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ereardon · 1 year

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When I'm Done With You [Bob Floyd x Reader]

Gif cred: @delopsia

A Bob Floyd frat AU

Summary: At a fraternity mixer, you lose your (admittedly shitty) boyfriend in the crowd. That’s when Bob Floyd, president of Alpha Tau and your boyfriend’s personal nemesis, finds you and decides to make you his.

Pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

Warnings: Cursing, fraternities, SMUT, gambling

WC: 5.5K

A/N: This was entirely written because of the new Lew frat photos. I have no self control. We are sluts in this household for Lewis Pullman.

“Say it,” he demanded. Bob’s eyes were dark, his fingers rough against the delicate skin of your chin as he tipped your gaze toward his.

His voice was low and hoarse and it forced a crop of goosebumps up and down your bare arms, and the exposed flesh of your thighs.

“Say it,” Bob repeated and you squeezed your legs together, mouth hanging open as he slipped a thumb inside, pad of his finger pressing down softly against your wet tongue. You instinctively closed your lips around the digit, sucking loudly, and Bob’s blue eyes grew darker.

He removed his thumb, sliding the saliva over your cheek as his hand gripped the back of your neck tightly. The beat of the music in the house mixed with your rapid heartbeat and you were pulsating from the inside out.

Bob stood, waiting, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you condescendingly, the popped collar of his button down shirt nudging against the curling edges.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whispered and his lips pulled back in a smirk. A Cheshire Cat grin.

“Beg.”

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you moaned, stepping closer, brushing your body against him, desperate for his touch.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he said.

“You.”

“That’s right,” Bob said and you couldn’t help but lean forward, your pelvis aching for him even though you had no idea what he would feel like inside of you. All you knew in that moment was how all-consuming the idea of Bob fucking you was. “You belong to me. Not him, me. You’re all mine.”

You nodded weakly and Bob leaned down, ghosting his lips over yours.

“When I’m done with you,” he whispered, “tell your boyfriend I say hi.”

*One Day Before*

“Get in, we’re going to be late.”

You sighed, sliding across the hot leather seat as Seth reached over and yanked the door shut before dropping the Jeep into gear and peeling off before you could even get your seatbelt on. “Fuck,” you groaned. “Relax, we’re like two minutes early still.”

“Would be earlier if you could learn how to read a clock.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to look out the window. Campus flew by as Seth skidded down the road before pulling over in front of the Sigma Chi house. “It’s just a stupid meeting,” you said as he shoved the car into park.

Seth’s eyes burned as he turned to you. “I’m the president, Y/N. How would it look if the president didn’t show up on time?”

“You’re the president of a fraternity,” you huffed, dropping down onto the gravel driveway and slamming the door shut, “not the president of the United States.”

Seth tossed a dirty look over his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs, pulling open the double wood doors to reveal the house’s imposing front room. At the far end, directly within your sight, was a stone fireplace so tall you could stand under it, like a medieval ballroom. Or maybe it was the long hallway of framed composite photographs of former fraternity council members lining the walls that gave off the castle vibes. Either way, you always noticed a chill in the air the moment you entered the Sigma Chi house, even on a sweltering day.

Today was no different.

Seth strode through the wide room toward the staircase. “Babe!” he called out. “I’ll be back in thirty.”

You nodded but he had already rounded the corner, descending the stairs to the basement. You shivered at the thought, instead shaking your head and making your way across the room toward the door at the far end which led out to the side yard where a small garden with chairs sat facing both the back and the road in front of the house.

Sometimes, especially on a day like today, you wondered why you were with Seth at all. It wasn’t the fraternity thing. Some girls swooned over frat guys. But the parties, once you stripped away the veneer of loud music and dark lighting, were more disgusting than you could ever imagine. And only someone who had witnessed the space first-hand the day after, drinking coffee while watching pledges scrub vomit and caked in dirt and rivulets of beer from the wooden floors, could attest to that fact.

It wasn’t that he was particularly charming or nice. It wasn’t that he was all together handsome, although you supposed he was decently good in bed.

Perhaps it was the fact that you just didn’t want to be alone. Being with Seth was the perfect amount of commitment. He was busy half of the week with fraternity business, and there was always somewhere to go on the weekends.

He was a safety blanket.

You sat perched on an adirondack chair, a pair of sunglasses slipped over your eyes, turning your head when you heard a few voices coming from near the front of the house. Squinting, you spotted a gaggle of guys walking down the sidewalk. They weren’t stopping, so they definitely weren’t Sigma Chi.

Upon closer inspection, you recognized a few of them. Namely, Bob Floyd. President of Alpha Tau.

And Seth’s personal rival.

The two of them had gone head-to-head in more ways than you could count. In the economics department last semester for a research fellowship.

Bob had won.

At the spring fraternity wrestling contest.

Seth had somehow beaten Bob, but only after several rounds of close calls on both sides.

Seth had made it crystal clear that Bob Floyd was not someone you were allowed to speak to. So when Bob stopped, his gaze locked on yours, your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth, as if to call out to him, but words died in your throat. He lifted up his sunglasses and winked, before taking off down the road, falling seamlessly back into conversation with his friends as if nothing had even happened.

You couldn’t explain why. But you felt your pulse quicken, an ache developing in your pelvis. You shook your head.

Bob Floyd was the very last person who should make you feel this way.

***

You turned in the mirror, examining your short dress. “Are you sure this looks OK?”

Annie nodded from where she sat on your bed. “You look perfect. Going to make those frat boys lose their minds.”

You rolled your eyes and smoothed your hands over the silky fabric, adjusting the skinny straps. “Are the shoes too much?” You wiggled your ankles and the stilettos you had on.

“You know you’re fifteen times hotter than Seth, right?” Annie said and you looked up with a gasp. “Oh, don’t give me that. He’s kind of a tool and we both know it.”

Annie had been your roommate for two years and she’d seen everything unfold with Seth. From the first time the two of you met at a party to the first time he broke your heart and you took him back.

To say she wasn’t a fan was an understatement.

You leaned down, filling your purse. “You should come tonight,” you said. “It could be fun.”

