#this was supposed to be a quick practice and got massively out of hand

[icarianstars]

Twisswald eye studies

[peachesofteal]

Home

Part of the Sassy series.

Simon Riley/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. PTSD. Emotional hurt/comfort. Relationship issues. Feelings of sadness, anxiety, fear. Mention of attempted suicide. Alcohol use. Tenderness. Simon is soft for you. Simon is a good dad. The 141 is a found family trope. Angst with a happy ending. The gang's all here. Lots of crying. Home.

>You need to come down to the pub.  >What? >Simon’s in bad shape.  >It’s hardly noon?  >Just get down here, Sassy.

The text from Price has you walking briskly down the street within a minute, jittery with nerves and heart racing in your chest. The pub is not a long walk, the shortest route is east two blocks, south two blocks, and a quick left turn into the pedestrian alley that runs between two large brick buildings, to where the red painted door is nestled in off the street.

It’s not a long enough walk at all, because it hardly gives you enough time to collect your thoughts. Your feet fly over pock marked asphalt, anxiety shifting around in your mind, finding the softest pieces of your brain to sink its teeth into and derail you. He’s okay, he’s just drunk. He’s okay, he’s just drunk. He’s not hurt. He’s fine. 

You’re practically vibrating with nerves. Your body feels uncontained, unbound by laws and physics, like you could fall apart completely at any moment. Rip apart at the seams and disappear into nothing, never to be seen or heard from again.

It was a struggle, in the next moment, to not follow that previous thought up with ‘maybe it’d be better.’ 

You weren’t allowed to say those things out loud anymore. Or, so says your therapist. You weren’t supposed to think your family would be better off without you, this shell of a human that is neither a mother or a wife now, just a skeleton, just a nervous system, just a heart and a brain.

You grit your teeth.

You are still you. You are strong. You are a mother. You are a wife. You are loved. You are worthy of being loved. 

You fight the eyeroll and repeat it on top of your other mantra for good measure.

Theo is okay. Simon is okay. You’re home. There is no danger. There is nothing to fear.

When you get to the pub’s front door, you stop for a second and stare at it.

Your hands shake on the handle.

There is no danger. There is nothing to fear. You are still you. You are worthy of being loved. 

“What’re you doing ‘ere?” Simon slurs, and you chew on the inside of your cheek while Price stands opposite you, adjacent to the drunk man’s shoulder.

“Sassy’s going to take ya home.” Price explains gently, and Simon shakes his head furiously, eyes slamming shut like he’s suddenly been blinded by the sun.

“No.” He vows. You fight to keep your voice even when you try to reassure him.

“Si. Hey, it’s okay, you’re just-“

“No, Sass.” His fingers curl around the small glass that’s filled to the brim with bourbon, before he throws it back and wipes his lips on his sleeve. “Price’ll take me home. Go on.” The directive cuts, but you swallow the hurt down. You put him here. You did this. 

“I can’t, mate. Got to meet the wife down the street for an appointment.”

"I can't go with 'er." He snaps, and you try not to choke the saliva that's building in the back of your throat with your nausea. Price looks at you over Simon’s slumped posture, mouthing something that looks like: ‘it’s okay, call the cab’, and you manage it in record time, the tracker on the screen showing a black vehicle pulling down the street a minute later. Your hands are still fucking shaking, and you can’t stop them, can’t do anything with them except hold them together in hopes they’ll keep you from falling apart.

“Okay Si, come on.” You’ve managed to get him out of the car, and into the house, but he’s fading fast. The irritation from earlier settling into drunk sleepiness, draining some of that tension that he’s always carrying from his body. You shift him so that he’s leaning on you, his massive weight nearly bowling the two of you over as you encourage him to take the step up. “Help me out.”

“Wy’re you here?” He slurs and you grimace, pressing your thigh into the back of his knee so it bends forward and then up to the next step.

“This is ou- my house.” Our house. It wouldn’t have been a lie, wouldn’t have been anything but the truth, if you had said it. Instead, you bit your tongue just in time. “Can’t take you to yours because you’ve drank the city dry of Kentucky bourbon, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Always ‘lone now.” He mumbles and you feel the burn of tears in your nose, under your lashes. Don’t fucking cry. “Ya shouldn’t be here.” He protests as you walk next to him, step by step, your arm wrapped as much as it can be around his waist.

“It’s okay, come on.” You heave him up the last stair to the landing, where you keep your hands on his hips and steer him towards the bedroom.

For a split second, you consider trying to push him towards the guest room but disregard the notion as soon as it comes. He won’t be comfortable in there. The bed’s too small. Don't want him to wake up confused either. He grunts when you herd him towards the master. Master bathroom is better. That way he won’t wake Theo if he gets up in the middle of the night to puke. 

You manage to nudge him into the bed, heaving his legs onto the mattress and stripping his giant boots off, throwing them haphazardly in the corner while you glance at the bedside clock. Almost time for pick up. 

“Our room.” He blinks, arm stretching across towards the middle, towards the side you always sleep on, the side you still sleep on.

“Yeah. Thought you’d be more relaxed in here.” You explain, tugging and pulling at the sheets. He’s so heavy, like dead weight against the fabric, but you don’t want him to be uncomfortable, and the sheets are knotted together under his back. His head lolls, body full of slack, blissfully unaware, floating high on a river of Kentucky bourbon and he looks like he’s about a minute from falling asleep. A tidal wave of longing sweeps through you, everything yearning to curl up into his side, bury your face in his neck and listen to the sound of his breathing.

You can’t. You ruined it. You ruined everything. Again. 

“My sweet girl.” His thumb sweeps across your cheekbone and you can’t help but lean into it, close your eyes and take a lungful of air. “Don’ cry.” He croaks and you manage a smile, a small one, mostly for his benefit.

“I’m okay.” You try to reassure him, his brow crinkling in the center like it does when he knows you’re lying and he’s about to call you out on it. You wipe your face with the back of your hand and glance at the clock again. Shit. “Si, I have to go get Theo, I want you to try to get some rest.” He stays quiet for a while, eyes drooping before he agrees half-heartedly.

“Right, I’ll be ‘ere then.” He shifts, rolling partially on his side, and yanks your pillow into his arms, folding it down into his body until his chin is resting on it. You don’t move from his side until his eyes start to slip closed, the dizzying rhythm of drunken sleep pulling him under, and when you finally stand so you can go get Theo, you can’t help but lean over his shoulder and press a feather light kiss to his temple. I love you; you think. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. 

Theo is, as always, pleased to see you on the sidewalk after the bell rings, his voice vibrating with excitement as he goes through his day, telling you about the things his friends did and the stuff his teacher said.

When you get about two blocks away from the house, you stop and he looks up at you in confusion, face creased in the center of his brows, the spitting image of his dad. You sigh, and squat down so you’re just about eye level. “Theo, I need your help with something when we get home.”

“Kay mum?”

“We need to be really quiet when we get home, okay? Dad is-“

“Daddy’s home?” He squeaks with glee, eyes wide and excited. Shit. Fuck. Shit. 

“Daddy’s home but he’s sick… so he’s asleep. To help him get better we need to be quiet so he can sleep, right?” He nods, and you know he understands. “Okay. Maybe we can watch a movie in the living room with our snack instead of playing in your room, yeah?” He agrees wholeheartedly, and you melt a little. He’s so kind, so patient. Such a sweet boy, and you don’t think it has anything to do with you at this point. You consider yourself lucky he’s so resilient, because you’ve already gone and screwed up half of formative years.

When he gets to the front door, he puts his finger in front of his lips and makes a ‘shhh’ sound, the little gesture showing you that he remembers what the two of you discussed and you melt even more.

He’s definitely getting ice cream tonight.

The morning comes too soon. You spent most of the night awake after managing to get Theo in a bath without causing a huge ruckus and putting him to bed, agonizing on having to face Simon, who may or may not even try to slip away undetected. Not to mention, the three of you have dinner at the Price’s tonight, since Johnny is in town, and it will be the first time you’ve seen Kyle in months. You’re already anxious about that, on top of everything. Your nerves feel rubbed raw.

Your brain didn’t let you sleep, not fully, instead choosing to free fall through memories like you were watching a movie, bits and pieces of your entire life playing out in your mind like you were sitting in a dark theatre with a bucket of popcorn.

The first time you met Simon, the confusion over the skull that seemed so familiar, your brain automatically linking it to Mace’s and dousing you in nervous fear. 

The first time he refused to show you his face. The first time you refused to give him your name. 

The moment you saw him in the bathroom, felt the magnetic pull like magic. The time you caught him watching you, standing outside of the safe house, face tilted up towards the rain. 

When he showed up at your house with a battered ultrasound photo and your name on his lips.

When you held his baby, your son, in your arms for the first time while he cried and kissed you over, and over. 

The day you said yes to marrying him, when he got down on one knee in the nursery, hands shaking with nerves. 

Sleep is brief. You’re half-awake on the couch, listening for any sound from either of them, staring at the floor while the rising sun casts shadow across the hard wood.

You hear the creak of heavy feet on the stairs, the hesitancy of someone standing at the top, unsure if they should come down.

What are you going to say when he does? What could you possibly say that would make any of this better?

Hey, I’m sorry I had a panic attack and abandoned you after we touched each other for the first time in almost a year. 

Hey, I’m sorry I freaked out and left which caused you to spiral into a bottle. 

Hey, I’m sorry I’m still a fucking nightmare that doesn’t actually deserve you. 

“Morning.” He calls, and you turn to see him at the bottom of the steps, walking towards the chair next to the couch, the giant one that’s got an imprint of his body in it.

“Hey, morning.”

“You get any sleep?”

“A little.” The living room goes deathly silent, and you sit up, crossing your legs in front of you to face him. Say something. Say anything. 

“Look, I-“ you start.

“Sass-“ and so does he. The two of you stop as soon as you realize you’re talking over one another.

“Sorry, you go ahead.” You follow up lamely, lip tucked between your teeth. He sighs, long and low.

“I’m sorry, you had to… deal with that. With me. Like that.”

“It’s okay. Not the first time I’ve seen you in rough shape.” You try to tease him, try to lighten the giant storm cloud that is bearing down on the two of you, but it doesn’t work. He grimaces instead. Smooth. You curse yourself. “I uh. Didn’t mind. It felt kind of… nice. To do something for you.” He raises an eyebrow, and you shrug. “You’re always taking care of me, you know?”

“You’re my priority-“ a bedroom door creaks upstairs, followed by the sound of little thundering footsteps, and you feel a pang of regret. Of all times to wake up early, baby. You can't fault him too much, he's so excited to see his dad. “you, and this guy.” He smiles across the room to where your baby stands with his blanket tucked in his hands, still in his pjs with a sleepy smile. “C’mere, bug.” Simon pats his thigh and Theo runs, scrambling up onto the chair and nestling into his dad, eyes still wearing their crust of sleep, hair all a mess.

“Breakfast?” you ask and Theo nods into Simon’s chest.

“Pa’cakes?” he asks hopefully, and you laugh.

“Sure, bug.” Simon looks at you over his head. “Will you stay?” you ask, trying not to let any emotion slip into your voice. It’s his choice. Don’t pressure him. He needs to be comfortable. 

“Of course.”

He stays all day. You don’t intend for it to happen, but it does, and you don’t complain. The two of you dance around the other night gracefully, but it doesn’t feel awkward or awful. It feels… okay. Normal. Without the elephant in the room, you could almost close your eyes and imagine this as before, and your willingness to relax and enjoy their company, together, without getting lost in your own head, is something you’ve been working diligently on thanks to Dr. C.

It feels good. It feels good, when you settle Theo in his room to watch a movie while you figure out his dinner before dinner, just in case he decides to be picky later. It still even feels good when Simon asks you if you want a glass of wine before you start getting ready for said dinner, because he can tell you’re nervous, and you actually say yes without feeling guilty. It all feels great, until it doesn’t, and your little bubble pops.

“Do ya want to talk about the other night?” Fuck. 

“Sure…” you taper off and he sits back in the chair, watching you with a scrutinous gaze, the one you’ve seen dozens of times, but not usually in your home.

“It’s important… that we’re honest with each other,” he says, and a knot twists in your stomach. He rubs the back of his neck anxiously, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I need you to… acknowledge. What happened. I need to talk about it with you.”

“Okay.” You rush out. “I’m sorry… the other night, I- I made a mistake.” It’s the wrong thing to say. The words themselves are an error, and his face shutters, the beginning process of him shutting down taking over his body, his mind. No no no. 

“A mistake.” He repeats and you shake your head vigorously.

“No, no. Not like that I didn’t mean… please. I don’t… I don’t know how to feel or say things the right way anymore and my head has been so messed up, but I swear I… I want to try. I want… this marriage. I want us.” You’re crying earnestly now, tears dripping down your face, nails clenched into your palms so hard it burns. “And I… I wanted to take it slow.” He nods thoughtfully but stays silent. “I lost my head, the other night and rushed into things without really thinking.” Why isn’t he saying anything? “You were not a mistake Simon, I swear. You’ve never been a mistake to me.” You gasp the last sentence, throat raw with your tears and your eyes clench shut, hands going slack. Your chest is tight, it’s so tight and the air feels thin, and… you’ve completely ruined this, again, it’s all you ever do now, is ruin things. You ruined your family, ruined your son’s life, ruined Simon’s life, ruined everything. 

“Hey, hey.” You hadn't noticed, but his hand now curls around yours, pressure steady against where your pulse hammers under your skin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “But we need to talk, Sass. Actually talk. Talk about where you are, how you’re feeling. Talk about a way to move forward.”

“Okay.”

“And I need to be honest with you about something. What happened the other night… it can’t happen again. I-“ He looks down to his feet. “I had a panic attack, after you left. I thought I was dying, I can’t… I can’t do that again. I have to be able to be present.” He doesn’t let go of your hand, but his grip slackens a little, and you feel your heart ripping into two pieces. Oh, Si. What have you done? “If I can’t be present, then I can’t take care of you, or Theo, or make sure nothing happens to the two of ya and I have to be able to-“ He abruptly stops, choking on the last sentence, and you watch as he straightens himself, twisting his back and rolling his neck. You stand, reaching for him, a tentative, seeking hand tracing along his forearm.

Asking for permission.

Asking for forgiveness.

Asking for everything.

He gives it to you. You fall into his arms easily, curling yourself into his lap, and he buries his face in your hair, shuddering breaths the only sound in the room, the only way you’d be able to tell he’s trying to compose himself. He dwarfs you, his embrace swallowing you up easily and you close your eyes, holding him as tightly as possible. You did this. You’ve let him down. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper and he shakes his head. “I am, I… I am, Si. I'm so sorry.”

“I know.” He answers, a hand smoothing over your hair and then down your back. “I know you are, sweet girl.”

You check the door lock four times, while Theo jumps from crack to crack in the sidewalk and Simon watches him carefully. The sun is starting to set, casting a orange pink glow over the street, lamps just starting to flicker on across the way, the sound of people out and about in the nice weather bouncing off the brick.

“Ready?” he asks, reaching for the bag on your arm. You nod, but reach out to grab his wrist when he turns to head down the block.

“I uh. I’m-“ you think you might be sick, and faint at the same time. You feel too warm in clothes, cold in your skin. You feel unsettled. Volatile. Why is this so hard? 

“What is it?” He’s gentle, voice soft and coaxing, and you try to smile and reassure him, but it comes out wrong, lopsided and nervous. You can do this. Just ask him. Today was mostly great. He’s not going to reject you. 

“I… was going to ask if you… if you wanted to come home with us tonight? After dinner.” His eyebrows raise, and something dark flashes across his face, something guarded.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Not for… that. Not for sex.” Jesus Christ. “I um… I thought maybe we co-could sleep together.” Oh my god. You’re blowing it. You feel like you might vomit all over his shoes. “Just sleep. In our bed. Together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… yes. I want to if you want to.” He’s silent for a long time, practically eternity, before he steps forward, and presses the lightest kiss to the top of your head.

“Okay, Sass. I want to.”

“Bloody hell. Feels like I haven’t seen ya in years.” Kyle pulls you into a hug and you laugh, head tipped back, pure joy on your face. You really did miss him.

“You look fit, Gaz.” You quip, and he preens just a bit. Simon scowls and raises an eyebrow from behind him. Price shakes his head like he’s already exasperated with the lot of you.

“Alright, alright. Stop hoggin’ the lass.” Soap shouts, elbowing him out of the way, and when he pulls you in for a hug, you’re not surprised there are tears smarting behind your eyes. Get it together. 

“Hey, Johnny.” You hold him back, arms wrapped around his waist, and he gives you a squeeze before pulling away.

“Hey Sassafras. You well?” He glances at Simon, and then back to you. It has not escaped anyone that the three of you arrived here together. You nod, and he smiles. “Where’s my nephew?” He half yells, because Theo is half hiding behind Simon’s legs, a little overwhelmed by the noise.

“He’s here.” You rub his head affectionately, and he peeks out, eyes landing on Johnny right away and glee lighting up his face.

“’cle Johnny!” he shrieks, and then flings himself at the poor man, barreling into him with the strength of a kid half his age.

“Oof.” Johnny gives you a bewildered look and you shrug.

“Why are you surprised? You know his dad.” Gaz barks a laugh, and Price’s wife rolls her eyes, before giving you a hug herself and dragging you into the kitchen. Gaz has got Theo up on his shoulders now, and you see Price handing Simon a beer out of the corner of your eye before you slip away, leaving them to their conversations.

“You look like you’ve been crying.” She motions to your under-eyes, and you tsk. You really did try to cover it up, but the puffiness is hard to hide.

“It’s been… a day.”

“A bad day?” She asks, and you consider it. Bad? No. Good? Also, not entirely. How would you describe it? 

“Not a bad day just… hard.” She reaches across the counter, squeezing your hand in a gesture of affection.

“If you need to chat…”

“Lunch this week?” you supply hopefully, and she readily agrees. It’s nice, having a friend. Having someone who gets it. Even though she’s a civilian, sweet as honey and soft as cotton, she’s still got an edge. She’s never shown fear, or disgust at the group of you. She married John, after all. And he loves her more than life itself. “So. What did you spend all day slaving away at in here?” you change the subject, and she giggles while popping a cork from a wine bottle.

“Fuck no.” She protests as she pours out two glasses. “I ordered catering. I’m not cooking for all you. You’re too picky.” She hands you a glass, and you chime your rim against hers.

“That’s fair.”

“How’s work, Sassy?” Kyle asks, bowl of salad extended towards Simon who turns his nose up at it.

“It’s good. Kind of dull.”

“What is it ye’re even doin’ now?” Johnny asks. He’s sitting next to Theo, who’s sitting next to Gaz, nestled between his two uncles like it’s a holiday, face beaming with happiness. They’re taking turns picking things off his plate too, since he’s already thrown a fit about eating vegetables tonight.

“I’m on a project. I’m just analyzing and compiling data for the DoD.” You try to keep it short, but Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“What kind of data?” You sigh.

“I’m tracking and analyzing the historical usage of Semtex.” You deadpan and his face lights up.

“Original compound?”

“Yes, Johnny.” You answer drily. Simon chuckles.

“You tryin��� to figure out how much is left floatin’ around out there eh?” You sigh again, louder for dramatic affect, and Price’s wife takes the cue.

