#top shelf chapter 15

[beardysuits]

Closer to Dad pt 2

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist. 

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight. 

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height. 

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me. 

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again. 

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today. 

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste. 

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one. 

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in. 

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled. 

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge. 

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard. 

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me. 

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days. 

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different. 

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me. 

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate. 

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can. 

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me. 

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer. 

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it. 

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”. 

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel. 

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible. 

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.” 

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink. 

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered. 

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that. 

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer. 

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee. 

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground. 

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age. 

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase. 

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked. 

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”. 

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk. 

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy! 

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique. 

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me. 

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling. 

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released. 

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists. 

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits. 

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him. 

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily. 

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all. 

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast. 

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth. 

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him. 

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively. 

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white. 

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy. 

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest. 

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself. 

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp. 

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh. 

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva. 

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial. 

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body. 

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity. 

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside. 

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward. 

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath. 

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself. 

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding. 

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body. 

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming. 

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking. 

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs. 

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps. 

--------------------------------

A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

Thank you all!

[strawberrystepmom]

shifting sands and the fingers they fall through | two

cw: discussion of an injury reader has with mentions of blood, pus, and infection. reader is also described as smaller/shorter than law. trafalgar law x fisherman f!reader. | word count: 3.1k, reading time: approx. 15 min.

note: this is a series. each post will contain warnings that pertain to that particular chapter. | part: one, three, four, five, six

A gulls cry has been the constant alarm clock through your adulthood for as long as you can remember. It has also become your background music and dinner bell; the cry that reminds you that you’re alive even on days when you aren’t as pleased to wake up as one perhaps should be. 

Mundanity can have that effect on a person or at least that’s what you’ve read in some of the silly self help novels you’ve been able to procure from the small island library.

You don’t have enough free time to do much but reading is how you prefer to spend those few precious moments. Nobody will admit it on the island, least of all the librarian, but they ask other islands to send new-to-everyone here books solely for you to enjoy. 

The gull woke and led you out to the shore this morning. It was a late night spent spearing flounder and coming up short. You’ve cast your net twice this morning, catching a few unimpressive but big enough to be sold mackerel. 

You’re unlucky today but at least you’re at peace.

A contented sigh escapes while casting your net back into the shallow, turquoise water a third time. Your eyes aren’t looking down at the foamy waves, they’re locked onto the horizon. If the sunrise were less spectacular you’d be upset to be here. Everything feels drenched in a glow that no other time of day can replicate and you get to enjoy it all by yourself, uninterrupted.

This is the type of loneliness you wish you felt perpetually. Happy to be alone, embracing the world around you with no expectations upon you. Instead that pang comes in the middle of a long night or when you can’t reach something on the top shelf at home or when you see one of the few other young women on the island hand in hand with the one they’ve chosen to fill their time with.

You learned to more or less accept loneliness as a consequence of freedom years ago, not long after you finally felt accepted by your fellow fisherman on this little gem settled amongst the waves. Arriving here as a stranger and a young one at that raised everyone’s hackles but you proved yourself trustworthy and hardworking, simply pleased to be away from the shackles your life would’ve become if you’d stayed where you came from.

Drawing your net back up to shore, you sigh when it comes up empty yet again. Footsteps pad through the sand and their cadence sounds familiar to you, similar to the ones heralding the man you assured you’d tend to your wound three days ago.

As assumed, you did not tend to it at all. You’ve been too busy to focus on how it throbs, the current fishing season passing quickly and your stall as busy as it always is. 

A chuckle rings from behind you. It’s quiet enough you’d miss it if others were around. It mingles with the waves lapping at your feet, encouraging you to look over your shoulder even though you refuse out of spite at this point. 

You know it has to be this enigmatic man, Law, based off of the way your skin prickles with awareness of his stare just as it did a few days prior. Something about him makes your body react. It could just be an overreaction to someone new. Your best guess is that you are anticipating his imminent lecture and that’s why everything about you feels off right now, your usual go with the flow approach failing.

“How’d redoing those stitches go?”

Now you turn around, dropping your net at your feet and pursing your lips. He looks charmingly mussed up, wearing a tan button down shirt with too few buttons fastened instead of the blue t-shirt you saw him in prior. The unenthused look on your face remains although your traitorous eyes take a peek at the tanned, tattooed skin he’s showing off.

You’re caught in the act, of course. He rolls his shoulders when he catches your roving glance and you almost believe you see the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, those hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants that are as unique as the rest of him. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to a smile or really anything that isn’t, in your opinion, overt disinterest from the man. It brings back that same feeling you had during your first meeting, stomach turning and feet itching to get away.

You promptly look away while pretending to busy yourself with your net, cheeks warm. It makes you wonder why he approached at all if only to give you a hard time which only makes your face heat further.

“Didn’t have the time. I’m a busy girl, you know.”

Grunting his initial response, he takes a few steps to close the distance between you two. You jump back a few steps, pretending that they were necessary to untangle your net. Law pauses, eyebrow raised.

“Does your health mean nothing to you?”

Sighing, you drop the net at your feet and fold your arms over your chest in an ill guided attempt to puff yourself up. He’s intimidating, not just in expression and brusque conversation, but in stature too - broad and twice your size. You’re no stranger to dealing with men who talk a big game but an eerie feeling in your gut makes you believe that this man could back it up. 

This stranger who insists on disrupting your day, your silent, peaceful beach time with you and the foam and the fish. Agitation gnaws and you tilt your head to the side curiously, brows raised.

“Why do you care what a woman you don’t know does with her body?”

It appears you have finally taken control of the situation judging by the way he slowly blinks like he’s processing what you said. Then he shakes his head, rolling his eyes enough that it’s your turn to catch it and scoff.

“I’m a doctor. It’s my responsibility to care.”

Although that isn’t enough to explain to him why he cares. As a principle, he believes men like him should not take a vested interest in the wellbeing of civilians. Pirates live a life that few can understand and certainly not simple fisherman on an island that he and his crew are currently taking a brief respite on.

“Then care about someone else,” you shoot back with a smile, finally bending to reach for your net and walking a few steps closer to shore, back toward your unexpected guest. The gentle morning waves wash over your boots. He watches as you toss, seabreeze ruffling the end of your shorts.

Unburying one hand from his pocket, he scrubs it over his face defeatedly. You’re just an honest person trying to make a living as difficult as you are. That’s why he cares. Not this strange draw he feels, a little poke between his ribs every time he thinks about the unique woman from the fish stall.

“My ship has an infirmary. I can take care of it since you apparently refuse to.”

You glance over your shoulder, a single brow raised.

“I try to avoid following strange men anywhere.”

Law sighs, exasperated. 

“We aren’t strangers, we’ve met before. You even know my name.”

You shake your head, heaving your net back toward shore. “And that suddenly makes you perfectly upstanding and trustworthy?”

He doesn’t miss the wince that flashes across your face when the knotted fibers drag across your arm and subsequently the wound. Looking into the weave, you frown when no fish are flopping around and prepare your arm to cast again but stop when your arm twinges. 

The doctor shakes his head, pulling his other hand from out of his pocket and folding his arms over his chest. If he can’t reason with you, he believes he may know another way to convince you yet.

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. Let it fall off for all I care.”

Worked like a charm. That caught your attention, the ever astute man notices. The defiant smirk on your face falls, eyes widening in horror instead. 

“Can that really happen?”

Internally he’s nearly aghast at your naivety but he nods once, face unchanging. He could sever it himself if he were to use his abilities, it would probably be less trouble than getting you to take him seriously would be but something tells him to be patient. You are a little prickly, perhaps distrustful, but you don’t seem to lack sense enough to dismiss his help a second time. 

“Fine. But promise you aren’t going to steal my organs or hurt me in any way first.”

He snorts, shaking his head.

“I’m not promising anything. You can let me look at it or you can suffer, those are your options.”

You contemplate the suffering option for a second until your arm aches again. This draws a dramatic groan from you, your empty net tossed over your shoulder. It’s so rare that you need help from anyone for any reason but this is out of your wheelhouse. It’s time to take what’s being offered to you, albeit reluctant.

“Lead the way then, doctor.”

Thankfully Polar Tang isn’t submerged and waiting terribly far from where you stand right now. It’s how he stumbled upon you anyway, walking the shore before the rest of the crew decided to greet the day. 

Things are already off to a strange start but once he gets this done, he can stop worrying about you completely and move on with his life.

—----------

You’ve never been aboard a submarine before and admittedly, you kind of would be alright not doing it again. Or maybe just not this one, its grumpy captain leading you inside and instructing you to remain quiet and walk straight in the direction he’s pointing which must be toward that infirmary he talked about. 

When the two of you finally arrive, he shuts the door tightly behind you and instructs you to sit down near a stainless steel bench attached to the wall. While you do so he grabs his glasses off of the bench and a pair of gloves and snaps them on, leaning over you and grabbing your arm to stretch it across the table.

“This won’t take too long.”

You nod once, sitting in the stool and looking around at the incredibly clean environment he calls his own. It’s strange and you never would have considered looking at him that this is how he maintains his space. It seems like a direct contrast to the man in front of you who seems at least a little bit rough around the edges.

You suppose the same could be said about you though, precise in your work despite everything else about you being flighty at best, so you keep your opinion to yourself. It’s kind enough of him to see you in the first place that you don’t want to make him mad and potentially end up without an arm if his claims were to come true.

Noises on the other side of the steel walls capture your attention and Law groans, looking up from his work for the briefest moment.

“Go away. I won’t tell you again.”

He doesn’t raise his voice because he doesn’t have to, the low growl clearly enough to send the several pairs of feet eavesdropping outside of the medical bay door scurrying. You giggle, shaking your head.

“Friends of yours?” 

Law’s face is unchanging, glasses perched on his nose while he leans back in.

“My crew. I assumed they’d still be sleeping but apparently I was wrong.”

“Oh, a crew!” You exclaim and he shoots you a warning glance encouraging you to be quiet lest they catch wind of the fact not only a stranger but a female one is onboard. “Sorry, I was kind of excited to hear you aren’t traveling all alone. You seem like the type that does.”

A strange thing to say but he chuckles so quietly you believe you imagined it, that same thumb from three days ago holding your arm as though it’s made of glass. That feeling of being seen and not simply viewed returns, settling strangely while you kick your feet back and forth where they dangle. 

“Do you guys go around the world and help people like this all the time?”

Reaching for his scissors that are in a cup on the table behind you, he shakes his head once but his eyes never move from your wound. He cuts through one of your poor stitches and then another, the tension keeping the cut closed finally releasing and showing you just how much pain you’re about to be in. You play it cool, kicking your feet a little harder to focus on something besides how bad it hurts and finally, he speaks.

“No. We’re pirates.”

Staring wide eyed at the man, you try to will your face to change before he can look up and catch the expression. Unfortunately, you failed and he looks over the top of his glasses, mouth set in a flat line.

 “What? Are you scared?”

“No no no, just surprised is all,” you chirp, playing off your anxiety. “You’re helping me so I have no judgment either way. Besides, I don’t have much a pirate would be interested in anyway.”

Trafalgar could name a few things about you the pirates he knows would be very interested in but he keeps them to himself, squeezing the edges of your wound together to release any lingering pus. You wince but swallow it down, tough girl that you are, gnawing your lower lip and flaring your nostrils as you breathe through the sting.

“How did this,” he nods and you know what he’s nodding toward. ”happen?” 

You swallow thickly, blinking fast to keep from crying.

“Uh, it was nighttime. I was by myself and something was caught in my nets that wouldn’t come out. I tried to cut it out and ended up cutting myself instead.” Sniffling, you wrinkle your nose to keep any further show of pain or emotion from arising. “Cut the net too which really sucks.”

The pain is immense but manageable while he cuts through a few more of the stitches, gently squeezing as he goes. It’s bad but it isn’t as infected as he thought, fighting off annoyance at your utter recklessness like he should care or something. 

“I hate to break it to you but maybe you shouldn’t be doing things on your own if this is the outcome.”

Contrary to the immediate offended glare you cast toward him, you have to admit to yourself that he may be correct. This time wasn’t the first you’ve ever injured yourself alone and as long as it isn’t the last, you have always sort of just considered things even but this is bad. It aches. Every stitch he pops releases the tension of the thread and you hiss through your teeth. 

“You’re probably right,” you admit aloud, feet no longer kicking out and instead planted firmly against the legs of the chair to brace yourself for the worst of the pain to come. “But all I have is me so I do what I have to.”

The remark about his crew suddenly makes more sense. He hums, reaching for cotton and disinfectant solution to clean now that it’s squeezed out and the stitches are gone. 

“Then you need to be more careful,” he warns, that cursed thumb finally letting go of you so he can use both hands to soak the cotton with the solution. He gently swipes it across the surface and he feels the tension in your body return.

“This is what happens when you get hurt and ignore it. It’s a pain in the ass and it hurts when it comes time to fix it.”

Frowning, you can hardly hide your displeasure over his poor bedside manner. Not that you’ve been to many doctors in your adulthood outside of the one who occasionally comes to do semi annual checkups for everyone who lives here but you assumed being a doctor meant you kind of had to be nice. 

“I’ve learned my lesson.”

Your words are dripping with sarcasm but he ignores them, stepping on the trash can pedal beneath the bench and tossing the cotton in there. He moves as swiftly as you’ve ever seen anyone work and procures a needle and thread also from the bench behind you. That thumb touches the outside of your arm, again, and he pauses a moment to look up at you.

It’s obvious that you’re in pain and pretending like everything is fine. He gets the sense you do that a lot. Not that it’s his problem but he feels obligated to take the best care of you that he can while this situation is happening so he speaks slowly.

“This is going to be the worst part.”

You nod.

“It was when I did it too.”

At least you can laugh about it. 

Gently poking through one side of the wound with the needle, he pulls it through and you see a tidy line of thread left behind. Far better than the messy, knotted, too big stitches you had before. He continues his pattern - poke, pull, weave - and you marvel at the quality of his work. It’s clear he takes his duties as a doctor seriously and a wave of gratefulness washes over you. Sure he hasn’t been the nicest man alive but the fact he’s done this at all tells you that he isn’t all that bad no matter how he acts.

“Thank you.” You want to leave it there, mouth opening and then closing again, but you don’t feel right saying that and nothing else. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this but I’m not good at asking for help or accepting it either. Most people give up after I shoo them off the first time so I guess thanks for not taking me seriously.”

Finishing the final stitch, he cuts off the thread and looks directly up at you. 

“Yeah, well it’s not like it was hard or took a lot of time.” 

Averting his gaze back down to his work to give it a final inspection, he considers telling you he’ll check in again to make sure it’s healing right. It isn’t his responsibility now that the work is done but your honesty has convinced him you aren’t very good at looking out for yourself.

“Alright, I’ll walk you back up to shore.”

You’ll have to figure out how to do it without him because once you leave this ship, he won’t bother trying to see you again.

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 29)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: wedding night... activities

warnings: PURE SMUT!!! literally filth, i have no excuse. threesome, oral sex (F receiving), spanking, dom!Nesta, orgasm denial, face sitting, everything basically. slight talk of past trauma but that's it (seriously when y'all write threesomes why do your characters never discuss limits beforehand smh)

word count: 8.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry i fell off the face of the earth... again..... i got super depressed and forgot how to write but i'm back now! rip to the person who requested neris x reader smut and had to wait 28 chapters for it lol

DISCLAIMER: none of this is proofread and i WAS drunk when i wrote it so it's a disaster but it's smutty so feast away

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Your jaw hit the floor as you entered the unfamiliar room. Against the wall to your left was the biggest four poster bed you had ever seen, enough to fit at least 4 people with room for limbs to be spread but not touching. It was covered in a thick green blanket, with cream pillows and a knitted throw at the base. Almost-sheer gold curtains were wrapped from the top frame of the bed posters, held back by brass loops. There was a large, arching wall of flowers and branches surrounding a shelf behind the bed’s headboard. A few trinkets had already been strewn across the shelves – books, jewellery, a knife, all objects you had seen Eris possess. The floor was dark wood and elegant, with a large, red rug in front of the bed, offset by the most comfortable-looking, plushy chairs and couch you had ever seen. 

But what caught your eye the most was the expertly carved cinquefoil arches and pillars on the other side of the room that lead to a balcony. There were no windows between the pillars, but the room remained devoid of the chill of the night air. It was spelled, judging by the thin sheen of magic between the spaces. You couldn’t see the view at this hour, but you knew it would take your breath away.

Angling your head in amazement, you noticed two open doors on the right side. One led to what looked like a massive walk-in closet, while the other led to the bathroom. You followed the second door, peering in to see the largest bathing room you had ever seen. An enormous tub was carved into the floor at one end, a small fountain spurting from one end with dragon’s heads carved into it. Across from the tub was a spacious shower, with various faucets and shower heads at all angles and three shelves with different soaps and oils on them. Amazed, you stepped back into the main bedroom, too stunned to speak.

“So,” Eris smirked, sauntering up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, my love?”

Slack-jawed, you couldn’t find the words for a moment. You glanced at Nesta, who had come up beside you. Her eyes were wide, her soft lips parted ever so slightly in wonder. Everything in this room was perfect, down to the last detail. “Is this…” You tried to speak but your voice trailed off.

“Our room.” Nesta finished your sentence for you, her voice filled with awe.

You asked, “wait, did you know?”

Eris squeezed your sides gently. “She knew this was going to be my gift to you both. Unfortunately I had to tell her, as I needed her input in the construction of the shower. But this is the first time you have both seen it. It was originally a storage room, but I had it redone and it has been worked on for the past two months.”

You baulked. “Eris, I…” Once again, your voice trailed off. The scale of the room, the attention to detail, everything was specifically designed for you, Eris, and Nesta to live together without feeling cramped. Eris had done all of this for you, for Nesta. Even during those dark days where it seemed everything had gone awry, he had kept hope aflame with the building of this room. “I don’t even know what to say, this is incredible.”

Eris chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his lips graze your ear as he murmured, “You don’t have to say anything. You both deserve it, and I am beyond thrilled that I have the honour of spoiling you like this. It is the least I can do, and it is just one of many endless ways I intend on proving my devotion.”

Instantly, your blood heated at the sensation and you let out a breath. You shivered slightly, face flushing at having your mate’s lips so close to your neck. The action did not go unnoticed. Nesta turned her head towards you, pupils widening with lust at the breath that escaped your lips. Eris simply moved even closer, his fingers stretching up your ribs ever so slightly. Even through the thick fabric of your wedding dress, your skin tingled where his fingers brushed and you sucked in a breath.

“My, my,” Nesta cooed, cocking her head and surveying you up and down like a dragon staring at her prey. The way her head tilted slowly, eyes aflame and each movement possessing a serpent-like quality reminded you of Athariel’s mannerisms – rider and beast, slowly morphing into a unified being. “Somebody is flustered easily.”

“That’s good,” Eris said smoothly, his voice like silk. “It means she listened when I told her she had to wait until the night of the wedding for her desires to be satisfied.”

“You really think I had time for any of that amidst the wedding chaos?” You tried to snap back, but your voice was breathy and weak. All you could think about was Eris’s hands on your sides and Nesta’s blue-grey eyes sizing you up. Your heart thumped louder in your chest as you realised your fantasies were going to be brought to fruition. All those weeks of having to suppress your urges were finally at an end. The sensation of your mates’ desire through the mating bond was almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in your body.

Eris dragged his lips up and down the side of your neck, chuckling darkly at the shudder your body involuntarily made at the sensation. “Fair enough, we have been rather busy, haven’t we? I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”

Nesta gracefully took a step closer to you, her rich, warm scent enveloping your senses as she gently removed the crown from your head, setting it down on the dresser a few feet away. “Oh please, take what Eris says with a grain of salt,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s been struggling to hold back just as much as we have. He’s desperate too.”

The High Lord paused his movements along your neck, amber eyes narrowing at her. “Careful, Nesta.” He purred. “I had planned on being generous to my mates tonight, I’d hate for it to turn into an evening of punishment and teaching that smart mouth of yours a lesson.”

Nesta bit the corner of her lip,and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden shift in the position of her thighs. She shot Eris a glare, lifting her chin with a challenge. “You wish.”

Before Eris could reply, you let out a snort of laughter at her boldness. A mistake, it seemed, as both your mates whipped their heads sharply towards you. Your stomach fluttered with a delicious fear, one that sent heat between your legs. 

“Is something funny?” Nesta asked, a hint of a smirk behind her lips.

You shook your head, resisting the urge to chuckle again. Truthfully, you were impressed with the self-restraint of your mates. For so many, the snapping of the mating bond ignited a weeks long frenzy of fucking. But even after the bond snapped between you, Nesta, and Eris, there had been next to no sexual touching. Every ounce of your being desired to ravage your mates, but Eris’s wishes to refrain until the wedding were the string that held you together. No, your male mate liked control. It was something you had always known about him, something that often made your imagination run wild with other types of control he would enjoy exercising. While you certainly liked your fair share of being in charge, you craved Eris’s approval that came with doing what he asked… after a good amount of mouthing off, that is.

Nesta had held herself together almost as well as Eris, refusing to give into your sly attempts to find a loophole in his command the last few weeks. She shared very little of what her and Cassian had done together, but you were itching to find out what she liked. To explore what buttons you could push, the sounds you could draw out from her plush lips…

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Eris’s hand found its way into the locks of hair by your scalp, expertly tugging and pulling your head back against his solid chest. The moan that escaped you was completely involuntary, your body going haywire at the simple action of your mate. 

“Nesta asked you a question,” Eris said sternly, forcing you to look up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted your head back enough for him to stare down at you. His amber eyes were dark with lust, the crown upon his head and the smug look on his face painting the perfect picture of royal arrogance. “It would do you well to answer it.”

This time you managed to catch the whimper in your throat as Eris tilted your head to the side so you were upright and facing Nesta again. The way he moved your body around as if you were a piece of chess on his playing board sent a new wave of arousal through you. You felt torn in two, part of you wanting to submit and let him use you as he pleased while the other part wanted to challenge him and face the consequences he would no doubt dole out.

Nesta’s arms were crossed, pushing up her breasts ever so slightly, which your hungry eyes noticed right away. She raised a groomed eyebrow, “well?”

Deciding to give both of them what they wanted for now, you answered. “What’s funny is I thought you’d be more submissive, Nesta. Your remark caught me off guard. After all, I know how badly you want to please Eris.” The first sentence was entirely untrue, something all three of you knew. But you couldn’t help but add kindling to the fire. The masochistic part of your brain wanted to see how you’d be punished, and if it’d be enough to break you into submission.

“Brave words for somebody who’s about to be at her mercy.” Eris’s voice was low and smooth, his lips returning to your ear. 

Nesta simply stared you down evenly, wicked cunningness lurking behind her eyes. “Pathetic, she wants us to not be nice to her and is trying to goad us into doing what she wants.”

You shook your head, but excitement ran through your veins. You heard Eris chuckle from behind you, and Nesta let out an exhale. With the mating bond still so fresh and the three of you in such close proximity, you knew they had felt your body’s every reaction as if it were their own. Despite the chill autumn breeze, the room felt stiflingly hot.

Eris’s hands moved higher on your hips, fingers spreading and ever so slightly grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Nesta stepped forward as well, so close you could smell the honey-lemon tart she ate for dessert on her breath. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her eyes still donned that stern expression that drove you crazy. Before you could say anything, her slender fingers reached down and brushed against the inside of your legs through your skirts. An icy hot shiver went up your spine at the contact, and you couldn’t help but arch into Eris, who at this point was responsible for holding you upright.

“So, it seems that you have a choice to make, my dear,” Eris said in your ear, rubbing agonisingly slow circles along your sides with his fingers. “How do you want this night to go? Do you want me to be nice and focus on making you both feel good, hm?” With those last few words, Eris gave your hair another pull, tilting your head further to the right and exposing more of your neck. You cried out as his lips and teeth finally found your skin, gently kissing and biting with the perfect amount of pressure. Instantly, your breathing became uneven, your body desperate for more.

After a few moments of pleasuring the sensitive skin on your neck, Eris removed his lips and continued. “Or perhaps, you want something a little different, for me to be mean and turn you into more of a desperate mess than you already are.”

Suddenly, the gentle strokes of his lips and tongue from before were replaced with sharp canines sinking into your skin. You gasped, a new wave of arousal rushing through you like the waves of a storm. His teeth stung in the most delicious way, mixing with the pleasure arising in your body and making your head spin.

“I think we have our answer.” Nesta chuckled, moving her hands to rest on your hip bones just below Eris’s. “But I want to hear her say it.”

“I…” You stuttered, world reeling from the whispers of touches from Nesta’s hands on your hips mixed with the harsh biting at your neck from your other mate behind you. “I want you to do your worst.”

“Masochistic little fox.” Eris purred. “If you need us to stop, please speak up at any point. This may not be the traditional coupling of mates, but I want you to enjoy it.”

“Nothing about us is traditional.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That is true.” Nesta added. As if she couldn’t take the close proximity anymore, she crashed her lips into yours, squeezing your hips as she did so. Immediately, you placed your hands on her biceps, pulling her closer and moaning into the contact. Her mouth was soft yet all-consuming, and wetness almost immediately pooled between your legs. Nesta’s kisses have always turned you on in the several that you shared, but this was different. Before, they had been tender and longing, like a prayer echoing through an abandoned church. 

There was nothing tender about the way she was kissing you now. If her previous kisses were like a gentle creek flowing through the woods, this kiss was a tsunami. It bewitched your body and soul, her lips bold and claiming you wholly. You were hers, and she was yours – that’s all her kiss told you. You pulled her even closer, her chest brushing up against yours as Eris’s hands explored further, grazing your breasts more and more with each movement. You shuddered between them, lifting a hand and bringing it around Nesta’s neck, squeezing the back of it. She let out a moan, and you used the opportunity of her slack jaw to slip your tongue into her mouth, brushing her lips and tasting every inch of her.

After several minutes of being utterly consumed by the female, you felt her pull away. You let out a whine that was cut off abruptly as you were spun around to face Eris. His green cloak and dazzling crown had been discarded already, leaving him in his red and gold robes. Even without the royal symbols, there was no mistaking his power and status. It sent a thrill through you as you stared up at the male. Chuckling, Eris’s hand wove into your hair again as he pulled you forward, pressing his lips into yours. He was rougher than Nesta, a different kind of dominance, one that was nearly overwhelming. His lips were firm against yours, commanding every ounce of your attention, and you gladly gave it to him. The hand in your hair kept you immobile, unable to resist any which way Eris chose to move you.

You felt Nesta stir behind you, and after a few moments the strings trying together the back of the dress began to loosen. Her fingers expertly undid the material, and you eagerly pulled your arms from the long sleeves while keeping your lips glued to Eris. A shiver came over your body as Nesta’s fingers grazed your newly exposed skin, pulling the soft white and red fabric down your body and letting it fall to a heap on the floor before delicately removing the emerald necklace. Nesta also reached out and pulled the remaining few bobby pins out of your hair, releasing it from the previous mess of an updo it had become. 

You stood there in your underwear, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the evening’s festivities. You did not feel the urge to shy away and cover yourself as you had when getting undressed with previous lovers. Even as Eris pulled away and took a step back to drink in your naked form, you did not cower. You were his equal, and he yours. He would come to know your body like the back of his hand, there was no use in trying to hide it.

His amber eyes went from lustful to angry as they found the scar below your belly button, that cursed letter ‘M’ that his brother had carved into your skin. You bit your lip, pushing back memories of those awful encounters with Malgorm. 

“I hate the gods for letting this happen.” Eris muttered angrily, staring at the scar as if enough willpower could wash it away. “I am so sorry–”

You took a step forward, pressing your fingers against his lips to shush him. “What’s done is done,” You murmured. “We cannot change the past. We can find a way to permanently glamour the scar, as I do not wish for it to be on my body any more than you wish to gaze upon it, my love. Let’s not worry about it for now, okay?”

A slender hand on your shoulder made you turn to face Nesta. She had removed her crown and dress as well, leaving her just as naked as you. But her face was serious, breaking the teasing tension of the room as she spoke. “Are you sure this is okay? After everything that has happened, we don’t have to do this right away. We can wait.”

You shook your head. “No,” You said firmly. “I want this. I want you both. If I was unsure I would have said so. I trust you.”