“Absolutely not.” Annie jumped up and strode to the door. “But call me when shit hits the fan, OK? I’ll come pick you up.”

You smiled. “Love you.”

Once she was gone, you looked at your reflection in the mirror one more time. A part of you was dreading tonight. The annual frat mixer, where fraternity brothers from all of the different chapters mingled together on Greek Row. Tonight’s party was going to be hosted by two neighboring houses: the Delta Kappa Epsilons and the Alpha Taus.

You grabbed your purse and headed for the front door, calling an Uber. Seth had claimed he was too busy to swing by and pick you up for the party.

Just to torture him, before you left you reached down, slipping off your black thong and flinging it into the corner pile of laundry. You pulled out your phone and texted Seth.

See you in a few, you wrote. PS — I’m not wearing any underwear.

***

By the time you got to Greek Row, you could feel a bubble of anxiety building in your chest. Events like this always made you tense up. Before Seth, you hadn’t stepped foot near a fraternity. It still wasn’t your vibe, but you had become somewhat acclimated to Greek life.

You pulled out your phone after stepping out of the Uber. No text. Sighing, you made your way down the sidewalk toward the DKE house.

It was already bustling, and through the large glass windows at the front you could see people already filling up the house, the lights turned down, the music turned all the way up.

Stepping up to the door, it swung open before you could even knock. The boy in a bow tie and jacket smiled at you. “Come on in.” He recognized you. That was one thing: you were Seth Landon’s girl. You were untouchable. There was almost a secret club, the girlfriends of fraternity presidents. You were protected and watched.

Wandering through the rooms of the house, your eyes flitted around for Seth. Everywhere you looked there were couples and stray frat guys, drinking and vaping. It felt oddly civil, considering some of them were mortal enemies.

You made it through the whole house with no sign of Seth and no text. He hadn’t even read your original message. He was the only person you knew under the age of forty with read receipt on.

Sighing, you filed out of the house and down the stairs, shaking your head and making your way over to the Alpha Tau house. Their house was darker, all wooden beams and imposing brass knocker. Again, the door swung open before you could reach up to knock, another frat lackey recognizing you and letting you in.

“Have you seen Seth Landon?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Sorry. Check the back, I know a poker game is starting up.”

You groaned. If there was one thing you knew was Seth’s downfall, it was gambling. He’d bet on anything.

Slowly, this house was more crowded than the DKE one, you stumbled down the halls toward the back. At one point the crowd was too thick, and you cut over through a small hallway near the staircase. You stopped, back to the wall, looking down at your phone, checking again for a message, when an arm came out, hand pressed against the wall behind your head.

You looked up.

Bob Floyd stared down at you. Unlike most of the other guys, he had foregone a blazer. Instead, he wore a blue button up with the collar popped, a pair of khakis molded against his round ass, a needlepoint belt holding in his trim waist. He had a large silver watch on the wrist of the arm next to your head and his blue eyes bore into yours. “Lost, baby girl?” he asked, his voice thick.

You narrowed your eyes. “No. And I’m not your baby girl.”

His free hand rubbed against his mouth and you watched as the veins in his hands and forearms buldged. When he pulled it away, his lips pulled back in a wide grin. “Trust me, I know. You’re Seth Landon’s girl.”

“If you know that, why are you here?” you whispered. “He’d kill you if he saw you talking to me.”

Bob leaned in closer until he was practically caging you against the wall. “I’m not scared of that jackass,” he said.

Your eyes met his. Bob ran his tongue over his pink lower lip. You didn’t even care to look around and see if others had spotted you and Bob in the narrow hallway. For some reason, standing there with Bob, not touching, was the singular hottest thing you had experienced in months, maybe years.

He leaned down, tracing your jaw with one finger and you found yourself mewling at his touch. He grinned. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”

Your eyes went wide as you remembered where you were. Who you were with. More specifically, who you weren’t with. Your boyfriend.

Bob took a step back, lifting his hand from your face, but the ghost of his touch lingered. He slipped his hand into his pants pocket, tilting his head to the left. “Landon’s that way,” he murmured.

You nodded, hiking your purse higher onto your shoulder, your legs like gelatine beneath you.

“Baby girl?” he asked. “Come find me when you’re done with that tool. I’ll be upstairs, second floor.”

And then he disappeared, out through the end of the narrow hallway. The minute Bob turned around the corner, air rushed back into your lungs. You pressed one hand to your chest and found that you were trembling.

A couple burst through the door at the end of the hall and you jerked your head, watching as they flitted past you. You took a deep breath, pushing yourself off of the wall and heading toward the back of the house and the poker session the guy at the door had told you about.

It was little surprise that you found Seth sitting at a legitimate poker table, green felt top littered with chips and cards, Seth’s tanned face pinched as he examined the cards in his hands. He tossed in a stack of red chips and let out a grunt when the dealer dropped a two of hearts on the table as the last of five cards. “Fuck!” he said, tossing in his cards. “I’m out.” He looked up and spotted you. “Hey baby, come here.”

You stepped forward and he pulled you onto his lap. His thigh was angular and uncomfortable, his hands were too warm, bordering on sweaty, and he smelled like a pack of Marlboros. “You were supposed to wait for me,” you complained.

His face darkened. “I was busy, Y/N. I have responsibilities.” He looked at the table before nudging you off of him with one hand. “Gotta finish this round, babe. Grab a drink, I’ll come find you.”

“I want to leave,” you said, arms crossed over your chest.

Seth didn’t even look up. “We’re not going.” The five other guys at the table looked up with grins. One let out a low whistle.

You held your ground. “You didn’t even pick me up. You made me chase you through both houses. I’m tired of this.”

“Then leave,” Seth said, his eyes never deviating from the cards in front of his face.

You were seething. The air was thick and tense around the card table as everyone waited for your response. You shrugged. “Fine. Fuck you, Seth.”

Another low whistle. A few heads turned. Seth still refused to face you. “You’re being childish, Y/N,” he said calmly. “Have a beer, chill out. I’ll find you after the game.”

“No, you won’t,” you hissed. “Have a good life.” You peered over his shoulder and then at the cards on the table. “By the way, he’s got a busted straight.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He tossed his cards down in fury, eyes blazing. “What the fuck!”

