.”

“And you still have it?”

“Her.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.

“She had no one else.”

John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.

“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”

“God, I hope not.”

Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”

John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.

“It will be fine.”

Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.

The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.

“I think you have been approved.”

John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.

“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.

“Incoming.” John was smirking.

“Hey, Grandma.”

But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”

Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”

Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.

“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”

Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”

Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.

A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.

Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”

“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.

Scott was glaring at him from a distance.

John smiled at them and drank his beer.

Bo started chewing on his collar.

-o-o-o-

As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.

Bo yipped.

Sherbert yapped.

And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.

Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.

But never out of sight of Virgil.

Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.

Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”

Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.

The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.

The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.

Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.

The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.

The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.

And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.

His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.

Scott sighed.

But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.

Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.

Scott found himself smiling.

Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.

Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.

The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.

Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.

But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.

They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?

He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.

Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.

Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...

Another sigh.

A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.

“Gordon!”

“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.

A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”

“Leave it, Gordon.”

His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”

“Gordon-“

“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.

“Gordon-‘

“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.

Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.

Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.

She jumped up and licked his nose.

Scott sighed.

Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”

Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.

“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”

He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.

“I really hope we don’t regret this.”

-o-o-o-

“PRESENTS!”

Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.

A sharp little bark.

Bo.

He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.

Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.

Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.

There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”

Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.

Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”

Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.

Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”

“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.

Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.

The result was immediate.

MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.

With Bo hanging on.

“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.

Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”

MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.

Virgil dashed after them.

Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.

All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.

A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.

Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.

“No!”

Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.

As he plummeted into the pool.

The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.

Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.

Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.

She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.

He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.

“You trashed the tree, Virg.”

“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.

And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.

-o-o-o-

“Only you, Virgil.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”

“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”

“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”

“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”

“You are still getting out of clean up.”

“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”

“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”

Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know that, Ow!”

“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”

“Bo ate one of my boots.”

Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”

“She’s a puppy.”

“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”

Bo yapped at him.

Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”

“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.

Ooookaay.

He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.

Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.

He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.

“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #christmas #nuttyfic reblog #bushfire warning for the first part #but mostly fluff

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faegoddessog · 1 year

Text

Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 40/41

Chapter 40: Mangoes and English Oak

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, fingering, sexual mangoes reference, Sex while eating, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll) female dominated PiV, Pinky and the Brain reference (lol)

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

Chapter 40: Mangoes and English Oak

Whatever it was that had been built between you seemed to evaporate with the mad fucking, the crying, the confessions and promises. Suddenly it’s like no time passed at all.

You two rummage in the kitchen, half clothed, pulling out what few things were there, clearly you need to hit the market. You nibble on toast with jam and tea with canned pears while leaning on the counter.

You talk about your travels here and how nervous you were feeling to see him again. He talks about how he was anxious to see you too. You both smile at how you felt the same way. It feels comfortable again, finally.

You hop up to sit on the counter kicking your shoes off, closer to his height now. You tell him you have 8-10 weeks, before going to begin the project for Tom and Rita.

“When you go, maybe we can visit on weekends?” he suggests.

“Oooo I like that, or meet in the middle, I do want to spend some time in France and Italy while I’m here,” you say.

“Oh I would love that! We could fuel the French rumors more!” he laughs.

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “We could really keep them guessing! Do we need to address that whole situation soon?"

He shrugs, "It's not really anyone else's business. Let them figure it out for themselves, it'll keep them busy."

You nod.

"Oh! By the way, Marissa called me last week. She wanted me to thank you for setting her up with Kate. She says it’s been a dream come true. I think she may actually be really good at it,” you smile at him.

He moves his body between your legs, sliding his hands to your waist. Your breath catches just a bit.

“It was my pleasure," he says, then hears what he said and who he said it to. He cracks a smile.

You can’t help but crack up, forehead to his chest, suddenly reminded of your inside joke about Chick-fil-A. He laughs too, putting his hand on the back of your head. "Do you suddenly feel like a sexy shower?"

"Pavlov says yes... but the shower here looks tiny," you retort looking up from his chest.

"We could always wait for a rain storm, I've always wanted to fuck in the rain..." he looks outside.

"Mmm, yes please, let's mastermind that" you say, rubbing up his chest to his neck and pulling him down for a slow kiss.

After a long minute. He breaks the kiss, rubbing your thighs.

“Do you know what your schedule will be like?” you ask, trying to handle the mundane in amongst the magical.

“We just finished our mini boot camp yesterday, so we have a couple days off. I am told we should be working only during the week, so weekends should be ours. We’ll see how true that’ll be.”

“It is ok if I stay here, right?” you realize that you hadn’t asked him at all, you just assumed.

“Oh my god Kitten, yes please. I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t. I need you all to myself for a while,” he wraps his arms around you rocking slightly side to side.

It’s amazing to be in his arms again, almost surreal.

“I’m all yours sweetheart, morning, noon and night,” you look up at him.

He smiles down at you. A wave of awe strikes you. This amazing man loves you. Your mind is pulled to the little black box. You dutifully shove it away, ‘everything in perfect timing’, you tell yourself.

“How long do you think Tom and Rita’s will take?” he asks, thinking about more time apart.

“Oh, geeze,” you reply, thoughts pulled back to the now, “I can't even guess until I see it. Honestly it will depend on how fast materials get there and since it’s on an island, that will be an interesting twist!”

“Then you’ll be done, huh, with your 7 continents,” Austin remarks, “then what?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, ”I suppose we will see what life lays at our feet.”

“Our feet?” he says with a smile, “I like the sound of that.”

“Of course baby,” you say snuggling up to him, “this, this right here is my dream now.”

“Oh Kitten,” he lets out a huge breath, his arms tightening around you.