“Okay, let’s talk about something other than bombs, hmm?” Gaz grumbles a protest, but she looks at Theo. “How’s school going Theo?”

“Oh yeah, sure use the kid!” Johnny playfully rolls his eyes, and you swing your toe into his shin. “OW!” He yells. You snicker. Price clears his throat. Whoops. 

“’Cools fun!” Theo supplies and Simon smiles softly at him from across the table. You watch him, the crease in the corner of his eyes, the gentle slope of his lips, the warmth and love that he exudes when he looks at his son. It makes you soft, so fucking soft and weepy and… in love. You feel the burn of a tear and rub your face subconsciously before looking down to your lap. Fuck. 

A heavy hand reaches for where yours sits, white knuckling the arm of your chair. A heavy hand wearing a gold wedding band, and you lean into it, hard, pulling his grip onto your lap, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles until you get your emotions under control.

“We’re gon’ miss you next week, Ghost.” Kyle says, cutting a piece of meat into a smaller portion and offering it to Theo who looks at it suspiciously. Simon coughs like he’s swallowed a fly.

“What?” you turn, and he grimaces. Price rubs his hand over his face, and Gaz looks between you and Simon like he’s confused.

“I’m taking some time off.”

“Well earned.” Kyle adds. “I’m sure Ale n’ Rudy ‘ll miss ya though.”

“You’re going to Las Almas?” Your head swings back and forth between the two of them.

“Wots lallamas?” Theo asks with a mouthful of food.

“Chew your food, baby.” You admonish. When no one else speaks, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head. “You’re going to Las Almas?” you repeat it, and Johnny shifts uncomfortably before answering.

“It’s just to help Los Vaqueros out.”

“With what?” you press, and now Simon is shifting nervously. “Soap.” You hiss and he holds his hands up.

“Valeria broke out-“ he starts.

“Someone broke Valeria out-“ Price tries to explain at the same time.

“Valeria’s on the lam and-“ Gaz uses air quotes around the word lam, and they all come to a stop when you laugh out loud.

“Oh my god.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’ll be out of your depth. She’s too smart for you all, and you know it.” The table goes dead silent.

“Well, if you’re lookin’ for something to do lass…” Johnny trails off suggestively.

“That’ll do.” Simon barks, and Theo’s eyes go wide. Gaz looks down at his plate. Price frowns. Simon takes a deep breath, before cutting a glance to you, and you give him a reassuring squeeze. It’s okay. You try to communicate with the gesture. It’s alright. 

Price’s wife stands from the table, a hand on her hip, the other on John’s shoulder.

“Alright. Who wants dessert?”

Bugs chirp in the grass when you step up next to Price outside on the deck. Simon, Soap and Gaz are all in the living room with his wife, Theo asleep in his dad’s arms, cheeks squished together, sweet baby lashes laying softly on his face. Price taps his cigar once, twice, before clearing his throat.

“If you wanted too, Sassy, I could pull some strings. You could come to Las Almas.”

“Thanks, Price but uh. I wouldn’t pass the psych eval for field action? And I’m probably not able to be medically cleared either.” You point to your shoulder, the one that has the nerve damage in it, and he nods. “But, I appreciate the offer.” You sigh, turning around and pinning your hands against the railing, kicking your shoes together before blowing out a deep breath. “I never thanked you.” You say softly. “For taking care of him… during the- when I was- when we were separated. I know… I know he was in a bad place and you both really supported him.” Price nods, cigar pulling free from his lips. “And… I know we never really… talked it out but… I do forgive you.” His head tilts, eyes heavy with full of a world of things you can only imagine.

“What I did, what Simon and I did… it was a mistake. I made a judgement call based on the situation I was put in and… it was the wrong one.” He says lowly and you nod.

“It was, but I consider us square.” You close your eyes. “I remember you, that day. When you guys came for me. I remember… hearing you talk to Simon when the heli landed. When he thought I was already dead. When he-“ Your voice breaks, because it’s too much to try to remember, too much to pull to the forefront of your mind. The memory of Simon’s hoarse screams, his pleas, his hands stained with blood. Your own vision blurred red, Soap holding pressure against two of your wounds, Gaz wrestling a pistol from Simon’s iron grip, Simon trying to die alongside of you, refusing to exist in a world where you don't and Price’s shout, his command for Simon to stand down ringing out above it all. “You kept him alive, kept reminding him he had Theo at home, waiting for him, and I owe you for that.”

“You don’ owe me anything, Sassy.”

“Well, I like to think we’re even at least.” You smile and he nods, blue eyes twinkling under the porch lamp, cigar burning a red hole in the darkness.

“We’re even then.” He agrees, and you turn to look through the living room window, where Simon’s hand is resting gently on Theo’s back, rubbing a soft circle to soothe him as he sleeps fitfully.

“I gotta get them home.” You jerk your head in their direction, and he smiles.

“Goodnight Sassy.”

“Night, Captain.”

You are nervous as hell when you climb into bed that night. Theo’s asleep, locks triple and quadruple checked, water bottle filled and stationed next to your side of the bed. You’re half laying, half sitting up in a mound of pillows, wearing one of Simon’s too big t-shirts and a pair of cotton shorts, tucked under the blankets and staring at the ceiling when the bed dips beneath his weight, his body sliding under the sheet next to you. He’s warm, so warm, like he usually is, and you’re yearning to sidle over and tuck yourself into him, the feeling so strong it nearly saws a hole through your heart.

Breathe. Just breathe. Everything’s okay. You’re home. There is no danger. There is nothing to fear. 

“Sass?” His voice is even, gentle, calming, and you turn to face him a little more than eagerly.

“Hi.” You breathe. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t do anything stupid, or rash, or say the wrong thing, be cool, you can do it, you’re fine, you’re okay now, you’re-

“Talk to me.”

“I want to touch you.” you blurt, partially mortified, even though you can hear your therapist in the back of your mind telling you ‘It’s okay to ask Simon for what you want, if he’s okay with that’. “Sorry. I want- I want… you to hold me? If… you want to. Only if you want to. If you don’t that’s okay.” You frown, fingers twisted together. His gaze grows soft, softer than it was ten minutes ago or an hour ago, and he nods, opening his arm to lift the blankets so you can scoot closer.

When you do, he brings you into his chest, tucking your face into his neck and folding his arm along your back, heavy palm sliding up and down your spine.

Home. It feels like home. It feels like happiness, and being whole, and feeling like yourself. It feels like your bed, your husband, your son, sleeping peacefully within these walls. It feels like everything’s okay, feels like you’re safe, feels like you’re going to be alright. It feels like home, for the first time in almost a year and it shocks you, the emotional swell of your feelings pulling tears to your eyes because you realize, you finally see, that it was Simon all along. Simon is your home, Simon is your anchor, Simon is your sanity. The father of your child, the man you married, the love of your life. It’s always been him. How could you have been so blind?

You’re crying now, tears soaking his skin, the neck of his t shirt and he’s holding you tight, trying to soothe you, his hand now brushing away the rapid tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“You’re okay, Sass. It’s alright.” He tries to calm you, but it only makes you cry harder into him.

“I know!” you sob. “I know it’s okay.” You sound nonsensical, breaths coming in shorter bursts, and you can feel his muscles tightening, his own panic starting to build over the state you’re working yourself into. “I’m s-sorry.” You sputter. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything. I ru-ruined us.”

“You didn’t, I promise.” He’s lying. He’s lying. He has to be, because how could that be true? After everything. After the hell you put him through. After the way you reacted the other night. After it all, how could he still be here, still want you? It didn’t make sense. You didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve anything.

“I don’t deserve you.” you cry, and he goes completely still, hand freezing on your skin, body frozen in the bed. You feel it, the stiffness, like he’s gone to stone, and it makes your heart race, makes you so nervous that your head spins until he speaks.

“I didn’t deserve you, for a long time.” He croaks. “I didn’t deserve to be in your life, didn’t deserve to be a father to Theo. Didn’t feel like I deserved to marry ya either. Could hardly believe it was happening, standin’ up there. Felt like I was in a bloody dream.” He leans back, tilting your chin upwards so he can look in your eyes, his own holding tears that match yours. “You gave me another chance. You forgave me. You showed me grace. Don’t you think you deserve a little bit o’ that yourself?” You take a shaky breath and consider his words. Do you? Do you think you deserve some grace? You close your eyes and count to ten in your mind.

You are still you. You are strong. You are a mother. You are a wife. 

You are loved. 

You are worthy of being loved. 

You are worthy of being loved. 

When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you intently, his eyes full of hope, full of love and understanding, carrying the weight of decades of pain, the strength of survival, the burden of everything. The burden that you too, carry alongside him. The burden that the two of you have always shared, even before this year, last year, before Theo was even born. A burden born out of trauma and broken homes and bloodshed; a weight that doesn’t feel so heavy when he’s by your side.

Two knuckles stroke along the apple of your cheek, and you turn your lips towards his palm, pressing a soft, gentle kiss against his skin.

“I love you.” you whisper it, eyes wide open, looking up at him through blurry and tearful vision.

“I love you.” He says back, pulling your hand into his, kissing your pulse point tenderly, and then folds you back into his arms, your own limbs tangling with his until all you can feel, all you can see, or smell is him. Simon, your person. Simon, Theo’s dad. Simon, your husband.

Simon, your home.

[audaciousacolyte]

Could I request Sonic x Reader where they were childhood friends and now are dating several years down the line? 👉👈

Best friend boyfriend

Sonic the hedgehog x Childhood friend!reader

《|| AN: Heya!! Terribly sorry for the long wait, I've been cooking up quite a few little treats that I think that all of you will enjoy!! That being said the following headcanons are based on my own, personal thoughts on sonic as a whole. I hope you enjoy!!! ||》

FLUFF (Pre-crush)

◇| As many of us know, Sonic the hedgehog is the coolest guy around.

◇| Whether he’s rolling around at the speed of sound (Haha), or fighting off Dr.Eggman, he’ll be having a blast and a half doing it.

◇| I’d think that sonic met you while on one of his many adventures, probably around the same time he first met Knuckles or Amy. Maybe he saved you from a badnik attack? Or maybe you popped up to try and stop the mad doctor yourself?

◇| However the two of you met, He’s ecstatic to have another buddy to horse around with! (He wouldn’t admit it though, (mostly because he can’t) but also because he has an emotionally unavailable bad boy image to maintain!)

◇| Be prepared for him to drag you along on all of his adventures, because once the two of you are friends, he’s going to mess around and have fun with you whether you like it or not!!

(Post Crush)

◇♡| Sonic is, and will likely continue to be, incredibly emotionally evasive. This boy can, will and has run from his feelings like they were coming to drag him to the very bottom of the ocean.

♡◇| Seriously, he runs from his demons like nobody’s business. And you and I are VERY well aware of how fast sonic can run.

◇♡| When he DOES eventually begin to consider the thought that MAYBE he likes you more than a friend should, Sonic gets…well, not nervous exactly, but definitely a bit WEARY around you. Probably tries to play it “cool” (or cool-er, I guess) around you, but usually ends up making a complete fool of himself

♡◇| (It’s fine though, you usually just laugh it off or play it down to spare his pride. He REALLY appreciates it.)

◇♡| He likely only begins to acknowledge his feelings after he meets Elise during the (very confusing) events of Sonic ‘06. (And also because Tails keeps teasing him about his (BIG, FAT, VERY OBVIOUS) little crush)

◇♡| Genuinely has no clue what he’s supposed to do with this information. He’ll probably just…sit on the fact that he likes you like that for a while. (And then go to Amy or Rouge for help, because what else is he supposed to do?)

♡| You are going to have to make the first move. Full stop.

♡| Sonic may be impulsive and quick on the uptake, but he’s got NEGATIVE ZERO relationship experience. He is out of his depth already with this crush, he’s not about to confess to someone he’s known for practically half his life at this point.

(Post dating)

♡| MASSIVE FLIRT, he will tease and fluster you FOR AGES. he WILL NOT get tired of it, EVER.

♡| (However, If you flirt back, he’ll turn into a flushed red mess… he can dish it out, but he sure can’t take it!)

♡| REALLY likes holding your hand, he finds it soothing to know that you’re never too far away from him while out and about. Sonic probably also plays with your fingers a lot as well.

♡| ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES

♡| I feel like Sonic would probably do stupid shit in front of you to show off.

♡| He has done ENTIRE CHOREOGRAPHED ACROBATIC ROUTINES while fighting eggman’s mechs when you were around as a way to showboat. (Nobody knows where he learned to do this, but it worked way too well for anybody to complain.(Eggman was so confused that he just…stopped functioning for a hot minute. He genuinely did not know what to do))

♡| Will do stupid little victory dances on Badniks for no reason other than to see you smile.

♡| Loves, loves, LOVES when you are goofy with him. It’s just so endearing to him!

♡| Please, for the love of all that is holy, play with his quills when y’all are cuddling!! He may say he hates it because it messes up his ‘do, but he actually loves it! (he does get a bit freaked out when you don’t do it though. He thinks that he did something to upset you if you don’t mess with his quills and will frantically try to “win” your love back or something)

[hyperdramas]

kissable | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, gym rat boyfriend!dokyeom, fluff, cute aggression (??), petnames ("sweetheart", honey"), kissing, kyeom is kissable and reader can't hold themselves back, lyr had too much fun describing dokyeom pt. 438934089320

Your boyfriend looked so kissable in this moment it was driving you insane.

Seokmin persuaded you (well, whined and got on his knees so practically begged you) to accompany him to the gym as you'd be a "wonderful motivation, and with his cute pleas and whiny tone you just couldn't say no.

Plus, he wasn't making you work out, and encouraged you to go in his oversized sweater and sweatpants, which you did. The whole drive there Seokmin was gushing about how excited he was to have you here with him, saying he'd do the best for you and only you (which made you nearly break at how cute he was).

If only you were God's strongest soldier.

Newsflash: you were not God's strongest soldier.

Everything was not in your favor: Seokmin was parading around the sweaty gym in a skimpy black tank top, muscled arms out for all to see as he walked to a rack of dumbells.

A sweat-drenched towel was resting around his neck in the most attractive way you've seen a towel used, and the beads of sweat and sheen covering Seokmin was making your cheeks burn up faster than your calories.

His vein-infused hands flexed as he grabbed the equipment, taut muscles tensing and releasing with each movement of his arm, and you swear you could see every vein from your vantage point⎯which was halfway across the room filled with tall equipment.

His ball cap sat low upon his face, but shielded nothing from your view: thick eyebrows furrowed with each stretch Seokmin followed, and he chewed at his lip as he heaved a sigh, pushing through the obvious pain as sweat dripped from his head, casting his face in a dewy glow.

Damn Seokmin for taking you here with him.

Damn him for being so breathtaking.

You spent the next hour and a half reassuring Seokmin you were doing okay without combusting mid-sentence with your hot, very kissable boyfriend being that close to you, and you breathed a small sigh of relief when he came up to you⎯still covered in sweat, by the way⎯telling you that he was done for the day and was ready to head home. 

You were quiet all the way home, and Seokmin knew something was bothering you, but didn't know what exactly. He thought that maybe you actually didn't want to come to the gym with him, or you were angry that he ignored you half of the time he was doing his workouts: he swore he made time to check in on you and talk with you when he was taking a quick breather, but maybe he didn't do that enough? He honestly didn't know what was wrong.

"Sweetheart⎯are you okay?" Seokmin called from the kitchen, searching the fridge for a snack as you two decided what to order for dinner.

You, on the other hand, were in Lalaland, thoughts overflowing with Seokmin's massive, flexing muscles and pure dedication he had during his workouts.

"Huh? What? Oh, I'm doing great." It was a lie, and you knew it, but what were you supposed to tell your adorable dork of a boyfriend who probably had little to no idea he was doing this to you.

Seokmin sighed to himself, settling on a water and a basket of strawberries as he came to the living room, sitting down beside you as you kept your eyes focused on the television.

"Sweetheart," Seokmin whined, taking your hand in his as he munches on a strawberry, also looking adorable in the process. His lips were stained red by the dark strawberry juice, and he licked them subconsciously, staring at you with worried chestnut-colored eyes.

God, why was your boyfriend so perfect?

Your face was heating up at how close Seokmin was to you, and you suddenly became conscious of everything around you, noticing how slow the clock ticked to the small crack in your window's blinds. Fiddling with Seokmin's ring absentmindedly, you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if Seokmin even started to ask you what was wrong you'd explode.

"Honey, please say something." Seokmin's voice was desperate, and as you predicted⎯you couldn't hold back.

"Seokmin, you looked so, so, so good while at the gym today. I was nervous the whole time and couldn't even keep my eyes off of you, you know that? I was holding my contagious giggling all the way home because you were that hot, and I wanted to kiss you so bad, I⎯"

Before you can finish your rambling, Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, hands on the sides of your body as he closes his eyes. Finally smiling for the first time in almost two hours, you kiss him back, overwhelming feelings of love and adoration going out of you and into Seokmin.

The two of you fell back onto the couch with your hands entangled in Seokmin's dark brown, slightly wet locks while he fell back with you calmly. Pulling away, Seokmin's eyes met yours in a heartbeat, smile uncontained as his cheeks blare a cherry red.

"Sweetheart, is that what it was?" Seokmin's voice was light and playful, and you nodded, smiling out of embarrassment as Seokmin chuckled at you, smile lines you adored peaking at you as he laughed.

"Yes, Seokmin: you were so pretty, handsome, stunning, and cool lifting those weights, doing push-ups, lunging, and walking on the treadmill with ease, I didn't know how to be normal and hold myself back properly. You were so, so kissable in every moment in that gym, I had to restrain myself from walking up to you and kissing you so hard you fell to the ground," You laughed nervously, and Seokmin pushes his hair from his face, still reeling over your confession.

"How can one be pretty and handsome at the same time?" He questions innocently, and you shake your head, bringing your lips to his again for a few seconds before you pull away.

"I don't know, but you can." You laugh, and Seokmin wheezes quietly, eyes disappearing into sparkling crescents as he kisses you again.

"Thank you." He smiles, and you nod, kissing his sharp nose and fluffy lips as he chuckles at your soft display of affection.

"Of course, Min."

[blueparadis]

Hi! I love your writing :)

If you have the time/are interested can yo make TR Mikey x reader smut with Mikey realizing reader is a virgin right before their first time? Either he believed gossips or the reader teases a lot or something. Whatever you cook up if you decide to do this, I am sure I will love it :)

Have a nice day

—

Thank you >:)) okay. this was very precise but idk why it confused me. I did my best tho. I love him sm. I'm always excited to write on him >^< hope you love it too <33

STAY WITH ME ; MANJIRO SANO !

୨ content & tags ୧ ~ f!reader, mafia au, mention of brothels, arrange marriage, virginity k!nk, ( domestic ) fluff, f1nger1ng, orgasm control, kisses and soft love making, very light corruption k!nk, teasing, he is a big softie here. word count — 2kish + blog navigation.

“You know about this ?”, Draken throws the newspaper in front of Manjiro who is deeply staring at his knuckles and his rings, sitting on a bar stool holding a drink with his non-dominant hand.

“They made it public. Were you aware of this? . . . ”Draken continues in a harsh tone with his eyebrows furrowing further as Manjiro keeps him playing with a ring, juggling it in between his fingers. “Mi-key, you know what this means right? The wedding is gonna happen in a week or . . .”