But you were already halfway out the door, trailing down the darkened hallway, toward the staircase. You sucked in a breath and climbed the wooden stairs, your heart pounding.

All you knew was that you had to find Bob. Your anger was making your head spin. You turned at the top of the stairs, looking both ways before peering out over the railing, legs shaking. After two years, you thought there would be tears. At least some kind of sadness. But you felt nothing for Seth.

Only anger.

You swiveled around, starting down one dark hallway. Everywhere you looked it was wood paneled. Imposing. Borderline threatening. You wandered all the way down the hallway, passing a slew of closed doors, before finding a door at the end of the hallway that was ajar, warm light seeping in through the crack.

Softly, you nudged it open to reveal Bob Floyd standing in front of a massive fireplace, one forearm resting against the mantle which held a large framed frat composite from that year’s class.

And even though your steps were silent, he heard you. “How did I know you’d come looking for me?” he said before turning around, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

You lingered by the doorway. Stepping inside further would only seal your fate.

Bob’s gaze never left you. Several moments passed, just the two of you in the study, before you finally stepped forward, closing the door behind you.

You had just signed away Seth in a single movement.

Bob crossed the expanse of the room in a few long strides. For perhaps the first time you looked at him, really looked at him. You had spent so long avoiding Bob because of Seth’s hatred toward him. But somewhere deep down you knew why Seth hated him so much. Because Bob was better. Smarter, smoother, more charming. He was everything Seth wanted to be and couldn’t.

He walked you backward until your back was pressed against the supple leather arm of a dimpled couch that sat in front of the wide wooden hearth. You felt the clammy coolness of the leather stick to your bare skin.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice slow. Deliberate. “Tell me what you want.”

You shook your head, denying him. It felt good. For the first time in a long time you were striking out on your own. Seth couldn’t put you down or keep you boxed in.

Bob didn’t want to hold you back. He didn’t want to tame you. What you didn’t know was that while you had been avoiding him, he had been seeking you out. Watching as you made your way through the dining hall, eyes combing the long tables for Seth, glazing over him entirely. What you hadn’t seen was the way Bob’s body pulsated when you were closer, like an alarm that only he could hear.

You had decided five minutes ago that you wanted Bob. He had decided two years ago that he was going to make you his.

“Say it,” he demanded.

You parted your mouth, letting him slip his thick thumb against your tongue as you tasted him, sucking greedily. He slid his finger out from your puckered mouth, across your face, grabbing your neck, drawing you closer.

What you thought was condescension crossed his eyes. But it was lust. It was pure, unadulterated lust and excitement.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you murmurred and Bob grinned. He hardened in his khakis as you begged him.

Bob reached down, sliding one arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly as his lips descended on yours, ravishing you, moving off of your mouth onto your neck as you cried out in pleasure, his fingertips squeezing your waist, desperate for you. Before you could even moan his name, Bob spun you around until your hands came out to hold you up from against the couch as he pressed, hard, on your back, sending you curled, face-down, onto the dark leather.

He sank to his knees, shoving up the short hem of your dress, practically combusting when he saw you were naked beneath it.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling out a hand and smacking your round ass cheek, hard. You cried out. “Do you want more?” he asked and even though he was rough, you knew that he would stop if you wanted him to.

You buried your head against the cool leather. “Yes, daddy.”

Bob pulled his hand back, landing it again on your soft skin, eliciting a groan from you as you instinctively wiggled away, digging your bare core against the curved arm of the couch. He lurched forward, pressing his soft lips to your ass cheek, nipping at the flesh softly as his hand nudged your knees further apart until you were spread wide for him. “Good girl,” he murmured, tracing his hands over your bare thighs. “Now tell me what you want.”

“You.” It came out broken but Bob knew exactly what you meant. His hands migrated up your thighs until his thumbs were spreading you apart, your slick juices already starting to drip down his digits as he shoved his face between your legs, tongue nudging your entrance as you gasped against the couch. “Oh!”

Bob pressed forward, his tongue coming out to lick your folds as his fingers gripped you tightly, holding your trembling legs apart. “Be still,” he commanded as you whined against the couch before reaching up and pressing one thick finger into your throbbing cunt, a scream echoing through the room as you adjusted to him. Bob immediately began to thrust his finger in and out of your tight pussy before pulling out entirely.

Just as you were about to whine at the loss of contact, you felt his hands on your waist, dragging you up and spinning you around. Bob dropped back down to his knees, pushing your dress up to your hips, yanking you forward until you were teetering on the edge of the couch arm.

“Come here,” he whispered gruffly and your head fell back in a moan as Bob licked up your folds, tongue dancing along the nub of your clit instantly.

“Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it,” he murmured, sucking your clit harshly before driving two fingers this time into your squelching pussy. “Fuck yes.” Bob curled his fingers inside of you, your spongy walls gripping him tightly as his tongue slid in tight circles around your clit until you were wiggling, whining, moaning above him, your legs shaking where you stood with your stilettos pressed against the ground.

“Bob!”

His name on your lips set Bob on fire. He pressed inside of you deeper, sucking tightly on your clit until you were coming on his fingers and face, screaming his name.

Bob drove you into overstimulation, unable to tear himself away from between your legs until your fingers were threading themselves into his long hair, a string of begs falling from your lips. “Please, please, please, fuck it’s too much.” Finally, he lifted his head, mouth slick with your juices, rubbing at his lips with the back of his hand. You remained on the edge of the couch arm, legs spread open, pussy on display, as Bob stood, wrapping one hand around your neck. “Always knew you’d like my mouth on your pussy,” he murmured and you blushed.

Before you could object, Bob had his arm around your waist, tugging down your dress, hand on your hips, guiding you toward the door. You looked back at him over your shoulder and he nodded reassuringly.

“My room’s across the hall,” he said, voice low. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

And then the two of you were locked in his bedroom. It was a near clone of the room you had just been in, but with a bed against the far wall instead of a couch and fireplace.

You turned to face Bob. His eyes watched you carefully.