He leans forward to kiss your sweet mouth. The light kiss expands into parted lips, while tips of tongues solicit for entrance. Every other thought melts away as his kiss deepens.

Kissing him feels like the oxygen you can’t live without. It’s like you’d been slowly suffocating for months without realizing it and now you can finally breathe deep.

He pulls back from you, looking into your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take you to the bedroom?” he asks in a slightly cautious, but sultry voice, “I think I’m ready to take my time sweetheart.”

You bite your lip and nod. A smile spreads across his lips, like he was worried you’d say no. Silly boy, like you could say 'no' to him.

He leans down and kisses your mouth. His hands glide down your back, snapping open the clasp on your red bra, almost as an afterthought. He pushes his hands between your ass and the cold tiles of the counter. He bends his knees and your legs wrap around his waist, your skirt bunched up around your hips. He pulls you onto him. Your arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, helping to hold yourself on his lean body. He has gotten stronger, you have too.

He carries you, kissing you gently, to the bedroom.

He lays you down on the side of the bed, your bra sliding off. His still undone jeans, underwear and shoes come off and he stands naked in front of you.

It feels like the beginning again, even though he fucked you silly an hour ago. That was different, full needy desperation and all the difficult emotions that had built up between you. But this: this is tender wanting, laced with love and all the feels.

Your knees fall slightly together as you bite your lip. Your eyes are slowly taking in his Adonis-like form from head to toe and back again. Just the sight of him standing above you makes a little moan escape from your lips. Fuck he is magnificent.

He leans down to the bed, one finger tracing up your leg, the hem of your skirt still up near your hips. Its drape drags lightly along your bare and sensitive pussy lips as he slowly pulls the fabric across and out of the way. The barest of shudders slides down your spine.

Then his knees are on the floor and his fingers are barely stroking your lips. He gently pulls your labia apart, stretching the skin around your clit just enough to make your inner lips contract. You inhale an audible gasp. Pushing them back together, his fingers squeeze gently on the outside, near the root of your clit, massaging back and forth. Wetness seeps from between your lips.

You blow out a little moan, fuck he remembers. He pulls you apart again, blowing on your clit. The cold air makes you whimper.

The tip of his tongue runs up and down the smoothness of your labia, teasing at what is to come.

He is definitely taking his time, lips nibbling and tongue licking slowly, but not touching your clit. Not yet.

Your breath quickens.

“Lord, I missed this,” he says, almost as a prayer.

Then his fingers pull you wider, open and exposed. The tip of his tongue touches your clit. You gasp as a zing jolts you. He blows on it, then touches it again. Pause. And again.

He is watching your reaction. His blue eyes peering over your mons with his tongue out long. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

This please. Yes, this please, forever.

Gradually his touches become tip-of-the-tongue undulations up and over your nub. Deeper, rolling his tongue farther down, down, down and into your entrance.

Your breath is shallow and fast, little moans escaping with each new sensation. Then his tongue ripples up against your inner lips. His mouth closes around your clit with pulsing suction.

“Oh my fucking god,” falls from your lips as you curl towards him, hands in his blonde hair, “did you get better at this?”

His eyes open to yours and you feel the vibrations of chuckle against your labia.

“Mangoes,” is all he says with a cock of his eyebrow and a lick of his lip. Then he dives back to the veneration of your cunt.

Thank fuckin’ mangoes! Is there a god of mangoes? Because you need to deliver upon them all your offerings and praise! All hail mangoes, and Austin's tongue!

He pulls your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly flicking back and forth, then suction again. His fingers slide so slowly inside you. He is moaning into your pussy. Your body is curled tight, flexing against his face. Then his fingers curl against your front wall and like a spring you uncoil, deep moans rumbling from your chest. The back of your hands beating the mattress.

Beautiful, sweet release.

He laps at your slit, drinking in all the juices that leak out as you shake on the bed. Then his comforting weight is on your heaving chest. You stare almost dumbfounded into his eyes. He pets your hair, moving it out of your face.

“Ready for more, my pet?” he asks.

You can only nod still panting from your orgasm.

His lip curls up in a tiny smile, his little dimple appearing over the left corner. His hips rock, his cock rooting gently around your snatch, begging to be let in. You lift ever so slightly, giving him room. Then he is barely in you, just an inch or so.

He freezes. Your hips strain up to his, getting him in you a scant inch further. He lifts back, teasing you. Your hips roll and you wrap your arms around him in an attempt to pull him to you. He refuses to let you.

“Oh my,” his voice deep and penetrating, “what a needy girl you are.”

“Uh huh” you nod.

“Do you need me in you?” he says, “is that what you want?.”

"Want, need,” you moan, “please, please yes.”

Slowly, he pushes himself into you. Every inch in and every inch out has your eyes fluttering and your body shaking. Then he stops, holding himself up on his elbows and toes, letting you rut up to him. Writhing against him, your body begs for more. You do your best to fuck yourself on his cock, but it’s not hitting right.

“Let me…,” you say, pushing him off and rolling him over. You stand between his legs which are bent off the bed, feet on the floor. You plant your right foot on the bed next to his hip, your knee bent almost to your shoulder.

Rising up on the toes of your left foot, you grab the base of his cock and sink down onto him with a groan. He can’t really thrust here more than flex his glutes. He smiles as you take charge.

You place your hands on his hip bones, hunching over him like a big cat getting ready to pounce. Your hips start rolling forward, tilting along his length, then pushing down and back in a slow steady rhythm. Each stroke rubs him along your g-spot.

Oh my god it feels so good to ride him like this, to work yourself back and forth on him, angling right where you want him to hit.

His thumb slides to your clit, giving you something more to rub against, something more to moan about. Your hips move a little faster, your orgasm building deep inside He is watching you grind yourself on his cock and hand.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he spurs you on, "god you are so hot.”