“Shin told me that we're going to visit them. Tomorrow. So, I figured . . .”

“You figured what? Y/N is practically in the front page with massive headlines and. . . ” Manjiro grabs the news paper instantly looking at the photo of her. She is walking out of a shop in a one-piece dress that reveals much of her body curves, beautifully, he must add. And except the chauffeur, there is no sign of a bodyguard. How dare he! That scoundrel.

Moreover, it's been almost a year since he saw her or it would be more accurate to say that he was forbidden to see her, meet her, talk to her. The only thread of communication he had with her was occasional gifts, though it was more of a bridging alliance with her father than wooing her.

“We’re leaving.”He rushes out of their private bar,“Now. And Inform Haruchiyo. He is coming with us.”

“What? ”, Draken gasped. “But Shinichiro -san ”

“Didn't you want me to take action? This is me taking action . . . for her. ”

“Ahhh, fuck it.”

Manjiro wasn't angry. He was furious, furious that his fiancee is roaming around the town without any sort of protection. He has been humbling himself since the day this bond was sealed. He had stopped going to whore house, bringing girls in his house or even going to a bar with Izana. The day this marriage was confirmed, he knew he had to cut off all these (bad) habits once she is under same room with him.

She was sent to study abroad, right after the meeting. Manjiro would have easily continued his lavish acts but he was told to behave, told to be prepared for her. And now that she is back, Manjiro was supposed to court her, take care of her, and get rid of the childish awkwardness of a newly married couple. Who knows what happened abroad? She might have been deflowered or . . .

“Woah. What a good day it is . . .”, Y/N’s father rose up folding the newspaper and keeping it on the tea table as he saw three men approaching in his way. Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji and Sanzu Haruchiyo. Of course, they had no trouble with the security.

Without greeting Manjiro walked in to the house, he was determined to meet her. Draken stopped y/n's father with his hand while his lips started to work. “Nah... Shiba-san .... When did y/n got back? We came here immediately as soon as we saw her... in the headlines” Haruchiyo stood beside the man with his eyes on the ground, hands tucked behind at the valley of his waist.

Manjiro smiled to himself as he heard Draken making the small talk. Ah! Geez. He never changes. His eyes scanned the hall. Not a soul was there, not even a servant. He heard quick footsteps cascading down the stairs, his heartbeats escalated, breathing became faster, hands crawling inside the pocket of his slacks. . .“Ahrey. . . Isn't it yuzuha? ”

She cocked her head to a side exclaiming in a bored tone. “Hakkai and Taiju are busy at the restaurant. I'm sure you know why”

“I’m not here for them” Yuzuha couldn't help but smile at his confession.

“She is in her room. Up-stairs. Right - wing. Last room with balcony.” Manjiro was already walking as he bowed his head to give his utmost thanks to her.

He stood in front of the door for a minute thinking now what? He hasn't prepared shit to say and he certainly doesn't want to scare her. Last meeting was . . . he was quite hard on her. He knocked, three times and waited. Within five seconds he saw y/n opening the door with so much zeal in her eyes.

“You should always ask. . . Who is it? Before opening the door.”, Manjiro quipped walking into the room and closing the door behind, without turning so as to keep his eyes on her.

“Are you not surprised to see me? ”

“Yuzuu texted.”, that girl always had a knack for enacting tit-for-tat whenever there was an opening.

“So, within a week. . . You'll have to stay. . . ”

“Stay with you, share bed with you, obey you. . . Yeah, yeah I know” God! What did they do to her? Last time when Manjiro saw her she had no fire in her eyes, no fight in her soul. What exactly happened at abroad?

“I wasn't going to say that but i guess that sums up. Here”, he kept a strip of medicines. “You will have these. I want you to be prepared for our wedding night. Start from today.” Part of her knew what those pills did, while part of her wanted to ask, to hear through his voice. How fucking rude! No gifts, no talk straight to sex.

The wedding day was lustrous and full of happiness. Just for a day, everyone in the Shiba family set aside there differences to make you smile. Yuzuha complained a little about how she is gonna be lonely without her sister and claimed she is gonna visit her soon but Manjiro brushed it off.

“You’re drinking too much. . . Is the crowd making you nervous? Do you want to go inside? Is the food too spicy? ”

Manjiro was kind even for a man who belonged to the obsidian world of blood-bath. His attention was focused on her, her tone of talking, body language. He cannot wait to just have her, share bed with her and fuck her in all positions known to a man, fuck her till all she remembers is his name, till she reeks of him, thinks of him and only him.

He entered the room an hour later than her. By the time she already had changed clothes and was under the covers laying down and thinking about the marriage, this marriage that was mere an alliance and she was just a peace offering.

“Y/N, you still awake?”Manjiro asked coming out of the bathroom and standing near the edge of the bed. The light of night lamp was perfectly falling on her face as she turned around to face him. Manjiro’s heart dropped at the pit of his stomach, cock twitched as her body peeked from under the covers.

“Are you tired?”, he asked leaning over her as he tucked the loose hair strands behind her ear. She nodded and sat upright. He was now sharing the same cover as her, cock growing, eyes glinting in lust and heart pounding amongst his rib cage. He cupped her face so as she would meet his eyes but she jerked his hands off instantaneously, jumping out of the bed and making some distance between them.

“Don’t”

“Why? Did i do something wrong? Something that hurt you? ”

“No but . . .” “I didn't take pills.”

Manjiro got out of bed and strolled towards her. She backed away. He could see her shaky hands, he swallowed and looked away. “Do i scare you, Y/N?”

“No.” There was silence for a few seconds since Manjiro did not know what to do, what to say. He wasn't ready to have babies, not yet. And, now he can't even fuck her raw and he would hate to wear condom on his wedding night. He always used protection while visiting brothels even though he knew all the girls were clean.

“I. . . I want . . . I need time”, she breathed out. Manjiro’s eyebrows jumped since an entirely different fact dawned on him. Could it be. . . she is. . .?

“Are. . .” he cleared his throat. “Are you still a virgin ?”

“What do you mean still?” , she thought.

“umm-hmm” He raked his fingers through his pitch-black hair revealing his dragon tattoo as her feeble umm-hmm echoed in his head. She is a virgin, that is, he is going to be her first, probably for everything. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded if it were opposite since he was dry for almost an year and now had to keep himself under control. Great. He is truly fucked.

“Do you trust me, y/n ?”

“I can try ”

Manjiro laid out his hand in front of her. She hesitated at first but the moment she kept her palm over his, Manjiro lowered his head to kiss her knuckles. As soon as he raised his head, he pulled her against his body wrapping his other hand around her waist. Her body felt warm,less shaky as he felt her nose grazing against his chest muscles.

“So, you're saying that. . .”, he earned her stares on him as he spoke further. “No one was handsome enough for your taste ?”

“It was a all - girls college.”

“Uhhh-Hahh!” , Manjiro lips tugged up. “And they didn't tell you about anything? What actually happens during wedding night? When they came to know about our marriage.”

“I wasn't supposed to talk about my life, this life to them. I made friends. They were nice but i missed home.” Manjiro was taken aback by her ways for two reasons; one : she wasn't afraid of him like others, two: she was innocent but not naive, a little brave he might add.

“Y/N ?”

“Hmm?”

And when she peered up Manjiro pressed his lips against her cheeks just at the corner of her lips without a second thought. He has fucked enough girls to know a woman's weak spots but this felt out of syllabus. He guided her hands over his shoulders as his lips proceeded along her neckline. Manjiro bucked his hips , pressed his hard on against her entrance earning a loud gasp with her hands locking around his nape. Bingo.

Manjiro swiftly pushed her on to the bed. He stood looking at her while she panted vigorously. He discarded his upper clothing, crawling on top her. His head dipped while she leaned in, lips slightly parted awaiting for his kiss. But Manjiro’s lithe fingers worked on the buttons of her night dress. “What? You thought I was gonna kiss you. . . on your lips. You asked for time, remember?”

But immediately Manjiro’s lips were silenced by a kiss. Dry, short-lived and quick. His hands were still on undoing the buttons Manjiro couldn't help but grin.

“Is that you call a kiss? ”one of his hands travelled underneath her thin night gown, way up to her vagina. His fingers penetrated her at the same time his lips dashed on hers. Manjiro wasn't in mood to hold back because her body was eager. She was just a little afraid and by her desperate hold on his arms, Manjiro could tell she was loving it.

He explored her lips and kissed as deep as he could. “That is ... What you call a kiss.”, he whispered against her lips before pecking her cheeks. He added one more finger and quickened his pace, hitting her spot, watching her eyes blanking out, her grips growing stronger on his arms, body squirming underneath his. Her hips reflexively bucked up as orgasm washed over her body.

“Good girl. ”, he hummed as he rolled beside her giving space to breath licking his fingers shamelesly.

@tokyometronetwork

[astraysimp]

♡Hi pookies! It’s 9mitm friday and boy have I been waiting for this one!I have been planning this one for soooooooo long….so I am so ready and excited to get this one out!♡ Nessa.exe has malfunctioned♡

Summary: Seungmin has never been into the party scene, but his friends still bug him about going out. But, why would he when he has you and his tiny pochacco at home?

Warnings: college!bf dad Seungmin,Seungmin’s friend are annoying, mad seungmin(not towards you or baby), FLUFF FLUFF MARSHMALLOW FLUFF, soft seungmin, cussing, petnames, fem!reader, lots of pochacco

{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}

12.35pm

Seungmin had just been released from his last lecture. It was Friday, which meant that you didn’t have any classes that day. So, Seungmin knew you would be at your shared apartment with your baby Min Jun. He was looking forward to being able to have his peaceful weekend with you and his baby.However, Seungmin’s friends, Hyunjin and Jisung, had other plans. Seungmin’s plans never included going out and getting drunk. Typically consisting of going back to your apartment, wearing sweats or pajamas and unwinding for the weekend. Oh, and lots of time with the baby.

As he was walking out of his lecture hall and off campus, he felt two hands place themselves on each of his shoulders. “Hey, Seungmin! You down to go to the club tonight?” Hyunjin had asked, smiling at the younger boy. “No, I'm just going to go home to y/n and Minjun.” Whining, Jisung pouted, “But you never go out with us anymore! Come on!” He drawled out, stomping his foot. They always said this, every single time. Hyunjin nodded, “Yeah! Just one night, come on man! It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together!” Hyunjin added.

Seungmin could feel himself getting frustrated. No matter how many times he told them he didn’t like clubbing, he didn’t like parties, he didn’t like drinking…..they never got it. Groaning, Seungmin rebutted, “You guys know I don’t like that type of scene.Why do you keep asking?” He argued, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulder. Quick to butt back in, Jisung replied, “because, you never go out with us, anymore! We’re young and in college, for God’s sake!” “Yeah, we gotta enjoy our youth, bro!” Hyunjin chimed in. Seungmin didn’t care that he was in his 20’s and in college or that he was ‘supposed’ to be out getting drunk at any chance he got. What was in the fun in waking up with a massive hangover, pounding headache and nauseated feeling the next day?

They were soooooo persistent, and Seungmin was growing mad. Usually, he would say no until the two boys gave up and went on their ways. But, for some reason, today they never gave up. Only continuing to badger, pester, poke and prod at their friend until the rubber band of usual his calm collective demeanor broke and all hell broke loose with it. With each playful shove, his anger only built, nearing the end of his rope, before he snapped. Seungmin was practically seeing red. He was livid.

“Maybe, I don’t go out because I DON’T FUCKING LIKE IT. I DON’T LIKE PARTIES AND CROWDS AND GETTING PLASTERED. I LIKE QUIET AND CALM AND DID YOU FORGET I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND BABY I GO HOME TO?! I KNOW YOU TWO LONELY FUCKERS DON’T HAVE SIGNIFICANT OTHERS OR BABIES TO LOVE ON, BUT I DO! AND I WANT TO BE HOME WITH THEM SO STOP FUCKING TRYING TO GET ME TO GO OUR AND FUCKING PARTY! IT’S NOT HAPPENING!” He snapped, shoving their hands off of him and storming away from them and towards your apartment building, still cursing under his breath. Hyunjin and Jisung’s jaws dropped, never having seen Seungmin so mad.

But, they were the ones to cause it.

Hopefully, the 10 minute walk to the apartment complex would cool him down. Maybe, feeling the wind blow through his soft brown locks, or the sun on his face or the slightly chilled breeze would help him relax. He didn’t want to return to your apartment, to you and your baby, with a sour attitude. So, picking out his airpods, he pushed them into his ears and hit shuffle on his playlist, already feeling slightly more calm.

When he was about 5 minutes away, he heard a soft ding play through his airpods, causing a brief and momentary pause in his music. It was a text from you, with a picture of your baby asleep on your chest, both of you clad in pochacco pajamas and a pochacco blanket strewn over you.

“Little pochacco is resting before papa gets home <3”

You had sent that text, albeit sleepily. Your fingers tiredly swiping over the keyboard, before you hit send and set your phone down. You, too, fell asleep waiting for Seungmin to come home.

Making his casual 10 minute walk to your apartment complex, he felt himself cooling off. But, he was still mad. He told Hyunjin and Jisung time and time and time again that no, he doesn’t like going out and partying. Why couldn’t they get it through their thick skulls and stop pestering him about it. Seungmin was never the one to go out and party, much preferring his peace and quiet.

Before he met you,while other college kids were partying, he would be in his dorm playing video games, or at quiet cafes with an iced americano or in the library studying. You were the same way, and in fact, that was how you met.

You were freshmen and it was a Friday night, and Seungmin had just entered the cafe he normally went to, and saw you sitting at a corner table, sipping an iced caramel latte with sweet cold foam and caramel drizzle, made with oat milk instead of dairy milk– which he came to know as your favorite drink and one he would order many many times in the future– perched in your hand. You were wearing a cute soft blue hoodie, the words “it’s okay” embroidered on the back, a pair of black leggings on your legs, white converse and baby blue fuzzy socks on your feet. He remembered how you had glasses perched on your nose, slightly falling as you read your book, and how your hair had tied up into a loose bun with a scrunchy.

Mostly, he remembered how nervous he felt when he saw you, the air having been knocked out of him when you caught him staring and gestured for him to come to your table. A soft smile on your face, you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Hi there….I’m y/n.” You had introduced yourself, a soft giggle leaving your pink glossed lips. “Hi. I-I’m Seungmin.” He stuttered back. From that day on, 4 years ago, you and Seungmin had become inseparable. So inseparable to the point that everyone on your campus knew you two as “Mr and Mrs.Kim”.

When you were pregnant, you two were always together. Finding out you were expecting was scary and you cried as you told Seungmin.The two of you were still in college, your futures not even started yet. “Minnie, I’m pregnant,” you cried, burying your face in his chest. “I know, baby. It’s going to be okay,” he shushed, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. Peeking up at him you sniffled, “w-what? What do you mean ‘you know?” He only chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Bubs, I know you like the back of my hand. We’ve been together for 4 years, I track your periods. I figured it out when your app said you were late.” Oh. You smiled up at him, soft sniffles still escaping your, “Oh, okay.” You, in the end, knew it would be okay. With Seungmin, it would always be okay.

As your pregnancy progressed, he was there through it all. Every craving, every bout of morning sickness, doctors appointment, parenting class, baby shower, gender reveal, every Braxton Hicks contraction. He was there through it all, and the same went for your labor and delivery. It was a long 25 hours, but he was there for it all. Letting you squeeze his hands as contractions ripped through your body. He saw you get the epidural, even though it scared him watching the doctors push the needle into your lower back. He held your leg as you pushed, he cried when the nurses announced your baby’s head was crowning and he sobbed when he heard the shrill cries of your newborn son and saw him be placed on your chest.

Finally approaching your apartment complex, he let himself in with his keycard and walked to the elevator. Going home to you and Min Jun, who was now 8 months old, was his favorite part of the day. Humming, he pressed the button that would carry him to the 3rd floor of the complex, where you and Min Jun would be. He was growing giddy as he stepped into the elevator, hearing soft music play as the electronic doors closed. The short minute and a half ride felt too long for him.

Smiling to himself, he saw the panel show that he reached the 3rd floor, and the doors opened. Almost home, he was almost home. Holding his key in his hand, he speed walked down the hall, his eyes beaming. Ah, his beloved apartment 306.

You and Seungmin had gotten your apartment a year into your relationship having decided that 1. Dorms sucked and 2. It would just be better to live together. You were always together so it just made sense. Plus, you and Seungmin preferred the quietness an apartment offered. Your apartment was the perfect mix of you and Seungmin’s personalities. It was cozy, homely, warm and inviting. The walls painted a creme color, soft creme colored furniture making itself home. The apartment always smelled of a soft vanilla scent, thanks to your candles or wax melts or baking.

Unlocking the door, he toed his outdoor shoes off in exchange for his pochacco slippers. He saw how the kitchen was clean, dishes washed and on the drying rack. Min Jun’s high chair sitting next to your small dining table. Smiling, he softly shut the door and left his backpack on the table. “Baby, pup, I’m home!” He called out, after shrugging his denim jacket off, and walked towards the living room.

He loved the living room, pictures of you, Seungmin and Min Jun adorning the walls. Your soft cream colored couch and recliner facing opposite the tv. On the couch were soft powder blue throw pillows that you picked out, claiming they “added a cozy touch.” There was a powder blue blanket laying over the back of the couch, added for cuddle sessions or just being chilly. Next to the couch was a cream colored round coffee table, with a lamp and framed picture of the three of you seated on it. In the space between was a cream colored coffee table. Littered with pictures, a baby bottle(usually), occasionally a random plate or mug. Then, there was the rug. Which shockingly was hard to find, some being too bad and some too small. You and Seungmin thought it would be easy to find, but it wasn’t. So, you two were elated, when you found that one. It was soft, plush and powder blue in a rounded square shape and the perfect size.

Then, some of his favorite pieces of furniture. Baby Min Jun’s play mat and tummy time area. Baby toys messily scattered around the floor. Both are pochacco themed, obviously. You and Seungmin often laid on the floor, playing with Min Jun, playing blocks with him, showing him baby books or just simply enjoying tummy time with him– you loved tummy time.

It was quiet when he called out, where he’d normally be met with a “Hi baby!” and baby giggles. Seungmin was confused, as he walked into the living room. Then, he saw you and Min Jun. The two of you asleep on your couch, you and your back with Min Jun laying on you. His cheek was pressed to your chest, pochacco pacifier nestled between his lips and a pochacco blanket laying over you two. It melted his heart. Seungmin knew you didn’t have classes that day, you never did on Fridays, and that meant a day of relaxing with your little pochacco.

With soft footsteps, he approached where you lay on the couch, you looked peaceful and content. He knelt down, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and gently swept a few stray hairs from your face. “Hey, lovebug. I’m home.” He whispered, the back of his knuckle grazing your cheek. His heart swelled, overcome with love at the sight of his girlfriend and son.

The sound of his voice woke you , causing you to softly whine, as your eyes fluttered open and fell upon the sight of your Seungmin. Yawning, you sleepily smiled at him, “hi Minnie,” you whispered, your hand securing a still sleeping Min Jun to your chest. “Hi my girl, you do anything fun ” he asked. Nodding, you rubbed your eyes with your spare hand before pecking his lips. You shook your head, feeling your little pochacco wiggle on your chest. “No, just cleaned and relaxed, waiting for you.” You answered.

