#also if there are some cringe notes... that's the filter's fault

[jedi-valjean]

death note musical but L has his voice filter

[helenazbmrskai]

Cat And Mouse: The Noble Tale (M)

Pairing – Rich! Taehyung x Reader

Genre – Romance, Roommates To Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Best Friends To Lovers

Summary – [Charity balls are always the same. Expensive champagne and nobles staring at you and Taehyung left and right, however, this time you have to thank his mother for intervening if it weren’t for her you two would still play that game of cat and mouse.]

Warnings – smut, teasing, vaginal fingering, blowjob (road head), ruined orgasm, implied penetrative sex, dom! tae for like 5 seconds, tae has a rich bitch mother in this fic and doesn’t like oc

Word Count – (7,5k)

Author note. I edited this bad boy so it got longer as I added 1.5k words plus and tried to catch any mistakes and errors (but there’s probably some that I didn’t see anyway) also changed the header. Please enjoy this version as well!

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Internally cringing away from your reflection, you defeatedly let the elevator’s heavy metal doors shut in front of your tired form, well, you can always call for it again. You aren’t a fan of small talk either so it’s a bonus that you decided not to get in with the old lady from room 45, she’s sweet and you like the cat pictures she shows you proudly but today is not the day that cute animals can cheer you up.

You mechanically try to rake your fingers through your hair before realising that the high ponytail you arranged this morning gets in the way. That was the only solution so you could leave the apartment on time without opting for a quick shower first. Greasy hair was the least of your concerns on the long lists of worries.

Your mood was as shitty as your appearance and you almost turn around to leave when someone on the sixth floor holds up the elevator for too long, you don’t have it in yourself to glare at the businessman that steps out nearly running you over, and normally you’re not someone to let things like that slide without comment.

Something must be wrong with you, or you’re just too tired to care. Shaking away the thought you stick a hand inside, near the sensors so the doors don’t manage to slam shut in front of your face again and finally walk inside, using unnecessary strength to push the button to the fifth floor, you think being rich would be nice.

Not that you have any right to complain, your friend helps you out plenty of times with his money, standing inside the lavish building with nice interior design and secure neighbourhood with guards and front desk receptionists is speaking volumes itself, even if you look out of place with your unwashed hair and zombie shaming looks the woman that lives next door still makes sure she sends you a pleasant enough smile as a greeting it’s only you that send back a grimace that you can hardly call a smile.

It’s not your fault that she caught you on a bad day, normally you are not this swallowed up in self-pity and despair but the lack of sleep you got on these few days started to take its toll on your body and mind.

You’re not even sure how you managed to wake up this morning when the time you finally closed your eyes provided you with two hours of sleep at most. If anyone asked you, you would deny but hearing Taehyung kill zombies in his video game at four in the morning filtering through your shared wall calmed you down and quieted your overwhelming thoughts and even managed to make you feel better that you are not the only one up.

Dismissed the idea immediately to knock on his door no matter how much your fingers itched to turn the doorknob of your room and knock on his, he’s your friend so you’re positive he would have beckoned you inside with that cute smile of his but the thought that he endures so much of you lately made you reconsider.

You don’t want to be a burden. Right now he might not see you as one but eventually, he will realise that you’re just a waste of oxygen in the apartment. He’s not even making you pay rent, you literally are useless.

You might be showering him with your undying support and love but that’s literally it that you can offer.

His biggest dream is to become a video game developer one day instead of the head of his father’s phone company and that created great issues as following his dream not only crushed his parent's expectations of him but he lost some good bachelor friends to that so Taehyung packed his bags and moved out of his very expensive penthouse his parents rented for him to chase his ’delusions’ as his parents liked to call it.

His friends were not good for him (feeding Taehyung with their greed for money and status) as they lived up to the title of ’snob rich kids’ you saw some of them and you could tell with one look at their faces that they were born with silver spoons up their asses.

Even if later on he realised that they were up for no good Taehyung still felt devastated when they turned their backs on him once his income started to lack even a single digit at the end since his father told him he’ll not support his childish dreams, the money stopped circulating. He had enough to move to a more manageable apartment and later he found a way to earn his own money.

At first glance, Taehyung didn’t seem much different at that time.

He’s too friendly for his own good, he’s often perceived as naive and he easily gives his thrust away to anyone who shows him a big enough smile not considering the consequences that it can lead to eventual betrayal. He’s an honest person like that. He wears his heart on his sleeve giving everyone second chances, that’s the rich quality of his personality that you recognised first and you cherish him for it, even though sometimes you have to scold him for his too trusting nature.

On the other hand, he’s even more than that to you. He tries to mend conflicts by playing rock paper scissors and can’t cook for shit like a spoilt brat but he has his moments when he can act like his age.

Remembering that time when a man grabbed your butt while you were working as a waitress. Taehyung happened to witness it and moved in front of you instinctively even so that this man was twice his size, he stood proudly defending you in front of the people that failed to do so as not even your boss helped you.

You often feel like you don’t deserve his friendship as you always think you benefit from your relationship more than he does.

The ding of the elevator announced your arrival with the automatic doors sliding open the next second and you moved before you had to stop the doors from closing again on you already digging through your bag to find your keys.

The place smelled like the ocean scented fabric softener you bought last week and your eyes easily found the rack of clothes hanging neatly on the dryer at the corner of the living room nearby the open window.

You hesitated at first to share dirty laundry baskets howbeit you soon realised that doing laundry separately made the water bill extend in number unnecessarily so you relented and permit him to handle your undergarments and dirty socks just like you had the right to touch his boxers and shovel it into the washing machine.

You told yourself not long ago how you don’t want to be a burden to him but thanks to the exhaustion and gloomy nature of your thoughts swimming inside your head it begins to crush you under their weights. Start to lay unbearable paperweights on your heart so despite all the warnings going off inside your head, after kicking your shoes off at the entrance your limbs carry you to Taehyung’s room instead of your own.

The room is dark because of how tightly the blinds are drawn and the air stuffy when you enter trying hard not to make any sound that might wake him up, sweat and his favourite cologne mixing in the air. However, you pay no mind to it as you drag your feet further inside until your toes meet with the edge of the king-sized bed.

You help yourself to the right side of it since Taehyung always sleeps on the left side. Taehyung stirs in his sleep when he faintly feels the extra weight added on the mattress beside him moving automatically closer to wind his arms around your waist.

He not so secretly likes when you sleep next to him, he has a habit of hugging something to sleep better and you always smell nice and inviting, the best thing about you however is that you’re the perfect size for him to comfortably cuddle with. Like your body was made for him to hold all along.

Letting out a silent sigh you let yourself feel comfortable in his embrace, the heat he radiates warms up your skin and you absentmindedly move your hand to play with his hair, trying to tame his soft brown locks that are sticking to every direction. Taehyung hums into your skin peacefully holding you and pulling you closer until your body is moulded with him perfectly with his head resting on your heaving chest lulling him back to sleep.

You slowly follow his lead and drift off to sleep, letting your tired mind relax, feeling the warm huffs of air periodically leaving his slightly parted lips, tickling your bare skin. Your eyes are closing in their own accord recognising the calming presence holding onto you securely. In your dream clouded mind, the sudden thought appears that things should be always like this. This is peaceful.

You open your eyes before him even though it’s in the late afternoon almost nighttime. Nothing’s new about seeing his closed eyelids, as he surely likes to take his sweet time waking up. Sometimes you wish you could be a heavy sleeper like him. In your sleep, you must have moved around because you no longer were in the position you fell asleep with Taehyung’s head resting on your chest, he still had his hands around your waist but your head was tucked under his chin while both of your bodies rested in a sideways position, thighs pressed up against each other ankles knocking together.

This makes your escape more challenging to carry out as no matter how you try to wrestle out of his hold Taehyung doesn’t budge, he’s stubborn even in his sleep to keep you close.

”Stop moving around.” Taehyung’s voice is deep and raspy, heavy with sleep, to make a point he tightens his hands around your waist so he can stop your movements altogether there’s no more space between the two of you by the time he plants a lingering kiss – his mind is still mussy from sleep – onto the top of your head before nosing around your hairline inhaling your natural scent, you dare to look bashful when you remember the fact that it's been a couple of days since you washed your hair and suddenly you’re able to find the strength within you to push him away.

A displeased groan vibrates from the depths of his chest ready to curl his fingers around your wrist before you could get out of reach and drag you back next to him. The cold air hits his body once yours is no longer warms his side and he reaches out to grab you, your skin is soft under his fingertips when he makes contact but he misjudged the angle as you landed right on top of him. You’re not particularly heavy but he makes extra noises to annoy you that earns an eye roll and a hit.

”I’m hungry so let me go before I bite a chunk out of you instead.” A breathy chuckle that follows your statement seem to dismiss your empty threats in no time but Taehyung lets you go when you playfully pull at his long curly hair.

He decides to tag along since he feels absolutely famished after the long gaming night he had with the boys.

”Nope.” You dig your pointer finger into his chest when he tries to exit his room after you and he looks like a confused puppy when you deny him more cuddles. To enlighten him you give instructions to head for a shower first since he stinks like he just rolled around in contaminated takeout pizza and a bucket of sweat the exact smell that greets you whenever he spends nights holed up in his room for over 24 hours (exactly what he did by the way) and tell him to let some fresh air inside because if he stinks his room is probably worse.

He can’t argue with that as he opens up the windows the fresh air helps subduing his headache.

You always know what he needs he thinks with a shy smile that graces his features at the thought before fishing out clean clothes to retreat inside the connected bathroom and wash up.

You can’t wait to have a shower as well since you feel dirty and smelly that definitely doesn’t help to lift your mood but it has to wait because your stomach can’t take any more minutes without something filling the emptiness.

You prepare a simple and quick omelette that you shovel into your mouth within seconds, you almost choke on the bites very unladylike considering how fast you inhale the whole meal not waiting for Taehyung to join you. 

”Smells good.” Taehyung beams when he smells the food. Droplets of water wets the material of his shirt, it slides down from the tips of his hair following the line of his neck before it gets soaked up by his white shirt, the strong smell of his body wash enters your nostrils even from a distance.

Taehyung smells nice naturally but you can’t deny that when he is freshly out of the shower he looks and smells tempting can’t settle down if you want to hug him while inhaling his scent or lick the droplets of water from his neck tasting his clean skin. Ok, that’s way ahead of yourself, but you can’t help it.

”Anything smells good to you unless you were the one who made it.” You snort, the jabs at his ego serves as your coping mechanism when your thoughts are about to take dangerous turns you distract yourself with insults hoping that Taehyung will never learn the true meaning behind your words.

If you keep being mean he won’t think you’re head over heels for him, right? That’s your tactic.

He's clearly not someone who cares about financial statuses – or more like differences – because if he did, you two wouldn’t be friends in the first place but making him a potential love interest.

You’re not insane yet. Your fates are cross starred from the beginning not just because he is way out of your league (status apart, he’s a softhearted person, considerate, funny and adorable in his own stupidly endearing way) the list could go on why he is apparently too good for you.

What can you even offer him? Anyone can cook him nice meals and you’re sure someone would support his dreams even if you’re not, he’s so easy to fall in love with that anyone would be happy to have him.

You sometimes fantasize about him telling you, that all of the above might be true but he only wants to eat your meals and have your support and even your love to himself. He cherishes you as a friend you can’t possibly imagine how good of a lover he would be. If only things would be different.

It gets harder and harder with each passing day spent with him by your side to stop those thoughts from spiralling out of your control. You know he would reject your confession delicately making sure he tells you sweet lies so it wouldn’t hurt you that much. He would keep you as a friend but things would never be the same after that before eventually, he drifts away.

You’re not ready to flush this carefully crafted friendship down the toilet and you probably never will. He might not know you’re in love with him but he sure knows your weakness is his pleading, round star-filled puppy eyes.

”Your parents hate me! Their blood pressure will be over the roof as soon as they see me at your side. If you want to witness my death there are more civil ways to do it. You don’t have to throw me in front of the sharks like that!”

Tae finds your little outburst entertaining in some sort of way. He even laughed at your dramatic approach until he realised you meant every word since you didn’t crack a smile as he anticipated at the end and instead met with your panicked eyes.

”I can only bear those events because you’re with me. Would you really let me go alone? I thought we were a team!”

Well, he doesn’t have to say it like that. You’re a sucker for those kinds of compliments and you can already feel your strongly expressed ’no’ turn into a shy ’maybe’ not after a full minute passing after your outburst. You hate he has this much power over you.

”We are a team.” You sigh, there’s no way you can talk your way out of this so you admit your defeat quickly and start mentally preparing yourself because this will be a hella long night. At least he should have given you a heads up and not drop this bomb at you on the same day, even the day before would have been nice.

”Wait, I don’t have a dress to wear!” You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously when Taehyung chimes in swallowing the last bites of his late breakfast, that’s like probably dinner and motions for you to follow him back to his room.

”I hope you will like it I put a lot of thought into what to get you.” Tae shyly smiles under his nose opening his closet to reveal your dress to you. It has a silky touch to it that you’re already in love with, the dress itself reaching mid-thigh if you’re not mistaken and it’s in the shade of a nice emerald green colour, you don’t want to know how much does this pretty thing cost. You keep looking between the dress and Taehyung and he takes your silence as a bad sign as he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

”I love it, it’s just that you didn’t have to do this. I don’t want you to spend your money on me.” The concern shows in your expressive orbs, he sees that you’re grateful but he sees the guilt behind it as well.

He knows what’s inside that pretty little head of yours before you got the chance to tell him.

”You’re not using me Y/N. I got this for you because I thought you would look pretty in it, it’s a gift.” Taehyung cradles your shoulder in his hand to meet your gaze, you feel the sincerity behind his words and there’s something you see in his eyes while you explore the depths of his darkness.

”I know my parents called you a gold digger but we both know it’s not true. I know you didn’t befriend me because of my money, you’re the only true friend that I’ve ever had in my life so don’t let them tell you such things.”

When Taehyung says things like that your heart squeezes inside your chest uncomfortably, even if the sentiment warms you, you truly don’t deserve the affectionate words. You’re a liar, you don’t consider him your friend for a while now and here he is calling you his first real friend. What would he think of you if he found out your not so friendly feelings for him?

You’re aware of the fact that Taehyung’s parents just say stuff to hurt you so you would eventually give up on their son because they think if you don’t support him anymore he would eventually crawl back to them and succumb to their wishes.

It only hurts because you think you don’t deserve him as much as his parents think, you might not be a gold digger since he helps you out of his good heart’s will but it still feels wrong to depend on him this much.

The guilt is not enough to change your mind, you stay because you can’t imagine a scenario when Taehyung is not by your side.

”I’ll be by your side the whole night! I promise I won’t let them separate you from me again, they had no right to insult you like that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

You nod embracing him in a tight hug to cover your crestfallen expression, he reciprocates the affection immediately and you calmly inhale his comforting scent resting your head on his shoulder for a few minutes before slowly pulling away.

”They can have you over my dead body, so don’t worry about things like that. I’m a big girl I can handle some mean people spouting nonsense.” You show him a big smile as you do what you can do best, mask your real feelings to make him feel better, you know he feels responsible because of that night his parents tried to scare you away. He apologises even though it’s not something he’s entitled to do.

You’re more than happy and ready to fight for him if this life he lives with you makes him happy. Even if the day comes when your paths can’t cross anymore, you’ll be content with the thought that you got lucky enough to experience this friendship with him.

Inspecting your figure in front of the body-sized mirror hours later you stress over your imperfect features although you’re aware that nothing is there that you can do to please his parents you still try.

You smooth the wrinkles of the silk with your hands that hug your body modestly, looking at your finished makeup you add the final touch of your favourite lip balm when you hear a knock on your door.

”Come in.” You call out since other than Taehyung no one would knock on your door this late he’s probably here to fetch you so you two could go.

Looking around you locate your heels at the foot of the bed and bends slightly to pick them up at the same time that Taehyung turns the doorknob having a great view of your cleavage at that angle, not flashing him entirely just showing more than he ever saw of you. Taehyung thinks you have nice proportions and he can’t say anything else considering the swell of your breasts. You smile up at him so innocently that he feels bad about his dirty thoughts, not changing the fact that he thinks your breasts look beautiful in this dress he just only hopes no one will see what he did he will make sure to bend down for you to pick up something if it’s necessary.

”Do you need help with your tie?” You giggle when you spot the item hanging loosely around his neck. Taehyung nods in confirmation but looks away quickly when you step so close to him he’s fine being close to you normally but the previous encounter that you’re not even aware of makes him act all shy all of the sudden.

”You..” Taehyung gulps when you look up at him, waiting for him to continue what he started but he feels incredibly shy around you. After you’re finished with the neat knot you rearrange his collar with your hands letting your fingers glide along the lines of his shoulder blades and you swear you feel him shiver under your touch.

”I, what?” Tilting your head to the side curiously you remove your touch from his shoulder that shakes him up to finally tell you.

”You look so pretty in this dress.” His long hair prevents you from seeing as his ears begin to turn pink with embarrassment.

He doesn’t look half bad himself but you don’t tell him that instead, you giggle like a high schooler and that makes Taehyung smile at you affectionately.

His hair is prettily curled looking invitingly soft in your room’s dim lights taunting you to touch it so you listen curling a few strands behind his ears gently. Every man looks good wearing a nice suit and a tie but Taehyung is an entirely different standard.

After he showed up in your life you can’t help but compare every possible suitor to him and in the end, no one can beat Taehyung. A guy can be nice but he’ll be nicer, he can be good looking but you only find Taehyung breathtakingly handsome.

”We should hurry, we’re running late.” Hearing your statement Taehyung’s eyes widen in realisation as his gaze narrows on the clock, you giggle again seeing his mortified face but step into your shoes so the two of you can avoid being any more late than you already are. A true gentleman that he is, Taehyung offers his arm to help you balance on your heels and you happily leech onto him.

Not even the silence is awkward with Taehyung sitting beside you, watching as he drives the both of you to the charity ball his slim fingers operating the wheel to take a turn getting closer to the destination.

Your growing nerves start to get the better of you be that as it may your companion is attentive, tuned to the smallest twitch of your muscles he takes your hand in his to squeeze rubbing small shapes into your skin helping you unwind.

”Do you trust me?” Taehyung parks the car before twisting his body to face you in the confined space of his car, seeing the open vulnerable look in his eyes, you have no doubts that you certainly do trust him, so you nod with a small smile.

”I wonder what your mother schemed up this time around.” The futile attempt of a joke was a way for you to cut through the thick tension, even though Taehyung tried hard to appear as confident before you and nonchalant about the event, you can sense his nervousness radiate off of him when he grabbed your hand, you saw them shake he was getting comfort by touching you as much as it helped you calm down.

He’s not nervous directly because of the event, the people who normally attend these kinds of parties he’s not so fond of meeting. News spread like the plague in the medieval period between rich and powerful people and he’s tired of listening to them questioning him about his life choices, subtly trying to tell him he should have chosen more wisely and it’s not too late to stop this phase of rebellious behaviour and the fact that brings him the most discomfort that he doesn’t like the stares they give you.

”I feel like I should say sorry in advance.” The chuckle is humourless and you grab his hand before he can move forward.

”Take a deep breath Tae, I’m not going anywhere. Hold onto me tight and watch me make these big bad nobles pop a blood vessel if they try to insult you.” Shaking his head in playful disbelief he nods holding onto your hands tight pulling you to face the music, quite literally, but you proudly step beside him matching his footsteps head held high because you’re proud to stand next to him.

It’s their loss they don’t know the real him. You know Taehyung like the back of your hand and he knows you just as much, there’s nothing you can’t endure just to stay by his side. Romantic feelings aside you would always support him.

Before you can chicken out you move to place a small kiss on Taehyung’s cheek as a form of encouragement.

”Your mother is at one o’clock already staring at us.” You whisper into his right ear while placing a hand on his shoulder to draw closer to him the sound of your voice hits the shell of his ears howbeit it gets drowned by the chatter and music that surrounds the elegant ballroom, you’re in perfect height to reach him without problems thanks to your heels and while you’re at it you should give his mother something to munch on.

”Taehyung, glad you could make it.” His mother’s tone is dripping honey as he greets his son pecking the same cheeks you pecked moments prior, you somehow felt triumphant by that tiny fact, not surprised when your greeting is delayed like always, however, ignoring me won’t make me disappear doesn’t matter how much she obviously would like that idea.

Her smile gets more stained when she’s forced to acknowledge my existence you expect a half-hearted hello or something similar but she surprises you with a gentle hug.

”Y/N, I’m pleased to see you, actually I have a surprise for you since you always support my son I thought I should somehow thank you. Have you met Park Jimin yet?” Oh, you don’t like the sound of that. Glancing at Taehyung through your peripheral vision a sudden appearance forces your eyes to focus on the man before you.

”I’m afraid I didn’t.” You force a smile as you exchange awkward greetings with the man, he’s handsome you give him that. Jimin asks you if you would like to dance like it’s prompted to happen and you’re in no position to say no when eyes are on the two of you, so you detach yourself from Taehyung and accept this man’s outstretched hand letting him guide you through the people.

You look over Jimin’s shoulder to get a last peek at Taehyung’s form standing next to his mother it surprises you when you found his expression morph into a frown watching you led by another man.

Well, he promised you to be by your side the whole night, he’s probably upset because he couldn’t keep it.

Your intellectual guess cannot be farther from the truth as he observes Jimin’s hand with jealousy sliding down your back turning you to face him and break eye contact with Taehyung.

”What do you get out of this?”

You’re not a fan of beating around the bush, you so confront him directly Jimin acts like you said something funny his body slightly pushes against yours, hearing him chuckle so close to your face lets you admire his nice profile you play along as you let a smile appear in the corner of your mouth all the while the flute in Taehyung’s hand is close to breaking due to the strong grip he has on the poor drink.

”I have my reasons.” He answers curtly, but it’s not enough to satisfy your curiosity. Pulling you closer he guides you through the steps leading you gently along with his graceful movements, Jimin is not just handsome but a good dancer too.

”Shall we exchange secrets, sweetheart?” His breath hits the side of your face as he lowers his head near your ear to whisper into it, he has a melodious voice with a playful edge to it. That feature probably makes him popular with the girls.

”You can start by answering my question first.” A brow raised face unamused Jimin realises then and there that his charms won’t work on you, he can’t capture a heart that’s already captured.

You have someone in mind (even now when you’re talking to him) and he can’t compete with that. He wonders if it has to do anything with the Kim family’s black sheep son that you clung to before he led you away.

”Because I’m bored. There has to be a reason behind every action?” Jimin’s smile grows as soon as your expression changes from shocked to sheer bewilderment. You’re more entertaining than he first thought, refreshing to see someone so expressive of their emotions.

You regard the rich boy with narrowed eyes, manners can be damned. You refuse to be his plaything as a fit of newfound anger emerges from within the pit of your stomach.

You might not be rich like he is but your life is not a show for him to find entertainment in. Sensing your newfound hostility Jimin spins you around before pulling you back, your hands are firmly placed on his chest for the reason that the spin caught you off guard.

”Don’t look at me like that. How about I help you out as well?” Jimin glances in the direction that he knows Taehyung is still standing paying no mind to his mother chatting more focused on the way Jimin curls a lock of hair behind your ears before whispering into it like second nature.

”You like him don’t you?” A wicked smirk is written all across his face seeing your eyes widen in dread, he likes your reactions so much, it’s a shame you’re in love because he sure would be interested in you otherwise.

You always thought you were subtle enough but it’s clearly not true as a complete stranger can tell your fond feelings about your best friend, bashfully looking away you’re not sure if you should give in and confirm or try to deny it.

Reading you like an open book Jimin shakes his head in a mocking gesture. ”No need to lie, after tonight we’ll never see each other again. Aren’t you curious if he feels the same way or not?” He has your undivided attention at that, of course, you’re dying to know where Taehyung’s heart lies. You were just always too afraid to ruin what the two of you have built over the years.

”What are you suggesting?” Tightening your hold on his suit, he’s aware he has exactly where he wants you to be, right in the palm of his hands.

”Don’t take it personally sweetheart.” The smirk appears again when your face contorts into a scowl.

”What are you talking about .. hmmp.” His hands dip lower stopping just above your ass the sudden contact makes you jump a little halting your words altogether and Jimin lets a warm laugh out at your reaction.

”You’re cute when you get all flustered.” The next thing you feel is his plump lips giving a lingering kiss onto the centre of your forehead, the gesture featherlight and sweet, he could almost fool you if you didn’t feel his hand so closely situated near your butt.

”I guess it’s time for us to say goodbye. If things don’t work out with him you can always just search for me.” You have no time to take in and consider the meaning behind his words because someone grabs your hand absurdly pulling you out of Jimin’s hold, your dance partner smirks up at the intruder and raises his hands in lazy defence.

The familiar smell of Taehyung’s cologne envelopes your senses you tense up and relax at the same time as his touch is burning but soothing on your skin leaving you to bask in the exciting mix of the two emotion, it doesn’t require rocket science to know whose chest is that you’re pulled against. His fingers curl around your silk-covered waist protectively while the other is still holding onto your hand.

Taehyung left his mother standing with a shocked expression overtaking her features, leaving her in the middle of a one-sided conversation that she failed to realise but his vision was always trained on your form, he started to see red when that bastard blond man began to get too close to you.

”It was a pleasure meeting you miss Y/N, don’t forget to look for me if you ever get bored.” Ready to get your love interest riled up (beaming at the both of you) Jimin takes your free hand to plant a small kiss on the back but Taehyung instinctively pulls you out of reach before he can get too close again.

There’s no way in hell that he would let him touch you for another minute longer, at the same time a hand digs into your hip bone but you’re too caught up in the situation beforehand to register the feeling of Taehyung’s hand tighten on your body possessively.

”I guess I’m done here, you have your answer.” Jimin gives you a last good-natured wink before his body gets swallowed up by the people dancing around your frozen form.

Turning around you finally face Taehyung for the first time since the both of you got separated his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he regards you with bottled-up desire and longing. He can’t bear the sight of you so close to someone else that’s not him.

Realisation lits up in your orbs as Jimin’s melodic voice echo inside your head. ’You have your answer’ and what a nice answer that you got.

Can’t contain your feelings anymore you pull Taehyung closer to your form using a fistful of his tie to aid you and crash your lips against his. Fireworks erupt behind your closed eyelids as you feel Taehyung’s body mould against yours perfectly, his lips are gentle as he moves against yours and you almost moan into his mouth when he parts your lips with the tip of his tongue.

”Tae..” You’re the first to pull away when it hits you where the two of you are – in the middle of the ballroom where everyone can witness your first kiss with him – but it’s not long before Taehyung connects your mouths again despite your efforts to part from him you find yourself responding to every little peck he delivers. His lips, his scent everything is so intoxicating.

”Taehyung, your mother will faint if you keep kissing me.” He chuckles into your shoulder nose buried deep into your hair inhaling your sweet scent, it’s hard for him to hold himself back when he finally gets a taste of you.

”Let’s get out of here.”

”So..” You start talking once the both of you are situated inside his car as he drives back home after the initial shock wears off that yes, the two of you indeed just kissed in front of at least 20,00 people nonetheless in front of his mother who would probably strangle you if she had the chance.

”Just to make sure. You..do like me right?” Rubbing your clammy hands on your expensive dress shyly you avoid eye contact with Taehyung but it doesn’t deter him from looking at you a few times before he rightfully turns back to watch the road.

His tie is loosened around his neck and a few buttons are undone as well, the air inside the car took a turn.

”I do. Do you?” Your best friend gulps gripping the steering wheel nervously even if you were the first to lean in and kiss him he can’t help the doubts that start to fill his head. What if you regretted it?

Feeling more relaxed after his confession you give his thighs a small squeeze that startles your friend. You feel his leg muscles go rigid under your touch so you decide to remove your hand that makes him panic more. He’s not trying to reject you, he just has a hard time accepting the fact that his feelings for you are reciprocated.

His hand finds your bare skin mid-thigh just below the material of your dress, sensing the inappropriate touch he tries to pull back, cursing under his breath that he can’t do a single thing right with you but you intertwine your fingers placing it back on your thigh.

Your smaller ones are entirely enveloped in his warm touch like he was made for holding your hand all along. ”I like you too.” You confess. It feels weird but you are relieved and somehow giddy that you could tell him your honest feelings after keeping them to yourself, that you’re able to share it with him confidently without fearing rejection or behind the shadow of the possibility to lose him as a friend.

”You do?” His smile reaches from ear to ear as he asks you, more confident in his skin after hearing you say it his hand glides further up on your thigh reaching the hem of your dress, his smile never falters even when his index finger reaches the apex of your thighs a yelp of surprise leaves you but not making any effort to stop him.

He draws sluggish circles over your clothed clit that makes you bite your lip preventing yourself from forming too much noise, your cheeks heat up because of his ministrations yet you shamelessly spread your legs further apart for him to comfortably reach under your dress. Taehyung keeps his caress light, intent on not scaring you.  

”Of course I do Tae.” You tell him like it’s crazy that he even thought otherwise, Taehyung rewards your honest words by cupping your heat with his palm rubbing you firmly over your underwear his movements are uncoordinated because he had to divide his attention between you and the road but his touch feels good all the same.

”Fuck.” You curse when he grinds the heel of his palm over your throbbing clit. Just a few hours prior while you were getting into the dress Taehyung bought you, you would have never imagined that this night will end up with his fingers inside your underwear but you’re certainly not complaining.

”Tae, please.” A mewl that soon turned into a whimper was the last thread of his sanity when he finally pulled aside the damp material that started to cling onto your skin uncomfortably, his finger got coated with your excitement as he slowly rubbed your heat sliding his finger up and down your slit nudging your lips apart so he can dive deeper.

Impatient you gripped his wrist and lowered his hand so his finger was closer to your entrance, reading between the lines Taehyung circled his digit around your clenching hole before easing a finger inside curling it experimentally inside you that earned the loudest moan so far. The angle is awkward but he tries to move his fingers in and out of you to the best of his abilities while he keeps his eyes on the empty road.

He felt his cock harden under his pants even more due to the sweet noises you make for him the feel of you so wet and needy sucking his finger inside and clenching around him, you truly were the woman of his dreams.

You remove his hand licking his finger that’s coated with your essence clean before you move to open up his zipper. Taehyung’s hand fists into your hair when he realises you’re about to give him a blowjob.

”Fuck, this is so dangerous.” He curses but doesn’t pull your head back when you lick his swollen tip. Taehyung forces his eyes to stay open as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking and licking along his shaft.

You have one hand on his strong thigh to keep yourself hunched over him as you try not to interfere with his driving.

Moving your mouth up and down you keep your movements slow but make sure you suck every time his tip reaches the back of your throat breathing through your nose you lick into his slit when you reach the head of his cock.

Taehyung’s grip on the steering wheel makes his knuckles go white with the force to keep the car in line while you keep sucking him off. You give the most attention to his sensitive tip as he’s already close to cumming.