His other hand rises to rub his fingers across your nipples.

“Ohmigod, yes, play with them,” you start to flood his dick as the sensations from your nipple shoot right to your pussy. You are so close to unraveling on him.

“Oh lord, you are so wet, you are dripping down my balls,” he moans.

He pinches your nipple and for a split second it’s too hard.

“Not too…” you begin saying, then it unexpectedly pushes you that last tiny bit, “haaaaaa yes, fuck yes, fuck yes.”

You are exploding onto him, the contractions of your core riding him hard. You curl up over him, shaking with how good he is in you, riding the wave of your orgasm. You shake down to a stop, catching your breath.

“Oh gods, Kitten! Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” he begs. His fingers dig into your hips now, intent on pushing you back and forth on his cock. Fuck. You can’t leave him hanging.

“You like this,” you breath out, moving on him, “me mounting you this way, riding you? Yeah?”

“Yes, I do,” he moans, eyes closed, head tilted back. You had forgotten how sexy his neck was. You realize how dominating this position feels for you, you are in control, you have the power.

“You like it when I claim you?” your words coming out of their own accord in lieu of the moans of pleasure you feel bubbling up.

His head raises, lust shrouded eyes meeting yours. He nods, biting his lip. Fuck, if that’s what he wants… a slow smile sneaks across your face. You grind down on him. Shit it’s good, almost too good.

His eyes flutter closed.

“No, no, look at me Austin,” you tell him, pulling his chin. His eyes open, lost in sensation.

“You are mine. Your mouth is mine, your fingers are mine, your cock is mine, your cum is mine. I want all of you.” You put your hands on his chest, pushing him down, nails heedlessly digging into his skin, snapping your hips back and forth over him, overstimulating yourself in the best way.

“Oh fuck!” his pupils are blown, his heart is racing in his chest, he is close to spilling into you, “I’m yours baby, yours! All fucking youuuuur,” he groans out as his eyes roll back in his head. He is so hot when he cums, it sets you off again.

“Oh god Austin, yes, yes YES! ” your clit grinding on to the tight muscles of his lower abdomen as your internal muscles clamp down onto him. He groans, pleasure surging through you and through him. Your bodies are buzzing, vibrating together in shared bliss.

After you catch your breath, you climb off him and sit, leaning against the headboard. You spy the picture of you in your black dress in a frame on the bedside table. It makes your heart melt.

Austin curls up, head in your lap and his arms around your waist. You watch him breath for several minutes, his eyes closed and a relaxed smile touching his lips. He could be sleeping. Your fingers lightly connect the freckles on his left cheek in a curve then down his neck and arm.

“God I love you, Austin,” you whisper.

His smile broadens, not asleep. He turns his head to look up at you, his baby blues shining.

“I have never loved anyone like I love you, Kitten,” he says softly, finger tracing your jawline.

You stare at one another, lost in the quiet of the moment, lost in each other. You slide down next to him after several heartbeats, wanting to feel all of your body on all of his.

“This feels so good, so right,” you remark, snuggling close against him.

“Oh Kitten,” his palm is tapping his chest, “I didn't realize how much missing you weighed on me, how much it hurt. I’ve been living like that so long, the weight of it became normal.”

You nod, totally understanding what he means.

“I haven’t felt this good in months,” he says, ”and it just dawned on me that I don't hurt anymore.”

“Oh my love…” you move his hand and plant kisses on his heart, “never again.”

You spend the next several hours in the ebb and flow of one anothers embrace. You doze, you talk, you kiss, you slowly make love, you shower, you eat naked in the kitchen, you talk, your passion flares in a fiery kiss, you fuck hard, you eat again. In the wee hours of the night, you are both finally spent and curled up together. Just before you fall asleep, you press his hand between your thighs, cupping your mons. His fingertips lightly press against your labia. It’s oddly comforting. You smile and drift into a deep relaxed sleep.

………

You wake up the next day before he does. You sneak out and go buy groceries at the Sainsbury’s down the street. When you come back in, the house is still silent. You peek in and he is still dead asleep. Apparently, waking up early in distress was an Elvis shoot thing.

You had decided to make french toast when you were at the store. You even bought cream to whip, which you end up doing by hand because there was no mixer.

“Awoken by the whisk, I guess it’s better than the whip,” his deep voice resonates from behind you.

“Hey! Good Morning,” you turn around, whisk and bowl in hand. He is leaning against the door with only pajama bottoms on. He looks divine.

“Hungry?” you ask, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“For you? Always.” his hands come to your waist and pulls you into a passionate good morning kiss.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you say when your lips part.

“No, it was good,” his hands remain around your waist as you turn back to the counter to set down the bowl. “I was waking up already. When I realized you weren’t in bed, I almost had a panic attack thinking it was all a dream. Then I heard your racket in here.”

“My racket is almost done and is going to be delicious,” you smile, dipping your finger in the white creamy fluff and offering it to him over your shoulder, he slowly licks it off your finger. A little involuntary moan whispers from your lips.

“Mmm, that is good Kitten,” he says.

“Is it?” you dip your finger in again. Turning around, you wipe it on his chest, just over his nipple.

You lean forward, tongue out, flicking his nipple lightly as you lick up the slowly dripping vanilla flavored sweet cream. Then you cover his nipple with your mouth, gently sucking and biting.

When you pull away, he is watching you from lowered lashes.

“Mmm, is that how it is this morning?” he asks.

“With you? Always,” you nod, looking up at him, “take your pants off and go sit,” you nod your head towards the table.

A look of bewilderment flashes on his face, then he nods, untying the drawstring. Pulling his pants off right there, you see he is half hard.