Min Jun has always been a heavy sleeper. So, you and Seungmin never had issues with getting to sleep through the night. However, as heavy a sleeper as Min Jun is, he always could sense when mama or papa pochacco moved, arrived, or left. It was almost as if his mama and papa senses set off alarms in his little chubby 8 month old body; that told him something was adorable. You supposed that he got it from you and Seungmin. The two of you, also being able to sense any slight change in movement when it came to each other. It was the cutest thing, truly.

Seungmin had just placed a short quick kiss to your lips, before the sounds of soft whines and whimpers were escaping from Min Jun’s pouted ones. Chuckling, Seungmin kissed his forehead, smoothing the rustled soft black hairs on Min Jun’s head. “Ah, why is my pochacco whining?” Seungmin asked, as Min Jun’s eyes, identical, to his own, looked back at him. As if he were responding, Min Jun whined again, one of his chubby hands reaching out towards his papa pochacco, Seungmin.

Holding onto his papa’s finger, Min Jun blinked his big brown eyes up at Seungmin. Min Jun put Seungin’s finger in his mouth, the pacifier long forgotten. It was a sign that he was hungry and it made you giggle. It made Seungmin’s heart melt every time, looking at a miniature version of himself. Smiling, you patted Min Jun’s, pochacco onesie covered, bum and rubbed his back. “Are you hungry, my pochacco?” You asked, as he started gumming away at Seungmin’s finger. The feeling of his son’s wet, saliva covered, gums mouthing at his finger made him cringe– affectionately, of course. Nodding his head, Seungmin smiled and placed a soft kiss against Min Jun’s chubby cheek and made his way towards your kitchen.

Seeing his papa walk away caused Min Jun to whine, longing for more love from papa pochacco. “Baby, have you eaten yet?” Seungmin called out, already grabbing ingredients for ramyeon along with a bottle, jar of pureed apples and peaches and a pochacco spoon. “No, not yet, honey.” You called back, carefully moving yourself to sit up on the couch, cradling a still whining Min Jun to your chest. “I’m making some ramyeon with eggs, honey. Is that okay?” You heard Seungmin call out, as the scent of the broth wafted its way from your kitchen to the living room. Bouncing Min Jun on your lap, you smiled and held his hands so he could stand. “Yes, bub, that sounds yummy!” You replied, as Min Jun babbled and bounced on his legs. Babbling, Min Jun placed his hands on your cheeks, effectively squishing them together and causing you to purse your lips. As best as he could for being 8 months old, he pursed his own lips and pressed them against your own. “Mwah Mwah Mwah” you managed to get out, as he still had his hands on your face. He was all giggles, loving his mama’s kisses.

Being so enveloped by kissing your baby pochacco, you hadn’t heard Seungmin call out that lunch was ready. “Babe? Pup? Lunch is ready!” Seungmin called out, only to be met with no response and the sound of baby giggles. Setting the table, he placed your steaming bowls of ramen on the dining table. Chopsticks, broth spoons and glasses of juice set alongside. “Babe,” he called again, turning to grab the jar of baby food and spoon, setting them on the tray of Min Jun’s high chair. Again, no response.

Once the tables had been set, he walked back to the living room, his eyes landing upon the sight of you and Min Jun sharing sweet kisses. He smiled to himself, quietly padding along the floor, until he was standing by the arm of the couch that was closest to where you were sitting. Leaning down, Seungmin placed a kiss on your forehead, which startled you. “Babe, lunch is ready,” he called out, chuckling as you jumped back in your seat. “Oh, sorry Min. Pup was too busy giving mama kisses. Isn’t that right, my little pochacco?” You smiled, as Min Jun’s eyes shifted to where Seungmin stood he giggled, holding his little chubby arms out to him.

Scooping the 8 month old baby into his arms, Seungmin smiled and made the short walk back to the kitchen. You were following behind, smiling at the sight of Seungmin and Min Jun. “Lunch time for you, huh bub. Are you hungry?” Seungmin smiled, as he placed the baby in his high chair, securing a (pochacco) bib around his neck. Pulling up a chair, Seungmin sat in front of the high chair, one hand holding the jar of food and the other holding the spoon. Turning to where you were sitting, Seungmin shot you a soft smile. “Babe, you go on and eat. I’ll feed the pup.” He said, carefully scooping an appropriate amount of food onto the spoon and lifting it to his son’s mouth. “Ah, say ah, bubba.” Seungmin cooed, watching Min Jun open his mouth, his lips enveloping the spoon. “Mmmmm, is it yummy, my little pochacco?” He crooned, as he continued feeding the baby.

You could only watch with love filled eyes. “The ramyeon is really good, babe. Good job.” You told Seungmin, as you picked up another bite of noodles with your chopsticks, softly blowing to cool them off before taking the bite in your mouth. “Thank you baby. Glad you like them,” he called back, still feeding Min Jun. Smiling, you move to sit next to Seungmin, carefully holding a bite of ramyeon to his mouth. “Open up, honey. You need to eat too.” You smiled, as his lips parted, exposing his beautiful smile and took the bite of food in his mouth. “Mh, thank you hon,” he said through chewing, a bit of broth dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Nodding, you smiled and continued to feed him and yourself as he fed Min Jun. “Of course, Minnie. What are we doing after this?” You pondered, seeing Min Jun get his baby food smeared around his mouth. Shrugging his shoulders, Seungmin carefully scooped the food from around the baby’s lips and fed it to him. “I don’t have anything planned. Was there anything you wanted to do, bub?” He asked, setting the now empty jar and spoon down.

You shook your head no. “Not really, maybe just go relax at the park or something later, the weather is nice.” You answered, as you and Seungmin had finished eating. Taking your dishes to the sink, you washed them clean of the food and set them in the drying rack. Seungmin had scooped Min Jun from his high chair and sat him on his lap, his small hands holding his bottle as he drank from it. Sitting down and leaning your head against his shoulder, you nuzzled into him. “The park sounds nice, honey girl.” Seungmin smiled, gently kissing your forehead. “The weather isn’t too cold,either.”

Nodding, you and Seungmin made separate ways to your rooms to get dressed. Taking Min Jun to his nursery, Seungmin laid him on the changing table. “Hm, what should we wear today, little pup?” He asked, already knowing it would be something pochacco themed. Smiling, he changed his baby’s diapers, holding his wriggly chubby legs still before sliding on a pair of baby sweatpants. He opted to go for a comfortable yet cute vibe. “So cozy, huh, bubbly?” He asked, as Min Jun looked back at him, with his brown brown eyes. “Alright, let’s get a shirt and hoodie on you. That sound good, pup?” Seungmin asked before carefully dressing him in a simple white tee shirt and a pochacco hoodie— of course with a little tail on the back and floppy black ears on its hood. “Now, for your little feet,” he cooed, kissing each of Min Jun’s feet before sliding a pair of white socks and little baby converse on his feet. “All done, my boy. Now, daddy has to get dressed.”

Meanwhile, you were in yours and Seungmin’s shared bedroom. You were humming to yourself, sliding into a pair of soft black leggings. “Hmmmm, what to wear, what to wear,” you thought aloud to yourself. Grabbing a powder blue shirt, you slipped it over your head and grabbed your hoodie. It was, also, powder blue and had a little pochacco printed on the chest area. It was well loved, and so oversized. That hoodie felt like home.

It was your favorite hoodie. Seungmin had gifted it to you on your three month anniversary, telling you “I noticed that powder blue is your favorite color, and pochacco is my favorite character. So….it’s perfect and I have a matching one. “ He blushed, watching as you hugged the hoodie to your chest.

Smiling, Seungmin had quietly slipped into your bedroom, Min Jun in his arms. “Still love that hoodie, don’t you baby?” He asked, setting Min Jun on the bed so he could also get dressed. Startled, you clutched your chest, turning to smile at your boyfriend. “Geez, Minnie. You scared me. But, yes, I still love this hoodie, it’s my favorite one,” you smiled, slipping socks and converse on your feet. “I know, I got you it, 4 years ago.” Seungmin laughed, changing into jeans and his matching hoodie. Not paying him any mind, you turned your attention to your baby. Picking him up, you smiled taking in his outfit. “Oh look at my little pochacco! Did daddy dress you! I know he did! My little cutie pie!” You cooed, as he giggled at you, his small hands waving in the air.

Not noticing that Seungmin had finished getting dressed, he called out. “Picture time!” He waved his phone, standing in front of your full length mirror. It was a tradition to snap a selfie of your outfits. “Smiling, you held Min Jun on your hip as you walked to where Seungmin was standing. Taking your place by his side, he slung his arm over your shoulders and you cuddled into his side, Min Jun balanced on your hip. “Smile!” He called, you two smiled, the shutter of his phone camera going off.

Once the picture was taken, you grabbed your purse and made your way to the kitchen, so you could get the baby bag and stroller ready. “We’ll be in the kitchen, honey. Don’t take too long.” You said. Quickly, he nodded and rushed to grab his keys and wallet. “Gotcha babe! Be right out,” he rushed as he slipped his feet into his shoes . Once he finished getting dressed, he looked at his phone, setting the new picture as his Home Screen and Lock Screen. Lowering his phone, he examined the picture and thought….

Diapers over clubs, any day

<3~ please do not repost (on any websites),copy, translate, modify, paraphrase or in any way claim my works <3~ AStraySimp est2023<3~

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[okminer07]

A Match Beyond Measure Pt 2

(Name may be subject to change)

“Y-you… You’re the only one outside?” 

“Far as I can tell, yeah.”  

“Outside the Grounds and Sounds cafe?” 

She waited with bated breath for his answer, that last damning piece of evidence, “Yeah, looks like it. Are you sure you’re alright?”  

No, no she was not alright. She was anything but alright! The person outside was Garret, the giant outside was Garret! This whole time she had been talking with a giant! The giant outside was waiting for her! 

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears as she sat there curled up on the floor. What was she supposed to do? Out of all the things that could have gone wrong! 

“Uh hey, you still there?” 

She jumped at the sound of his voice, this time knowing the owner was looming right outside the door. Did he know? Did he know she was human? He couldn’t have. He sure acted like he was expecting someone… someone more like him. 

What should she say? Did she really want to let him know? What would happen then? She shivered as hundreds of scenarios entered her mind all at once, all of which horrified her. But she had to say something! If she didn’t he’d remain standing out there and get more and more suspicious. 

“Garret” she muttered, “I’m a…. The cafe you're standing in front of, that’s the cafe I work at.” 

Silence on the other end.  

“Wait what?” Cecilia couldn’t think of anything else to say, she was… she was-

Suddenly, the ground jerked so violently it catapulted Cecilia from her seat with a yelp. She caught herself before she could smack her head on the floor, releasing a shaky breath as everything went still. Her phone had been knocked out of her hand and was now lying on the floor, cracked.  She grabbed it before rolling over and backpedaling back to her spot pressed up against the cabinets. After a few seconds of more silence, she slowly straightened her legs and pushed herself up, turning around as she did so.  

Her heart nearly stopped. Outside, practically taking up the entire glass wall, was a face. A face turned sideways trying to peer in with two blue eyes the size of dinner plates. A massive hand was holding something that looked like a phone the size of a car against the side of his face. Garret’s face.  

His eyes widened when they fell upon her. Cecilia watched his mouth fall open in shock, revealing massive teeth that she couldn’t help but imagine morphing into sharp fangs.  

Just as soon as she had stood, she fell back to the ground, trembling, “Wait!” the shout reverberated through the walls. She snapped her eyes shut, clasping her hands over her ears. Just go away, her fingers clawing into her head and grabbing bits of her curly red hair, “Wait come back!” 

She winced, squeezing her eyes even more shut. Just go away! She pleaded. 

“Cecilia?”  

Everything seemed to freeze once again. Her name rang in her ears. Garret’s voice rang in her ears, only not the thunderous one she’d heard moments ago, but the one she had gotten to know. Slowly, she let her hands slide off her face and into her lap, still shaking. 

That had reminded her that this… this was Garret. 

What difference does that make?! One side of her screamed, get out of here now! 

She glanced to the door leading to the back and the back exit. If she was quick about it, she could slip out and run for it. But…. she looked at her phone, laying on the floor next to her. She couldn’t just do that, giant or not, he at least deserved an explanation. 

But what if he got angry? She felt herself cringe at the thought of those huge features twisting into a visage of rage.  

She hit herself, shaking her head. Stop it! Stop thinking like that! If you are anything close to a decent human being you will say something! 

Her phone felt ten times as heavy as she picked it up and lifted it up to her ear. 

“G-Garret?” she managed to mumble. 

“Hey” his voice responded sheepishly, “Didn’t mean to scare you there, heh. This is just a little unexpected”  

Cecilia let out a mumble of agreement. 

“But uh hey, I could stop blocking the door and you can come on out and-” 

“No!” 

Cecilia slapped a hand over her mouth, looking down horrified.  

There was an audible pause on the other end, “Is something wrong?”

How is he being so cool about all of this?! 

“I uh….” she racked her brains for what to say, “It’s uh…” 

“It’s not what?” 

“It’s not your fault.” she blurted out. 

Garret fell silent. Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad. 

“What’s not my fault?” 

“That I’m… that I’m-” 

“I’m going to stop you right there” Cecilia went still, “I know this isn’t what you were expecting or what we had planned, but hey, I haven’t much experience being around humans but have always sort of wanted to”  

Can’t say I feel the same way. 

“There’s a restaurant a couple miles from here that’s got some of the best burgers I’ve ever had. If you want we could go and hit it up.” 

She cringed, clearly he had no idea what she had meant before, and now she felt like she had dug herself into a deeper hole. Her lips were dry as she tried to come up with the right words, “T-the thing is, I’m…. not really….” She knew what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. What if he got offended? That was the last thing she wanted to do, for more selfish reasons if she was being honest. 

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything, I just…. Your…. Your-” Just spit it out dammit! “Your kind make me feel uneasy”  

Uneasy seemed like the most harmless word to use, but it didn’t at all really describe how she felt at all. She didn’t really even want to think of the words to properly describe it in case it just made those feelings worse. 

“Uneasy?” Garret still sounded confused. Sheesh, he really hadn’t spent much time around humans. Uneasiness was said to be quite common in many folks when first interacting with the other kind, though they seemed to always get over it quite fast. Not Cecilia though, for some stupid ass reason that she didn’t know. 

“I-I haven’t much experience around…. your kind either.”  

“Well like I said, neither have I. It would be a fun first for both of us.” 

Fun?!   

She wasn’t sure what to say without the possibility of offending him. None of her words had really landed and he still seemed to have no idea what she was getting at. The hallway leading to the back and by extension, the backdoor was starting to look really appealing. 

If she was careful… if she was quiet…. Her bike was chained up to a pipe right out back. If she could make it out there without being seen, she’d be out of this mess. She’d be able to ride back to her apartment, explain herself to him over text instead of…. Instead of… right now and…. Right here. 

Pocketing her phone, which was still on the line, she unfolded her legs and began to crawl towards the back. A couple of cups and bottles of flavoring had fallen and shattered to the floor, she maneuvered past them so as not to get sliced in the knee and cry out. When she made it to the back hallway, she pressed herself against the wall. She stiffened when she felt her phone vibrate and the vague sound of Garret’s voice. Ignoring it, she continued to crawl the length of the hallway, the backdoor always in front of her, teasing her.   

After what felt like an eternity of slinking along the tiled floor, her nose was inches away from the door. She looked over her shoulder before standing up and fumbling with the door knob. The creaky old door seemed louder than ever as it hinges squealed. She cringed, pushing it all the way open and stepping out. Her bike was on the left, chipped blue paint looking more beautiful than ever before.  

She scrambled over to it, grabbing the bike lock and frantically clicked in the code. The lock snapped open and she didn’t hesitate to pull it away from the building and mount it. She began to pedal, her eyes fixated on the thin alley across the street that she had always used as a shortcut to her complex. 

Suddenly, she heard movement. The rustle of fabric and a low grunt right before a growing shadow appeared feet in front of her. She had but a millisecond to turn her bike harshly to the left before something bigger than a decent sized car crashed down in front of her, the impact throwing her off her bike and sending her skidding across the pavement. The ground rocked once more before everything stilled. 

Cecilia groaned, her elbows and calves burning from being dragged across the ground. 

“Shit!” she froze as that same deep voice rumbled from far above her. She didn’t want to look up, but her body at that moment seemed to be on autopilot as her neck strained to look upwards.  

Her eyes widened, a mountain of mass stood before her, reaching at least forty meters in height. Her mouth went completely dry when her eyes met with two familiar blue eyes, staring down at her.  

She quickly looked back down, only to be met with the sight of those massive shoes only about two feet away from her.  

“You alright?” Cecilia flinched at the voice, “That looked pretty rough.” 

“I….I…” her lips quivered. 

“Why’d you come out this door? I could have moved out of-'' he paused, Cecilia tentatively looked back up to see the eyes of the giant before her narrow. “You cold or somethin’? You’re uh…” he chuckled, “You’re shaking.”  

To her horror, the enormous body before her started to get closer, bending down and taking up more of her vision if that was even possible. Her arms shot out in front of her, instinctively shielding herself. The movement around her stopped. She looked up to see Garret straighten back up, his eyes wide before something seemed to click in his brain. 

“Is it me?” 

[crazyunsexycool]

Imagine some new girl starting with the avengers as the same job role reader did, but she's on maternity leave as she's just had her and Bucky's first baby. This new girl has a massive crush on Bucky and flirts with him. One day reader brings Lottie and the baby to see everyone and when alone the new girl says something like "why are you parading Lottie around like she's yours when she's not" and says things that are untrue about Bucky, making out he flirts with her etc. And Bucky overhears the whole thing... his reaction? 👀👀👀

Oh get ready for this!

Warning:ANGSTY upset Charlotte, upset reader, insults, crying, babies, mentions of post baby bod, insecure reader

A/N Well this got out of hand quickly. I hope you like it

You wanted to surprise the team with a visit from you and the kids. Lottie walked beside the stroller holding your newborn as you made your way into the compound. You were currently in maternity leave which was wonderful but also could feel very lonely, especially when Bucky had been called back in before he was supposed to. It sometimes left you feeling lonely and in need of grown up interactions. But you couldn’t really complain, your newborn son was a joy and Charlotte was a wonderful big sister.

Once you were inside the familiar compound hallways you’d asked Friday where the team was and you were directed to one of the many living rooms.

“Daddy!” Charlotte exclaimed as she ran towards Bucky.

“Doll, what are you doing here?” He wrapped her in his arms and peppered kisses on her face. Lottie giggled as she tried to push him away.

“Hey, guys.” You say from the entryway.

“I call first dibs on holding my nephew.” Sam practically yells.

Everyone got up from their seats and walked over to you and the baby. Steve wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side. This is what you’d missed so much and you’re glad you decided to drop by.

“Well look at you, thank goodness you look like your mama.” Sam coos at the curious baby in his arms.

“Let me see him.” Nat pushes her way through Clint and Tony to stand besides Sam. He reluctantly hands over the band to Nat and everyone groans, the know she won’t let him go until you leave.