You pull off before he could. Watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach, precum drooling from the tip mixed with your saliva. He’s truly a sight and you get to admire him close as his chest moves rapidly sucking in ragged breaths, you can tell that he wants to cum so bad.

”If you drive faster you can get more than just my mouth on your cock.” You tease him tucking his painfully erect cock back into his pants, Taehyung continues to look ahead watching the road, clearly frustrated that you didn’t let him cum but steps on the accelerator to give the car more speed. Can’t wait to finally have you.

”Just wait till we get home, you’re going to regret teasing me, baby.” His voice is deep, hoarse from the moans and dark with evident sexual frustration, you know he’s still hard inside his pants but willing to wait until he could bury his dick inside your sweet cunt.

You’re in for a wild night. If you can still walk the next morning you’re going to send a gift basket to his mother to thank her for intervening because if it weren’t for her you two would still play that game of cat and mouse. Maybe thank Jimin too.

[mrsjadecurtiss]

The thing that we won’t have a roose chapter it’s kinda sad. Like we will never know if doing certain things (like the red wedding) didn’t minimally affect him or otherwise. Like we can’t forget that he doesn’t EXPRESS his feelings not that he hasn’t any. I know Brabrey said this specifically but as wise she is she can’t read others mind. I’m not justifying any action I’m only saying it would be interesting finding out he actually “gives shit” about things he did. And I know the probabilities of this being true are very low, but as a person myself who has difficulties to express my emotions and seems apathic to others while I feel emotions with the same intensity as everyone I was curious.

Oooh now that you sent your second ask the original one appeared! My reply got a little long; I will use quotes from your ask as “chapter headers” for the different topics so it is easier to understand.

“We will never know if doing certain things (like the red wedding) didn’t minimally affect him or otherwise. [...] I’m not justifying any action I’m only saying it would be interesting finding out he actually “gives shit” about things he did.”

I don't think Roose feels *bad* about the red wedding - he didn’t have to do it after all, it's not like he was under coercion or threat of his life; arguably the entire thing wouldnt have worked without having a strong northern traitor. While Robb's cause was a losing one and this influenced Roose to turn cloak after weighing the alternatives, Roose was not in danger under Robb and his betrayal appears to have been about both minimizing his waste of resources in a losing cause as well as the advantages he can get from this new alliance and what Tywin offers.

Roose appears to fundamentally be a selfish man, who decides his actions after what will give him the most benefit at the smallest risk to his own person. Any regrets i imagine he might feel (this could be what you meant in your ask) would be not on a moral level, but rather about mistakes he made that led him into a position that might not end well for him, and the danger he has gotten himself into.

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear.  - aDwD

Roose to me represents the worst of feudalism, and the epitome of how someone turns out who is raised at the top of this society and with an unchallenged privilege. He has no respect for the autonomy of the people below him in hierarchy, and sees politics and the power at his hand as a tool to benefit himself first and foremost.

“We can’t forget that he doesn’t EXPRESS his feelings not that he hasn’t any.”

Agreed - for all that he is evil and callous i believe it is shown that he has feelings and emotions, which he generally hides under a mask.

Roose Bolton's own face was a pale grey mask, with two chips of dirty ice where his eyes should be. - aDwD

We know he feels fear about his crumbling political situation, he feels fondness for Walda, he appears to talk about Domeric with affection, he is amused enough by Arya not to punish her, he refuses to break the taboo of kinslaying, and something drives him to keep Ramsay around even though it is not advantageous rationally. He has his wants and needs, he has societal expectations he adheres to (like the expectation to continue his family line), he has a distaste for being disrespected...

As an example of him showing emotion, in the Red Wedding itself i believe grrm intentionally contrasts his behaviour with the prior Jaime chapter: where in his dialogue with Jaime he seems relaxed, talks a lot and is shown enjoying his food, in the Red Wedding he is quiet and doesn’t eat much while exchanging subtle threats with Lord Walder. This appears to show that he was indeed stressed in this high-stakes situation and aware of the danger he was in. Note that the quote from aDwD about him showing fear also explicitly points out that he says "nothing at all" in a time of stress, paralleling his lack of dialogue during the RW chapter. (Catelyn is depressed and so probably not talkative, but he also doesnt engage in dialogue with his wife despite her “chatter”).

I wont expand on it too much in this post for length's sake, but i think it is also likely that Roose shares traits with Ramsay in terms of emotionality (which he then hides under his “mask”, as opposed to his openly emotional son); For example his behaviour of not tolerating disrespect and taking what is "his" in the event with the miller's wife. Some i also briefly touched upon in this meta.

“I know Brabrey said this specifically but as wise she is she can’t read others mind.”

In “The Prince of Winterfell”, Barbrey has a long paragraph about her opinion on Roose. As this is her first longer scene, it is my opinion that her entire long dialogue scene with Theon is meant not only to show insight into some of the characters she talks about, but also about her own character; since the way someone talks about people shows how they think.

The negative way she talks about Roose ( “Roose has no feelings, you see.”) seems to be informed by several things:

- Obviously, his callous and selfish personality and lack of morals

- The fact that Barbrey and Roose clearly have history. Considering that Roose now has Ramsay as his heir, and Barbrey loathes Ramsay for what she believes is his fault in Domeric's death, Barbrey likely harbors some resentment against Roose for this move. This likely boosts her opinion that he is completely emotionless and only "plays with [people]" without caring for them. Her line "He does not love, he does not hate, he does not grieve" seems to contain a certain bitterness, and i believe it at least partially refers to their personal history (one could try to continue her words: he does not love [Barbrey], he does not hate [Ramsay], he does not grieve [Domeric].).

- Barbrey calls Theon's heart "craven and cringing", she calls Wyman Manderly "craven to the bone, that one", and she holds a grudge against Eddard for what he did to her without presenting much understanding for his side of the story. I believe she has a tendency to have a slightly superficial view of people or at least to talk badly about these superficial aspects, informed among other things by their appearance (Ned and Roose are plain, Theon and Wyman have physical deficiencies) and presentation (the colder Roose/Ned vs the outgoing wolf-blooded Brandon), and by the slights she perceived they did to her. She also has a tendency to scapegoat people to cope with grief, like hating on Rickard’s maester for Brandon's marriage.

So while she is right about Roose' callousness and moral bankruptcy and has some correct statements, as a fallible character (as opposed to the all-knowing author) she likely somewhat designs her view of him to fit her own narrative and worldview. So while she is an enticing source since she is close to him, her view on him should be taken with a grain of salt the same way she is not 100% correct about people like Ned or Wyman. Some things she says can be argued with through character analysis, and some things we have concrete quotes we can contrast: For example while she says "I think [Roose] would be pleased if the fat man attempted some betrayal", we know that Roose is in fact worried and bothered by the prospect, and in his dialogue to Ramsay it reads like he describes the unfaithfulness of his allies as threatening instead of an amusement. She also theorizes Roose wants to be king in the north, which seems like an impossible plan in his current political situation and nothing we had any hints towards so far in his scenes (I sometimes like to muse it might have been a reference to grrm's plans for the five year gap).

So basically what i would love a Roose PoV for is turning all the "apparently"s and "maybe"s from my metas into either confident statements or to deconfirm them... Showing some more of his view on the world, some more of his past, how he really feels about people without filtering it through dialogue and political goals... His worries, his anger, his happiness, raw and unfiltered... His long scene with Theon in Reek III practically doubles as half a PoV chapter because of the insane amounts of exposition in his dialogue (Theon barely talks or thinks for pages while Roose talks), but it is still filtered through Theon's impression of him and the agenda Roose might have behind his spoken words to present himself in a certain way.

I like to analyze his character from his lines in the book, and what few quotes I find by grrm in the So Spake Martin collection round out my impression of him well, but I would love to have a view inside his head to really get to the meat of it, and get a view of his true personality without the help of assumptions and implications.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 16: Trip - The Green Sun Project Chap.9: Zone Bound Like A Ghostly Basset Hound

Danny needs to get a little more connected with his Zone.

The next thing Danny does is look around. Actually going into the Zone wasn’t really something people did. Considering the very air and literally all surfaces were pure ectoplasm, it wasn’t exactly safe for human travel.

Glancing around, not surprised at all the green just everywhere. ‘Huh, very green’, patting his chest, ‘thanks a shit ton for that save by the way. We should, uh, not stay in one place though. And this place is super not human safe, so if my body starts doing not fun stuff, you need to get me outta here’.

Getting a loud whine, ‘deadly?’ and soft accepting hum in response.

Danny nods his head and starts looking around for a landmass. Keeping the invisibility up and floating slowly once he spots one. ‘For a normal human, yeah. But if my idea that you can make me able to handle ectoplasm is right, then I should be totally fine. The Zone, here, is pure ectoplasm. Not as strong as what’s in ghosts or what you’re made outta, but still’. Swallowing and whispering, “normally any humans who come here wear full-body anti-ecto hazmat suits. Like what my parents’ wear all the time”, lifting up and glancing at a bare-skinned hand, “I should really be in a ton of pain right now. Like what I got from your green tendrils. Well, little less immediate than that”. His Core giving a worried whine; Danny just pats his chest comfortingly.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the little island, Danny poking the ground cautiously with his shoe before shrugging and landing on it. ‘If my folks ever find out about this, they’re gonna make me burn my clothing. What with how insanely contaminated they are by now’. Earning some bubbling from his Core.

It also doesn’t take much wandering to figure out that the island is not only small but most likely uninhabited. Meaning probably safe to crash on for a bit. Also noticing in this time, that his body feels kinda good, which is weird. It was kinda like he was getting a very faint full body massage with nice oils or something. Feeling it even on and in his bones, muscles, and Core. Though he’s not surprised by the constant slight tingle of sensing all the ectoplasmic energy around. Vaguely noting how it was stronger near things that logically had more ectoplasm.

Sighing and sitting to lean against a tree, decidedly one that felt lower in ectoplasm, grumbling a little, “Sam and Tuck are probably worried by now”, and flipping out his phone. Groaning at it, “no bars or internet, figures”. ‘Any clue what’s up with my body feeling nice? Is it just cause this place is technically part of you?’.

‘Only change absorbing ectoplasm’

‘Heh, must be on a pretty massive level then. Still weird’. Leaning his head back against the bark and closing his eyes. Guess he shouldn’t be surprised that his body liked absorbing ectoplasm, probably feeding his Core in a way. Yawning a little. ‘Hey, I think I’m gonna sleep for a bit. Make sure to wake me and feel free to yank me around if a ghost approaches us, okay?’. Grinning to himself over the soft hum.  

-

Danny’s not even slightly surprised to get awoken very suddenly. He somehow doubts those ghosts would just give up. Would make his life easier though.

‘COMING. Eye child’

‘Alright. Okay. Not good’. Turning to fly off he’s also not surprised to nearly crash right into the scythe-wielding ghost that just appeared out of nowhere; who also looks to have a stick now, with something that looks like a ‘CW’ and a tiny clock on it. Not even getting a chance to back off as his body just freezes in the air.

“I’m afraid the Observants believe you a threat to the Realms, Daniel. And the future seen hardly disagrees”. A mirror shaped something forming next to the ghost and flashing through scenes of destruction.

‘I- what?- that won’t?’. His Core just making some strange warbling static thing that he can’t make sense of. The ghost doesn’t hesitate or explain further before ramming the scythe through his back, it feels like all his veins are immediately on fire and he can both see and feel green electricity arching over his skin. Watching his Core get physically shoved out of his chest, blue and white tendrils tense and clearly trying to hold on to him before fizzing and snapping off.

A verifiable horde of Observants appears, one moving to slide the Core off the top on the scythe and cup it, while Danny collapses onto the small island; wheezing and a pool of blood forming around his chest from the hole speared through it. ‘Ah shit... this is so.. not how I saw this coming’. Sure he never expected to live very long but graduating would have been nice. Though he can appreciate the comedic value of being offed by a scythe of all things. Wielded by a ghost. That’s got to count for some kind of jokester prestige. Right? And hey, he will probably be the first human to actually die here. Oh he’s so totally going to wind up a ghost.  

Man, Sam and Tuck are going to be pissed.

-

The scythe-wielding ghost quirks an eyebrow and gives an almost inaudible pleased hum while the Observants back off as the Zone Core immediately starts vibrating wildly, making horribly unpleasant static and growling sounds; as if an entire pack of hellhounds were nipping at their heels over the backdrop of a static tv screen turned well past a-hundred. All of them covering their ears and hunching over, the Observants pupils widening when the Zone Core discharges massive amounts of green electricity in every direction.

“WHAT!”, none getting to say more than that as they all start getting speared and shocked, causing massive amounts of damage. The scythe-wielding ghost the only one successfully avoiding it, though the ectoplasmic air everywhere is becoming charged itself and is something utterly unavoidable.

“Well, this changes things”. They poof and appear looming over Danny, who’s still alive enough to glance at them, “it seems you are quite the unusual one. You’ve taken a path with less than one percent possibility of happening. The Observants, they believe only they, beings inherently incapable of biases, can control the Core without becoming a danger to the Realms. Without becoming power-hungry. The logical would find that quite a narrow-minded view to hold. Would it not be preferred to have one who cares? One who protects, guides, and teaches. Over ones who only watch?”, the ghost grins as some rocks get blown apart by a zap of lightning, “I think we may be of use to each other. To answer some of your questions, I, am ClockWork”, and poofs away, reappearing by the Zone Core; while Danny’s barely consciously widens his eyes. ‘A myth...’. Then passes out, his chest falling and not rising back up.

Many of the Observants glance at each other as the fabric of the Zone begins to shake. Glancing and seeming to squint at ClockWork’s sudden movement. One speaking up, “what are you doing. You’ve fulfilled your duties, now leave”, their voice sounding full of power and command.

“I’m afraid that is not what this one wants”, and raises their scythe over their head, the blade pointed away from the Zone Core.

“ClockWork!-”, the Observants get cut off by loud static drowning everything out and ClockWork slamming the side of the scythe on the Zone Core, sending It shooting down back towards Danny. It immediately ceasing the lightning and static, exploding with tendrils that squirm over the entire island trilling loudly all the while. ClockWork floating to be between them and the horde of Observants, a slight smirk across their face.

The Observants look from the Zone Core to ClockWork, one holding up a finger, “this is your fault now. What happens, you are responsible for it. And you will take the fall for it”.

“Yes. And you will merely observe. Nothing more. As you were meant to. Pariah is gone, and you are hardly replacements”.

“You plan to-”, the Observant not getting to finish as chunks of the island seemingly get pelted at them. Effectively forcing them to flee; unable to tolerate any more damage. As while they were something of a force to be reckoned with as a group, individually they were far less durable than ones like ClockWork.

-

Danny hacks and coughs, jerking to curl up in on himself and feeling like his ribs were being squeezed by a very aggressive anaconda. Groaning over the other feeling like lead was attempting to move through his veins. There’s no way he could even lift up his arm right now and he’s got no clue what the vaguely squirming blanket thing over him is. Blinking, he can barely even attempt at actually thinking words. Mostly it was just ‘ow’ and ‘ah’ and ‘fuck’.

Sucking in a breath as that almost gnawing emptiness in his chest gets practically slammed with weight and fullness and energy and power. It’s so much that he almost passes out again from it.

“You need to calm down, you’re overwhelming the poor boy”. Danny blinks over the vaguely familiar voice, though he can’t even begin to place it at the moment. But the squirming does slow down a little and the pressure in him feels less all-consuming. Wheezing a bit and actually managing to push himself up with his one arm after a bit, blinking at the purple cloaked smirking ghost before cringing and glancing to his chest. ‘Right. Core. Little...Star?’.

Flinching a little at the very loud, ‘HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME’ that’s so intense it’s almost gibberish to him.

The cloaked ghost hums, “the Zone Core has never been exposed properly to the Zone. As such It seems quite inexperienced in how to manage so much raw energy without the body of a mortal to filter it. And It expelled a very large amount of Its latent energy attacking us”, the ghost grins, “now I could take you two somewhere to expel the raw It doesn’t yet know to handle and gather ecto-energy that is more... suitable for your living body”.

Danny wheezes a little, muscles spasming, and feeling the vibration of invisibility coming and going; pretty sure neither him nor his Core is really in control of that. “So... you’re, not going, to off, me?”. The ghost -ClockWork, right? And wasn’t that a mind fuck they were supposed to be some kind of ghost god myth- nods before changing to look like a toddler and floating close to his face, “far be it for me to deny the Zone Core Its cores desires. To see It doing as It was, It would have depleted Itself for the one It cares for. Risk everything for the one It calls home. And I find it unlikely that you would do any differently. So, do you not deserve a chance?”.

Danny just blinks, this was probably the most positive interaction with a ghost he could imagine. A bunch of ghosts just had a spat over him. Oddly, he wonders what his parents would say. How they would try to explain this. Regardless he nods gently, fighting against the stiff tautness in his neck. The now adult ghost picking him up and practically cradling him. ‘No one is ever going to believe this. Ever. Ever. Literally the only ghost I could run into more extreme than this is freaking Pariah or a ViralHelm. But... I’d be super super dead’.

‘No. Never. STAY’

‘Little guy, I have zero intention of being around either of them. Or dying honestly. Ow’.

ClockWork chuckles very faintly, Danny decides against asking. The fact that every inch of him still feels like hot garbage only encourages that. Though he can’t help but whisper in awe, “woah”, when he sees where they’re going. A massive flowering plain covered in flowers of all different kinds and shapes, with glows that somehow shimmered, a red aroma wafting off the place and smelling like sweet succulent heaven. Him sniffing and leaning forward out of ClockWork’s arms, though wincing a bit at his Core vibrating and seemingly trying to pull him forward. Everything around It felt so raw. It honestly probably was raw. ‘Please stop pulling. You’re hurting me’

‘Want. HUNGRY’

‘I know. But I feel, like you’re gonna pull, yourself out of me’. That seemed to be enough to get the little guy to calm down some. Probably really heavily against the idea of being separated at the moment. Though to be fair, he was too. He still leans forward a bit more though, pointedly ignoring the tendrils hanging out over his skin; at least it didn’t hurt. He’s just going to assume they weren’t sinking in because of the full of raw ecto thing. Did his Core just not know how to process the Zones energy yet? Or was it because of him?

He mentally cuts himself off as ClockWork sets him down on the ground, kneeling and hands moving practically not of their own accord and jerky to cup one of the little flowers. ClockWork speaking as he shoves the flower in his mouth, it exploding like a fruit gusher and making him outright moan from the sweet thick white chocolate flavour and texture. “This is the Defted Plains. The epicentre of the Zone, if any place is the true point of origin for the Zone Core it is here, and the ectoplasm here is ultimately what the purified Zone core ectoplasm was pulled from to make the Zone Core”. Danny’s barely paying any attention as he rips up more of the flowers, stuffing them into his mouth more than a little eagerly. Though noting the tendrils around him are lifted off him a bit and stabbing into the ground; more flowers growing, uncurling, and popping open around them. And the pulsing going on in his chest is more than a little weird.

Side-eyeing ClockWork as they shift to a child and move to sit on his shoulder, obviously uncaring about him practically tearing up the ground and flowers like a starved animal, “while this may be replenishing the Zone Core, it is doing little for your own healing. The Zone Core will have to do that for you Itself. And I’m afraid there are certain complications that Maddie and Jack failed to grasp”, Danny can feel the back of that scythe pressing up against his back, “that a Core needs to be connected to provide support”, then pushing him at the ground; him immediately slipping through the ground like it was butter.

Danny can’t see anything other than himself and he appears to be glowing, and the tendrils, he can’t so much as twitch a finger but watching the tendrils shoot off him and seem to connect to something somewhere and becoming taut sticking out of him from his chest. ‘Alright. Okay, somethings going on here and I have no idea what. But... are you okay?’, feeling like all of his insides are squishing themselves or something, ‘oh Zone I’m hungry’, he’d really like to be able to swallow or anything right now, ‘this is your hunger I’m feeling right?’.

‘Some much-everything-is. Home fine. Here happy-mine’. Danny’s skin twitching violently is the closest he can get to shuddering from the harsh vibrations and nuzzling; hearing deep humming bordering on a purr that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere.

Danny doesn’t even get a chance to try responding to that, he’s pretty sure his Core is having a fair few issues ‘thinking’, as he feels like a video game cartridge that just got clicked into place and eyes mentally widening at the blackness being overtaken by being able to just see everything seemingly expanding out from him. He can see the edges of the Zone like he’s there but also not? It makes zero sense, but whatever that’s just his life, existence, whatever, now.

Then nearly vomiting from everything just seemingly snapping back inside him and rolling over on the little flowering plain area. The Defted Plains ClockWork called it? Grinning slightly more than a little aware of the thick heavy wetness in his limbs again. He’d gotten used to it but still, blinking at still being able to see, like, everything but it was like colourful static spiky wavy energy and was really in the background to what he’s actually seeing around him. ‘Mind trip holy shit. A druggie would be jealous of this, damn. At least I can tell what’s actually in front of me’ closing his eyes, he could still see the static energy stuff behind his eyelids, ‘fuck. This is a lot’. Sighing a little at the soft apologetic sounding whine. ‘It’s fine it’s fine. Just gotta give me a bit to deal’, swallowing, ‘so this is you huh? All of you? The Zone?’

‘Mine. Yes. Part of. Home more mine. Part home too’.

‘Alright cool. Guess the Zone’s part of me more than just having its Core. I can just feel the existential crisis coming’. That gets him some bubbling laughter, which makes him smile even if he still feels tired and so doesn’t want to get up.

Danny twitches a jerk at the sound of ClockWork’s voice startling him, “I would encourage you to head home. Before any curious ghosts come to check you out. You, or more so the Zone Core, is quite a big deal after all”.

Danny sighs and slowly pushes himself up, that action alone making him feel exhausted, “ghosts coming after me is going to be common bullshit for me now, isn’t it? And do I seriously seem like I’ve got the energy to be going anywhere?”, oh he can feel the sarcasm dripping off that.

ClockWork smirks, “that would be telling, wouldn’t it”, floating closer and jabbing his chest with their staff, “you may find yourself tired but the Zone Core hardly is, Daniel. Or should I call you Phantom?”, grinning, “no I think I won’t”.

Danny actually chuckles over that, he thinks he kinda likes this ghost. Looking down to his chest, “well? Feel like doing the portal shit again? You’re gonna have to puppet me around though, ‘cause my muscles feel like rubber”. He thinks ClockWork grins a little at that but when he looks they’re gone. His Core does bubble and crackle a little though, even if there’s a slight whine. Obviously little guy felt bad for all this, which yeah, he fucking died for a while there he’s pretty sure. Regardless he doesn’t fall over when his arms jerk out and the taut threads stabbing his bones feeling starts up, a portal swirling open; his body seemingly flinging itself through it. Landing on the sidewalk in front of his house, just outside of the shield around FentonWorks. Which he absolutely groans over. It’s also dark out. Which, fuck him, everyone was probably freaking out about his sudden MIA status.

Hence why he’s totally unsurprised when his parents and friends all run out to him. ‘Ah they probably thought my parents did some experiment thing on me or that I maybe got abducted by the G.I.W.. Nice to know they’d come running to my defence without hesitation’. His Core softly humming a happy agreement.

[alphawave-writes]

World Records and recordings NSFW Sigma x Harold Winston

Synopsis: Harold Winston is sexually frustrated, but Siebren isn't interested in sex. Or at least, that's what Harold thinks, until he catches Siebren masturbating in his room. Read below or find it on AO3

I’ve also opened up a Sigrold discord server. If you wanna gush about space dads, join the crew! 

-

It’s taken Harold a while to acknowledge the possibility that Dr. Siebren de Kuiper may not hold any sexual interest in him. To be fair, that shouldn’t surprise him. As far as he knows, Harold is Siebren’s first serious relationship in a long, long time. And since they’ve been together, Siebren has given no indication he’s interested in sex. No passing comment, no double entendre, no sultry words or secretive wink or lingering touch. Nothing.

Harold on the other hand is sexually interested in Siebren. Very interested, if interest is measured by the amount and intensity of wet dreams and lewd fantasies a single man can have. He’s not sure when his feelings had shifted from a warm, unconditional love to this overwhelming lust. All he knows is that he’s hyper aware of every little move Siebren makes now. He sees every lick of the lips, every flutter of the eyes, and his imagination runs wild, giving him a glimpse into an alternate reality where Siebren kisses him hotly in the mouth and bends him over a table and takes him then and there, for all of the Horizon staff to see.

Harold’s lost count of the amount of times he’s let the images fly before his eyes when he’s alone in bed. He’d stroke himself off, whimpering silently to the dust in the air, imagining all the ways Siebren can have him. Every time he finishes, he’s sated but unsatisfied. Every morning he stares at Siebren’s door, just opposite his bedroom, and lets out a sigh.

It’s not like Harold beats around the bush, oh no, he makes his intentions very clear. He’s hinted many times in front of Siebren what his preferences are. He did his fair share of nudges and winks, and when that didn’t work, he opted for a more direct approach.

In hindsight, lying naked on Siebren’s bed in a provocative pose was probably not his greatest decision. It’s almost an hour when Siebren finally arrives and once he realizes that Harold is there, naked and wanting, he just stares at him for a few seconds, eyes wide. Harold tries to smile seductively even as his nerves threaten to get the better of him, but Siebren does not say a thing. Siebren walks silently up to the bed, places his hands on Harold’s shoulders, kisses him gently on the forehead, and proceeds to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m sorry, Harold,” he says apologetically the next morning. He's still wearing yesterday's clothes, his bedhead making him look wild and gorgeous. “I do love you, do not be mistaken, it’s just…better that we don’t do this kind of thing. It’ll only ruin our relationship.”

Harold frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you or your feelings.” He holds Harold close and rubs his back in a soothing manner, trailing kisses down Harold's chin. It’s Siebren's way of apologizing.

And it’s fine, Harold tells himself later that day. It’s fine that Siebren’s not attracted to him whatsoever. It’s totally fine that he’s the only one who masturbates to the thought of Siebren’s dick, big and red and full of veins, pressing into the cleft of his ass, sweet nothings whispered into his ear. It's definitely fine that he can get himself hard if he so much as thinks about Siebren for too long.

Oh, who is he kidding? It’s absolutely NOT fine. They need to discuss this properly. They need to. He wants to make his relationship with Siebren work.

For all intents and purposes, it is a rather typical day on Horizon One lunar base. Harold spends half the morning chasing after Specimen 28, and the other half of the morning doing the prep work for his latest experiment. In the afternoon he has lunch, chats with the other Horizon staff, and goes about his day.

He doesn’t see Siebren at all today, which is a bit of a relief. He needs the distraction away from him. After that fiasco, things have been more than a little awkward between the two of them. Siebren doesn’t smile easily at him, an almost distant expression upon his face whenever they make eye contact. Every time Harold tries to broach the topic of sex, Siebren changes the subject or just remains unusually quiet, or even just leave the room altogether. Harold can't account this for naïve innocence or embarrassment. Siebren's avoiding him.

Harold’s frustrated, but he refuses to be the one to start this conversation. Maybe he's being stubborn, but Siebren knows how he feels. He's supposed to be smart.

Harold stares at the open door to his lab and sighs. He almost expects Siebren to come in any moment now, but he's nowhere to be seen.

He'll have to talk to me sooner or later, Harold tells himself as he gets back into his work. He can't avoid me all day.

But then the hours tick on by and Harold is still alone. Dinner comes and goes and Siebren is still nowhere to be seen. It's not just Harold who notices his absence. Even the other scientists are concerned.

“It’s your job to find him,” Yoshida says. Today is their day to do the dishes. They’re the slowest dish washer on Horizon One, but they’re also the most thorough. No one ever finds a dirty spot on their cutlery when Yoshida does the washing.

Harold sighs. “Do I have to?”

“You’re the boyfriend,” Nevsky smirks. “Or is there trouble in paradise?”

It still sounds so weird hearing the word ‘boyfriend’ to describe himself. He never thought he’d be a boyfriend to anyone, let alone to be the boyfriend of a Dutch astrophysicist with horrific eating habits and a strange aversion to footwear. Then again, he never thought he’d be taking care of genetically enhanced gorillas on the moon. “Nothing a small chat cannot fix,” he smiles tersely.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?” Nevsky takes out a small, unopened bottle of lube from their lab coat. Harold’s eyes widen as he quickly snatches it away from Nevsky’s grasp, stuffing it into his own pockets.

His cheeks are crimson. Yoshida cackles loudly. The shit-eating grin Nevsky gives him is enough to make his stomach turn. “P-please tell me you didn’t snoop my room to get this.”

“It’s your fault for bringing Hammond in. He escaped his cage once again, and when we finally found him, he was chewing on the cap.” Nevsky smirks before adding, “I won’t report this to Lucheng, but maybe find a better place to hide this so the animals can’t get a hold of it. Just saying.”

Harold glances down at the bottle. Small bite marks could be seen near the top of the cap. “N-noted.”

“Hey, does that mean Harold will be the first man to have sex on the moon?” Yoshida asks.

“That’d be some world record,” Nevsky remarks. “Dr. Harold Winston, astrobiologist, zoologist. First man ever to have butt sex on the moon.”

“Doesn’t that mean Dr. de Kuiper also gets a world record?”

“They’ll both share a world record then. I mean, one of them has to perform it, and the other has to receive, right?” Nevsky turns to Harold and smirks. “No offense, Harold, but out of the two of you, you strike me as the bottom.”

“This is the part of the conversation where I go away and find Siebren and never talk to you guys again,” Harold cringes.

“Let me know how it goes,” Nevsky yells as Harold leaves the dining area. “Guinness will probably want all the details for your new world record.”

Harold checks Siebren’s lab, half expecting him to be distracted with his work, but he’s nowhere to be found. His lab is clean and well-kept, almost like he hasn’t been in it at all. To say it’s strange is an understatement. Siebren practically lives and breathes in his lab. He’s probably spent more time in this lab than he’s spent in his own bedroom, or any other part of the lunar base. Something must be wrong, Harold realizes. He’s got one other place to check.

Harold finds himself outside of Siebren’s private room, waiting by the door. He’s done his best to avoid even looking at Siebren’s door. After yesterday, it’s going to be so awkward. And it’s mostly his fault for making it awkward, he knows that, but one look at Siebren nowadays and his fantasies run wild. It’s easy to imagine Siebren’s large hands pinning him to the wall, his thrusts powerful and hard, a smug smirk drifting on top of his crimson face as he leaves Harold a shuddering mess.

He shakes his head, ignoring the heat rising up his cheeks. He doesn’t need this. Quick in and quick out. Tell Siebren he's missed dinner. Let him figure out why Harold’s frustrated in his own time.

Harold lets out a breath and presses his palm to the hand scanner. The door slides open.