“Go, I’ll be there in a minute,” you turn your back to him, un-doing the top several buttons on your blouse and kicking off your shoes.

“Yes ma’am,” he does as he is told, watching you.

You cut up some french toast into bite sized pieces, syrup, butter and whipped cream on them. You grate a little nutmeg and cinnamon on top. You grab one fork and bring a generous cup of tea. You walk over and set them on the table.

“Thank you,” says Austin, reaching for the fork.

You bat his hand away. “No, wait,” holding up a finger.

His look of confusion is priceless.

You pull his chair perpendicular to the table, so he is facing sideways. Stepping back, you slowly unbutton your jeans and make a show of taking them and your underwear off. You slide your hands into your blouse removing your bra in the mysterious way all women know and all men wonder about. You lean over him, giving him a generous view of your dangling breasts. You see he has gotten harder with your little strip tease.

Perfect.

His hands go instinctively to your hips as you lean further to kiss him deeply, passionately. Your hands slide around his neck and your legs open to straddle his lap, trapping his now hard cock against his belly. You pull away from his lips, kissing along his jawline and down his neck. His hand slides into your hair to the back of your head, pressing you to continue. His other is wrapped around the curve of your ass, pulling you closer to him.

“Are you hungry Austin?” you ask quietly, deviously. Your fingers slip the last button of your blouse out of its hole, exposing your front to him.

“Um… yes,” almost more question than statement. He is totally unsure of what is happening here, “but…and.. ”

His words hang in the air as you grab the cup of tea and pass it to your non-dominant hand. You pick up the fork, stabbing a piece of french toast. You offer it to him, letting him take the bite off the fork as you sip the tea. As he is chewing you rise up and sink your pussy over his cock. His eyes close for a second as he stops chewing to inhale through his nose.

You nonchalantly take another sip.

He swallows with a shaky breath.

You slide up and down slowly continuing to offer bites to him. His breath comes little moans as he keeps taking food off the fork.

You put the tea down.

Neither of you say anything, eating and fucking is all your brains can process at the moment.

Words would ruin it.

It’s unexpectedly erotic.

Thinking would break the spell.

He takes the fork from you, turning the tables. He offers, you chew. He flexes and pushes into you. Your eyes go wide, then your tongue rolls the flavors in your mouth, then you swallow as he pulls back.

Your breath comes out wobbly before he offers you a second bite. Again and again this slow fucking and feeding continues.

By the time the plate is empty, syrup, butter and whipped cream has dripped unheeded onto your tits due to his having to use his non-dominant hand. One drop is trailing dangerously close to your vulva. Remembering that you don’t like sugar there, Austin places the mostly empty plate on the chair next to him as you finish off the tea. As one motion he grips your ass, fixing you to him, and stands up, laying you back on the table, stopping the runaway drips of liquid sugar in their tracks. His cock pulls back as he slowly lowers his face to your vulva. He catches the drop and backtracks its pathway with a lapping tongue.

The empty tea cup slips from your fingers unnoticed.

He finds each drop of syrup, each plop of whipped cream and luxuriates in slowly licking each, nibbling his own path between each one. By the time he is done, your heaving chest tells him you want more.

He pulls back, double checking his work. He looks curiously at your breasts, realizing that they had been unsullied by thick, sweet fluid. Then he swirls his finger in the plate of cream and syrup, bringing up a creamy mix reminiscent of sweet cum. The idea of it being cum makes you want to tip the whole plate onto your chest.

You watch as he lets it drop onto a nipple, then offers it to your mouth. Greedily you suck on his finger, eyes closed. The taste makes you want to break your rules and coat yourself in it. When you open your eyes, he is watching you suck his finger, lips slightly pursed and blowing out a breath. You are guessing he’d like it all over his cock too.

He pulls his finger out and wraps his talented tongue around your nipple, holding your breast in his hand. He sucks it into his mouth, brushing the nipple with his tongue, holding it in a gentle bite with his teeth.

You moan, your clit throbbing all of a sudden. He pops it out of his mouth and works his way to your neck. With hands kneading and rubbing your breasts, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your neck. Goosebumps spring up along your arm and down your side. He pulls back, running a finger along the tiny pebbles, evidence of your arousal.

Then he is staring at your eyes, soft and full of desire at the same time. He leans down slowly and gently rubs his lips to yours, side to side. Not hesitant, but sultry. You coax him closer with your tongue darting out to touch his soft, full bottom lip. He slowly gives in to your lingual seduction, diving to deepen the kiss. Lips open, mouths press, tongues explore.

It’s hard to tell who is tempting who.

Before you know it, one hand is gripping the table edge next to your head, the other having trailed down your side, over your hip and under your ass. He lifts you just slightly, enough to give himself a straight route to your core. His mouth never leaves yours as he slowly presses into you.

A long whining moan resonates in your sinuses as he buries himself deep in your wet and wanting pussy. He takes his time to pull out, focusing more on devouring your mouth with his.

Then he thrusts in hard, using the table as leverage.

You gasp through your nose, vocal cords vibrating on the exhale, whimpering against his tongue.

Pulling out, his hand adjusts on your ass, almost massaging the flesh of your glutes. Then another hard thrust and his fingertips dig in.

God it feels so good, he is hitting you in all the right places inside.

He continues his pattern of kissing you while pulling out, and digging in his fingers while thrusting hard.

In this moment, he is beautifully masterful in his authority, his immense self control. His energy is all male, but not noxiously so. By taking his time, going slow, every thrust is slowly luring you, pushing you, enticing you to orgasm. Soon your hips are tilting up to meet his thrusts. His mouth leaves yours as he starts to moan in his own pleasure. He seems almost lost in place and time

He has you balancing on the head of a pin, for long minutes as he builds slowly.