Bob reached out, both hands grabbing your waist, dragging you closer until the two of you were only millimeters apart. “Bob?” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing this just because of how much you hate Seth?”

“Are you?”

You didn’t know. So instead you trailed your hands down to his belt and Bob’s eyes widened, but he remained silent.

Silent as you unfastened his belt, fingers reaching for his zippered fly, feeling how hard he was already beneath his khakis.

Silent as you eased his pants down his legs, kneeling at his feet, coming face-to-face with his barely covered cock as he bulged against the tight fabric of his boxers.

Silent as you yanked the waistband of his boxer briefs down, gasping as his long, thick cock sprang to attention, practically hitting you in the face. You hesitated. “Are you going to suck my cock, baby?” he asked mockingly.

To Bob’s surprise you leaned forward, one hand reaching out and cupping the base of his cock, your mouth immediately surrounding his length until you could feel the tip of him bashing against your throat as you choked on him.

“Fuck,” Bob murmurred, fingers grabbing your hair, yanking you backward. You looked up at him expectantly and he almost growled. “Suck me good,” he whispered, “and I’ll fuck you like the little slut I know you think you are.”

You moaned, licking your lips before diving back in, bobbing up and down along his length, using your hands to grip his base, twisting up and down as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in.

Above you, Bob closed his eyes, using his hands to surround your head as he fucked into your face, causing you to moan and pushing saliva out of your mouth down the edges of your lips, tears springing to your eyes as he pushed his cock further into your throat and you gagged. “Taking me so well,” he murmured, looking down at you at his feet. “Fuck, look at you. A fucking mess.”

You whimpered on his length and Bob drove himself faster into your mouth, both hands pressed against your scalp as he thrust his hips toward your face, your nose buried in his pubic hair until he could feel himself coming undone.

“Shit, fuck, yes!” he cried as he shot thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat, spilling down your throat and filling your mouth, seeping out the corners as he looked down, thrusting one last time into your mouth until you were gagging around him, mouth full.

He pulled out of you and you swallowed harshly. Bob reached out and dragged the pad of his thumb beneath your eyes, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. He reached out a hand, helping you to your feet.

“Take off your clothes.” It was a demand, not a request. You shed your dress quickly, stepping out of it and standing naked in front of Bob.

His eyes slowly worked their way down, from the top of your head to your feet in the stilettos.

“Shoes.”

You kicked them off. Bob pushed away his pants, slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt desire bubble up inside of you as he shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it onto the ground, reaching out and laying you back onto the bed.

Bob suctioned his lips to your neck, slotting himself between your legs, your ankles crossing over behind his perfect ass and you could feel him, hard again, against your inner thigh as you rolled your hips up toward him.

He kissed down the column of your throat, landing on your breast, sucking the nipple between his teeth as you whimpered.

“So fucking desperate,” he muttered. “It’s like you’ve never been fucked before. Landon probably has a tiny dick, doesn’t he? Never made you feel anything.”

“Don’t talk about him,” you groaned, trying not to lose your focus as Bob skimmed his hips against yours, dragging his fat cock over your folds as you clutched his arms. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Bob pulled back, eyes hard. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“Yes?”

He reached out one hand, cupping your jaw gently. “Baby, I'm only going to tell you once. In here, you’re mine, you understand? You do what I say, unless you want out.”

You throbbed between your legs. “Yes daddy.”

He nodded. “Good girl. Now get on your knees and face the headboard.”

You did as you were told. Bob positioned himself between you, fingers raking down your back from your shoulders to your waist before dipping down and circling your clit. You let out a sharp whine as he spread your folds apart, nudging your legs wider, settling behind you. There was the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open and then you felt Bob nudge at your entrance.

Bob leaned forward, pushing the thick head of his cock inside of you, and you moaned. He kissed your back along your spine as he slid deeper inside your tight cunt, stretching you open. Bob reached down, grabbing your waist, forcing himself in further until he let out a deep moan as he pressed the last inch inside, filling you completely, threatening to break you apart.

You whimpered as he pulled back, slamming his hips forward, filling you to the breaking point. “Bob!”

“Right here baby girl,” he mumbled. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You let out a sharp cry as he pounded into you. Bob’s large hands pulled you upright, one arm wrapped around your chest, hand firmly holding your breast.

“Look up,” he demanded and when you did your eyes widened. Above the headboard was a large mirror. You watched as Bob’s eyes followed yours while he fucked up into you from behind, his free hand reaching down and toying with your cunt.

You moaned, shutting your eyes, and Bob slapped your clit harshly.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded and you did as you were told. “Watch me while I fuck you.”

You watched, mouth open, as Bob filled you repeatedly, his moans filling your ear as he panted, fingers squeezing your nipple, thumb digging into your clit in sharp circles as he thrust into you. “I’m going to come,” you groaned and Bob’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as you shuddered around him.

You slumped back against him and Bob laid you down gently onto the bed before reaching down and digging your head into the mattress, one hand on the back of your head as he sped up his hips, plunging his thick cock into you as you screamed for him, legs shaking from the remnants of your orgasm. “Fuck!” he shouted, pulling out of you and rolling you over, ripping off the condom and pumping his length twice before shooting more cum all over your bare tits, letting it drip off of his softening cock onto your drenched cunt as you laid beneath him, trembling.

Bob tossed the condom out, reaching down and scooping up the white cum from your stomach. He held out his finger near your mouth and instinctively you opened it, letting him push the spend against your tongue. He groaned watching you swallow, tits covered in sticky semen.

“If you want to clean up,” he said, tilting his head toward the bathroom.

When you returned, you frowned. “What is that?”

“A shirt.” Bob stood, holding it out and helping you pull it on. It fell to mid-thigh and he slowly buttoned the two middle buttons.

“What about my dress?” you murmured.

“You don’t need it for what I have planned,” Bob said, pulling you down onto his lap, his fingers tight against your neck.

***

The next morning, you woke up sore and exhausted.

Bob lent you a jacket and the two of you descended the stairs with his jacket draped over your shoulders. On the first floor of the house, pledges were scrubbing the floors and the walls, cleaning up empty beer cans, and mopping the kitchen.