As he suspects, Siebren is in his room, sitting at his desk. His back is facing Harold, hunched over and slumped as he gazes at the papers strewn across the hard surface. He’s got headphones on but the wires have since frayed slightly, some of the sound leaking. It’s faint, but Harold can just make out voices talking over a jazzy tune. A podcast, he thinks.

“Come on, Siebren, you spent all day in here?” Harold tuts silently. Siebren hasn’t noticed him at all. He’s too distracted with his podcast. A small smirk spreads across Harold’s face as an idea forms in his head.

He tiptoes forward, his steps as quiet as possible, ready to sneak up and surprise Siebren. A part of him tells him it’s petty revenge. The other part of him tells him it’s a way to alleviate some of his frustrations. The reason doesn’t matter. Before he can surprise Siebren proper, a loud shudder escapes his lips. The noise is lewd, desperate, a far cry from the strict properness of Siebren’s speech. It’s enough to make Harold stop in his tracks.

He's close enough to hear the words filtering from Siebren’s headphones. Two men are talking to each other in low, seductive tones. One has a deep yet weak voice. The other sounds a lot like Harold himself, only far more assertive and much more aroused.

“You’ll do as I say,” The Harold voice-alike breathes. There's heat and possessiveness in his tone.

“Y-yes,” the deep voiced man quivered.

“Yes, what, exactly?”

“Y-yes, master.”

“Good. Now, stay still for me. Don’t move one little bit.”

The noises that follow after are suggestive and revealing at the same time. There’s the loud noise of a zipper being pulled down, hushed moans and gasps, whispered compliments breathed in an erotic tone as the jazz gets louder, and then the wet noises of a man swallowing another’s cock.

Siebren lets his head fall onto his left arm, muffling his noises. Harold’s eyes trail down Siebren’s right arm, disappearing into his lap, moving up and down rhythmically. He should be mad, but a part of him is aroused by the sight of Siebren pleasuring himself to these voices, vulnerable and blushing.

Suddenly the door to Siebren’s room automatically closes with an audible swish. Siebren freezes in place, twisting his head slowly over his shoulder. His eyes are wide. His mouth is agape.

“S-siebren?”

He stops the recording, takes the headphones off his ears and quickly swivels his chair around to face the desk.

“Siebren,” Harold huffs.

He stomps his way forward and forcefully turns the chair to face him. Siebren averts his gaze, all of a sudden captivated with his empty bookshelf. His hands are folded over his crotch, his thick legs pressed together so tightly. Next to the pile of papers on Siebren’s desk is an empty plate, scraps of today’s breakfast coating the surface.

“Have you been in your room all day?” Harold admonishes.

Siebren scowls shamefully. “It…won’t calm down.”

“You…what?” Harold's eyebrows furrow.

“I-I don’t listen to this out of pleasure,” Siebren gestures at his headphones. “I just need to calm it down. Get on with my work. B-but my body does not heed my commands today.”

Harold gazes down to Siebren’s crotch and gulps. He can’t see anything with Siebren’s hands in the way, but he can see that his pants have been undone, pulled lower over his hips for easier access. Orange boxers peek over hip bones, slid down slightly to reveal a tuft of thick hair.

Harold takes a shaky breath in and out. He doesn’t know what to feel anymore. Laying naked on a bed doesn’t do anything for Siebren, but a few guys fucking on stereo do? But then one of those guys sounded an awful lot like him. He purses his lips and shakes the thought away. He’s got bigger problems. More immediate problems.

“How long has…it…not calmed down?” Harold asks slowly.

“P-probably just over an hour now.”

“Only an hour?”

“This is the fourth time today I’ve had this particular problem.” Siebren flushes. “It doesn’t stay away for long.”

“And why doesn’t it stay away?”

Siebren huffs, but he doesn’t reply. His crimson blush has reached down to his neck and hands. His jaw is clenched tight, his body squirms, a far cry from the confident and suave man that Harold knows. His dazed eyes give Harold the answer Siebren’s lips don’t speak. Harold wasn't the only one with the hyperactive imagination today, it seems.

Harold doesn’t stop looking at Siebren’s pants. He’s had fantasies like this. Siebren would be properly dressed, just unzipping his pants to unveil his thick cock peeking from his underwear. He would lead Harold down onto his knees, pulling his head forward into his CROTCH. Siebren will give him the simple but powerful command to “suck” and Harold would eagerly do as Siebren says, watching and waiting for Siebren’s cool façade to slowly break as he moans to the stars.

His throat feels so dry as he braces his hand on Siebren’s chair. He’s not sure what expression is on his face, but he knows it must be intense, because Siebren exhales noisily through his nostrils, the hot air caressing Harold’s cheek. He places his other hand over Siebren’s, their gazes connected.

“Let me help you.”

“N-no,” he whispers.

“Please,” Harold insists.

Siebren whines, but he puts up no resistance when Harold pushes his hands aside. He sucks in a breath as his cock springs upward, suddenly exposed to the cool air. Harold’s eyes are as big as balloons.

“Gosh,” he breathes, because really, what else can he say about a cock like this? Even considering Siebren’s height, it’s massive, bulging blood vessels lining up from the base of his cock all the way up to the red, glistening head. It’s almost straight, with a slight lean to the left, the length so long that if Siebren was shirtless, Harold thinks it goes past his bellybutton. It leaks eagerly, precum covering the surface in a wet sheen.

It’s not what Harold expects Siebren’s dick to look like. It’s so much bigger than he expected. It’s so much better than anything his brain could’ve conjured.

Before Harold can stop himself, his hand wraps around Siebren’s shaft.

“H-Harold,” Siebren hisses.

“You’re thick too.” His hand strokes upwards slowly, all the way up to the head. He never thought Siebren would react like this, a fist over his mouth, gaze averted, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. It’s a side of him Harold’s never seen before. The Siebren he knows is prim and proper, a haughty gentleman with a strict routine and stricter standards. It’s nothing like this Siebren, beautiful and blushing and vulnerable.

He wants more. He wants to see more.

Harold gets down on his knees and leans forward, inhaling deeply. The scent of Siebren’s dick is heavy and musky and a bit overwhelming but it’s Siebren’s scent, and that’s all that matters. He strokes just a bit faster, the pressure on his fingers just a bit harder. Siebren quivers from his touch, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He’s finally staring at him with those mesmerizing blue eyes, cloudy with desire. It's such an undeniably erotic expression, and Harold's the one to bring it to the surface.

“I-I don’t have any lube,” Siebren whimpers.

“I’ve smuggled some.”

“You, Dr. Harold Winston, smuggled lube onto a lunar base?” Siebren almost sounds impressed.

Harold smirks. “I’m prepared.”

Siebren splutters as he turns his head away. “W-well, I don’t have condoms.”

“We don’t need them.”

Siebren’s lips dip. He’s trying and failing to find another excuse, another reason to stop this. Siebren can’t say he doesn’t want this, because they both know he does. He leans back into his chair, legs spread to accommodate Harold, fists clenched at his side as Harold jerks him faster.

“Y-you don’t want this. Don’t want me,” Siebren says in a hoarse whisper. He moans softly as Harold’s other hand begin to caress his balls. “I-I’m too big. I would only hurt you.”

“Is that why you refused me earlier? Because you think I’ll break up with you because your dick is humongous?” Harold says incredulously.

Siebren blushes furiously. “When you put it like that…”

Harold can’t help but laugh quietly, if only to ease the tension building on Siebren’s shoulders. “Siebren, I’m already on my knees for you. And I’m old.” He licks a long, slow stripe up Siebren’s cock. “I don’t mind taking it as slow as we need to.”

His lips wrap eagerly around Siebren’s head. Above him, Siebren groans loudly. One hand plucks the glasses off his face and deposits them on the desk behind him. The other is on his head, fingers curling into his short brown locks. Siebren doesn’t pull or tug. His touch is soft and delicate, like he’s handling a porcelain doll that will break at any moment.

“Do you want this?” Harold whispers, nuzzling into Siebren’s groin. The pubic hairs tickle his nose. It takes all his effort to suppress a chuckle. “I’ll stop if you want me to. Won’t ever ask for sex if you don’t want it.”

“I…” Siebren finally turns his gaze down to Harold. His smile is small, shy, and utterly gorgeous. His hand sweeps down Harold’s skull. “I do want this, my love, just…slow, please.”

Harold smiles. He presses a soft kiss to the underside of Siebren’s cock. “I can do slow.”

Siebren shivers. “It didn’t seem like it earlier. You all but forced yourself on me.”

“Well, OK, maybe I wasn’t slow earlier, but I’ll go slow from now on.” I think I’ll need to with this monster, Harold thinks to himself.

“G-good.”

Harold feels the hand on the back of his head pull him forward. His lips are once more on the tip of Siebren’s dick, sucking lightly, making sure not to graze his teeth too harshly. The taste on his tongue is powerful, and not entirely pleasant, but Siebren’s groaning softly now, his hand ruffling Harold’s hair while the other one slides up his shirt, massaging slow circles over his nipple, and it’s all worth it.

When he thinks his jaw is relaxed enough, Harold presses further until he can feel Siebren’s dick on the back of his throat. Siebren moans, the vibrations running down to Harold’s open mouth, making him shudder. His pants feel so tight and his body feels so hot, but he’s got a job to do. He bops his head up and down slowly, settling on a controlled pace, dragging his tongue along every square inch of flesh it can reach.

“Good,” Siebren sighs. “V-very good.” There are other Dutch words mixed in as well that Harold doesn’t understand—synonyms for “good”, he guesses. He moans in response, and makes the mistake of gazing up into Siebren’s cool blue eyes. The look he gives Harold is heated and intense, like he plucked the stars out of the sky and placed them beneath his irises. It's so erotic. It's so unfair.

Harold feels himself getting hard with every second. The pressure is just too much. He palms himself slowly in full view of Siebren, a reasonably difficult job with a dick in his mouth but achievable. He groans lowly, uncoiling with the friction.

“Harold,” Siebren gasps. He’s close, and it’s obvious from the way he squirms with every little flick of Harold’s tongue. His hand is firm on Harold’s head now, holding it in place. “P-Please tell me you also smuggled condoms.”

Harold’s lips leave Siebren’s dick with a pop, a trail of saliva and precum hanging off his chin. “I-I do.” His gaze drops. “A-at least, I think I do. Why?”

“I don’t want our first time to end like this.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want…” Siebren trails off, his eyes sliding down Harold’s chest, resting at his hips. His eyes are cloudy. “I don’t know. Just as long as it’s you.”

“So you do want me?”

“Of course I do,” he breathes seductively.

Harold suppresses a gasp. There’s butterflies in his chest, flying in every direction, making him feel warm and fuzzy. His hand goes up to Siebren’s knee, rubbing slow circles. “I want you too. Preferably before the condoms expire.”

Siebren’s lips purse, his head suddenly lowers, and then he laughs, dispelling the tension in the air. Harold tries to pout, but it’s difficult not to smile when Siebren’s laughing so childishly like this, mouth wide and open, eyes scrunched in happiness. This is the Siebren he knows. This is the Siebren he loves.

Siebren pulls Harold up slowly so they’re both standing on their own two feet. His hand lowers down to Harold’s chin, caressing his jaw softly before kissing him passionately. It’s unlike any of their previous kisses. It’s warm and passionate, open-mouthed and wanting. His tongue spars with Harold’s eagerly, drawing out as many sounds as it can. The moans that leaves Harold’s throat are obscene, lewd.

“S-Sieb?” Harold breathes when their mouths drift away.

Siebren swipes his thumb over Harold's chin and brings it up to his tongue, licking slowly. He smacks his lips loudly, his face scrunched up. “Is that what I taste like?”

“You don’t know what you taste like?”

“You do?”

“Well, one of us is the weird one here,” Harold raises his eyebrows.

“I’m going to say it’s you, my love,” Siebren smirks.

“You’re the one who kissed me, knowing exactly where my mouth’s been.” Harold’s hand traces down Siebren’s shirt as he presses a kiss to Siebren’s neck. Electricity fizzles warmly on his lips, traveling down his spine. “Perhaps we should take this back to my room then?”

“I suppose we shall,” Siebren glances down at his still-hard dick and frowns. “Although perhaps I might need to take care of this.”

“Your jacket’s big enough to hide it.” He takes Siebren’s hand in his and leads him out of the room before Siebren can argue otherwise, giggling at the surprised yelp that spills out of Siebren’s mouth.

It’s a quick trip to Harold’s bedroom next door to get the condoms. Turns out the lube bottle wasn’t the only victim from Hammond’s ‘attack’. As he opens his bedside drawer, he notices that his box of condoms is also lightly chewed at the edge, though a quick inspection inside prove that the condoms within are unaffected. He breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't want to give Siebren an excuse to stop this.

“Found them?” Siebren asks teasingly. He’s sitting down at the foot of Harold’s bed, smirking lightly as he rests backwards on his elbows. Harold laughs as he crosses the threshold to the bed and sits in Siebren’s lap. He’s pulled into a crushing kiss, full of teeth and tongue, textures and tastes and wonderful sounds. A hand reaches over his shoulder, pulling his lab coat down to his elbows.

God, they’re really going to do this. Siebren is going to strip his clothes off and pin him down to the bed and make love with him. Siebren actually wants him. This is really happening.

“Sieb,” Harold gasps. He barely has the necessary brain power to get the box of condoms and lube out of his coat pockets and place them on the bed. The rest of his thoughts are all on Siebren’s touch, Siebren’s love, Siebren’s everything.

“Let me do this,” he whispers. “It’s the least I can do.”

In a flurry of hand motions, Harold’s coat is gone. His turtleneck is next, Siebren guiding Harold’s arms up, pulling the fabric up and over his head. Siebren pauses for a second to admire his chest before his tongue latches onto Harold’s neck, sucking lightly. A shudder escapes Harold’s throat. Fingers move lower, fumbling at his zipper. Pants are slid down, and then underwear, thrown off in some direction behind his back.

Harold feels the sharp inhale on his neck, and then a nervous chuckle. Siebren palms his half-hard dick, rubbing softly. “Just as I thought. You are beautiful,” Siebren utters.

Harold blushes self-consciously. “So you have thought of me like this?”

“I have,” Siebren quietly admits. “Thought of you—thought of the both of us—in many different situations.” He smiles. “Not all of them were entirely innocent.”

Harold sweeps his hand over the stretch of belly peeking out from under Siebren’s shirt. His mind is swimming. Now that he knows Siebren feels the same way, the possibilities feel endless. “What are you thinking now?” Harold whispers.

“That I want you. That I want to please you.” Siebren kisses Harold's collarbone. “That I love you dearly.”

“So sappy,” Harold giggles as he pulls Siebren close for another kiss. “I love you too.”

Harold doesn’t have near the same amount of patience when it came to stripping Siebren, taking the pieces off one at a time and throwing them over his shoulder. He only gets a moment to admire Siebren’s broad, hairy chest and strong muscles and flushed cheeks. Siebren pulls him in and reverses their positions, Harold's back pressed to the mattress. Kisses and licks are exchanged eagerly. True to Siebren’s request, they’re passionate but slow, patient and wet and warm. Everything Harold wants and more.

Harold hears the sound of the lube bottle popping open before he sees it. It squelches deliciously as it oozes down Siebren’s fingers, covering them in a glistening sheen. Siebren's smile is soft yet shy.

“I must warn you, it’s been a long while since I’ve done this,” Siebren says.

“No offense, but I’d be surprised if it hasn’t been a long time for you, Sieb.”

Siebren just smirks as he spreads the lube over Harold’s puckered asshole. Harold hisses lowly. “That certainly keeps you quiet,” Siebren laughs.

Harold has a retort, but words don’t make much sense when he's got a finger in his ass, slowly working itself in and out. There’s the squelch of more lube, and suddenly there’s another finger, scissoring with the other, grazing over his prostate.

“E-easy, tiger,” Harold sighs.

“Be patient. I need to prepare you thoroughly.”

“Xīn gān, I think I’ll be finished by the time I’m prepared, at this rate.”

“Patience, mijn schatje,” Siebren insists.

There’s a third finger, and then a fourth, moving slowly, careful not to stimulate him too much and push him off the cliff. For a moment Harold thinks that maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew. He already feels so full with four fingers, but Siebren’s cock is much thicker than that. It’s hard to relax when there’s a hand on his belly, pressing lightly into his pudgy flesh, distracting him.

But eventually those fingers slide out of him, and Harold groans loudly, feeling empty all of a sudden. There’s the slick slide of more lube down Siebren’s cock, and then the crinkle of the condom wrapper being torn. Harold watches with hooded eyes as Siebren puts the condom on slowly.

Harold smiles. “Ever been told you put on a condom sexily?”

“No,” Siebren blinks. “There’s a non-sexy way to do it?”

Harold chuckles. “Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

“I’d rather you not,” Siebren responds wryly. He squeezes Harold’s hips lightly. “Turn around for me.”

Harold gives a knowing smirk, but does as Siebren says. He’s flat on his stomach, his arms folded over the pillow. Siebren’s hand glides down from his ass to his thighs, tapping at them rhythmically. Harold slowly slides his legs wider until Siebren taps him to stop. Siebren hums indulgently, leaning down to kiss constellations on Harold’s back.

His cock rocks into the crack of Harold’s ass, slow and steady, a dizzying friction. Strangled noises escape Harold's throat. He's so sensitive all of a sudden, hyperaware of every little touch and sound. He's no longer aware of the four walls that surround his bedroom or the volume of his moans. The only thing in his universe is Siebren.

"Tell me when you're ready," Siebren whispers.

"G-gosh, Sieb," he pants.

"You haven't answered me."

"Sieb, I've been ready for weeks, please, don't make me wait any longer."

There's another slow kiss to the junction between his neck and shoulder. The lips pressed on his skin curl up into a smirk. "If you say so," he hums.

The tip presses against Harold's entrance before penetrating and he groans obscenely, grabbing a fistful of the pillow. Siebren’s hands are on his hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, urging him to relax. It stings, and it definitely burns despite the liberal amounts of lube they’ve used, but the slide is good. Real good. Siebren's pace is measured and tempered, his arms surrounding Harold from both sides, hips rocking melodically. Harold almost wishes he could turn around just so he could see Siebren’s flushed face prickled with beads of sweat. It’d be beautiful, vulnerable. Absolutely breathtaking.

“You want this,” Siebren pants. It’s a statement, not a question, but it begs for an answer regardless.

“Y-yeah,” Harold manages. “For a while now.”

“Have you imagined this?”

Harold opens his mouth to respond but then Siebren thrusts at just the right angle and the stars begin to flicker behind his eyes. “Right there, r-right…yes, there.”

Siebren’s breath hitches, his hips momentarily losing their rhythm. “D-don’t stop talking,” he pleads.

Harold shouldn’t be completely surprised that his talking is turning Siebren on—he did just catch him moments ago getting off to some erotica podcast. But the fact that his voice alone can make Siebren lose his composure so easily sends a dark thrill up his spine.

“Imagined you…coming into my room once,” Harold admits. Siebren groans lewdly, making Harold chuckle lightly. “You’d tell me how much you wanted me, that you had to have me, and you’d lose all control. Rip my clothes off and order me around. Make me yours.”

"M-more," Siebren breathes.

"You'd order me to stay on all fours while you take me from behind. You'd be so brutal on me, but it would feel so good. You wouldn't hold back whatsoever. I'd be at your utter mercy and I would love every second of it."

Siebren does something in between a pant and a huff of laughter as he buries his nose into Harold’s shoulder. His chest is pressed into Harold’s back. Gravity pulls their bodies so close, leaving no square inch of their skin untouched. “I-I don’t think I’m the kind to order you around like that.” His pace is getting faster. His thrusts are pushing deeper. “D-don’t think I can last much longer either.”

It’s only then that Harold becomes aware of heat and density pooling in his groin, not unlike the death of a supergiant star. There’s no longer any semblance of tempo to Siebren’s hips, thrusting wildly one second, and then achingly slow the next. Siebren’s moaning now, the hot breath tickling the tip of his ears. He’s whispering of comet tails and the infinite realms of space, sweet nothings that mean nothing except for the two of them. The arms surrounding his figure are shaking, shaking fists gripping tightly onto the covers.

Harold’s hand reaches for Siebren’s, wrapping his fingers over and squeezing. At once, the arms stop shaking. Siebren exhales loudly, curling forward, thrusting harder. “M-Mijn Schatje, please.”

“Hold it together,” Harold pleads. “Just a bit longer. Want you inside. Want you inside me, Sieb.”

“Harold,” Siebren gasps.

“I’m so close. One more moment.”

He feels one of the arms move around him, and a hand turns his face to the side. Before he realises what's happening, Siebren’s mouth crashes into his, tongue flicking eagerly, hips gliding fluidly, pressing constantly at his prostate and it’s so much pleasure, almost too much pleasure. Within seconds, Harold’s muscles tense as a loud, long moan leaves his lips, swallowed by Siebren’s tongue. The supernova explodes in his veins, searing him with light from the inside, turning him into a shuddery mess.

Siebren groans loudly and soon he too is lost to the world, cumming soon after. He collapses on Harold’s back, pressing tightly, shivering violently. Harold closes his eyes, losing himself to the waves. The stars before him give way to nebulas, then galaxies, then the universe, and it’s beautiful and perfect.

It’s many minutes later after the supernova has faded that Harold feels Siebren shift above him, lifting himself off and up before collapsing by Harold’s side. He’s breathing heavily, cheeks and body flushed, tired but sated. He looks absolutely gorgeous like this, Harold thinks. He wouldn’t mind seeing Siebren like this a little bit more.

It’s a long while before Siebren realizes Harold is staring at him. His eyes droop down from Harold's face to his hand. Slowly, he reaches out for them, intertwining his fingers, squeezing gently.

“You did not regret this, did you?” Siebren asks quietly.

“Maybe tomorrow morning I will,” Harold teases, rubbing his backside for emphasis. Siebren just raises his eyebrows incredulously. Harold chuckles. “I’m kidding. No, I do not regret this.” Quieter, he adds, “You did wonderful.”

Siebren releases a breath. “Good,” he smiles before clearing his throat loudly. “You did…you did fine as well.”

“Just fine?” Harold laughs.

“OK, you did more than fine,” Siebren rolled his eyes, smiling softly. He nuzzles closer into Harold. “You were also wonderful.”

Harold smiles softly. Siebren’s compliments never fail to ignite the sparks in his chest. It's not enough for him to ask for another round, but it's enough to make him feel warm and blissful in the afterglow.

“Does that mean you want me?”

An embarrassed blush caresses his face as he pouts. "C-could you clarify?"

"We both know what I mean. The next step. You know..." he gestures at the empty space between their naked bodies. "This."

"I do," Siebren whispers. Suddenly, as if just catching himself, averts his gaze. He bites his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. "S-sorry. About earlier, about me avoiding you. The last few times I got to this stage of a relationship I've...intimidated people with my size. I thought you would be the same. Clearly, I underestimated you."

"Clearly," Harold laughs. He snuggles closer into Siebren, lying his head under his chin. "So you don't mind if we do this from now on?"

"Do what, exactly?" His grin betrays the otherwise innocent tone in his question.

"Sex. Making love." Harold smirks. "Fucking."

"So crude," Siebren teases. He laughs softly as he envelopes Harold in his arms, pressing another slow kiss to his forehead. "Yes. I am ready. Although maybe not for the last one."

Harold smiles softly as he curls into Siebren's arms. There are so many things on his mind. He wants to know what Siebren likes and doesn't like during sex, if he has any kinks of his own, if perhaps they've got mutual fantasies that they want to try some time in the future. He wants to talk about it now so they are better prepared for next time, because he's sure next time will be even more spectacular than tonight, but Siebren is drifting away in his arms, already lulling off to sleep.

Harold smiles sleepily to himself as he stares at Siebren's sleeping form, brushing his hand over Siebren's warm cheek. Perhaps he can have that discussion some other day. He doesn't need to rush it. They're old men, with experience and time under their belt. As long as time is linear and the future is unwritten, they can go as slow as they want.

It’s late when they finally make their way to the breakroom for breakfast the next morning. Harold was in a mad scramble to find his glasses, only to realise he left them in Siebren’s room. Siebren himself was having an ethical dilemma on the proper disposal of used condoms in space, before admitting defeat and chucking it in his room’s sole bin. And then there was Siebren dressing and undressing and then re-dressing, which cost a bit of precious time. But they’re reasonably presentable, in fresh clothes, and best of all, they don’t look freshly fucked when they finally arrive in the kitchen.

It’s too easy for them to fall into familiar habits. Harold makes his way for the kitchen counter to make himself a sandwich while Siebren presses his tea order into the machine. “Make me a coffee,” he sleepily asks.

“Sure,” Siebren gruffly responds, tapping in Harold’s order. He's already memorised it long ago. The flat white is finished just as Harold plates up his PB&J sandwich. Siebren has already placed the drink near Harold’s usual seat, sipping his tea quietly in his own chair right beside Harold's.

Harold makes himself comfortable, sitting down and opening up the tablet he brought with himself and doing his daily sweep at the lunar colony’s integrity and the gorillas’ vitals. He bites into his sandwich, only aware in that moment of two eyes watching him. Siebren smiles softly at him, a knowing glint in his eyes. Harold can't stop the smile from spreading on his face as he takes a sip of coffee.

He barely glances up in time to see Yoshida and Nevsky approach them, smiling slyly. There’s the pop of a party popper, then the toot of a party pipe, performed by Yoshida and Nevsky respectively. Siebren jumps in his seat.

“Congratulations on your world record,” Yoshida laughs.

Siebren’s brows furrow in confusion. “What world record?”

“Oh no,” Harold murmurs.

From behind his back, Nevsky brings out two official looking documents. They’re both identical copies of the Guiness World Record certificate, with the original text whited out crudely, new text photoshopped on top. Nevsky hands one to Siebren, before sliding the other one to Harold.

On Harold’s certificate it reads ‘The world’s first butt sex on the moon was performed by Dr. Harold Winston (USA/China) and Dr. Siebren de Kuiper (The Netherlands) on Horizon One Lunar Colony.’

From the way Siebren’s face paled, Harold assumed his certificate read the same thing.

Yoshida and Nevsky are cackling like hyenas, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Harold’s only saving grace is that none of the other scientists are here, though by the amplitude of the laughter, the others might be attracted to the noise sooner or later.

“O-oh god, they really did it. Look at how they’re blushing. Look,” Yoshida heaves.

“Who’s the bottom?” Nevsky asks.

“Probably Harold. Look at how he’s sitting.”

Harold winces, not necessarily because his ass is a little bit battered from last night, but because his dirty laundry has practically been aired out for all to see.

“You two,” Siebren growls.

“Oh my god, I have to tell Zhang and Flores,” Nevsky giggles.

“You have to tell us all the details,” Yoshida says to Harold and Siebren. “I mean, someone’s gotta tell Guinness about this world achievement.” Yoshida and Nevsky continue to laugh.

Siebren stands up slowly, glares at the two, and then picks up both certificates in his hands and rips them into shreds. Their laughter quickly dies.

Harold stands up with a carefully neutral expression. He gobbles his sandwich up and drinks the coffee in one go, wiping his lips of the excess.

“If anybody needs me, I’m going to throw myself out of airlock E-35," Harold emotionlessly.

Siebren takes a few seconds to glare evilly at Yoshida and Nevsky before turning to Harold. "I'll join you."

[raywritesthings]

Classically Trained

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (Eventual) Characters: Laurel Lance, Ted Grant, Oliver Queen, Sara Lance, Quentin Lance, Team Arrow, Eobard Thawne Summary: The Dollmaker meets unexpected resistance when enacting his plan to destroy Detective Lance's soul, and Laurel ends up meeting a needed friend. Notes: Older Ted Grant, Metahuman Laurel Lance *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in my bio*

Laurel had never been more terrified. Not when she’d been attacked by the Triad in her own apartment, not during the staged prison riot at Iron Heights, not when Vanch had taken her hostage to use as bait against the Hood and not even when she’d been trapped under the rubble in the quake. Even though she’d felt for certain she was going to die before Tommy had come to save her.

Any of those instances, she could have died, and died with dignity. This, what the Dollmaker planned to do to her...this was a horror that went beyond death.

“Look at her. She's so lovely,” Mathis said as he leaned in close to her face. Laurel’s breathing picked up, audible with the tube stuck down her throat. God, she could feel his breath and it was sickening. “Maybe a little too much melanin in the skin, but...it's the imperfections that make art sublime.”

She couldn’t really process that backhanded compliment, not over her father’s pleading and the roar in her own ears. This was it. She was dying. No one was saving her this time. Not Tommy, not her father, not the Hood and not even Oliver and his military bodyguard. She’d lost or pushed people away too many times, and a maniac was going to kill her to destroy her father.

“She’s your world, she’s your very soul,” Mathis continued to wax poetic. Her father was shouting at him now. Laurel wanted to join him.

“I will kill you, you son of a bitch!”

She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t just die like this! Her chest hurt from the rapid heaves of breath she was taking and the hammering of her heart.

The white liquid started to filter down from Mathis’ contraption and up the tube. She was going to choke, and it would all be over for her in a few moments. Her whole life, reduced to a glassy-eyed doll for other people to look at and pity.

“Laurel, sweetheart...close your eyes,” her father begged, tears leaking from his own.

Laurel’s eyes did squeeze shut, but she wasn’t ready to go out quietly. She was tired of being helpless, tired of just existing as an object for other people to batter and use to their own ends, tired of bottling it all up and burying the pain and the anger deep inside.

So she screamed. Only it wasn’t just a scream.

The tube and the straps holding it to her face ripped away from her, hitting the opposite wall. Glass shattered on the table with his contraption and from the few lightbulbs above, raining down into her hair and stinging her cheek with tiny cuts.

Laurel coughed at the feel of the tube leaving her throat, and that was what ended it. Whatever it had been. She gasped for breath, looking around in wide-eyed shock. Nothing was like it had been.

Her father had slid to the ground, still strapped into place with his arms behind his back while his head hung down. She could make out the sound of him groaning.

Just to her left, Mathis was also sprawled. Red was leaking from his one ear, and it took Laurel a moment to register that meant blood.

Movement to her right near the table caused her to start; the Hood had just stood up. She didn’t even know when he’d gotten there, but he must have been using the table for cover.

Laurel coughed again. “What...what just happened?”

He stared at her, she thought. In the dim light left by Mathis’s Bunsen burner, his eyes were glinting. After a long pause, he finally answered, “I was going to ask you.”

What?

“Laurel,” her father stirred, struggling to rise back onto his feet. “Honey, are you okay?”

“I- I’m fine. I’m alive.” She was shaking, she realized, uncontrollably. No matter what had happened, she was okay. She wasn’t going to die.

The Hood went to her father and undid his bindings. The vigilante hung back as he rushed forward to her, taking the straps off her arms.

“I just don’t understand. I mean, how did you do it?” Her dad asked.

“Do what?”

“You didn’t- you didn’t see? Laurel, you- your voice or something, I don’t know. It nearly knocked me over if I hadn’t been tied to the pole!”