Nesta’s voice was soft. “Okay. But is there anything off limits that might cause you to become… discomforted?”

You thought for a moment, hating the memories that flashed through your mind. But you endured it. Nesta was right – before anything happened, boundaries needed to be stated. “My neck…” You said slowly, remembering how hard Malgorm had grabbed you. “I don’t want pressure on my neck, please.”

Nesta nodded with understanding. You turned around to face Eris, whose gaze had softened. “I can work with that.” He said gently.

“What about you, Nesta?” You asked, facing your female mate once again. “What’s off limits for you?”

At first, the female visibly tensed, as if fighting off the urge to put those walls back up that she had so firmly in place when you first met her. Getting Nesta to be vulnerable with sex would be a journey, that much you knew. After how she described her couplings with Cassian and other males, this discussion of limits seemed new to her. She blinked slowly, and you could see the wheels in her mind turning. 

“Take your time,” you said softly, grabbing Eris’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“My head…” Nesta said quietly after a moment, her eyes slightly glazed over as if reliving memories. “I would appreciate it if my head was not held down or restricted.”

Immediately, your mind thought of all the instances that explained this. The kelpie, the Cauldron, the human male who assaulted her, it all made sense. You nodded, then faced Eris once again to take the pressure off of Nesta. “And what about you, husband? Anything off limits?”

Eris scoffed half heartedly. “Nope. I am content with anything.”

You elbowed him lightly in the stomach, rolling your eyes. “You’re not funny. We’re trying to have a discussion here and you ruined it.”

The male made a noise of agreement, his eyes sobering up for a second before he sighed, removing the crown from his head and moving his fingers to unlace his robes. Nesta came up to stand beside you, her hand sliding into yours but her eyes fixed on Eris. Both of you stared as the male removed his robes and unlaced his tunic. You felt Nesta’s breath catch as Eris’s bare torso was revealed. Slender muscles were covered in faint scars. They looked to be from some sort of burning lashes – Beron’s doing, no doubt. Bile rose in your throat at the sight before you, at the thought of how bad these injuries must have been to still be scarred centuries later.

“My father liked to use his own fire on me,” Eris said slowly. “The wounds from the beatings disappeared fast, but my…. harsher punishments involved fire. I think in a way, he wanted me to fear our fire. But like many things in life, he failed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “For this reason, I do not wish for pain to be inflicted upon me during sex. While I will inflict it if it’s something you want, I am firmly against being on the receiving end of it.”

“I understand.” You said, and Nesta murmured in agreement. Even with the scars, your body still heated up at the sight of Eris shirtless. They marked his skin like stars in the night sky, glowing in the candlelight. He was strikingly beautiful, every inch of him. From the way Nesta’s breathing changed beside you, he was having the same effect on her, too.

Finally, the arrogant smirk returned to Eris’s face. “Excellent, now that we are all in agreement…” His amber gaze fell upon you, making your knees weak as he spoke with lethal command, “Get on the bed.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but obliged, giving Nesta a quick kiss on the cheek on your way over. The mattress was soft and plushy as you sank down onto it, and you briefly wondered if you even wanted to know how much it had cost. 

All distracting thoughts vanished from your head as Nesta strode over, prowling like a dragon approaching a lost sheep. The silver light from the moon and the golden light from the candles illuminated her soft curves in an otherworldly way, the coronet now evolved into a simple loose, messy braid coming over her shoulder. She smirked as you leaned up to kiss her from your sitting position. Before your lips could reach hers, she chuckled and abruptly pushed you back so you were laying down. The yelp you let out as you unexpectedly fell back was cut off by a kiss, her mouth swallowing any noise you made as you melted beneath her. The rich scent of your combined arousals flooded the room, filling your senses.

Nesta’s thighs straddled you as she pressed her body into yours, her creamy skin brushing against you and making your nerves go haywire as she shifted her mouth to your throat, planting gentle kisses there before sliding further down your body. You reached down to try and pull her back up so you could touch her, but two silver flames appeared around your wrists, gently guiding them up over your head and twining into the bedframe, leaving your hands tied. You whimpered in complaint, causing Nesta to stop her kisses just above your breast. 

“I’m sorry, did you want to touch me?” She asked huskily, eyes dark. Her lips moved just above your nipple, her breath sending the bud into a peak.

“Yes.” You said breathily, trying to keep the desperate tone out of your voice.

Nesta gave your nipple a quick lick, causing your entire body to twitch before she continued. “Too bad, you have to earn it.”

“And how do I do that?” You snapped in frustration, unable to stop yourself. 

As quick as a snake, Nesta reached under your thigh and hoisted your hips off the mattress. With her other hand, she reached underneath and slapped your ass. Hard. Instinctively, you moaned loudly, pain and pleasure coursing through your body and creating even more wetness between your legs. Through half-open eyes, you saw Nesta blink in surprise then smile wickedly. She turned to Eris, who had discarded his bottoms and was palming himself through his underwear. A silent conversation passed between them, and you shivered with anticipation before Nesta turned back towards you. “Lose the attitude, love,” she said.

You huffed, but tried to force the attitude out of your voice. “Boring. What do I have to do to earn it?”

“You’ll have to beg us to let you cum, and you’ll ask permission to do so.”

“I don’t beg.”

“Oh but you will,” Eris chimed in, gently gliding his fingers down Nesta’s spine as she took your nipple in her mouth, causing you to moan. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

You couldn’t deny that. All you could focus on was Nesta’s mouth on you, her other hand fondling the other breast. All the squirming in the world was useless against those silver flame restraints, which was unyielding. Finally, Nesta shuffled down so she was kneeling on the ground with her upper body between your thighs. Involuntarily, your legs automatically widened as she settled in, which did not go unnoticed.

“Wow, you are desperate for me, aren’t you?” Nesta teased, running a finger up your inner thigh. “The lightest of touches have you soaked through your underwear, I can’t imagine how you’ll react when I get my mouth on you.”

You whimpered at her words that washed over you like warm water. You had never been this wet, this aching to be touched. Nesta was smug as her finger ghosted over your clothed slit, feeling the wetness of the thin material. Your hips jolted at the sensation, electric shock wracking your nerves. 

Your mates were going to be the death of you. Every instinct screamed to find a way out of the restraints and pounce on Nesta and Eris, but your desire to please them overpowered it.

“My, my, she’s sensitive,” Eris mocked. “I don’t think she’ll be able to handle what we’ve got planned.”

“She will,” Nesta said sternly before glancing up at you. “Won’t you?”

You nodded in blind agreement, the anticipation of not knowing what was coming next both exciting and terrifying you. “Good girl,” Nesta replied before grabbing your panties and tearing them in two, revealing your soaking wet pussy. She moaned at the sight of your exposed core, making you pool even further. Every sound she made, every look she gave you was enough to drive you crazy. Your thighs were near trembling as she lightly touched your clit, the contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves making you jump and your thighs twitch.

“Look how wet she is,” Eris said. “And we haven’t even done anything…”

Your eyes snapped open fully when you realised he had removed his underwear and was stroking his cock. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the male with his hand wrapped around his long cock, a smug expression on his face as he stared down at you like you were a piece of meat served up on a platter. “See something you like?” He said arrogantly as he noted your expression.

“Mother above, do I ever,” You replied breathlessly. “My brain doesn’t even know where to focus.”

Nesta said, “I think I can remedy that.” Without another word, the female’s head dove between your thighs, her tongue sliding up from your entrance to your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. Bursting with pleasure, your back arched off the bed, hands angrily pulling against the restraints begging to touch Nesta. She repeated the pattern, licking and sucking in all the right spots and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Cursing under your breath, you let out moans as Nesta ate you out. Her hands were wrapped around your thighs, burying herself as far into you as she could. You could feel her enjoyment and desire through the mating bond, which intensified the experience tenfold. Never before had you been this turned on this fast. Nesta had already figured out what made your body sing and was playing it like a violin. Eris was kneeling behind Nesta, pressing kisses all over her back. The sight of it turned you on even more.

You could pinpoint the exact moment Eris’s fingers found Nesta’s pussy. The female let out a moan that sent vibrations into your core, making your moan echo off of hers. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Nesta’s mouth on you and Eris’s fingers rubbing Nesta’s clit. Her face was screwed up with pleasure and a focused determination, her tongue never relenting against you.

“Isn’t she making you feel so good?” Eris asked you. “Nesta seems like she’s already doing very good with her mouth, I can’t wait to test it out myself.”

“So fucking good…” You murmured, causing Nesta to moan in approval between your legs.

The sounds between Nesta’s thighs intensified as Eris slipped a finger into her, curling it in a way that had her squirming in between you two. “Do you know how many nights I’ve had to get myself off to refrain from storming into your rooms and dragging both of you into my bed to be fucked senseless? I’ve had so many fantasies about what I want to do to you two, even with an eternity ahead of us I don’t know if we’ll have time to complete them all…” The male continued, cocking his head and pushing his hips forward, letting his cock rub against Nesta’s ass. “Is this everything you dreamed of, my love, hmm?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, hands gripping onto the headboard as you writhed underneath Nesta’s mouth. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, coupled with the sight of Eris behind Nesta’s kneeling form with his knuckles buried inside her, you felt yourself approaching the journey to your climax within ten minutes, a new record for you.​ Your mate between your legs whimpered as Eris’s movements seemingly sped up, but she kept her blue-grey eyes open and looking up at you. Incoherent noises escaped your throat as you began to plead. “Please…” you begged. “I’m getting close…”

“Close to what?” Eris asked mockingly, his voice perfectly even as if he wasn’t curling his fingers inside Nesta so tactfully that she was shaking slightly. “You have to use your words, my love.”

You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, coming crashing towards you like a tidal wave. “Please… I’m gonna–” Your words were abruptly cut off as you were unable to hold back the inevitable. Like water overflowing a cup, your orgasm washed over you, spreading that warm electric sensation through your nerve endings. Nesta groaned with pleasure as your hips bucked against her face, grinding into it as you rode out your high. The world went silent around you in those few, stretched out seconds. It was an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced.

With shaking legs you caught your breath and Nesta finally removed her tongue from your cunt. You watched through hooded lids as she leaned her head back, and Eris bent down and kissed her hungrily, lapping up your juices. One of his hands grabbed her breast, squeezing it in his fingers and making her moan into his mouth. They were like two gods in a painting before you, one you would happily stare at for the rest of your life.

The silver flames around your wrists vanished, and you eagerly brought your arms back down to stretch them out. When Nesta and Eris eventually separated, they turned their gazes towards you. And you knew you were fucked from the wicked look in their eyes.

“I’m sorry–” You began apologising, but Eris cut you off.

“We asked you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do it…” He said with gleeful disappointment. “A shame, I had such a lovely reward in mind for you if you had just been a good girl.”

Nesta scoffed. “I think she wanted the punishment.”

“She will regret that very soon.” Eris stood up and strode over to your side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. “Did we say you could cum?”

You shook your head, earning you another harsh tug that elicited a moan. “I asked you a question,” Eris hissed. “Did we say you could cum?”

“No…” You stuttered weakly, shrinking beneath his and Nesta’s gazes.

“Then why did you?”

“It felt too good, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Do you think flattery will keep you from punishment?”

You sheepishly shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

Eris barked out a laugh, grabbing you gently by the hands and guiding you off the bed. Your legs still felt weak, and had it not been for Eris you would have surely stumbled in your first few steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta smugly smirking at her handiwork, her cheeks flushed. 

But Eris’s hand grasped your chin, turning your focus to him as you met his gaze. “Go to the empty space on the wall,” He said slowly. “And place your hands on it and spread your legs.”

You baulked, eyes widening. The evil grin on his face sent chills up your spine. Despite your recent orgasm, your body began to heat up again. Knowing better than to protest this time, you did as you were told. The sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the large bedroom as you walked over to the gap in the wall between the fireplace and the corner area. Taking a deep breath, you faced the wall and placed your hands on the smooth wood. It was cold beneath your touch, a soothing sensation against your sweating palms. You mentally cursed your body at how quickly it was recovering and ready for a second round. The mating bond was thick with desire so palpable you could feel it.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you, and you knew without looking that it was Eris. His presence could be felt creeping up on you as if it were your own shadow. You flinched as he put his hands on your waist, pressing his chest into your back. His cock rubbed against your ass as it did with Nesta’s, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “If you want something, you have to ask for it,” Eris murmured in your ear. “Those are my rules, and you have already broken them. I am going to spank you ten times, and you’re going to fucking take it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Eris.” You whimpered. Behind you, his cock twitched at the moaning of his name and the male groaned. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta take a seat in the nearby chair with a glass of white wine in hand. She had run a comb through her hair, and when she caught your gaze she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me for help,” she chided. “You’ve done this to yourself. I will not get you out of this.”

You sighed, trembling in anticipation and waiting with bated breath for the first strike. Wasting no time, it came seconds later. Eris’s hand came down on your right ass cheek, hard. From your throat came a guttural cry, one you didn’t know you were capable of making. It was a cross between a scream and a moan, crossing into the latter as the impact from the initial sting melted into a white hot pleasure. You barely had time to recover before the second one came on the other cheek this time, drawing out the same response.

“Good girl…” Eris murmured, rubbing your ass and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You sighed beneath his touch, melting into it. 

But the tenderness didn’t last long. By the seventh spank, tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“Aw, look at her, Eris,” Nesta spoke up. “You’ve made her cry.”

Your laboured breaths drowned out his response as you pressed your forehead into your arms, which you had valiantly kept pressed against the wall. Your ass stung and sweat dripped down your forehead. But the cherry on top was your dripping cunt. Wetness had seeped down your thighs, glistening in the candlelight of the room on display for everyone to see.

You felt Eris’s hand brush some stray hairs out of your face, and he leaned in close to murmur into your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You whispered, nodding feverishly. 

There was no teasing in your mate’s voice as he spoke. “Do we need to stop?”

“No,” You insisted. “I can handle three more, I promise.”

You felt Eris nod against you before pulling away and continuing to rub your ass, which already donned the formations of several dark bruises. You turned your head towards Nesta, who was watching the scene with lust in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, my love,” she said tenderly. “You can do it.”

With a newfound determination, you forced your body to relax as Eris’s hand came down again with a loud smack, making you wince and grow wetter at the same time. Then again, and again. Finally, after the tenth smack, you collapsed your head into your arms again, panting. Your legs felt as weak as a newborn deer, gangly and unstable. You didn’t even have the energy to react as Eris swiped his fingers through your slip, sampling the wetness gathered there. 

He chuckled darkly. “My, my, somebody sure enjoyed that.”

“I’m not surprised, given her reaction to my one slap earlier.” Nesta said, placing her wine glass on the table next to her before standing up and making her way over to where you and Eris were standing. She wiped some sweat from your brow with a cloth and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Well done.”

“Is my punishment over?” You asked weakly.

“Not quite,” Eris responded, gently guiding you over to the chair Nesta had been seated in. “You’ve demonstrated a lack of patience, which is unacceptable. So you are going to learn to be patient, and you are going to sit here and watch me fuck Nesta.”

“And you’re not allowed to touch yourself,” Nesta added sternly as Eris pushed you into the chair, which was now turned to face the bed and had a glass of water next to it. Truthfully, your body was relieved at the idea of getting a break. Your muscles ached from the trembling, and the idea of watching your mates fuck each other made your body heat up. So you nodded, getting a kiss on the cheek from each of your mates before they made their way to the bed. After taking a sip of the ice cold water, you leaned back in the plushy chair.

Nesta knelt on the bed, her long locks cascading down her back as she looked up at Eris. He stood before her at the edge of the bed like an altar she was worshipping, his lean muscles illuminated by the moon. He bent down and kissed Nesta as if she contained the last molecules of air left in this universe, his lips moulding into hers perfectly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched her shoulders relax as she melted into his kiss. Desire began to build in you once again, just by watching your mates share a heated kiss.

With a shove on the shoulder, Eris pushed Nesta into the bed so she was laying down. He wasted no time crawling over her body and pressing heated kisses across her chest. As his mouth came to her nipple, Nesta moaned and wound a hand in the male’s red locks, arching her back into his touch. Your palms itched with the urge to go over there and help, but the soreness of your ass reminded you to stay in your seat. 

“Fuck, these are gorgeous…” Eris murmured before switching to her other breast. He groaned into the mound of flesh as Nesta’s grip in his hair tightened, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber.

Don’t touch yourself, you reminded yourself. No matter how hot the scene before you was, and despite the fact you normally loved being punished, you knew your mates were the type to only be so forgiving.

Grabbing one of Nesta’s long legs, Eris placed a kiss on the inside of her calf, working his way down. Nesta’s breathing shifted, her hips squirming to try and meet his face, but the male swerved every time and kissed her thigh instead. More arousal pooled between your legs as you watched Nesta squirm beneath Eris.

“Please, Eris…” Nesta breathed, her cheeks red and eyes half closed with desire.

The red haired male stopped, his lips centimetres above her pussy. “Please what?”

“Please use your mouth on me…”

Nesta’s pleas made you whimper. All you wanted to do was go over there and satisfy her, to have her clamp her thighs around your head until the world crumbled into ash before you. Eris turned his head to face you, where you were gripping the arms of the chair. “See how she asked nicely?” He said to you, “Now she’s going to get what she wants. It’s that simple.”

His pale fingers gripped Nesta’s hips tightly, pinning them down to the mattress as he brought his face between her legs and began his work. Immediately, Nesta let out a loud moan – she was much more vocal than you, letting her noises out shamelessly as she was pinned down. After several minutes, Eris easily slid two fingers into Nesta, stretching her out yet still keeping her hips still with only one hand. 

“Oh, fuck…” Nesta cried out as Eris curled his fingers inside her, one of her hands gripping the sheets while the other palmed her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed, and it was only minutes later when Eris pulled away. Nesta whined at the loss of contact, and he let out a growl, grabbing her leg and hitching it up against his waist. You watched with a slack jaw and clenched legs as Eris lined his cock up with Nesta’s entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

Nesta’s face contorted, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth opening in pleasure as Eris pushed himself to the hilt. His head tilted back, and his jaw clenched with pleasure. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand so hard it almost bled, the sensation of watching your mates’ blissed out expressions almost overpowering.

Eris leaned over Nesta, one hand on her thigh keeping it up against his hip while the other planted itself beside her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for him to pound in and out of Nesta, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and drowning out Nesta’s moans. Eris was fucking Nesta hard, her toes visible curling with each thrust.

As Nesta’s legs began to tremble not ten minutes later, Eris slowed down his thrusts, making her whine. He turned his head towards you, a devilish grin on face. “So, my dear,” he said to you. “Do you think Nesta deserves to cum?”

Surprise flickered in you, and seemingly in Nesta too, for she turned her head sharply to look at you with wide eyes as Eris’s hand rubbed her clit. “P…please…” she begged you, desperation written all across your face.

You were torn in two. You wanted nothing more than to see Nesta cum, to watch her writhe underneath Eris as she rode out a blissful high. But the sinister part of you wanted to show her that you weren’t the only one who could take charge.

After a minute, you came to your decision. “No.”

“What?!” Nesta sputtered angrily as Eris pulled out of her, chuckling. Her hair was stuck to her face, her lips swollen from kissing and her cheeks red. Her grey eyes shot you a  furious glare.

“That’s my devilish little fox,” Eris purred, beckoning you over with a finger. “You took your punishment very well, and I think it’s time for a reward.”

“Please,” you begged pathetically as you laid down on the bed beside Nesta, desperate for any physical contact. 

Sensing that, Eris gave you a quick kiss before grabbing your hips and spreading your legs with his knees. You were so soaking wet that after checking your comfort with two fingers, Eris lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you with ease. The breath was knocked out of your lungs at the impact, the delicious stinging pain of the stretch quickly melting into pleasure as it had with the spanks. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his soft grunts filling the air.

Beside you, Nesta sat up, a playful look in her eyes replacing the furious one. She grabbed your hair just as Eris had, forcing you to look at her. “Since you decided to be a brat and not let me finish after I was so nice to you, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours to shut you up and use you to finish myself off. Got it?”

About to burst with happiness that your plan worked, you nodded eagerly, shifting your shoulders to get more comfortable. Seeing the smugness on your face, Nesta rolled her eyes but released her hair, spinning her hips to face Eris. She then swung her leg over your face, leaning forward to place her hands on your breasts and play with them as she lowered herself down.

You moaned into her pussy, tasting the mixture of her and Eris on your tongue, eagerly lapping it up. You used the tip of your tongue to flick her clit, making her legs twitch around your head. Repeating patterns of licking and sucking, you gripped Nesta’s hips tightly as she grinded herself into your face.

Eris’s thrusts had somehow gotten more powerful, making you whimper into Nesta. Your wife let out a moan at the vibration, then Eris’s fingers found your clit. You were oversensitive, and as a result moaned repeatedly between Nesta’s thighs. Her legs began to shake around you, her hands squeezing your breasts as she panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes.” Eris grunted, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own release. Seconds later, Nesta moaned wantonly, her legs clenching your head and shaking like an earthquake as you sucked on her clit, drawing out her release. She cried out, her orgasm wracking her body as she grinded her hips into your face even more. You happily took it, whimpering as her moans spurred both you and Eris on towards your own release. 

As Nesta dragged her trembling self off of your body, she flopped down beside you. Her fingers quickly took Eris’s hand’s place at your clit, rubbing back and forth harshly. You nearly screamed at the sudden pressure, white hot pleasure pooling in your gut ready to burst.

“Come for me, my love,” Nesta purred in your ear.

That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your muscles clenched as your release shot through you, and you gasped with the sudden wave of pleasure. Nesta murmured praises in your ear as you rode your high, and Eris let out a growling moan as his hips sputtered, your clenching around his cock spurring on his orgasm. You cried out as his cum shot into you, the sensation almost overwhelming and prolonging your high. 

Finally, the ironclad grip on your hips released and Eris slowly pulled himself out of you. Your legs twitched, all three of you panting in an attempt to catch your breath. Deep down, you felt whole, as if the mating bond had somehow grown even stronger since before the wedding. It was as if a piece of you had been missing before you met Nesta and Eris, and they were slowly filling that void with pieces of their own.

“Does anyone fancy joining me for a shower? I’ll have someone deliver our favourite snacks afterwards,” Eris asked, standing up and holding his hands out for you and Nesta. Eagerly, you both took his extended hands and headed towards the newly built bathing room.

As the three of you stood under the multiple shower heads, tenderly washing each other when needed, you felt happy tears prick your eyes. The Nesta you met six months ago was a shell of herself, angry, with walls as high as Ramiel that refused to be crumbled by anyone. She was an object in another male’s court, a pawn in the games he played. An aggressive animal that was to be locked in a cage and only lured out when they had use for her. That Nesta never would have let anyone wash her hair, or cuddle beside her in bed. The Nesta standing beneath the shower with you was a changed female, one who knew her value and was now finally free to make her own choices without threats being made at every corner. She laughed freely, smiled more often, and the life had returned to her eyes.

Eris was a male who you never thought would tenderly kiss your forehead, or kneel before you to help you wash your legs. To be raised in an environment as harsh as Beron’s shadow, you knew how lucky you truly were that his heart stayed good. No matter how often he would deny it, you knew he was a good male.

And so all of the horrors you had faced in the last six months washed away with your happy tears in the shower, your wife and your husband beside you to hold you up no matter what.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful  @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-99 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford  @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @red-bees @daughterofthemoons-stuff @bloodicka @blackgirlmagicforever @writeroutoftime @paleidiot @

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

When Our Lips Meet Again

Part 15 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Description: You're not the biggest party person, preferring quiet nights at home. But with Jake deployed and your dad asking you to attend a fundraising gala as a favor, you're in need of a distraction. If only you knew that a pretty girl in a cocktail dress would be like catnip to all the single men prowling these events. Only a surprise can turn this night around, and what a surprise it is!

Disclaimers: Smut

Warnings: Female Reader. One jealous man who is jealous cause Jake gets Gorgeous and he doesn't. Gorgeous gets called a slut by a random guy she snubs.

Word Count: 3160

Author Note: Hiya Lovelies! I can't believe it's been 6 months since I posted the last chapter for this story! This chapter is lovingly dedicated to the beautiful @sarahsmi13s who requested 💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss during my pairing kiss game for the couple of my choice. So here we are! I hope you love your surprise kiss, Vin!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

There has to be a limit for the number of times you can get hit on at a gala, right? Because it feels like you’re hitting your limit tonight. You're used to being a wallflower, perpetually ignored. Maybe the attention is on the dress you've been forced to wear tonight. It's the complete opposite of the cute a-line gowns you prefer, and you think you look the opposite of flattering in it. On second thought, maybe it's the open bar's influence?

“What’s a pretty girl like you drinking all alone tonight?”

Of all the lines in all the bars in the world. You just wanted an escape from incessant small talk, an opportunity to relax a little bit. You definitely wanted to relish the top shelf whiskey the foundation had selected. What you didn't want is a man in your personal space, his cologne too-strong and stinging at your nostrils. Your eyes roll, even as you take a fortifying sip of your drink and paste an easy smile on your face. It’s not the first time you’ve been asked whether you’d like another drink “on me”. But this guy is a little more persistent. Your politely brusque denial of a drink didn't dissuade him at all.

“How many of these galas do you attend in a week, huh?” He grins at you, leaning against the bar with a cut-crystal glass in his hand. There’s a ring on his pinky, the gem large enough, ostentatious enough that you’re sure he’s overcompensating for something. “That dress, the way you’re sipping on a real drink instead of champagne is proof. You come to these galas a lot, and damn you're gorgeous.”

Hearing that particular endearment from someone other than Jake makes a shiver of disgust trickle down your spine. It makes you miss your fiancé, too. Because Jake’s not at the gala with you tonight, no matter how much you wish he was. Instead, he’s thousands of miles away on an aircraft carrier, leaving you to the mercy of all of the single men cruising these galas for a girl to take home for the night. Your lack of response doesn’t seem to bother the guy chattering your ear off, nor does your placid smile in his direction. You don't attempt to respond, not that he’s noticed since he's chattering on without even glancing in your direction.

“I attend at least four galas a week. It’s so boring, you know? You see the same people, talk about the same things and then donate money for whatever the cause of the evening is. I’m not all that impressed tonight by this new foundation.”

Something about his tone rubs away what is left of your patience. It's either his tone or his callous dismissal of a cause you’re here to support.

“That’s nice.” You let just a little of your bubbling rage show up in your smile before turning around. “It was lovely to chat, but I do believe I saw a colleague I haven’t chatted with in a few months.”

You leave your Old Fashioned on the counter as you stride away, only bemoaning the loss of the top-shelf whiskey. 

Galas aren’t a thing in your quiet white-collar world. Jake has told you stories, some of them good and some bad, about the naval galas he’s attended. And of course, you’ve had the first-hand experience of sitting up in bed for your dad to kiss you goodnight before he left for one of his Naval galas. But somehow you have the feeling at least at a Naval Gala, you’ll be able to chat with the other attendees and have a little bit of fun.

Right now, even if fun isn't an option, you can find your aunt for a little bit of protection. She’s the other reason why you’re wandering around this ballroom in heels pinching your toes with a fake smile plastered across your face. Diane Kerner is what most people would call a force of nature. She’s your dad’s younger (and only) sister and probably the reason why Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner, a man who grunts at least ninety percent of the time as his sole form of communication, joined the board of the Navy NGO whose gala you’re at tonight.

“Darling! There you are!” 

Think of the devil and there she is! She’s glittering (literally) in the periwinkle gown she’s chosen to wear tonight and with her blonde hair teased into the biggest bun you’ve seen out of magazines since 1980, you’re not sure how you missed her earlier. With her carrying voice and even more eye-catching personality, Diane Kerner is always in high demand.

“Auntie Di! I just stepped away to the bar to grab a quick drink. I was a little parched.”

“Who needs a drink when you’ve got all these gorgeous young men at your feet?”

“Auntie!” Your laughter spills out across the room as she pulls you seamlessly into the conversation she's having with a large group of older women. They coo and fawn over you in the way older women do, and you relish in the attention. Here, you know the role you have to play.

“This is my niece.” She introduces you proudly, and while she's waxing poetic about your skills in the way only a Kerner can, you're fighting off your embarrassment. At least the ladies are better than the flirting men.

“Not only is she gorgeous, but she's got an absolutely amazing fiancé, too! Show them the ring, honey bun!”