Bob’s hand was warm on your waist as he guided you through the house. “Let me drive you home,” he murmured and you nodded.

Once he pulled his Range Rover up to your apartment, you jumped out and to your surprise, Bob got out too, crossing around the front of the car, closing the door behind you. He opened his mouth just as the two of you heard a voice from over your shoulder.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Seth stood up from where he had been half asleep on your front stoop. His tanned face was pinched and red. Instinctively, Bob reached out, half hiding you behind him, one hand protectively on your waist.

“Get your hands off my girl right fucking now, Floyd,” Seth seethed, “or I will punch your lights out.”

“Would love to see you try, asshole.”

Seth stepped forward but Bob still had four inches on him. He was angry and practically buzzing whereas Bob was calm and cool.

Seth peered around Bob the best he could.

“Where the fuck were you?” he demanded. “With him? You fucking whore.”

Bob’s fist came out so fast you didn’t even have time to think. One second the three of you were standing in the early morning sun and the next minute Seth was on the grass, writhing in pain, blood spurting out of his nose as Bob shook out his hand.

“Fuck! What the fuck dude?”

“Don’t speak to her like that.” Bob’s voice was eerily level. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fuck your girlfriend for the fifth time this morning.”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you toward your apartment, the two of you stepping directly over Seth’s prostrate body.

Bob waited for you to open the door to your apartment before shutting it tight and locking it, swiveling you around until your back was pressed against the door. His dark eyes bore into yours. “You’re mine now,” he whispered gruffly.

You nodded. You were his.

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 days

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A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline that's turning into a fic Part 4 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: nsfw, mention of wartime trauma <----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-When you get back to your room, you don’t really speak, just help each other out of your sopping wet clothes. It is late, and you are both tired, and still a little drunk–but it doesn’t stop you from kissing. You just can’t seem to help yourselves, the magic of the night has not faded, and his arms are around you, and your bare skin is pressed to his. You’ve never felt anything more wonderful.

You burrow under the covers against the night chill, still kissing. The velvety pressure of his manhood against your belly is maddening, and when he reaches down you spread your legs for him, so eager for his touch, for his strong hands on you. He strums at your slit, moaning into your mouth as he feels how wet you are for him. He touches you with those thick fingertips, finding a rhythm you like upon your sensitive bud, your tongues at war.

“Paul,” you pant, forcing yourself to be quiet, afraid you might wake the household with your passion.

“So beautiful,” he says against your cheek. “I don’t want to trap you, y/n. I understand, if you don’t want a baby. But…let me give this to you.” He ducks to kiss your breasts, flicking your nipple with his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it–your pleasure surprises you, ripping through you like a string of firecrackers, your spine arching off the bed, your cries muffled by his mouth on yours again. As you come back to the world he smiles down at you with boyish delight, so sweet. Always so sweet, this man. As if you weren’t falling hard enough already.

No one has ever touched you like that. With such care and focus for your own enjoyment. Not Juan. Not the handful of beaus who took you out and fumbled with you in the front seat of their cars or on dark park benches after a date.

“Your turn,” you say languidly, your head still in the clouds, your heart full of some warm and damning emotion, crawling on top of him under the sheet. For some reason he seems surprised by this, as though he didn’t expect any reciprocation, your pleasure was enough for him. Is he even real?

“You don’t…have to…” he sighs as you kiss down his torso, his gentle fingers sliding into your hair.

“What if I want to?” you ask, certain he’ll think you’re such a floozy in the morning, but right now, you don’t care.

Again, he gives that shaky, self-deprecating laugh, as you brush his sensitive tip with your chin. “I couldn’t say no…God, I want you…” He moans as you take him into your mouth, tongue swirling the sensitive ridge of his head. Bless this man, but he’s so pent up it doesn’t take long at all, from you bobbing on his impressive length, before he is spilling into your mouth with a pained groan. You’ve never done it before, but you swallow him down without thinking, as though you are greedy for any trace of his essence inside you.

“Sweetheart…” You collapse against his shoulder, and he wraps you up in those strong arms. He is asleep in moments, his head pressed against yours, but you lay there thinking a little longer. You think about how wonderful that was, and yet. Your body still aches to feel him inside you. That is the cosmic joke, you suppose. The thing that fulfills you most as a woman, will also prove your demise.

And you start to think, with greater charity towards your parents, that maybe this is why you have 9 siblings. Not because your father was careless and callous about your mother. Because…they were in love, and they just couldn’t live without this, no matter the consequences.

You are quiet about it, but you cry in the divot of Paul’s shoulder, that feels as though it was formed in the clay, just for you.

---------

-The soft light of morning streaming through the windows, you are woken by a lovely soft baritone singing in Spanish very badly.

“Amor...si me llamas amor…”

Hungover, you groan, pulling the sheet over your head. Paul just chuckles behind you, burrowing into your hair, the long warm line of his body spooning yours.

“Sii me dejas amarte, mi bien...yo te voy a adorar.”

If you let me love you, I will adore you.

You believe he would, too. It equally annoys you and fills you with that sneaky, creeping warmth again.

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” you groan, snuggling back into him nonetheless, as though your body cannot help itself.

“Don Pedro said it was a sure thing,” he chuckles, clearly fond of the old man. “He’s been married fifty years, he must know what he’s talking about.”

“We’re Catholics, Paul, we don’t do divorce. We stick to our mistakes until they kill us.”

His big hand caressing the curve of your hip freezes. “It looks like he and doña Catalina are still in love to me.”

“Or fondly resigned. Hard to tell.”

“What made you so cynical?”

Because love killed my mother, and I don’t want to end up like her.

“I just…have a brain, Paul. I see what goes on in front of me. I prefer not to tell pretty lies about it. Lies that are convenient mostly just for men.”

He actually laughs behind you, a disbelieving huff. He’s not angry, you can tell. Maybe just…flabbergasted.

“I’ve never met a woman who thinks like you.”

“There are plenty of women who think like me. We just…don’t get a voice.”

“Is that what you plan to write your books about?”

“Maybe.”

“You write a lot. I see you scribbling in your notebook all the time.”