“Dad, that doesn’t make any sense,” she said. Her eyes searched out the Hood again, but this time he looked away. Then he started forward.

“Mathis!”

The serial killer was no longer sprawled on the ground but was crawling on hands and knees towards the nearest exit.

“Damnit, he’s getting away!” Her father yelled, fumbling for some kind of weapon.

“No, he isn’t,” a different distorted voice spoke. Feminine. The blonde woman from the other night jumped down from the rafters in front of Mathis, the staff she carried going under his chin. His neck snapped before any of them could so much as cry out.

Only when Laurel did, she saw it.

The air in front of her seemed to pulse with waves of volume, not far enough to reach the other woman, though her head turned sharply in Laurel’s direction with pure shock etched into the features she could make out. It mirrored Laurel’s own.

She stumbled back and nearly tripped over her own feet, the sound cutting off as she gasped. A hand flew over her mouth. “I don’t- I don’t know how that—” she mumbled behind it.

They were all just staring at her, wary, none of them approaching. Like she was diseased. She’d gotten herself out of danger, and somehow it was so much worse than being rescued.

Laurel turned and ran.

“Laurel!”

She didn’t turn back at her father’s shout and just kept going. When her feet started to hurt, she tore off the stupid heels she was wearing and carried them.

Everything was just so screwed up. The Hood has come to save her and her father, even after she had joined the task force hunting him down. He was a good person, or trying to be. What had happened last spring hadn’t been his fault, easier as it had been to just blame him. No, what had happened to Tommy had been her fault, just like whatever had just happened back at the Dollmaker’s hideout was her fault. What was so wrong with her?

Laurel sagged against a wall, breathing hard and too tired to go on any further. She had no idea where she was, but it looked like some forgotten corner of the Glades.

“Hey, you alright?”

She looked up. There was an older man across the alley standing at the back door of a building he looked to just be locking up.

Laurel shook her head, not sure if she trusted herself to speak. That weird scream could come back any moment for all she knew.

“Someone chasing you? Running away from a bad boyfriend? Need the police?” He checked, getting more shakes of the head from her. “Any reason you don’t want to talk to me? If it’s Stranger Danger, the name’s Ted Grant.”

Laurel swallowed. “I’m not scared of you.” Even if the guy looked ripped enough to be a member of the Queen family’s security detail, he held himself in a way that made him seem much more open. “I’m scared of me.”

He looked her over, and even though she could see him assessing her there wasn’t any kind of predatory edge to it. He turned and inserted his key back into the lock, opening the door again.

“Look, best to get this off the street. Especially these days.” She blinked and had to move fast to catch the keys when he flung them at her face after. “So you know you’re not trapped.”

“Right.” Laurel walked up to the door.

“Not bad reflexes, by the way,” he remarked.

“Thanks?”

When he turned the lights on, she got a better idea of why he might have commented on it. Laurel looked around the gym floor, the bags hanging at various intervals and the ring standing in the middle.

“So, what do I call you? You can pick a name,” he offered.

“Uh, Dinah,” said Laurel, cringing immediately afterward. Brilliant idea, pick her own name! Even if it wasn’t the name people commonly attached to her. But she was still too rattled to really concentrate. She should’ve gone with Sara, she realized, if it had to be a name she was familiar with.

Ted grinned. “Old-fashioned. I like it. Okay, Dinah, the first thing you gotta learn is, you can’t run from yourself. No one can. So what are you really running from?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, hugging her arms to herself. “It just happened.”

“What did?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out.”

If anything, his grin got wider. “Try me.”

Something about his brazen confidence was soothing at the same time it was aggravating. She knew he probably thought she was just some helpless, battered woman. Part of her wanted to prove him wrong.

Part of her wanted to know she wasn’t just going crazy.

Laurel turned away from him, trying her best to draw on some of that jumbled panic, fear and adrenaline still coursing through her system. There was a burn at the back of her throat, not painful but present, and somehow she just knew. She opened her mouth and screamed.

The posters on the far wall went flying and the heavy bags hanging at that end of the gym swung as if caught in a storm. Nothing shattered, thankfully.

“Do you see why I’m scared now?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I’ll be damned, Dinah.” He was staring at her now, too, but though the shock was there it wasn’t tinged with fear. Not like with her father and the vigilantes. If anything, he looked awed. “What are you gonna do with that?”

—-

He waited too long.

By the time Oliver reacted, Laurel was out the door and far down the street. He hurried into the night, but with no way of knowing which direction she’d fled in, he was hopeless to pursue her.

“Where did she go?” Lance asked, gasping for breath in the doorway. “What just happened?”

Oliver remained silent. In all his years away and everything he had seen, nothing like that had ever been among it.

“It was Mathis. He- he must’ve done something to her while I was out,” Lance was deciding for himself now. “And we can’t ask him, damnit!”

The former detective whirled back around, but the warehouse was empty aside from the Dollmaker’s broken body. The woman in the black mask had taken her leave as well.

“My associate and I will track you daughter,” Oliver promised. Then he fired a grapple arrow to ascend to the roof of the building next door. He hurried into the night, eyes scanning the streets below on his way to the base. He found nothing.

Oliver’s mind was still half on thinking of places Laurel might have run to — her apartment? Her father’s? A police station? — when he entered the base to find Felicity and John waiting for him.

“So, we heard a lot on the comms,” Felicity began. “Could you elaborate on what it all meant?”

“I got there, and Mathis was getting ready to- to turn Laurel into a doll,” Oliver said, covering his wavering voice with a cough. “Something happened before I could intervene.”

“Was it our mysterious blonde? Thought we heard something like that sonic device she had on her the other night,” Digg said.

“She was there, but no. It wasn’t her. It was Laurel. She…” He didn’t even know how to describe it. “She screamed and it, it just was a force, it came from her—”

“What do you mean?” Felicity was wearing a quizzical half-smile, like he was talking nonsense. He felt like he was talking nonsense.

“I mean it forced the tube out of her throat and Mathis to the ground. His ears were bleeding.”

“Laurel did that with a scream?” John crossed his arms, dubious. “Oliver, that’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” Oliver disputed. “I saw things. On the island. Not this, but...people are capable of more than we might think possible.”

John frowned. “How come you never mentioned that before?”

“Because it never meant good things,” he told them.

“So, what, you’re saying Laurel is bad now?” Asked Felicity.

“No,” Oliver answered immediately. He could never think that. It just didn’t make sense. It must have been Mathis’ doing, like Lance had said. Unless…

John had pointed out the similarity between the sound that had come from Laurel and the device the unknown woman carried. Why had she been there at all? Why had she been near Laurel’s office at all?

Now Laurel was out there, alone and terrified. He had to find her before she was hurt. Or worse, hurt someone by mistake.

And he had to find her before anyone else did.

—-

Ted had seen a few things as protector of the streets in his day, but this about took the cake. A woman with a scream to bring the house down. He couldn’t make this stuff up if he tried.

“What do you mean ‘what am I going to do with it’?” She asked, scoffing. “I don’t even know how I got it, and I don’t want it.”

“Don’t be so hasty. Look, I can see the bruises forming there on your wrists. Something happened to you, didn’t it? Or was going to.” She looked down now, ashamed. Ted worked to gentle his tone. “What got you out of it?”

Her chin lifted slightly, trembling. “Don’t you think I’m some kind of freak?”

He shook his head. “Freak’s not in my vocabulary.” There was something curious about her, though. Those fancy clothes and yet she looked like she’d been put through the mill the same as any of them in the Glades. And not just from whatever had nearly happened tonight.

“What I see is someone who was in a tight spot and figured her own way out of it. A way that might come in handy again. You never know.”

“Why do you care?” She was incredibly suspicious for someone her age. He could see the way she kept tensing at each show of goodwill. Who had hurt this girl so badly?

He shrugged. “I get a lot of people in here who feel lost, who need to work something out. Helping them is how I keep giving back to my city.”

“You think you can help me?”

“Depends. Are you looking for help?”

She looked ready to snap at him, maybe with that scream of hers, too. But then her shoulders drooped, and her mouth turned down in a frown so fundamentally unhappy. “I don’t know what I’m looking for. I just know I can’t- I can’t go back right now. There’s people who know, and they’ll be looking for me, and I just cannot deal with that right now.”

He nodded to himself. The truth was, he wasn’t comfortable sending her back out there to walk home, and none of the cabs drove around this area of the city at this time of night anymore. He walked over to the supply closet and picked out a hoodie and pair of sweatpants he thought would be in her size well enough. “You’ll want some of these. You alright with black?”

“Black’s fine. I- you don’t have to help me.”

“Nobody has to help anyone, Dinah. But that’s kind of the point. I keep a couple cots in the back for if people get carried away and knock each other out. Or themselves, sometimes. You can use one of those. Take a few days. Then tell me what you’re thinking.”

He set the clothes on a bench and started to head back to his office.

“Ted?”

He looked back around in time to catch the keys she’d flung back at him. Ted smirked. “Yeah?”

The closest thing to a smile he’d seen her wear all night rose on her lips. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Goodnight, Dinah.”

—-

Quentin was ready to rip out his hair. He’d gone back to the precinct, checked Laurel’s apartment and her office. Nothing, except her belongings some of the other beat cops had found along with his in the parking lot when Dollmaker had attacked them. Her phone was among them. He had no way of reaching her.

He’d been so stupid! Laurel was going through enough on top of Mathis’ sick attempt at revenge. She���d needed support, whatever the hell had happened to her. And he’d been too stunned to give it.

The first thing he did the next morning was to call the DA’s office. “Yeah, this is Officer Lance. I’m looking for my daughter.”

“I’m sorry, officer, Laurel called in this morning to say she was taking the week off. She cited personal reasons? In light of the attack on you both last night, we approved the absence.”

“Laurel called?”

“Yes, I spoke to her myself.”

She had access to a phone, then. That was something. Something good? He didn’t know. But she was out there, alive. That alone brought him relief.

“Alright, listen, if she calls back could you please tell her to call me? Thank you.”

He would keep looking in the meantime. If Laurel was hiding because she was scared or thought she’d done something wrong, he was going to be the first person to tell her otherwise. Maybe Mathis should’ve gone to jail again, but he certainly wasn’t mourning the creep after what he’d tried to do. And whatever that scream had been, they’d figure it out. They always had.

He just needed some help finding her was all. So he ducked out of the precinct and put in a call to Smoak.

“Officer Lance. Did you hear from your daughter?”

“No, and I’m guessing you haven’t either. Okay, I found out she called into her office to take off work for the week. They approved it, considering the abduction last night. But that means she’s somewhere with a phone. Can you do anything with that?”

“Not unless I had the number. I’m sorry, Officer Lance.”

He hung his head. He should’ve been expecting that. “No, that’s alright. Was worth a shot.”

“Well, at least we know Laurel is alive? Sorry, that came out worse than in my head.”

“It’s fine. Listen, I’m gonna do a sweep around the warehouse, so I’ll let you go.”

“Okay, but— Officer Lance?”

“Yeah?” He asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

Smoak hesitated. “We’re looking at a possible connection to the masked woman who showed up last night. If you see her, let us know right away.”

That was something. He hadn’t even put much thought into the woman who had killed Mathis. What was her deal? “Right, yeah. I’ll let you know.”

He hung up and got into his squad car, driving over to the Glades. He drove around the streets surrounding the warehouse for hours, but didn’t find a thing.

—-

Laurel rubbed at her temples with a groan. It was five o’clock somewhere, and she was stone-cold sober. That was definitely a problem.

In the cold light of day, she wasn’t really sure what she was doing here. Here being the Wildcat Gym, as she’d realized upon looking at the logo on both the hoodie and sweatpants she was borrowing for the moment. The name seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t remember why. She’d used the landline phone in Ted’s office to place a call into her work, knowing she did not have the energy nor the strength to show her face in there for a while.

Last year at CNRI, she would’ve hated taking even a day off. But the DA’s office was not what she’d hoped it might be. Kate still disliked her, Adam was...decidedly not the most professional. She rarely got to see or speak to the victims or families of the criminals they were putting away. It was all so impersonal. Lonely, like she was now.

The door to Ted’s office opened, and he entered with a sandwich in a takeout bag. “Thought you might need something to eat.”

“More like something to drink,” she grumbled, but took the food anyway. God, she was going to be in so much debt to this man when all was said and done.

When she glanced up, he was frowning at her. “You drink a lot, Dinah?”

“Please don’t start. Not you too,” she replied, starting to stand up. This had been a stupid idea and she needed to just suck it up and go back to work. It was weird being called by her first name all the time, anyway. She kept looking over her shoulder expecting her mother to be there when she knew she shouldn’t expect that ever.

“Look, I’m not judging. I know how it is. Got an injury a while back that ended my fighting career.” He gestured to the sidewall, where for the first time Laurel noticed a number of framed articles and trophies. Starling’s southpaw wins heavyweight title, one headline proclaimed. Another framed article mentioned a family being rescued from a fire by an anonymous stranger. 

She didn’t have the time to dwell on it, for Ted spoke again. “I took it hard, at first. Felt like I couldn’t do anything for anybody, much less myself.”

“So you drank?”

“So I drank. It only dulled the pain. It didn’t make it go away.”

Laurel looked down at the ground, her eyes squeezed shut. “Then what does?”

“Finding a way to keep doing what makes you feel alive. Come on, eat and then I want you to join me in the ring.”

“I don’t know how to box.”

“Yeah, that’s why I teach lessons, you know?” He smirked. “Eat first.”

She did, the headache lessening somewhat. She found a water fountain against one wall of the gym and that helped a little too. Laurel walked around various students at the bags or doing stretches, most of them male, and found Ted waiting in the ring. He watched her struggle to climb into it herself.

“Mitts,” he said once she was standing, passing her a set. She watched him put on his own and then mimicked him. “You do much fighting?”

“I took self-defense classes growing up,” she revealed. “And I’ve needed them a few times recently.”

“Alright, that’s not a bad start. But what we’re doing here isn’t some quick takedown maneuver. This is a fight. Let’s see what you got.” And then he took the first swing.

Laurel ducked, stumbling back a bit, then ducked again. He held back after that, watching her. She wasn’t about to let him keep just swinging at her, so she lunged forward. He dodged easily, bumping at her side with his left mitt. It wasn’t hard, but it still winded her a bit.

“Don’t overreach. Keep your fists up and your sides guarded,” he coached. Laurel tried to swallow around the mouth guard and did as instructed. By the time he was talking her through the combinations he’d been using, she abruptly realized her headache had dissipated on its own.

She felt way better, actually. Invigorated. She hadn’t actually known she could still feel alive after everything.

Ted was going easy on her, she could tell. It made her want to try all the harder. Even if she barely knew what she was doing. All she knew was it felt right. She felt wholly in control of her body and mind for the first time in months. Maybe years.

He called a stop after a few minutes when she was panting for breath, grinning broadly. He did that a lot. “Not bad, not bad. We can work on your form. Why don’t I show you the bags, and you can take however much time on each of them to get a feel for it?”

Laurel nodded, and this time he held the ropes up for her to help her out of the ring. They went to one of the speed bags first, as she learned it was called.

Ted was a really good teacher, she had to give him that. A day ago she would have scoffed at the idea of spending hours at a gym.

The one thing he couldn’t fix was that she was so not wearing the right bra for this. But that was a problem she could handle herself.

—-

Sara knew it was risking a lot for her to be seen out in the day, but that was something that couldn’t be helped. After Laurel had run from the warehouse, she’d assumed her father or Oliver would catch up to her and calm her down. But it had been three days, and her sister had yet to return to her apartment or her daily routine. So now she was searching.

After she’d arrived in Starling and ensured her family had made it through the Undertaking, she had found it hard to leave. Now she was glad she hadn’t. Apart from the serial killer who had abducted them, something was wrong with Laurel.

She’d heard the first scream up in the rafters and nearly panicked, thinking one of the League had finally arrived and was trying to draw her out with more of the sonic bombs she had borrowed from their arsenal. But then she’d seen the second scream for herself coming from her own sister’s mouth.

She’d seen things that were hard to believe in her time away and never thought they might come to her home. But someone had done something to her sister, and for that they were going to pay. If it had been the man she’d killed the other night, he already had.

No woman, especially one of her own family, was going to suffer as the result of some man’s experiment. Never again.

She had Sin looking on the streets while she scoured from the rooftops. So far there was no sign of Laurel. No news was good news, maybe, but she wouldn’t trust that her sister was safe until the evidence was before her eyes.

But a flash of red below her caught her eye for the moment. The boy from the other day that Oliver had sent running after her. He was hiding in the shadow of one of the buildings below her. Sara shook her head. Then she leapt to the next rooftop.

The chase continued for several minutes. Whatever she did, she couldn’t seem to shake him. He knew these streets better than her, she was forced to acknowledge. He’d probably grown up on them.

“Fine,” she muttered under her breath, taking a fire escape down into the alley he was watching her from now. Enabling her voice modulator, she thrust her staff out in front of her. “What does the Arrow want now?”

The boy watched her, keeping a good bit of distance between them. “He wants to know what you’ve done to a woman.”

Sara reared back. “What I’ve done?” The nerve Oliver had asking her that! Even if he didn’t know who she was.

“Your sonic stuff,” the boy in the red hoodie added. “He thinks there’s some kind of connection?” She could see some frustration warring on his features; obviously, Oliver hadn’t told him all the details and he wanted to know more.

But Sara had to pause as the question hit her. That scream had been like her devices, only more powerful. Was this the League? Were they punishing her for leaving by turning her sister into some kind of human weapon?

“If there’s a connection, it’s not my doing.” But it could be her fault. “I’m trying to find her the same as he is. And he can look at my record to know I don’t hurt other women.”

Sara jumped onto the lid of a closed dumpster, grabbed the ladder of the fire escape and ascended back to the rooftops.

If the League was here, why hadn’t they reached out to her first? She was sure they would soon, in order to show off what they’d done. She needed to find Laurel before any more harm came to her.

Her sister was never going to forgive her for this.

—-

Oliver paced behind her chair, which Felicity found nearly as distracting as his workouts. It had none of the side benefits, though.

“Do you think we can trust her at her word?” John asked.

“I don’t trust anyone at their word,” was Oliver’s reply, and Felicity nearly rolled her eyes. That explained a lot about his behavior, actually. “We can’t know anything for sure until Laurel is found.”

“Where could she be hiding out for this long, though, Oliver? We ran surveillance on Joanna de la Vega the last two nights and it turned up nothing. Lance has had no luck.”

“There’s something we’re missing,” Oliver said, not for the first time. Felicity largely tuned them both out, as she was in the middle of some very tricky hacking. Seriously, who knew a laboratory would have more advanced cybersecurity than the FBI!

“I have an idea!” She announced loudly, turning back around in her chair just in time to find Oliver and John glowering at each other. “If anyone would like to hear it.”

They both cooled off and looked to her. “Go ahead, Felicity,” said John.

“Well, the only thing we know is that somehow Laurel is able to scream really loud. Like, inhumanly loud. So, I have borrowed some satellites from STAR Laboratories to monitor the city for any high frequencies. If we can catch her using the scream-thing, we’ll know her location.”

“Or that other woman if she uses one of those bombs,” John pointed out.

“Either helps us,” said Oliver. “Good work.” Felicity did her best not to preen at the praise. He turned and left to change right after, then departed the base to start searching manually as he had been the last several nights. Felicity hoped Laurel showed herself soon, so that Oliver might start to focus on something other than finding his ex-girlfriend.

A beep on the computer was the answer to her hopes, and Felicity hurriedly reached for the comms. “Oliver! We have something on the corner of Farina and 7th, in the Glades.” Her fingers flew across the keys for a few seconds. “The only thing of note there is a gym, and it should be closed at this time of night.”

“Got it.”

Felicity turned to look back at John. “So, think it’s her?”

“I hope so. Whatever happened the other night with Dollmaker, we need answers.”

—-

It had taken some convincing, but Ted had gotten Dinah to join him on the roof of the gym. “Do you have a secret boxing ring up here?” She asked as they walked through the access door.

“No. But I figured this is as good a place as any for you to practice your other new skill.”

She tensed. “Ted, I don’t know.”

“Come on, Dinah. You’ve made a lot of progress already, and I don’t want to see you toss that aside because of something you’re scared of.” He really was impressed with her progress. She had a strength those skinny arms belied, even if they were working on that. Part of him wondered if there was more to his new student than her souped-up vocal chords.

“I don’t even know if I could do it again. It hasn’t happened since that night.”

“Because you’re holding back. Look, do you need to get back into some kind of zone? We can throw a few punches, see if that works.” He put up his guard and was proud to see she immediately did likewise. She wasn’t trusting him not to throw the first punch then. Stances ready, they circled each other, in tight to avoid any kind of accidents — it was a big roof, but still, best not to be stupid about it. She threw a jab that he blocked, then met with his own which she ducked under. There was a fire in her eyes that hadn’t been there the night they met, and this was the kind of thing that kept Ted going. Seeing others realize their gifts, their potential—

Someone landed on the roof in a roll, coming up onto her feet and charging straight at him. Ted only just brought up his arm to block a vicious swing of a metal staff, but it connected painfully all the same. Her next swipe took him off his feet.

“Ted!”

“Get downstairs!” He shouted to Dinah. If some crazy mask wanted to come after him, he wasn’t getting her mixed up in it. Ted grabbed onto the staff as it came down again and yanked it to the side, sending his attacker off balance. He followed it with a kick to her chest before scrambling back to his feet. She hadn’t even fallen.

“You’re going to regret holding a woman hostage,” she said.

“Hostage? Hold on, here.”

But she didn’t hold on. She came at him again and again, and Ted was nearing the edge of the roof. She had a killer’s intent, he realized, and that intent was laser-focused on him.

“Leave him alone!” Dinah shouted, and that high-pitched scream followed. The woman in the mask went flying and skidding across the roof’s surface, but Ted was knocked back.

“Whoa!” He flailed and caught the roof’s edge with his left hand, the strain of gravity on his own weight making him grit his teeth.

“Ted!” Dinah ran to him, reaching for his right to help pull him up which he gladly accepted. “God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

The whoosh of something and the chink of metal and stone was the only warning they both got before a figure in dark green and a hood — the Hood — swooped in on a freaking zip line. He caught Dinah around the waist and pulled her away. Ted only barely leveraged both arms onto the roof and kicked with his legs to pull himself back up the rest of the way.

“Hey!” Even if this new vigilante had changed his mind about killing, he sure as hell didn’t trust the guy with his student!

“Let me go, you’ve got it all wrong!” Dinah was yelling at the same time, pushing against the archer’s chest. Then her eyes widened. “Ted, look out!”

Blondie in the mask was stirring, only he realized her wig had been knocked off her head. She rose to her feet gingerly, shaking her head as if to clear the ringing that had to be in her ears.

Two voices cried out in shock in the same moment, one modulated and one not. But they both said the same thing: “Sara?”

Blondie winced. Ted looked between her and the other pair, who had both turned sharply to stare at each other in an almost comical way.

“Wait, how do you know — Ollie?” Dinah exclaimed.

The Hood or Arrow or whatever the hell he wanted to be called released her, taking a large step back and ducking his head like a boy who’d been caught stealing cookies and hoping nobody had noticed.

“Oh my God.” Dinah pressed the heels of her hands to her temples. “What is going on?”

The windows rattled slightly. She shut her mouth and glared around at both vigilantes instead.

Ted blew out a breath. This was going to be a much longer night than he’d anticipated.

—-

Laurel was going crazy. Had to be. That, or she had actually died that night by Dollmaker’s hand and the afterlife was weirder than any of the holy books claimed. But regardless, nothing seemed to be changing anytime soon and she had no idea where to start.

“You—” she looked at Oliver. Then she whirled to face her sister. “And you- you’re alive.”

Sara was staring at her toes. “I am, yeah.”

“How long have you been back?”

“A few,” Sara started, then cleared her throat as her voice had gone very quiet. “A few months. I heard about the earthquake and I- I had to see you all were okay.”

Laurel absorbed that for a moment. “And before that? Why haven’t you come home? Why haven’t you told mom or dad or me you’re alive?”

“Sisters? Geez,” Ted muttered from a few feet behind her.

“Because I couldn’t,” Sara answered. She took a step forward. “Laurel, I — the people I’ve been with, what I’ve done for them...I’m not the sister you remember. And I can’t come home. It would put you all in danger.”

There was so much she was feeling right now. Anger, joy, confusion, grief, hurt that the grief had been unnecessary. But no matter what Sara said, she had come back for them. She was her sister, and she was alive, and she’d come here to try and save her from Ted. Hilarious as that idea was. Laurel took the remaining steps, closing the gap that was between them.

“Sara, if you were in trouble, you should have come to us.”

“You don’t understand,” Sara said, shaking her head.

“I don’t have to. You’re my sister.” And she pulled her sister into a hug.

“Laurel…” Sara’s arms hung at her sides before suddenly they wrapped around her, as if she’d just remembered the action.

Laurel wasn’t sure deep down if she was totally over everything that had happened those six years ago. For one thing, she’d yet to hear an apology. But she’d forgiven Oliver. She couldn’t keep holding that grudge against her own sister. And sometimes, the only thing to do was to help, like Ted had said. Barely a week, and she was so much the better for it. If Sara could have the same—

A thought came to her, and she let her sister go before turning back to face Oliver. “Did you know?”

“No,” Oliver and Sara said at the same time.

“Actually, he thought I’d done this to you,” Sara added, sounding insulted.

Oliver grit his teeth. “I didn’t know you were her sister. I was working with the information I had at the time.”

“And that information led you both to decide Ted had kidnapped me?” Her teacher was smirking now, clearly taking his amusement from the drama playing out. Well, she did owe him.

“No one had heard from you,” Oliver said, an accusatory note to his tone that she might have yelled at except that she could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Did it occur to you maybe I needed some space? Some time to figure this out?” She asked in a measured voice instead, gesturing at her throat. “How was I supposed to reach out to either of you when I didn’t know you?”

Sara and Oliver both looked down, ashamed.

“I know I should have called dad at least,” she admitted. “I just knew if I talked to him, he’d insist on coming to get me and I- I wasn’t ready to face that. I still don’t know what to do about this.”

“You don’t know how it happened?” Sara asked.

Laurel shook her head. “I was terrified. He was going to kill me and I just- I didn’t want to die. I don’t know if that was it. I was just so tired of feeling helpless and waiting to die.” Her shoulders sagged as a weight seemed to lift off her, admitting that. “After Tommy — I didn’t think anyone cared enough to save me, and I didn’t want them to. It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Well it wasn’t yours,” Laurel snapped before Oliver could continue that train of thought. “You were the only one trying to put a stop to the quake, and I blamed you for it when I never should’ve.”

“Maybe the blame is with the man who started the earthquake,” Ted interjected. “Malcolm Merlyn. That’s not an easy answer when he’s too dead to care, but it’s the facts.”

Laurel looked down, then met Oliver’s eyes. He nodded, something in his gaze telling her that the mistakes she’d made with the anti-vigilante task force were forgiven.

“You two gonna kiss and make up already?” Sara asked.

“Sara!”

“What? He swings into save you like Robin Hood and you’re gonna act like nothing’s going on?” She shook her head. “It’s you two, always and forever.”

Laurel’s mouth hung open, looking between her sister and Oliver. “I...am not ready for that conversation.”

“That’s fine,” Oliver said, and she thought there was some red under the greasepaint she could make out smeared over his face. He then turned more serious as he looked to Ted. “We do need to talk about what you know.”

“Hey, you came onto my roof. I didn’t ask for this,” said Ted. “But if you’re worried, no, I’m not running to the cops once you leave. It’d make me a hell of a hypocrite for one thing.”

“Wildcat,” Laurel breathed in realization. “I remember — one of my clients mentioned you the first year I started at CNRI!”

Ted shrugged, the closest to bashful that she’d seen him.

“He was a local vigilante in the Glades a few years ago,” Laurel explained to both Oliver and Sara, who seemed to relax upon hearing that statement.

“Yeah, so your secret’s safe with me. Anyway, a friend of Dinah’s is a friend of mine. Or Laurel’s, I suppose, since that’s your real name,” he added to her.

She smiled sheepishly. “They both are, actually. Dinah Laurel Lance.”

Ted smiled back. “Good to meet you properly, then.”

“Yeah, and I guess this is goodbye. I should really get back home. I need to stop running from myself.”

“You’re not the only one,” Sara said. She looked back to her sister in confusion. “I’ve been staying in one place for too long. The people I left...they’ll come here to try and get me back. And they’ll use you and dad if they can.”

“Sara, we can help you.”

Sara shook her head. “I couldn’t keep living if one of you were hurt or, or killed because of me. I have to do this, Laurel. I couldn’t handle it when I thought they’d already done something to you, your voice or...whatever caused that scream, I’m hoping you can use it to keep yourself and dad safe. At least until I can make my way back here.”

Laurel couldn’t believe she was expected to give up her sister the minute she’d learned she was still alive. It wasn’t fair. Impulsively, she hugged her again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sara said, her voice wavering. “Always and forever.” When they stepped back, she looked to Oliver. “I’m trusting you to keep them safe, too.”

Oliver nodded. “Always. I...if there’s anything I can do.”

Her sister shook her head. “Not this time, Ollie.” She took Laurel’s hand and squeezed it tight, then let go. Taking it at a run, she leapt from one roof to the next, eventually disappearing from sight.

Laurel sniffed, trying to hold back tears at her sister’s departure. A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked back up at Oliver, who had crossed the roof to stand with her. “I can get you home,” he said quietly.

“Thank you. Really, thank you.” She turned and slipped her arms around him, seeming to surprise him nearly as much as Sara had been with the hug. Laurel had to admit, it was strange knowing she was even hugging their city’s vigilante. But he wasn’t just that. He was so much more. “I understand better now, why you had to go.”

He drew in a breath, then put his own arms around her. “I wish I hadn’t.”

Laurel stepped back and offered him a shaky smile. Maybe they couldn’t go back. But in time, they might just be able to go forward. “Give me a minute, then I’ll be ready.”

She walked over to Ted. “So, thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it. Those clothes you showed up in are still downstairs, you know.”

She made a face. “Burn them.” There was no way she could see herself wearing them again without thinking of the Dollmaker at his hot breath on her neck...it was better to just leave that all behind.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye, you know. You’ve only just started your lessons.”

She found herself smiling. “I’ll pay you for the rest.”

“It’s a deal.” He turned and headed for the access door. “See you around, Dinah.”

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, I think it fits.”

Laurel shook her head. “If you say so.”

He headed downstairs and she walked back to Oliver’s side. “Lessons?” He asked.

“Yes. Like Sara said, I have to protect my family. And my loved ones.”

“Right,” he agreed, looking confused.

Laurel sighed and nudged him. “That includes you, Ollie.”

“Oh.” His eyes were wide, and she bit her lip to stop a giggle. “I’ll get you home then.”

She stepped into his hold as he fired off another grapple arrow, jumping with him to let it carry them across the city.