“Auntie!”

You protest, but show off your engagement ring as ordered.

“Tell the kind ladies about your fiancé, honey-bun.”

You can feel a smile curl your lips just at the thought of Jake. 

“His name is Jake.” You start off easy, telling them how he’s a Lieutenant in the US Navy, based out of North Island and a naval aviator to boot. “He would have come to this gala with me, but he’s deployed right now.”

Your aunt trills happily, “and he's so fine ladies that were I twenty years younger, he'd be my fiancé instead of honey bun's!”

“And were you twenty years younger, Diane, I'd happily accept my fate.”

Your heart flip flops in your chest and the ever present butterflies in your stomach take flight just at the sound of his voice. Honestly you should probably upgrade the butterflies to F-18s, because it feels like you can't hear anything but the sound of the jets at North Island taxing for takeoff. His arm wraps around your waist and it's pavlovian how you sink back against his chest. The kiss he presses, tender and soft against your burgundy lips makes you feel like you're flying faster than Jake's jets ever could.

“You must be Jake!” The ladies are cooing at him like he's the best thing at the gala, and well, you're not going to disabuse them of the notion. You're content to reclaim your prior wallflower status and luxuriate in the familiar scent of his cologne. The old fashioned he'd pressed into your palms helps as does the distracting circles he's making against your hip with his big hand.

“She's absolutely brilliant, ladies, I know. Can I tell you all a secret?” You can't hide your fond smile as he leans in closer to the ladies, who are all leaning in rapt in the face of his charm. “I still don't know why she agreed to marry me.”

“Because I love you.” Your voice carries just far enough for your little group to hear.

“Did you hear that, ladies? She loves me!”

His grin makes your heart stutter in your chest as you drink him in. His eyes are the same shade of green you adore, though the bags under them are concerning. His smile is the same too, and you're sure you'll never tire of how it makes you feel. He's wearing a crisp suit, and though it's a little baggy around his waist, you’re content just having him here with you. You can fix his restless nights and lack of appetite soon. Right now all you want is to kiss your fiancé.

“Now if you ladies would excuse me, I've got a gorgeous fiancée to take for a spin around the dance floor.”

He bows to the ladies, kisses your aunt on her cheek and whirls you away. You can hear the pleased laughter, and you're laughing yourself as he pulls you onto the dance floor.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

His hands are sure as he tugs you in until there’s barely an inch between the two of you.

“Because I've been dreaming of you for the past few months and seeing you in this dress is enough to wonder if I'm still dreaming. I really need to thank Diane for putting you in this dress because you look incredible.”

You shiver as he presses a kiss against your mostly bare shoulder.

“I think I have to thank Aunt Di, too. Because looking at the smug grin on her face, she planned this.” 

As Jake whirls you around the dance floor, you can see your Aunt standing at the edge of the floor with a polaroid camera snapping away. Her smile is from ear-to-ear and you can practically hear how she is ordering everyone to look at her niece and nephew-to-be.

“Both your dad and aunt were involved, Gorgeous. They told me you weren't exactly taking care of yourself.”

You grin up at him, aching to kiss him.

“As if you're one to talk. You've got bags under your eyes and you're too thin!”

“Mmm, but those are explainable. I didn't have you, or your heavenly bed.”

You kiss him then, curling your fingers into his hair. This kiss, an echo of your first all those months ago, feels infinitely more special. When you pull away, it is to light applause as the waltz ends.

“How soon do you think we can get out of here, Gorgeous?”

You shrug, pretending not to notice the heat in his eyes.

“I think Aunt Di wanted me to chat with a couple more people for dad's sake.”

You tap your bottom lip wonderingly, but you don’t get the chance to put up your charade for long. Before you can blink you're being led out of the ballroom. Instead of leading you to the valet stand or calling a taxi, Jake pulls you into a deserted coat closet.

“What exactly are we doing here?”

He presses you up against the door and kisses you again.

“You've gotta be good for me, Gorgeous. It's been so long since I've had you. I can't wait to get you home.”

You gasp as he rucks your dress up, calloused fingers feeling perfectly rough on your legs as he bares you to his gaze. Your lingerie tonight matches your dress, the lace dampening quickly at the gusset before his eyes.

“I missed you, really I did, beautiful. But I think I missed this pretty little pussy more.”

He growls the words as he licks a wet strip up your slit. You gasp, head lolling backwards as your fiancé, your gorgeous amazing fiancé eats you out like a man starved. You were wet just at the feeling of him against your skin. You've been aching for him since the first kiss. Now, you're not letting him leave this coat closet until you've had him. Your hands cradle his head as he licks at you, pushing his head where you need him, uncaring of how the rough silk of his stubble prickles your most tender places.

“God, Jay.” You're shivering against him, nipples hard points you can see against the silky fabric of your dress. Your chest heaves for breath as your fiancé drags you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“I'm so close, baby. Fuck, right there!”

You're babbling, cursing. The dress feels like too much material on your skin, and your fiancé is no help. Each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven as he drives you higher. At least until he kisses your thighs and rises, lips glistening with your wetness just before you cum.

“Jay!” You're whining, lips dipping into the brattiest pout you can muster as you take in the satisfied look on his face.

“Nuh-uh, gorgeous. That was an appetizer. I'm not letting you cum until you're riding on my cock, screaming my name.”

You rub your thighs together at his words, barely noticing how he stuffs your panties into his trouser pocket. You're more than a little dazed as Jake leads you to the valet stand and has the valet retrieve your car.

“Slut.” The word scoffed in your direction is barely audible, but it jerks you out of your horny daze.

“Excuse me?” Jake's glare is out in full force as he stares down the man who called you that. Of course it just has to be your friend from the bar.

“She heard me.” He puffs up in his tailored suit. “Bitch was flirting with me at the bar not ten minutes before you walked in.”

“Now she’s all over you.”

“Son, I don’t think you said what I think you did. Not to my fiancé.” The other man's face blanches as Jake marches up to him. They're standing toe-to-toe and physically, you know Jake could beat him up before the other guy could even blink. He's probably spent hours in the gym every day while deployed.

“Now apologize to the pretty lady who is so far outta your league that she did you a favor by talking to you at the bar and walk away.”

The other man grumbles, but he walks away with a muttered apology in your direction just as your car pulls up. You tip the valet with a weak smile and collapse into the passenger seat. You feel every inch of the slut he called you at that moment. The intrusive thoughts spiral as you scan your memory for the reactions of all the people who could have seen you staggering out of the coat closet with Jake on your heels. You can only imagine the way you looked, with your hair in a disarray and your lipstick smeared across your face.

“Gorgeous? Sweetheart? Baby, can you look at me?”

You're not sure when Jake started trying to get your attention. You’ve been so stuck in your thoughts, you barely noticed the drive home. Now he’s standing in the driveway, your door open, kneeling on the dirty pavement, uncaring of how the dirt must be soaking into the knees of his trousers.

“You know what he said was wrong, right?”

“How? I was supposed to be networking and convincing people to donate money to the foundation. Not jump my fiancé the moment I saw him.”

“You didn’t jump me the minute you saw me, gorgeous.” Jake helps you out of the car, swooping you into his arms like you don’t weigh a thing at all. “If you had, then all those rich people definitely would have gotten an eyeful.”

You snicker weakly as Jake shoulders the door open and closed again before practically vaulting up the stairs.

“You have no idea why that guy said what he did, do you?”

You shrug, "Because I was acting exactly like he said I was?”

“No, gorgeous.” He kisses you then, slow and sweet, so sweet you feel like crying when he pulls away. “He was jealous. Jealous because you brushed him off. Jealous because you let me kiss you in front of everyone in there when he so desperately wanted to. Jealous because he realized then he would never get to have you - never be lucky enough to have you, like I am.”

“You’re lucky to have me?”

The smile taking over his face is breathtakingly gorgeous. “More lucky than you know.”

“Can I show you how lucky I am?”

You’re nodding before he’s even done saying the words, wrestling with the zip at the back of your dress, the heat you’d felt earlier sinking back through your veins. Your lingerie disappears like you weren’t wearing it at all, and you’re sure you’ll find the pretty lace ripped in some corner of your bedroom later.

“There’s my pretty girl, my gorgeous.” He drags kisses over your skin with each word, and it feels like you could cum just from the growl in his voice as he worships you.

“I missed you, you know?” He flips you on the bed until your ass is up, his big hands kneading the cheeks in a way which has you a little light-headed, though that is probably easier to blame on the alcohol at the gala.

“I missed the way you hum, absentmindedly when you’re puttering around the kitchen. I missed the way you curl into me in the middle of the night, like you can’t bear to be away from me even for a few moments.” 

He presses a kiss against the nape of your neck, clever fingers cupping your breasts tenderly.

“And god did I miss the way you sound when I’m buried in you.” He presses a tender kiss against the nape of your neck before he sheathes himself in your heat. You moan, the sound reverberating through the room.

“Just like that, gorgeous.” The soft exhale of curse words against your skin has nothing to how good Jake makes you feel, how he always makes you feel. The orgasm he’d kept from you earlier crashes viciously over you. Usually your endurance is a bit better than this. But usually, you’re getting fucked the way you like every day.

“I'm so close,” You’re sobbing, he feels so good. Your voice is strung out, unsteady, each snapping thrust making you cry his name into the silent night air. 

“Cum for me, my gorgeous girl.”

It's like you're conditioned by the sound of his voice, the feeling of his skin, because every time you lose yourself in him, you find a bit more of yourself in the process. You can feel the aftershocks of your orgasm even when he pulls away, the sensations shuddering over your skin.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur hazily against his collarbones after you're both clean and are under fresh sheets. “Tonight should've been about me, not you.”

“My gorgeous girl, taking care of you makes me happier than you know.” 

He pulls you in until your back is pressed against his chest, one big hand cupping your breast.

“And I'm going to do it for the rest of my life. No matter who hurts you, how life punches you down, it's going to be me and you against the world. Never question that.”

The earnest emotion in his voice has you choking up. You can’t think of the words to say, how to respond. So you pour your love into a kiss, drowning in the feeling of his lips against yours, sure he has you, and convinced you have him too.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@love2write2626 @little-wiseone @eli2447 @f1maverick @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @abaker74 @marvelouslyme96 @daddymack01 @essie1876 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @teacupsandtopgun @sarahsmi13s @dizzybee03

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 18 - What’s on Izuku’s mind?

Summary: Izuku’s friends freak out over his weird behavior. When the boys go after him, Izuku’s secret gets revealed.

Warnings: Swear words, suggestive thoughts, quite a lot of talk about condoms. 😂 16+ for safety.

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“I’m quite sure you don’t need 15 protein shake powders for 5 days, Y/N.” Katsuki appears behind you with an incredulous look on his face. You were so deep in your thoughts you somehow put the whole shelf into your cart while you only need one. Great. “What’s strong, Sweets?”

Wow, that name sounds absolutely wrong from his mouth but you decide not to comment on that. He didn’t mean any harm with it. He never does.

“I said something in the plane that made him sad. But then he looked okay, but…” You mumble, trying your best not to cry in the middle of the grocery store. Katsuki sighs.

“But you are scared he was faking it and he’s crying in a corner right now.” Katsuki finishes your sentence. You turn around to look at him properly, and for your surprise, he looks just as concerned as you. “My fucking argument with the bird boy didn’t help either, so don’t worry, it’s not just your fault.”

“That doesn’t make me feel less stressed, Katsuki.” You retort with a sharp gaze.

“I know, but I also don’t want you to think everything is your fault. Because it’s not.” Katsuki bites his bottom lip with a frown on his face.

“Is this about Izuku?” Rody decides to join the conversation, his voice mild and careful.

He’s really trying, bless him.

“He’s been acting weird and left to look around alone instead of being with us. Usually, when he feels… down… he does that. Runs away like an injured cat ready to die.” Katsuki takes a deep breath, also doing his best to not start another quarrel with the brown haired man.

You can’t believe how much these two love Izuku. The fact that they are trying this hard right now speaks more than thousands of words ever could. He’s so lucky to have them.

“I can send a message in the city group chat about him. There are no secrets in this place, they’ll find him in a few minutes.” Rody is about to type a message on his phone, but Katsuki takes it away from him.

“Do you want to freak the shit out of him birdface… I mean Rody?!”

“Okay, that was a stupid idea.” Rody admits sheepishly. “Maybe you should go after him? You are his best friend after all.”

Instead of answer, Katsuki just gives the guy his phone back and looks at you with a worried expression.

“Keep an eye on Ei for me, make sure he only gets what he can carry to the top of the mountain. He’s also on a diet. If you see chocolate, explode it.” You can’t help but giggle at that. Whoever said Katsuki is an aggressive person is an absolute idiot. He makes his way towards the exit and looks back with a sharp gaze. “The fuck are you waiting for, foreigner, come on.”

Rody looks so surprised his jaw is about to hit the floor and you are not far away from doing the same. Wow. Just wow.

“I’m… coming?” Rody is frozen in one place, not sure if it’s safe for him to step closer or if this is a prank and he’s about to die.

“Are you?” Katsuki teases and no one gets offended this time. Phew.

“I am!”

~•🥦•~

“So what’s the plan?” Rody mutters to Katsuki, while he trails after him like a lost puppy. Katsuki can’t help but roll his eyes.

“We don’t need a plan. We find him and ask him what’s wrong. If he doesn’t answer, you leave and I’ll torture him until he does.”

Fuck, Izuku has been Katsuki’s best friend - he has two best friends, shut the fuck up - for fucking decades but this new, emotional instability is freaking the shit out of him, to be absolutely honest. He would lie if he would say Izuku hasn’t been… like this before, because he was, around the time he broke up with that shitty ass bitch, but back then, it was easy to see the reasons why he was acting the way he was while right now, Katsuki is a little bit confused.

Izuku never wavered when it came to hero work. Every time he fell on his face, he stood up and tried again. Then if he fell again, even if there was blood trailing down his forehead, he picked himself up once again and tried over and over until he got it right. Hell, the guy broke every single fucking bone in his body daily, just to be able to get better at using his quirk. Then after the war, when they were both broken down and banned from doing hero work or going back to school, he still studied, he still did his best every single day, not even worried about what the future holds for them. He never gave up, he never even thought about giving up or about the dangers of the job, he always went head first into the task and grinded until he got what he wanted.

This Izuku… is new to him. This Izuku isn’t sure about his future anymore and that’s the part Katsuki is freaking out about. He doesn’t know this Izuku. Doesn’t know that to say to him, how to ignite that flame once again and hell, Katsuki isn’t even sure what the fuck would he do if he would be in Izuku’s place right now. Obviously, none of them are in the business for the ranks anymore, that game stopped being fun once they reached the top and realized how much responsibly the title comes with. But Katsuki can understand how heartbreaking it can be to loose something you worked so hard for in a blink of an eye. Izuku is probably in shock right now, trying his best to comprehend the situation and that’s why he’s acting so strangely. He probably lost countless hours of sleep to the worry he feels every day, the worry that with him out of the picture the world will crumble, that innocent people will die if he’s not there on the battlefield and even though he has no reason to feel responsible for something he can’t control, it still eats him alive from the inside unknowingly, because that’s how Izuku is - Instead of enjoying the free time and all the love he gets from the fans, from his friends, from his family and mostly, from his girlfriend, he can’t help but dwell on the what ifs. It’s stupid, really, but Katsuki can’t lie and say he wouldn’t do the same in this situation. Even the most hard-headed person would crumble under such pressure. Hell, he would be fairing much worse, he would have burned the whole world down out of spite in Deku’s place. That guy is so fucking strong, what the fuck.

“You are muttering like Izuku.” Rody smiles at him with a knowing look on his face.

“Fuck off, I still hate you.”

“Why?”

That question made Katsuki jump out of his skin. Because honestly, why?

“Why do YOU hate me?” Katsuki retorts instead, giving himself enough time to think about his own answer.

“I don’t hate you, Bakugou, but I also can’t just let the past go.” Rody mutters. “I know I wasn’t there but… Izuku told me about how you treated him in middle school. And before you yell at me, I know you’ve changed. But the way you talk about me, the way you treat me reminds me of those stories. Reminds me of your despicable old self and I want to smack you in the face for it.”

Katsuki only gawks at the man right next to him.

“You can’t just throw that into my face, man!” He laughs, absolutely gobsmacked. “Fair play bitch, but you know jack shit about me!”

“I know, sorry.” Rody laughs back, followed by a dramatic sigh.

“Don’t be fucking sorry, it makes sense. And to answer your question I hate you because you managed to be friends with Deku in one fucking day while I couldn’t fucking get myself to say a single nice word to him but secretly wanted to be friends again. I was fucking jealous of you, you dick. You and your fucking sad background story and your cute fucking pink bird. Fuck you.”

Rody almost trips over a stone from how much he’s laughing right now. “Stop fucking laughing! It’s not funny! You traumatized me! Hugging him and shit like you knew each other for fucking ages!” He retorts but he can’t hide the smile on his face.

Katsuki sees a green blob through the window, in one of the small stores in this area. By the look of it, Izuku is hyperfocused on a box of…

“Are you fucking kidding’ me?” Katsuki mutters, his face full of incredulity.

“What… oh my god…”

It takes the two men several minutes before they can stop laughing. Then they enter the store.

~•🥦•~

“Welcome!” A lovely voice greets the green haired hero when he opens the door to the tiny cosmetic shop down the road.

Izuku is on a mission. Probably on the most important mission in his whole life and he’s been through a lot of shit.

If he messes this up, everything is over. He’s been waiting for this moment for so long and he’s at his limits; if he can’t have this one thing as soon as possible, the whole world will crumble. He’s been hyper fixating on this thing for ages. His therapist told him several times to just do it, it’s not something he’s not capable of in this state, so he has to let his ridiculously high expectations go and just let it happen naturally. He needs to stop thinking about it and just… do it. But he can’t just do it, can he? He needs to think about safety. Protection. He needs to make sure his Sweet Pea doesn’t hate this new side of him. He needs to make sure he has everything to be able to finish this mission successfully.

Hence why he entered this store. A cosmetic store/pharmacy.

Today, Izuku will purchase some… condoms.

He makes a beeline towards the sexual health isle. Then he freezes.

There are so many choices. Too many. He doesn’t understand why do people need so many. He doesn’t mean to brag but he never had to have a ribbed condom to make the other feel great. Isn’t sex all about finding out what your partner likes? What’s the point if you don’t put any work in it? It’s Izuku’s favorite part! The analyzing! Even though he feels weirdly reluctant about penetration when it comes to his sweet pea, to be absolutely honest. She’s so pure, so kind, so lovely. Izuku just want to please her without doing any damage. Not like having sex is damaging but… ahh, it’s hard to explain.

“Hello, sir, are you looking for something specific today?” The lovely customer adviser asks and that’s all Izuku needs to start muttering out all his thoughts.

“I’m here to buy some condoms but I haven’t used one in a while and there are so many options and I don’t really understand the need to have so many and I’m also terrified I’ll buy the wrong one and I’m not sure what’s trendy or what not or if it even matters, but what if it does and I choose the wrong one and what if she has one she prefers and I didn’t even ask? I should have brought her over but I wanted it to be a surprise and I didn’t want her to feel like she needs to uhm… you know… so I just wanted to have it around, just in case… I think I’m freaking out.”

Izuku knows he should be offended for being laughed at by the customer adviser but she looks so entertained he can’t tell her off for it. As we all know, Izuku likes to please.

“Well, I definitely didn’t think when I woke up today that I’ll be helping Japan’s number one hero choosing condoms but I’m glad I didn’t call in sick today.” Izuku feels mortified. He really didn’t think about his fame when he started babbling about his sexual life. He wants the earth to swallow him whole or just run out of the store but he really needs to buy at least one box today, otherwise he’ll be trapped in the mountains with the girl of his dreams for 5 days, surrounded by things that will definitely remind him of… well… that… and he can’t do that anymore.

“Well, do you know if she’s allergic to latex?”

Izuku freaks out once again.

“No, I don’t, oh my god, what do I do now?!”

“Calm down, we have latex free options so maybe take on of those just in case, this brand here is the most loved one.” The lady pops the box into his basket before he can freak out over it. “Now if it comes to the trends… I would go for something simple as you don’t know what your lady prefers yet. This one here is our bestseller, it has a texture that feels like skin, so it feels more natural. We have normal and extra large I’ll leave you to decide which one you want to go with.”

Izuku feels too awkward to actually choose so he just pops both versions into his basket.

Here’s the thing… he has no idea if it’s something that came with his inherited quirk or not but when he hit his growth spurt… his third leg grew as well. He only had one girlfriend and he tries to forget everything about her but he clearly remembers her saying that his size is uhm… respectable. He’s not sure what that exactly means so… yeah. He’s quite sure he used normal sized condoms before and while they are a little bit uncomfortable, it was okay. But maybe he just needs to try a different size.

Okay, Izuku. Focus.

“Do I need… uhm… lube?” Izuku mutters our loudly and for his surprise he doesn’t get laughed at this time; the lady looks at him, her eyes moving from his face to his legs and she… gulps. Izuku’s whole face becomes as red as a fresh strawberry from his garden.

“I don’t think so, but buy one just in case.” The lady blushes and stares out of the window, probably mortified by her own reaction.

“Why are they so many options.” Izuku whimpers as he looks at the massive selection. There are so many flavors and so many brands and… why do you even need them to be flavored…

Izuku, for the love of god, do not think about it. Do not go there. You know why they are flavored.

“I’ll… get the one that says natural. I think.” Izuku pops the lube into his basket with a blush on his face and that’s when the door opens.

“You motherfucker! We thought you are depressed!” Katsuki yells loudly, making the lady jump.

“Ahh, hi Catherine! I hope he didn’t say anything weird to you!” Rody puts his palm on the customer advisor’s shoulder.

“No, he just told me how much he loves his girlfriend, that’s all.” The lady winks and Izuku wants to disappear once again.

“Kacchan, are these okay?” Izuku shows his basket to his best friend, probably looking like a kid showing off his freshly caught beetles.

“How many times do you want to fornicate a day, Deku?” Kacchan asks the million dollar question as he looks at the three boxes in his basket.

“They are different, Kacchan. I couldn’t pick.”

“Well, first of all…” Kacchan takes the normal sized box out of his basket and puts it back on the shelf. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve changed in front of each other quite a few times you know. I’m not saying the other won’t fit but this will be more comfortable.”

“Thank you, Kacchan!” Izuku stares at his best friend with eyes full of wonder. Kacchan blushes.

“Let’s go fucker, your girlfriend is fucking worried. Also, buy something else so you can say that’s what you wondered off for, if you don’t want to tell her about the condoms.”

“You are a genius!”

Katsuki only rolls his eyes at that.

Izuku gets Sweet Pea’s favorite perfume without even thinking about it; she’s been out of it for several days now but she said it’s too expensive for her budget, so needless to say, Izuku buys three of them. He also gets some chocolate from the counter and a cute pin with the Island’s name for everyone. He puts the condoms into the secret compartment of his backpack while he puts the rest on the top.

“Your secret is safe, buddy!” Rody winks as they make their way out of the store. Izuku thanks the lady once again for all her help and she asks for a selfie. Izuku complies.

“Yeah, don’t worry, birdface and I will make sure no one bothers you two when you are in your cabin.” Katsuki grins as he pulls Izuku closer by putting his arm around his shoulders.

“Yup. We are friends now.” Rody does the same from the other side and Izuku is sure they look like three drunken blokes right now but he’s so happy he doesn’t even bother about how they look.

“We are fucking not.” Katsuki grumbles, but he doesn’t say a single word when Pino sits on his shoulder, and that says a lot.

Life is great. Life is amazing. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so happy and nothing can fuck up his perfect mood, not even the dread he feels when he thinks about the future because right now, in this moment, he is the happiest nerd in the whole world.

~•🥦•~

“Izu!” You jump into your boyfriend’s arms just as he comes into your view. Honestly, this man will be the death of you one day. “Are you okay?!”

“Sweets, I just wanted to buy something. I’m sorry if it came off like I’m running away, trust me, all I want is to be with you and my friends. I’m so excited to go up, I’ve been sitting on my bum for so long, I can’t wait to get in shape here.” Izuku giggles and you feel a sudden urge to touch his bum to make sure it’s still in shape… khm. Sorry. Nevermind.

“Yeah, Japan can’t loose it’s number one juicy ass. That would be more devastating than a world war in this day and age.” Rody adds cheekily and both of your faces blush.

“Rody, please…” Izuku mutters, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

“Okay, can you guys stop talking about my boyfriend’s ass? That ass is mine. So back off!”

You can’t believe you said that, but you felt like it would make the group laugh, so… yeah.

What you did not expect was Izuku looking at you with half lidded eyes, clearly enjoying YOUR attention; he creeps closer, his lips right by the cusps of your ear as he whispers. “I didn’t realize you like it this much.” And hell if it doesn’t go straight to your… well… uhm. There.

“Izuku. For the love of god. Behave yourself.”

“I’m so sorry, I…” Izuku starts to stutter as he comes back to his senses. “Uhm, I don’t know why I did that, I just…”

“Shut up and starts going up that hill.” You spank that famous ass three times to make him move. Izuku’s facial expression changes between “I’ll devour you right here right now” and “omg everyone is watching me I’m scared” as he leads the way towards the cabins. It’s extremely hilarious.

“Wow, that tension was something else.” Tamaki gossips with Mirio who only laughs at the comment.

“I mean, there is something extremely romantic about making love in a cabin.” Mirio admits with a sigh.

“Great, I guess this is what you get for coming to a trip as the only single person in the group.” Kyouka moans as she follows the crowd.

“You can hang out in our cabin, Kyouka!” Kaminari perks up right away, probably excited to have someone to talk to because Shinsou is clearly not in the mood for a friendly banter right now, god knows why.

“We are all going to have a grill party this evening in OUR cabin, so keep it on your pants for now.” Katsuki declares. “Ei got all the meat possible so let’s go up because it’s fucking heavy.”

“I’ve got the booze!” Kirishima grins. “It’s also heavy!” He says but he doesn’t look bothered by it at all.

“Come on guys, if I’m not the last one up there, you all suck!” Izuku yells from the top of his lungs with a massive smirk on his face. Needless to say that comment makes the whole gang perk up.

“Oh boy, I’ll be the first!” Kaminari yells back, already running ahead of the team.

“Oi, not on my watch, Pikachu!” Katsuki is the next one to start sprinting then everyone starts running like maniacs except Kyouka, who decides to stay with you, walking in a normal pace.

“He looks excited.” Kyouka smiles at you as he looks at Izuku running with Katsuki, borrowing some help from black whip when the “road” is too steep.

“I really hope he enjoys himself.” You say dreamily and Kyouka gives you a shit eating grin.

“Not unless he can see you, so move your legs, bitch, we need to catch up!” She pulls you forward aggressively, almost making you fall.

“Hey!” You laugh, but you start running anyway; with so many heroes around, you are quite sure someone will catch you if you fall.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- If you read the last chapter of my Kirishima fic you already now but if not… I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post as frequently or at all. I’m going through a tough time and it greatly affects my writing, especially this story, to be honest, so if I don’t post for a while, I’m sorry. I don’t really want to get into details for now as it would make it way too real and right now I’m trying to just ignore it and keep going, but… if it escalates, I’ll let you know. Please be patient with me. I’m doing my best. Also, if you see me post other stuff but not this one it’s probably because I have a bunch of chapters already written for everything but this one. I’m not neglecting this story I’m just… done.

- Now let’s talk about this chapter and leave the angst behind 😂

- I absolutely love this new unhinged version of Deku. He’s slowly starting to be himself and I’m so proud of him I want to cry. He’s not shy anymore, he knows what he wants and he also knows he’s loved for who he is and not for the facade he usually shows to the people around him and damn, that’s a character development!

- I hope you laughed when you realized what Izuku’s problem was. I definitely laughed my ass of while writing this chapter, especially when I was writing the beginning with the drama while knowing what the real “problem” is 😂

- Oh, also! You can support me with a “coffee” if you would like! It won’t help my mental issues but it helps me pay rent and buy more figurines for comfort so yeah. I’m just throwing this out there just in case. 😂

- Tell me your thoughts! Send me a comment! Distract me! Please and thank you! 😂

TL:

@garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 6:

Sunflower

Series Masterlist

previous part: Absdoughlutely next part: Beautifully Natured

Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, anxiety, and domestic abuse.