“It’s…just how I try to make sense of life.”

“Meanwhile, the rest of us dummies are just stuck living it, huh?”

Here it is. You knew you’d offend him, eventually. “I don’t think you’re dumb,” you growl, trying to vacate the bed. But he pulls you back, with one of those strong arms around your waist.

“Hey, wait. Don’t be mad.”

You hang your head, hiding in the bed clothes. “Paul…I am always mad.”

“Hmm.” He kisses your shoulder. “You didn’t seem mad, last night?”

How does he do that? Diffuse the bomb of your temper with a kiss and a few words?

“Well…you seem to have that effect on me.” He grins, so open and sweet, it hurts your heart.

“I think that makes us a good match, y/n. Like maybe we could balance each other out.”

“Hmm.” Your brain races at a million miles per minute, but you don’t have the courage to say any of it out loud. Paul seems to sense it too, brushing your nose with his.

“What are you thinking?”

You just shake your head.

“Ok. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” he says with a smile.

“Oh no.”

“What? You’re the only one who gets to have big ideas, smarty pants?” You can tell he’s teasing, and something relaxes inside you.

“How long have you been awake?” you grouse.

“Aww. Someone’s not a morning person.”

“Not after consuming my body weight in pinot noir, no.”

“Poor baby.” He sits up, pulling you to rest on his broad chest. It’s a very nice place to lay your head, if you’re being honest. “I like your idea, about the room with a view.”

Oh no.

“What if…we get ourselves a place? I’ll get a job, and while I’m gone in the day you can write your heart out. Maybe when I get home…you could muster a little time for me?”

And have dinner on the table, no doubt. According to a schedule, which you would get no say in. A schedule that would include getting to see his handsome face, his smile all for you, every day, and falling asleep in his arms, like this…

Ay.

“That doesn’t sound very fair to you?” you attempt to deflect.

“It sounds like heaven, to me.”

Your heart feels like it might explode.

“And…when we save a little money, we can travel? Though Europe’s kind of a mess right now, and I think I’ve had my fill of Asia for a little while–”

You press your lips to his, interrupting him mid thought. “Paul, you are unbelievably sweet.”

“Yeah?”

“In this little idea of yours…are we married?”

“Well…of course.”

Of course you are. No self respecting landlord would even rent to you, otherwise.

“You just got out of a marriage. Why are you so keen to jump back into one?”

“I barely knew her. I married her the day before I shipped out. I thought…I thought I was going to die,” he admits, his fingers digging into your skin with the thought for a telling moment. “I’m still surprised that I didn’t.”

“I’m so grateful, that you didn’t.” The world is a better place with Paul Sutton in it.

He looks down at you with a hairline frown, thoughts of the war, and maybe things not going as he hoped, when he offered you exactly what you said you wanted, bringing this indomitable man low. “Well. That’s something, I guess.”

“Paul…you can take some time, you know. To figure out who you are. You can go to school even, on the GI bill. That is huge. You earned it, you deserve it. You bled for it. Take it.”

He nods, thinking about it, but still so sad.

“Do you see, how I make you sad?” you say to him gently. “When I tell you what I’m really thinking?”

“That’s ok, y/n.”

“It’s not. It wouldn’t be, if we were married. Together all the time. Bound, forever. This is how it would be.”

He cants his head, looking at you. You feel like you can’t hide a thing, when he gives you that look.

“I care about you, y/n. You’re precious to me, and I just…want to honor that.”

“I am honored,” you tell him. “Just hearing you say it…makes me feel like the richest woman in the world.”

He nods, and then smiles, like the sun burst from behind the clouds. How can he do that? When you are in a mood, its like impenetrable fog hangs over you for hours.

“I know you think I would have fallen for any pretty woman who smiled at me on the bus,” he says thoughtfully. “But I think…God or fate or whatever has brought us together, y/n. And I want to find out where it could go. We don’t have to get married to do that, if you don’t want to. But please…don’t push me away because you think I’m fragile? I’m not.”

Suddenly it’s as though you can’t breathe. You nod, unable to find the right words in your mouth, moved to your toes. “I would like that,” you finally admit. You never thought Paul was dumb, per se, but you are beginning to see that he is a lot more intuitive than you thought.

TBC...

#a walk in the clouds #paul sutton x reader #paul sutton #don john #don john x reader #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanuverse #keanuverse fic

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changingplumbob · 1 month

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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 11

To ditch career day... or to not ditch career day...

CW: Distressed infant

Since Tiana cannot speak her thoughts will often be in brackets

While Eliza and Bob have taken infant leave from their jobs, there is no such option for the teens. Fergus and Onyx pop their heads into the nursery where Bob is still rocking a sleeping Tiana and kiss her goodbye for the day. Then school awaits!

It looks like the Pancakes may have missed the outfit memo for today, oops. While Onyx heads off to find some friends Fergus tries to hastily finish the homework he neglected to finish. Unfortunately his friends are not much help this morning.

Anya: I look fabulous, thank you watcher

Artemisia: Are you staring at my best bracelet friend

Darwin: What? No. I was looking for the bus

Artemisia: Looking for the bus while we’re at school, unlikely

Atlas: I don’t think he meant anything by it

Fergus: Hold up- what did you guys get for 13?

Artemisia: Look dude, just keep your eyes to yourself

Darwin: Sure, and you can keep your venom to yourself

Outside the main building Onyx and Paola have some time relaxing.

Onyx: Aim for the centre

Paola: Of course I’m aiming for the centre dummy

Zhafira: Onyx! Hey! Look who caught the bus again successfully!

Zhafira approaches the pair beaming happily.

Onyx: Congrats. Did you hear they’re shuffling classes today

Zhafira looks downcast while Onyx explains the younger and older students will be having combined classes for the morning. They'll be with some of their friends but not Zhafira who seems upset at having to get to know even more new people.

As this is happening Mrs Tinker and Mrs Hensley come over and try give Paola some tips for successful throwing. Unfortunately they have contrasting opinions and in the end the teens decide the safest option is just to pretend they’ve gotten bored and head inside.

Onyx takes a quick swim before class and still manages to get to the room before the teacher begins the lesson.