“Hey sugar,” he wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m so happy you dropped by.”

“Well I missed you and the team. But mostly you.”

“Can we go play outside uncle Stevie?” Lottie looks up at Steve with her big blue eyes and there’s no way he’ll say no.

“You heard my princess gentlemen. Outside lets go!” Steve grabs her hand and everyone starts to head out ready to do whatever she wanted.

“Daddy are you coming?”

He looks at her and back at you unsure of what to do but you push him in her direction.

“Go, I wanted to go say hello to Helen anyway.”

“Alright see you later.” He kisses your cheek and disappears.

“Will you be alright?”

“Go, we’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk into the lab where Helen spent most of her time but find it empty so you head further in and towards the back where she usually likes to sit. With no sign of her you decided to turn back and go hang out with Nat. You hear the door open so you call out.

“Helen is that you?”

“Who are you?” A young woman asked as she made her way towards you.

She was pretty, a few years younger than you. She had long blond hair and she was on the petite side. You recognized her immediately, Bucky had told you she would be the team’s field medic while you were on maternity leave.

“Im Y/N Barnes. I was looking for Helen. Do you know where she is?”

Her hazel eyes moved up and down your body before her face scrunched up in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

“You’re Bucky’s wife?”

“Yes, and you are?”

“Stacy Moore, you’re replacement.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lottie convinced the boys to play hide and seek. It was unfair, they were all to broad and bulky so their hiding places were limited, especially outside. But she was their sweet Angel so they played anyway. That was until Lottie ran crying toward Bucky.

His heart stopped and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The only thing that got him moving was her calling out for him. Bucky’s knees hit the floor in front of his girl and he immediately started checking for any cuts or scratches but she touched her head.

A vision.

She had gotten really good at breathing through them and explaining what she saw. It had been a while since she cried because of one.

“Daddy pwease don’t send me away. Pwease daddy. I’m good I pwomise.” She threw her arms around his neck as the others ran to see what was wrong.

“Doll let me look at you.” Bucky was able to pull back enough to see the red rimmed eyes of his little girl. “What makes you think I’d send you away?”

“The l-lady said i-it. I wanna stay daddy.” She choked out in between sobs. Bucky looked up at the others feeling helpless.

“What lady, princess?”

“Stacy. She told mommy you don’t love us. And that you want to send me away. And that mommy is not (r)weally my mommy.”

“Oh doll, that’s not true,” Bucky tried to calm her down as he stood. “I love you and mommy and your brother so much. Can you tell me where you saw mommy?”

She nods. “In Dr. Helen’s lab. Mommy is sad too.”

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

“Oh you’re covering while I’m on maternity leave.” You said, but there was something about the say she said replacement that didn’t sit well with you.

“Something like that.” She pursed her lips as she thought about how to hurt you. Stacy had her eyes on Bucky for the last few weeks and although she tried and failed to flirt with him. He wouldn’t even glance her way and she hated it. “You could say we’ve gotten really close recently. And after seeing you I can see why.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, it’s been what like 2 months since you’ve had your kid and you still look like a cow? No wonder he’s been flirting so much.”

“He does what?” You didn’t want to believe it and your wrap your arms around your midsection. You’d barely lost any of the baby weight but Bucky had assured you he loved you just the way you were. Saying that there was you had never looked more beautiful.

“And come on, you come in here parading around his daughter like if she was yours, you really have some nerve. He never even wanted to keep her but you just had to use her to get your hands on him. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about Bucky or our family.” You say through gritted teeth as you fought back tears that threatened to spill.

“Why, scared of hearing the truth? He told me he wanted to send Charlotte away so that he didn’t have to deal with her anymore. That he feels too tied down, he never wanted any of this but you didn’t give him a choice. How can you not see that he doesn’t love you?” She shrugs her shoulders.

She opens her mouth to insult you further but the door slams against the wall and Bucky rushes in. His worried eyes meet yours and he knows he was too late. Whatever she’s said has clearly affected you and he wanted to rip her to shreds.

“Get the fuck away from my wife.” Bucky growled at her. He stood face to face with her, his anger so raw and overflowing even you flinched when he spoke. “I don’t know what I have to do to make you understand I want nothing to do with you. She,” he pointed at you. “Is the only woman I have and will ever love. She is the mother of both my children and she has nothing to prove to someone like you. And if making my wife upset wasn’t enough you made my daughter cry because she thinks I’m locking her away somewhere.”

Stacy stood there, frozen in fear as she looked up at Bucky. “I-I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I don’t give a shit.”

Nat, who you didn’t realized had walked in with Bucky as well as Steve and Tony, grabbed her by her arm and yanked her. They were all angry.

“Say goodbye to the avengers and any posibilites if ever working in the medical field.” Steve said as he followed them out.

“You’ll be lucky if you can even by a slutty nurses costume by the time I’m done with you.” Tony added.

Bucky waited until they were gone before he turned to you. His eyes softened immediately and he cautiously walked towards you. But you wouldn’t look at him. You didn’t know what to think about the whole situation.

“How did you know?” You whisper.

“Lottie had a vision. She’s really upset and said you were too. I’m so sorry sugar. I promise nothing ever happened between Stacy and me. I always asked Steve to pair her with someone else because there was something about her I didn’t like.”

“Do you feel trapped? In this marriage and with the kids?”

Bucky scoffed, he didn’t mean to but that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“Are you kidding me sweetheart? I wanna have a lot more kids with you.” He finally puts a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him while his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “I was never truly free until I found you. And you gave me the one thing that I never thought I deserved, a family.” And then his lips were on yours gently. He told you everything he couldn’t put into words with that kiss.

“Let’s get our babies and lets go home, please.” You said after you pulled back breathless. There were still tears in your eyes and all you wanted was to be cuddled up with your three loves.

“I like the sound of that sugar.”

[forestshadow-wolf]

Trick or Treat!

Ao3 link || 2555 words

A novel concept if you think about it. what once started as a tradition to give a sacrifice in order to ward off ghosts – soap heard it started in France – now only a sacrifice of candy and sweets to children and the like.

Now soap sat in one of the loveseats in the rec-room, currently bugging the hell out of his lieutenant as he was trying to read. to be fair if the man really was annoyed, he'd tell soap to fuck off or he'd leave, so soap kept being a nuisance.

"You dressing up tonight, L.T.?" he had one leg thrown over the plush arm of the chair.

"What for, Johnny?" Ghost shot back with in an unamused tone, still not looking from his book. "Frankenstein" by Molly Wollstonecr- the rest of the author's name was cut off by ghost's fingers, soap idly noted.

"Fer Halloween." soap rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Aint that for kids? ' thought we were grown men in the military, last I checked." the Manc scrutinized, not even giving soap the time of day. speaking of which, it was still pretty light out and soap promised to help Gaz with his costume later.

"Nae! never too old for some free candy. besides even if there is don't you wanna dress up just for the hell of it, like when ye were a wee one?"

"Never done it before, don't see why I should do it now." ghost grumbled.

"Wha-! yu've never gone trick or treatin'? now yer jus pullin my leg." soap sputtered.

"Johnny, why would I lie?"

Soap frowned. well that's not very Halloween-y. he made up his mind then and there, time to make the skeleton man himself into the pinnacle of Halloween. he pulled out his phone and shot gaz a quick text.

~-~-~-~-~

Bubbles 🫧: gonna b l8

Hatman🧢: K

Hatman🧢: Y ?

Bubbles 🫧:  👻 never been🚪2🚪

Hatman🧢: 👍

Hatman🧢: need help?

Bubbles 🫧: set up 🍬? gonna take him out 2nite

Bubbles 🫧: i'll help u after I get him done

Hatman🧢: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: thx

~-~-~-~-~

"c'mon then, we've got some major work to do."

"what are you talkin' about?"

"I mean we've just been assigned a new mission." soap chuckled as he swung his leg off the arm of the chair and stood up.

"and what might this new mission be? and why wasn't I informed first?" said suspiciously, closing his book.

"'cus it's a special mission for me, I just need your help to complete it." he offered a hand to pull ghost up.

"uh-huh..." ghost took the hand, even as suspicion dripped from his voice, and soap could practically feel the narrowed eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

"sit." soap demanded as they entered his room. ghost took a seat on the bed, and soap set his hands on his hips. "so, what do ya wanna be?"

"... huh?"

"for Halloween."

"I thought you were supposed to be working on a mission, Johnny, not fuckin' 'round with Halloween costumes." ghost asked

"I am. what do you want to dress up as?" soap answered, as he sorted through his closet. "I got a vampire, though it might be a bit small on ya. Zombie but between you and me it's a little cliche. or- OOH! I have just the thing. wait here!"

soap sprinted down out the door and down the hallway, nearly pushing people out of his way in his haste. he flung open the door to the linen closet and grabbed the first set of whites that he saw — which was surprisingly hard to find amongst all the camo green and grey.

ghost was looking at the pile of crafts on his desk when he got back. he reached around ghost for a marker and scissors.

"ok stand up straight." he panted enthusiastically, unable to wipe off the grin plastered to his face. ghost did so, after a moment of staring at soap like he'd gone insane— which granted he might have but that was besides the point, because that had happened long ago.

as soon as the brit complied soap threw the sheet over ghost's massive frame.

"the fuck are you doing, Johnny?" ghost growled,as he fought off the fabric. soap shoved the marker and scissors in his mouth so he could catch ghost's hands in his own. as soon as soap grabbed him, he stopped struggling, and soap spit out the items in his mouth.

"jus hold still, I'm trynna do somethin'."

ghost sighed, but did as he was told. soap fixed the sheet so that is lay more evenly on his head and around his shoulders, it was oriented so that the corners were at the sides and front and back of ghost, and just barely dragged on the floor. he uncapped the marker and marked two little spots where the hard plate of Ghost's mask outlined his eyes. finally he allowed ghost to pull the sheet off. he phone buzzed in his pocket as he was handed the cloth.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: recruited 💰

Hatman🧢: progress?

Bubbles 🫧: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: made him a 👻

Hatman🧢: 🤨

Hatman🧢: how original...

Bubbles 🫧: shut it 😡

Bubbles 🫧: it's funny

Hatman🧢: ...yuh huh-...😭

Bubbles 🫧: just do ur job chuckles mcgee

Hatman🧢: 🫡

Bubbles 🫧: 🖕

~-~-~-~-~

he shoved his phone in his pocket again, and got to work on cutting out some eye holes. this was definitely coming out of his paycheck later, or someone's gonna get some awkward linens. ghost went back to browsing his desk. he wanted to get the holes as close to symmetrical as possible without marking it because they really didn't have time to put it in the wash.

"what's this, Johnny?" ghost broke the silence. soap looked up from and saw ghost holding up the red skull from his costume.

"ah it's for my costume. I figured I'd go as you this year, but obviously I couldn't steal your thunder so a took some creative liberties." he said, ignoring the heat flaring in his cheeks — he refused to be embarrassed about it. why should he be, it's just a costume.

ghost hummed and set it back on the desk, before picking up the shirt and pants he'd picked out. soap went back to evening the holes of the sheet, being careful not to make them too big.

"you keep all your costumes?"

"uhh.. only the ones I worked hard on." he said absentmindedly, holding up the sheet to see how it looked. "'k come 'ere."

ghost walked over and soap threw the sheet over his head again, adjusting it so that it was oriented the right way. then he stepped back to see his handiwork. all things considered it looked pretty good.

"you'll have ta go without the mask or it'll make the look bulky, we might reapply the eye black. I'd say it's a sucessful costume." soap rambled, making micro adjustments to the sheet.

"we?"

"er- you. I mean you, don't really need my help with that I suppose." he stumbled over his words, having realized his mistake.

"wouldn't mind the help. if that's cool with you."

"cool. yeah cool. awesome. totally cool."

"Johnny."

"yeah i'd be happy to help."

"why are ghosts always cowards."

that shocked soap out of his idiotic stupor. "huh?"... intelligent, MacTavish...

"'t's 'cus they've got no guts."

"aye 'n' beil yer heild." soap huffed. "terrible."

soap's phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: done. it's getting dark

Hatman🧢: progress?

Hatman🧢: gonna need 2 start on mine soon

Bubbles 🫧: done

Bubbles 🫧: ur room meet in 5

~-~-~-~-~

"gotta run, L.T., gaz needs help suitin' up. so... I guess i'll come by your room when I'm done?"

"sure. see you then."

soap nodded, and then he was off, speedwalking through the halls — mentally cursing whoever put his and Gaz's room all the way across base from each other. like what kind of system is it to split up a task force, that just seems idiotic and impractical.

he did eventually make it. and by eventually he means like... 3 minutes of faster than average walking speed. he's impatient, OKAY! whatever.

when he opened the door to Gaz's room the man was attempting to zip up his dress. it was form-fitting, and on the shorter side— ending around the mid-thigh area, if his father saw any of his sisters wearing it, he might have told them to go change —and just looked expensive. soap won't claim to be a fashion expert, but he'd say that it complemented Gaz's skin complexion rather well.

"are you just gonna laugh at me struggling or are you gonna help me zip the damn thing up, Soap." gaz hissed at him. soap snickered but helped him nonetheless.

"makeup or corset next? we can do the accessories after."

"lets do makeup so I can breath while it's done."

logical. soap respected that.

"fair enough. hey, remind me to tell my sisters thanks for making me help them with their makeup."

"so needy, Tav." gaz joked, and gave him a nod.

soap gave him a playful shove as he reached for the pallet of eyeshadow, and eyeliner.

"so i'm thinkin' a smokey eye, then some wings. we should have gotten you some pink lashes to go, but oh well."

"sounds good."

admittedly soap was a little rusty, since it'd been a while since he's had any practice doing makeup, but it turned out okay. the eyeliner was the hardest part since he didn't want to stab out gaz's eye, but all in all, things could have been much worse.

"did you know you stuck out your tongue when you're concentrating?" gaz mused.

"aye, I get it from my dad." soap laughed. "okay, up. lets do the corset now. what time's it?"

"almost 7." gaz said, checking his phone as he stood up.

soap helped him slip it on, then started lacing it up. he made quick work of it, not unfamiliar with lacing up corsets either. he supposed that growing up in a large family of almost all girls would give someone a wide variety of skills. he was careful not to make it so tight that gaz couldn't breathe, but tight enough to hug his body like the dress.

"'k choker, then nails. think you can do the rest yourself? I promised to help ghost as well, and i still need to get my costume as well."

"yeah, yeah. for sure."

soap helped him clasp the pastel pink choker around gaz's neck, then helped him don the red press-on nails, and he was out the door. he made a stop at his room for his costume, hoping that ghost would let him use his bathroom.

he arrived with a knock, and it opened for him easily, with ghost's greeting call.

"if you wanna take off the mask, and put the sheet on I can- " he was cut off when ghost pulled the balaclava off in front of him without much fanfare, just shaking his blond curls out with a gloved hand. soap quickly shook himself out of his stupor and tossed the sheet over ghost, fixing it so it sat correctly over his head.

"how's it look, Johnny?"

"definitely needs the eye black for contrast." he hummed. "can I pull this up?" he asked, tugging the front of the sheet up just a bit. ghost nodded and flipped it over so the front of his face was exposed.

soap grabbed the eye black from the desk and started applying it in thick steady swipes of his fingers. ghost let him do as he pleased, even closing his eyes to let soap get over his eyelids too. it was over just a little too quickly for soap's preference, but he pulled the sheet down and, stepped back anyways.

"ah, can I steal your bathroom for like, 5 minutes, I havenae had a chance to change yet."

"'course. I'll help you do your eye black when you're done." ghost nodded.

soap threw a thanks over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. he threw on the jeans and hoodie first, next came the holsters, which he strapped tightly to his thighs to accentuate his ass because that's what ghost does. he's sure of it. last he put the soft balaclava, and opened the bathroom door, with the red skull-plate in hand.

ghost had him sit on his bed, as he shucked off his gloves.

"what instrument do skeletons play?" soap smiled. "the trom-bone." he said at ghost's look

"Christ, Johnny, that was worse than my own." ghost chuckled.

ghost knelt between his legs as he applied the stuff to his eyes, and he likewise closed his eyes to let him work. and again it was over far too quickly. but ghost gave him a few extra seconds by attaching the red skull-plate for him as well.

"thanks." soap breathed, and ghost nodded. "wanna go get gaz, the see what Price decided to wear?"

"sure. hey- what happened to your oh-so mysterious mission?"

"this is my mission. we're going trick-or-treating." soap smiled.

"sly dog." ghost laughed, leading the way out of his door.

they got to gaz's door in no time.

"gaz! we're ready! lets go find the captain" he yelled, pounding on the door.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'" gaz laughed as he walked out. "looks good, Ghost."

"thanks. it was Johnny's work." ghost nodded.

"ach, it's nothin'" he waved them off. "any of ye know what Price is? he wouldnae tell me."

he got a resounding no as an answer... up until they got to price's office and knocked on the door. said man proceeded to open the door with a fishing pole in hand.

"how creative, cap."

"look it was short notice." then man defended.

"aye, except that I had time to make ghost a costume- " soap rebutted.

"it's a Linnen with holes in it." price interjected.

"help gaz into his costume— which looks fantastic if i do say so myself. and get changed into my own costume after helping ghost." soap powered on.

"whatever." price waved him off with a smile, and soap let it go with a laugh. " we all ready?"

soap and gaz nodded, and assumably ghost too from the movement of the sheet. then they were all making their way through base, going from door to door with pillowcases in hand. they all fit right in with the younger members of base that were trick or treating, and everyone else was dressed up as vampires and werewolves and whatever else they fancied. the longer they were out the more fun it seemed ghost was having, and there hadn't even been any alcohol involved... yet. that would come after collecting candy, so that they could get piss drunk and eat enough candy to make them throw up.

they did make quiet a posse though. a ghost, a Ghost, a witch, and a fisherman. quite an odd combination, but if that didn't capture the high school experience of trick or treating then what did? once all was said and done, they even did the after trick or treating ritual of candy trades- one of his favorite parts, if he's honest.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(Part 4)

previous // next // story index

———

"How're you holding up, kid?"

Beth-Anne wraps both hands around the extra-large takeaway coffee cup and closes her eyes, concentrating on the soothing heat working its way into her fingers. She and Stan are in the corridor outside Nikolai's hospital room. It's eight in the morning, and the hospital staff have just finished bringing breakfast around to all the patients.

From inside the room, Beth-Anne can hear Ginger coaxing Nikolai to eat his oatmeal, "Because if you don't eat it, I will. Carbs be damned."

She sighs. "I'm okay, I guess."

"Now, remember who you're talking to," Stan says.

She lets another sigh escape, opens her eyes and raises her gaze to meet his. "I'm tired."

"You should go home and try to get some rest."

"I can't," she says. "I promised Nikolai I wouldn't leave him."

"Ginger and I can stay with him for a while. He won't be alone."

"But, what about Ginger's ice time?" she protests. "I mean, she qualified for Worlds. That date will be coming up faster than you realize."

"What do I always say? People before practice." He smiles. "That's why you asked me to get in touch with Brett and Mariah about their ice time today, isn't it?"

With a stab of guilt, she realizes she'd momentarily forgotten about Mariah and Brett. "I need to call them myself. I should apologize. And I'll have to call little Eden's parents too. He's got a thing next weekend that we're supposed to be getting ready for."