"Hello!" Your favorite voice bounced off the walls all throughout the quiet and empty bakery after the sound of the bells above the door chimed.

"Hey, honey! I'm in the kitchen!" You called out, a sickeningly delightful smile smeared across your face as you could hear his foot steps quickly approaching.

Since you we're facing away from the doorway, busy peeling and chopping apples on the big stainless steel countertops, you felt him before you saw him.

Steve's big arms engulfed you from behind as he peeped at what you were up to from above your head. "What's cookin' good lookin'?"

You laughed at his question before setting the big, freshly sharpened knife on the cutting board and ripping off your vinyl gloves. "Well for now it's just apples, but hopefully in an hour or two it'll be a whole tray of apple crisp bars ready to go for morning rush."

"Well it already looks delicious" He commented with a lopsided grin as you tossed the gloves into the trash for an opportunity to give him a proper hug.

You wrapped your arms around each other and lingered there for longer than an average hug, but who could blame you when he smelled so nice and held you so close and snug against his built chest. "They're just green apples, Honey"

"I love green apples" He stated as a matter of fact.

"Well today is your lucky day, because we have far too many so eat away" You released Steve from the hug and finally got to admire him.

It seemed as though every t-shirt he owned was one wrong move away from bursting at the seams, all while his legs just went on for miles and miles an-

"Soooooo, how can I help?" He asked, running his hand through his hair to pull it off his face.

"However you want" You smiled knowing that was his favorite answer.

If there was nothing blatantly obvious that needed to be done, he always found tasks that he loved to do. From organizing the cookie cutter bins by category in alphabetical order, to rearranging all the spools of ribbon on the long hanger to be in order of the color wheel, he always did it with a smile on his face.

At first you found it a little unnerving as if he felt pressured into needing to do something rather than just hang out with you, but after a few weeks of insisting, you finally understood he really did enjoy keeping busy any way he could. Anything that could occupy his hands and mind kept him one step closer to sanity.

"Ohh!" He lit up. "Can I finally fix that light in the bake case?"

He's quite literally been begging to fix it ever since he noticed one of the tiny lights in the bake case had been out. It wasn't enough for a customer to notice, nor was it a dire issue so it kept getting pushed to the back burner. It also wasn't as simple as just replacing the bulb, there were screws and wires and some weird metal pieces attached to weird plastic pieces...

"Be my guest, I know that would make you so happy"

"Just think of how beautiful your apple crisps will be in the morning under all of the lights, rather than all of the lights except for that one that's been out for weeks!"

"What would I ever do without you, Stevie?" You giggled as you snapped on a new pair of gloves to continue your apple chopping. "The bake case would be so dull... much as every passing day"

"Ugh, you're so lucky to have me." He joked with a sigh. "Screw driver?"

"Tool box is in the supply closet, very top shelf, back left corner." Your smile prevailed. "Did you lock the door?"

"Yes ma'am, and closed the blinds."

"Wow, at this point you're my best employee."

"And don't you forget it" Steve threw you a casual wink before disappearing into the lobby.

The light was an easy 15 minute fix, well, it would've been about five had he not lost a screw that took 10 minutes to find but he would never admit that. As he was finishing up, he heard what was almost a hissing sound coming from you in the kitchen, followed by clanking as if something had been dropped onto the metal countertops.

The sounds piqued Steve's concern, so he closed the case back up. But as he was walking back to the kitchen, he heard your little voice call out to him.

"Steve?" It was shaky and scared, something he had never heard from you before. Needless to say his walking pace turned into a jog, and when he made it through the doorway he saw you holding your hand in the other.

Your face was white as a ghost and your eyes were spacey, but the closer he got he noticed you were squeezing a bunched up paper towel to your hand and slowly swaying. He looked over to your apples to see a red puddle and the knife where it shouldn't be.

He recognized that glossy facial expression, he had seen it millions of times before on battlefield and training rooms. So he offered you a comforting smile as he approached to keep a hand on you. If you were about to pass out, he would be there to catch you.

"I um..." You started, but you couldn't quite get the words out without your internalized panic becoming very, very external. "Was cutting- then the knife slipped and I...caught it..."

"Are you okay?" He rubbed your arm as all his extensive first aid training from his days as an Avenger came flooding back to him.

"Bleeding" You stated, blinking your eyes as fuzzy darkness started to overtake your vision in invasive swirls. "A lot."

"Feelin' dizzy?" He questioned gently.

"Very." You nodded.

"Alright sweet girl, let's get you sitting down." He encouraged. You took one wobbly step before Steve stopped you in your tracks. There was no way you were going to make it to a chair by the will of your own two feet. "Okay I'm just going to pick you up."

You nodded in agreement and he swooped you into his arms like a rag-doll. You didn't even feel the need to hang on in case he dropped you, you just focused on keeping firm pressure on your hand as he took you to the front and set you down on a padded booth.

"Can I see it?" Steve questioned as he squat down in front of you. Once again you nodded and slowly pulled the paper towel away from your hand to reveal a nice slice right in the cushioned part of your palm beneath your thumb.

He inspected it the best he could but there was too much blood to even see what was going on beneath it, and when you curiously took a peak at your own hand, the black fuzzies invaded more of your vision.

"I think- I think I'm going to pass out." You mumbled.

Steve's eyes met yours in an instant when you admitted that, and he saw your ghostly white complexion had turned into bright pink cheeks and your head barely standing still. He pressed the paper towel back into your palm to block your injury from your eyesight.

"It's okay, lay down. Deep breaths." He reminded you, and assisted you on a slow and careful journey downwards on the booth. He reached over and grabbed a throw pillow from one of the lounge chairs and slipped it under your head. "Where's the first aid kit?"

"B-bathroom." You mumbled.

"Keep putting pressure on this, I'll be right back." He told you, guiding one of your hands to the other so you could firmly press them together.

You tried your best to stay awake even though you had to fight through the tunneled ringing in your ears and you lack of ability to see anything beyond the dizziness. However, you did hear his feet moving quickly around the store and the hand washing sink running.

Less than a minute later he was back and sitting on the floor in front of you, and setting down everything he had grabbed. You looked down to see him snapping on some gloves that barely fit his big hands, along with a whole roll of paper towels and both first aid kits. The calm expression on his face reminded you of exactly who he was, and what he did for most of the years of his life before he even met you.

"Here, take a few sips of water." He instructed you, cracking open a cold plastic bottle he took from the drink fridge. You did as you were told before placing the cold bottle against your hot cheeks as he sandwiched your injured hand between his two. "I'm going to see what I can do with what I have here, okay?"

"Do I need stitches?" You asked.

"I don't know yet, but I'll try my best to avoid that." He grinned before pulling the bloody paper towel off your hand. "Did you wash this already?"

"Ran it under water" You sucked in a breath as you felt gushes of thick warm liquid as he left it uncovered. Having not learned your lesson the first time, you looked again. "Oh my god..."

"Don't look at your hand, look at me." He advised you as he wiped away at the blood. It really wasn't stopping or slowing down at all, so he sandwiched your hand between his again and held it with firm pressure from both sides. "We're just going to hold hands for a while."

His reassuring smile as his eyes met yours made you feel like you could breathe again. "Well this is nice."

"Walk in the park" He agreed. "Does it hurt or can I squeeze harder?"

"Harder is okay" You agreed, so he did. It was just enough to feel your hand throbbing in his hold but not enough to cause more pain than you were already in.

"So, how was your day?" He questioned nonchalantly, trying to pull your mind away from your hand in attempts to calm you down. Plus he knew he needed a good amount of pressure to stay there for a little while.

"It was fine-busy." You answered shortly wanting to cut to the chase. "You're like, medically trained? You can give me stitches?"

"I'm trained enough to stop bullet wounds from bleeding out, and I've given stitches more times than I even remember." He reassured you. "But I have nothing here to work with, and I don't know enough to medically decide what kind of stitches would be best for this. If you need them, the best hands to be in will be a doctor's" He explained.

"Does it hurt?"

You worried eyes were killing him, but setting realistic expectations for what was to come seemed to be the best way you knew how to deal with your own fears, so he was happy to answer. "Another benefit of a doctor is that they'll numb you before. A few little shots around your hand and you'll barely feel a thing. It definitely doesn't hurt more than catching a falling knife."

You nodded with a gulp before an anxious, almost guilty admission slipped past your lips. "I'm really scared of the hospital. I know that probably sounds stupid to you but-"

"That's not stupid." He shook his head. "Most people only find themselves in a hospital when a bad thing happened to them or someone they loved. It's easy to be scared of a place like that."

"I'd rather you sew my hand together with a needle and thread and no pain killers then have a panic attack by myself in the emergency room." You continued to express your fears.

It was apparent to him now that the panic in your voice wasn't necessarily over the injury itself, but the thought of having to seek medical treatment. His first words without much thought would've been 'you won't be alone, I'll go with you', but you were smarter and more thoughtful than him. Stepping into a hospital with cameras around every square inch of the building and high security would be like locking himself in a cell.

You could see his wheels turning, trying desperately to find a solution to ease your mind before he let go of the pressure on your hand to check in on the cut. "It does actually seem to be slowing down a bit, but it looks pretty deep. Even if it closes on its own it's going to keep ripping open." He sighed.

You could tell he was contemplating the most morally correct option. He could do this himself and it would be fine, or he could encourage you to seek medical help and you'd have a not so fun night in the emergency room by yourself.

"Please" You pleaded, tears pooling in your lash line. "Georgia hates me, I have no family here, and I don't feel comfortable going with any of my other friends. We both know you can't step foot into a hospital."

"Can I ask what exactly you're afraid of?" Steve questioned gently, one of his hands still squeezing yours while the other rubbed up and down your arm to try and comfort you.

"I had a lot of really bad nights by myself at Greenwood medical." You started, unsure of how much you actually wanted to confess because you hated the way people looked at you when they found out. But Steve, maybe he would be different. Maybe he wouldn't look at you that way. "My ex-boyfriend he... wasn't very nice. And going there just reminds me of all of those times I was there alone because of him and I just- I can't go there."

His eyes softened, and his eyebrows tried hard to hide his inward emotion but he was still sympathetic. There was not much detail, but he got it now. He was done asking questions until you were ready to tell him more, and he was going to make sure you didn't have to step one single foot anywhere alone tonight.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He sympathized, still rubbing your arm. "I have a lot of first aid supplies at home, I think I can make it work. I have a few things we can try before I sew it up, but just in case I do have a sterile needle."

You quickly nodded, accepting his offer to play doctor for you. "I'll just clean up the kitchen really quick-"

"No" He giggled as you started sitting up. "You stay here and keep putting pressure on it , I'll clean up the kitchen then take you to my house."

"I'll be fine" you insisted, but as you fully sat up a whole new wave of dizziness hit you once more.

"Just stay here." He smiled, wrapping your hand up with lots of gauze and tying cotton wrap around it as tightly as he could. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared through the kitchen door way, leaving you to lean your head back against the wall and take in some deep breaths to calm yourself down. You could hear the fridge opening and closing, the three compartment sink running, and the contents of the sanitizer bucket being dumped out before he came back to you.

He handled you with such tenderness and care as he helped get you into the car and back to his place. You didn't really even have a chance to process the new environment you were in as he urgently rushed you up the stairs and sat you on top of the en suite bathroom counter with your hand dripping blood over the sink.

He started rummaging through the cabinet and advising you to look away once more before he snapped on a new pair of gloves and aided the best way he knew he could.

Through the whole ordeal he told you exactly what he was doing before he did it, let you squeeze his hand as he sanitized it as you both knew the stinging was going to hurt like hell, then at the very end he was just as happy as you were that a bit of super glue and some butterfly closure bandages saved you from that sterile needle he told you about.

When all was said and done, it was nearing 10pm and he could just see the emotional and physical exhaustion dripping off of you. So the second the final wrapping was secured on you hand and he knew you were on the road to a smooth recovery, he gently raised the back of it to his mouth and gave it an exaggerated kiss just to make you smile.

"All better?" He asked, your eyes opening to look at him when you felt his mustache tickle your skin.

"Thank you, Doctor Rogers" You softly smiled, not having much energy left. "Your services are greatly appreciated."

"It's easy to be a great doctor when you have a great patient" He admitted. "I'm sorry, I know that hurt. On a scale of one to ten, how much of an asshole do you think I am now?"

"Zero" Your smile stretched beyond what you thought was possible. "Far less painful than the alternative."

"Good, that's all I could've hoped for." He let go of your hand. "Are you okay?"

Though the question was played off as surface level, you knew what he was really asking. Instead of answering the question with a lie, or forcing yourself into the emotional intimacy of telling the truth, you simply stuck your arms out for a hug.

He didn't hesitate to step between your legs and let you lean forward onto him before he protectively wrapped his arms around you.

The two of you stayed there for a while, but he didn't mind one bit. He ate up every second of it considering human contact in the past year of his life was few and far in between before meeting you.

"Why do you have so much first aid?" You questioned with your chin resting on his shoulder, arms happily keeping him close.

"Nat, Wanda, Sam... they all know exactly where I am. If they need a place to hide away I just want to be prepared." He explained. "Just in case something happens."

"You're a good man, Steve." You told him confidently. Somehow, talking about your hard realities felt easier like this. Being so close yet not having to see the worried facial expressions of each other as you talk about it. "Does Tony know?"

"Yeah" his voice broke, almost as if he was whispering. "He knows Bucky is in Wakanda too. He knows I broke everyone out of the raft, and didn't do anything about it when he got the call. Even if he hates me, I think there's a part of him that understands why I had to do what I did."

"How is Bucky doing?" You questioned.

"They cured him" Steve told you. "I got to talk to him yesterday. He's doing good, but even though the winter soldier is gone he has a lot of healing to do."

"Does it make you happy when you get to talk to them?" You asked knowing how much guilt he held onto.

"It does, I get a lot of peace of mind. It seems like everyone is making the time to work on themselves. Do things they've always wanted to do but haven't gotten to yet because avenging got in the way." He explained as he relaxed into you once more.

With each honest answer, you found yourself wanting to be more honest with him too.

"How about you?"

"I'm doing better. I slept through the night last night- anxiety levels are starting to creep down. I feel like I'm starting to accept that Captain America isn't who I am anymore, and that's okay." His answer sounded genuine to you. "So, I ask you again. Are you okay?"

"I wasn't." You confessed. "For a very long time, I was in a very bad place. I thought I was doomed to a lifetime of never being able to move on from how he hurt me. But I got there, and I'm doing a lot better. It's just sometimes things happen that remind me of how bad it really was, and it makes me panic out of fear of feeling how I used to. But I'm okay now."

"Where is he now?" Steve tightened his grip on you, nestling the side of his head into yours.

“Arizona"

"Do you want me to drive to Arizona and cut off his dick?" Steve offered, earning a heavenly laugh from you.

"It's okay, all that drive time isn't worth three inches." You smiled.

He laughed right in your ear before letting out a sigh. "You're right, three inches is more embarrassing than nothing at all."

You slowly let go of him and leaned back against the mirror, though Steve didn't feel ready to stop touching you yet so his hands make their way to the sides of your thighs.

"You're so sleepy" He grinned, being unable to hide how adorable he truly thought it was.

"I've been up since 4 this morning, of course I'm sleepy." You agreed.

"I'm mad at you, by the way." He stated with a sigh, mischievously raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? What'd I do?" You questioned, hyper-aware of his warm hands squeezing your legs.

"You make me enjoy your company so much that no matter how much time we spend together it's never enough." Steve explained. "And when you leave? I miss you. Why did you do that to me?"

"M'sorry." You apologized disingenuously. "What are you going to do about it? Call the police?"

"Mhm, report you for harboring a fugitive." He joked.

"How dare you?" Your eyebrows playfully furrowed and your lips tugged upwards. "Then what would happen to my stupidity handsome fugitive? I'm pretty sure he survives off of chocolate chips and almond croissants. He'd wither away without the bakery"

"He'd have to run far, far away. Find a new bakery in a different town and cry over how lame the almond croissants are compared to yours."

"How do I keep you from dialing 911?" You asked. "How could I possibly spare you from a dull life full of mediocre pastry?"

"It's simple, just stop making me miss you so much." He shrugged.

"I think that's something you'll have to work on within yourself, sweet cheeks."

"Bucky did always say I have quite the knack for becoming far too attached to the people around me." Steve explained. "But this? This was never supposed to happen. Not when I told myself I wouldn't trust anyone until I could figure out how to absolve my criminal status."

"Well told myself I'd never let another man sneak his way into my heart, but here we are." You shrugged, cheeks warming at your own words.

"Is that what's happening?" Steve asked.

"We're either living in a cloudy bubble of naïveté, or maybe we were both supposed to end up right here, right now." You sleepily let your thoughts spew out of your mouth.

You watched the well oiled gears in his brain turn and crank until he deflated. "I really care about you."

"But?" You asked, feeling your heart sink to your stomach.

"I'm going to have to leave one day." He reminded you. "I don't want to hurt you like that."

"I know that." You nodded as you took his hand into your non injured one. "But you've been on the run for almost a year now, Steve. That's a whole year of your life that you'll never get back just because you don't know where you'll have to go or what you'll have to do next. Tell me, how much longer do you think you'll have until you leave Greenwood?"

"I don't know." He whispered, trying to understand your point.

"How long until you're forgiven?"

"I don't know."

"How long until the world needs their Steve Rogers back?"

"I don't know."

"How long has it been since we've been dancing around whatever is going on here just because time is so uncertain?" You laced your fingers with his, and his thumb nervously traced stripes into the back of your hand.

"Since the moment I saw you." He admitted, cheeks glowing pink.

"It's been a long time. A really long time. Months" You reminded him. "Whether we have a whole life time ahead of us, or only five more minutes, I'd rather spend the rest of my time with you being genuinely happy instead of dully dancing around the inevitable."

"Are you going to hate me when I go?" He questioned softly. You could see the concern smeared across his face. The fear flooded his eyes and sunk his eyebrows, he really couldn't handle one more person he loves hating him.

"Nothing could make me hate you." You denied. "I understand that this can't be forever, and that's okay. I just want it for now."

His free hand made its way up to your hair before gently pulling the strands that didn't quite make it into your ponytail away from your face and behind your ear.

Thoughts were firing out of every corner of his mind and ricocheting off every surface they could. It caused a chaotic sea of emotions, and paralyzed him with lack of words as the only outcome he could think of in this moment was closing his eyes and leaning forward hoping you'd meet him halfway.

And you did. His hand traveled along with your movements, caressing the side of your face as your soft lips met his.

The kiss was long, gentle, and sweet. Both of you couldn't remember the last time butterflies filled your stomach that didn't involve cutting it really close in hand to hand combat or just barely escaping a man that wanted to do you harm.

Most people loved to offer unsolicited advice when they learned of the situation with your ex. They all advised you, butterflies aren't some romantic feeling that was meant to sweep you off your feet, it was anxiety warning you to run.

But this, this was different. They were calm, slow flutters that made you feel so warm and relaxed that running wasn't even an option. You were more so melting into his hands like a popsicle on a hot summer day, you felt like the chunks of butter atop a crumble in the oven; slowly melting and turning a good thing even better.

When you mutually pulled away because the unfortunate human need to breathe was just too much, your foreheads and noses stayed pressed together.

"I think you're braver than me." Steve admitted, thou could hear the sadness in his voice.

"Why is that?"

"You've already accepted that this can't be forever, yet I already miss you even when you're right in front of me." His throat felt like it was closing, and his heart was slowly being ripped apart in his chest.

You kissed his lips once more, then again, and again. "I'll miss you too, but we shouldn't keep wasting such a good thing while it's right in front of us. Our time together is so precious, we have a chance right now to make the most out of it." He kissed you this time, then you continued. "Sunflowers still grow when the moon is out."

"I don't know if I would still be surviving this without you." The confessions wouldn't stop flowing passed his lips at this point. "I guess that makes you my sunflower in the dark."

"You'll make it home one day." You pulled your forehead off of his. "You'll be forgiven, you'll get your family back, and when it happens I'll still be cheering you on."

"I'll tell them all about Greenwood, and how I risked everything for a sweet little baker that catches falling knifes and hides away criminals." His sadness started to dissolve when he saw how yours never arrived.

It did, but you did a good job hiding it for the sake of his own mind.

"I'm not hiding away a criminal, I'm hiding away my best friend. Big difference."

His smile stretched impossibly wide. "They'll never believe me, by the way. All of them will make jokes about it until I find my way back to you and they see it with their own eyes."

"If that's the case, you'll need to fill me in on what kind of desserts Avengers like to eat because I'll have to win them over somehow." A yawn took over the end of your words.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Steve questioned.

You shook your head. "Don't want to miss you that much."

"Okay, then how does Cars 2 and some real cuddles this time sound?"

"Like a dream come true." You smiled before taking another opportunity to steal a kiss.

"Come on, let's get you cozy." He offered you a hand to help you off the counter.

You both changed into some cozier clothes after he found you a shirt and some sweatpants of his that might've had a fighting chance at staying on your body. It earned a good laugh when you had to roll up the waistband a few times and tie the drawstring tight, but your efforts to still look a little cute in a super soldiers clothes were diminished when his shirt swallowed you whole.

Although Steve's clothes looked much better on him, you couldn't even begin to deny how comfortable you were as you slipped into his bed in his surprisingly well decorated bedroom and found yourself wrapped up in him once more.

"Tomorrow I'll help you change the bandages on your hand and drive you to work." He exclaimed while running his fingers through your hair that was now out of its ponytail and flowing freely.

"That's some real princess treatment." You drowsily mumbled, soaking in his body heat.

"I'm pretty sure that's the bare minimum of human decency." Steve challenged.

"I told the girls that I got injured at work and that I'll be going in late." You informed. "We can sleep in."

"Good, you deserve more than 12 hours between workdays."

"Nobody in the entire world would be able to wake me up before the sun if this is what I'm falling asleep to." You smiled as your eyelids were forcing you to keep them shut.

"I'm happy to have you here" Steve kissed the top of your head.

"I'm so happy to be here." You reaffirmed. "Goodnight, honey."

"Sweet dreams, Sunflower."

Next Part: Beautifully Natured

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash

[sanccharine]

15 | child labour

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader  genre: fluff, slice of life  word count: 3.4k

warnings: description of injury, probably inaccurate, idk im not a doctor

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu.  includes: NO ONE MUHAHAHAH its a tzuyn special y'all

status: ongoing a/n: happy tzuyu day !! also happy nayeon comeback day !! and thanks to @eternallyghosting for fixing my atrocious grammar <3

masterlist | chapter 14 | chapter 16

The morning of the detention, as well as your fated talk with Chou Tzuyu, you woke up earlier than usual. Taking advantage of the rarity, you did your routine at a similar speed and headed to breakfast. The hall has never been so empty.  

Lee had picked the day where the first hour of the day would be your detention. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. Though you were grateful that you didn’t have to face your friends’ many questions and suggestions before anything. But it also meant, you were left to your devices, left to think and think and think about how to go about fixing your recent stumbling. 

Too nauseous to eat, you grabbed a muffin and made your way to the library just as the usual morning crew wandered in. Thankfully again, you didn’t catch any of your friends. 

You might have taken a detour to the library, just to stall for some time. To go over the words you wanted to say. You’d hate it if you misspoke and worsened the situation. Previously, you’d tried apologising, tried talking and she’d shut you down. Maybe this time around the pair of you would just listen. You would, you promised that to yourself. And you wouldn’t be petty. And you wouldn’t push her away. 

Simple enough? Right?

You stood at the entrance to the library. 

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion swirling in your stomach. 

In fact, you’d bet you weren’t even this distraught when the game happened. 

Clenching your fists, you pushed open the door to the library. The librarian looked at you over her glasses and clicked her tongue. You’re not a favourite, but then again, when were you?

“Professor Lee sent—”

“Detention. Head to the reference section.” Simple, the books won’t be cursed or ready to snap your fingers off. “Organisation duty.”

Don’t we have magic to do all that?

The librarian shot a glare over her glasses as if she read your mind, you just nodded and made your way. 

Sighing, you walk down the shelves, until you find the reference section. Marked off by a placard, you turned right only to walk straight into Tzuyu. With a groan, she gripped the shelf next to her while you just stumbled a step back. 

It's not surprising you’d meet like this. Not surprising at all. 

“You alright?” you asked since she was rubbing her shoulder. 

“Just fine,” she answered, short as usual. Then, she glanced at you. Her gaze shifty. “I’m fine. Are you alright?” 

“I can handle a little bump,” you chuckled, not at all disoriented. Tzuyu offered an easy smile, so you mimicked it. 

So far, simple. Easy. 

Time seemed to pause for a moment. She was still holding her shoulder as she looked at you, waiting for something. While you resorted to taking her in. You hadn’t really seen her in a while. Properly, that is. Glances during classes barely counted. And that night, that night before the game was such a strange time for the both of you. So, in a way, you were glad she didn’t look so sunken. 

There was still an air of tenseness around Tzuyu. But her hair had returned to its usual state, though for once it was completely down and her eyes had some light in them, expectant. You were grateful. Having been the first task of the day, your tie was still intact, your buttons done to the top, and your shirt still tucked. For once, you could appear in front of Tzuyu without being your usual dishevelled self.

This was good. 

“You’re here early,” she said. 

“So are you.”

Tzuyu just hummed with a twitch of her lips. Of course, her being early was not strange at all. 

You nodded, gaze shifting as you gulped. You hoped it didn’t sound as loud to her as it did to you. 

“I think we should talk,” Tzuyu let go of her shoulder and fully pushed the book in front of her onto the shelf. 

“I think so, too,” you agreed. 

“Help me?” She tilted her head to the cart and you nodded. 

Very quickly, Tzuyu explained the organisation system (which was way more complicated than it needed to be, and again, is this not what magic is for?). Considering the number of reference books you had to replace, you decided to organise them into piles on a table first. That way, you don’t have to go to separate shelves one by one, plus it allowed you to stay in one place and talk to each other. 

You handed her books from the cart and she organized them into the piles you needed.

“So how do we start this?” you asked, pointing out the code on the book. 

“I wanted to apologise,” you bit back the urge to say she didn’t have to. 

When you didn’t say anything and handed another book, she continued. “Starting from the fight, I’m sorry for hitting you with that curse. It wasn’t meant for you. Honestly… I don’t know what came over me.”

Tzuyu paused as she looked over a particularly hefty textbook. 

“It’s not often I behave so… impulsive,” she admitted, “I didn’t even think when I cast the spell.” 

She took in a wavering breath. 

“I know you know, but I want to say it again. It was me who cursed you… wandless,” Tzuyu said, naturally avoiding your gaze as she turned to place the textbook at the far end. “I don’t know what came over me, or frankly how I did it, it just happened. Actually, the first time I’ve successfully cast a wandless spell.”

“Successful is an understatement,” you joked. You fought a grin when that earned a chuckle out of Tzuyu. 

“Thanks. I don’t regret it—as in, if it hit Hyukwoo as it was supposed to, I would do it again,” Tzuyu quickly clarified as she took another book from you. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle, and it was so potent, with your hand and—”

“It's fine,” you quickly reassured her. There was no more desire to hide your left hand, even though it twitched from time to time. “I told you right? That I shattered my wrist?”

She nodded, resting slightly on a pile of books.

Well, you guess you hadn’t explicitly addressed her when you explained your injury. Plus, crucial information had been omitted. 

“During our second year, me and Yeri finally got to play as beaters together. Hyukwoo, desperately, wanted the position. So he did what he knew best and jinxed me, mid-game,” you laughed at the memory. Though at the time, you couldn’t even feel your arm. “I lost control of my broom and the bludger I was waiting for tore through it.” 

One look at Tzuyu’s horrified expression and you wanted to take your words back. 

“I’m fine, it was fine!” you shook your left hand just to let her know. She wasn’t convinced. “I mean twelve-year-olds have twig-like bones, it makes sense—”

“Don’t you have protection? Or gear or something to prevent this from happening?” Tzuyu furrowed her eyebrows, a mixture of concern and disgust threaded through them. “How can it be safe for kids that young—”

“Yes, we have protection, gloves, and guards, but,” you stepped away from the cart and pulled back your left sleeve. Using your right, you push back your left palm as far as it goes and let your index finger stop at the faint line by your wrist. “See that line, just where the palm connects to the arm,” Tzuyu nodded. “Completely unprotected, but I mean we sort of need it for mobility. I was weak, I was out of control, and in the wrong position. All that put together equals a shattered wrist.”