Mrs T: Today we will be buddying up. Older students please join a younger student and we will begin designing a business for this scenario

Onyx: Mrs T can’t I just buddy up with Amie since she’s beside me

Mrs T: Sorry Onyx but Mr A wants to foster whole school cooperation, that's why we're having staggered classes this morning

Carson: I wish William had been put in here

Darwin: Don’t worry, we’ll see him at lunch

Carson: And I wish some outfits didn’t make my glasses vanish, it's like I've been dressed by a computer

After class wraps up Fergus goes to talk with Artemisia.

Fergus: I’m excited to see what we’ll learn this afternoon

Artemisia: *sighs* Don’t be too excited, it’s career day

Fergus: You’re not punking me, we only just started high school. There is no career day

Artemisia: I’m serious. I’m also thinking of skipping out on it

Fergus: We can do that?

Artemisia: I reckon I can, question is do you have the guts to

Fergus: Of course I do. Onyx was still feeling ill this morning so we can use that excuse to head home

Artemisia: May the best person not be caught

Back home Eliza is carrying Tiana when the infant fusses to be put down.

Eliza: Okay then, down we go

Tiana: *coos* (I coo now mother) *coos louder*

Eliza: Was that a coo? Was that a coo? I think it was *claps*

Tiana smiles and sticks her fingers in her mouth. Mother is pleased, she must be doing well. Even though mother keeps saying the word go, Tiana is happy they haven't seemed to leave the house.

Eliza is busy feeding Tiana when Fergus walks through the room.

Eliza: Hold on! What are you doing home?

Fergus: Umm, Onyx’s head got bad again so we came home so they could get a nap

Fergus walks over to the suckling infant and holds her hand for a bit. Tiana doesn't seem to grip back yet but she's looking at him curiously.

Eliza: You came home so Onyx could nap? I don’t think so. Onyx is capable of napping by themselves

Fergus: Fine, it was career day! I don’t need to worry about that yet. I’ll do extra homework tonight I promise

Eliza burps Tiana who spits up down her back.

Eliza: Ugh. it's okay honey, we can clean that up

Fergus: Want me to grab a cloth

Eliza: Please. Now I do not want you skipping school again, but since you’re here you can walk Strawberry since you're keen to help Onyx

Fergus: But I want to- *sighs* yes mother

The house is left quiet for Onyx’s nap while Bob takes Ginger for a run and Fergus takes Strawberry for a walk.

Eliza: Come on my snuggly sleeper. You get comfy back there and you can nap while mother does her run

Tiana: *coos questioningly* (wait, no, not outside! I don't want to leave) *cries* (I want to stay with mother)

Eliza: It's okay Tiana, mother is right here with you. We're just going to check out the neighbourhood huh. You'll be okay

Eliza jogs off and keeps talking to Tiana. Eventually the regular bouncing of the back carrier and the softness of Eliza's voice lull Tiana to sleep. Eliza is delighted to hear a quiet snuffling snore at her back as she runs.

Later that day...

Fergus: Dad?

Bob: Yes

Fergus: Umm, Tiana is crying. Don’t you think you should go give her a nap rather than carry her on your back

Bob: But- she’s learning with me though

Eliza: Fergus is right Bob, she’s exhausted. Better giver her to me

Bob: But I want to spend time with her

Eliza: And so you can, when she’s awake. You know she had a hard night, she needs to catch up on sleep still

Bob: *sighs* fine. Here Tiana honey, go with your mother *whispers* I'll teach you how to cook later though

Eliza carries a grumpy over tired infant into the nursery and sits down with her in the rocking chair.

Eliza: There there Tiana, it’s okay, you just go to sleep

Tiana: *coos* (mother came back with me, I not left behind) *yawns*

Eliza: It's okay my sleepy girl, mother is right here and daddy is just down the hall. You can sleep, I'll keep you safe

Tiana does feel very tired and so she yawns and falls asleep in Eliza’s arms. It may not be winning a Nobel Prize but Eliza feels pretty proud of finding time in her schedule to snuggle with her daughter.

The teens decided to do their homework at their own desks tonight! Fergus was working away on some science as he has a class trip to the aquarium tomorrow. Onyx meanwhile did their best to study for their exams. After Onyx felt like they could confidently say they were no longer sick they went and did some cheer practice. Later in the evening Tiana woke up.

After a diaper change Eliza gets Tiana into a clean night onesie and goes in search of Bob.

Bob: Thank you for the suggestion. She’s given us so much joy already

Kayleigh: No problem at all I- oh is this her?

Eliza: *grinning* Kayleigh may I introduce our youngest? This is Tiana

Kayleigh: Oh she is precious

Bob: Come to daddy, did you have a nice nap

Eliza: She’s still quite tired, I think she’ll need a proper sleep after her bottle

Bob: We can do that

Kayleigh: I best get going, see you all later

Bob: Can you say bye bye to Kayleigh

Tiana: *coos and snuggles into shoulder* (daddy is here, mother found him for me)

Bob: *chuckles* okay, food time then

Bob is delighted to see Tiana has a healthy appetite. He prepares himself to be spat on but to his surprise only gas comes out. Snuggling Tiana close he carries her down the hall and places her in her crib. He softly tells her another tall tale and the exhausted infant falls asleep happy with the sounds of fellow sims.

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#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0904 #FergusPancakes #OnyxPancakes #ArtemisiaYork #CarsonFoster #BobPancakes #ElizaPancakes #TianaPancakes #KayleighFoster

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losfacedevil · 9 months

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How Do I Say Goodbye // (Skater!Sam)

a/n~ Alright guys.... this one, oooh does this one make ya girl nervous, like super nervous. I've never built a world quite like this one before and this is only the beginning of something SO much bigger than I ever thought he would be. Buckle up, babes, you're in for a wild ride. (Thank you to my ever so lovely Kait for bringing my skater boy to life!) WC: 4.7k

Lenny’s Records

~*~ Your Daily Dose Of Vinyl Therapy~*~

Lenny’s Records cropped up in the early 90’s, taking over a long abandoned and in need of much love store front. It slowly became the place to be, with old man Lenny putting in some of the hardest work to make his store front enticing and inviting. Carrying anything from eight-track tapes to the latest full length records and LPs, Lenny’s carried it all.