"You should call them," Stan agrees. "But, you shouldn't apologize. Just explain what's happening. They'll understand."

"Brett qualified for Junior Worlds," she says, half to herself. "Damn it! That's only—"

"Beth-Anne.” Stan holds up a hand. “Brain open, mouth closed."

"You haven't said that to me in..."

"A long time," he inserts quickly. "But it seems like you need it at the moment."

"You're right. I do."

"I put up a notice about your group lessons before I came over here, so that's taken care of," he says. "Now, listen to me for a minute. A missed day of training or two isn't going to hurt Brett at this point. If he's not ready for Junior Worlds by now, he's not ready for Junior Worlds. Understand?"

She nods. "I see what you mean."

"And if you're worried about me and Ginger, I can tell you a day off isn't going to harm her chances either. Besides, do you really think her heart would be in it today anyway, with her best friend in the hospital?"

"No, I suppose not," Beth-Anne concedes.

She sips her coffee. From behind the partially-closed door of the room, Nikolai's voice drifts out. "Ginger! Oh my God... stop. My hands still work, you know. I can feed myself."

This is followed by laughter from Ginger. "There. Mission accomplished! If I couldn't badger you into eating, I knew I could manipulate you into it."

Nikolai makes a strangled noise, as if he's trying not to laugh and inadvertently spit out a mouthful of oatmeal in the process. He sputters, coughs and then declares, "You are the living end, Vivienne Holmes."

She replies mildly, "Finish your breakfast, Nikolai."

Beth-Anne smiles, her worry easing slightly. Nikolai seems more like himself this morning, and it's clear that Ginger's presence is doing him good. He always seems to be happier and more relaxed when Ginger is around.

Perhaps Stan is right. Maybe it would be okay to leave for a couple of hours. She could go home, clean up the kitchen, and get the downstairs bedroom ready for Nikolai. She might even do a quick grocery run.

Peanut butter, she tells herself. She'll have to remember to get peanut butter when she goes to the supermarket. She rarely eats it herself, but Nikolai's taste for it has practically reached legendary status at this point, thanks in no small part to a handful of sports reporters at Skate America a few years back. The figure skating world had laughed collectively when a photo of Nikolai skating around at practice with a massive jar of peanut butter the girls had given him appeared in several online publications with the dubious tagline 'Peanormous'.

All Beth-Anne could do when she'd seen it was shake her head. The random nonsense regularly generated by Nikolai and his friends had been one of her biggest frustrations at the time. Now, she finds herself wishing for those times to come back. Some weird condiment-related publicity would be mild in comparison to what they're facing at the moment.

Beside her, Stan idly swirls his cold brew with the straw that's sticking out of it. Even in the dead of winter, he loves his cold drinks.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"Too much, honestly," she answers. "How the hell did we get here? I mean, not that I begrudge Nikolai anything. I love him like he's mine, but how is it that I'm the one who's taking care of him? It's not as if his real family doesn't know what's going on. And where the fuck is Anya when he needs her?"

"You're angry," he observes.

"Damn straight," she says. 'Do you know, that woman had the audacity to kick me out of their house because she said I was hurting Nikolai? And then what does she do? She runs off and leaves him completely alone for three days. He fell down the goddamned stairs, Stan! Because she put his crutches upstairs and out of reach. And I'm supposed to be the one who's hurting him?"

Stan frowns. "That's not good."

"That's an understatement."

"Even so, you know it's none of your business. Their marital troubles, I mean."

"I think it became my business when he phoned me in the middle of the night, sobbing and telling me he didn't want to be here any more," she says. "I was terrified. I think I broke every speed limit on the way over there, and when I got there and saw the mess he was in and realized he was on his own—"

She has to stop and take a deep breath to calm herself. She's still not over what happened last night.

"Okay, yes. I suppose that part is your business now," Stan concedes. "But their marriage still isn't."

"You know what?" she says. "I honestly don't care about their marriage, if you can even call that fucked-up situation a marriage. Do I think he'd be better off if they weren't together? Hell yeah. And do I wish she'd stay far away from him? Yes I do, but I'm not going to interfere. I have enough on the go without intentionally looking for trouble."

"Good." Stan nods. "Stay out of it as much as you're able to. But just so you know, I think you're doing the right thing by taking him in."

"Thanks. It feels right."

"It's probably not going to do much for your love life, though."

Beth-Anne snorts and nearly spits out a mouthful of coffee. "Jesus, Stan! Where did that come from?"

"What?" His attempt at feigning innocence is an utter failure.

"You think I've had a woman in my bed lately? I'll probably have better luck catching one with Nik there than without him."

"Oh?" He quirks an eyebrow. "Came for the boy, stayed for the girl?"

She groans. "Oh my God. I know what comes next. Don't even say it."

He says it anyway, deadpan. "Came for the girl."

She laughs out loud. The emotional release is unexpected, and most of the tension leaves her body all at once. It feels good, but unfortunately it also clears the way for her to grasp exactly how wiped out she is. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to go home, take a hot bath and then crawl into bed.

But, she can't do that. Not yet, anyway.

Stan is watching her. "Better?"

"Sort of. You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I don't know why you have to ask," he says. "You know I did."

"Because you thought I needed it?"

"Didn't you?"

"How is it even possible that you know me better than I know myself?" she wonders aloud. "You always know what to do."

"Not always, but I try," he says. "So, what's your plan?"

"For right now, you mean?" she says. "If you or Ginger can stay here for a couple hours, I'll go home and straighten the place up a bit."

"Okay," he says. "I can stay, and I'm sure Ginger won't mind staying."

"Thanks."

"You want to go in and tell him now?"

"Yeah," she replies. "No time like the present, I guess."

When they enter the room, they find Nikolai and Ginger both sitting on the bed. He's finished his breakfast, and the two of them are huddled together, looking at a sports magazine Ginger brought for him. She'd obviously smuggled in some candy for him as well. The obnoxiously bright plastic bag is open and resting on the leg of one of them or the other. It's a little hard to tell exactly which, since they're so close to each other and Ginger is tucked under the thin hospital blanket too. Beth-Anne notices Ginger's shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Both skaters look startled and guilty when they notice their coaches' presence in the room. Ginger palms the bag of Jelly Fruit and attempts to conceal it beneath the blanket.

Stan clears his throat in a deliberate and exaggerated way. "Are we interrupting something here?"

This is met by an an awkward, "Uh..." from Nikolai.

Almost simultaneously, Ginger responds with, "Ah, no... not really?"

"You two have been trouble since the day I met you," Stan says, but there's no trace of annoyance or anger in his voice, only fondness and slight exasperation. "I hope you read the label before you started filling yourself with those sweets, Ginger."

Ginger holds up two fingers. "We've only had two pieces each. Right, Nik?"

Nikolai's voice says "Right," but his expression says something else entirely, and Beth-Anne doesn't need to be a mind reader to know both of them have had more than two candies each. Part of her wants to admonish Nikolai out of habit, but she lets it go. He can eat whatever he wants, now that he's not competing.

The reality of that hits her like a sudden punch in the gut, and she fights to keep from showing it on her face. She conjures up a smile somehow, and echoes Stan's sentiment. "Goddamned troublemakers, the pair of you."

"But you still love us, don't you?" Ginger says.

"Of course we do," says Stan. "But that doesn't mean you're not a pain in the ass. No more candy today. Understand?"

She grins at him. "There's always tomorrow."

Stan makes a gesture of surrender. "I give up."

There's movement under the blanket and then Nikolai's hand emerges with the bag of candy. "I guess the rest of these are mine."

He glances at Beth-Anne as if seeking permission, and she spreads her arms in the same way Stan had done. "I can't stop you, can I?"

"Boo," Ginger says. "You know those are my favourite."

"I'll owe you a bag," Nikolai tells her. "In the off-season, we'll sneak off somewhere and eat as much junk food as we want. I'll get you some of these, and I won't even make you share."

"We'll pretend we didn't hear that," Stan says.

There's an uncomfortable lull in the conversation following that. Nikolai and Ginger both understand the boundaries their coaches have set for them. He leans over and places the bag of candy on the tray table next to his empty breakfast dishes. As soon as he settles back into his original position. Ginger reaches for his hand, and they intertwine their fingers.

On the first day she'd met them, they'd done that after being scolded, Beth-Anne recalls. She can still picture them as they were back then, two hyperactive teenagers; Ginger with her easy laugh and boundless energy, and Nikolai with his mischievous little grin and propensity for unexpected hugs. It's hard to believe that was ten years ago. She's watched them change and grow in so many ways, but even after a decade, some things about them haven't changed at all.

As she observes Nikolai and Ginger, she tries to think of the gentlest way to tell Nikolai she's leaving. He seems to be in good spirits at the moment, but she's concerned his mood is tenuous, and she doesn't want to upset him.

She puts her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and shifts most of her weight off her bad leg. Her hip is throbbing dully. It's not overwhelmingly painful, and she knows it's nothing that an ibuprofen tablet won't cure, but it's screwing up her concentration and making her unable to come up with anything that doesn't sound either scripted or patronizing.

Damn it... I just need to hold myself together for a little longer. I need to get out of here with no fuss, and then I can crash when I get home.

Nikolai, sensitive and perceptive as ever, evidently takes notice of her change in posture. He says tentatively, "Beth-Anne, are you okay?"

"I'm good," she says. "My hip's aching a little, that's all. Sign of old age, I guess."

"That's not true. You're not old." He chews on his lower lip as his gaze travels around the room and eventually comes to rest on the plastic chair. He stares at it for a second or two, and then says quietly. "Oh my God. It's that chair. You sat there all night, didn't you? It's my fault. I'm sorry. I didn't realize—"

"No. It's okay," she says, wanting to forestall the rising panic she can hear in his voice. "I actually didn't sit there all night. I was walking around a lot. Don't worry. It's not your fault."

"Maybe... maybe you should go home and rest."

"Are you sure?" she asks. She hadn't expected him to suggest that she leave, but she's grateful he's the one to have brought it up. She won't worry less about leaving him, but at least this way she thinks she'll feel far less guilty.

"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to stay here if you're in pain either." He shakes his head. "This is so messed up."

"It's not messed up," she says. "Some over-the-counter pain medication will fix everything."

"That's not what I mean," he says. "I don't know why I'm like this. Like, a minute ago, I thought I was fine, but now I'm... not sure. Not scared, exactly, but… anxious?"

"Why are you anxious?" she asks.

"I don't know why. It's like, I'm scared that if you leave, something bad is going to happen, but I don't know what and I don't even know why I think that. It makes no sense. It's..." He lets the sentence fade, unfinished, and lowers his eyes. "Sorry."

"it's okay, sweetheart. You don't need to be sorry," Beth-Anne steps forward to hug him, and he hangs onto her as tightly as he had the night before, when she'd first found him in his front hallway.

"If you leave, you'll still come back later, right?"

"Yes, probably around lunchtime. Ginger and Stan are going to hang out with you for a while, and by the time I get back, maybe the doctor will be ready to let you go."

"What if he doesn't let me go by lunchtime?"

"Then I'll stay with you until he does, but I can't see him keeping you much longer. He only wanted you to be here for observation, likely just until the medication wore off."

"I think it's worn off already," he says.

"If you think you need something else, you can ask the nurse."

"I can't," he practically whispers.

"If you can't ask by yourself, I'll help you," Stan intervenes. "Why don't you let Beth-Anne go and take care of whatever she needs to do? Ginger and I can look after you in the meantime."

"That's right," Ginger adds. "And if it's cuddling you're looking for, you know I'm brilliant at that. Hugs before drugs."

Stan makes a nondescript noise that might be the offspring of a laugh and a grunt, and says to no one in particular. "This is the child I've raised."

Ginger laughs. "You've done well, Stan. I wouldn't be who I am today without you."

Nikolai hesitates, but finally acquiesces and releases Beth-Anne from his almost desperate hold. "Okay," he says. "You can go now, but you have to promise you'll come back."

"I promise I will," Beth-Anne assures him. "Is there anything you want me to get from your house while I'm out?"

"I don't know. My glasses and my toothbrush. A change of clothes. I can't think of anything else right now."

"That's fine," she says. "That should get you through the rest of the day anyway. Tomorrow, I can take you over there and help you pack up anything else you're going to need at my place. Sound good?"

He nods. "Yeah. Thank you."

Satisfied for the moment that Nikolai is in safe hands, Beth-Anne says farewell and makes her way out of the hospital as quickly as she can, before she changes her mind about it.

She doesn't know how she and Nikolai are going to cope over the next few days, but she insists to herself that they'll get through it just like they've gotten through every other difficult situation they've encountered so far. She wants to be optimistic, telling herself that once Nikolai has been in a safe, stable environment for a while, he'll be less clingy and scared, and he'll start to feel better.

Staying occupied will help too, she thinks. She'll have to come up with some ideas to keep him busy until he's ready to venture out into the world again, because she certainly won't have him sitting around on the couch all day doing nothing and sinking deeper into the chasm of depression, hopelessness and self-pity. When he's able to be up and around... Well, she knows exactly how she's going to occupy him then, and she's already resolved not to take no for an answer.

The biggest problem she hasn't devised a solution for at this point is Anya. She has no clue where Anya is, whether or not she'll be back, or whether she'll want to see Nikolai if she does return. One thing she is reasonably certain about however, is that if Anya comes back and discovers Nikolai isn't at home, Beth-Anne's home is the first place she'll look for him.

Beth-Anne has absolutely no intention of letting Anya into her house. She knows she can't stop Nikolai from seeing his wife if he wants to, and she'd already told Stan that she doesn't plan on interfering in their marriage, but there's no way in hell she'll allow a potential confrontation between them to take place under her roof.

She'll have to discuss everything with Nikolai when he's feeling up to it, she concludes. He may say he doesn't want to see Anya at all, and that would make the solution a simple one, but she suspects it's not going to be that straightforward.

Nothing's ever easy, is it? says a little voice in the back of her mind.

No, most things aren't, she concedes, but she knows from experience there are outcomes that are worth the effort and people who are worth making an effort for. Stan likes to say 'people before practice', and Beth-Anne believes wholeheartedly in that.

People before almost everything else, because other than the basic necessities of survival, nothing matters more than people and the connections they build in one another's lives.

[tarabyte3]

I Want You to Show Me Weak

Fandom: Andor

Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader

Chapter 21/27 (3.4k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

<- Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 ->

Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst, orgasm denial, humiliation, slut shaming, references to domestic abuse, discussion of domestic abuse, minor violence, discussion of violence, description of violence

A/N: This chapter was supposed to have 2 scenes because I thought the first one was too short to post as its own chapter (it wasn't 🤦🏻‍♀️). Unfortunately the second scene is one I want to get right, so it was slowing the whole thing down. Instead I split them up again so you all have something while I work on the massive endeavor that has become chapter 22. Enjoy! Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Pyrokinesis" by 7Chariot. Chapter navigation above.

AO3 Link

Chapter 21 - You're setting me on fire, I don't wanna fight it. You don't need a lighter, you're a flame.

Finding Taybus isn't difficult. It's finding Taybus alone outside of your shift that's hard. He's always with Vage. And while you're excited for him because he's clearly gotten past his awkwardness and fear and is happy, you also feel a stab of jealousy. Because he's able to spend so much time with Vage. Can stand close to him, bow his head in secrecy and whisper, stare at him in adoration when he laughs at a joke, not have to worry about stares or favoritism or jobs.

It doesn't feel good to remember you can't have that. It especially doesn't feel good to be jealous that your friend can. Because he deserves that. He's so young. He's missing out on dating and making mistakes and figuring himself out and living because he's stuck in there. He deserves a reprieve and to feel his age. To have one spot of joy when he tentatively rests his hand on Vage's forearm, and Vage blushes so hard the pink of his cheeks is visible on his tanned skin.

Then you remember you get to spend part of your evenings with Kino in your bed and between your legs. Get to feel his bare skin against yours however you wish as he buries himself in you, and you exhale his name like a prayer. And he doesn't hold your hand, but he holds your throat, your hair, your hip. That's better, you think, because it's not holding back. It's not the only affection he's allowed to show you.

Suddenly your own prospects don't seem so bad.

You're interrupted from your discreet staring by Threl stepping up beside you.

"Feeling social?" He teases.

"Something like that," you give him a quick, wry glance out of the corner of your eye. Then Taybus laughs and your face softens. "He seems happy."

"He does, doesn't he?" Threl follows your line of sight to where Taybus is practically gleeful as Vage talks excitedly about something you can't hear at this distance. "Thanks to you, you know."

"Vage was already interested. I barely had to do anything," you shrug. "I merely gave him a push."

"Don't down play it," he scolds you. "You and Alis stepped up for him in a way I don't think anyone ever had before."

"I'm just sorry he had to go to prison to finally get that when he should've had it already. He deserved to have it, and it isn't fair he didn't," you lament.

Threl turns his head to stare at you. "You're a bit maudlin this evening."

"I'm actually in a good mood, I swear," you chuckle. "I had a great talk with Sorrek. Got me thinking about my own parents. So maybe a bit maudlin."

"Oh, you two finally work things out?" He sounds cautiously optimistic.

"Yeah." You finally pull your attention away from the new couple. "He opened up to me about his past and apologized for the misunderstanding. It was hard to stay mad at him after that."

Threl looks impressed. "I imagine so. He tell you about his daughter?"

"He did," you sigh heavily. "I had guessed he had kids, but I never would have guessed half of that. I mean it's Sorrek." You shake your head. "He's a good man."

"He sure is," he says quietly.

"I actually came out here to check on Taybus. I haven't gotten any updates on 'operation get the kid laid' recently, but I can see things are going well."

"They've been like that for a few days now. I couldn't tell you if there are any new updates because I try to give them privacy, but if there aren't, there will be soon." He gives them a meaningful look just as Vage bumps Taybus with his shoulder and smiles shyly up at him.

"Poor kids can't even make out in peace," you mumble. "What are the odds everyone would let them hide at the end of the hallway and just…not watch?"

"You know, I've been thinking about that, actually."

"About getting them to make out? Because if you have a plan, I'm onboard." You lean in conspiratorially.

"Or a way to let them."

"I'm still listening."

"I couldn't fall asleep the other night so I ended up just staring over the side of my bed, and…" He looks around to see if anyone is paying attention. "How do they fry two people in a cell if they aren't touching the floor?"

You tilt your head in interest. "What do you mean?"

"The panels," he gestures to the cell you're both standing near and takes a step towards it, "they're only visible on the floor, and I don't think there are any in the bench or the bed. They're that same thick polycarbonate composite material the walls and work tables are made out of. Which could theoretically be conductive with the right filler, but I've seen people touch the walls and tables when the floors are activated, and they don't react to those. Only the floor panels. And the resistance of plastic means the panels wouldn't be as effective when layered underneath because everything in here has to be very thick to be durable enough to last. It might not stop or kill someone like they would intend, and that would be a big risk I don't think they would be willing to take. In fact, the bed even has the mattress as an extra layer of insulation." He turns to give you a meaningful look. "They're relying on the floors, but you can't fry if you're not touching them."

"So. You think you can get around the occupancy limit if you climb directly onto the bench and bypass the floor?"