Tzuyu just stared at you in a daze while you explained your injury to her as easily as she explained how to cast conjuration spells. 

“Don’t know all the technical terms, plus, I think I was passed out or sedated for most of it. But Madam Yun said my muscle had torn open, hence limpness, and bones shattered to pieces,” Tzuyu pressed her fingers to her lips, physically stopping the squeak that left her lips. “She said it took her days to heal it slowly, just so the bones mended itself, but mended correctly in there. If that makes sense?”

“And you still play Quidditch?” Tzuyu asked, utterly aghast. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you. 

“Seems like it,” you smirked at her as you shook your hand to loosen it up. “But yeah, thanks to magic, it’s all good. Just—”

“Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“What?” 

“Why would you play when it's so dangerous?” 

“Because it's fun?” you answered plainly and she pulled a face. 

“Can’t be so fun, you’d risk your body over and over again,” Tzuyu scoffed, before turning back to the books. She didn’t have any new ones to add to the piles because you hadn’t handed her any. So she resorted to aligning the piles as straight as possible. “What happened to Hyukwoo, then? Why is he not expelled?”

Well, that’s a question you ask every year. But, unfortunately, you knew the reason. 

Same reason, you were still at Hogwarts too. In a way. 

“Guess what? One of his idiot friends snitched on him, terrified out of his mind when he saw how serious the injury was,” Tzuyu pinched her lips together while shaking her head, her eyes cold. You’ve never seen Tzuyu express so much… ever. That too, in such a short amount of time. “Hyukwoo hid when I was hospitalized, but then only confessed—full snot and tears— when his friend ratted on him. Yeri beat the shit out of him, broke his nose almost as bad as he broke my wrist.”

You snorted again, hoping that Tzuyu would join, instead she was turning a deadly shade of crimson. Surprisingly there was no steam bellowing out of her ears. Your laugh fell, deciding to drop any attempts at jokes altogether. 

“Both Yeri and Hyukwoo were suspended,” you admitted, a statement that sobered you. 

Once you caught wind of the disciplinary action taken against Yeri, you’d run to write a letter to your parents, not caring you weren’t supposed to leave the hospital wing. You’d begged them for almost a whole week straight to do something to prevent them from expelling Yeri altogether. 

They weren’t happy you were injured. They weren’t happy you were playing Quidditch instead of focusing on your studies. They weren’t happy you’d befriended someone like Yeri. And worst of all, that you were demanding that they’d use their name to pull strings. 

Finally, they came through. At a cost. 

Hyukwoo had planned to injure you and cast a spell on you during a game. He should’ve been expelled. 

Yeri’s retaliation, although she injured another student, did it on your behalf and didn’t use any spells. Seeing as it was her first severe misconduct, her parents should've been notified, and maybe lost her privileges. 

Instead, Hyukwoo’s parents did the most to ensure Yeri was expelled and their son got away scot-free. When that didn’t happen, it only meant your parents had done what they promised. So you had to do what you promised. 

You looked away, turning your body completely to face the cart. You needed a minute to reset. A moment away from Tzuyu’s stare. 

“But yeah,” you said, fishing out a book and checking the code. “It healed weirdly, I didn’t take as much rest as I should’ve. So even without your curse, it acts up from time to time. You don’t really have anything to apologise for on that front.” 

With that done, you turned to give her a book. Tzuyu was in a daze as she took it from you. 

“Tzuyu?” you said, voice very quiet. Though you knew she heard when her eyes snapped to you. “You’re… ?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she nodded before clearing her throat. “Where were we?”

“You were apologising?” You tried a smile and she rolled her eyes in return. That will do. 

“Right, next was the plan,” Tzuyu’s whole body sagged. “Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking— I don’t think I was thinking at all! Yeosang was so against it, I asked him to lie as soon as he fixed you. And, of course, on the way he and Wooyoung did the heavy lifting.” 

You nodded, handing her another book. 

“Honestly, it was so stupid, I panicked and just said whatever and Yeosang was kind enough that he just went with it,” she sighed and corrected a pile. “Seems Lee is like that, too.”

“Yeah, I don't know how you thought lying to Lee would work.”

“I wasn’t thinking, I told you,” you just laughed at her admission. 

You hummed when Tzuyu paused. When she didn’t say anything more you decided to ask the question. 

“Why did you protect me?” 

Tzuyu looked up at you. Like a deer caught in a trap. 

“I, um, I didn’t know what else to do,” she confessed. “There was no other option. No other right option.” 

Then she nodded to herself before looking at you again. A steeliness in her gaze. 

“Like I said, I don't regret it, not any of it,” she said. “I’m only sorry how I treated you after. Even if I did want to lie for you, it was not something I make a habit of, I was questioning myself and then lashed out at you.” 

“Yeah, no, I get it. I’m sorry for how I behaved too,” it was your turn to do some admitting. “I try—I try so hard to look perfect around you. I don’t know why I do it, I just do. Even though I know that you know who I am or how many fights I’ve been in, or how I sleep in class or don't tuck in my shirt or whatever. For some reason, it bothers me. What you think of me bothers me. I care so much about it—and I don’t know, after weeks of some normalcy, that fight shattered everything. There was blood on my hands, literally—”

“I’ve seen you fight before.”

“What?” 

“Y/N, every student has seen you punch someone at least once in their school year, I’m no different,” Tzuyu said, wearing an almost maternal smile. 

“No, yeah, I know. I know that,” you mumbled the last bit of the sentence, “it just bothers me is all.”  

“Hmm?” Tzuyu tilted her chin up in question, but you just shook your head. For a moment, she narrowed her eyes, hoping you’d expand. When you didn’t, she spoke again. “For what it's worth, I admire your courage. I mean I can’t say I approve of the method, literally,” Tzuyu paused to point at her prefect badge. “But I am yet to see you fight for the wrong matter.” 

When you just stared at her, Tzuyu cleared her throat. 

“That’s all,” she said, returning to her piles. 

“Was it you?” 

Tzuyu was forced to look up at you again. Her mouth twitching to ask the question innocently, even though she knew what you were talking about.

“The cushioning spell,” you clarified. 

“It would seem so,” Tzuyu cleared her throat again and walked over to a nearby shelf with a book. 

“Thank you,” you said, as genuinely as you could. Tzuyu only mumbled back her acknowledgement. 

After that, the pair of you got into a comfortable silence. 

What had you been so worried about? 

Your conversation with Tzuyu couldn’t have gone smoother. She said her part, you said yours, neither of you had anything to apologize for, nothing of substance. Yet both of you had agonized over it the last week or so. You, so much so, your hand had begun quivering the moment you started thinking about her. How ridiculous, you thought as you raised your left arm to shelve away another book. 

Besides, what had been there to worry about? 

You felt so stupid. 

“I feel kind of stupid,” you startled when Tzuyu sidled up to you, placing another book on a shelf above yours. “I feel like we were worried about nothing, thinking back on it.” 

“Game season,” you added, “tensions were high… we were stuck in our heads.” 

You paused to think about the same string of words your friends repeated to you, over and over and over again. 

“It happens,” you concluded and she chuckled. 

“Yeah, I guess it does.” 

Your detention had gone past much faster than an hour-long lesson would. So quick, you sort of missed the atmosphere. Just you and Tzuyu at the library, alone (well, with enough imagination that is), shelving books side by side in silence. Time seemed frozen and it was comfortable. As you grabbed your bags and stepped outside the library, the sounds of rushing students filtered and you had to bite back the disappointment. You had to head back to class when you only longed for more time with Tzuyu. 

“Excited for Transfiguration?” Tzuyu asked, her voice pitched up with mischief. “You just look so… zealous.”

You raised an eyebrow while she tried to tamp back her growing smile. 

“How do I actually look?” you asked, a smile of your own growing. 

“Like you're going to throw up,” she straightened, looking forward. 

“That seems more accurate,” you said, taking a glance at Tzuyu’s profile. She was still trying to reign in her smile. But when someone pointed at the pair of you, she acted as if she were brushing at her nose, and quickly her smile disappeared. Her and her carefully orchestrated mask. You decided to toy with her, to crack through it, you deserved such joy. Even if it came at your expense. “Now that I think about it, I am excited for Transfiguration.”

Tzuyu hummed her question, her head tilting subtly as her eyes never wavered from the parting crowd ahead of you. Should you do it here?

“Well, I’ll finally get to talk to you again,” her eyes narrowed as she turned to you in the slightest. “I missed you.” 

Something like a squeak escaped Tzuyu’s lips and in an instant, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted around, measuring and calculating. But even if she showed no overt sign, the rising rouge blush was a marker for the effect your words had on her. 

Good.

You pressed a palm to your cheek, you were burning up too. You figured as much. 

“Yeosang not a good teacher?” Tzuyu tilted her head up, her eyes glimmering. You had to admit, she was good. 

“Pales in comparison to you,” you said and grinned when you saw Tzuyu struggle to not grin back. “But who wouldn’t?”

“That’s enough of your flattery,” she huffed, picking up her pace. “It won’t get you anywhere. Don’t try it.”

“I’m not trying anything.” Why were you smiling so much? You should stop, your cheeks hurt.

Even with whatever game you and Tzuyu were playing, you didn’t miss the way people murmured around you. A singular glance behind your back showed most turning away and shushing their friends. Shouldn’t they be in class?

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Tzuyu. 

She had stopped at the entrance to Lee’s class. She was waiting for you. Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag, twisting and untwisting. You quickened your pace to meet her there. 

“Speaking of Transfiguration,” she glanced at the door just as you stopped in front of her. “I have something for you.” 

She opened her book bag and rummaged through it, before pulling out a textbook. 

Your textbook, soiled and tarnished, but it was your Transfiguration textbook. 

“I found it on the grass later that day,” she handed it to you. “Cleaned it up and had to let it dry. Would’ve returned it to you earlier but we…”

“Weren’t being mature.”

“I was going to say we weren’t on speaking terms,” she chuckled as you took the book from her. You flipped through the pages. Yes, some were dirtied but Eunbi’s notes still remained, only slightly muddled, though with her handwriting it didn’t really change too much. “But that works too.” 

Closing the book, you looked at her. “Thanks.”

Tzuyu looked at you, somewhat unsure. Then her glance shifted down the corridor, her eyes steely as the last of the juniors rushed away. Even though she was doing her job, you noted for what it was. A minute distraction from you. 

Then it clicked in your head. 

The library. The silence. The longing. 

The answer couldn’t have been more clear. 

“Tzuyu.”

For the first time, you reached out. First. 

“Teach me,” you said, “be my tutor.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: call me hamilton the way im writing these chapters non-stop ! would you believe me if i said i wrote 13, 14 and 15 back to back within like 4 days ? i certainly wouldn't believe me :P anygays have a good day/night everyone !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @tatliegilim @nanabongos @pandafuriosa60 @eternallyghosting

send an ask to be added !

[hoonieswhore]

VII. Middle of the night

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Written chapter under the cut! CONTAINS SMUT, MDNI. Word count: 3,5k.

Warnings: SMUT. Intoxicated sex. Rough sex. Unprotected sex (Don't do it irl). Petnames (Doll, sweetheart, pretty girl, slut, whore, good girl). Oral sex (f and m receiving). Fingering. Degradation. Overstimulation. Biting. Marking. Breeding. Cum eating. Riding. Praising. Spitting. Dacryphilia. Reader calls Hoon a perv and bastard. Soft sex. (I think that's all)

Taglist: @donghoonie-3 @venusssmoon @moonlighthoon (if you want to be added, send an ask<3)

After 15 minutes, Jay dropped you off at your building, Heeseung was better after taking a nap in Jay's car. The three of you walked into the apartment and you saw a sleepy Heeseung going to his bedroom after a quiet 'good night', leaving you alone with Sunghoon.

“Can you give me some water?” Sunghoon asked you, you only replied with a light nod. He followed you to the kitchen and saw how you struggled to get a glass from the top shelf.

The black haired boy walked towards you and stopped behind your smaller frame as he lifted his arm to get the glass, but Sunghoon was so tipsy that he didn't even notice how his other hand found a comfortable place on your waist and the way his hips were stopped by your ass. Both of you were frozen as your faces started getting red, you could feel the boy's dick getting harder against your ass and you weren't doing anything to push him away, in fact you felt proud for giving him a boner.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your veins or the way you both missed each other's body but everything happened so quickly. In less than a second, Sunghoon turned you around and cupped your cheeks, crashing his lips against yours to kiss you passionately. You kissed him back, just as eager as him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking your hands to the boy's hair and playing with it.

Sunghoon let his hands roam around your body as you slid one of your hands down to feel the boy's abs until you reached his bulge, starting to palm his clothed member. Sunghoon groaned into your mouth and bit your lip as he took his hands straight to your ass, making you moan. He took advantage of it and slid his tongue into your mouth as he started to grind onto your hand while shamelessly groping your ass.

You tugged on his hair as your tongue fought with his, trying to dominate the kiss. Sunghoon parted your legs with his knee as his hands pulled you closer to him, making you grind against his thigh.

The kitchen was filled with lewd sounds as you made out, grinding on eachother's body and getting more desperate as the minutes passed. You pulled away from him, watching the taller boy following your lips as he tried to continue the kiss. “Sunghoon, wait” you mumbled, trying to catch your breath as he kept moving his thigh against your core.

Sunghoon pressed his forehead against yours, his lips were plump and red from the kisses and his eyes were lustful as he stared at you. “What is it, doll?” his voice was a few tones lower and he stopped his motions, still keeping his thigh against you. “We can stop if you don't want this, doll.” He took one of his hands to your chin as his thumb caressed your cheek softly before making its way to your bottom lip, slightly parting your lips as he waited for an answer.

'Fuck it' you thought, looking straight into his eyes as you kitten licked his thumb. Sunghoon smirked as he felt his dick twitching from the hot sight in front of him before biting down on his own lip as he saw you taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. “Such a good doll..” he mumbled, shifting his hand from your ass to the front of your shorts, unzipping them and sliding his hand into your panties without breaking eye contact.

He let out a light chuckle as he felt how wet you were, “Aw, who made you this wet, huh? You keep talking shit about me but your cunt is so fucking wet for me.” He teasingly rubbed your clit, making you moan around his finger as you sucked on it faster. “You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he leaned to whisper in your ear, “but you'll look even better sucking my dick.” Sunghoon started kissing your neck, leaving small bites from time to time as he pushed one of his digits inside you. You pulled away from his thumb, whining from the stretch as you started to ride his finger, wanting more.

“Hoonie please,” you whispered in his ear, making him pull away from your neck. “What was that, baby?” he asked teasingly and pecked your lips, “look at you, sweetheart, I just started but you're already enjoying this so much,” He said, sliding another finger inside you and making you moan louder. Sunghoon knew how to work wonders with his fingers.

“My precious slut,” he smirked as he felt you clenching around his digits, “you love it when I call you that, don't you babe? Bet you missed it." He thrusted his fingers faster, sliding his free hand under your top and kneading the soft flesh of your boobs as you kept moaning for him. “Shut up,” you replied, shutting your eyes as you felt your orgasm getting closer. Sunghoon was good but you also couldn't remember when was the last time that someone made you feel so good.

Even though he loved your moans, he wasn't going to let you cum yet, he wanted to take his time with you so he stopped his movements, pulling his fingers out of you. “Fucking bastard, I was so close, why did you stop?” you complained, ready to keep insulting him, which made him kiss you again to shut you up.

“Well, you've been pretty mean with me the last few days, acting like a bitch with me..” he said, looking at his fingers covered in your essence and taking two steps back before licking them clean. “If you really want to cum, you have to make it up to me first, slut.” He gave you a cocky smirk as you gulped, feeling slightly mad at him but still wet because of the prominent bulge in his pants and because you liked it when he called you all those names.

You sighed and grabbed his hand, taking him to your bedroom and locking the door behind you. “Sit on the bed,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks getting red. “What? I didn't quite hear you, doll,” Sunghoon teased you again, loving the way you suddenly seemed shy around him, “you weren't so shy when you were moaning like a slut two minutes ago.” You rolled your eyes and pushed him on the bed, straddling him as he placed his hands on your hips again before slapping your ass, earning a moan from you.

“Will you apologize for being such a bitch?” he deadpanned, caressing your ass. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, Sunghoon.” you replied, taking your hands down to unzip his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

Sunghoon's cock was quite pretty, his tip was pink and it had a good length and girth but it looked extra good when it was leaking precum. You licked your lips hungrily as you wrapped your hand around his cock, starting to jerk him off just the way he liked it. Sunghoon let out a few groans as your tiny hand moved up and down on his cock. “I know you want to taste it, you're almost drooling” he smirked proudly, “go on slut, suck me off.” He ordered and you complied, kneeling down in front of him. You started to lick his tip, taking your time to tease him.

Sunghoon moaned, running his fingers through your hair as he looked down, locking eyes with you as you took his cock in your mouth. “Such a good slut, taking my cock so well..” he praised, “but I know you can take more than that, whore.” He winked at you, pushing your head down as you set your hands on his thighs, trying your best not to choke on his cock. Sunghoon grunted as he saw you hollowing your cheeks, still sucking him off. “Fuck, that feels so good, doll,” you moaned around his cock, sending shivers to his length and making him moan louder.

Sunghoon bucked his hips up, fucking your mouth and biting his lip, trying not to moan too loud since he didn't want to wake his friend up with his sounds. You pulled away from his cock, taking a deep breath as you jerked him off again. “You taste so good, Hoonie~” you said sweetly before spitting on his cock, spreading your spit all over his shaft with your hand as you pumped his cock faster.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon, babe,” Sunghoon was very close, his cock was leaking and his precum was getting mixed with your spit. You took his whole length in your mouth and bobbed your head again. Sunghoon cursed as he came down your throat, “You better swallow all of it, slut,” he groaned as he kept thrusting into your mouth through his orgasm. You kept sucking him off until his cock was clean, Sunghoon's moans were music to your ears and they were turning you on again. You pulled away from his cock and smiled at him, sticking your tongue out to show him that you swallowed all of his seed.

He took your hand and made you stand up between his legs, he pulled your shorts down along with your panties before taking off your top. He got up and took his shirt off before pushing you down on the bed. Sunghoon hovered over you and kissed you again as his hands went up and down on your body. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, grinding against his cock as he started to get hard again. Sunghoon took his hand down, reaching his cock and pumping it until it was fully hard. He pressed his tip against your clit teasingly, making you moan into the kiss.

The model pulled away and left a trail of kisses and hickeys on your neck and collarbones until he reached your boobs. The boy took one of your tits in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and leaving some hickeys on the soft flesh. “Hoon, fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, taking your hands to his hair, pulling him as close as you could. Sunghoon was a big fan of tits, he got lost into your boobs, giving attention to both of them as his cock twitched against your clit. He teased your folds with his tip as he looked up at you, pulling away from your boobs.

“Can I?” he asked, kissing your lips one more time. “Just put it in,” you desperately nodded “Hoonie please, I need it so bad,” you whined. Sunghoon smirked and kissed your lips again, “Just because you asked nicely, angel,” he replied, slowly pushing his cock inside you.

The boy was as desperate as you but he didn't want to hurt you, especially after seeing the tears in your eyes from the pain of the stretch. You felt Sunghoon's cock stretching you out deliciously but it still hurt a bit since he was pretty big. Sunghoon gave you some time to get used to his size, kissing your tears away and praising you for taking him so well.

“Hoonie, please move,” you whispered against his lips, “I need you so bad.” Sunghoon started to thrust in a slow pace, he wanted to make sure that you were ready before he fucked you as hard as he wanted. “Hoon please, I can take it,” you rolled your hips against him, making him moan.

Sunghoon's thrust became a bit faster but he was still worried about hurting you until you started to fuck yourself on his cock as fast as you could. “Oh fuck! So good-” you moaned as you felt his cock hitting the right spots, Sunghoon shook his head, letting out a small chuckle mixed with a moan. The boy grabbed your hips and pushed you down against the mattress as he started to pound into you as hard as he could, making you moan even louder.

“Such a slut, you couldn't even wait two seconds,” he groaned as he kept hitting the right places. “I've been waiting too long, idiot,” you replied between moans, earning a harsh and deep thrust from Sunghoon. “Apologize right now or you won't cum tonight,” he warned, without slowing down since he certainly didn't want to stop.

“So that'll be your excuse if you can't make me cum?” You teased him, trying to get on his nerves but you only received a laugh and a hard thrust that made you whine. “Please, we both know I can make you cum pretty quick, doll,” he slowed down, rolling his hips annoyingly slowly but hitting a deeper spot that made you see stars. “Oh fuck-,” you cursed, digging your nails into the skin of his back, “do that again please.” Sunghoon chuckled but still complied.

“Now apologize, doll,” he repeated, hitting the same spot but this time he thrusted harder. “I-i'm sorry, Hoon,” you said between moans, feeling his cock twitching inside you. “Good slut~” he mumbled, ”fuck, why are you so tight?” He whispered as he felt your walls clenching his cock, a clear sign that you were close.

The room was filled with moans and groans and the clapping sound of your bodies as Sunghoon kept pounding into you like a mad man, his thrusts getting sloppier as he got close to his release but he waited until you came all over his cock.

Sunghoon kissed you, muffling your moans as he painted your walls with his white ropes of cum. He broke the kiss, pulling out of you and kissing down your body until he reached your core. He looked up at you and smirked before going down on you, lapping at your cunt and swallowing the mix of your juices and his own cum, making you cry from the overstimulation as he moaned against your cunt. His nose teasing your clit as he kept eating you out like a starved man until you were cumming again on his mouth. You shut your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Sunghoon laid next to you, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you into a hug.

“That was so good,” Sunghoon mumbled, tracing invisible patterns on your back with his finger as you cuddled. “Yeah.. Pretty bad that it was with you,” you joked and Sunghoon slapped your ass. “Sunghoon!” you whined and hit his chest playfully. “What? That made you moan a few minutes ago,” he teased and rubbed the place he just hit, “better?” He asked, kissing your cheek. “I'm not sure, try something different,” the figure skater smirked, taking one of his hands to your chin and pulling you closer, kissing your lips softly. You kissed him back, tilting your head and deepening the kiss as you played with his hair.

The soft and innocent kiss turned into a steamy makeout session as you weren't able to keep your hands away from each other. This time, Sunghoon pulled you on top of him, making you sit right on his boner as he kept his hands on your waist. You pulled away from him, kissing down his neck and returning the marks that he gave you, enjoying the pretty sounds that he let out. You kissed him again as you took his cock, aligning it with your entrance before sinking down on his length.

The new position made you feel his cock way deeper inside you as you bounced on him at a steady pace. You kept your hands on his shoulders as he hugged your waist, pulling you close to his body as he left kisses all over your boobs. You picked up your pace, making him moan louder as his cock twitched inside you. “Doll, you feel so good,” he looked up at you, completely fucked out, “I'm getting close.”

You faked a pout and rolled your hips slowly, making him whine. “I just started and you're already so fucked out, pretty boy,” you teased him. Sunghoon smirked at you, placing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it teasingly, making you clench around his dick. “You shouldn't tease me like that baby girl,” he bucked his hips up, fucking you nice and deep as you held onto his biceps.

“Look at you doll~ going all dumb on my cock.” He loved to see you turning into a moaning mess as he kept thrusting into you and rubbing your clit faster until you were crying again from the pleasure. “You look so fucking cute when you cry, doll,” he praised, “such a good girl for me~”

You felt your orgasm approaching as your walls clenched around his cock, cumming all over his shaft as he kept pounding into you, trying to reach his high. “S-Sunghoon, t-too much,” you whined, slightly scratching his biceps. “It's okay baby, I know you can take it, just wait a little more.” Sunghoon groaned. “Come on baby girl, I'm almost there,” the boy's thrust became sloppier as he kept hitting your sweet spot.

You were crying from the overstimulation as he reached his high, letting out a loud moan as he came inside you. Your walls clenching around him and milking his cock as he emptied his balls, filling you up with his cum. You rested your head on the boy's shoulder as he hugged you tightly. “You did so well, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear and kissed your cheek softly as he rubbed your back.

“Are you okay, doll? Did I hurt you? Do you want me to get you anything?” he worriedly asked. You shook your head as you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter. “Did I fuck you too good?” he asked teasingly. “You just ruined the cute moment, dumbass,” you replied and laughed softly. “At least I made you laugh, pretty girl,” he smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss on your hair, “do I win some points for making you laugh?”

You looked up at him, getting lost in his starry eyes for a bit before sighing. “You'll need more than sex, praises and jokes to make me forgive you, Hoon.” The boy's smile faded a bit before he nodded, “I know you still hate me but can we ignore that now?” Sunghoon nuzzled your cheek before kissing it gently. “Just for the rest of the night, doll.” You nodded at his words and pecked his lips before smiling at him. “Yeah.. I'm sorry for ignoring you though, that was pretty immature..” Sunghoon took his hands to your hips as he smiled again, he felt happy since you were talking to him without calling him an asshole.

“It's fine, I understand..” he pecked your lips again as he rubbed circles on your hips with his thumb. “Also, we should get cleaned up cause I swear, your pussy feels so good that I might get hard again,” he confessed, feeling the heat traveling to his cheeks. “Sure! Let me just..” you started, lifting your hips up and pulling his cock out of you, Sunghoon felt like he was about to get hard again as soon as he saw his cum dripping out of your hole and falling on the bed sheets, making a mess.

“YN, if you wanted me to fuck you again, you could just say it.” He said, earning a light punch on his bare chest. “You're such a perv,” you rolled your eyes, trying to get up but quickly sitting on the bed. “Shit.. Hoon, I'm gonna need your help..” you shyly confessed, the boy got up quickly and carried you in his strong arms. Sunghoon took care of you, helping you to shower and even changing your bed sheets since the other ones were coated with a mix of your cum and his. He was so attentive that you couldn't believe it was the same boy that you knew.

When you both were finally ready for bed, Sunghoon made his way to the door, then he turned around and looked at you. “Good night, yn.” You called his name, making him stop again, “You can spend the night here.. just if you want..” Sunghoon bit his lip, trying not to smile as he fixed his hair, something that he only did when he was nervous. “Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I can sleep on the couch!” Sunghoon secretly wanted you to say yes, not only because he was too tired but because he also wanted to sleep with you. You rolled your eyes, making room for him next to you and patting the mattress. “Come on, if I was really uncomfortable, you wouldn't be living here.” He nodded, getting in the bed next to you.

“So you're not uncomfortable around me, yn?” He laid down on his side, looking at you. “No, it's fine,” you whispered and covered your mouth with your hand as you yawned. “Good night Hoon,” you kissed his cheek and turned around, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts as you fell asleep.

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 15)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I move my character through the virtual landscape of Flower Forest, interacting with the townsfolk and continuing toward my goal of beautifying the town. This is of course on top of my other goals, like paying off my mortgage to the village's local snooty businessman Mr. Buck, and running my own little flower shop. I'm glad I have free time this weekend to play on my FlexPad, but shouldn't I be doing something a little more productive?

As I lay on my bed, immersed in the wonders of virtual gardening, an open box in the corner of my room catches my eye. It's the only box I haven't completely sorted through from the move, since it's full of things I don't exactly have a place for yet. I heave a sigh. I should at least try to get settled in before the end of Carmen.

I stand up with a stretch, setting down my FlexPad and walking towards the box. I peer inside to see a mess of contents ranging from junk drawer material to family keepsakes. I pull out a long, heavy metal object and examine it. It's a silver bowling trophy I won some time in stage 3. I got second place in an all-girls competition with a score of 116. Not that impressive, but a fun memory. Plus it's probably the only trophy I've ever won. I look around the room for a place to put it and decide the shelf beside my bed will do. I place the silver bowling pin beside a picture of Dad and me.

Returning to the box, I reach in and pull out a small, smooth object. It's a rock with a silly face drawn on in marker. 'Rocky' was his name, I believe. When I was little and wanted a pet, Dad made this thing for me to take care of since pets aren't allowed in the undercity. I was supposed to 'feed' it every day, 'play' with it, and do all the things you're supposed to do to care for an animal. Shockingly, playing with a rock turned out to be a bore, so I stopped taking care of Rocky. I have no use for this thing, but since Dad made it, I can't bring myself to throw it away. Especially not with that goofy expression it's making. Into my desk drawer it goes, I guess.