Her life was destined never to go the way she ever planned. But as long as she kept getting up to fight another day, Laurel was determined to let nothing keep her down again.

—-

As he recruited more and more of the brightest minds this century had to offer to the labs, it became harder for Eobard to slip away and conduct his daily ritual. But he always managed to do so. He was meticulous about it; the scientific method only worked if it was adhered to, after all. And his plan was grounded in science, not impulses of anger like his last plan had been. That was what had doomed him to be stuck here, after all.

This particular day, he was anxious to reach the Time Vault in order to better organize his thoughts, cast into turmoil by a piece of news out of Starling City. Professor Eobard Thawne cared little for Starling City news, but Dr. Harrison Wells hailed from Starling and as such received a copy of the Starling Gazette every morning. Eobard usually only bothered to skim the contents once a week or so to keep appearances that he was informed about the meaningless day-to-day of the 2010s, but an article from earlier in the week had caught his eye.

A serial killer had been murdered by a vigilante after abducting Dinah Laurel Lance and her father. The autopsy noted a broken neck as the ultimate cause of death, but reporters also noted Barton Mathis’ eardrums had been ruptured. There was no stated cause and, most crucially, no statement on the record from Dinah Laurel Lance.

“Good morning, Dr. Wells,” Gideon greeted him once he entered the Time Vault.

“It’s an interesting one, Gideon. Daily Log, just under fifty days before the particle accelerator is set to erupt and my experiment truly begins at last,” Eobard said, confident Gideon was getting it all down. “There has been a complication. An early sighting of one of the Justice League: Black Canary.”

Not the prototype of her sister, either. That had no consequence; Rip Hunter would remove her from the timeline soon enough. But bleeding ears meant the Black Canary herself, and the presence of her civilian identity only confirmed it.

He had further evidence. Gideon had flagged a security breach the previous night at their location in Starling. Someone had remotely accessed their satellite information to do a localized search encompassing the city limits.

And that someone hadn’t been hacking his labs’ data for just any frequency information. Someone had hacked it specifically to find the Canary’s frequency. A frequency she shouldn’t be able to achieve yet.

Or should she? The little he had read about other heroes besides the Flash from his time had never definitively stated what caused Black Canary’s sonic capabilities. He had assumed like most academics that she was a metahuman like all the rest, created in the particle accelerator explosion. But assumptions truly had no place in academics.

Was she something else? A genetic mutation, perhaps, triggered in the event of extreme stress? Or was this perhaps an anomaly, a time aberration the likes of which he had been dreading?

Eobard had kept a close watch on the timeline since the murders he had committed at the turn of this century. He’d done everything he possibly could to make sure events aligned — but then, they couldn’t align completely, could they? These changes he had made could not be stopped from rippling outward, and he was aware already of some of the effects both large and small. So far, the future had not changed too much; Crisis was still waiting for the heroes and the future waited for him. He was unstoppable, his own aberration.

Perhaps the universe had decided an equal and opposite reaction was required. Black Canary’s early presence meant an established hero for Barry Allen to look to, and Canary was notorious for having a strict moral code. If Barry became too close to her and Green Arrow, he might not be as malleable as Eobard hoped. He might even become the Flash he hated once again.

But then, that could be a gift in and of itself. It would be so much sweeter watching his hated enemy realize Eobard’s betrayal.

He’d have to keep a closer eye on the developments out of Starling City from now on, of course. “Gideon, show me results for the Black Canary.”

“Of course, Dr. Wells.”

His eyes scanned the photos, the articles. Black Canary joining the fight alongside Green Arrow, Hawkgirl and the Flash along with countless heroes. The Birds of Prey teaming up with Wildcat to stop an illegal fight club. Dinah Laurel Lance-Queen running down the courthouse steps with her new husband.

“Until we meet again for the first time, Black Canary,” Eobard murmured under his breath. “End Daily Log.”

[allthings-fantasy]

See You Again - Part 9

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1670

Warning: language, blood, violence

Authors Notes: Here’s part nine guys! Shit really hittin’ the fan now. 

Part 8     Other Parts

“You kissed him?” Jason practically screeched from across the kitchen, dropping the coffee creamer back to the counter. “What did I tell you not to do?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you leaned against the island, giving him a sheepish glance. “In my defense, I also stopped him from kissing me.” One of your eyebrows raise and your head tilted.

Addison stopped her coloring at the counter to let out a small giggle. “Ew, Y/N has cooties!”

Jason’s eyes widened before enthusiastically nodding. “Yes she does! Gross cooties from a jerk.” His nose scrunched up as he addressed his daughter, making her laugh harder.

You knew you should’ve left that one detail out of your story, but Jason would’ve detected that you were hiding something. That’s why he asked to see you in person to talk and not just over the phone. After you practically left Dean in the dust at the restaurant, you headed straight home. You just felt like being alone, no Jas breathing down your neck trying to figure out what happened.

It wasn’t a bad kiss, not by any means, but it was bad that it happened. Dean Winchester was a man of your past and you had every intention of keeping him there, in the past. But those damn green eyes and soft lips had little crumbs of your walls falling down. That was when you came to the decision that there was no more Team Dean. You couldn’t do that to yourself again.

Glancing at your watch, you sighed at the time. “Alright, if you two are done with your teasing some of us have to go to work!” You grumbled and grabbed your tote from the ground.

Jason scoffed and took a big swig of his coffee, “Not my fault you didn’t take the job at my firm, you could work from home every day and spend more time with this little munchkin.” He ruffled Addison’s locks and gave you a knowall glance.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and gave Addi a kiss on the forehead before giving Jason’s cheek the same treatment. “I really have to go. I’ll text you on my break.”

-

This was the one shift you were dreading all week. You normally worked four, ten hour days and had a three day weekend. Although this week there was mandatory overtime, leaving you with a lovely thirteen hour shift. An extra three hours doesn’t seem so bad until it has you getting home at 1am.

Thankfully, it was a pretty busy day up until the last two hours. Patients were dwindling and there weren’t too many over-nighters. “Alright, Y/N. It’s time for me to head home, think you can man the station for a while?” Sherry winked at you before tossing her hair into a messy bun with a huff.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You head home.” You gave her a soft smile and bid her a goodnight before turning back to the files on the nurse station in front of you. By the time your shift was over, your eyes were begging to close and your feet were aching to feel some carpet.

You packed up your work bag and tossed it over your shoulder before heading out of the break-room and out towards the lobby. The parking lot was dark, aside from a few lamp posts that lit the entrance. A light fog hung in the air that almost seemed too heavy for your lungs to handle. Of course you had to park your car in the back of the lot.

Footsteps in a parking lot were not something to be concerned about. But something about these specific ones had the hair on the back of your neck standing. Maybe it was the fact that they fell in perfect pace with yours, or maybe because they were walking directly behind you. There was only one car parked beside yours and it was Carey’s, who had just started her shift.

Walking past a vehicle, you casted a sideways glance in the window and caught a glimpse at the person looming in your shadow. Something in your gut told you to run, to not turn around and figure out what this man’s problem is.

You could feel your heartbeat begin to pick up, an uneasy thudding in your chest that had blood rushing to your ears. Looking up, you realized how close you were to your car. All you had to do was get to your vehicle and you’ll be in the clear.

Reaching for your keys in your bag, you realized the steps behind you were no longer there. Slowing your pace slightly, you swiveled your neck to look behind you. Nothing. It was almost as if they were never there. Your brows furrowed for a moment, but you quickly shook your head and muttered to yourself. “Fucking losing it…”

Turning your attention back to the original direction, a heavy thud was shoved against your back. The wind was knocked from your lungs as you tumbled forward, landing face first on the concrete. A groan left your mouth as you felt a trail of blood begin to trickle from your nose.

Taking a second to gather your bearings, you slowly began to roll onto your side. Your eyes focused just in time to see a leather boot come in your direction. A solid kick landed on your ribs with such a force that knocked you onto your back. Your head was spinning and it felt as if your torso was going to be covered in bruises along with a few cracked ribs.

Blinking your vision into focus, you peered up at the man standing at your side. “Who are you?” You croaked, cringing as the taste of blood began to filter past your lips and drip onto your tongue.

A melodic chuckle rang out from above you and he slowly squatted down beside your head. “I’m the one your friends, the Winchester’s, are looking for.” The vampire’s smile grew as your eyes widened. “Don’t be scared, little one. I’m not going to kill you.”

Your nose wrinkled in disgust as one of his cool fingers trailed over your cheek to your neck. “What do you want from me?” It hurt to breathe, your chest felt too heavy and his touch alone made you want to throw up.

Deep dark eyes twinkled at you and his lips twisted into a sick smirk. “I want you to be my little messenger.” His fingers traveled along the length of your collarbone before wrapping tightly around your neck. Your back arched off the ground as your air supply was suddenly cut off. You clawed at his wrists, trying to get any kind of relief you could manage.

His thumb pushed your jaw until you head was tilted back, neck completely exposed to him. A sharp burn shot through the side of your neck that had your mouth opening in a silent scream. Your body thrashed, fighting against the monster on top of you with what little strength you had left. He pulled away with a satisfied moan, your blood smeared over his lips and chin. “Tell them to stop looking for me, or the next time I won’t stop.” He squeezed your neck one more time before disappearing in a blink.

You don’t know how long you laid there, trying to gather the energy to stand back up. You were able to get onto your knees with a whimper and a grimace. It took another two minutes until you were able to stand up fully. Your bag was drug along the ground, your ribs in too much pain to try and lift it. Another twenty feet and you were at your driver’s door.

There was no way you were going to make it the whole way to your house and you were too scared to be alone. Jason lived right down the road and was your only option left. You kept your left hand pressed against your neck to keep the bleeding at a minimum. It was making your dizzy and you could feel your eyes threatening to droop.

The seven minute drive to Jason’s turned into fifteen and it seemed to last even longer. By the time his house came into sight, your body was starting to turn limp and the edges of you vision were turning black. You only managed to get the front two tires in the driveway before you had to stop. Your hand dropped from the wheel and shoved the car into park.

Your breathing was shallow and you couldn’t tell what hurt more, your neck or your ribs. There was a light still on in the living room and you prayed that he was still awake. A grunt left your lips as your pushed against the horn as hard as you could, the loud horn making you flinch.

The curtains of his window began to rustle and you faintly saw his silhouette before he was gone. A moment later, the front door was slammed open and your head rolled to the one side before your eyes slowly blinked shut.

The sound of your car door opening had your eyes peeking open. “Y/N?!” Jason’s frantic voice met your ears. “Baby what the fuck happened?!” He leaned inside and carefully pulled your hand away from your neck, a string of profanities falling from his lips. “Okay, okay we gotta go to the hospital, right now!”

“No!” You lurched, the sudden movement made you cough hard, your ribs screamed at the sudden movement. “Call Dean…” You couldn’t open your eyes anymore, you were just so tired. If you just slept you know you would feel better.

“What?! No! You need an ambulance!”

You grunted and shook your head. “You don’t understand, just… call him. He’ll fix this.... Please, Jas.” There wasn’t much after that that you remember, you’re not even sure how much longer you stayed conscious. But the darkness that met you was comforting and for the first time that evening you finally felt okay.  

TAGS: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Rope Trick (baon)

Summary:   It wasn't that Stretch really minded being told what to do. He just had to weigh how much fun he would have obeying versus not.... 

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Role Reversal, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Sex, Lemony Goodness, Not Work Appropriate, Joking Reference To Using Drugs to Make Someone Take a Damn Nap

Warnings:  I do occasionally throw Not Work Appropriate content in this series, so if you missed it, note the tags. This chapter contains all that with a little light bondage. All happy-times and consensual.

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read on AO3

-or-

Read More Here

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch didn’t really mind doing stuff when Edge asked. Sure, it wasn’t quite as fun when the requests were for tossing laundry in the dryer or washing the breakfast dishes, but hey, you took the good, you took the bad, learned about the facts of life, all that shit.

Sometimes, though, Edge didn’t ask so much as he…well, ordered, and Stretch wasn’t sure if it was an ex-captain of the guard thing or if it was just an Edge thing, but if he were really, really honest, he didn’t mind that very much, either.

He highly suspected that Edge knew he didn’t mind, too, but it didn’t mean he had to make it easier for him, did it? Nope.

So, when Edge came up behind him on the porch that afternoon and loomed, Stretch gave him a minute to glare, smoking the last of his cigarette before he asked, lazily, “okay, baby love, what exactly has you in a twist on this fine, fine day?”

Didn’t hurt that the faint tightening of his jaw told him that Edge wasn’t any fonder of his new pet name than he had been ‘momma bear’. Stretch planned to draw that minor annoyance out for a while yet, hell, yes, he did. It was always worth it in the end.

“Go take a shower and meet me in the bedroom,” Edge told him curtly before he turned on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving Stretch on the porch with a half-burned cigarette and an equally burning curiosity.

He took enough time to finish it before he stood up, groaning as his joints popped. Okay, he’d bite and see where this was going to take them. Sure as hell wasn’t like he had any better plans, especially not if he took Edge’s resourcefulness into account. His bones were already tingling a little thinking about it.

Edge was nowhere around when he went in; off somewhere plotting manically, he guessed, and that was all right. At least Stretch’s end of this bargain was an easy one.

If Stretch had to guess, he’d say washing up was because he’d been smoking like a chimney for the past couple days as ciggies were the only thing keeping him from running screaming out into the unforgiving world/their neighborhood, and he didn’t want to scare any of the kiddos that way.

Stretch knew a little something about the time/space continuum and if he didn’t know better, he’d say they were stuck in a fluctuation because this week was starting to seem pretty fucking endless and that was a fact.

Sure, he loved having Edge around, but that also meant having Edge around. When he wasn’t off taking extra jogs through the neighborhood or filling their already overflowing freezer with neatly labeled packages, he was prowling through the house like a caged leopard, cleaning everything so thoroughly that Stretch was pretty sure he’d seen the furniture cringing away from him.

Edge seemed to be struggling a little with the whole ‘relaxing’ thing he was supposed to be doing, and his struggle was becoming Stretch’s battle.

It wasn’t like he had any good recommendations to share. Naps were Stretch preferred stress relief, and yeah, he wasn’t getting Edge to take a damn nap without chloroform, which Stretch suspected went against that whole ‘love and cherish thing’ he’d promised not that long ago. His fault for not reading the fine print.

Television was the next best option, but that was usually a nighttime activity for them, one that involved copious cuddling and maybe some sex. Stretch hadn’t been able to convince Edge that ‘Travel Man’ would be just as excellent at lunchtime.

(he could have gone to the lab to escape for a while, could have, hadn’t been back to the lab since…and the first time he’d tried, he’d only gotten to the door and frozen, dread thick in his soul, and he couldn’t force his feet to go down the stairs, he couldn’t, and…and…and…)

…yeah, much as he loved Edge, he was this close to saying fuck it all and calling Asgore, begging him to let Edge come back to work early, if only to spare his own sanity.

So, hell, yeah, he’d gone right upstairs for a shower when Edge told him. Didn’t half-ass it, either. Stretch scrubbed up with plenty of body wash on the weird pink bath poof that Edge had bought, and who came up with these things? Whoever it was, Stretch owned them a G or two, because seeing Edge using it with great dignity in the shower every morning was worth getting up early for.

Stretch soaped up thoroughly, sudsing away any hint of cigarette smoke. Instead of putting on his dirty clothes back on, he tossed them into the hamper and went to the bedroom in just a towel, dewy-fresh as a spring virgin.

Only to blink at what Edge was wearing, his towel wilting in his grasp.

The roads were kinda treacherous in the winter, or so Stretch had been told, and Edge always put his motorcycle into storage when the weather turned snowy. That was a good thing, his baby was all about safety, but the bad part was Stretch missed seeing Edge in his leather pants during the winter months. It was a view that made him long for warming sunshine of spring.

Apparently, Edge had decided to use this opportunity to break them out a little bit early. The belt hit his pelvis below the curves of his iliac crests and he was wearing a cut-off black t-shirt that left the intricate lines of his spine on display, the whole ensemble paired with elbow-length red gloves.

It was disconcertingly similar to what he’d been wearing when they’d first landed in this universe and even then, Stretch had noticed how attractive Edge was; he’d been depressed, not fucking blind.

The only difference was his bare feet, pale bone against the dark carpet of their bedroom and Stretch let himself focus on that for a minute, trying to gather up his fleeing wits.

“if i’d known we were roleplaying, i would’ve picked a better costume.” Not too bad; at least he’d managed a decent level of sass.

A quick glance up confirmed that Edge heard the roughness in his voice, damn it. He smirked, cocking his hips in a way that made all the magic in Stretch’s mouth go dry.

“What you’re wearing is perfect,” Edge said. He crooked a finger at Stretch. “Come here.”

He did, but he took his damn time about it because he wasn’t a puppy that came when he was called. Unfortunately, standing in front of Edge with all that tantalizing bone within reach was exactly where Stretch wanted to be, so it kinda ruined his defiance.

With two fingers, Edge plucked the towel loose, letting it fall to Stretch’s feet and leaving him completely bare. He gave the newly exposed bones a long, slow look before he said, “Get on the bed.”

Oh, so that’s how they were playing? Stretch didn’t move, only asked sweetly, “what’s the magic word?”

Edge coolly raised a brow bone at him. “Is it worth hearing me say it once, knowing that I’ll have you screaming it later?”

“promises, promises.” But Stretch grudgingly did it, fussily making himself comfy in the middle of the bed with his head on one of the pillows. The way Edge’s eye lights raked down him made magic flush in his joints, stirring in his pelvic cavity and Stretch forced himself not to squirm. Didn’t want Edge to think he was too eager, not yet, anyway.

That was when he caught sight of the length of rope in Edge’s hand.

There was no way to hide the bright surge of his magic flaring, but Stretch went with nonchalant anyway. May as well make the attempt. “planning something special, babe?”

“I know you’d let me tie you up, if I asked,” Edge said bluntly. He held out the rope and let it dangle from his fingers. The end brushed against Stretch’s femur, scratchily ticklish.

Yeah, okay, fuck nonchalance.

“fuck, yes, i would,” Stretch breathed. Almost automatically, he lifted his hands over his head, crossing them at the wrists in blatant invitation. Edge’s eye lights narrowed, the crimson deepening.

“But I find I’m uncomfortable with the idea.” It took a moment for the meaning to filter through and once it did, Stretch could only blink in surprise, some of his desire fading back. “I haven’t been able to get past the idea that it might hurt you, love, and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. I couldn’t.”

“okay,” Stretch said, slowly. There wasn’t much point in arguing about it; he could snarl about his low HP and intent until the universes turned over again and shook them out someplace new, but in the end, Edge felt how he felt, and it was his choice. Sooooo…what was up with the rope? “then what did you have in mind?”

Edge shifted to put a knee on the bed, leaning over where Stretch’s hands were still above his head. He set the length of rope in Stretch’s hands and gently closed his fingers around it. It was soft in his grasp and Stretch could easily picture Edge testing lengths of rope, making sure to find something that wouldn’t be rough or irritating on his bones.

“I want you to hold that,” Edge told him. One gloved finger traced lightly over Stretch’s and he tightened his grip reflexively. “Keep your hands there, and don’t let go.”

“is that all?” Stretch asked skeptically and Edge hummed in amusement.

“No, as a matter of fact,” he said lightly. “I want your promise that you won’t let go.”

Oh, that was dirty pool, wasn’t it. But if that was the way Edge wanted to play…

”i promise.”

“Don’t let go,” Edge warned, and that earned him a scowl because Stretch had promised, hadn’t he? But that was okay, Stretch knew all his warning buttons, too, and knew exactly how to push them.

“you got it, boss.” Stretch didn’t miss the way Edge went briefly still, the faint tremor that went through him.

He leaned down, close to Stretch’s ear canal, and whispered, “Careful, don’t earn yourself a debt that you can’t repay.”

Stretch only tilted his skull until it gently knocked against Edge’s. “my mouth has been writing blank checks since i was born. we going to play or not?”

In answer, Edge moved down the bed to straddle Stretch’s femurs. The leather of his pants against his legs matched the leather of his gloves, buttery-soft, rasping against bone as he ran his fingers down Stretch’s rib cage, tracing his sternum, the fragile lines of his collarbone.

His touch was so familiar and once upon a time, in another world when he was another person, Stretch would have thought he’d get bored of hands that knew him so well. He might have laughed about it carelessly and moved on to the next anonymous body, and hands that didn’t know a thing about him and didn’t care to.

Now he could only whimper softly, the rope laying heavy in his own hands as Edge lingered at places he knew were sensitive; the spot where his ribs met his sternum, teasing the cartilage of his spine within his rib cage. Edge knew him, knew every part of him, and Stretch craved that touch like his own breath.

Those gloved fingertips skirted along his pelvis, swirling the heavy cloud of unformed magic that surged towards his touch.

Weakly, Stretch managed a teasing, “what are you thinking? pick a toy, any toy, babe, and you can play all you want.”

Edge took hold of his pubic symphysis firmly enough to make Stretch yelp, hooking his finger into the notch, and said bluntly, “I want your cock.”

The words were barely spoken when his magic took shape, giving Edge what he’d asked for. He took hold of the shaft in both hands, rubbing his thumbs up the underside, his weight holding Stretch down when he moaned and tried to lurch up into that touch.

“Beautiful,” Edge whispered, “Your cock is always so beautiful.”

Stretch squirmed, feeling magic heating in his cheek bones. He had a little of a love/hate thing going for the way Edge liked to talk about him. He didn’t want to hear that shit, except for how he desperately did, he didn’t want to want to hear it—all his fumbling thoughts shorted out when Edge shimmied down to crouch over him, tonguing lightly at the head, a smear of orange magic vibrant against the crimson of his tongue.

“fuck,” Stretch croaked out, twisting the rope in his hands, feeling the slight burn as it abraded lightly against the bones. Edge’s mouth was hot, always, the lush warmth of his magic reflective of his HP. The curl of his tongue was teasing, refusing to find a rhythm and when Stretch tried to arch up, firm hands settled on his pelvis, holding him down implacably.

Distantly, he had to give Edge credit; whether he’d come up with the idea himself or he read about it somewhere, trying to keep his hands tight around the rope while Edge was taking him apart with equal parts gentleness and calculated ruthlessness was nearly an unbearable struggle.

It took every ounce of his dwindling restraint to keep from grabbing Edge’s head and make him stop teasing, fuck, he couldn’t, he—

Even if he could have covered his mouth with his hands, there was no way Stretch could have smothered his cry of disappointment when Edge drew away, licking his teeth clean. The heavy way he was breathing was satisfying at least, the hot, crimson glow of his eye lights promising.

When Edge unzipped his pants, Stretch expected him to pull out his cock, hoping that maybe they’d get some nice, simple frottage going. He loved it when Edge held their cocks together, the slick slide of their magic in his fist, and both of them coming over the deep crimson of Edge’s glove would be a lovely sight.

Instead, he moved to slide his pants off entirely and Stretch was not expecting it to reveal the soft folds of a cunt.

“edge…” Stretch started, concerned. Two gloved fingertips resting lightly against his teeth silenced him.

“Trust me to know what I want,” Edge told him softly.

“i trust you,” Stretch whispered hoarsely, because he did, he trusted Edge with his life, his soul, his sanity, everything, but not always with himself. He still couldn’t help but watch as Edge straddled him again, slipping a hand between his own legs to circle a thumb over his clit.

“I’ve been practicing,” Edge groaned, his hips pushing into his own touch.

That sounded ungodly hot. The thought of Edge alone on their bed with his knees spread wide and two fingers deep inside of himself…or maybe using a toy, teasing himself with a dildo or a vibrator. Stretch wouldn’t have been the slightest bit surprised to find out that Edge had thoroughly researched best practices for learning to orgasm through penetration. It had taken him a little while to get into the physicality of sex, but once he had, Edge was the furthest thing from prudish about it.

Even from here, Stretch could see his pussy was glistening wetly and hell, maybe he’d missed a show while he was in the shower, what a fucking shame.

He only noticed how hard he was gripping the rope when his fingers started aching and Stretch forcibly relaxed his hands even as he caught his breath, not even blinking as Edge shuffled back, reaching between them to hold his cock, guiding it to press against slick folds.

“ah, fuck, fuck, babe,” Stretch gasped as Edge slid down. He couldn’t look away, watching his cock disappear into him. Edge’s sockets were closed, his tongue caught lightly between his teeth and he was so gorgeously tight, lushly wet. He took his time, moving agonizingly slow, until Stretch was deep inside him, feeling his cunt clenching sweetly around him as Edge settled against him.

“There,” Edge said hoarsely. He opened his sockets, his eye lights wide and soft, spreading his hands out on Stretch’s rib cage for balance. The first tentative shift of his hips dragged a cry from deep in Stretch’s soul. They’d only done this a couple of times before and it had been nothing like this, any of his own pleasure muted, washed away by Edge’s obvious discomfort in it.

Nothing at all like this, with Edge finding a rhythm, clumsily at first and then moving with more confidence. Shifting and squirming until he found an angle that left both of them gasping. Edge moved faster, his jaw dropping open as groans strangled out of him, his own control shaking loose as he moved harder, relentlessly.

Stretch struggled against the rope as if it was actually binding him, because wasn’t it? Binding him with a promise and he could only clutch it, grinding it painfully into his finger bones and he could only let Edge ride him, the tight softness of his cunt easing and then sucking him in each time Edge rose and fell. It was too much, it was unbearable, all the heated magic in his bones coalescing into a hot point of pleasure.

“oh, fuck, i can’t—” was all Stretch managed to choke out and then he was coming, his magic flaring with the throes of his orgasm, and he didn’t let go of the rope, he didn’t, shaking and whimpering, and coming inside Edge with a hot flood. It lasted a tiny eternity until he collapsed back against the mattress, sweat dripping from him and Edge still on top of him, unmoving while Stretch slowly went soft inside him.

Um, yeah, he hadn’t actually ordered a side of humiliation with his sex today.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” Stretch said miserably, closing his sockets against the embarrassed heat rising in his face. Sure, it had been a long time since he’d had sex that way, but damn, Edge never came before him, always made sure he was satisfied and the first time Edge had really been enjoying penetrative sex, Stretch had gone off like a fucking firecracker.

Soft leather brushed his cheek bone, fingertips grazing, “No need to apologize for that, love, you’re beautiful when you come. And it isn’t as if I’m bereft of other options.”

A quiet, wet sound made him open his sockets in time to see Edge sliding a hand back between his legs, gloved fingers rubbing where they were still joined. His moans were soft, eager, and he moved into his own touch, his pelvis rocking minutely as he rubbed his thumb against his clit.

Stretch’s hands flexed, his sore phalanges clenching around the rope, desperate to join Edge’s, to touch him and watch pleasure flare in his eye lights.

“let me help,” Stretch pleaded.

“No, I don’t think so,” Edge panted, all his collectedness lost, his bones gleaming with sweat. “You want to be forgiven? Then you can watch.”

And he did, until his sockets ached with dryness, unable to look away as Edge’s little movements went jerky. The leather of his glove was soaked with mingled orange and red, his come seeping out to slick it, trailing obscenely down Edge’s femurs.

His fingers moved faster, almost desperately, and Stretch watched as Edge stiffened and came with a cry, shuddering and jerking, his magic sparkling brilliantly in brief, gorgeous flare. Soon enough he sagged down to sprawl heavily across Stretch, all awkward bones grinding against each other. He stirred quickly enough, before his weight was too much, shifting up on his elbows but Stretch didn’t notice.

Instead, he was trembling desperately, stuttering out, “please, uncle, okay? please let me…let me… i need to…i need…please…”

“You can let go,” Edge told him hoarsely and instantly, Stretch’s arms were around him, fumbling over him. Sweat slicked his hands as he tried to touch Edge everywhere, needed to touch him, his fingers scraping against his ribs and spine, grazing between his legs and drawing a hiss from Edge as they slid clumsily against his still-sensitive cunt.

“beautiful, fuck, baby, you were so beautiful, i love you, i love you so much,” Stretch babbled out, quieting as Edge soothed him, stroking him and settling him. He pulled the comforter around them both before their sweat cooled enough for Stretch to feel chilled.

When Stretch was calmer, curled up drowsily against him, Edge took hold of one of his hands carefully, lifting it and frowning at the lightly chafed bones.

“don’t start fretting, edgelord,” Stretch mumbled sleepily. “that’ll be gone in a couple hours and you know it.”

“it was supposed to be a way to keep you from being hurt,” Edge said softly. He pressed a gentle kiss into Stretch’s palm. The heat of his breath was soothing.

“believe me, i’m not complaining,” Stretch said dryly. Tired as he was, he managed to tip his head up enough to look Edge in the face. “if that was hurting me, consider this an open invitation to do it again, anytime.”

The emotions that flitted across Edge’s face went too fast for Stretch to interpret before they disappeared beneath Edge’s normal stoicism. Not much use in pushing the point right now and Stretch snuggled back into the comforter, resting his cheek against Edge’s sternum. Bone against bone wasn’t perfectly comfortable without a thin cushion of clothing between them, but Stretch wasn’t about to let Edge go long enough to put on some pajamas, not now.

Beneath his cheek bone he could feel the delicate pulse of Edge’s soul, unmanifested but it was there, its presence strong and comforting. Even better, he could feel Edge’s breathing evening out and Stretch smiled a little, cuddling closer.

This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined getting Edge to take a nap, but he had to admit, it was better than his plan.

Getting chloroform was a bitch, anyway.

-finis-

[magioftheseas]

Saccharine

Summary: Junko gives Matsuda (poisoned) chocolate and Kamukura eats it. Komaeda is given too much chocolate by his classmates. Matsuda wonders about the three of them. TDP-verse. I guess.

Rating: G

Warnings: Mentions of hospitals/medical stuff. Junko poisoning chocolate in the background. Matsuda’s language.

Notes: I wanted to write something short and sweet for Valentines Day and this is what I came up with. It just kind of...ends so I guess it’s in the style of one of my ficlets, just considerably longer. Still only about 2K tho. I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s cute, they’re cute, so I was just like “eh let’s go for it”.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

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“Spit it out.”

“Nnn...”

“FUCKING SPIT IT OUT!!!”

“Nnnnnn.”

“DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE, YOU IDIOT?!”

Matsuda cursed colorfully, squeezing the other’s face harder and still getting nothing more than that impassive expression and a rigid, stubbornly shut mouth. It was definitely, abso-fucking-lutely like dealing with either a stubborn toddler or a dumb, misbehaving animal.

“For fuck’s sake, Kamukura,” he hissed, digging his thumb into the corner of that stupid, stubborn mouth. “Come on. Spit it out or else.”

Kamukura, just to spite him, swallows. Matsuda, actually taken aback, flinched with a sharp gasp. And then, he smacked Kamukura hard upside the head. Kamukura was barely affected, as per usual.

“I do not know why you are so concerned,” Kamukura says simply. “I am immune to most poisons.”