"That's exactly what I think. Both people keep to the bench, keep their feet up…" He scans the interior of the cell again. "It could work."

"You don't think they considered that?" You sound doubtful, but as you look at where the metal panels end along the trim of the floor, you know he's onto something.

"I think they considered plenty of deterrents so no one's tried it or thought of it. They tell us to get into bed when they fully activate the block. Make us think that's the only safe place so we assume what?" He pauses expectantly.

"That the benches aren't safe either," you say in disbelief.

"Exactly. All they have to do to keep us in line is make sure there's the threat of getting fried. Before this conversation, would you have tried it?"

"I suppose not," you mumble. You start to think about all the times you've sat on your bed or bench while someone else leaned in on the seat to chat. How it's the default way people hang out by the cells. There might be a reason for that. It's away from the floor. It's safe. But they're still putting some of their weight on it. And it's never activated a cell.

You turn to him, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "Let's test it."

"Are you serious?" He looks at you in disbelief. "You prepared to feel like you got hit by a transport all night if we're wrong? Because I assumed you had a hot date with Kino tonight."

"I have a very very hot, sexy date with Kino tonight, but I also know you aren't wrong, so yeah. I'm willing to take the risk."

He shakes his head. "Alright."

"Who's cell is this?"

"Uhhh, this is table 5, so…" Threl looks around, then calls out down the hall, "Hey Xaul, can we borrow your cell real quick? It's for a good reason, I promise."

A tall red head that you've made small talk with once before blinks at Threl in confusion. "You want to what?"

"Borrow—" Threl sighs in exasperation. "Just come here for a second, if you don't mind."

Xaul hesitates and looks between the two of you, as if he's trying to decide if he wants anything to do with whatever you're clearly plotting. Then he leaves the conversation he was having with a few other members of his table and cautiously walks over. "Did you say borrow my cell?"

"Threl thinks there aren't any tungstoid panels in the benches. That they can't fry two people in a cell if they don't touch the floor while both people are in there," you explain.

Xaul leans around you to look at the floor and the bench for a moment, thinking about what you said. He must see something because then he moves past you to get a closer look. He kneels down in the hall, his hand tracing along the seams of the metal trim along the cell floor. The same part that caught your attention. You and Threl watch him poke and push on the steel and the wall before moving onto the bench. He repeats the same thing there, even knocking on the sides, listening for the dense thunk of metal beneath.

Finally, he says, "The edge of the metal isn't flush with the edge of the wall panel. There's a lip. The steel sticks out by maybe two centimeters. Easy to miss. Look," he leans to the side as he points. "The tungstoid panels are set into reliefs against the wall material, like tile. The wall would have to be the piece to overlap if the steel continued up behind it or into the bench."

"Meaning…?" You prompt.

"Meaning it stops there, just like you see." He stands up and turns to Threl, and his expression is almost troubled. "I think you're right."

Threl grins. "I think so too."

"You were going to test it?" He looks at you.

"Yeah. I was going to take the risk if we were wrong." For Taybus, you think.

"Who's your number two?" He gives Threl a meaningful glance.

"I hadn't agreed to it yet," Threl looks a little nervous, and you don't particularly blame him. Getting fried fucking sucks. There's a reason they use it as punishment.

"It's my cell. I'll do it." Xaul doesn't wait for a response. He steps into his cell and climbs directly onto his bench. Then he settles in and sits cross legged—careful not to touch anything but the seat—facing you. "Are you going to just climb up the side?"

You judge the height and do some quick mental calculations about your own upper body strength and momentum. "Something like that." You look up at him and give him a serious look. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," he nods, his face stern in anticipation. "Yeah, I'm ready."

You take a step back and shoo Threl off to the side to give you space. "Threl, do me a favor? If we get fried, pull me off the second it stops so they don't activate it again, okay?"

"Okay, kid," Threl says warily. "Be careful."

You take a deep breath and walk in a little circle as you start to psych yourself up, and you notice the three of you have started gathering attention. People are aware something is going on and now they're curious. Even Alis is working his way expertly through the crowd to see what you're up to, brows furrowed in confusion and a question on his lips.

But before he can say anything, you wink at him and take a few running steps towards the bench. You plant your hands wide, push hard to lift yourself off the floor as quickly as you can, and then use your momentum to pull your legs up onto the seat so you're squatting there. It's a little inelegant, but it gets you straight inside without touching anything but the top of the bench.

For a moment, everything stops. The voices in the hall, your momentum, Xaul's anticipatory wince. Even your own heart and time freeze around you, like the whole block is holding its breath.

And then nothing happens.

Xaul is on one end of the bench, staring around in shock, and you're on the other end, trying not to move too much out of anxiety. Neither of you are frying. There are no alarms. No voices from the speakers in the ceiling. Nothing.

Xaul looks at you and lets out an incredulous laugh. You grin back at him, slightly manic with relief. With tiny shuffles, you carefully turn to face the hallway where you're greeted by over a dozen slack jawed and wide eyed expressions of shock.

"It fucking works!" You shout. "There are no panels in the benches. If you don't touch the floor and hop straight in, you can have two people inside and not fry!"

There are murmurs of confusion and a few shouts of disbelief. Then someone down the hall is climbing into a cell to try it for themselves. You aren't even sure it's his cell. A few seconds later, a man from table 3 is hopping onto the bench and in after him. From inside the space, you hear excited shouting and table 3 pokes his head out. "She's right!"

Alis walks over and he's frowning at you. "Please, please tell me you didn't just experiment using your own body to test whether or not this would get you fried."

"It's called testing a hypothesis, Alis." You say smugly.

"That doesn't make it okay!" He nearly shrieks. "You should have told me! I could have tested it! We both know I'm the faster one!"

"Oh, you're just jealous we came up with this without you," you huff. "Now move so I can hop down and give Xaul his cell back." Xaul is still sitting behind you, staring at where you're touching the bench in shock.

Alis steps to the side and you hop down. You stumble slightly because your legs are a little wobbly from adrenaline, but you land safely with a slap of bare feet on steel.

"I'm not jealous, I'm fucking worried."

"It was fine," you wave it off. "Threl and I wanted to see if we could find a way to help out Taybus and Vage."

"Okay. That's really thoughtful, but doesn't make it any less stupid." He glares between the two of you. "And you let her do this?"

"Hey, we both know she was going to try it whether or not I told her no." Threl holds his hands up in defense. "I figured it would be safer with me nearby at least if something went wrong."

"Well, if I'm this mad, I can't even imagine how mad—"

"What's going on over here?" Kino's voice comes from behind you, tense and even. Everyone immediately freezes again.

"Yeah, him," Alis says quietly.

You turn, suddenly nervous, because you hadn't stopped to think about Kino's reaction to all of this. You just wanted to figure it out. To help. And you're realizing how dumb that part, at least, was. His blue eyes are wide with anger and concern, and his jaw clenches as you meet his stare.

"Hey, Kino," you start cautiously. "We, uh, we figured out a flaw in the cells."

"What flaw?" His voice lowers and you know you have to tread carefully or you're fucked. By being not fucked.

"There isn't any tungstoid in the benches," Threl steps forward to explain. "It ends along the floor. As long as no one touches it and keeps to the bench, you can have more than one person in a cell." He shifts nervously. "It was a hunch I had, so we poked around Xaul's cell and—"

"Then I tested it." You interrupt because you know lying to him won't work. And if he finds out anyway, he'll be beyond livid. At this point your only saving grace is honesty.

"You what?" He hisses. "Why?"

"You know why," you say softly. You glance down the hall where Taybus and Vage are watching your confrontation with concern. Kino follows your gaze, takes in the way the two of them are standing with their arms nearly touching, and his lips thin in frustrated understanding. He looks back at you, no less angry. "It isn't fair," you whisper.

"You should have told me first!" He grits through his teeth. "There are better ways of figuring this out without blindly testing a hunch and getting yourself fried!"

"That's what I said." Alis crosses his arms. Kino gives him a sharp glance, but sees the mutual anger on Alis's face. Instead he turns back to you and gives you a look that says "see?"

"I promise I wouldn't have tried it if I wasn't completely confident it would work. Xaul was kind enough to take the risk with me." You see Xaul shrink back when you bring attention to him, trying to avoid getting dragged into this, and you don't blame him. "And I had Threl right there to pull me off between shocks if it didn't. It would just feel like getting last place." You try to sound as placating and sure of yourself as you can. Because you're being honest.

Even though you had been afraid—who wouldn't be?—you were certain Threl was right. The Empire is notoriously frugal and more focused on mass production. Strength through overwhelming force. Panels along every inch of every cell is an unnecessary expense when they can just rely on fear. Because they're just as focused on fear as a tool and people are plenty afraid of the floors. If that wasn't the case, you would have done more investigating first.

You give Kino a pleading look.

"Fine," he sighs in resignation. "This is another one of those things I should be actively discouraging. But," he looks around to the group still watching—possibly waiting for you to get screamed at—and raises his voice, "I won't. I know what this means, and I won't take it away." Everyone exchanges glances of surprise, but they all keep quiet so they don't anger him into changing his mind somehow.

When Kino speaks again, it's in his stern shift manager voice. "As long as no one abuses it. Because this changes nothing! The same rules still apply. You will all continue to be respectful of other people's spaces. You DO NOT enter a cell without permission. You leave when asked. You keep the volume down and…be courteous of the people around you." He turns a little red when he says that last part and you think everyone catches his meaning. "Anyone that breaks this rule will answer to me," he growls. "Am I understood?"

There's a round of "Yes, Kino" as even more people gather and word spreads through the block. The voices around you start to buzz loudly as the excitement and realization grows.

"Do NOT make me regret this! And keep it down!" He shouts. Then he turns to look directly at you. "Cell. Now." He points. "We're not done with this conversation."

You nod, accepting that you fucked up and, even though it had been worth it, you have consequences to deal with.

"Tell them, Threl," you quietly urge as you begin to move down the hall.

"I will." He gives you an apologetic look as he watches you go.

Next to him Alis sighs and shakes his head, but his frustration has faded enough that he gives you a half-hearted thumbs up of encouragement before you turn away.

You keep your pace calm, your shoulders back, and your face neutral. You're determined to accept this with a quiet dignity for as long as you can. Kino walks at your elbow, just at the edge of your periphery. Far back enough that you can't see his face or judge how mad he is. It's okay, you tell yourself. You earned this one and you don't regret it. Yet, anyway.

As you move through the crowded hallway, you're surprised when people silently part for you, letting you pass unhindered. You think it's because they're trying to avoid Kino at first, but some of them give you a nod as they move. And you realize Taybus isn't the only person that this helps. It hadn't been your intention, but a lot of them are grateful as well. You're suddenly glad you gave your shift one small opportunity for comfort and rebellion because fuck this place.

With each step, your conviction that this place is rotting from the outside grows. Because the only good thing about it are the people trapped within. You just have to wait until it breaks around you. Since, surely, in all of the levels, in all of the rooms, in all of the shifts, and at all of the tables, there are others out there doing the same thing. Testing this place for its weaknesses and pushing on the cracks.

A/N: I decided to work all of my overthinking about the logistics of the prison floor into the story. Also how about that Xaul cameo? I was waiting to fit in a character from Table 5.

Chapter 22 should be out this weekend! 🤞

NEXT CHAPTER->

[floralflorence]

POV: Reg gives Leo a lapdance to this tune ^^^

Leo settled himself on the sofa despite being anything but 'settled' - his leg was jumping, his fingers drumming along the back of it where he'd slung his arms in a desperate attempt to look more composed than he felt. Reg was hovering by the massive sound system they had by the TV in the corner of the room. His back was towards him as he scrolled through his phone and connected it to the speakers. All Leo could really see was the stark white number '1' on the back of the black jersey he was wearing, the print of his own name on his boyfriend bold and clear. He wasn't sure whether it was that or the sheer black stockings that trailed up his legs and stretched across his thighs that drove him more insane.

Even without seeing himself, he knew he was flushed: sweaty, near panting with excitement as his blood seemingly began to detour south all at once.

"Baby?" Reg was now facing him which arguably was worse as he stared at him with big, grey eyes, trying desperately not to laugh at his predicament. "You okay?"

"Y-" Leo cleared his throat as an attempt to distract from the helium-high pitch his voice came out as. "Yeah, darlin', 'm fine, great, even."

At that, Reg couldn't hold in a light laugh that made Leo smile despite himself. "I thought I was supposed to be the nervous wreck here."

"'M not nervous, I'm just- honestly you're just really hot." Leo cringed slightly at his blunt wording, laughing softly at himself as Reg basked in the praise for a moment with a bright smile. He flicked his finger across a button on the main speaker before heading over to where Leo was sat in beat with the opening of the song. He maintained direct eye contact with him the entire time until he reached him. When he did, Reg placed his hands on Leo's thighs, bending at the hips so their faces were level while he placed soft, teasing kisses to his lips, swaying his ass behind him as he got into the rhythm of it. He laughed into his mouth when Leo made a small noise: he'd tried to push forward to get closer but Reg moved away as soon as he did.

Turning so his back was facing Leo, Reg trailed his fingers teasingly up his own thighs as he swayed his hips, allowing them to catch the edge of the jersey, riding it up slightly so the swell of his ass showed for a split second before he let the fabric fall back into place. He moved so he was practically sat in Leo's lap, his back to his chest but he balanced the majority of his weight on the balls of his feet. That way, he could grind his hips over Leo's crotch, just about creating the smallest amount of friction but not enough to be anything close to giving him pleasure. Reg, however, was enjoying himself immensely; Leo was outwardly panting now, sighing quick breaths over the back of his neck, his thighs under Reg's skin were trembling, the muscles jumping if even the barest breeze of Reg's body passed over them.

Relenting slightly when the chorus came on, Reg leaned more of his weight back against Leo's chest and, consequently, against his cock, throbbing harshly behind the thin fabric of his sweats. He ground his hips properly down against him, getting lost in the music and raising his arms above his head. His skin was alive, every sensation sending his heart racing - he'd never felt so sexy in all his life; he adored how desperate Leo was for him; loved how he could make him like that with a few soft, teasing touches. Teasingly running his fingertips over his own arms, Reg stretched them higher above his head. He moved them so they danced like willow branches, fluid and hypnotising as he synced the movements with the grinding of his hips.

Leo's hands flew up from where they'd been clenched into fists on the sofa cushion when Reg rose, completely separating his body from Leo's. He stopped himself and brought them back to rest next to his thighs, remembering Reg's condition: no touching unless told you can.

Turning to face him now, Reg's eyes scanned over Leo's body. First, his flushed face, the redness spreading across his ears, down his neck and detailing the top of his chest. Then to his lips, a deep, cherry red from how much he'd chewed on them, parted and shining slightly with spit. Reg's resolve shook dangerously when their eyes met - sultry, deep grey meeting wide, pleading blue. After composing himself, Reg didn't miss a beat when sliding into Leo's lap, straddling his waist but still pushing up on his knees so only his inner thighs skimmed his hips. Because he wasn't totally sank into his lap, Reg's torso was directly in Leo's line of sight. He stared unblinkingly as inch upon inch of pale, unblemished skin was revealed to him; Reg never stopping the side-to-side sway of his entire body while he slowly tugged the jersey up by the hem, arms criss-crossed across his body.

He threw it gently onto the sofa cushion next to Leo when it was completely pulled over his head before he changed his motion. Instead, he rolled his body forwards and backwards, Leo's eyes intently tracing the shift and stretch of Reg's muscles as he did. Skimming his fingers across the bare expanse of Leo's shoulders, he relished in the visible shudder that ran through him, his eyes fluttering as his head dropped back to lean against the back of the sofa.

"You can touch me, baby." Leo's head shot up, glancing at him to confirm he hadn't imagined it.

Softly wrapping his hands around Leo's wrists, he lifted them from resting on the sofa and brought them to his thighs. The moment his fingers touched the meshy material of the stockings, Leo snapped back to himself and indulged. He rubbed the pads of his fingers across it before wrapping his hands around his thigh as much as he could, squeezing the muscle there with a groan. He moved his hands slowly up to Reg's hips, following their constant motion with his hands, watching it as if in a trance. His touch was so gentle it was as though he was afraid he may break, like accidentally shattering porcelain by breathing on it too harshly.

As the song gradually came to a close, Reg lowered himself so he was fully sat in Leo's lap, the entirety of their hips and torsos pressed tightly together. Leo leaned in to brush his lips along the line of his collarbone, tracing it before trailing a path up the front of his neck to his lips. With a hand in Leo's hair, Reg pulled him into a deep, toe-curling kiss. Even as the music flicked to the next song, Reg continued to kiss him, now rocking his hips to give both their aching cocks friction instead of rolling to a beat.

[sinditia]

I posted 758 times in 2022

189 posts created (25%)

569 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lizzicleromance

@khalixascorner

@the-mad-starker

@snowstark

@muse-of-gods

I tagged 691 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#starker - 81 posts

#nff - 69 posts

#replies - 38 posts

#starker moodboard - 37 posts

#lol - 34 posts

#tom holland - 33 posts

#house of the dragon - 32 posts

#starker drabble - 29 posts

#starker ficlet - 27 posts

#tony stark - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#i don't think one should require a fuckin programming degree to filter sequences by country of isolation but here we fuckin are

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

thinking about some rough starker throat-fucking. tony's got both hands on peter's skull, so big that it engulfs practically his entire head. tony's fingers are tangled in peter's soft curls. peter can't move, can only take it as tony pumps his hips against his face. every thrust pushing a wet, choked up, gurgling sound from the back of peter's throat.

tony pulls back just for a moment, just to hear peter panting, gasping for air, eyes watery as they blink up at him, gorgeous and wide. and tony can't help himself. he shoves his cock back in roughly, making the boy whimper, hands scrabbling at tony's thighs. but oh he takes it so good. just lets tony use his mouth like a warm wet hole.

229 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

#4

That's Just What Good Dick Does - A Starker Ficlet

A little 1.3k one-shot inspired by this ask sent to @starker-secrets . I hope you don't mind that I took this prompt and ran with it, anon.

--

The girl – woman, really – moans like she’s being fucking paid for it. Loud, high-pitched, and unrelenting.

“Ohh… ohhh… oh, fuck yeah, right there… oh fuck, that’s so good… give it to me… ahh!”

It’s the kind of noisy shit that most guys would jerk their dicks furiously over on some grainy, shaky footage of your run-of-the-mill amateur pornstar being railed, posted on whatever free streaming website these guys would frequent because they’re too cheap to shill out on the good stuff.

“oh god… ohh… oh, yeah… nnngh, fuck!”

She’s moaning and gasping and panting and practically screaming. Her head is lolled to the side, mouth slack, almost drooling on what look like very expensive sheets. It looks totally fake, except Peter – and the whole world, really – knows that it isn’t. The face on screen that’s contorted in pleasure is one that’s very familiar, often gracing entertainment gossip channels and fashion magazines. Usually the socialite’s face is painted immaculately with make-up, posed in carefully sultry and demure expressions, overlaid with flattering filters and perfect lighting. But here in this leaked video, she’s stripped of all control, her face is warped in the kind of wild, naked bliss that could be nothing but genuine. She’s probably super humiliated by all this.

Peter imagines a lot of men would get off on that. But not him. To Peter, all that noise, all that face and all that body, huge bouncing tits and all, they’re just distracting him from what he really wants to watch from this video.