Your breath is panting, despite the slow pace. Your hips are vibrating against him, wanting more, needing more. Just a little and you will fall apart.

He leans back, his other hand sliding under your ass. He stops for a moment, watching you squirm under him, a little decadent smile on his face. Your eyes are begging him, your hands are opening and closing, shaking, fingertips rooting at your teeth, not sure what to do with themselves.

With both hands digging into the muscles of your butt, he unleashes on you. Giving you everything you wanted and more.

Your hands fly to the edge of the table, holding on for dear life. The way his hands are digging, massaging into your ass feels exquisite, adding that much more to your orgasm. His cock is giving no quarter as it pummels into you.

The imagined weight of your eyes rolling back tilts your chin up, your throat vibrating with deep guttural groans. Sharp undulating waves roll up your spine, arching your back further and further up with each pass. Your whole body shakes with force of his hips. You ride the high as he rides you, deep and fast.

His scream comes from his gut; loud, resonant, primal. His hands squeeze deeper, pulling you onto him as he thrusts become hard and jerky, eyes closed and teeth bared. His breath holds as pushes deep with little thrusts, giving all of himself to you.

“Oh gaw,” bursts from him as the vacuum is released from his lungs. He stumbles a little against the table, lightheaded.

You pull him down to you, his torso laying on yours, his hands still trapped under your ass. Your chests heaving together, heavy breaths blow across your breasts.

Eventually he pulls his hands out from under you, standing upright. He helps you off the table, now messy with more than just syrup.

“Wow, sturdy table” he says, pulling you into his arms.

“Probably English Oak” you say without missing a beat.

You both giggle, still euphoric.

“Well, that’s one way to have breakfast,” he says.

“Right! It was freakin’ sexy though, more so than I thought it would be,” you admit.

“Yeah, I would’ve never thought to do that… but it worked. I don’t think anyone but you could pull that off though, further evidence that you are a sex magician, wait no, Enchantress” He smiles, remembering that night on the top floor of the Emporium.

“Fuck yeah!” you respond with a giggle, leaning in to gather a kiss from him.

“I’m actually still hungry,” you say, “shall we clean up the table and just like… eat?”

“Yes please! Can I have my own fork this time?” he asks with sly smile.

......

After second breakfast, Austin cleans the kitchen up while you go and actually unpack your bags. You are humming happily to yourself, hanging things up in the wardrobe, tucking things away. There is an antique vanity on the wall opposite the bed complete with a trifold mirror.

You figure you might as well use it for what it’s for and put your hair brush, makeup and brushes there along with what was left of the little bottle of essential oil Austin sent you. You also decide to be cheeky and artfully arrange your collections of vibrators and butt plugs there too, giving the blue sapphire one center stage. The whole thing makes you giggle out loud.

“What’s so funny,” Austin comes in, drying his hands on a kitchen towel he has slung over his shoulder. He’s, again only in his pajama bottoms.

“Tah Dah!” you say arms stretched out to your sex toy display.

“Oh geeze Kitten,” he chuckles blushing a little, “what if someone comes over?”

“Well, if they are invited to the bedroom, then they should know what they’ve agreed to,” you give him a sly smile.

He nods, deciding not to argue with your logic. “Well, in that case,” he walks over to a drawer in the dresser and pulls out his two hanks of black rope, the lube and his own set of butt plugs you bought for him. He hangs the rope from the corner of the mirror and puts the lube and plugs in amongst the arrangement. “There, no holds barred now!”

He grabs you in a huge hug, kissing your forehead.

“What are we going to do today Brain” you say in your best Pinky voice.

“The same thing we do every day Pinky,” he answers as Brain, without missing a beat, “try to take over the world!” He dramatically clenches his fist.

You both giggle, sharing the weird childhood memory.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” you say, sexily, leaning up to press your lips to his.

“I think so” his voice husky, his lips rubbing against yours, “but burlap chafes me so.”

You completely lose it, like in the absurd way that makes other people look at you like a loon. You are laughing so hard tears run down your face, you can’t breathe and you fall onto the bed.

Your ridiculous laughter makes him laugh too. Soon your bellies are sore and you are in a heap together on the bed, catching your breath.

His arms surround you. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months.

“I do want to play with you later today, if that’s ok,” he asks.

“Yes please, anytime is a good time for playtime. What do you have in mind?” you ask, cuddling up to him.

“I have some ideas taking shape, but I think you’ll have to just wait and see,” he says… kissing your nose.

“Oooo, antici……” you leave the word hanging.

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121

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blubushie · 2 years

Note

any bush stories you’d be interested in sharing?? Definitely not taking notes and using those said notes to help me better write sniper cough cough,, also genuinely interested!! Grew up in north-west wilderness and whatnot, would love to hear about what it’s like down in Australia!

I am genuinely honoured you're using me as inspiration! Here's some stories from Australia:

I've seen UFOs and other unexplainable lights multiple times.

Once when I was out in the bush I had a yahoo (basically Australian sasquatch) walk up to my camp. Scared me shitless, I screamed like a little girl, and then I threw the yam I was eating at him. He picked it up and walked off back into the bush. That happened almost three years ago and I'm not sure if my meat had gone bad and I was hallucinating but I told my Aboriginal mate about it and he just said I'm lucky the fucker didn't eat me because "They don't care for white fellas much."

Heard singing voices in an abandoned gold mine I was exploring like a dumb cunt. I ran out screaming when I heard a loud bang deeper in the mine.

Saw a bloke watching me from a window at Gwalia, which is an abandoned town with no residents (they all moved to nearby Leonora when the gold mine in Gwalia ran dry). I entered the home and no one was in there. Scared me shitless.