I continue going through the box like this, pulling out knick-knacks and heirlooms alike, finding places in my room for some things, and throwing out others until I've nearly reached the bottom of the box. One of the few items remaining is a cream-colored journal with blue morning glories adorning its glossy cover. It's bursting at the seams with papers and paper clippings, and is held together by a burgundy ribbon. I sigh. I remember when Dad first showed me this thing.

It was a few days before the move, and we were trying to get rid of as many things as possible so we wouldn't have to move so much. That proved a bit difficult, however, seeing as my dad had lived in that apartment in Maedri since before I was even born. Needless to say, he had a lot of stuff. The day came when we managed to clear out most of his unwanted and unneeded things, and all that remained was an unassuming box in the back of his closet with no label. It was a decent-sized box, but not too heavy. It wasn't closed all the way, and the top was covered in dust. I had asked about the box in the past, but Dad seemed to want to avoid it for whatever reason. That day, I would find out why.

Dad set the box down on the floor and sat down beside me with a sigh. He eyed the box for a moment before flipping open the cover and sending dust everywhere, which resulted in the two of us suffering through a coughing fit. Once we recovered, Dad reached into the box and pulled out a long, blue article of clothing, explaining that it was my mom's favorite cardigan. To my surprise, I still have a few vague memories of her wearing it.

Dad pulled out a few other things, all belonging to my mom. There was a scarf, some old art supplies, a poetry book, an indoor planter I decided I would keep, a few novels, and a flute to name a few. But what really caught my attention was a journal with flowers on it. I've always loved nature, and I know my mom did too, so I wondered what was inside. Upon retrieving the journal from the box, Dad looked it over for a moment. He had a smile on his face, but I could see him getting misty-eyed.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the book.

"This was your mom's art journal," Dad said. "This book contains nearly every drawing she made since before we were even together."

Dad flipped through the journal. Mom had doodled little flowers on napkins, and drawn elaborate portraits on scrap paper.

Dad handed me the journal. "I think your Mom would want you to have this," he said.

I took the book and turned the pages in awe. One page in particular was a watercolor piece, depicting a girl I could only assume was my mom with some enormous bluebells dangling above her. She looked up at them with wonder filling her eyes. I looked at the painting with the same wonder. How did she learn to draw flowers with such detail?

I turned a few more pages and was shocked at what I saw next. My mother painted herself, again in watercolor, dancing in the palm of a perthean's hand! One masculine hand held the twirling figure, while another held her hand from above, as if they were dancing together. I slammed the book shut.

I haven't opened the journal since then, although now I'm a bit curious as to what else is inside. I guess I'll leave it on my desk.

That leaves the planter. It's still a bit dusty, but it's nothing a damp cloth can't fix. I gaze at the planter's plug, its cord yellowed and worn with age. Could this thing really still work? I guess there's only one way to find out. I set the planter on my desk, and after a moment's hesitation, fit the plug into an outlet on the wall. There's a spark, which causes me to flinch back and let out a yelp, but to my surprise the light on the planter somehow manages to flicker to life when I press the power button.

I turn my eyes to a shopping tote beside my desk. My hand feels around the inside of the canvas bag until it finds and pulls out a small white envelope with a picture of my mom's favorite flower on it. I give the packet a gentle shake and listen as tiny pansy seeds rattle around inside. Sounds like there's more than enough to fill the planter. I feel around the inside of the tote again, absentmindedly nudging a receipt out of the way, and find a sturdy bag at the bottom. I lift the bag, which is rather heavy for its size, out of the tote and set it down on my desk with a small thud. I've never worked with soil before, and the only gardening I've ever done has been virtual. Since the planter is old, it doesn't have instructions with it anymore, but I'm sure I can figure out what to do. How hard can it be to fill pods with dirt, bury seeds, water them, and turn a light on? And after all, my mom definitely had a green thumb, so hopefully I inherited some gardening skills from her.

Upon tearing open the bag, the earthy scent of potting soil invades my nostrils. It has a note of sweetness to it, which I find strange. I'm reminded of the smell of moist dirt when it rains above ground. I carefully tip the bag over one of the empty pods on the planter until a steady stream of soil spills out. I must have tipped the bag a bit too far, though, since nearly half the contents spill out all over the planter, the desk, and my lap. I let out a sigh. I guess I'll have to vacuum. I try to collect the soil from my lap in my hands, but most of it manages to slip between my legs and onto the floor. Looking down at my last pair of good jeans, they're covered in dirt stains. I should probably wash them, along with the rest of the clothes I've been procrastinating on washing.

I look back at the dusty planter, covered in dirt. This definitely isn't going like I hoped. I wonder what my mom would say about my failed attempt at gardening. Maybe I should leave the gardening to Flower Forest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sit hunched over on the bench in the apartment's communal laundry room, my head down and my eyes fixed on my FlexPad. Flower Forest makes gardening seem so easy. How did I manage to mess things up so badly on my own?

The sound of another washing machine starting up catches my attention, and I look up to see a boy around my age nervously scanning the room for a free place to sit among everyone else doing their laundry this weekend. His green eyes and short black hair are familiar to me. I could almost swear I've seen him somewhere before. He pushes up his glasses as his gaze lands on me. His eyes widen, and he quickly looks away. I avert my gaze as my cheeks redden. I didn't mean to stare!

The boy finds a seat on the bench a few yards away from me when someone else leaves with their laundry basket. I try to focus on my game, but my mind keeps coming back to this boy. Really, where have I seen him before? Could I know him from school? Or have I just seen him around the apartment complex?

A pleasant melody ringing out alerts me that the dryer I'm using has completed its cycle. I set my FlexPad down beside me on the bench and stand with my basket to gather and fold my laundry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Back so soon?" Dad asks when I close the door to our apartment behind me, not looking away from his laptop.

"I guess I got in early enough that there was a free washer," I say, adjusting my grip on the basket under my arm so it doesn't slip. "Are you... working? On a Restday?"

"Yeah," Dad sighs, "I told a client I'd have this ad ready by Firsday, and it's still not done."

"Yikes. Well, don't overwork yourself," I say, turning to my room.

Bing-bong!

"Could you get that?" Dad asks.

Anxiety swells in my gut as I set my laundry basket down and turn back to the door. We aren't expecting anyone, and we didn't order anything that I know of, so I'm a little nervous as I peer through the peephole in the door to see who's standing outside of the apartment. To my surprise, it's the boy I saw in the laundry room! Blood rushes to my face. What's he doing here? I take a deep breath and hold it in before opening the door.

"H-hello?" I ask.

"Hi," the boy answers, his voice deeper and sharper in tone than I expected. He looks around the outside of the apartment, avoiding eye contact with me. "Is... this yours?" he asks begrudgingly as he holds out a FlexPad covered in familiar stickers of Catmium from Stranded and Mr. Buck from Flower Forest.

I stand there speechless, taking the FlexPad in my hands. "Yes! How did you—"

"You left it in the laundry room," the boy says before I can finish my sentence. "Just be more careful next time, alright?"

With that, the boy turns and speeds down the hall.

"Wait!" I call out. "Don't we know each other from somewhere? Maybe school?"

The boy flinches, stopping in his tracks. He turns his head back toward me only slightly. "I don't know," he says, his voice softer now, and nearly cracking. He clears his throat. "I don't know, maybe."

"Well, thanks for bringing my FlexPad back, um...?" I trail off, expecting the boy to give me his name.

He looks down and sighs. "Sam," he finally says, his tone a little softer than before.

"Thanks, Sam," I say. "I didn't even notice it had gone missing—"

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Sam bolting down the hall away from me.

"Hey!" I call out again. "Where are you going?!"

As Sam disappears around the corner, I contemplate the bizarre encounter that just took place. Just who is this guy? And what's his problem?

"Was that a friend from school?" Dad asks as I reenter the apartment.

"Honestly?" I chuckle in disbelief. "I have no idea."

[lnfours]

Cutest blurb🥺

How about Tom made a handmade gift to Y/n like a scrapbook or a jar something like that and Y/n is like 🥺🥺🫶💓💖💖💞🥹

anon, this is so cute 🥺 sorry i'm just now getting to writing your request, i hope you like it!

cleaning out my inbox 💌

tom wasn't the crafty type. everyone who attended the failed paint and wine knew this. he was terrible at art, couldn't even draw a stick figure if he tried.

and beings you were the crafty type, ever since then he was determined to make you something special and 'cute'. he wanted to give you a gift that wasn't store-bought, he wanted something special to give you. something that came from the bottom of his heart.

so he thought of a brilliant idea, a scrapbook.

he had asked his mom for a few pointers beings she had made baby books for him and his brothers when they were younger. she had given him all the tips and tricks he could think of.

he even took notes.

when his mom said that it'd be nice to include things from dates the two of you had went on, his mind immediately went to the keepsake box that you had at the top of your side of the closet, the one where you kept all the photo-booth strips, restaurant receipts, movie and event tickets, everything you could possibly ever think of.

and of course he had asked you if it was okay if he went through the box, wanting to get your approval on what to take and what not to take. you were a little confused as to what he was planning.

"just go through the box and pick," you smiled, "but, can i ask why?"

he grabbed the box from the top shelf before humming back at you as you laid on the bed, "mmm, no reason. just wanna look through. maybe it'd be cute if we put together a collage and hung it up in a picture frame or something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, thankful he couldn't see your confused expression, "yeah, sounds good, babe."

and for the next few nights when you'd wander up to bed to read a few chapters of your book before falling asleep, he'd stay downstairs. in the dimly lit dining room, rummaging through the tickets and photos, picking out how he wanted each page to look. he had even made a special trip to the craft store earlier that morning to pick out stickers, fancy markers and pens, the glue dot runner his mom suggested for the photos and tickets, scrapbook paper, and designed washi tape.

he was excited to get to work. he was even more excited to see your reaction to the finished project.

and after a week and a half, and many 'is this good?' texts to his mom, the scrapbook was completed. just in enough time for your anniversary.

he had ran out and got flowers and your favorite candy to give to you along with his handmade gift. the two of you always kept it simple on your anniversary, beings it was in the middle of valentine's day and his birthday.

when you got home, he was eager to give you your gift. you laughed as he basically ran to you as you opened the door when you got home from work.

"hey," you laughed, "eager to see me?"

"always," he smiled, kissing your forehead sweetly, "come on, i've got a surprise for you."

you didn't even have time to kick off your heels before he was dragging you into the kitchen. he smiled as your eyes landed on the scrapbook, flowers, and candy. immediately 'aww'ing at his gesture.

"aww, tom," you cooed, grabbing the scrapbook from the island, "this is adorable."

the smile never left his face as you flipped through the pages, each page being a different date that the two of you went on. he had made special pages for the tickets you saved to each of the marvel movie premiers you two had gone to together. he even had the pictures he had taken on his phone of the two of you printed out so he could stick them on the spider-man scrapbook paper.

yes, he paid $15 for spider-man scrapbook paper.

the last page of the scrapbook paper was white, lace trimming on the top and bottom. you read the letters over and over again, taking in the detail. there was a diamond ring sticker, along with 4 words in white and black block letters:

'will you marry me?'

you turned to see him on one knee, smiling up at you. you laughed softly, closing the book and putting it back on the island. your vision became blurry the longer you looked at him as he sat on one knee.

"will you marry me, darling?"

you smiled, immediately nodding your head, "do you even have to ask?"

he chuckled, standing as he slipped the ring onto your finger, "is that a yes?"

you leaned up and kissed him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. his cheeks were warm as you took in the smell of his cologne and after shave. it smelled like home.

"a million times yes." you smiled, nose rubbing against his before he leaned back down and kissed you again.

"my fiancée sounds a lot better than girlfriend, huh?" he smiled, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from your face.

"couldn't have said it better myself."

[mushroom-creacher]

Car Troubles

Chapter 2

< - >

“Wait, so you’re telling me, that Eddie Munson, the local scary badass of Hawkins High, gave you, his number?”

“I’m starting to feel offended by what you’re insinuating, Robin.”

Steve was organizing the shelves of the horror movie section while Robin stood at the front desk. The video store was practically empty this time of day.

“I’m just saying, you two seem like complete opposites in every way possible. Do you even have anything in common?”

“As a matter of fact,” He said, propping his elbow on a shelf to face his coworker, “We have a pretty similar taste in movies. And you know, we both hang around the kids. And, uh, oh! Apparently, we both know how to do hair, so we traded some tips, he’s got this amazing homemade hair mask- “

“O-K, you’ve proven me wrong! Just please do not start on the hair lectures again.”

Steve scoffed at her dismissal. “You know, Rob, if you’d listen to those ‘lectures’ every once in a while, you wouldn’t have to spend so long taming those curls in the morning.”

“You spend more time with your hair than I do!”

“Not detangling it! You could do so much more with your hair if you didn’t spend so much time getting all the knots out.”

“Have you considered the fact that I don’t care?” Robin’s voice dripped with playful sarcasm.

“That arrogance will be your love life’s downfall,” Steve warned with his hands on his hips.

“Like your love life is doing so much better than mine with your fancy hair?”

“...Touché, Robin. Touché.”

Robin laughed at the man’s lack of a rebuttal. “Do I need to get a new scoreboard?”

“Another way for you to mock and humiliate me? No, thank you.”

Before either of them could settle back into silence and continue with their work, the small bell at the door rang softly.

Robin turned to the customer as they approached the front desk. She was about to recite the usual customer spiel when she recognized the oh-so-infamous face of Hawkins High’s loudest misfit. 

“Is Steve here?” The young man asked.

Robin grinned before turning towards the horror movie shelves. “Stevie! Your new bestie is here to see you!”

Steve whipped around to face Robin; a blush spread across his face.

A short laugh escaped Eddie as he looked at the other man. “Hey there, Stevie.”

“I hate you both. I mean it this time.”

“Oh, you love us, and you know it!” Robin said, leaning against the top of the desk.

“I have to agree with your rambunctious friend here, Harrington. I’m too cute to be hated.”

“Haha, you’re both hilarious.” Steve put the last movies on the shelf before making his way to the two. “I guess introductions are due. Robin, Eddie. Eddie, Robin.”

Eddie dramatically bowed to the young woman behind the counter. “The one and only! A pleasure to meet you.”

“No offense, but you are not at all what I expected, Eddie. A lot less, you know, scary and intimidating.”

“Unsurprisingly, you’re not the first to tell me that,” Eddie chuckled. “I guess I just look scarier than I am.”

“Mhm, like a punk vampire.”

“I love that! I gotta put that on a business card!”

Steve watched as the two continued to talk. He was really happy they were getting along, but, for some reason, he couldn’t shake this feeling in his stomach. It sort of felt like... Jealousy?

No, he thought. It couldn’t be that. He didn’t have feelings for Robin like that. Maybe it’s protectiveness? Yeah, that’s it. He’s just looking out for his friend.

“Steve, come look at this!” Robin’s voice brought Steve’s attention back to the two at the front desk. She was examining Eddie’s hands over the counter.

“This guy’s got like 15 rings!”

“It’s only eight,” Eddie chuckled. Steve looked at the man’s hands. There were in fact around eight large, metal rings adorning his fingers. A few skulls, a bat, and most just plain rings in different colors.

“Nice, where’d you get ‘em?” Steve asked, looking back up at Eddie.

“This guy I sell to runs some kind of jewelry business, sometimes I let him trade in some cool shit like this.”

Robin was fidgeting with a ring that had a black skull on it. “I wish I had rings like this.”

“Wanna trade? The one on my pinky is kinda small, was supposed to be a middle ring but I got the size wrong.”

“Hell yeah! Here you can have...” Robin looked over the four rings she had before plucking a small band with a purple rhinestone heart off her index finger. “This one! I won it at the fair one year.”

“You have a deal!” Eddie slipped off the small skull ring and traded it for Robin’s. “Perfect fit.”

There was that feeling in Steve’s gut again. Maybe he should talk to Eddie. Just tell him that Robin’s not interested now so it doesn’t get messy later.

“Hey, Eddie, can I talk to you real quick?”

Eddie snapped his attention away from his new ring and towards Steve. “Uh, sure, man.”

Steve led Eddie to the back of the store.

“So, what’s up?”

“I first want to state that me and Robin are not together and I’m only telling you this because she’s my best friend and I try to look out for her.”

“Ok?” Eddie chuckled; the confusion clear on his face.

“I don’t know if I’m reading the room right or something, but I’m gonna let you know now, that Robin isn’t looking for a boyfriend. So, trying to shoot a shot with her isn’t going to work. Like she is 100% not looking for dates or hookups or anything like that-”

Steve’s rambling was interrupted by a barking laugh. It was coming from Eddie. Now Steve was the confused one.

“Dude, that’s not what’s happening at all.” Eddie calmed himself with a chuckle. “No offense, but she’s not my type. And I didn’t think I was her type either.”

“Oh. Well good, then no need to worry.” Surprising relief washed over Steve. That gut feeling was definitely gone now but it still felt different than just protectiveness. Oh well, it doesn’t matter now.

“Yeah, man, that’s never going to happen with us. However, she is really cool, and I will be attempting to get her to join Hellfire.” Eddie grinned.

Steve let out a small laugh. “Good luck with that, Dustin’s been trying to get us to do a campaign with him for ages. She never budges.”

‘Who knows, maybe my rouge-like charm will win her over,” he joked.

“Hey man, you can try all you want but Rob is a stubborn person.”

“Are you two going to start including me in the conversation or should I just go grab lunch while you two flirt all day?” Robin yelled across the room to the two men.

Eddie laughed as he walked back over to the front desk.

“And very blunt,” Steve muttered as he made his way to the other two.

“Now that we’re all back together, that brings me back to my original reason for visiting. There is a Rocky showing tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you’d like to join me. Both of you, now that I know you have cool friends, Harrington.”

Robin gasped. “I didn’t even know they did Rocky showings around here!”

“Well, technically, they don’t. However, some very anonymous rebels were able to get a tape and access to the theater after hours.”

“What’s so special about a Rocky movie? I mean it’s just about boxing, right?” Steve had spoken up, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m pretty sure he’s talking about Rocky Horror, Steve,” Robin chuckled at his misunderstanding.

The look on Steve’s face only grew deeper. “What’s that? A horror movie or something?”

Both teens’ eyes shot wide open as they stared at Steve.

“Oh, you sweet summer child… Just- Meet me in the alley behind the theater tomorrow at 10. Trust me you won’t regret it.” Eddie’s eyes had a mischievous glint to them. Steve didn’t know what he was in for, but he could help to be curious now.

Robin cleared her throat, bringing their attention to her. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Absolutely! The more the merrier!”

“Great! Nance will love this.”

“Well, I gotta get going now. The band can’t practice without their star! See you guys there.” Eddie winked before heading out of the video store.

[wooziorgans]

polaroids || xmh

summary: While moving into a new apartment, Minghao finds an old box full of Polaroids. All of them are with an old band member: Y/N.

genre: angst, fluff, hurt (for right now, no comfort), idol au, gn/male reader, ex!idol reader, written mostly in the form of flashbacks.

a/n: i wrote something like this years ago and decided it would be a good concept for minghao <3. currently i have no real plans besides recounting a relationship that no longer exists, so right now this fic is mainly hurt w no comfort. but we’ll see. this chapter is based off the original so it’s very,,, reminiscent of what a 15 y/o would write and it’s not my best work. also hi, this is my first fic that im posting to tumblr yippee!!

word count: 1.3k

previous | masterlist | next

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.1 .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Most of his apartment was packed. It was time to relocate, something that was almost annual for Minghao at this point. No matter what he was doing, he craved the change in scenery. He had no idea when this habit developed, but if things were too constant he would fall into intense episodes of anxiety. It was a vice; needing constant change was Minghao’s biggest source of impurity.

The small, black box that sat on the shelf was taunting Minghao. He knew what was in it; how could he have forgotten? It was now on the floor of his closet. He closed his eyes softly for a second, to suppress any emotion he would feel as he lifted the box open. Bracing himself, he lifted the lid, breathing deeply. The photo on top was a picture of Minghao and Y/N; both were covered in snow and smiling. Minghao remembered every moment leading up to the Polaroid.

It was one of their first times playing a show up north in America. Y/N and Minghao left the tour bus to explore the snow and get a warm coffee from a café they had both been eyeing since they arrived in Chicago. Wonwoo tagged along, claiming that Seungkwan was being dramatic and needed time alone. Y/N and Minghao threw on as many layers as they could find, both of them not used to the bite of the January winds, or the feet of snow that blanketed the Earth. No one told them that along with snow, there would also be ice.

Minghao’s gloved hand was intertwined with Y/N’s bare one. Y/N had a habit of always forgetting something, especially when it came to the climate. One day it would be gloves, the next would be a scarf. The disruption in routine when it came to new weather while on tour was Y/N’s biggest downfall. Minghao would always scold them for it, worrying that he would get sick in the cold. Y/N listened each time, but these warning would slip his mind shortly after.

“Watch out for the ice,” Minghao breathed into the air of his closet. That’s what he had said all those years ago. It was another warning that went unnoticed.

Y/N didn't see the patch of ice in front of them, nor did they feel it. They hit the ice with a preoccupied foot and landed on their ass in a snow bank. Minghao came down with them, both of them landing on their backs in a snow bank beside the side walk. Flake of snow were falling on Minghao’s face. Y/N rolled over in the snow, overtop of Minghao, now letting the soft flakes fall on the back of their head.

At the realization that Y/N was on top of him, Minghao’s face got darker than it had already been from the cold. He shifted on underneath the weight of Y/N. In a moment of courage, Y/N grabbed onto the collar of Minghao’s jacket. There was a look of horror on Minghao’s face, but that changed as a snowflake fell on the tip of his nose. He smiled as it melted. More fell on his face as the snow fell harder. Y/N, always being the more forward of the pair, began to place small kisses on Minghao’s face where ever the snowflakes fell.

First, it was his nose. Y/N’s warm lips against the tip of Minghao’s cold nose sent hot shivers through his spine. His hands found their way to Y/N’s hips, and pulled them closer in the cold. Y/N backed away from Minghao’s face for a second, a wide smile forming on their face as the snowflakes fell elsewhere on Minghao’s face.

Next, it was Minghao’s forehead. Everything felt so affectionate and warm despite the freezing atmosphere around the two of them; and at that moment, any final contingency of believing that the relationship between Y/N and Minghao was strictly platonic melted away. There was no more dancing around each other, no more ignoring the hidden glances they would take at each other. This had been coming for a long time, and the waiting game was finally over.

Minghao huffed out a breathe, much like he did in the cold of Chicago all those years ago. This time, he could not see his breath as he had when he was laying in the snow with Y/N. The frown on his face was a stark juxtaposition to the bright smile that reflected off the snow.

When Minghao began giggling softly at the sensation of Y/N’s lips on his face, Y/N tilted their head carefully and placed a cautious kiss to Minghao’s cold, soft lips. Minghao froze, a little star struck. Y/N pulled back for a few seconds, breathing a little harder than before. They leaned down again to place another kiss on Minghao’s lips. This time, Minghao returned the kiss, smiling into it. Both of them began to smile even wider, completely oblivious to Wonwoo, who was watching everything that was happening. Wonwoo stood a few feet away on the sidewalk, staring.

Minghao’s hands moved from Y/N’s waist to their neck. Their neck was cold even through the fabric of Minghao’s gloves, and Minghao felt them tense up but ease back into the soft, careful touch that graced their neck. A few short kisses were placed on Minghao’s lips before Y/N pulled back smiling down him and pushed themself out of the snowbank. Y/N offered a bare hand to Minghao, who accepted it. Y/N pulled him up and into their arms. They held each other for a few long moments, trying to absorb each others warmth.

Minghao looked over Y/N’s shoulder as they just stood completely in their own little bubble. Wonwoo was behind their back, looking completely dumbfounded in shock. Minghao smiled at him shyly. "So, is this- uh?" Wonwoo still looked disoriented out of his mind as he tried to speak.

Y/N released their grip on Minghao, turning to face Wonwoo. "Yeah,” they breathe out, a trail of frost following their words. They turn to Minghao, “We’ll have to talk about it later. We can’t really ignore this anymore." Y/N grabbed Minghao’s hand and continued the little amount of distance to the coffee shop. Minghao follows like a puppy.

At one point, he would always follow them. He was the passive one, but he was the stubborn one. At one point, Minghao would have followed them to the ends of the Earth.

He realizes how much time has passed since them. There is no one to follow. Minghao has no directions, even if it’s been years. There are no directions on his GPS to lead him to Y/N. The path with Y/N became a series of wrong turns; he was so sure that Y/N was a wrong turn for years after they parted ways.

Revisiting this box for the first time in two years, Minghao isn’t so sure of that anymore.

"You two are the last two to notice," Wonwoo laughed, “Don’t let your new revelation distract you though, we’ve got a show to play tonight.” Minghao leaned down and placed a small kiss on an exposed part of Y/N’s neck. Both of them were smiling, giddy from the first move finally being made.

‘Click!' Wonwoo snapped a photo of the two of them with his Polaroid camera. They were covered in white flakes, with rosy cheeks and noses from the cold. They looked happy.

“Yeah,” Minghao breathes, “yeah.” The fatigue from the freezing air seems to have found its way back into his lungs. Minghao feels completely breathless, seated on his floor. It’s the same shortness of breath he felt in Chicago, despite doing no exercise. The cold does that to you, it leaves you asphyxiated and dumb. That’s how Minghao feels a he stares at the first Polaroid from the box, which has found its way into his hands.

He feels dumb.

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love.

Chapter 4: This is it, the Apocalypse. 

“Myrt?” Arcade pondered “you ok?”, “I need time to chill the fuck out before I go in and fix his hand” she mumbled “guys I’ll be up in my room for a bit, don’t disturb me ok?” she said as she stumbled to her room, Rex following not too far behind her.

“Is she gonna be alright, should I check on her?” Cass pondered, “Myrt’s just needing “alone time” right now Cassidy” Boone said “she needs to just…”, “you need to talk to her Craige, if she’ll listen to anyone it’s you” Raul said as he sipped his coffee.

Myrtle was in her room scrounging around “c’mon, c’mon where are you?” she grumbled as she looked for what she needed.

She finally found what she was looking for, hidden on the top shelf of her gun cabinet, a small tin box and a bottle of vodka. “Just a few mentats and a shot of happy juice…” she mumbled. She flipped open the tin and Rex started to whimper.

“C’mon now Rexie-baby, don’t gimme them sad eyes…” she grumbled, Rex just whimpered sadly and whent to go hide under her bed, she sighed “you wouldn’t understand puppers…”

She sat on her bed and looked at the bottle…

“Maybe just some happy juice for right now” she pondered, Rex whimpered, “ok, ok Rexie-baby…I’ll just…I’ll just read some Grognak comics for now”, Rex’s tail wagged. 

Cicero felt so…blissful…but he knew it was an illusion, he HAD to escape. These daedra in human disguises would do…Sithis know what to him…

He shifted and looked down at his hand, it was scratched up and bleeding a little…

Cicero bit and licked at his wrist to lubricant it, then with enough effort he managed to slip his hand out. With one arm out he got to work trying to free his other hand…no use.

His other hand was cuffed tighter than the other one. “Sithis damn it” he grumbled…

He heard footsteps coming, he started to panic “oh bother and befuddle, what if they see me uncuffed?!”, the door opened…

Myrtle walked in with medical supplies, “ok buddy, please let me take a look at that hand, ok?” she said as she approached him, Cicero saw in the bag a sharp knife…

“Ok, so buddy, hear me out” Myrtle said as she gently took Cicero’s injured hand “I’am not a daedra-thing out to hurt you ok?, I’am just a regular human like you”, Cicero wasn’t listening, he needed to get that knife…maybe if he could use his feet?..., “look, I know you're scared, you don’t know where you are and you have no idea what I am but given the fact that I haven’t once tried to kill you should clue you in that I mean you no harm so please” she moved the bag away from him “stop”.

 That just made Cicero angrier “well” he snarled “what do you intended to do to Cicero?”, she looked into his eyes “fix what you did to your hand first” she smirked “then when you're all bandaged up I’am taking you to Usanagi first thing tomorrow, so she can help me find out why there are so many screws loose in you”.

Cicero had to try a different tactic with her, to get out of his bindings and find his way back to Tamriel, he had…to play along.