“It’ll still make you SICK, you fucking idiot!” Matsuda screeched. “Also—what kind of fucking dumbass knowingly eats poisoned chocolate anyway?!”

Kamukura hums, rubbing his cheeks, at least.

“I was curious as to what she could concoct.”

“She’s not out of the fucking fire, either,” Matsuda grumbled before spinning Kamukura around and shoving him forward. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

“Matsuda Yasuke, that will be unnecessary.”

“Did I fucking stutter, asshole?” Matsuda gave another harsh shove. “Rather than talking back like the little bitch you are, you’re going to be formulating ten-page apologies to me for the fucking trouble you’ve caused.”

“Mm...” Kamukura moved, at least. “Very well, then.”

Matsuda rolled his eyes and kept on pushing for his own sake, grumbling as he did.

Seriously, what even the fuck was that?

The worst part is that he knows how much of a fucking nightmare it’ll be telling Junko off later.

I usually just toss her chocolates because I know better but the one fucking time I neglected to do so... Dammit, did that bitch plan this or what?!

God, Matsuda was so angry he wanted to scream. But he needed to hurry because the last fucking thing he needed on his head was Ultimate Hope getting sick in the middle of the damn hallway on his watch.

Urgh. This week is already off to such a shit start.

--

It only makes him feel a little bit better when Kamukura is in a more sullen than usual mood afterwards. He’s only slightly relieved that in the end, Kamukura wasn’t all that affected by whatever the shit Junko cooked up. But he couldn’t take risks and thus, the poison had to be extracted and thoroughly filtered out, which was never a pleasant experience.

It was Kamukura’s own damn fault. Just what the hell was he thinking?

The scientists say that his thinking goes beyond human comprehension, but I can’t help but think he’s just—a fucking idiot.

Still, with how Kamukura was pouting, Matsuda supposed he felt a little bad. But only a little.

“If you wanted chocolate that fucking badly, I could’ve given you one from one of the reserve girls,” he sighed, shaking his head. “And if you were that damn curious about Junko’s then we could’ve gotten it analyzed. You really, really shouldn’t have just eaten it.”

“What would you have done with it if I hadn’t?” Kamukura asked. “Would you have simply tossed it in the trash?”

“Uh... Obviously?” Matsuda made a face. “Did you think I’d eat it out of obligation? Like fucking hell?”

“You have done unreasonable things for her before,” Kamukura pointed out and—ouch. That stung a little.

Probably because it’s true. Urgh. But...

“I wouldn’t let her poison me,” he muttered. “I’d draw a line there.”

“I see...so you do draw lines...”

“Everyone has limits, dipshit. People aren’t absolute in anything.” Yes, people are always capable, but... Seriously? Is that really what he thinks of me? Gross... I feel so gross... “I mean...”

“They say love has no limits,” Kamukura said. “That when someone is important to you that there is nothing you will not do for them.”

“Yeah... That’s a load of bullshit. No one’s actually like that.” A pause. “Oi. Are you seriously curious about that? Love?” Matsuda cringed. “I don’t love Junko. Not like that. I don’t love anyone. Not... Like that.”

Disgustingly, he can’t help but get a little flustered about it.

It’s the fault of this shitty consumerism holiday.

“Boring,” Kamukura said.

“Yeah,” Matsuda agreed lowly, head ducking further. “Super boring.”

But I guess at least I get free chocolate out of it... Even if it’s going to backfire when I refuse to buy anyone candy for White Day.

Kamukura seemed rather quiet, which wasn’t unusual and his expression was unreadable as always. His stride didn’t change, nor his posture—Kamukura Izuru really made for a convincing robot with human skin.

He might as well be that.

And yet, Kamukura just ate up chocolate that he left lying on his office desk like a child. Or a dog. Maybe a cat.

Cats are way cuter, though. But...

“If you weren’t such a weird damn cryptid who only lurked in the shadows, I’m sure you’d be given your own chocolate,” Matsuda said, huffing as he folded his arms back. “But I bet you would’ve stolen mine anyway, huh? Jerk.”

“Boring,” Kamukura repeated. “Obligation or affection—I have no need for such frivolities.”

“It’s consumerism, not necessity,” Matsuda replied. “It’s supposed to be frivolous.”

Although, sometimes there’s good chocolate to be had. Murasame has surprisingly good taste.

“Boring. So boring.”

“Yeah, yeah. Geeeez.” Matsuda groans. “God, what can even be done about you?”

--

And then, this happened.

“Matsuda-kun! There you are! Oh.” Komaeda’s once bright smile comes crashing down like weights from a snapped cable. “Kamukura-kun.” For what it’s worth, Komaeda does manager another smile, albeit one that’s stiff with unenthusiastic formality. “Greetings to you as well.”

“We don’t have an appointment today,” Matsuda said, unimpressed. “Don’t fucking tell me that your jackass classmates chased you away again.”

Komaeda shook his head with a laugh.

“Oh, no, no.” His shoulders shake and Matsuda realizes that Komaeda is holding something behind his back. “Um. I actually just got embarrassed and before I knew it, I ended up here, aha!”

Embarrassed? Hah?

Before Matsuda could ask, Kamukura speaks up.

“You were mortified by simple obligation chocolate? Is that really all it is?”

Ah. Komaeda flinched as Matsuda’s lashes lowered. So they offered him that, at least. And this guy—was still taken aback.

“U... Um...” Komaeda is still flustered, too, shifting and shuffling awkwardly. “Earlier, the girls got together and made chocolate for the class... And they didn’t forget me... I was so happy but also so ashamed for causing them such trouble...”

“Oi, oi.” Matsuda strides forward, reaching out and pulling at Komaeda’s cheeks. “Just because it’s called obligation chocolate doesn’t mean they were held at fucking gunpoint or whatever. You have no reason to feel bad, dumbass.”

Komaeda whined as he pulled.

“B-But...! Someone like me...!”

“I’ve met your fucking class, Komaeda,” Matsuda hissed. “You’re in the higher tiers, at least.”

“N-No way!”

“Haaaaah? You calling me a liar?”

“N-No!” Komaeda gasped, aghast at the thought. “N-No, no...! I... I-I... Uuu...”

Matsuda let go of him, grumbling and crossing his arms.

“Just fucking accept the damn chocolate. It’s free so what are you complaining for? You’re rich so I doubt money for White Day is even remotely an issue.”

“Aha... Haha... Receiving anything from someone like me might just be...” Komaeda trails off. “Gross...”

“You really are boring,” Kamukura remarked. “Your self-deprecation follows such a predictable and unrelenting cycle. Does it not get exhausting?”

Komaeda twitched, clearly a little irritated with how his brow pinched even as that smile remained.

“...I don’t really like sweets,” he went on, ignoring Kamukura entirely. “And they gave me quite a bit. I was thinking I’d share it with Matsuda-kun.” A pause. “But I guess Kamukura-kun can have some, too. If he wants, of course. Oh, right, Kamukura-kun doesn’t want anything.”

Matsuda snorted. Komaeda turned away with a huff, finally looking like the prissy elite he was.

...it should piss me off, but when it’s Komaeda...

“I will take some, then.”

“E-Eh?!” Komaeda jolted. “W-Wait, seriously?!”

Kamukura just took one of the chocolates from him.

“Thank you, Komaeda Nagito,” he said coolly, to Komaeda’s sputtering face. “It will be boring, I am sure, but I do appreciate it, all the same.”

“B-Buh...!”

“I guess I’ll take some, too,” Matsuda said, shrugging as he plucked up his own. “Did they give you any dark chocolate?”

“Oh, um...” Komaeda hesitates, looking down at what remained. “Actually this is...dark. Yes. I ended up with all three types.”

“Then you can keep that,” Matsuda said before turning to Kamukura. “Oi, if what you grabbed was white chocolate, you have to switch with me, got it?”

“Boring.”

“I’m taking that as an ‘understood’. Dick.”

Komaeda’s lips twisted, but Matsuda pulled him towards the patient bed so that he could sit with them, with Matsuda in-between. Komaeda blushed a little at their shoulders touching but Matsuda and Kamukura, of course, were pretty unaffected.

Externally, at least, Matsuda thought irritably. Internally, on the other hand...

It’s aggravating how he was just a little flustered at how Kamukura nibbled at his chocolate, at how Komaeda ended up chuckling before unwrapping his own.

“It’s nice,” Komaeda said. “Being together like this. It’s almost like we’re a trio of friends! Oh, but someone like me isn’t deserving of someone like Matsuda-kun as a friend.” Pause. “Also I don’t really want to be friends with a false hope like Kamukura-kun.”

“So boring,” Kamukura hummed.

“That poor attitude doesn’t help,” Komaeda huffed. “Matsuda-kun’s prickliness is cute, but you’re so dreary, Kamukura-kun.”

Matsuda nearly fucking choked.

“E-Excuse me?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Komaeda said innocently.

“Ugh.” To forget about it, Matsuda just began wolfing down chocolate. It was sickeningly sweet. Enough to make him puke. He couldn’t get enough. “This actually isn’t half-bad. Fuck.”

“It is mediocre,” Kamukura said, popping the rest into his mouth. “However... It was made with enthusiasm.”

“Don’t fucking talk with your mouth full,” Matsuda snapped before swallowing. “That’s just rude.”

“Ahahaha...” Komaeda’s smile fades. “This really is nice.”

What’s up with that face?

Komaeda doesn’t elaborate. The one damn time Matsuda is half-itching to hear the other ramble at unnecessary length. It might be a sign of the dementia treatment working wonders in giving Komaeda a sliver of restraint and self-control, but—Matsuda couldn’t help but be seriously annoyed at how clearly deep in thought Komaeda is.

But I could probably figure it out if I really wanted to. And why should I care? I’m this kid’s babysitter, not his best friend. For him and Kamukura both... I really have my hands full...

For not the last time, he wonders if things will really be alright.

Not just for my sake but... For these two, as well. When we all graduate, will we still be together like this? Shit, gross, that’s so...sentimental.

Matsuda shook his head and finished up his chocolate.

“...so sweet it’s sickening,” he mused. “Just how I like it.”

Komaeda giggled.

“Maybe I should make you chocolate... Oh, but if I did that, you’d get food poisoning for sure.”

“Then Kamukura would love it,” Matsuda huffed. “So make some for him if you do.”

Kamukura perked up at that.

“...Komaeda Nagito’s cooking skills are incomprehensible.”

“I-I’ll look up how to make it on the internet, first,” Komaeda grumbled, a little red-faced. “I still don’t approve of your existence, Kamukura-kun, but I would rather not make you sick.”

“If you want to get your stomach pumped again, be my guest,” Matsuda said coolly.

“You really shouldn’t, though!” Komaeda exclaimed. “That’s just an unpleasant experience, Kamukura-kun!”

“...I am aware.”

“Then you really shouldn’t do it!”

After we’re done at Hope’s Peak—I wonder what’s going to happen to us?

“You both,” Matsuda said, rolling his eyes. “Are really fucking noisy.”

I guess I wouldn’t mind continuing to look out for them.

“You both really need me, after all,” he added, with that thought in mind.

Kamukura huffed, but Komaeda jumped at that.

“E-Eh?!”

[betterreadthandeadbookclub]

Review of After You by Jojo Moyes

Spoilers ahead! Enter at you’re own risk. This review can also be found on our website! Here’s the link to the page!

Addie’s Take:

 First of all, I still feel very ‘eh’ about this book. To quote the great Geneva herself when talking about the new Beauty and the Beast movie “It was the definition of adequate”. I had a lot of issues with the large plot points of this book. After loving Me Before You, I was left with the hope that Louisa was going to be okay after Will, that she was going to live well and boldly. She was going to travel, yes she was going to grieve, but she would have the memories and know that Will was satisfied with his decision.

Lou really disappointed me.

 Not in how long she grieved or was depressed, because do you really get over something like that? Or does it just become a part of who you are and you live on despite it? Lou was working at an airport bar, hating her job, boss, and uniform. I can just see Will cringing. He’d be saying something like “Are you fucking kidding me, Clark? I literally told you, you only get one life and it’s your duty to live it as fully as possible."

This Lou feels so different to me. She's lost her large personality, and I'm not sure if that's her grief or just poor writing. Lou was always the girl with a clever comeback and had absolutely no filter. Now it feels like she barely cracks a joke. The whole book was spent with Lou wallowing in self pity and guilt. I kept asking myself "Where the hell is this going?"

   I felt the events in this book were so unnatural and improbable. It came across forced, like drama just for the sake of drama. What are the chances that she falls off a roof, through an awning, and lands on a fucking daybed? AND LIVES? And if that wasn't enough suddenly Will's long lost kid shows up who no one ever knew about. THEN when Lou finally finds a new guy, her paramedic no less, HE GETS SHOT. Honestly this felt more like fan fiction and not work that we know Jojo is capable. 

Back to the random kid.

 Lily is inconsequential to the story, she just brings in the Will aspect for readers. Without her, Lou still would have fallen, survived, gone to her therapy group, met Sam the paramedic, and STILL would have gone to New York without him.

  I felt like this book was really unnecessary, it doesn’t add anything to the original story. On top of that, Jojo recently announced she’s writing a third book, because ‘I’ve always seen it as a trilogy’.JAYSUS. If a second book wasn’t necessary, what the hell is going to happen in this third book?

         Lou gets shot in NY? Hit by a taxi? Gets her green card revoked by a new Executive Order travel ban? Will has another kid no one knows about? Sam dies in a plane crash visiting her? Somehow Lou survives another improbable situation? Because doesn’t SOMETHING have to happen? Otherwise we’d just be reading about Lou changing bed pans and making tea in New York for her new employers. Because there’s a crying need to publish that, I’m sure *eye roll*.

     Ok so this is pretty harsh, but despite that I didn’t entirely hate it. Without comparing the two stories, it’s okay, it just doesn’t compare to Me Before You… like at all.

         Part of my dislike might be that Will simply wasn’t a part of it. It was really hard for me to grasp that this isn’t Will’s story. It also isn’t Lou’s and Will’s story. It’s Lou’s story, and I had a hard time accepting this.

         Let’s be honest, when Jojo publishes the third book, I’ll read it. Because it’s Jojo. But will I enjoy it? Not likely. The only possible way this story was ever meant to be a trilogy was if Jojo stretched out Will’s death until the third book. Then we could get more witty banter, more detail of the short time Lou spent with Will. Maybe then I would actually enjoy all three.

         With the first book, I loved it: I cried, I worshiped it. That’s not the case here, and if I have to think of the journey ending with Me Before You just to sleep at night, I will. I had hope then, I was happy then.

If this feels like a rant, sorry.

BUT! There were a few good things that came out of this reading experience. Louisa’s dad said “Jaysus” at one point in response to climbing too many stairs and it has now become Geneva’s and my own favorite saying and reply during texts. Also- back, crack, and sack- I just can’t. I actually burst out laughing when Lou’s dad said that.

         Anyway… If you loved Me Before You, and read it mainly for Will (like I did), I wouldn’t recommend this sequel. If you weren’t satisfied where the previous book was left, and you want more of Lou after Will, then this is the book for you. Bear in mind- you might not like how she spends her life after him.

Geneva’s Take:

I had high hopes for this book, and I am not going to be as harsh as Addie , but I will be honest and say this book is definitely one I wish I skipped. It has its moments, but they were sparse. Overall, I was underwhelmed and slightly annoyed, but I don’t think all readers will feel this way. For instance, if you had experienced a death close to you, maybe you would relate more and appreciate the 75% of the book that was a wallow fest straight from Gilmore Girls.

 Also, if you are super into the feminist movement, 10% of this book is for you! Go get it girl! Mothers with bratty teenage girls, you get a spot on the team as well-20% (Why you would be reading a young adult novel is another issue). Anyone with a medical personnel fetish, you’re in- 2%. I am attempting to give this book a break, but WHAT WERE YOU THINKING JOJO!

 For anyone that read the first book, it is clear that it ended on a positive note, with Lou in Paris ready to follow in Will’s footsteps and get out of her small town bubble. This however came to a crashing halt as readers stepped into Lou’s current world in After You. Honestly, it was a large amount of complaining, majority being self deprecation, dash of relationship, sprinkle of a bastard child, hint of bad parenting, and finish it off with the cherry of almost fatal gunshot wounds.

As you can see, this novel is everywhere and nowhere that the audience wanted it to be. I looked at the comments that literary critics gave the book on the back cover (they only put the good ones obviously), and I found a striking number of ones that said it was unexpected. I can appreciate that because it was definitely unexpected, but it wasn’t followed through as well as I hoped. Reminded me of an off brand Fault in Our Stars without the cancer (there are an overwhelming amount of similarities actually).

 I mean look at any one of the Bridget Jones books/movies. British. Out of relationship. Lonely. Staying in crappy flat. Not supportive mother. Nice dad. But what is After You missing? A strong influence of Colin Firth-like character (strong, bold) and WITTINESS. Lou lost her character. Her appeal, and unfortunately the book suffered because of it.

I’d like to think I am an average reader that doesn’t take much to be pleased. Little romance, little humor, and an actual plot and I’m ready to go. Though, this seriously felt like they were trying to get more money from their viewership and readers. The book didn’t add a whole heck of a lot to the original story line either. Who knows? Maybe I just had unrealistic expectations like she would be traveling all over, meet some friends (did anyone notice she has none?), find a guy, perhaps get a dog…?

         I can see a third book as well as Addie. After I finished this novel, I called her and said that Moyes will certainly end up breaking up Lou’s relationship, Nathan may come on to her making her quit her job and work at a gas station, she may get mugged, insert bad view of America on top of it. It’s all rather bleak. But hey, no where to go but up I suppose!

         All I know is that I wasn’t impressed, and I guess not a big enough fan to stay with Lou through the thick of it (I did for you guys, you’re welcome) and enjoy it.

Better Read than Dead, Addie & Geneva 

Have you read After You? Let us know what you thought! Join the conversation on our website forum. It’s super interactive and you can talk to us about books we’ve read or books you think we should read!

Also check us our on Twitter @betterreadbc and on Insta @betterreadthandeadbc 

[angelicspaceprince]

The Doctor’s Lines

Author: Anna

Title: The Doctor’s Lines

Pairing: Doctor/Time Lady/Lord!Reader (9-12)

Character/s: 9-12 Doctors, Time Lady/Lord!Reader, Gender Neutral!Reader, mentions of and actual various companions cameos, few OCs

Word Count: 5, 222 words

Warnings: Nothing but fluff and cringe-filled pickup lines. There is a minor mention of depression in one of them.

Tags: elyshakate

Notes: I know I’ve been a way for a while and I’m sorry, uni and stuff. But thanks to the amazing inthisformiambadwolf and their amazing Ten/Reader story called To Have and To Hold, and their other stories too (check them out guys like seriously, they are all perf), plus the current marathon I’ve been having has led to this. I’m hoping this will lead to either a series or be a trial run of a Doctor/OC fic I’ve been thinking of. We will see what happens. Also, I don’t have access to any Classic Who…so it’s all from 9 to 12. You also be married (aww.) Also, sorry its jumpy I’m working on a fic idea so its kinda put into this as well so practice run? Also some of them (like the Snowmen episode) I chopped a massive bit out because I was going off of memory and didn’t have the time/energy to fix it, but if this does become a series and I do use these scenes again, then I’ll just rewrite as I can. Also, sorry about the shit title, I kept changing it. Still not happy with it, might change it later.

Buy Me a Coffee

The Doctor’s Lines

You had been married the Doctor through nine regenerations and ten faces, so you’d think you’d know him like the back of your hand by now. But every now and again, he’d pull something new out to keep you on your feet. And with his tenth face, his stupid, big-eared, leather-jacket-wearing face, his love of puns also formed its way into the form of extremely cheesy pick-up lines.

The first instance of this was just before you met the lovely Rose for the first time. When travelling by 1837 to view Queen Victoria’s coronation ended up with the two of you on the run from a small group of rogue fish-like aliens. His hand in yours, pulling you along somewhere were the two of you could recalculate your position.

“Doctor, over here!” You call out, pulling him towards an empty shop at the end of the street. Closing the door behind you, you simultaneously release a sigh of relief. You take a few steps back as his hand leaves yours as the Doctor goes to investigate the shop. “Alright, what now? Clearly, they are scared and trapped here. Not an invasion, we just need to figure out how to communicate with the-”

“Hey love?” You spin around to see your husband sending you a cheeky grin. “You had me at cello.” He declares proudly, holding the neck of the said instrument. You try to hold back your smile.

“Not the time, dear.” You state softly as he puts the cello away. He pouts.

“I thought it was clever.” He looks over at you and you try not to laugh at the fully-grown man sending you puppy-dog eyes.

“It was very clever love, I’m very proud.” He perked up, grabbed your hand and started to plan what to do next.

~

After that, it was like the Doctor made it his personal mission to find the cheesiest and worst pick-up lines to use on you. His next body was more flirty, and loved to think he was smooth.

The two of you raced down the corridor, trying your best to avoid DALEK fire. The two of you wait in the corner, waiting for a clear path out. “You alright, Doctor?” You quietly ask as you keep a look out.

“Fine, fine.” He mutters. “Ready?” You hum in agreement. “Before we go, here, hold this.” He holds out an empty hand. You turn to look at him, his hand, then back up to his grinning face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You think you are so smooth.” You grab his hand anyway as he begins to pull you away.

“I think you’ll find that I am so smooth.” His face turns from saucy to pouty again. You quickly kiss his cheek before the two of you take off running once again.

“You are so lucky that I love you.”

~

During one of your more quieter days was when the bow-tie wearing Doctor retook up his hobby of bad pick-up lines. After attempting to fix the Doctor’s fiddling with the TARDIS, you were taking her on a test flight when you felt two arms wrap around your waist. He kisses the side of his head as he watches over what you were doing.

“I bet 20 credits that you’ll turn me down.” He whispers into your ear.

Without hesitating, you place 20 credits into his hand and work your way out of his grip, moving to check another part of the panel, fighting a smirk. When you look up, you snort at the look of disbelief still plastered on the Doctor’s face.

“You alright, dear?” You can see what just happened computing in his brain as you grin. Feeling slightly bad (not really) you saunter over and pull him down for a kiss by his suspenders, trying to wipe the look off of his face. “I love you Doctor.”

“I love you too.”

~

The big eared Doctor wasn’t impressed with you. After you had saved Captain Jack Harkness from certain death, the two of you got into a massive argument. You were still fuming over the stupidity of the fight and were too hot headed to apologise, demand an apology or try and talk out the situation. Knowing this Doctor the way you do meant you seriously doubted that you were going to get an apology, even though it was equally both your faults.

You turn onto your side and pull your blankets up to your chin as you curl up on yourself. You just wanted to sleep and tomorrow forget that today ever happened.

You hear someone shuffling along the corridor outside your door, causing you to retreat into your warm hideaway just as they gently knock on your door. Once. Twice. You hear a sigh before something is slipped underneath your door.

You try to ignore it, but curiosity eats away at you until your feet lead you to the door almost automatically. The fancy, thick paper has clearly the Doctor’s messy handwriting scrawled in the middle. You hesitate before seeing what he has to say.

‘If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d have a galaxy in my hand.’

You wanted to stay mad as you bit your lip, he was a jerk after all. But as the blood rushes to your face, you release that in this generation, this was the apology you wanted. Or as good as you could get anyway.

You open the door to see his semi-sheepish face looking back at you. “Ready to go?” You look back down at the paper before nodding, leaving your room with your arm through his.

“You are a massive sap, you know that right?”

~

You rolled your eyes at the Doctor as he rushes around the TARDIS, trying to back her up to get the side of the Titanic out of her. “Why did you have her shields down anyway?”

“I was rebuilding her!”

“Doctor, the last time you were rebuilding her, you froze her Chameleon circuits!” When you don’t get a response you huff and move to move the TARDIS for him before putting up the shields once more. “Doctor, its like you are a white dwarf. Extremely hot, but not very bright.” You mutter to yourself. His saucy look returns as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You think I’m sexy?” You raise an eyebrow.

“And overconfident.” You add sarcastically. “Go get changed, I want to go dancing on the Titanic.”

~

Today was just one of those days. The Doctor had just gotten his sight back, which was a relief, but he was already getting into trouble. After the situation was resolved with the Ice Warriors on Mars, you were helping the Doctor, Bill and Godsacre finish the message to be seen in the future when the Doctor looked over to you, excitement clearly plastered over his face. ‘Oh no,’ you thought as he walks over, ‘he’s got a bad one coming.’

“Do you live on Mars?” He asks as soon as he is close to you. “Cause you are out of this world! Ha!”

“Proud of that one?” You ask dryly.

“Extremely.”

“Good, glad one of us is.”

~

You look out for Donna as she searches for her perfect man now that everyone has been evacuated from the library’s computer. It had been a long day, not quite defeating the Vashta Nerada (you did need to be gone within the next twenty hours, but you weren’t going to be eaten so you were kinda in a stand still at the moment), losing River and briefly losing Donna drained all of your energy as you morn the loss of yet another innocent person in your life.

The Doctor could tell that you just wanted to sleep and forget today had happened, your body language was enough to alert him that you probably weren’t going to be wanting any amazing adventures any time soon. Still, he wanted to make you feel better as he came to stand next to you.

“There was nothing we could have done.” He offers. You hum. He’s right, River had knocked you out and chained you to the wall, you probably would still be there if Lux hadn’t walked past twenty minutes later. “We got her saved into the computer, we might be able to get her out one day.” You simply look at him.

“Doctor, I love you, but we both know she is stuck there for the rest of the CAL’s life.” He nods. “But she is alive.” Silence rings between the two of you before he grasps your hand.

“I have a library card, do you mind if I check you out?” He smirks for a second before looking down at you worried. “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to say that all day and I-” You cut him off, laughing lightly.

“They just keep getting worse.” You chuckle before laughing harder. The Doctor smiles. You were going to be okay.

“I was thinking somewhere relaxing for our next trip, less running and so on. Do you think Donna would like a spa day?” The Doctor offers as you look at the disappointed Super Temp returning to where you were standing.

“I think so. Have any spa in mind?”

“Thought maybe Midnight, the diamond planet?” You nod.

“Sounds like a plan.”

~

Clara, the Doctor and you landed in the middle of the snowy forest, you instantly start shivering. The Doctor starts rubbing Clara’s arms to warm her as she complains and he explains the heat loss filter would kick in soon.

“I wish we had actual clothes.” You offer as Clara walks off and he turns to give the same treatment to you.

“Do you know what this shirt is made of?” The Doctor offers, trying to hide his excited smile. You sigh, another one was coming up.

“Technically, you aren’t wearing a shirt.” You try to defuse the inevitable cringe-worthy, cheesy line that was going to come next. He pouts, ignoring Clara as she walks closer towards the hand in the snow. “Fine, what’s it made of?”

“Boyfriend material.” He declares proudly.

“We are married, you complete and utter dunce.” You state fondly as you give him a quick kiss.

“You look cold. Want to use me as a blanket?” He offers as you take a step back.

“Seriously, why are you like this?”

“Clara step away from it!” You both shout at the same time, the hand grabbing her ankle.

“Don’t look away from it, it’s a Weeping Angel.” You explain. “It looks like a statue, but isn’t a statue. Can you get out?”

“Only if I get out of my shoe.”

“You’re not wearing a shoe.” The Doctor reminds her.

“Good point.” She continues to struggle.

“Doctor, help Clara, I’ll keep an eye on the Angel.”

~

Donna was dying for a coffee and would not leave the TARDIS before she got it. Which was okay, meant you and the Doctor had some time together just walking the streets of London. It didn’t happen often, usually you were running around, saving lives and planets. It felt almost strange to be standing in a Starbucks waiting for your coffees.

You had gotten pretty good and noticing when another line was popping up, the Doctor’s eyes if not face would light up with excitement when he hears to thinks of a new tacky pick-up line. But you were certain that something as simple as coffee wouldn’t cause him to think of a new one.

Oh how wrong you were.

“Do you work at Starbucks?” He starts as you sigh, waiting for the end of this. “Because I like you a latte.”

“Where do you even find half of these? Do you have a book hidden somewhere or what?” You grab the coffees and walk out. “If you do, I’m going to burn it.”

“No you don’t!” He looks at you offended. “I thought you loved my pick-up lines.”

“Yeah, sure.” You roll your eyes.

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Where are we off to next?”

~

You were being marched down the corridor towards God knows where, looking around for the TARDIS, the Doctor, some kind of sign or signal that he was on his way to save you. “What are you looking for?” One of the guards demanded.

You pause. “You could say that I’m looking for my Mr. Right?” You offer right before a large chunk of the wall exploded, causing the six of you to fly against the opposite wall.

“Hi, I’m Mr. Right. I heard you were looking for me.” The northern accented Doctor makes his entrance as you make your way onto your feet.

“How long have you been sitting on that one?” You ask as he sonics your cuffs, releasing you from your chains.

“A while.” He admits. “Come on!” He pulls you away as you start to run towards the TARDIS and to safety.

~

You know you had done the right thing, Missy was both the Doctor’s and your friend, no matter what her previous regeneration’s actions had been. But going from adventure to adventure to being stuck in the University thanks to Nardole’s insistence that the TARDIS be more or less turned off.

The three of you were getting on each other’s nerves, thirty-five years of doing pretty much nothing. The Doctor was fine, he could teach. You on the other hand, as a married woman in the 1910, weren’t allowed to teach. Being in Wales didn’t help either.

Things were already getting tense, the Doctor couldn’t stand being in one place for too long and was becoming insufferable. The latest argument exploded over something minor said when you were found, yet again, trying to enter the TARDIS for something to do. The Doctor sided with Nardole, and after years of putting up with his attitude due to his boredom, you snapped.

In hindsight, there were better ways to deal with it, and you probably should have taken that path, but after been turned down from job after job due to your marriage, being told by both of the men that you couldn’t go see Missy because it was too dangerous even though they went in to see her almost daily and the Doctor not making an apparent effort to try and understand your frustrations at all, you couldn’t handle it. So, after a screaming match that would have woken up all of Cardiff if it wasn’t for the TARDIS’ covenant sound-proofing, you stormed out.

You had been walking around the town aimlessly, purchasing the few necessities you had run out of as you went to try and keep yourself busy as you worked off some steam. You had been walking for hours, the sun had gone down and you left at noon, before you finally made your way back to your shared apartment, where Nardole was pacing the living room and seemed to be a bit stressed.

“The Doctor and I have been looking for you.” He scolded lightly as sat down on the worn out couch. “After you didn’t come back after his next class, we both started to become worried. It’s not safe for you to be out on your own.”

“It’s Cardiff.” You rolled your eyes. “I was fine.”

“What about James Marks, eh? Could have run into another fellow like him.”

“The guy that exposed himself to a female with apparent intent to harm? Please, I’ve faced DALEKS, I can face a human criminal.” You looked over to him. “I get that you and the Doctor care, but you can’t assume I’m going to run off. I was trying to find something to do, the Doctor is an University professor and you are his valet. I have nothing. Can’t do anything, can’t help in anyway. Do you know how frustrating that is?” He thought for a second.