Once while camping near Uluru I had a young Aboriginal bloke (couldn't have been older than 16) walk up to me wearing nothing but a fucking loincloth in 4c weather. Keep in mind Uluru is fucking flat, there's no way this kid could have snuck up on me from 5 clicks away without me seeing him in the middle of the fucking night. He said he was from Anapala in South Aus (it hasn't been called Anapala since the 1970s when it was renamed Pukatja) and he had a Pitjantjatjara accent. He also had ritual scars on his arms which suggested he was a little older than he said he was. He said he hadn't eaten in a few days so I shared my rabbit with him. I let him sleep in my swag and when I woke up in the morning he was gone. No tracks, nothing. Disappeared into thin air. Absolutely convinced I met a fucking ghost.

Thought I was going to be eaten by a dropbear once. It was a flying fox. Still feel like an idiot for that one.

Found the tracks of a large cat (puma-sized, as wide as my palm) alongside a streambed in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. They were fresh tracks since it rained a day earlier. I felt like I was being watched and got the fuck out of there.

I was chased 10km through Boulia by the Min Min Lights. I'm driving down the highway and there's these fucking lights behind me, I floor it because I think it's the cops, they keep following, Matilda's engine starts smoking so I pull over because I'm not going to blow my van's engine. Finally I pull over and the lights are just hovering about three metres off the ground, these fiery orbs. Scared me half to death and I got back in Matilda and kept driving. Eventually the lights just fizzled out and disappeared. I've only been back to Boulia once and I was on guard the entire time.

Once was surrounded by a pack of dingos (4-5 individuals) for an entire night. I had my rifle across my lap and my knife ready. Didn't get a wink of sleep. It's terrifying when you're the prey for once.

Had to bandage my arm with the rag I use for wiping down my rifle because a blackheaded python slithered into my engine in WA and snapped onto my arm when I tried lugging it out in the morning. I've since gotten a new rag for the rifle.

Woke up one morning to Misty going off like a frog in a sock. Turns out I had a bandy-bandy in me fucking swag. That was fun trying to get it out (bandy-bandys are elapids related to cobras, but their small fangs and low venom output means they're one of Australia's least deadly venomous snakes).

Stepped on an eastern brown while hunting in QLD. Leather boots saved me life. The fact I don't take Misty with me when I hunt saved hers.

Back in January I fell out of a tree while hunting, landing on my back, and pissed blood for a week. Figured I'd either be fine or lose a kidney. Honestly I've fallen out of trees more times than I can count. Eucalyptus doesn't hold weight very well.

Two years or so ago I was bitten by a metre-long saltwater crocodile while helping biologists do a survey in Kakadu. I've still got the scars on my left arm from where the cunt grabbed me. Little shit.

Got me foot stomped by a cow while helping a mate muster cattle.

Watched Polly up in Daly Waters kick a cunt once during a pub brawl that made it outside.

Had my hat chewed on by Blackface at that same pub. The hat escaped unscathed.

Once got into a tug-a-war over a pig I shot with a fucking perentie. Took me twenty minutes to trek up to where the pig was and when I got there the fucking perentie had its head buried up to its shoulders in the bloody carcass. The perentie didn't bite me but Lord knows it tried.

Burned my chest when a spent casing ejected and landed in my fucking shirt. I'm left-handed and shoot left-handed. My rifle is impossible to find with a left-handed bolt, so the casings eject across my body instead of away from me, and it landed in my shirt. I now wear undershirts when I work because that shit hurt. Thankfully it didn't leave a scar.

Nicked my wrist on the broadhead of an arrow once by accident.

Before I got my boots I had a piece of razor wire wedge itself into my shoe and slit my ankle open. It got infected, of course. Cleaned it with whisky and spent the next five minutes swearing a blue streak. It healed but I've got a scar.

Stung by a jellyfish on my hand when I was a kid. Did it again on my foot a few years ago. Luckily no scars, just felt like a massive bee sting.

Every time I hit a bump while driving I have some dust come down from the roof from a few years ago when I accidentally left a window cracked during a dust storm.

Was in WA when it snowed in 2021 during the night. Went to bed freezing and woke up to a white blanket.

Was tackled by a kangaroo while hunting once.

Got my name because I was a dumb cunt and went bushwalking and didn't bring enough water. I was dying of dehydration and living off nothing but bugs and my own piss for two days. Finally found a pond of the clearest water you'd ever see. Drank probably 3 litres, refilled my canteens. Had complete ego death and I walked out of the bush as a new person with a new name.

Once in the middle of the night up in Kakadu I was just sitting at my campfire as blokes do, it was foggy as shit, and out of the fog walks the most beautiful horse I've ever seen. This bastard was snow white with the prettiest brown eyes. He walks up to my fire, snorts, sniffs around at my tuckerbag, looks at me, and then just walks off back into the fog. Brumbies are fucking skittish so it was a magical moment.

Had a kookaburra steal a piece of jerky right out of my hand.

Dingos. So many dingos. Once shot a dingo in NSW—terrible shot on my part, I still feel terrible for it. The wind was higher than I would've liked and the bullet ended up too far back so it wasn't an immediate kill. His mates came over to check out the row and I watched through my scope as they started ripping him apart. I put another bullet in him because nothing deserves that. The second shot didn't miss.

Been in more pubfights than I can count. I don't start them.

Stepped on a kangaroo eyeball once by accident. Scrub your boots when you're done hunting because nothing will get the smell of summer-baked kangaroo brains out of your house.

Once killed two roos with one bullet.

CALIFORNIA: When I was eight years old my dad and I were hunting in NorCal and it'd rained the night before. We came across a streambed (keep in mind this was -2c weather) with footprints in it. These footprints were massive, about 40cm from heel to toe and wide as sin. They were accompanied by much smaller footprints about half that length. There's no way in hell someone with 40cm feet would be out there in -6c weather WITH A CHILD walking BAREFOOT through freezing water 8km from the nearest road between the time it rained (which would've washed away any prints) and sunrise. Dad and I found them at sunrise. Both of us are convinced we found fucking bigfoot footprints.