Maybe even try charming her a bit…

“Metal woman…has anyone told you your metal eye is very pretty?”, she chuckled “thanks for the flattery…even though I know bullshiting when I hear it bud” she smirked. 

(Speech 100 vs Speech 15)

Cicero pouted, Myrtle eyed him, “sorry short king but you ain’t no casanova” she giggled, Cicero grumbled, “now we are having gecko kebabs for lunch, you what anything with yours? Insta mash?, Blamco mac n cheese, I have a few boxes of fancy lad snack cakes if you want one” she smiled.

He turned away and huffed, “no need to be so grumpy, I AM really trying to help you” she shrugged.

She left the room and Cicero looked at his cuffed hand, if only he had a lock pick…or a knife…

He looked around the room, there was little to be found say for the dresser, a window and a bed, he wondered what was in the dresser? He stretched himself out and reached for the bottom dresser drawer, inside he found strange metal coins and a few metal pins of some kind.

He took the pins and hid them under himself, later on at night when it was dark and quiet he would make his escape.

“Ok since you didn't specify what ya wanted I got ya a bit of everything” Myrtle said as she entered the room with a fully loaded plate: it had 3 huge honey mesquite-grilled gecko kebabs covered in a homemade nuka-cola jalapeno bbq sauce, blamco mac n cheese, fluffy instamash with brahmin butter on top, elote maize and to wash it all down she was even giving him an ice-cold sunset sarsaparilla.

She sat it all down next to him “and I even got you this” she said as she gave him a small white frosted cake of some kind.

“Now can I trust you with a fork to not stab yourself or me please?” she sighed, Cicero nodded, she watched, observing him closely as he looked at the food suspiciously.

Cicero had never seen food like this before, let alone was going to eat it, but to play along and survive…he would have to. He looked at everything on the plate, he recognized the “instamash” as mashed up potatoes so he tried that first…it was actually pretty good.

Fluffy, buttery and lightly salted, good potatoes, next he tried the “maize” it was butter, spiced with flavorful zest and crunchy, overall really good.  The mac n cheese stuff on the other hand…

Oh sweet Sithis, it was GOOD!

It was creamy and cheesy and was by far the best thing he had ever eaten, then he tried the kebabs…

Good lord his mouth was on fire!, he instantly regretted taking such a big bite and looked around for something to drink, “sarsaparilla” Myrtle pointed to the strange orange bottle. He had trouble getting the odd metal cork off the top of it, it looks like one of the strange metal coins from the drawer, she helped him out and he guzzled it down.

It was sweet! And the flavor though strange was quite enjoyable, Cicero then looked at the little cake.

He tasted it…it was like…like a sweetroll, Cicero sighed…he wanted to be back home in the sanctuary…

He began to panic again, if he did not get back soon, who would tend to the Night Mother?!

“Alright you finished?, I’ll see you again at dinner, hey let me know if you want any snacks or if you want to talk, ok?” Myrtle took his plate and walked away, “oh yes…see you soon…” Cicero grinned.

He would see her again…after all…he can’t have any of them following him now can he?

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Past Due (Dean/OFC)

Title: Past Due

Rating: Mature

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Original Female Character

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has an effect on an older woman he's known for years. Kansas, Men of Letters Bunker Setting. Set around Season 15 with some canon-divergent plotting. 

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Explicit Language, Smut, Angst, POV First Person, POV Female Character, Librarians, Friends to Lovers, Protective Dean Winchester, The Winchesters Are On A Case, The Boys Deserved A Better Ending

Chapters 1 to 3 Word Count: ~ 5K   

Notes: Posted on AO3 10/2/20; Completed 7/16/21. 

Chapter 1

Am I being checked out while checking him out? 

I scan the barcode on the back cover. His eyes are trained on my face with a little more interest than usual.

Do I have some spinach between my teeth from the salad I had for lunch? God, why does he have to do that thing with his tongue?

I readjust the glasses on the bridge of my nose and make some quiet small talk with the gorgeousness in front of me. I do most of the talking and he does most of the nodding.

No. Dean Winchester is not checking me out. He’s just existing and breathing and short circuiting my brain as he tends to do on occasion with his proximity. 

I will not fuss with my hair like I always do when he’s close enough for me to smell him. Oh, Goddammit.

I feel like a sixteen year old around this man. Every damn time. It’s not fair. It happened the first time I met him six years ago. He’d handed over the paperwork and I processed his library card application. He smiled that lopsided grin that says, You poor unsuspecting creature. I’m so handsome I don’t even have to make much of an effort . 

That was the day he and his mountain man of a brother, Sam, walked into the Smith Center Library. Back when they had used Campbell as their last names on the application. And before they had helped with a haunting that blew their aliases. At least with me. It was a “job” for them that involved my brother five towns over. The house he had bought for a song at a sheriff sale, turned out, came with a supernatural squatter. 

“No shit it was cheap. Because someone was murdered in it. No offense, but your brother was pretty much asking for trouble knowing that going in.” I still remember Dean’s very accurate logic when they’d gotten the full history. 

I shouldn’t feel like a sixteen year old - when I’m 46, speeding toward 47 in a couple months - with a man five years my junior. Even if it is Dean Winchester.

He reminds me of my second husband, Lou. Full of sass, rounded out with some grump, and a sprinkle of edge. He drinks like Lou did. I only know that because I’d bought Dean and Sam a round of drinks one night a few years back. It was a thank you after they’d burned the remains of the poor soul that was stuck in what they called a death echo in my younger brother’s house. Top shelf scotch is Dean’s preferred drink of choice when someone else is buying, by the way. And he has a high tolerance for alcohol that one only gets after decades of experience. Like my second husband, Lou.

He drives a vintage muscle car like Lou did, too. You can hear it ten seconds before it turns onto West Court Street and pulls up to park in front of the library. That engine sound always gets my fellow co-workers on high alert and wide eyed, just like me. It’s a disappointment to all of us when it’s not Dean.

He flirts with every female between the ages of eighteen and eighty that crosses his path. Again, like Lou. It’s his default setting. He seems to prefer a tight skirt from what I’ve gathered through my research. But he rarely slights and denies the opposite sex his charms or thorough assessment if they decide to don pants or shorts.

My brain finally registers the title of the book he’s checked out on the computer screen. The attraction fog has lifted for a brief second. I turn the tome over on the counter and read the title aloud. “Fairies and Wood Nymphs? Do I want to ask?”

He shakes his head. I twist my fingers near my mouth to indicate my lips are sealed. Then he flashed me that weird look again. Almost like he’s processing some data. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in here for over a month and I’m paying every flinch and twitch even more attention than usual. I realize in real time I’m cataloguing all of these In case I don’t see him for another month. Or, God forbid, two months. “You really are, aren’t you, Winter?” He finally pipes up with a question, using my surname as usual. The smile returns to his face.

“What’s that, Mr. Campbell?” I respond with a way too giddy smile and slide the book back to him. My coworkers are probably snickering at me behind the periodicals as they watch the show. Sure, like they wouldn’t be putty in this man’s hands, either. Even Ronald turns into mush around Dean.

He bends and leans back a bit to rest those thick forearms on the counter. Plaid clad shoulders, green eyes, freckled skin, and pouty lips are now at eye level with my five foot four frame. “Good at keeping a secret.” He mumbles and lowers his voice more with every syllable.

That voice triggers the floodgates down below.

What the hell is going on right now? “Friends don’t call me ‘The Vault’ for nothin’.” I somehow get the sentence out. Being this close reminds me of the night at the bar. When the scotch had worked its magic at the Mexican restaurant. The neon green cactus aesthetic and terra cotta motif had lulled Dean into some sort of sarape security blanket. He’d divulged a lot after Sam, downing only one drink, had left in the Impala with the promise to pick up his brother in a couple of hours. By the end of the night, Dean said I was a good listener and not quick to judge. That I had a nice calming presence. That I’d must have seen some heavy shit in my lifetime, too. 

“Can I ask you something?” His brows raise.

My mouth has dried up so I can only nod in response.

He cocks his head to the library entrance. “Do you have a minute to talk outside?”

I nod again. I may not be the boss, but my seniority and elder status give me a little leeway.

He rises up, taps the counter and grabs the book. “I’ll be waitin’ in the car.” I get a full smile this time and almost pass out.

I push the front door of the library and spill out on the sidewalk a couple minutes later. His black beauty of a car is still there, waiting. The nippy Fall temperature is enough for me to wrap my cardigan tight around my middle. Dean is in the driver’s seat, windows open, with Lynyrd Skynyrd playing on the radio.

He has an eager and appreciative look on his face when he exits the vehicle and walks toward the hood to meet me. “Thanks.”

I shrug. “What did you want to ask me?” I wrap some stray, windswept strands back behind my ear.

“Sam and I, we could use some help at the bunker.”

I can’t help but gasp at the word. Bunker. This legendary place I’ve gotten sparse, verbal descriptions of here and there over the years. Their home base. Sam has boasted of its library to me.

“Well, mainly Sam could use some help. Because I’m useless when it comes to the library. And, he also doesn’t trust me when it comes to the books.”

Library. I’m able to stifle another gasp. I stand in silence, waiting for more.

He sighs. “Let’s just say we had an accident. A lot of the books got damaged, flew off shelves into a massive paper mountain.”

My head nods in a fury. “Yes, I’d love to help.”

He chuckles at my eagerness. “Great.” He hands me a note, like we’re in high school. “Meet me at this intersection and I’ll show you the rest of the way there?”

“When?”

“Whatever's good for you.”

I realize how non existent my social life is lately and offer, “Friday night?”

He nods. Another grin. “Eight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It’s a date.” He winks.

Lou NEVER winked.

Chapter 2

I left my cottage in Smith Center that Friday after the sun had set. It was a twenty minute drive before I came upon Dean at the crossroads, waiting for me with a grin and a goal when my headlights spotted him. I followed Dean’s Impala in my Wrangler down the long, winding prairie road eventually overtaken by trees for another ten minutes. The radio kept me company in the dark. The wooded area closed in on each side as I drove behind the Impala’s wake. 

A clearing amid the trees to the right gets my attention. I peer up and gasp, braking in time to avoid a mild fender bender after Dean’s abrupt stop. 

The bunker looks like a massive detention center or secret government facility built into a rather large hill. It’s intimidating in its grey, drab, and impenetrable appearance. Illumination from the moon and stars in the Kansas sky provide a perfect backdrop. I can see the outline of the sharp roofline structure high above the tree canopies.

What the hell am I getting into? These brothers have provided the occasional glimpse into their lives with the weird research requests over the past few years. I should feel scared or worried. But, the quick pace of my heartbeat has more to do with the excitement of peeking at what’s behind the curtain. And, finally seeing the place Sam and Dean Winchester call home in Lebanon, Kansas.

The squeak of Dean’s driver side door as it opens and he plants boots on the gravel makes the blood pound in my ears. He eases, almost pours out. The door cinches shut with a creak. My headlights spotlight him again. He strolls over on those bow legs. I kill the engine. He leans against my open window, staring down, a hand and forearm reclining on the rooftop. “Still okay with this, Winter?”

I smile. He’s such a perfect mix of rugged and that kind of handsome they don’t make anymore. He reminds me of Paul Newman, Robert Redford, John Wayne or Clint Eastwood in their heyday. But, then he’ll shine some cheekiness that gives me the vibe of a Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin hosting a variety hour from the 60s. I stare at those lips a little longer than I should. Again. “Yep. This is already the most eventful Friday night I’ve had in forever.”

He taps the roof. “Alright, then.”

The temperature has dropped and I’m glad I wore a heavy jacket. The gravel crunches underfoot and Dean has enough courtesy and manners to lead the way in the dark with a flashlight.

“Got a few concrete steps here. Careful on the way down.”

I chuckle. “So nice of you to look out for your elder.”

He waves the flashlight in my direction, but low to my chest so it’s not directly in my eyes. “You do that a lot, you know.”

I stop in my tracks. “What?”

“Point out that you’re older than me.”

“Do I?”

“Mh-hm.” The flashlight rotates back around in his hand so we can continue the trek. He waits until we are both at the threshold of a large door. It looks like a bank vault. The click of a key in a lock is heard when he adds, “Why do you do that?”

I shrug in the shadows.

The door gives to Dean’s pull and sounds like he’s breaking some type of hermetic seal. In moments we are atop a stairwell. The door slams behind us and makes me jump. My eyes widen at the view below, something out of a 40s war room. Dean’s already halfway down the iron staircase before my feet are able to move. I track and inventory the vintage communication devices, the art deco architecture, the solid build of this secret place with brick and stone and marble. A huge table in the middle of the room has a world map lit up from below as its surface. Dean drops his backpack on the table without a second glance. “Sam!” He yells.

He walks to a large open entryway into another room with a step up. I glimpse the row of tables and shelves. And the books. The books scattered everywhere. The smell of leather and musky paper fills the air. I inhale deep and get that little whiff of smoke and vanilla that I love.

“I’d invite you to make yourself at home, but that’s not really possible at the moment.” He motions for me to follow. Dean shucks off his jacket and hangs it on the back of one of the chairs. I’m attracted to a nook in the beautiful hall filled with clutter. I drape my jacket on a wingback chair and pick up a hardbound book on one of the stacks. There are dozens of these book pillars piled in various heights, some reaching to my shoulders. “Where the hell is he?” Dean asks no one in particular.

I notice a Samurai sword on display to my left when Sam’s free floating voice calls out. “Be there in a minute, Dean!”

Dean sighs and slinks through the maze of books. He lands on my right and stares down at me. “Are you hungry? We’ve got a stocked kitchen for once. Sandwich? Snack? Beer?”

I shake my head, too busy splitting my gaze between his expectant green eyes and the volume in my hands. “Is this an actual first edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales?”

Dean opens his mouth but Sam answers, peeking over the Samurai sword on the bookshelf. “Yep. From 1909. Thanks for coming to help out.” He smiles.

“This is… wow.” I’m speechless.

“Well, I’m hungry.” Dean pipes in. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He darts and bounds up another small set of stairs leading out of the library.

“Remember,” Sam begins.

Dean halts in the other doorway. “I’m not bringing any food in here. I got it, Sam, nothing that might mess up your precious. You're worse than that goblin thing in Lord of the Rings.”

“Gollum was a hobbit.” I correct him.

“Stoor hobbit, actually.” Sam nods in agreement.

Dean purses his lips and raises both hands, then slams them in mock defeat against his thighs. “Thanks for clarifying. Looks like we found the best person to help.” He shakes his head and gives me a tiny smile before disappearing.

My heart beat skips at that smile.

*

Sam and I spend a good fifteen minutes deciding on a strategy to divide and conquer. He’s as giddy as I am to get these things back in their proper spots. The Dewey Decimal system makes the overwhelming task a bit easier. He really only needed another pair of hands and a bookish mindset. I’ll take one side of the library, Sam the other. He’s pulled out a pencil sketch of the shelves and their categories, as best as he can recollect.

“Dean got this glazed look when I asked him to help organize after we got them piled up and out of the middle of the room.”

I thumb through the index cards in the catalogue to get my bearings and hope to find homes for a couple books to start. Anything that doesn’t go on my side that I come across, I’ll leave for Sam on the table closest to the war room. He’ll place anything for me on the other table. “An actual explosion?”

Sam nods. “It was like an earthquake. Shook everything. And, then, there were the…” He clamps his lips tight and runs his fingers through his long hair. “Too much information for your first night. I want you to come back and help.”

I narrow my eyes. “I was already crazy enough to come. It would have to be pretty terrifying for me not to return.”

He shrugs and only repeats, “I want you to come back.”

We talk. He’s hesitant to indulge me with certain facts. But when I ask if Dean has any culinary skills to speak of, he’s almost an open book. Burgers and charring meat appear to be Dean’s specialty. I smile, feeling the tap and tug of my heart, thinking about how good my first husband, Rick, was with a grill and a smoker. I ask about Jack. Sam tells me that he’s staying with Cas for a while. 

One afternoon, a couple years back, Dean and I stood huddled by a monitor in the technology area. He was dressed in a sharp blue suit and wore a cologne that filled my nose with citrus and cedar. To this day, I’m not sure how I managed to remain upright.

He was in need of some topographic maps of Lebanon. I didn’t ask why and he seemed grateful. I asked about Jack, since he was fresh in my mind from a recent visit. Dean steeled his jaw before confessing he and Sam were having difficulty with their new charge. I learned they had saved Jack from a dangerous situation. I assumed it was something supernatural. His mom had passed when he was born and their friend, Cas, had taken the boy under his wing not long after that. Now that friend was in need of more assistance with Jack. There was more to the story, but I didn’t press.

I knew why he mentioned Jack’s mom. He knew about my first husband. It had been one of my confessions over those drinks years back. Rick had been my high school sweetheart. We’d married halfway through university at KWU in Salina. I got my bachelors. Rick had turned his volunteer firefighter position into a career, dropped out after two years at university, and kept telling me he was going to go back to school after. After was Rick’s favorite word.

We moved back to Smith Center after school. I got a job at the library soon after that. Our son Ricky came along a year later. Rick had promised a five year old Ricky at the dinner table they would go to the neighbor’s farm over the weekend. He’d get his first pony ride. After his 24-hour shift at the firehouse.

Rick never came home after that shift.

Chapter 3

I shake myself from the memory. I’m not sure how long it is before I turn around to grab from a new stack and find Dean standing right there. My nose brushes against his shirt. I avoid slamming the rest of me into him. 

I smell the fresh clean showered scent of him. He’s sporting loungewear like a male supermodel. The spiky damp hair is doing weird things to my insides. I want to run my fingers through them like I’m sprinting through a field of wheat. And, then I want to tug on those strands while he…

“Is Sam taking advantage of you?” He smirks, chin to his chest, looking down at me. “Free labor and all. Sure you aren’t hungry?”

“No, I’m good, thanks. Getting in the zone.”

He nods into his chest. “Well, if you plan on it being an all-nighter, we’ve got plenty of space for you to crash.”

“Dean…” Sam side eyes and scolds him with a slight shake of his head.

I realize how curious I am to explore more of this amazing place. I also realize how much being this close to Dean makes me wish he’d never be more than an arm’s length away. See? Sixteen year old. My twenty-three year old son would be mortified at his mother’s behavior right now. Thank God he’s on his own and away at school, working on his Master’s in Library Science. He would love this book collection, though. “I could use directions to a bathroom.”

Dean smiles. “Sure. Follow me.”

I nod to Sam. His gives me a hesitant smile.

Dean leads out the library in slippers that remind me of something my father would wear. I stare at the heels of his bare feet peeking out from the slippers when he steps up. For a second I get an image of the two of us on the couch watching television. His long and solid frame spread out across all the cushions. I’m seated at one end with his calves propped up on my lap, massaging his tired and sore feet. “Coming, Winter?” Dean’s voice calls out. He’s turned to wait, a quizzical stare at me. Shit, how long have I been daydreaming?

I join him. He’s along my left down the marble and stone corridors. They contain a plethora of doors and intersections that turn my sense of direction on its head. The halls feel cold, antiseptic, even though the design and style is meticulous and elegant.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You probably have a dozen more questions now.”

“Try a hundred. It’s just the two of you in this huge place?”

“Well, sometimes Jack. And, Cas.”

“Do you have a cleaning service come in or something?” I run a finger along the marble wall as I pass. I tilt my head in approval at the lack of dirt.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a really great filtration system. Just have the usual upkeep with the common areas and our rooms.”

“I need to get me one of those.”

“Or live in a secret lair with no windows.”

“Hm, that’s true, you don’t have any. You really could not know what’s going on outside while you’re in here.”

“It’s a hermit’s fantasy. Like that hobbit.” He grins and stops at a door. “It’s the bathroom slash showers. Don’t get lost in there. Or on your way back. Make a right out the door, left at the dead end.” He points down the hall with two fingers like a cop directing traffic. “Pass two cross streets, then make a right onto the next one. You’ll see the library entrance on your left. Eventually.”

I frown. “If I get lost?”

“Just call me, Winter.”

*

My flats shuffle down the hall. I make my way back to the library and feel like I’m at work. I shift into my quiet and unobtrusive mood. Unseen unless needed or called upon.

Dean’s instructions were clear and easy to follow. The slight panic at being in an unknown maze subsides when I hear their voices. I turn down the hall. The warm amber light from the library spills into the corridor yards away.

Their voices travel toward me. The acoustics are quite good in this place. I can tell they are trying to keep their voices low.

“You should ease up.” Sam sounds irritated.

“What?”

“Not every woman needs to be a conquest, Dean.”

“Shut it. I-I don’t think about Winter like-.” Dean stutters. “I’d never think of her as a conquest.”

And that. That’s what makes my heart drop into my stomach. Of course he doesn’t think of me that way.

Sam sighs. “I can really use her help. And, she’s always been nothing but nice to us.”

Dean sighs back. “I know that.”

I take a deep breath, beat myself over the head with reality. Cough for good measure so they know I’m coming. When I turn the corner, Sam is busy in his section and Dean is between the tables, ringing his hands, and smiling at me.

He’s been sweet because, why, felt bad for me? Placating me, maybe? He just knows he’s got that effect on women?

“Great at directions, Sam. Told ya.” Dean claps his hands. “I’ve been told enough space has been cleared and that snacks may be brought in.” He raises a finger in the air for emphasis. “I’ll be back.” A quick turn and dash around the corner of a table has him disappearing through the war room.

When I step in to assume my spot I catch his figure heading through a doorway by the stairwell entrance. I resume the work. Quiet and unobtrusive.

“Everything alright?” Sam notices the change.

“Yep.” I flash a smile full of teeth. “This is an amazing collection.” I pretend to rifle through the pages of one book with interest before placing it on a shelf.

“Did Dean… say something… to make you uncomfortable?” Sam strolls closer and leans on the table to sit. I think it’s an attempt to shorten our height differential. “He can get a little carried away.”

I fidget with the frames of my glasses. “No. I’m used to it. He’s like that with every woman, right?” I grab two books and study the spines.

Sam shrugs. “Kind of.” From my peripheral view, I can see him lean down farther and try to make eye contact. Or get a read on me. “I mean, it’s not like you’d be interested, right?” 

This weird sound comes out of my mouth that resembles a laugh being choked out of my windpipe. When I look up Sam has a deer in the headlights expression. The wrinkles on his forehead have multiplied.

He chuckles and blinks. “Right.” Fingers tap on the table surface and he’s back to work on his side.

*

I spend another hour and a half with the brothers in the library. Dean brought a variety of things to munch on. My heart feels a little heavy at my assumption about his interest. The fantasy couldn’t last forever in my head. But I try to enjoy Sam and Dean’s company and take everything at face value. They are nice guys, after all. I’m sure there wasn’t any intentional misleading on the part of my emotions.

I crunch my last carrot stick and slide another book home. “Alright, gentlemen. I do know how to party it up on a Friday night. But it’s close to 10:30. I should get myself home.”

Dean squints. “If it’s too late for a drive back…”

I raise a hand in protest. “They haven’t taken my driver’s license away from me yet due to old age. I’ll be fine.”

Dean’s half-hearted smile disappears. He stuffs a few potato chips in his mouth as he gets up. “Let me put on some shoes.”

“What for?”

He lifts both hands up. “Want to make sure you get home safe. I’ll follow you back.”

My mouth opens. There’s a thrill that I’m quick to squash down. “I might not want you to know where I live.” I interject without thinking.

His eyes widen and then he smiles. “It’s cute that you think we don’t already know where you live.”

My head whips to Sam. He shrugs. “Part of the job. We vet everyone who gets let into our little circle of chaos.”

“Be right back.” Dean confirms there’s no way I’m getting out of an escort home.

Sam is ever so grateful for the assistance tonight. He wraps me up in a huge friendly hug that’s warm and comforting. He thinks he can manage the rest of it on his own. But he offers to have me come back soon, inspect and approve what he’s done. The library is always open for me to visit in case I want to do some actual reading.

Dean returns a few minutes later, fully dressed again. The man is quick and ready for action at a moment’s notice. Could have been a firefighter.

I’m quiet on the way out. I follow him down to our cars. He provides the lead and lights my way to the Wrangler. He clicks the driver’s side door closed once I’m in and suggests a three point turn to head back the road we came in on. He offers to lead in the Impala. I decline, sure in my navigational skills.

I keep checking my rear view mirror on the drive back. I see the silhouette of the assured, confident Winchester. I’m positive that man has broken many hearts. But, probably provided some amazing memories for some lucky women. I’m also positive he’d be a hard act to follow for anyone that came after him. I’m not sure I could handle either of those scenarios at this point. 

And how lucky could one woman get anyway in a lifetime? I think back to Rick and the memories that have a grainy film overlay to them now. How special those years were. How misguided and unfair I was to Lou, constantly comparing him to the man I lost. Knowing that my expectations and a multitude of sins on his part led to our divorce five years back. 

It’s better like this: to admire Dean Winchester from afar with the occasional heart palpitations.

I pull into my short drive. I’m self conscious about the loud rumble of the Impala’s engine as Dean rolls past me to stop in front of my house. My neighbors are scattered here and there along the prairie road. No one is on top of each other. But it’s usually quiet this time of night. Jody or Harry will be peeking because of the noise. A second later my prediction is confirmed. I stare off to the right through my passenger window to see a light snap on in the Wilson’s kitchen window.

I hop out of the Wrangler, ready to walk over to Dean’s driver side and thank him for seeing me home. Dean cuts off the engine and emerges with an energetic self propulsion. I stall in my tracks. Even in the dark I blush at those eyes that I know are trained on me. Goddammit.

“Thanks.” I squeak out and clear my throat.

“No problem. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” I hear his hands slide into his jean pockets. He’s closer now. My eyes have adjusted to the dark. His tongue peeks out and brushes that full bottom lip. It glistens in the moonlight. He cocks his head to my porch. “Alright if I watch you get inside?” He raises a hand. “Not me being stalky. Just cautious.”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you have a target on your back or something?” A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s due to fear or standing for too long in the chilly October night.

He grins. “Not at the moment.” My mouth opens up at the cavalier response. He turns serious, maybe because of the look I gave him. “We didn’t want to tell you, didn’t want to worry you…”

“That’s a great way to start things off.” I frown and cross my arms.

“You should get inside, Winter. Gettin’ cold.”

“You can’t do that to me. Leave me hanging like that.” I hear a familiar screen door screech open on hinges that need greasing.

He sighs and nods past my shoulder to something behind me. “I don’t want to explain out here. We’ve got an audience.”

I turn around, past my Jeep and the drive to see Harry in his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’s leaning against a pillar under the floodlight of his porch. A sharp nod in my direction. Jody’s voice travels in the night air, asking her husband what’s going on over at my house.  I sigh and give the neighbor a wave. “Well, we’ve given them something to talk about.” I mumble. “Might as well come inside for a minute so I get all the facts.”

[reddorkredemption]

My Blessed Son—Chapter 15

|| AO3 || Chapter List / Story Info ||  

Summary:

For years, Jack Marston dreamed of killing Edgar Ross, the man who had taken everything from him, who had ruined his life. His obsession with revenge had given him a reason to keep going. But now, after it was done, he was left lost, depressed and without purpose. He was left to navigate life alone with the unforgiving eyes of the law slowly narrowing in on him. Though he soon comes to realize that perhaps he isn't quite as alone as he thought he would be. A continuation from the end of Red Dead Redemption 1.

Word Count: ~6300

Chapter under the cut <3

Jack stared down at the open book in his hands, scanning over the strings of words on the page without truly processing them. Between the crackling of the fireplace, the nonstop ticking of the clock, and the anxious thoughts screaming in his head, he found it impossible to focus. 

It was the middle of the night, drawing close to when the sun would begin to rise, and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He had tossed and turned in bed for hours, kept awake by an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Unable to shake it, he abandoned any hope of sleep and dragged himself into the living room. 

There he pulled the book off the shelf, not even bothering to glance at the cover before settling down by the fireplace to read it. He had hoped it would distract him— that it would give him something else to think about besides the growing pit in his stomach.

It did not.

Jack shook his leg, rattling the chair underneath him, and shoved his nose further into the book. Starting back at the top of the page, he honed in on each individual word, screaming them in his head to drown out the incessant background noise.

He startled, heart nearly jumping out of his chest, when he heard a door within the house being pulled open. Lowering the book to rest in his lap, he looked towards the hallway, just in time to see Lilly sauntering out of the bedroom. He blew out a breath of relief.