“Maybe we could open up a small business to keep you busy?” He offered. “That’d be nice, just something small to keep you occupied and make a little bit of extra money on the side.” You paused, trying to think of what you could do.

“I think that could work. Thank you Nardole.” You smiled over to him before you suddenly saw a small envelope on the table in front of you. “Who’s this?”

“Yours I think, the Doctor left it for you when he went out looking for you. I stayed here in case you came back.” Nardole sat next to you as you opened it to pull out the thick paper. Circular handwriting looks back at you as you read the Gallifrean.

‘I love you. And I was wrong. Your beauty makes the morning look like the dull glimmer of the moon.’

You smiled, cheeks reddening slightly as Nardole looked over your shoulder. “What’s it say, then?”

You paused, trying to think of what to say before you realised what it actually was. “An apology. It’s an apology.”

~

Your bow-tie wearing Doctor was out of the TARDIS, which was good. He had been stuck up there since the Ponds were taken by the Angels, which devastated you but the Doctor….the Doctor took it harder than you did.

The snow was something different, as it fell you had an eerie feeling that something was wrong. You were sure the Doctor did too, but he didn’t want to frighten or make you think that he was trying to find some alien mystery when there wasn’t one.

The Doctor wasn’t the same when the Ponds were taken, you made sure to go down and see Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax at least once a week, at the very least to get an update of London and you’d give them and update of the Doctor. You then had something to tell him, to distract him, even if it didn’t work until Vastra called saying someone said that the one word used to describe their problem was pond. That got him on the case quick smart.

So, here you were. Strax was struggling with the memory worm, the Doctor was telling him off, the governess that had the issue and you were giggling at their antics. The Doctor looked over at you to shut up as Strax, yet again forgets the gauntlets, which caused you to raise an eyebrow and continue giggling. He rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and turned to Clara.

“Don't come looking for us. Forget about us. You understand?” He warned her before pushing her into the carriage, retaking your hand once he stepped back.

“What about the snow? Shouldn't we be warning people?” Clara insisted, looking over to the two of you.

“Not my problem. Merry Christmas. Take her back where we found her.” He instructed Strax after brushing her off and started to lead you away, the both of you hearing Strax’s ‘sir, ma’am’ behind you before he takes off. You moved to link arms with the Doctor to stop him from dragging you off.

“Doctor, we both know that if it’s a human problem, then it’s your problem.” You gently stated, trying to hide a smirk as you realise that Clara was, indeed, following the both of you. “Humanity could be in danger, and normally you make it your responsibility to, ya know, save them.” He frowns.

“No, not this time.”

“I know you are upset, luv, but we need to keep doing what we do.” The glare alone was enough to stop the words in your mouth. “Okay, just know whatever you decide to do I’m supporting you all the way.” The two of you walked in silence for a bit as you watched the snow. “Snowmen, low telepathic field. Very alien.”

“Y/N.” He warned.

“Yes dear.” You placed your best poker face as the next sentence formed in your head. “I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.” The Doctor’s face tightened as he tried to hide his smile.

“Really?”

“I miss the pick-up lines.” You confessed. “But I love you.” You stated firmly as he pulls down the ladder and offered you his hand to lead you into going first. He kisses your temple as you grasp the rails of the ladder.

“I love you too.”

~

Visiting Van Gogh was partially difficult. You had a bit of a past with depression, and seeing the great artist himself caused a whole lot of feelings you didn’t want to address to reappear. After rereturning to the gallery post seeing his reaction to his paintings in the 21st Century, you caught Amy crying in the TARDIS.

“Amy? Are you okay?” She wiped away her tears in an attempt to hide her reaction to your current adventure. “Oh, come here sweetheart.” You pulled her close in an attempt to console her, the both of you sat on the stairs in the control room. “What’s wrong, love?”

“After everything we did, what we showed him, why did he still do that?” You hummed, understanding her confusion.

“Depression….it’s like herpes.” She looked at you really weirdly. “Hear me out. You have your oral herpes, your cold sores, that go away with time. That’s some depression. Then you have herpes herpes, the bad kind that never goes away. You say ‘tomorrow, I’m going to do all these changes, I’m going to keep up to date with my meds and make my life a better place and I won’t have herpes because of these changes’. The next day, the herpes are gone. But the virus is still there. The symptoms, they come back and sometimes they come back with vengeance.” You paused to pass her a tissue as she dabs her eyes. “The same thing is with depression. In the case of Vincent, it’s a disease that never truly goes away, he might have felt better for a month or two but the disease came back. And it got worse. But he kept his paintings because he knew they would help people in the future, and he knew you’d go see them one day. And do you know what.” You pulled yourself away and smiled down at her. “I bet you that he thought of you and how ginger your kids would be until the day he died.” She laughed a little.

“Did we make him happy?”

“Yes, I think we did.” She nodded, pleased with that answer.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” She said after a few minutes of quiet thinking. “Good night.”

“Good night Amy, we will see you in the morning.” You let her to go her room without any fuss, knowing that she would be fine and in the later stages of grieving in the next few days. Getting up, you walked over to the control panel and started to plot where you would ideally like to visit next, even though the Doctor and TARDIS probably had other ideas.

“Are you okay?” You looked over to see a very nervous-looking Doctor. “I noticed that…..at the gallery….you seemed to be struggling.” You smiled over at him as he came up to hold you tightly.

“I’m fine. Just had a few moments where I needed to readjust myself.” You push away at the hair covering his eyes. “Thank you for worrying.”

“Always.” He kisses you lightly. “You know, if a thousand painters worked for a thousand years, they could not create a work of art as beautiful as you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling softly.

“Do you know what? I’m just going to take that.”

~

Bill was having the time of her life out on the ice, viewing all the different things that 19th Century Britain had to offer. Meanwhile, you had lost the Doctor. You kept careful guard of your sonic screwdriver, the only valuable you had, as you wander the streets looking for him. People bombarded you with advertising, entertainment and pleading for spare change and assistance, to all you said no to. You knew the game, you weren’t losing anything.

It wasn’t until a Scottish voice behind you scared you out of your guarded state. “Hello, are you married?” You turned to see a grinning Doctor.

You hesitated. “Yes….?”

“I didn’t hear you say happily.” You let out an annoyed sigh as you slap his chest lightly.

“I’m married to you, you twat!” You exasperated.

“I know. Lucky you.” You shake your head before linking arms with him and walking off in an attempt to refind Bill.

~

The Child was beginning to freak you out. Super strong, able to communicate through phones and God knows what else, all of them was setting you off when you realised that you were in the Child’s room. Jumping through the hole in the wall provided by with Jack, you are tossed the banana the Doctor placed in place of his gun. “Don’t drop the banana!”

“I won’t!” You called back out as Jack and Rose asked why.

“Good source of potassium!” Doctor called back. “Hey, Y/N!”

“This better be important!” You moved up next to him. “What is it?”

“Are you a banana? Because I find you a-peeling!” He laughed at his joke as you punch his arm.

“Really not the time Doctor.”

~

Bill was home safe and you had just found out the Doctor had not, in fact, regained his sight after fighting the Space Zombies from Hell. You weren’t happy about the lying but you were helping him adjust to his new blind status, even though you weren’t impressed that he decided not to tell Bill.

It had been a fortnight after the incident, and you had come up with a system that allowed you to communicate where he needed to move to avoid danger or to look in the right direction without anyone knowing you were doing so, and taught him how to read braille, along with coming up with a system in the TARDIS so the Doctor could find whatever he needed whenever he needed it. He knew you were still not impressed, but you were both coping with the new changes.

“Hey Y/N!” You popped your head out of the kitchen and into the hallway at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, wiping your wet hands on a tea towel..

“Yeah?!”

“I need you in the library!” The rich, accented voice rung out.

“Hang on then!” You ditched the towel and half-jogged, half-walked to the library. “What is it?” You saw him hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Can you come here please? I need you to read my palm, I’ve written something on there but I don’t know if its legible.” You sighed as you walked over and placed your head on his shoulder, looking over to see both of his palms empty.

“Doctor, there’s nothing there….”

“Ah yes, I didn’t expect you to see anything because love is blind.” You took a step back. “Y/N?”

“Okay, no, seriously, run because I am going to kill you.” He laughed at your reaction. “That was so bad it’s not even funny.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that buddy.” He stood up and you walked over to face him. “In front. Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m always fine. I’m the Doctor.” He tried to reassure.

“I know. That’s why I worry.” He smiled down at you as you stood on your tiptoes and gave the tip of his nose a kiss. “We’ll be okay yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug.

“We will always be okay, I promise you that.”

~

After Vampire Fish in Venice, you needed a break. All you wanted was to watch a little bit of Netflix and relax with some junk food and maybe a nap between shows.

Rory was cool with that, he needed just a little bit to not so much process or accept, but just think over what had happened during the last 48 hours. Amy and the Doctor, on the other hand, wanted to keep going.

“An hour. Just an hour of watching Netflix, then we can go.” You pleaded. “Or you two go by yourself and do something, Rory and I don’t mind, do we Rory?”

“No, no, you lot go ahead. We are fine here.” He agreed as Amy pouted a little.

“It’s no fun if its just the two of us.” They all ignored the Doctor’s ‘hey!” in protest as they tried to figure it out. “If we watch one movie, can we go after that?”

“Sure!” Rory and you both state together.

“I have to choose.”

“Don’t care, Amy’s choice. Up to you.” You nodded as you directed the couple to the entertainment room. “Come along Doctor.” You called over your shoulder.

Forty minutes into some movie from the 22nd Century that Amy said looked interesting, the human couple were sound asleep, Amy draped over her fiancé as the Doctor sat behind you, playing with your hair as you watch the movie, staring at you as you do so.

“Alright there, dear?” You question.

“Are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours.”

“Hun, I love you, and I appreciate the attempt, but that’s very creepy.” You pat his arm lightly.

“I tried.”

“And I appreciate that.” You pull him in for a kiss. “Now shush, I wanna see the end of this movie.”

~

It had been five months since the Monks had taken over Earth, and the Doctor had nearly finished rehabilitating the men that were keeping you ‘captive’. With your small army nearly ready, you had to prepare a way to figure out if Bill was still Bill, or had given into the Monks reprograming.

“I think out of all the aliens we have encountered, the Monks are the worst.” You complain as the camera is taken away from the room after another recording was demanded from the two of you.

“Was your father an alien? Because there’s nothing else like you on Earth!” You looked over to the soldier who said that with a slightly raised eyebrow as the Doctor’s attack eyebrows furrowed together to form a lethal stare of death.

“Don’t you start too. I’ve never gotten it out of him.” You indicated to the Doctor.

“You’re married? He’s old enough to be your grandfather!” That angered the Doctor even more, and you knew you had to defuse the situation.

“It’s all about the experience, love.” You sent over a cheeky wink as you noticed the slight victory smirk accompanying the slight red tinge on the Doctor’s cheeks. The soldier laughs it off and moves on to complete his other duties. “You alright, love?”

“Am I too old for you?” He asked as he pulled you close. He was normally against the hugging, but never with you.

“Never! I love you always, regardless of your age, you know that.” You played with the few loose curls at the back of his head. “Can’t believe it wasn’t you who said that.”

“I was going to, someday. I had it saved away for another time.” You grinned.

“Ah well, I’m sure you have more.” You pulled away. He grinned, the red beginning to fade.

“You are out of this world you know.”

“I know. Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[givemethatgold]

Rescued pt. 10

Summary:  After Bucky comes to your aid in a moment of panic you extend an invitation to family dinner. Neither of you could have foreseen how this small act of kindness would alter you, and your life, forever.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Swearing, Alcoholism,  Word Count: 2565

Author’s Note: Guys. This took for fucking ever to write. I’m not sure what happened to me but I hope I’m back and that I’ll be pumping the chapters out faster now. Also, I sincerely apologize if I missed any errors, my keyboard has been adding phantom letters and spaces while I’m typing and I only proof-read this once.

Previously

Your mom and dad had tried to console you, Karen had flat out told you that you were being dumb if you thought that any of this was your fault, and Jordan mumbled something about needing to do background checks. The one person who you could always count of to bring light to a situation and make you laugh was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Before you could ask Mikey how he was doing, your name was being called. Looking toward the door you spotted Bucky, leaning heavily on the doorjamb but looking a lot more alive than the last time you saw him.

“Bucky,” you breathed, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him on his feet, “How are you fee- MIKEY, NO!”

It had been five days since the fight between Michael and Bucky. Five days since Bucky has been avoiding you, feeling like he was the cause of everything that had gone wrong in your life lately. His guilt, along with his healing injuries, saw him hiding in the medical ward and refusing any visitors.

Five days since your closest brother stopped listening, talking, or even looking at you. He felt like Bucky was the cause of everything that had gone wrong too, and since you refused to play the blame game, Michael refused to be near you. Ironically, he was also healing in the medical ward but the only visitor he was refusing was you.

Their fight, if you could call it that, hadn’t lasted long; and while the injuries were mostly superficial the damage went deep. Bucky had refused to do anything more than defend himself against a few harsher punches, resulting in a black eye and a few torn stitches. Michael, on the other hand, had destroyed the bones in three fingers when one of his punches was deflected by a metal hand. Bucky carried more guilt now than he had before, and heaped your torn family dynamic onto the ever growing weight on his shoulders.

Four days since the team had dispersed, each with their own missions, research, and training to do. They weren’t sure what to do with the sudden influx of civilians in the compound and none of them were great with understanding family tension; seeing as how most of them were orphans.

Three days since you had started putting all of your pent up energy into baking. You may not have had anyone around to share the meals with, but you were single-handedly feeding everyone within a five-floor radius. Muffins, cookies, bread, pastries, pies, roasts, pasta; you name it: you make it. It didn’t even cross your mind to question where the ingredients were coming from or who was footing the bill; the process was just too cathartic.

Two days since Tony’s last drink. He had stubbornly refused to admit he had a drinking problem but the night you had found him in the elevator was enough to change his mind. He had been so inebriated that he couldn't even crawl, let alone stand. He had initially yelled at you, slurring profanities in an attempt to get you to leave him alone. In your short time as an emergency nurse, you had seen enough people at his level of intoxication to know that he could not be left alone.

Once you had entered the elevator and the doors automatically closed behind you, the reason for his anger became apparent. He was using it to cover his embarrassment: he had pissed himself. Having spent the last four years in a long-term care facility, you were more than used to changing and cleaning patients, so his current state didn’t phase you.

“Come on big guy, let’s get you to your room,” you said, hoisting him up with an arm around his waist and draping one of his around your shoulders. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please alert us to anyone’s presence on Mr. Stark’s floor.”

“If I detect anyone about to cross your path, I’ll send them on a little goose chase first, Miss Y/L/N.”

You smiled up at the ceiling in gratitude, knowing that somehow the A.I. cared for Tony and was as concerned as you were about other teammates seeing him like this.

You managed to carry/drag Tony to his room without further incident then stripped him and put him into his massive shower.  After making sure he wouldn’t slump over and water-board himself, you went out into his room and rummaged through his clothes until you found comfortable looking clothes for sleep.

You ran back to the bathroom when you heard muffled yelling and the sight of the broken man in front of you had you crawling into the shower with him.

He was bawling. Body completely limp, not trying to hide his tears at all, cries of anguish tearing up his throat, bawling.

“Pepperrrrrr,” he slurred. “‘M sthorry.”

He thought you were someone else, and you weren’t about to correct him right now. Gently coaxing, you managed to get him up, dry, and into his bed. Just before you left you heard him mumble again, something about Pepper being the only thing he loved that loved him back.

Your heart broke for the man, his dependence on alcohol making a little more sense to you. You made a mental note to find out more about this Pepper, and what had happened between them.

As you stood at one of the kitchen islands, whisking eggs whites for waffles, you were pulled from your thoughts by a voice you weren’t expecting.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor.”

Turning around, you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

“Tony! You look terrible!” Cringing at your lack of filter, you sent an apologetic smile.

Nice one, Y/N.

“Apparently detox will do that do a person,” he chuckled “but my head is clearing so I’ll take it.” 

Tony looked like he had more to say, you so casually rested your hip against the counter and waited for him to continue.

“You know,” he said, nervously scratching his beard. 

Beard?! He’s really let himself go...

“I, ahhh, I guess you deserve an apology.”

It was more than you ever expected to get but it wasn’t everything that you deserved so you stayed quiet, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Ha, you’re not going to make this easy on my ego, are you?” Tony looked at you shrewdly then nodded, conceding. “No, you wouldn’t but that’s what I need apparently. So, Y/N, I grovel at your feet for forgiveness. I was willing to put your family at risk for the sake of my pride, I let my past with Bucky cloud my reasoning, and I harshly judged your relationship. Also, my eternal gratitude. Not only for saving me from team-wide scorn and pity, but for being firm in the face of some terrifying superheroes and not letting me get away with my shit.”

Another week had gone by, and while your family and Bucky continued to estrange themselves from you, you found friendship in Tony. While you nursed him into sobriety, he distracted you from your loneliness by telling you the history of all the Avengers. 

You were in the kitchen attempting croissants and Tony was keeping you company, regaling you with stories about Captain America, the Howling Commandos, and his father. There was an underlying current of disdain and hurt in Tony’s voice anytime he talked about Howard. Fearing a relapse, you changed the subject. Being a complete idiot, you brought up the worst person you could.

“Why don’t you ever talk about Pepper?”

At his silence, you turned your head questioningly. The stricken look on his face had you immediately regretting having opened your big mouth.

Goddammit, why are you always doing this to him!?

“Oh, Tony...” you said softly, fully turning around to face him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“The two greatest loves of my life are Pepper Potts and my suit.” He interrupted, looking down at the design in the marble floor. “Not just the suit, but the possibilities with it. They’ve both saved me, given me hope, and showed me my full potential. I’m a better man because of them.” Tony’s words were clipped and heavy but he had made eye contact with you. His intense, brown eyes were boring into you, begging you to understand. 

“I couldn’t choose between the two, I had hoped I wouldn’t have to. Pepper,” he said, with a heavy sigh, “she did it for me, and left.”

Tony had never opened up about himself, and the whole time he had been speaking you held your breath, afraid to do anything that might stop the flow of words. Once you were sure he was finished, you wrapped him up into a hug and just rocked him like you would a child.

Tony pulled out of the hug and cleared his throat, emotional. 

“Have fun baking, we’ve all been enjoying it, but I’ve got something very important I need to go do!”

You may have been worried, watching Tony hurry off after such an emotional moment, but the new spring in his step assured you that he wasn’t escaping to go drown his sorrows. Turning back to your work, you smiled to yourself, as a plan of your own began to take form.

The next big mission was five days away and Tony had, surprisingly, opted to stay home although he had finally been cleared for combat. He claimed he was working on something big and had retreated back into the tower. You were actually ecstatic at the news, figuring this was a perfect opportunity to reveal the surprise you had been working on. 

Your project had kept you distracted and busy for the past week, but now that everything was set in place, you were inundated with loneliness and despair. You had always been close to your family, everyone would converge whenever someone had a celebration or a heartbreak. Now, you were all having the hardest couple weeks of your lives and everyone was ignoring each other. 

You were sick of being alone and ignored, it was time to take charge and do something about your situation. Not knowing where everyone was, you headed to the one place you were guaranteed to find someone you cared about. Once you reached the gym, you quietly asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to lock all the exits to the room, until you specifically asked her to.

“Of course. Good luck, Y/N.”

Not for the first time you marveled at the amount of personality and understanding the A.I. seemed to have. Taking a deep breath, you quietly slipped into the gym and heard the door lock engage behind you. Scanning the area, you spotted Bucky near the boxing ring. He had been outfitted with a new arm, compliments of Tony, and was testing out the dexterity and fluidity of movement on the speed bag.

You knew when he heard you walk towards him because the rhythm of his punches stuttered and the bag began to spin wildly. Sighing in defeat, Bucky stepped back and began to quickly unwrap his hands, refusing to look at you. 

“Buck,” you called softly, “talk to me, please.”

At the sound of your voice, his back went rigid and his head snapped up. Despite the anguish you felt, you were still able to appreciate the play of muscle across his shirtless torso: watching the muscles dance as he finished with the wraps and tossed them across the room.

It’s been weeks since he’s even talked to me and I’m still ogling this idiot...must be love. Either that or he’s just insanely hot. 

You were snapped out of your lusty daze when he made a beeline for a side door.

Oh no you don’t...

“Doors are locked, Barnes,” you call out, steel in your voice. “They’re going to stay locked until we talk and figure our shit out.” 

Before he could try running again, or claim that nothing was wrong, you dove in. 

“Ever since I met you, my life has become this crazy, happy, scary, whirlwind. It has affected me, you - who has been fucking reclusive; and my family - who aren’t currently speaking to me either! My house is gone, my brother is in the hospital, my life has been threatened, and I’ve had no one for company except a recovering alcoholic with enough troubles of his own!

“I know that all of this trouble has to do with you and the organization who held you captive. Hell, it’s been suggested that our initial introductions may have been orchestrated by Hydra, for fuck sakes! They tried to put you under mind control in order to have you kill me! Yet, through it all, you acted like a gentleman, a hero, my rescuer. And, you know what? I started to fall in love with that guy. Crazy right?! I barely knew him! But he seemed so perfect, always knew what to say, what to do, took charge in a crisis.

“Then we get here, and you ignore me?! You refuse to see me! I’ve been needing you, and you’ve completely shut me out and not even told me why! I know I’m not crazy when I say there is something between us, I know you feel it too. So why are you pushing me away?! Let me help, let me share my hurt and confusion, let me take comfort in having you close!”

You had been yelling your stream of consciousness out, not even sure if anything you had just said made sense to him; you just needed to lay it all out. Now that it was, you were exhausted.

“I just, Bucky I just miss you. I can’t explain it, this pull I feel towards you but I refuse to ignore it. Please, I need you,” the last word coming out in barely a whisper. “Now, please, tell me what is going on inside that gorgeous head of yours? You might as well, you’re locked in here with me until I’m satisfied.”

Bucky had spun around and stared at you with wide eyes while you were speaking, but it wasn’t until a smirk spread across his face that you realized the double meaning of your last sentence.

He started stalking towards you with a gleam in his eye you hadn’t seen before. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine and heat shooting down to your core. Not completely sure of his intentions, and refusing to get distracted from getting answers, you began to take a step back for every one that Bucky took forward. 

“Talk to me, Buck,” you crooned, not completely successful in keeping the desire out of your voice.

“I’m scared, doll,” he finally began and breaking your heart with those three words. “For the first time in seventy years I have something to lose, and I’m scared. I’ve put you through more than a lifetime’s worth of trauma, dragged your amazing family into my shit, and now the people who turned me into a monster know about you. About us. They know, Y/N. Do you understand how dangerous they are? I just found you, and I feel like no matter what I do I’m going to lose you.” Bucky hadn’t broken eye contact with you, and you could see the glistening of unshed tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to do to fix this, so I hid like a coward. I just, doll, I don’t know what to do.”

You launch yourself at Bucky and he catches you mid-jump. Wrapping your legs around his waist you hug his head to your chest and just hold each other. 

“I don’t know what to do either, baby, but let’s figure it out together from now on, okay?” You murmur into his hair.

Nodding, Bucky loosens his grip around your waist and thigh and you slowly slide down his body until you’re facing each other. 

“Hey stranger,” you whisper, gazing into his cerulean eyes.

You’ll never be sure who kissed who, but it really didn’t matter. You both poured your hearts into it, saying more with that kiss than you ever could with words. 

Part 11 

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[hellyes-tommccamus]

Mutant X [TV] (2001-2004)

S01E11 “Whiter Shade of Pale”

[spoilers]

Sci-fi/action

Tom McCamus plays a main role in season 1

Another episode named after a song an English rock band, this time Procol Harum. The song is a good choice for the title, thematically it matches the episode as it is about love and loss, and also the lyrics “her face at first just ghostly turned a whiter shade of pale” could describe Danielle, on a couple of levels.

Brennan and Jesse visit the safe house and Neil (Xuan Fraser), whose New Mutant power is not needing much sleep. Not a flashy power, but I’m sure most people would find it useful. He has brought a cyto filter from a Dr Hollis. From what I can gather this is a consumable used in centrifuges, not something awfully technical but I guess Adam can’t use the Sanctuary as a shipping address (at least not since three mailmen got lost in the mountains). Adam has sent a new prototype genetic sequencer to go back to Dr Hollis. As new genetic sequencers are still being developed today I’m agreeing that this is a realistic thing for Adam to have made. But then Brennan says it is designed to restore the DNA of New Mutants and well, that’s not what sequencers do. They “read” the DNA code, which is made of nucleotides A G T and C so that it can be studied. If they had only given it some kinda phoney sci-fi name. But an invisible “ghost” takes the sequencer and hurls things at them to escape.

Adam tells Emma that he knew someone was going to steal it so he installed a tracking device in it. Maybe, I dunno, have some security? Oh no sorry that would ruin the plot. Emma can’t understand why Adam is so blasé about the theft. He thinks it was stolen by a mutant with out of control mutating DNA (this again?) Adam knows it was a Stealth New Mutant, which I imagine would fit into the molecular category. Adam says they are able to emit an aura that reflects light, which is the basic principal behind real life stealth tech. Hey, even my friendly neighbourhood military contractor has their own stealth system based on reflecting light. Emma is pretty baffled by Adam’s reactions (might have been a good time to use her telempathy, or did they cut the scene where she had to promise not to use it on her team?). He sends her and Shalimar to investigate at the safe house, even though Jesse and Brennan are already there.

Aldus Burke (Christopher Bolton), who Mason introduces as an informant, has news about a piece of Mutant X tech that has gone missing. Mason isn’t interested until he hears it was stolen by a stealth New Mutant. In this short scene he gets Aldus’ name wrong twice, presumably on purpose.

At the safe house, the girls pretty much state the obvious about Adam probably knowing who stole the sequencer. He usually does know from powers alone, so it’s not exactly unusual. Then Shalimar does something that is not only bad science but also bad health and safety. The thief hit the van window on their way out and Shalimar finds some blood on a piece of glass. Bad science: don’t touch blood, you’re contaminating evidence. Bad health and safety: don’t touch blood with bare hands (always assume it is infectious) also don’t touch broken glass with bare hands. Didn’t anybody on the show think to mention this? (Perhaps I am too fussy and would be banned from film sets).

Adam runs a test on the blood. I’m not sure why there’s an animation of blood every time Adam analyses some. Looking at blood cells under a microscope wouldn’t really help. And despite being a genius geneticist all he can tell is that it is from a female New Mutant. Shalimar questions this, and he says he can barely identify the DNA as human as it is so deteriorated. And to that I’m going to say balderdash.

Jesse and Brennan get a location on the sequencer and Adam goes to investigate alone. Conveniently it’s fall and the person whose house Adam has gone to has decided to give up raking leaves and just have them coating their driveway evenly so their footprints are completely visible even in stealth mode. We’ve previously seen Adam dismissive and cynical on the topic of love, so he disappoints me by being instantly all over Danielle (Guylaine St-Onge). They clearly have some history together but then Aldus shows up, accompanied by one GS Agent, maybe because for some reason Mason won’t accept him into the GSA. Aldus reveals himself as a feral and brutally attacks Adam to get the sequencer. Danielle goes stealth and tells Adam to meet her later. Back at Sanctuary Adam dismisses his team’s concerns and goes off to sulk. There’s the problem with an open plan home, there’s no real private places to be alone.

Adam looks at the DNA samples again. Emma comments that the chromosomes look splintered. Damage to DNA is actually unlikely to be visible to that extent. Chromosomes don’t break like split ends of hair. Pieces may break off entirely due to damage by for instance radiation, but cells are smart and like to repair themselves where possible, so the ends get stuck back together. Not always the right way round, but at least they try.

Emma probes about the Stealth New Mutant, and Adam at first accuses her of reading him but then tells her he met Danielle sixteen years ago when he was working at Genomex and she was struggling with her powers and they fell in love. Now I don’t believe Adam could possibly have started work at a Genomex more than 30 years previously (unless he is a lot older than he looks). So either the New Mutant project began before Adam was involved or “treatment” was given to much older children because we really hope Danielle was much older than 14 when they fell in love. He says he thinks she disappeared because she knew she would have a short lifespan. If Adam knew this, why didn’t he try to come up with a genetic cure for what was wrong with Danielle? In a previous episode it has been mentioned that in the early days of Genomex they were working to cure genetic diseases. So why not that one?

Mason isn’t happy that Aldus brought him the sequencer but not the stealth New Mutant. He seems to recognise her name when Aldus says it. He is not happy that Aldus didn’t take infrared goggles to track Danielle. Infrared cloaking is something military stealth devices aim to do, so the goggles would be useless against stealth jets, but it seems Danielle’s power only fools unaided human eyes. The erratic way that Mason treats his subordinates is really obvious here. He’s extremely hostile towards Aldus from the get go, while with others he is quite lenient. Maybe it’s a deliberate power play, or perhaps he knows that he can get away with treating people he dislikes as he wishes.

Adam meets Danielle in a fancy wine bar, which appears to have been a favourite place of theirs. Danielle tells him that Mason told her that Adam only cared about Genomex and that she’d be a test subject if she stayed. Which is kind of interesting. She must have been at Genomex for a while. I wonder how the staff at Genomex reacted to New Mutants there, being studied. Adam says earlier that she was struggling with her powers. Was he running some kind of secret clinic to help New Mutants use their powers? Or was this open and authorised? Mason at least knew what was going on. Danielle says she trusted him, and Adam says that he did too. So were they forced to see each other secretly at the closest bar to the facility? I can imagine that Mason was not jealous of their relationship (due to his general disdain for New Mutants) but more of the fact that Danielle probably disrupted the whole workaholic solidarity that he and Adam probably had back then.

Danielle says she decided to leave and live her life rather than hope for a cure. Which is something people with terminal illnesses often decide to do. And who could fault them for that? The actress who played her sadly died of cancer, in a truly tragic example of life imitating art in a way that we really wish it wouldn’t.

For some reason Shalimar and Emma decide to break into Danielle’s house. And talk loudly while inside. They find a note that Danielle has left for her daughter. The last we saw her she was running away, then met Adam at the bar. How did she leave the note if she only knew Adam was there when she was already outside of her house then ran away straight after? Well I guess she may have doubled back in stealth mode. But how, if she’s struggling to control her powers?

Danielle’s daughter Catherine (Sarah Gadon) comes home so Shalimar and Emma must hide. By respectively almost doing the splits on the stairs and cowering by a wall. Real good hiding there. Catherine has the same power as her mother so easily finds them. But then the GSA show up and she is forced to trust the intruders.