CALIFORNIA: Was stalked by a mountain lion for 1.5km.

#blu whos #blu bushie

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riveramorylunar · 1 year

Text

Full Name: Valentina Serenity Cornell

Species: Hybrid (Vampire/Fallen Angel)

Birthday: 10/31/1998

Birth Place: France, Paris

Age: 25

Gender: Female Intersex

Sexuality: Lesbian

Height: 5'11

Relationship Status: Single

Hair Color: Purple and Black

Eye Color: Ice Blue

Features: Fangs, Slit Eyebrow, Pale Skin, Two Scars on face, Retractable Wings, Glasses, Curly Hair, Abs & 6 Tattoos.

Favorite Food: Ratatouille and Piperade

Favorite Drink: Alcoholic- Champagne or Jacqueline, Non-Alcoholic- Hot Chocolate or Black Coffee

Favorite Desserts: Chocolate Tartlets with Candied Grapefruit Peel & Raspberry Clafoutis

Favorite Hobbies: Painting & Cooking/Baking

Favorite Colors: Purple and Navy Blue

Favorite Scents: Rain, Mint & Sage

Favorite Flowers: Hibiscus, Iris & Rose

Favorite Gemstone: Amethyst

Favorite Styles: Biker, Elegant & Formal

Fun Facts About Her:

1. She's an Artist and a Chef/Baker.

2. She got her scars when she was 5 when she escaped a facility that experimented on creatures and humans.

3. She's done all of her tattoos herself.

4. Has visited a lot of places like Rio, Iceland, Canada, Texas, Russia, New Zealand, California, Mexico, China, Peru, Brazil, Australia, Egypt, South Africa, Sweden, Greenland & Georgia.

5. She has souvenirs from every place she went to.

6. Has a Black Cat named Onyx and a blue Siberian Cat named Ash. She also has a blue and tan dachshund named Dixie. And she has a sable named brownie.

7. She speaks French, English, Russian, Mandarin, Arabic, Portuguese, Spanish, Icelandic, Greenlandic, Swedish & Afrikaans.

8. Got adopted by a nice family of 5. Has 1 older sibling and 2 younger siblings. Has a father and mother.

9. A loner and doesn't have many friends. Only has one friend who was experimented on like her.

10. Loves to wear both dresses and suits. She always wears her leather jacket though and her one biker glove. Wears combat boots with everything whenever she goes out.

11. Absolutely loves flirting with shorter girls and loves to see them blush.

12. She has a slight rasp in her voice

13. She loves Halloween and Valentine's Day the most. Her third favorite holiday would be Christmas.

14. She had top surgery because she did not like her chest at all. Sometimes she forgets she had top surgery and would sometimes put a bra on before realizing she has a flat chest now.

15. She loves listening to all kinds of music

What she looks like: (don't know if I'm going to color her yet or not)

#River's Ocs #river talks🌊

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the-heaminator · 10 months

Note

Winter prompt 1 anything with Canada not needing the coat!

what do you mean you 'don't need a coat'???"

I need more putting Jack in the cold and watching him suffer while Matthew is in his natural fucking habitat, its platonic if you don't mind.

It was snowing outside, and a pretty type of flurries, it had already packed onto the ground beforehand, so it was a bit of a difficulty to get out of the house because of the snow, Matthew was just outside in a sweater while Jack looked like he had just come out of Antarctica, not Canada, to him both would have felt the same.

“What do you mean you don’t need a coat? It's colder than a witches tit out here!” Matthew could have laughed at him, oh you sweet summer child, it was only like -5 degrees

“Jack, I think you are just a lizard, nobody else is that cold, fuck, even Arthur isn’t cold and he is built like a damp matchstick.”

“I ain’t no lizard, just cold.”

Jack was, no shit, wrapped up in two jumpers and a jacket, and a hat, to save those sticking out ears of his, one of the jumpers was his, the other he had nicked off Matt, everyone loved stealing his jumpers ‘cause they were by far the most comfortable, and the biggest, Matthew was a big dude, tall and wide, man ate well and it showed, maybe that was why he wasn’t cold. The hat Arthur made, honestly he was fiddly little man and it came out in the way that he crocheted like a madman, that was useful right now, because his ears were so cold.

Didn’t help that December in Australia was the hottest part of the year, at this time he was usually slightly moist on a beach trying not to overheat, not trying not to freeze in the bloody Canadian winter, he wanted to hibernate, a very odd thing for him to do considering he had about as much energy as the sun, but even the sun was hiding today, behind steely grey clouds, and the air was cold, so very cold, it hurt to breathe man, he should have worn that bloody scarf.

He was a surly little thing when it was cold, he always had been, the dampness of England used to get to him like it used to get to books, making him damp and limp and sad, he disliked it severely, this was a drier cold, but it was also a much colder cold, and instead of being damp and limp, now he was cold and frozen and a bit frostbitten. Matthew was vibing, Arthur was bundled up but was moving around like a midget with a mission, the smaller you were, the more heat you lost, so logistically he should have lost the most heat.

But there was also the fact that he was a cold little bastard to begin with, he didn’t produce his own heat anyways, if anyone was a lizard it was him. Bullshit, but even he seemed just fine, Matthew was still literally just wearing a jumper, Alfred was wearing a jumper and gloves because while he was an idiot, he did like having his fingers intact, Matthew seemed not to care, his fingers would regret this, to Jack at least they most certainly would.