“Oh god, your cock… it’s so big… ohhh… ohh fuck Tony, it’s so deep in me… oh yeah… right there… right there, ahh!”

Peter huffs frustratedly, one hand still palming absently at his barely hard self. He wants to see that supposed “big cock”. He wants to see how fucking massive and beautiful and amazing that cock must be to make her look like that, sound like that. Peter knows that cock must be glorious, but he wants so desperately to see it.

A quick scan of the video tells Peter that he’ll never get to see a glimpse of that cock he so yearns for, even when it ends with the woman’s belly getting splattered with what looks like a generous amount of cum. Peter would have exited the video and opt for jerking off to his usual material – that particular magazine spread featuring the CEO and owner of Stark Industries all greasy and sweaty in a tank-top, biceps straining as he lifts something in his workshop. But under all the grating noises the woman is blaring in his earphones, Peter can pick up another voice in the background, deeper, masculine, rough with arousal and exertion.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you… squeeze around me, baby… yeah, just like that…”

Tony Stark, the object of Peter’s teenage affections and lust, doesn’t make much noise in these leaked videos. But it’s enough to send the blood rushing to Peter’s dick so fast that he gets a little dizzy.

Peter takes his hand out of his sleep pants and wipes it distractedly on his bedcovers. He needs two hands to quickly open another application on his laptop and isolate that particular audio. He abandons the original video and turns up the volume on Tony Stark’s low, rumbly dirty talk.

Peter closes his eyes and takes in the only sounds from that leaked sex tape that he’s interested. He’s heard Tony Stark speak in all sorts of public events on TV. He knows exactly what the man sounds like, the confidence and charm in his voice a perfect match to his handsome face and muscular body. Now Peter knows what Tony Stark sounds like in lust. The man’s groans and low, heavy breathing are just as sexy as the rest of him.

Peter bites his lip, stifling a moan as he pumps his dick faster. His aunt is sleeping just down the hall and he can’t be as loud as the woman Tony Stark is fucking in the video. He’s only got the man’s voice filling him up and he already wants to scream out in pleasure. He can’t imagine what it must be like to have Tony Stark’s actual cock inside him. Oh god, that cock. He hasn’t even seen it but he knows it’s big. He knows it. He wants it so bad.

Tony Stark is grunting in his ear, whispering dirty, filthy things to him. Peter’s earphones make it sound like the man is right here in this dark bedroom with him. He can almost feel a phantom breath on his neck, praising him, crooning about how hot and wet and tight he is.

And then Peter learns what Tony Stark sounds like when he orgasms. A low, gorgeous sound, a heaving groan that’s so clear, so close to Peter’s ear that the boy can’t control his gasp as he cums, back arching in a taut line, toes curling as he jerks and spills all over his fist.

--

Several years later

“Slow down, sweetheart. I wanna take my time with you.”

Peter shivers. He’s masturbated countless times to the sound of that voice through his earphones but it’s got nothing on the real thing. Not when he’s also got actual lips nipping at his neck, that rasp of stubble on his skin telling him that this is actually happening to him. Peter is the one spread out on Tony Stark’s expensive sheets now, pinned to the mattress by the man’s broad weight, feeling that unmistakeable bulge between his legs.

“Fuck me, Daddy” Peter begs, breathless already. “Please. You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Tony chuckles. He sucks biting kisses on Peter’s neck, hands slipped under the younger man’s shirt, tweaking his nipples, making him cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah?” Tony trails his lips up Peter’s jaw until they’re kissing, open-mouthed and filthy. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you what you want.”

Peter moans at the taste of Tony’s tongue. The man’s kisses are confident and dominating and Peter is helpless to it, swept up in the overwhelming sensations.

“This pretty mouth is so sweet,” Tony murmurs between kisses. “Wanna feel it on my cock. You wanna suck me off, baby boy?”

Peter is still dazed when Tony sits back on his knees. Through the haze of lust he registers the older man unzipping his pants to take out his cock.

“Oh my god,” Peter gasps, eyes fixed on Tony’s hard-on. “Oh my god, it’s even bigger than I imagined.”

See the full post

242 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#3

It's a widely known and often memed statistic that Tony Stark has never dated anyone older than twenty-five-years old. The reliability with which all his relationships degrade within weeks of his partners' 25th birthday is truly comical to the entire internet-using world, except to two people: Tony Stark himself, and his current boyfriend, Peter Parker.

Peter knew of Tony's history upon entering a relationship with the older man, of course. He's Gen Z, born with the power of the internet in the palm of his hand. He was 21 when he first met 46-year-old Tony Stark. He knew he had an expiry date. But he was young and Tony was funny and smart and nice and so unbelievably hot. Peter could have a good time with him for however brief it may be.

Tony, on the other hand, was prepared to quit dating entirely when he was dumped yet again shortly after spending a small fortune on a diamond necklace for his ex's birthday. She was nice enough to try to give it back the night she left him, but he refused. Maybe she can sell it and use it towards the down payment for a house or whatever it is that "serious adults" do.

Because that's the thing the internet doesn't talk about, how people date Tony Stark for a good time and not for a long time. Oh it's fun to get invited to high society galas and travel to beautiful places around the world and be showered with lavish, expensive gifts. But when people decide it's time to settle down, make commitments, have a family, they don't want to do it with a man like Tony Stark.

Peter is too beautiful for Tony to resist, though. And as Tony got to know him - just how sweet, kind-hearted, and absolutely prodigy-level genius the young man is - Tony knows Peter is entirely too good for him to keep. Tony knows his heart will inevitably be broken again down the line, but hey, it's better to have loved and lost and all that.

Right?

It's a wonderful few years. Perfect, even.

Peter never imagined he would find the love of his life in his early twenties but here he is. Tony Stark's incredible body and insane stamina and big, fat bank account are great perks for sure. But it's his quirks, his passion, his work ethic, even his flaws that make Peter fall even deeper in love. It seems like the only flaw of Tony's that Peter can't get over is the fact that the man obviously prefers them young. And it's not something Peter can ever accept or change about himself. The thing about puppies is that they always grow into dogs.

Tony throws Peter the biggest 25th birthday party the city has ever seen. No expense was spared. Everyone was out to celebrate, family and friends inside the venue, even the vultures outside waiting for their breakup, jokes at the ready.

There's just one couple whose happiness was subdued. It's a melancholy that hovers over them like a stormcloud. Each bout of lovemaking feels like the last.

With every kiss Peter is saying, please let me stay.

With every touch Tony is saying, please don't go.

Tony is the one who caves. This has gone enough for too long. Either way, Peter will be the last person he'll ever be with, the last person he'll ever love.

The engagement ring is a vintage piece of gold that once adorned Tony's own late mother. Tony hopes against hope that it doesn't become yet another piece of jewelry to bookmark another heartbreak.

But Peter says yes. Of course, he says yes. Few people are lucky enough to find a love like he had. Even fewer had found it so quickly.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting for so long," Peter says.

"It's worth it to finally find you," Tony says.

In the end, everyone is still right. Tony Stark has never dated anyone older than twenty-five-years old. But he will be married to one.

419 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

#2

post-nwh peter parker buying a sad little cupcake from a bakery 10 mins before closing so it's discounted, bringing it back to his apartment, lighting up a single candle on it, quietly singing "happy birthday" to himself, imagining that aunt may and mr. stark are smiling down at him from heaven, making a birthday wish that ned and mj are having a wonderful time at MIT, before blowing the candle out

552 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

peter walks into the living room, wearing an oversize sweater with sleeves that fall past his wrists, tiny lil shorts and white socks, looking like the most adorable angel baby the world has ever seen.

"whatcha lookin' for, daddy?" he asks tony.

"my pen rolled under the couch," tony grumbles. "i can't reach it." his hand doesn't fit in the crevice between the couch and floor.

"here, let me," peter says.

and tony thinks peter is gonna reach under there with his much more slender arms.

but instead peter, adorable sweater paws and all, just deadass lifts the whole couch and unearths tony's errant pen from under there.

"there you go," peter hands it over cheerfully to a fully gaping tony.

with how smol and cute peter is, sometimes tony forgets he has super strength.

624 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sonorous-strings]

"...so then I tell the guy, 'Look, I don't care if it means you've played every single GameStation title. A grown man playing Love those Lurps, any of them, is just sad.' I mean, really, Love those Lurps? What kinda battle does he think he's winnin', here?"

"Coop, man, I don't get it. You could, like, pretend he just doesn't exist. I know the rest of us don't. At least Kiva caught on quick." Jamie, lanky slacker extraordinaire, lounged in the passenger seat with his chin head on his fist as he gazed out the window. "'Course, I just make fun of 'im."

Kiva, the fiery redhead from the future and previous master of MEGAS, sitting in the back seat of Coop's car, blew a lock of red hair out of her face. "While I'm sure this... argument is very stimulating, I don't suppose either of you would care to explain just where we are?"

"Oh, yeah." Coop's response wasn't so much abashed as it was an "Oh yeah, I forgot about that", as if his taking MEGAS to other planets or dimensions was basically Tuesday all over again. Which... was exactly what happened.

"Dude, this place looks flippin' weird," Jamie quipped, cocking a finger towards the giant glowing golden sphere in the distance. "What do you think that is?"

A holo-screen materialized in front of Kiva and her fingers flew across the keys. "I don't know, but the energy readings here are massive. It looks like there's a lot of... robots, among other life-readings." The screen closed down. "I think it's an... arena of some sort."

Coop's face lit up. "Oooh! You mean I can fight other people here?" The big man grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, a devious smile on his face. "Maybe then I can test a few modifications."

"Why is it whenever we find ourselves in yet another dimension the first thing Coop wants to do is go smash something?" Jamie sighed. "We could be back home and I could be trying to pick up chicks instead of finding new ways to potentially get my face smashed in." Then a nearby billboard flashed by and he smiled. "At least that purple dragon-looking chick looks pretty cute. You think they have phones here like we do?"

Kiva just sighed in disgust as MEGAS practically galloped towards the Battlesphere off in the distance.

---

(I've technically got two past muses, but the first should, eh, stay buried.)

@atangledfate @wildcatofgreen

[glow-worms-are-believers]

The GIW wasn't supposed to be a threat. They wore white pristine suits in the field and spoke like they were in a bad Men in Black remake. Sam, Tucker and him liked to make jokes about the stupid sunglasses, the code names, the mess they made of everything.

It wasn't so funny now, Danny thought as he pressed against his side which had been shot not a day before. As he turned towards the grimy window of the bus, he let his forehead lean against the cool glass. There was no use pondering what-ifs Danny told himself as he closed his eyes wearily, the only thing left to do was go forward.

Danny stayed like that for a moment before a rougher patch of the road had him hitting his head against the glass. He hissed in pain and brought a hand to his forehead, massaging it gently. He sighed before sitting back up, which had him catching sight of the go-bag Jazz had stuffed in his hands before telling him to go.

He unzipped the bag, to reveal a few clothes, and essentials. Rummaging around, he produced a wallet. Opening it he found a large amount in cash and he threw a quick look around to make sure nobody had seen that before he sent a quick thanks to Sam and he put it back in. Next, he took out the ID and smiled as he read the name James Olsen. Sam had probably suggested it, since he'd be more likely to answer to his middle name, but still wouldn't be too obvious.

There was only one with a picture, but it was in black-and-white and intentionally blurry, which he supposed he had Tuck to thank for. Putting the wallet back in the duffel, he came into contact with something soft and squishy. Taking it out, he had to stop himself from tearing up as he came face-to-face with Bearbert. Feeling his eyes start to water despite himself, he buried his face in the stuffed animal that smelled like Jazz and home.

He spent the next hour of the trip like this, curled up around the plushy until he felt the bus come to a stop and Danny had to put it back in the duffel. He walked down the bus steps to find himself in a rest area of a massive train station. From here, Danny knew he could go practically anywhere.

Danny turned resolutely away from the ticket stand and started walking towards the big interior mall. It was still open, despite its few employees looking bleary-eyed and tired, and Danny made a bee-line for the dye section. He took the colour closest to Jazz's hair, then grabbed a hoodie and a cap, before going to the check out and paying cash.

He exited the store and started to search for a one-person bathroom. The only one he could find was the accessibility toilet, and with a wince, he walked in and locked the door behind him.

Two hours later, Jimmy Olsen walked out of the bathroom, leaving behind him a garbage bin full of crushed box-dye, and a vague smell of ammonia and bleach. Walking up to the ticket stand, he booked a one-way ticket for the soonest departure and got himself an overpriced sandwich to munch on.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in a blue upholstered train chair, as the overhead intercom buzzed to life.

Attention passengers, we will be moving shortly. A reminder that this is the night train with last stop for Metropolis Grand Central Station. Please stay clear of closing doors. We wish you a happy commute!

Short DPXDC Prompts #538

Danny hides from the GIW. he goes undercover in Metropolis and takes up the name Jimmy Olsen. Today is his first day working as a photographer/copyboy in the Daily Planet.

[mosspatchwriter]

The Eggler ~ Original

Resmeka always had neat creatures that they were willing to get rid of -and for dirt cheap. A few measly karas and the shipment could keep the boat in the air for a few months. Well, after they were sold, of course.

There was a dealer they liked to sell to a few quadrants over. Between the shipment of Higarish and Maltens from the last pick up in Resmeka and the Klorgans they got from Shlenak, they were certain that they could get nearly a Tardon for it all.

The ship was cleared for airspace after several boring microns of prep. With a look over their shoulder, the being known only as ‘The Eggler’ took off into the inky black of space. The departure wasn’t particularly eventful; Resmeka’s docks tended not to offer pesky turbulence. The course was set towards the Kellin Nebula, specifically the planet Kahsha, where the dealer -Miklea- resided. Once out of the atmosphere, they put the ship on autopilot and moved back towards the cargo bay.

A quick inspection showed everything survived take off. They pulled down the hood that kept their face mostly covered. The mask that came up to the slits that functioned as a nose hid several layers of sharp teeth their kind had. Though, the dark, violet skin and milky eyes marked them for what they were as well. As did the scar from one side of their face to the other, slanted and still an angry red.

An exiled Torg. Their dealing in cargo of ‘children’ was enough to enrage their people. They didn’t hold it against the Torg; they knew it would happen. But the life of their people tended to be boring at best. They didn’t care to have a clutch of their own. And that’s what all good Torgs wanted.

They returned their attention back to the cargo. The clutches were beautiful. The older set of Klorgans had taken on their radiating, golden light. The way the pulsed in time with the creatures’ heartbeats was almost soothing. However, once it hatched, it would be a beast that only experienced exotic breeders would know how to handle. They grew to a monsterous size -nearly 35 hands when fully grown- and would devour anything that they could find, including owners, handlers, and each other.

Beautiful, though. Golden scales with a hint of silver below. They were a sight to behold in the light. They tended to have massive spines from nose to tail. The males had smaller ones that broke off during the fighting over a mate. Each of its six feet had three talons protruding from them.

But, for now, they were kept in an incubator that could withstand that nasty venom.

The next ones were the Maltens. Speckled eggs, orange and brown. A good medium size, something to fetch a better price. Inside a serpent waited. Vicious from the start, they could reach speeds very few could out run. With their red hide, they blended in with the tall trees that were in the wilds of Resmeka. They loved to launch themselves at prey. While they devoured them, they secreted a devastating acid that allowed the body to dissolve so it was easier to digest. There was a moment of thankfulness when all forty eggs were nestled where they were supposed to be.

Last came the ‘Meka Demons’, the Higarish. They tended to be hunted for their beautiful fur. It was as strong as spider silk and weaved into a soft, almost indestructible suit of armor. Four large fangs hung down from the top of its large mouth and enclosed the two that were on its bottom jaw. The most dangerous thing was its uncanny ability to pass through almost any metal, glass, or wooden containment unit. Not to mention the ability to practically disappear. It was a great development to combat hunting. Now, all anyone saw before being disemboweled was an iridescent shimmer then those terrifying teeth. They did, however, tend not to attack unless provoked. But, in honesty, anything could be considered provocation to them.

The Eggler paused, frowned, and then recounted the clutch. Seventy-six. One less than the number written on the nest. The ship wasn’t big, but a baby Higarish could hide for days before looking for substance. Their eggshell that they consumed after birth tended to have enough nutrients to help in the beginning to give them time to hide.

Not a good thing for a three-day trip.

The Eggler hadn’t had it happen often, this containment breach. The occasional Flanriana would get out -winged fire starters that liked chewing on wires. They could contain the nuisances fairly easily. But a disappearing, uncontainable Demon? This was a whole new territory.

They stood deathly still. Eyes scanned what they could until they had to make a very slow three hundred and sixty degree turn. No shimmer. No teeth. No scuttling or clicking of sharp retractable claws. So far, so good.

Quietly, they moved back towards the cockpit. They could barricade themselves inside until the trip was over. Maybe. They weren’t sure how well that would work if the Higarish’s sense of smell was as good as the rumors stated. Along the way, The Eggler picked up a long pipe, something important to a project that needed to be done on the ship.

Oh well. It was expendable.

They tried to keep an eye in all directions as they made an escape. By some miracle, there wasn’t any attack. They breathed a sigh of relief as the bolt on the cockpit door slid into place. Limited entry points were good. The pipe stayed at the ready.

For two days, there was silence. However, at some point during the ‘night’ of the third day, they were awoken by a grinding sound, like teeth running over metal. A noise escaped them before the tentacle could cover their mouth. The sound stopped immediately.

The phasing of the creature was absolutely terrifying. It morphed and slid along in unnatural ways. It wasn’t large -yet- so the proportions were skewed and wrong. The limbs were long and disjointed. The head was stretched much longer than what it should be. It was only a second before it was in the room and returned to its proper form. Blood thirsty gray eyes focused on The Eggler. Their blood ran cold. It was over. There would be nothing but this horrendous beast and a fortune’s worth of illegal eggs containing dangerous exotic creatures aboard. They prayed silently that it would at least be quick.

It clicked its teeth before screeching. Another screech made The Eggler pause. They opened their white eyes again and looked at the Beast. Strange. The Higarish were born with the ability to growl and snarl, but they had never heard of them being able to screech like that.

Its teeth snapped again before it hopped up and down, tail swishing in irritation.

The Eggler moved towards it, causing the creature to step back and bare its deadly teeth. A tentacle came up. A nose hesitantly came to sniff. Then, there was another screech and hop. It spun in place before swishing its tail again.

The Eggler took a closer look, stepping around the creature with curiosity. It stood still for him.

A longer tail, though not by much. A shorter muzzle. And, most curious, slightly rounded fangs rather than the razor sharp ones a Higarish should have.

The Eggler smiled, then laughed, reaching out to pet the Nareth’s head. Rather than the ruthless Higarish, it was a cross-breed creature. They were uncommon, but it happened when someone needed a guard ‘dog’. It was built more like its vicious cousin, while having a temperament more like the other parent -the Mareneth. The Nareth leaned into the attention happily.

No one would take a cross-breed, except as a creature to guard much more docile flocks.

The Eggler watched the creature, seeming to smile under the pets. Space voyages were lonely. They had long wished for someone to share the ship with.

Unlikely enough, a Nareth was the best company they could think of.