Aldus and his henchmen put on red sunglasses, which are pretty cool, but we’re supposed to believe that they detect infra red? Infra red goggles look more like binoculars that are strapped onto the head. My friendly neighbourhood hardware store stocks a nice similar pair of glasses in green that protect from infra red radiation, but that’s the opposite of what they want.

Adam wants Danielle to come back to Sanctuary with him. But she’s not convinced. She places more trust something Mason must have told her maybe a decade ago about a drug called efanol (which in the real world is a name variously given to an antihistamine drug and a steroid). Danielle seems sure that she hasn’t much time to live but wants to help her daughter who she fears will suffer the same fate. Adam looks surprised and asks how old her daughter is. She is fifteen. So if Adam never knew she was pregnant, their relationship must have been extremely brief.

Danielle is fading in and out, and thankfully the other diners and the staff seem completely unaware of this. Adam takes her back to Sanctuary and gives her efanol, even though he said it was too risky. And he says strand again. And I cringe. I do however like how he uses spray paint to make her arm visible for the futuristic needle-less needle.

The girls bring Catherine back to Sanctuary. Despite being told not to go into the lab, there’s no stopping someone with stealth powers, so she goes to her mother and also meets Adam. And there’s no prizes for guessing what Adam’s thinking.

Aldus reports back to Mason about Danielle’s daughter, and Mason tells him to focus on finding her.

Emma’s clearly thinking the same thing as Adam as she asks Catherine about her father. She says all she knows is that he was smart and he and her mother really loved each other for a while. Which kinda sounds like someone we know.

Danielle thinks she’s back to normal after the first treatment and wants more. It’s not terribly surprising when Adam refuses that she disappears. What I do find surprising is how easily people escape Sanctuary. As nobody sees the way there, it’s odd how they don’t often find them hopelessly trying to start the Double Helix or driving round the mountains in a stolen car.

As it turns out she stole Adam’s car and calls Mason for help. For a moment Thorne makes a surprise return! Of course we’re not supposed to notice that they re-used some of internal establishing shots of Genomex from the first couple of episodes. But then they didn’t see me coming.

Catherine and Adam have a “father-daughter” bonding chat. Adam suggests that he doesn’t think he’s her father. There’s a bit of a plot hole/inconsistency with dialogue about past events here. Adam said earlier that he first met Danielle when she was struggling with her powers. But here he says that when he met her he saved her life and as a consequence she ended up with stealth abilities. Then she was struggling with her new powers and they fell in love? That’s a lot to happen in a period of maybe 3 months. Then Danielle ran off because Adam had saved her life but not a long life. And instead of using her short life wisely immediately got pregnant and passed on her faulty genes to the child.

Adam has a bogus science idea to save the lives of both Danielle and her daughter. He wants to recombine Catherine’s DNA with her mother’s and somehow that will save them both. For a start, how? Terrible misuse of the word recombine here. I mean they get an A+ for effort, the writers obviously looked up lots of science words. But then they have completely invented their own definitions of them. Somehow mixing the DNA of a sick person with the DNA of their maybe sick in the same way offspring to make them both well? Oh dear. And of course we’re using the genetic sequencer which as we’ve already covered, does not do things like that. I have an alternate ending that is more scientific. The efanol works and Danielle has some side effects but they are mild ones she can live with (especially as she will die without any treatment). Adam discusses with Danielle that if Catherine starts to show similar symptoms, the drug will be an option for her and the side effects could vary from none to severe, but they will not know until she tries it as everyone reacts differently to drugs.

Emma tracks down Aldus in order to charm the sequencer away from him. And with her telempathy that doesn’t take long.

Danielle meets Mason at the same place she just met Adam. I like the part where she looks very unimpressed when he tells her he brought his own chef. She is one of the only people we see him touch voluntarily and he actually refers to their previous romance. Which must have also happened within that very busy 3 month period. I don’t really understand why he brought his men when she was practically begging for his help and would probably have happily gone with him. But then the guys of Mutant X show up to save her.

In the lab Adam goes ahead with his super scientific plan to save Danielle, which for some reason involves taking blood from Catherine. At least this time the blood taking process looks a lot less painful.

In an extremely baffling scene, Mason seems to enjoy eating a plate of noodles while talking about all the ways in which its contents will kill him. (Oddly tumblr decided to show me a picture of egg and noodles when I was logging in to post this). He forces Aldus to join him and after one forkful, he falls over, presumably dead. Now it’s not overly clear but I think Mason poisoned him. It’s clear Mason hated him for some unexplained reason and he did screw up repeatedly, but is this an excuse for murder in a public place? Or did he simply choke to death very quickly and quietly?

Danielle and Catherine are back to full health and Adam arranges for them to be moved to a new home. He directly asks if Catherine is his daughter and she says no. Adam perpetuates a great myth about genetic heritability in his comment about eye colour. Both he and Danielle have brown eyes so yes would most likely produce a child with brown eyes too. But genetic inheritance of eye colour is not that simple. Multiple genes control eye colour so it isn’t impossible for Catherine to have blue eyes and also be his daughter. We know that Danielle also had a romance with Mason, so it’s possible that she is his daughter. That could have been an interesting storyline. But as it’s an episodic show her father must remain a mystery as she is a non-returning guest star.

[robertkstone]

Swedes in Denver: We Drive the 2018 Volvo XC60, V70, and S90 T8 Hybrid

EVERGREEN, Colorado — The solar eclipse occurred as we ended the morning’s drive from Denver to Evergreen. Most people watched the celestial event through special glasses, but one woman on the shore of Evergreen Lake wore a welder’s mask. Better yet, a lucky few climbed into the cushy backseat of a 2018 Volvo XC60 to look through the laminated panoramic roof with a special filter.

Volvo was happily showing off its all-new XC60, which replaces the previous-generation model after nine years. Malin Ekholm, vice president of the Volvo Cars Safety Centre, had even come all the way from Sweden to share her passion for the XC60’s class-leading suite of standard and optional safety features. But Ekholm had neglected to mention eclipse-viewing protection. It could probably have been claimed as an industry first: “blind spot” protection par excellence.

We had arrived at this scene in an XC60 T6 AWD R-Design, ours since the midmorning coffee break. The R-Design is the obvious choice for enthusiasts. Equipped with paddle shifters, it allows the desired amount of driver interaction on sweeping, swooping mountain roads. We often kept the eight-speed automatic transmission in third gear for bursts on short straightaways as well as the engine-braking effect when approaching turns. Yes, the morning had begun with a technical presentation, and we heard how autonomous driving is a pursuit of Volvo’s. No, we weren’t interested just now.

Setting the driving mode in Dynamic gave us the right amount of steering assist. The suspension—double-wishbone front and an integral-link rear—and optional 21-inch R-Design Wheels with summer tires made this 4,045-pound crossover into a multi-sport athlete. With all-wheel drive, it excels at the steeplechase but won’t fall too far behind in a road race. In fact, at 184.6 inches, it’s just 1.3 inches longer than the Ferrari 812 Superfast, so be ready for some fun.

Under the hood, there’s the turbocharged and supercharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder engine we know from the larger XC90. This direct-injection DOHC 16-valve unit produces 316 hp at 5,700 rpm and 295 lb-ft of torque in a flat curve through the midrange. If we could only tell our uncle, who always dressed in a white T-shirt and bluejeans and believed so fervently in cubic inches, that the R-Design will sprint from 0 to 60 mph in 5.6 seconds, we know he would say, “Yer dreamin’!”

This second-generation crossover is good-looking, too. The R-Design features dramatic LED running lights, a black mesh grille, and bladelike lower fascia elements. The flanks have obviously benefited from Crossfit training, and the tail has nicely integrated pipes and a tidy “body control” lower insert.

Inside the XC60 R-Design, we found the upholstery and trim to be a trite rehash of performance-car norms. It was serious to a fault with black leather and Nubuck seats, black headliner, and aluminum inlays. It just didn’t seem like a Volvo; Swedes don’t think like this. Nevertheless, it’s all included in the $3,300 R-Design package (the big wheels are another $1,000).

The 2018 XC60 has a base price of $45,895, but our tester climbed the price ladder with a Convenience Package ($2,000) adding Pilot Assist semi-autonomous driving and power-folding second-row seats with electric-folding headrests; a Vision Package ($1,100) adding numerous driver assistance features; Advanced Package ($1,900) for whiz-bangery like 360-degree-view camera, head-up display, and LED headlights that peek around corners. Heated front seats and heated steering wheel, pleasing metallic blue paint, and a sound system that at $3,200 is more expensive than starting your own band brought the final tab to $59,740.

Starting out from Denver, after the early technical presentation, we had driven the even more expensive XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription. This Apollonian chariot—a leader of Volvo’s ballyhooed strategy that will find all models offered with electrification by next year—incorporates an 87 hp electric motor and 10.4 kWh battery in the most unobtrusive way. We never noticed any pausing or hesitation after pressing the accelerator, nor did we hear the annoying street-railway whine of Toyota’s Synergy Drive under braking. The combined output is 400 hp and 472 lb-ft, so the T8 shows plenty of eagerness despite weighing in at 4,599 lb. It sprints from 0 to 60 mph in just 4.9 seconds, yet the EPA combined rating, which is still being determined, is sure to exceed the T6’s 27 highway mpg.

The one major knock against this hybrid is the lack of any powertrain resistance on long downhill sections. The gearshift, which has a lovely Orrefors crystal element, lacks a sport shift feature for downshifting, and there are no paddle shifters, so we rode the brakes and cringed. It also sacrifices towing capacity (5,291 lb versus 4,409 lb) compared to the non-hybrids. Otherwise, with the optional air suspension, the driving was excellent.

In top-of-the-line Inscription trim ($71,590 as tested), the T8 E-AWD has a stately look with touches of elegance, and the interior is glorious, with a beautiful sculpted dashboard. Volvo could have told us the driftwood inlays had been gathered on skerries of the Stockholm archipelago by Ole Larsson and Lars Olsson during fishing bans. Or maybe the Swedes just tricked Finns into doing it. Whatever the sourcing, a unique storytelling opportunity is being wasted.

Malin Labecker, the engineer who leads the digital user-experience effort, had also come from Sweden, in her case to demonstrate the infotainment system. Yes, there were two Malins, and they explained the name was popular for baby girls in the 1970s because of a character in Astrid Lindgren’s 1964 TV series Vi på Saltkråkan, or We on Seacrow Island. While Malin Ekholm leads the safety effort, Malin Labecker and her team deserve credit for the crackerjack infotainment system and its 9.0-inch touchscreen. The home display presents four “tiles” for the major departments, and obscure functions are never more than a few swipes away. Meanwhile, it and the 12.3-inch driver instrument display look beautiful. Other automakers should be jealous of Volvo’s achievement.

Volvo also brought the latest 90-series cars, and after the eclipse (and lunch), we sampled the V90 T6 AWD Inscription. Loving station wagons as we do, it was only natural to open the tailgate first, admiring the 69.0 cubic feet of cargo volume and 78.3 inches of Goldendoodle stretch-out space with second row seats folded. A flip-up grocery bag holder is part of the $1,900 convenience package.

The V90 is 9.7 inches longer than the XC60, and its liftover height of 24.0 inches is 6.6 inches lower. With the same super- and turbocharged 2.0-liter engine making 316 hp, it was quite responsive (0 to 60 mph in 5.8 seconds). Yet, because of excellent aerodynamic efficiency, it will return 31 highway mpg. Cloaked in dark brown with a cream-colored interior, the V90 T6 AWD Inscription fired us up. It’s sensible like a Swede, sleek without straining, and scrumptious with its tailored dash and other appointments. This one stickered for $69,340. Placing the V90 on the shopping list would lead to a hard decision for those also considering a Mercedes-Benz E-Class Estate.

Please note: Volvo is not stocking the V90 in dealerships and is offering the car only as a special order. Searching for a more efficient method of retailing, senior vice president Lex Kerssemakers said he would rather not overload dealerships with inventory. “We just want to see how it works,” he said.

The return leg to Denver was completed in a 2018 S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription. The sedan enjoys a 4.5-inch increase in rear legroom, has a panoramic sunroof, and incorporates hybrid propulsion. The tradeoffs from having the electric drive components behind the rear seat are lack of space for a spare tire and a slightly smaller fuel tank. This is the car the successful executive, entrepreneur, or professional will purchase after receiving a phone reminder to “Reward Yourself.” The S90 is altogether satisfying to drive and expresses a degree of noncomformity.

Our day in the latest Volvos confirmed several things. Volvo is making great cars and crossovers that proceeded over Colorado’s roads with the “relaxed confidence” Kerssemakers and his crew like to speak of. The strategies emphasizing electrification, autonomy, and ultimate safety are right on, yet the knack for design is as strong as ever. And meeting the magnificent Malins from engineering, CEO Kerssemakers, and product guru Hans Nilsson—who has raced and improved the same Volvo 240 for more than two decades—gives us plenty of reason to believe in the company. How great it is to have Volvo back from its period of eclipse.

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $53,895/$71,590 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,599 lb 0-60 MPH 4.9 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 AWD R-Design Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $45,895/$59,740 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 /316 hp @ 5,700 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE 21/27 mpg (city/highway) L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,045 lb 0-60 MPH 5.6 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo V90 T6 AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $58,945/$69,340 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/316 hp @ 5,400 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 5-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD station wagon EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 194.3 x 79.5 x 58.1 in WHEELBASE 115.8 in WEIGHT 4,169 lb 0-60 MPH 5.8 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

2018 Volvo S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $64,745/$82,140 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD, sedan EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 200.1 x 74.6 x 57.1 in WHEELBASE 120.5 in WEIGHT N/A 0-60 MPH  4.7 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

<img width="150" height="113" src="http://st.autom

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[jesusvasser]

Swedes in Denver: We Drive the 2018 Volvo XC60, V70, and S90 T8 Hybrid

EVERGREEN, Colorado — The solar eclipse occurred as we ended the morning’s drive from Denver to Evergreen. Most people watched the celestial event through special glasses, but one woman on the shore of Evergreen Lake wore a welder’s mask. Better yet, a lucky few climbed into the cushy backseat of a 2018 Volvo XC60 to look through the laminated panoramic roof with a special filter.

Volvo was happily showing off its all-new XC60, which replaces the previous-generation model after nine years. Malin Ekholm, vice president of the Volvo Cars Safety Centre, had even come all the way from Sweden to share her passion for the XC60’s class-leading suite of standard and optional safety features. But Ekholm had neglected to mention eclipse-viewing protection. It could probably have been claimed as an industry first: “blind spot” protection par excellence.

We had arrived at this scene in an XC60 T6 AWD R-Design, ours since the midmorning coffee break. The R-Design is the obvious choice for enthusiasts. Equipped with paddle shifters, it allows the desired amount of driver interaction on sweeping, swooping mountain roads. We often kept the eight-speed automatic transmission in third gear for bursts on short straightaways as well as the engine-braking effect when approaching turns. Yes, the morning had begun with a technical presentation, and we heard how autonomous driving is a pursuit of Volvo’s. No, we weren’t interested just now.

Setting the driving mode in Dynamic gave us the right amount of steering assist. The suspension—double-wishbone front and an integral-link rear—and optional 21-inch R-Design Wheels with summer tires made this 4,045-pound crossover into a multi-sport athlete. With all-wheel drive, it excels at the steeplechase but won’t fall too far behind in a road race. In fact, at 184.6 inches, it’s just 1.3 inches longer than the Ferrari 812 Superfast, so be ready for some fun.

Under the hood, there’s the turbocharged and supercharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder engine we know from the larger XC90. This direct-injection DOHC 16-valve unit produces 316 hp at 5,700 rpm and 295 lb-ft of torque in a flat curve through the midrange. If we could only tell our uncle, who always dressed in a white T-shirt and bluejeans and believed so fervently in cubic inches, that the R-Design will sprint from 0 to 60 mph in 5.6 seconds, we know he would say, “Yer dreamin’!”

This second-generation crossover is good-looking, too. The R-Design features dramatic LED running lights, a black mesh grille, and bladelike lower fascia elements. The flanks have obviously benefited from Crossfit training, and the tail has nicely integrated pipes and a tidy “body control” lower insert.

Inside the XC60 R-Design, we found the upholstery and trim to be a trite rehash of performance-car norms. It was serious to a fault with black leather and Nubuck seats, black headliner, and aluminum inlays. It just didn’t seem like a Volvo; Swedes don’t think like this. Nevertheless, it’s all included in the $3,300 R-Design package (the big wheels are another $1,000).

The 2018 XC60 has a base price of $45,895, but our tester climbed the price ladder with a Convenience Package ($2,000) adding Pilot Assist semi-autonomous driving and power-folding second-row seats with electric-folding headrests; a Vision Package ($1,100) adding numerous driver assistance features; Advanced Package ($1,900) for whiz-bangery like 360-degree-view camera, head-up display, and LED headlights that peek around corners. Heated front seats and heated steering wheel, pleasing metallic blue paint, and a sound system that at $3,200 is more expensive than starting your own band brought the final tab to $59,740.

Starting out from Denver, after the early technical presentation, we had driven the even more expensive XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription. This Apollonian chariot—a leader of Volvo’s ballyhooed strategy that will find all models offered with electrification by next year—incorporates an 87 hp electric motor and 10.4 kWh battery in the most unobtrusive way. We never noticed any pausing or hesitation after pressing the accelerator, nor did we hear the annoying street-railway whine of Toyota’s Synergy Drive under braking. The combined output is 400 hp and 472 lb-ft, so the T8 shows plenty of eagerness despite weighing in at 4,599 lb. It sprints from 0 to 60 mph in just 4.9 seconds, yet the EPA combined rating, which is still being determined, is sure to exceed the T6’s 27 highway mpg.

The one major knock against this hybrid is the lack of any powertrain resistance on long downhill sections. The gearshift, which has a lovely Orrefors crystal element, lacks a sport shift feature for downshifting, and there are no paddle shifters, so we rode the brakes and cringed. It also sacrifices towing capacity (5,291 lb versus 4,409 lb) compared to the non-hybrids. Otherwise, with the optional air suspension, the driving was excellent.

In top-of-the-line Inscription trim ($71,590 as tested), the T8 E-AWD has a stately look with touches of elegance, and the interior is glorious, with a beautiful sculpted dashboard. Volvo could have told us the driftwood inlays had been gathered on skerries of the Stockholm archipelago by Ole Larsson and Lars Olsson during fishing bans. Or maybe the Swedes just tricked Finns into doing it. Whatever the sourcing, a unique storytelling opportunity is being wasted.

Malin Labecker, the engineer who leads the digital user-experience effort, had also come from Sweden, in her case to demonstrate the infotainment system. Yes, there were two Malins, and they explained the name was popular for baby girls in the 1970s because of a character in Astrid Lindgren’s 1964 TV series Vi på Saltkråkan, or We on Seacrow Island. While Malin Ekholm leads the safety effort, Malin Labecker and her team deserve credit for the crackerjack infotainment system and its 9.0-inch touchscreen. The home display presents four “tiles” for the major departments, and obscure functions are never more than a few swipes away. Meanwhile, it and the 12.3-inch driver instrument display look beautiful. Other automakers should be jealous of Volvo’s achievement.

Volvo also brought the latest 90-series cars, and after the eclipse (and lunch), we sampled the V90 T6 AWD Inscription. Loving station wagons as we do, it was only natural to open the tailgate first, admiring the 69.0 cubic feet of cargo volume and 78.3 inches of Goldendoodle stretch-out space with second row seats folded. A flip-up grocery bag holder is part of the $1,900 convenience package.

The V90 is 9.7 inches longer than the XC60, and its liftover height of 24.0 inches is 6.6 inches lower. With the same super- and turbocharged 2.0-liter engine making 316 hp, it was quite responsive (0 to 60 mph in 5.8 seconds). Yet, because of excellent aerodynamic efficiency, it will return 31 highway mpg. Cloaked in dark brown with a cream-colored interior, the V90 T6 AWD Inscription fired us up. It’s sensible like a Swede, sleek without straining, and scrumptious with its tailored dash and other appointments. This one stickered for $69,340. Placing the V90 on the shopping list would lead to a hard decision for those also considering a Mercedes-Benz E-Class Estate.

Please note: Volvo is not stocking the V90 in dealerships and is offering the car only as a special order. Searching for a more efficient method of retailing, senior vice president Lex Kerssemakers said he would rather not overload dealerships with inventory. “We just want to see how it works,” he said.

The return leg to Denver was completed in a 2018 S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription. The sedan enjoys a 4.5-inch increase in rear legroom, has a panoramic sunroof, and incorporates hybrid propulsion. The tradeoffs from having the electric drive components behind the rear seat are lack of space for a spare tire and a slightly smaller fuel tank. This is the car the successful executive, entrepreneur, or professional will purchase after receiving a phone reminder to “Reward Yourself.” The S90 is altogether satisfying to drive and expresses a degree of noncomformity.

Our day in the latest Volvos confirmed several things. Volvo is making great cars and crossovers that proceeded over Colorado’s roads with the “relaxed confidence” Kerssemakers and his crew like to speak of. The strategies emphasizing electrification, autonomy, and ultimate safety are right on, yet the knack for design is as strong as ever. And meeting the magnificent Malins from engineering, CEO Kerssemakers, and product guru Hans Nilsson—who has raced and improved the same Volvo 240 for more than two decades—gives us plenty of reason to believe in the company. How great it is to have Volvo back from its period of eclipse.

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $53,895/$71,590 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,599 lb 0-60 MPH 4.9 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 AWD R-Design Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $45,895/$59,740 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 /316 hp @ 5,700 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE 21/27 mpg (city/highway) L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,045 lb 0-60 MPH 5.6 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo V90 T6 AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $58,945/$69,340 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/316 hp @ 5,400 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 5-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD station wagon EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 194.3 x 79.5 x 58.1 in WHEELBASE 115.8 in WEIGHT 4,169 lb 0-60 MPH 5.8 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

2018 Volvo S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $64,745/$82,140 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD, sedan EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 200.1 x 74.6 x 57.1 in WHEELBASE 120.5 in WEIGHT N/A 0-60 MPH  4.7 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

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Swedes in Denver: We Drive the 2018 Volvo XC60, V70, and S90 T8 Hybrid

EVERGREEN, Colorado — The solar eclipse occurred as we ended the morning’s drive from Denver to Evergreen. Most people watched the celestial event through special glasses, but one woman on the shore of Evergreen Lake wore a welder’s mask. Better yet, a lucky few climbed into the cushy backseat of a 2018 Volvo XC60 to look through the laminated panoramic roof with a special filter.

Volvo was happily showing off its all-new XC60, which replaces the previous-generation model after nine years. Malin Ekholm, vice president of the Volvo Cars Safety Centre, had even come all the way from Sweden to share her passion for the XC60’s class-leading suite of standard and optional safety features. But Ekholm had neglected to mention eclipse-viewing protection. It could probably have been claimed as an industry first: “blind spot” protection par excellence.

We had arrived at this scene in an XC60 T6 AWD R-Design, ours since the midmorning coffee break. The R-Design is the obvious choice for enthusiasts. Equipped with paddle shifters, it allows the desired amount of driver interaction on sweeping, swooping mountain roads. We often kept the eight-speed automatic transmission in third gear for bursts on short straightaways as well as the engine-braking effect when approaching turns. Yes, the morning had begun with a technical presentation, and we heard how autonomous driving is a pursuit of Volvo’s. No, we weren’t interested just now.

Setting the driving mode in Dynamic gave us the right amount of steering assist. The suspension—double-wishbone front and an integral-link rear—and optional 21-inch R-Design Wheels with summer tires made this 4,045-pound crossover into a multi-sport athlete. With all-wheel drive, it excels at the steeplechase but won’t fall too far behind in a road race. In fact, at 184.6 inches, it’s just 1.3 inches longer than the Ferrari 812 Superfast, so be ready for some fun.

Under the hood, there’s the turbocharged and supercharged 2.0-liter four-cylinder engine we know from the larger XC90. This direct-injection DOHC 16-valve unit produces 316 hp at 5,700 rpm and 295 lb-ft of torque in a flat curve through the midrange. If we could only tell our uncle, who always dressed in a white T-shirt and bluejeans and believed so fervently in cubic inches, that the R-Design will sprint from 0 to 60 mph in 5.6 seconds, we know he would say, “Yer dreamin’!”

This second-generation crossover is good-looking, too. The R-Design features dramatic LED running lights, a black mesh grille, and bladelike lower fascia elements. The flanks have obviously benefited from Crossfit training, and the tail has nicely integrated pipes and a tidy “body control” lower insert.

Inside the XC60 R-Design, we found the upholstery and trim to be a trite rehash of performance-car norms. It was serious to a fault with black leather and Nubuck seats, black headliner, and aluminum inlays. It just didn’t seem like a Volvo; Swedes don’t think like this. Nevertheless, it’s all included in the $3,300 R-Design package (the big wheels are another $1,000).

The 2018 XC60 has a base price of $45,895, but our tester climbed the price ladder with a Convenience Package ($2,000) adding Pilot Assist semi-autonomous driving and power-folding second-row seats with electric-folding headrests; a Vision Package ($1,100) adding numerous driver assistance features; Advanced Package ($1,900) for whiz-bangery like 360-degree-view camera, head-up display, and LED headlights that peek around corners. Heated front seats and heated steering wheel, pleasing metallic blue paint, and a sound system that at $3,200 is more expensive than starting your own band brought the final tab to $59,740.

Starting out from Denver, after the early technical presentation, we had driven the even more expensive XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription. This Apollonian chariot—a leader of Volvo’s ballyhooed strategy that will find all models offered with electrification by next year—incorporates an 87 hp electric motor and 10.4 kWh battery in the most unobtrusive way. We never noticed any pausing or hesitation after pressing the accelerator, nor did we hear the annoying street-railway whine of Toyota’s Synergy Drive under braking. The combined output is 400 hp and 472 lb-ft, so the T8 shows plenty of eagerness despite weighing in at 4,599 lb. It sprints from 0 to 60 mph in just 4.9 seconds, yet the EPA combined rating, which is still being determined, is sure to exceed the T6’s 27 highway mpg.

The one major knock against this hybrid is the lack of any powertrain resistance on long downhill sections. The gearshift, which has a lovely Orrefors crystal element, lacks a sport shift feature for downshifting, and there are no paddle shifters, so we rode the brakes and cringed. It also sacrifices towing capacity (5,291 lb versus 4,409 lb) compared to the non-hybrids. Otherwise, with the optional air suspension, the driving was excellent.

In top-of-the-line Inscription trim ($71,590 as tested), the T8 E-AWD has a stately look with touches of elegance, and the interior is glorious, with a beautiful sculpted dashboard. Volvo could have told us the driftwood inlays had been gathered on skerries of the Stockholm archipelago by Ole Larsson and Lars Olsson during fishing bans. Or maybe the Swedes just tricked Finns into doing it. Whatever the sourcing, a unique storytelling opportunity is being wasted.

Malin Labecker, the engineer who leads the digital user-experience effort, had also come from Sweden, in her case to demonstrate the infotainment system. Yes, there were two Malins, and they explained the name was popular for baby girls in the 1970s because of a character in Astrid Lindgren’s 1964 TV series Vi på Saltkråkan, or We on Seacrow Island. While Malin Ekholm leads the safety effort, Malin Labecker and her team deserve credit for the crackerjack infotainment system and its 9.0-inch touchscreen. The home display presents four “tiles” for the major departments, and obscure functions are never more than a few swipes away. Meanwhile, it and the 12.3-inch driver instrument display look beautiful. Other automakers should be jealous of Volvo’s achievement.

Volvo also brought the latest 90-series cars, and after the eclipse (and lunch), we sampled the V90 T6 AWD Inscription. Loving station wagons as we do, it was only natural to open the tailgate first, admiring the 69.0 cubic feet of cargo volume and 78.3 inches of Goldendoodle stretch-out space with second row seats folded. A flip-up grocery bag holder is part of the $1,900 convenience package.

The V90 is 9.7 inches longer than the XC60, and its liftover height of 24.0 inches is 6.6 inches lower. With the same super- and turbocharged 2.0-liter engine making 316 hp, it was quite responsive (0 to 60 mph in 5.8 seconds). Yet, because of excellent aerodynamic efficiency, it will return 31 highway mpg. Cloaked in dark brown with a cream-colored interior, the V90 T6 AWD Inscription fired us up. It’s sensible like a Swede, sleek without straining, and scrumptious with its tailored dash and other appointments. This one stickered for $69,340. Placing the V90 on the shopping list would lead to a hard decision for those also considering a Mercedes-Benz E-Class Estate.

Please note: Volvo is not stocking the V90 in dealerships and is offering the car only as a special order. Searching for a more efficient method of retailing, senior vice president Lex Kerssemakers said he would rather not overload dealerships with inventory. “We just want to see how it works,” he said.

The return leg to Denver was completed in a 2018 S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription. The sedan enjoys a 4.5-inch increase in rear legroom, has a panoramic sunroof, and incorporates hybrid propulsion. The tradeoffs from having the electric drive components behind the rear seat are lack of space for a spare tire and a slightly smaller fuel tank. This is the car the successful executive, entrepreneur, or professional will purchase after receiving a phone reminder to “Reward Yourself.” The S90 is altogether satisfying to drive and expresses a degree of noncomformity.

Our day in the latest Volvos confirmed several things. Volvo is making great cars and crossovers that proceeded over Colorado’s roads with the “relaxed confidence” Kerssemakers and his crew like to speak of. The strategies emphasizing electrification, autonomy, and ultimate safety are right on, yet the knack for design is as strong as ever. And meeting the magnificent Malins from engineering, CEO Kerssemakers, and product guru Hans Nilsson—who has raced and improved the same Volvo 240 for more than two decades—gives us plenty of reason to believe in the company. How great it is to have Volvo back from its period of eclipse.

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $53,895/$71,590 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,599 lb 0-60 MPH 4.9 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo XC60 T8 AWD R-Design Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $45,895/$59,740 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 /316 hp @ 5,700 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD crossover EPA MILEAGE 21/27 mpg (city/highway) L x W x H 184.6 x 78.7 x 65.3 in WHEELBASE 112.8 in WEIGHT 4,045 lb 0-60 MPH 5.6 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph

2018 Volvo V90 T6 AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $58,945/$69,340 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/316 hp @ 5,400 rpm 295 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 5-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD station wagon EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 194.3 x 79.5 x 58.1 in WHEELBASE 115.8 in WEIGHT 4,169 lb 0-60 MPH 5.8 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

2018 Volvo S90 T8 E-AWD Inscription Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $64,745/$82,140 (base/as tested) ENGINE Direct-injection 2.0L turbocharged and supercharged DOHC 16-valve I-4 and electric motor with 10.4 kWh lithium-ion battery/400 hp @ 5,700 rpm 472 lb-ft @ 2,200 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD, sedan EPA MILEAGE TBD L x W x H 200.1 x 74.6 x 57.1 in WHEELBASE 120.5 in WEIGHT N/A 0-60 MPH  4.7 sec TOP SPEED 130 mph

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