Alisdair, much like Arthur, was also wrapped up warm, but nothing like Jack, both were just about wearing a jumper and a coat, Alisdair was wearing wellies, a name that Matthew and Alfred found immensely funny, Jack called them gummies when he wanted to, so did Eli, but fucking rain boots was just boring, though admittedly if said in a rush or with an accent wellies very much morphed to someone saying willy, which was always funny to hear.

Anyways. Jack was cold. Matthew was seemingly immune to the cold, and he got hit in the face with a fucking snowball.

Matthew wasn’t wearing gloves how hadn’t his fingers frozen what the fuck, Jack would have been more agile had he not sort of dug himself a few inches into the snow by his incapability to stay still, and what happened was that he got a faceful of snow, fell down, and then got filled with the unimaginable rage of 20 suns and started chasing after Matt, then Matthew knew he was fucked, Jack was so much faster than him, Matthew used to be a hell fo a lot more agile but he had put on a whole lot of weight in the past couple decades and was no longer as agile as he could be.

Also regardless of how agile you were you could not outrun Jack on a fucking mission, and with some difficulty and a lot of slipping and sliding he managed to get his frigid ass to Matt and knock him over, he got a face, and a body, full of snow.

Alfred, not being one to let a chance to be a fucking dumbass go untaken decided to get involved, and dumped a whole armful of snow on the both of them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend so Matt and Jack had a momentary truce as they went after Alfred. Boys will be Boys despite them being a couple hundred years old.

Arthur and Alisdair were standing a bit off from this whole farce, both chainsmoked like a chimney, and they were doing just that, don't ask me how they managed to light them because I genuinely do not have a clue, regardless of how frozen their joints were at the moment, the compulsion to join them was so goddamn strong.

They were civilised but only barely and very few can resist the urge to throw a snowball at a sibling, and those two were no exception.

"CATCH THIS YOU FUCKING CUNT."

Alisdair got a mouthful of questionable snow.

Arthur was faster than Alisdair but Alisdair had longer legs so this could be anyones guess, everyone was dogpilling snow on Jack and he was pretending to die. Alisdair had flipped Arthur till he was on the snowy ground, winded since he slammed him into it, and then started putting snow down his shirt.

The other 3 were watching because holy shit that was so fucking evil, and then they got back to covering Jack in snow.

He groaned and started to read his will. Not that he had a will. Being functionally immortal and all. But he did. And very dramatically so.

He was loud naturally, and Eleanor could record what he was saying from inside, all cozy and warm, recording them being fucking idiots, watching Arthur and Alisdair was interesting tik because there there may have been malicious intent.

"And I hereby relinquish my house to the lizards~" and then he mock died, went all rigid in a way that didn't happen until rigor mortis set in, and even from a distance she could see him still breathing.

Matthew and Alfred tried to look solemn, and both were failing severely, they lifted Jack on their shoulders like they would carry a corpse on a stretcher, Jack was taller than Alfred but shorter than Matthew, and Matt had 4 inches of height on Alfred's 5'11, so Jack was a bit crooked held.

He didn't move until they had gotten his wet clothes off him and swaddled him in blankets like a baby. Arthur had kicked Alisdair in the chest and bolted so he could get the bloody snow out of his chest ahhhhh he was so cold, he weighed all of 110 pounds and really did not have the insulation to stay warm, after a quick check in on Jack, who looked ready to pass away, he decided that now would be a good time to hog the radiator.

Eli was the only one who wasn't at least a bit cold, Matthew was minimally cold, bloody polar bear of a man as he was, Alfred was cold enough that he had also decided that the radiator was a good idea but got scared away from the one Arthur was on because he hissed at him and he did not want to deal with that at the moment.

Alisdair had also buried himself in blankets after getting out of his wet clothes, since he got far less snow on him he was a lot faster to warm up and he could produce his own heat, unlike Arthur.

Eli was completely warm and dry, she was the one who was the beholder of brain cells today and decided not to go outside, and smack Matthew over the head for leaving the door open for a couple milliseconds, she was cold dammit.

Seeing Jack shiver in a pile of blankets was an experience in it's own, and decided, as is her way, to pretend to be a natural geographic producer.

"Here we see one of the different subspecies of Kirkland, this subspecies lacks the ability to thrive in cold climates, and had lowered his defences, and does the distress call of a far younger specimen." That distress call being asking anyone who would listen for tea, strong and sweet and most importantly, scalding fucking hot.

Arthur had unwrapped himself from the radiator and had absorbed enough heat to function and stop his muscles being too stiff to move, he also needed tea to function.

"Oi, who wants tea?"

Everyone but Alfred immediately said yes, who then said yes afterwards because well, it couldn't hurt, and it would make him a bit warmer.

Eli continued "As is custom for these creatures, the distress call of a juvenile causes the coddling by much older members, and one of the most notable comforts that they provide, is a mixture of various herbs and leaves, steeped in hot water, with milk and sugar, almost all subspecies have a fondness for this, save for one," she was referring to Alfred "Who, while not as fond if it as the rest, will still not reject it if given to them."

She watched and recorded the various sighs of contentment as warm tea got into them from various people she was recording all of this "As you can see, this mixture creates the release of dopamine in these creatures stronger than most, myself included." Arthur was fussing over her as much as his pride would let her, and practically forced a mug of tea into her hands.

"And with that, I shall leave, we will be back tomorrow to see what happens when you underfeed some of them." She was only saying that because she noticed that neither Alfred nor Matt had eaten in a while, a while as in a good 14-16 hours, that was fine for the oldest of the species, they were used to a whole lot less, but not feeding Alfred and Matthew made them so incorrigibly grumpy that it was funny.

#Hws canada #hws australia #Hws England #hws scotland #Hws new Zealand #The heam writes #Hetalia

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