She was looking down as she turned to come into the living room, fiddling with the lace on the short sleeve of a nightgown he’d never seen her wear before. She rarely wore anything with such short sleeves and never wore anything that showed skin on her neck and chest. He almost felt he ought to look away, yet he continued to stare.

She glanced in his direction and let out a little exclamation of surprise when she saw him sitting there. Quickly recovering from the surprise, she laughed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Hey, Jack.” She shook her head. “God, you scared me. I didn’t think you’d be out here.”

“Uh, sorry,” he stammered, still a bit rattled himself.

“You better be,” Lilly teased, leaning against the corner of the wall. “Sittin’ in your own living room in your own house?” She scoffed. “I can’t believe the nerve of you….”

He mustered a laugh, hoping she wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart wasn’t in it. 

Her brow twitched, but she didn’t say anything. She pushed herself off the wall and approached him with a soft smile. “How’s the book?”

He lifted the book up from his lap, glancing over the open page. “It’s fine.”

“Just fine?” she asked, curiously bending over to see the cover. 

“Just fine,” he repeated flatly, snapping the book shut.

Her smile faltered a bit, and she straightened up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing away from her. He shook his head and forced himself to sit up straighter. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know….” She strolled the short distance to the sofa and sat down, wrapping her arms around herself. “For one, you aren’t normally up at this time.”

“I just couldn’t fall asleep,” he said. “Came out here lookin’ for something to do….” He frowned at the book in his hands and tossed it onto the coffee table. “And readin’ ain’t too interesting right now.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What are you doin’ out here?” he asked, wanting to take the attention off of him. Although, her wandering around in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly new or surprising.

“The same, I suppose,” she said, tapping her foot. “Lookin’ for something to do.” Her hands trailed up to rest on her shoulders, her forearms covering up her chest and neck.

“Are you cold?” he asked, noticing how uncomfortable she seemed. “I can throw another log on the fire.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Her hands fell into her lap, and she stiffened. “I’m not.”

Jack watched her for a moment, the corner of his lip pulling back in dissatisfaction as she squirmed uncomfortably. Her eyebrows rose as he suddenly stood up and walked behind the sofa, making his way to a coat rack a few feet away.

The only article hanging on it was one of the old shawls his mother used to wear nearly every day, now untouched for months. He hesitated, biting his lip as the thought of disturbing the thing caused a wave of sorrow to wash over him. But as he glanced back at Lilly, he knew his mother would have wanted him to do this.

He pulled it off the rack and shook it out before returning to Lilly and gently draping it over her shoulders. She stared at him incredulously as he quietly sat down on the sofa next to her— as if he’d just wrapped a sheet of pure gold around her. In his head, maybe he had.

“I—” she stammered, pulling the fabric tighter around her shoulders. She shook her head. “Thank you.”

Jack shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. 

“Y’know…” she said after a few minutes of silence, “I do have somethin’ we could do ‘til morning if you’re up for it.” 

“Okay,” he agreed without bothering to ask what she was talking about first. He’d do anything to make the time pass faster.

“Gimme a second.”

She leapt up and rushed to the master bedroom, rooting around in there for a short while before returning with a moderately-sized wooden box in her hands. She set it down on the coffee table then sat down in the chair across from him and grinned.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a chess set,” she explained as she flipped open the latches on the box and began pulling pieces out and setting them up. “I used to spend hours playing this with my brother when we were younger. But here lately, I’ve only been able to play against myself. I can’t actually remember the last time I had someone else to play with….”

She paused and chuckled sheepishly. “Wow, that sounds… really pathetic when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jack assured. If that was pathetic, he’d hate to know what he was.

She smiled at him and shook her head. “Anyway, I’m sorry for rambling again.” She refocused on the chess board, setting up the final piece before gently pushing the board closer to him. “Do you know how to play?”

“Vaguely,” he said. “You might need to give me a little refresher first.”

Lilly nodded. “I can do that. Here.” She carefully rotated the board around, the pieces she’d set up wobbling, threatening to topple over. “You can be white. I’ll remind you how to play and go easy on you for a couple games. Then we can start playin’ for real.” A smirk appeared on her face. “And whoever loses the most games can cook breakfast in the morning.”

“So you’re gonna show me how to play, then make me cook you breakfast when you beat me?” he asked lightheartedly, raising an eyebrow. “Is that fair?”

“It is when I’ve cooked every day since we’ve gotten here.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

Lilly snickered and leaned forward, turning her attention to the chess board. Jack looked down at it as well, listening as she began pointing at the pieces and reminding him of the different ways they can move.

As she explained, his eyes left the board and floated up to her face. Her soft features were illuminated by the glowing fire, and the shawl wrapped around her shoulders was slipping down on one side. He felt warmth spread through his core and down to his fingertips as he watched her lips move.

She was pretty. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it before, not in such simple, blatant terms. And he would still never admit it out loud— he didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. But it had become hard for him to ignore.

He also couldn’t help but notice the quietness that had fallen over his mind since she came into the room— a stark contrast to the internal chaos he had been experiencing before. It was strange; he didn’t understand how she did it.

Lilly looked up, locking eyes with him as she finished going over the game’s rules. “Okay?” she asked, checking to make sure he understood.

Jack nodded.

“Good.” She grinned and waved a hand at the board. “You’re going first, then.”

He took his eyes off of her and furrowed his brows at the chess pieces. Without putting much thought into it, he moved one of his pawns forward to begin their first game.

———

They spent the rest of the night chatting and playing the game, stopping about an hour after sunrise when they finally grew bored of it. In the end, they had both won an equal number of games— though Jack suspected Lilly had manufactured that outcome— and thus ended up splitting the breakfast-making duties. He fried up some eggs from the chicken coop— the only food they ever had on hand— while she worked on brewing up a pot of coffee. 

The food was scarfed down the second it was taken out of the pan, gone long before the coffee was ready. Jack honestly could’ve skipped the coffee. He had never been a big fan of it. But he knew Lilly was dead set on having it, so he stayed in the kitchen with her, waiting for it to be ready.

Her excitement when the timer finally went off was frankly adorable, and he chuckled as she eagerly pulled the kettle off the stove.

“Want some?” she asked as she filled up a cup.

“Sure.”

She handed the cup to him and grabbed herself a new one, filling it up as well.

Lilly settled in front of the kitchen window, leaning against the counter and holding her steaming cup of coffee in both hands. Jack stood beside her, resting his own cup on the counter and loosely holding onto the handle.

She blew on her coffee, took a sip, and sighed contentedly. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

He shrugged. “Same as every other day, I guess.”

She gave a disappointed sigh and looked out the window.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Nothing. Just getting tired of cutting grass and pulling weeds by the barn all day,” she said. “A little change of scenery would be nice.”

Jack scratched his chin. “I guess we could do something different today. There’s plenty to do.”

“Like what?”

He pursed his lips as he thought over the list of things that still needed to be done around the ranch. Most of it likely wouldn’t have appealed to her— chopping firewood, going hunting so they could stop eating eggs for almost every meal. More fence repairs, more monotonous weed pulling. Eventually, they would also have to fix up the barn if they ever wanted any more animals, but Jack meant to put that off for as long as he could.

There was only one other thing he could think of.

“Why don’t we clean up the gazebo?” he suggested. “I remember you was wantin’ to do that when you first got here.”

It was probably the least important task on their to-do list, but it was different, and it was easy. Plus, it would be nice to have the space to sit and hang out outside again.

“Sure. I like that plan.” Lilly smiled and clinked her cup against his. “I’m touched that you remember I said that.”

“Well, like I said before, rememberin’ things is my curse,” he joked half-heartedly. 

“Ah.” She chuckled. “Right.”

Jack rested his elbows against the counter and stared into the steam rising from his still-full cup of coffee.

“So… you ever gonna drink any of that?” Lilly asked, nodding at his cup as she went for another sip from hers.

He wrinkled his nose and admitted, “...I don’t really like coffee.”

She snorted, covering her mouth to keep her drink from spilling out. “What? Why’d you take it then, if you don’t like it?”

“I’m… not completely sure,” he said, frowning down at the cup and giving the liquid inside a swirl. “I guess… ‘cause you like it?”

Her smile grew. “What does it matter what I like?” 

“Well…” he started, only to immediately trail off when he realized he didn’t know the answer to that himself. Why did it matter? “I don’t know,” he thought out loud to avoid an awkward silence. “I just… I like you.”

Lilly’s cheeks flushed, and she breathed out a laugh and bowed her head.

Jack cringed as he realized how oddly that had come out. Why couldn’t he have just stayed quiet? He stammered, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be strange. I meant—”

“You’re not,” she said, smiling down at the cup in her hands. “I like you too.”

Jack blinked at her a few times, unsure of how to respond. She looked up and winked at him as she lifted her cup to her lips. He turned his head, trying to hide the redness he was sure was spreading across his face.

It seemed to be a talent of his, making a fool of himself in front of her. All he meant was that she was a good friend to him, and because of that, he wanted to be respectful of the things she liked.

He stole a glance at her. She had resumed looking out the window, the soft smile on her face illuminated by the sunlight leaking inside. Something in his chest stirred as he looked at her, and he swallowed and stared down at his hands. 

Was that what he meant?

Before he could think too hard about it, Lilly suddenly asked, “Who is this?”

He lifted his head. “Huh?”

She set her coffee down and pointed out the window.

Confused, Jack leaned in closer to her, craning his neck to look outside. His heart sank to his feet when he saw what she was talking about. 

Outside were two men— one quite a bit taller than the other— slowly making their way down the path towards the house, looking around intently as they walked. They were dressed up in suits, adorned at the breast with tiny, glinting badges. Their appearances left no doubt in Jack’s mind about who they were.

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping backwards.

He grabbed Lilly’s shoulders and yanked her away from the window, pulling her out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Letting go of her, he approached the back door of the house, careful to keep his footsteps quiet.

“Jack, what is going on!?” Lilly asked, bewildered.

Jack shushed her and shoved his ear against the door, listening as the sound of feet crunching in the grass drew closer to the house. 

“Why do we even bother coming out here anymore?” he heard one of the men complain, his voice muffled by the door. “No one’s ever around; this is a waste of time.”

“Maybe not,” said another man. “There’s a horse over by the barn this time.”

Cursing under his breath, Jack backed away from the door. He grabbed Lilly’s wrist and tugged her with him as he retreated to the other end of the hall. She questioned him again, but the anxiety rushing through his head kept him from processing what she’d said.

Then came the dreaded knock on the door.

He had spent countless hours obsessing over what he would do in that situation, but now that it was happening, he wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, he could ignore them and pretend no one was home, but they had seen his horse. If he didn’t answer, they would just keep coming back every day until he did. If he did answer, who knows what would happen— probably nothing good. 

Suddenly, an idea came to him.

Turning to Lilly, he asked in a frantic, hushed tone, “Can you answer the door?”

“What? Why me?” she asked, widening her eyes at him. “I don’t wanna talk to them! Why are they here?”

“I can’t—” Jack took a deep breath, blowing it out through his mouth in an attempt to stay calm. He clasped his hands together. “Just— just open the door and see what they want. Please.”

She gaped at him. “And say what!?”

Another, more forceful knock echoed throughout the house.

“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Just… make them go away! Tell ‘em I ain’t here!”

A voice called out from the other side of the door, announcing the presence of law enforcement, and the door knob was shaken. Thank God he had remembered to lock it the night before….

Lilly went rigid and quiet, staring wide-eyed at the door. Jack pushed himself into her line of sight and gently grabbed onto her upper arms to break her out of her stupor. He looked her straight in the eyes, silently and shamelessly pleading with her, begging her to help him.

She swallowed and shook her head. “Okay.” 

Jack let go of her, giving her a look of immense gratitude.

“Okay,” she repeated, nervously shaking out her hands. “I’ll… try.” 

He nodded. That was all he wanted.

While Lilly headed for the door, Jack scurried down the hall and tucked into his parents’ old bedroom. He knelt down by one of the windows, positioning himself at an angle where he could see the door and the men standing in front of it. 

After a few agonizing seconds, the door cracked open.

“Oh,” the taller of the two men uttered, raising his eyebrows as Lilly poked her head out. He shared a glance with the other man and motioned for him to follow as he stepped back to stand in the dirt at the foot of the little set of stairs. Clearing his throat, he turned his sights back on Lilly. “Hello.”

The door creaked as Lilly opened it farther. “Hi,” she said cautiously, gripping onto the door frame. 

“Sorry to disturb you so early, miss. I’m Agent Winder with the Bureau of Investigation, and this is my partner”— he jutted a thumb out at the shorter man— “Agent Jameson. How are you doing today?”

Jack couldn’t help but scoff at that. He wondered if they would have been so polite had he been the one to answer the door.

Lilly’s response was simple and aloof, though Jack knew her well enough to hear the anxiety behind her words: “What do you want?”

The man frowned, dropping his cordial demeanor for the cold formality that Jack was more accustomed to experiencing from them. “We’re looking for a Jack Marston,” he said, his voice lower than before. “He’s supposed to live here.”

“He’s not here right now,” Lilly answered before he had finished speaking. 

“Well, where is he? We need to speak with him urgently.”

“Why?” she asked, a tinge of genuine curiosity breaking through her standoffishness. “Is he in trouble?”

Jack held his breath, wishing she hadn’t asked that. He didn’t want them to tell her about Ross. As much as he dreaded telling her himself, having her find out from these assholes would be so much worse. 

Still, he was curious what their answer would be, and he leaned closer to the window to make sure he caught it. 

“Not at the moment, no. We just want to talk to him.”

“So where is he?” the shorter agent finally spoke up, his voice deeper and more irritated than the other’s.

“He… went out of town around a month ago,” Lilly answered slowly. “He hired me to look after the property while he’s gone.”

“To where?” he pressed, his voice rising.

Lilly recoiled a bit at his tone, and the back of Jack’s neck prickled with anger. As far as they were concerned, she hadn’t done anything wrong; they had no right to speak so harshly to her. But unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He had to remain hidden.

She hesitated before responding, “Boston.”

The men gave each other a look of alarm, and one asked, “What part? What’s he doing all the way up there?”

“When is he coming back?” the other man added.

Lilly froze, retreating further into herself as the barrage of questions hit her. “Look, I-I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” she said, her nerves beginning to show in her voice. “He didn’t tell me anything, just asked me to do him a favor and pop in every once in a while to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Would you mind if we came in for a few minutes?” the taller agent suddenly asked, stepping back up onto the first stair. “Have a quick look around?”

“No, you can't,” she said firmly, the door squealing as she abruptly pulled it closer to her. When he raised an eyebrow at her response, she explained, “I-I don’t think that J— that Mr. Marston— would appreciate me lettin’ strangers into his home.”

The man humphed at her answer and stepped back again.

 “Why do you need to come in anyway?” Lilly asked. “I told you where he is. What else do you want?”

“Nothing,” he said after a brief pause. “That was all.” He shared another look with his partner then nodded at Lilly. “Thank you for the information, miss, er— What was your name?”

Lilly hesitated and looked down at her feet. “It’s, um…”

“No need to think about it,” the deeper voice chimed in. “Just your name—”

“It’s Lettie,” she said, snapping her head back up.

“Lettie what?”

“Hall. Lettie Hall.”

He nodded. “Jameson, write that down,” he said, leaning towards the other agent, who started digging in his breast pocket for a small pad of paper. 

“Spell it,” the man demanded, readying his pen against the paper.

Lilly did as he asked, and he scribbled down the false name. 

“Well, thank you again, Miss Hall,” the taller agent said. “We’ll be in touch should we have any more questions for you.”

“Okay,” Lilly replied, voice shaking slightly.

“You have a fine day.” 

Lilly gave them a single nod in response and slowly shut the door on them.

Jack let out a shaky sigh of relief as the men finally turned their backs on the door and strolled back to the path. As they rounded the corner out of sight, he stumbled to his feet and backed away from the window before rushing out of the bedroom. He needed to make sure they really left.

His shoulder clipped Lilly, who stood leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself, as he scurried out into the hallway. He didn’t give her so much as a second glance before dashing down the hall, clumsily dodging the furniture that littered his path to the dining room window at the other end of the house.

Standing off to the side of the window, he pulled the curtain open a mere inch or two and peeked outside. He spotted the men not too far away from the window, talking amongst themselves as they walked down the path that led out of Beecher’s Hope.

He put his ear closer to the window and held his breath to hear their muffled conversation:

“…swear to Christ if that asshole Fordham makes us go all the way out to Boston now…” one of the men— Jack couldn’t quite tell which one— said.

The other sighed. “You know he’s going to. He’s getting desperate to put this thing to rest.”

“Maybe he oughta haul his pompous ass up there instead then,” was the agent’s irate reply. “This is his problem.”

Jack strained to hear the other man’s response, but he was only able to make out a few stray words that didn’t mean much of anything when put together. Eventually, as they got farther away, he could hear nothing beyond the wind that blew over the ranch. Still, he continued to watch the men as they slowly shrank into the distance.

When he could no longer see them, he pulled away from the window, letting the curtain flutter back into place. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the wall and took a deep breath as he tried to calm his racing heart.

They were gone now. They believed he was over a thousand miles away; they’d have no reason to come back— not anytime soon. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on what would happen after soon passed. For now, Lilly had gotten rid of them, and that was all he cared about.

He lifted his head. Lilly. Somewhere in his spiral of anxiety, he had forgotten about her— forgotten to consider how stressful the situation was for her too. She actually had to talk to those idiots. Guilt bubbling up in his stomach, he spun around. 

He spotted her sitting quietly on the sofa, slouched over and staring at her hands with furrowed brows. Immediately, he made his way over to her.

She didn’t look up as he approached, nor did she look up as he stood awkwardly by, staring down at her.

“They’re gone,” he said. “I— Thank you.”

“Sure,” Lilly mumbled. She sounded miles away, distracted by the gears turning inside her head, trying to process what had just happened. She looked up at him. “Why are they lookin’ for you? What do they want?” Her voice trembled slightly, and she eyed him with a suspicion that made him feel cold.

“I don’t…” Jack looked down at his feet and swallowed hard. He couldn’t bring himself to look back up, to look her in the eyes as he lied to her again. So he murmured to the floor, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she asked, an unexpected harshness rising in her voice. 

He flinched at her tone and snapped his head up, widening his eyes at her.

“You don’t know,” she continued with a sardonic laugh as she stood up off the sofa. “Is that why you freaked out and hid the second you saw ‘em?”

His heart crept up into his throat, and he stared back at her, dumbstruck. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to him that way. He had gotten so used to her turning a blind eye to his strange behavior, accepting his non-explanations with little more than a raised eyebrow. He half-expected to receive that same reaction this time, but he supposed everyone had a breaking point.

He wanted to be angry at her for it, but all he felt was a sinking in his chest.

“At what point are you gonna cut the shit, Jack?” she asked, throwing her hands up in the air. “Do you think I don’t notice you hidin’ something from me? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

He stared stupidly back at her, unable to find his voice.

“If… if you don’t trust me,” she started, her voice cracking as the anger in her eyes turned to hurt, “maybe I should just go.” She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her back to him, facing the door.

“No,” Jack croaked, finally remembering how to speak. He reached out to her, freezing with his hand hovering a few inches from her shoulder. “I didn’t— I was—” He fumbled around for the right words, growing angry with himself when he couldn’t find them.

He groaned, threw himself down onto the sofa, and buried his head in his hands, tightly latching onto fistfuls of his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I was gonna tell you. I swear I was.” His grip on his hair tightened. “But I didn’t know how, okay? I don’t want you to leave. You—”

He bit his tongue as the rest of the sentence played out in his head: You’re all I have. One of his hands untangled itself from his hair and slid down his face to cover his mouth.

He glanced at her, immediately peeling his eyes away when he saw her staring back at him as if he were a lost puppy. He had never felt more pathetic— more ashamed and embarrassed— than he did in that moment.

The sofa creaked as she sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for yellin’. Just— what is going on?” Her voice had softened yet a hint of exasperation remained.

Knowing he couldn’t keep this up any longer, Jack groaned and pulled his hand away from his mouth. He slouched forward and stared at the floor.

“If I had to guess,” he began, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully, “they’re lookin’ for me because they think I might’ve shot some old asshole down in Mexico. Some retired government agent that… knew my pa.”

“...Did you?”

He slouched over farther, nearly touching his nose to his knees, and mumbled, “Yes.”

He heard her exhale in shock but kept his head down. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her reaction— to see that pretty face he’d grown so fond of contort in disgust at what he had done. He didn’t want to watch as she got up and left him.

She was quiet for a long time, and to his surprise, she made no moves to get up from the sofa or scoot away from him. His leg began to shake as he waited for her to say something.

Finally, she simply asked, “Why?”

Jack stilled, caught off guard by the question. Or rather, not by the question itself— he’d heard it plenty of times before, from his mother, from Bonnie— but by the way Lilly had asked it. There was no anger, no follow-up rant about how stupid he was for doing it. Just a genuine desire to understand.

He took a moment to consider his response before settling on, “He took everything from me.”

Lilly remained silent, looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate.

Jack explained, “He forced my pa to go out and do his dirty work for him— capture and kill anyone they asked him to. They told him if he did it, they’d leave him alone for good, but if he didn’t, then bad things would happen to my ma and me.” 

He took a deep breath, anger rising inside of him as he recalled everything he’d read in his father’s journal. “So he did everything they asked of him, and they let him go. We all thought that was the end of it.” 

He shook his head and balled up his fists. “But that piece of shit, Ross”— his voice dripped with venom as he spoke the name— “came up to the ranch and killed him anyway. Brought the whole Goddamn army and shot him to pieces right outside of the barn.”

He shuddered and closed his eyes, the image of his father lying bleeding in front of the barn, cradled in his mother’s arm, still vivid in his mind.

“Christ,” Lilly whispered. “That is just… monstrous.”

Jack nodded. “And if that weren’t enough, he killed my ma too— in a way,” he continued. “All her spirit? It died with Pa. And by the time she got sick, she didn’t care no more. She said she was tryin’, said she was doin’ everything she could to get better, but I knew she wasn’t. I knew she didn’t wanna be here anymore.”

It killed him to remember the way his mother faded away after his father died. As much as he had tried to delude himself into thinking otherwise, he knew that she had been buried with him the day he died. The empty husk that floated around the house in the years following was little more than a ghost, desperately yearning for a way back to the home she’d lost.

Jack also couldn’t deny the way Ross had ruined him too. He had been turned into an angry shell of who he used to be. What ever happened to that shy little boy who loved to read? Who loved nature and wanted to help people? Who had big dreams for the future? 

He didn’t even know who that person was anymore— he may as well have been buried with his father too.

He didn’t vocalize these feelings to Lilly, however. He already felt like he’d just ripped his heart out of his chest and tossed it onto the coffee table for her to see. He didn’t care to pull out a knife and start dissecting every last centimeter of it too.

Jack sighed heavily and rubbed his sore chest, bringing the discussion to an end by muttering, “I couldn’t just let everything he did go unpunished. Especially after seein’ how… celebrated he was for it.”

He furrowed his brows and went quiet, staring down at his knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Lilly said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t quite know what to say….”

“Don’t have to say anything.” He sniffled and rubbed his nose. “It doesn't really matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does,” she murmured, scooting closer to him.

She tenderly touched his shoulder and began rubbing small, soothing circles against his skin. And for once, he leaned into the touch, relishing in the tiny bit of comfort it brought him. His reception of the gesture seemed to instill some more confidence in her, and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug.

They stayed that way for a while, neither speaking nor making any effort to move. That was, until Jack broke the silence with a sigh.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “I know it’s a whole lot more than you bargained for. I understand if you don’t wanna stick around anymore.”

She squeezed him then pulled away and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really?” he asked, voice cracking. “You’re gonna stay?” 

Her smile saddened. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?” He shook his head. “I think, at this point, any sensible person would wanna leave.”

She shrugged and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingernails. “Well, I never claimed to be a sensible person.”

Hearing those words made his heart swell. They squashed down that fear of abandonment he had been wrestling with ever since he started to get closer to her. He still didn’t understand why she would stay, but it didn’t really matter all that much. He wasn’t going to question it any further, for fear of making her change her mind.

Lilly asked, “So… what are we gonna do now?”

Jack looked down in thought. Despite the dramatics, nothing had really changed. He knew when he chose to come back to the ranch that the law showing up was a possibility he’d have to face. And the way he planned to face it remained the same. Stay out of sight of the law for as long as possible; then, when that failed, dig his heels into the dirt and vehemently deny any wrongdoing. 

He wasn’t completely sure how Lilly being around would affect things, but his hope was that they would just ignore her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.

Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow himself to be scared off. He couldn’t abandon the ranch again— not after he and Lilly had made so much progress on fixing the place up.

Sighing, he glanced at Lilly and answered, “I guess… we’re gonna wait a few hours to make sure they’re outta here. Then… we’re gonna go clean up the gazebo like we was plannin’.”

“What?” She looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“I said, we’re gonna go clean the—”

“So that’s just that?” she asked, shaking her head. “We’re just gonna… carry on like nothing happened? You’re not gonna do anything?”

“I did say we’d wait a few hours to make sure they leave,” he reminded her with a shrug. “What else can I do?”

“Well… I don’t know. I figured you’d wanna run away or hide somewhere or… something.”

“I was going to,” he admitted. “That was my plan back when I left the city.” His eyes wandered up until they froze on the portrait of his parents that hung above the fireplace. “But I couldn’t,” he told her, brows setting in determination. “I had to— I have to stay here. Long as I play my cards right, they can’t prove I did nothin’ anyway.”

Lilly followed his gaze up to the portrait, taking a moment to silently observe it along with him. 

She put a hand on his shoulder and said with a soft finality, “Then stay we will.”

Jack peeled his eyes off the photograph to look at her, and she gave him a small smile.

“I can’t say I have much experience outwitting the BOI,” she said, “but I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

In any other situation, he may have laughed at that, but he couldn’t find it in him. He only quietly thanked her.

Jack rested his palms on his knees as they fell silent again. The combination of the day’s dramatics, the pouring-out of all the emotions and memories he usually kept locked away, and the lack of sleep the night before had left him feeling exhausted.

“I think,” he said, stroking his forehead, “I need to go lie down alone for a while.”

Lilly nodded. “I understand.”

He stood up and with his back to her, mumbled, “I’ll meet you outside in a few hours.”

With that, he shuffled towards the solitude of his bedroom.

[theresthesnitch]

15 Questions | 15 people

Rules: Answer the 15 questions, then tag 15 people.

Thanks for the tag, @second-sister

Are you named after anyone? At one point in time, I was told I was named after a nurse at my sibling's birth. I've also been told that is false. I've never been given an alternate explanation. I think the answer is no.

When was the last time you cried? When I read that mean anon ask. *Cue Big Weanie by Eminem* Jk, that was the las time I laughed. Honestly, I cry super easily. Like way more than should be possible. I know I teared up at @quietlemonhush's last chapter of gathering home last night (I see you @second-sister) but I think I cried earlier today over a movie? Or a sad post? Eh. I'm fine. Completely normal. NBD.

Do you have kids? I do! I've got two little muchkins who are *literally* the best (they're at daycare right now. ask me when they get home and I guarantee they'll be the worst).

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I've never met her.

What is the first thing you notice about people? If they are wearing clothes (they usually are)

What color are your eyes? A blueish/greenish hazel color. More green than blue.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy ending, for sure, but I like horror too. Only, I'm suuuuuuper picky about my horror movies.

Any special talents? I am talentless.

Where were you born? In a hospital

What are your hobbies? Gestures generally to trash blog. And AO3.

Do you have any pets? See answer to #3. (Jk, I also have two dogs and a spouse)

What sports do you play/have you played? Excuse you. I was in marching band. I've played basketball, softball, and volleyball, but I'm generally not a sports ball person.

How tall are you? Tall enough to reach the top shelf but not the back cup in it.

Favorite Subjects in School? History and English. Debate.

Dream Job? A baker, but not the kind that has to wake up at 4 am.

15 people is a lot. bit uncalled for really. How about the last 15 people in my notifications? @futuristiclawuniversity @remusblake @condoneii @tremendouspolicestrawberry @curlyy-hair-dont-care @second-sister (lol, from this post) @printhomo @felixantares @msalexwp @hannahendoxox @nerwenn @rupalovegood @demidreamer @eyra @spindrifters