The store first caught Sam’s attention in the mid-2000’s, the twelve year olds interests peaked by the records his family often spun; music being the foundation of their daily life. Pressing his nose to the glass of the big picture window he would take in the countless racks of records, some catching his wide eyes as ones he would love to have in the family collection.

Stepping foot in the store for the first time as a freshly turned fourteen year old with birthday money burning a hole in his pocket. He walked the aisles in awe, thousands of records at the tips of his fingers with no real idea of what he was looking for. He sifted through the racks carefully, spending hours just looking. The track lists all catching his eye, record covers of all sorts telling stories without even hearing the music on either side.

Old man Lenny took notice, the tall scrawny boy sat up against the wall, a stack of records sat to his right as he sifted through his finds looking for the perfect one. he quickly settled on a 12 inch pressing of The Basement Tapes by Bob Dylan and the Band. A smile spread across the mans face as Sam put every record he wasn’t purchasing back where they belonged.

Sam’s eyes were alight with wonder as he approached the register, his eyes never leaving the track list set across the back of the record as he placed it on the counter. Lenny picked up the record, looking it over before finding Sam’s gaze.

“Nice choice, kid. You into all the folk rock sounding stuff?” Lenny asked, watching as Sam’s eyes lit up once more. Sam nodded quickly as he dug his money out of his pants pocket.

“We listen to a bunch of different music at home. My parents record collection is huge but I wanted to start my own so they gave me money for my birthday to get my first record.” Sam rambled, music being a passion of the Kiszka family household. Lenny chuckled, placing the record down on the counter and slid it back Sam’s way.

“Your first record huh? This one’s on the house. Happy birthday, son.”

~*~*~

Sam’s relationship with Lenny grew from that day forward. Many long afternoons spend in the record shop keeping the older gentleman company as months quickly turned into years. A quiet spot at the side of the shop set up for Sam to hang out at when he had homework to catch up on. Most of his essays consisting of old man Lenny’s ramblings which never made any sense to Sam but set him up to nail his papers every single time.

Lenny was one of Sam’s biggest supporter, next to his parents. He’d make sure the youngster had everything he needed, from slipping him a twenty dollar bill for the school store to surprising him with a backpack full of supplies the week before he started his senior year of high school. He would often joke with Sam’s parents about wanting his cut of child support, the boy spending more time with Lenny than his own parents but the older man wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sam never thought twice about heading to the record shop. His home away from home even on the worst of days. Lenny knew all about Sam’s ups and down, his strengths and weaknesses. How much he enjoyed space and all things NASA but really struggled where writing essays and forming coherent sentences were involved.

The first time Sammy suffered with a broken heart he turned to Lenny. His brothers having just snickered because ‘you’re just a teenager, Samuel.’ The older gentleman talking him through the narrow roads of the heart break in the best way he could.

It didn’t take long for Sam to begin helping out around the shop, forgetting about the homework he should’ve been doing. Math equations and history questions thrown to the wayside as a truck with new stock rolled in.

“Got it in an auction, there were too many good titles to pass up.” Lenny would shrug, nodding to a crate full of new records for Sam to sift through. “Aht! Not until you finish that calculus homework, son. What would your mother take me for if I put you to work before your school work was done?” He’d chuckle and shake his head as Sam poured and slumped back down in his cushioned kitchen chair.

Sam never knew why old man Lenny was so nice to him. Giving him odd jobs around the shop to earn some pocket cash. Teaching him the ins and outs of the different instruments he had hung behind the register - his own personal collection sat beautifully next to his beloved first sale dollars.

If he knew one thing though, he knew Lenny was someone special, someone you don’t come across very often in your life. From confiding in him about things his brothers did, showing off what he had taught himself on the bass and right down to having his first beer with him.

Sam had laughed that boisterous, just him, laugh as Lenny gave him a standing ovation at his high school graduation. With his valedictorian speech behind him he looked out at the crowd to see all three of his parents stood tall, hands clapping high above their heads as tears streamed down their cheeks.

~*~*~

Harvard Business School.

Somehow, some way, Sam had secured his spot in the one school he merely dreamed of attending. The letter came late one October afternoon, bringing his parents into the shop right before closing time. Lenny beamed from ear to ear as Karen shook the letter in the air, the fingers on her other hand crossed as she handed the letter to Sam. With shaky hands he held it to the light, trying to stealthy see the words on the page inside. His father, Kelly, clapped a reassuring hand down onto Sam’s shoulder with softly spoken words of encouragement.

He slowly broke the seal on the letter, eyes searching for Lenny for that third leg of support. Lenny beamed at Sam with his middle and index fingers crossed on both hands and a soft nod in the youngsters direction. Sam’s eyes slipped shut as he pulled the letter out, letting the envelope flutter to the floor.

Sam slowly unfolded the letter and pulled a deep breath in through his nose, eyes darting between the three adults stood before him. He shook the paper, causing his mother to jump and his father to squeeze against his shoulder once more, both of them over his game of stalling. He made eye contact with Karen, a reassuring smile spread across her face as he slowly lifted the letter and broke their stare. His eyes danced across the page, widening slightly as his jaw slackened and the muscles in his hands forgot how to work together to form a grip.

The paper fluttered to the floor and landed at Karen’s feet. With her head cocked to the side and a concerned look about her features she bent at the waist and gingerly picked the paper up off the floor. Her hands shook just as Sam’s had as she turned her focus to the letter and her eyes danced quickly across the page.

“He got in. Kelly, HE GOT IN!” Sam’s jaw sat slackened as his father wrapped his arms around him, a wild whoop of congratulations spilling from his parents as they took him in their arms.

His shifted his gaze to where Lenny stood behind the counter, hand held over his mouth as tears welled in his eyes. The look of a proud parent splayed across his face all the same as he watched the family have their celebratory moment.

“I… I did it.” Sam’s voice was but a whisper as he spoke his future into existence; earning himself the widest smile he had ever seen on old man Lenny’s face.

“That’s my boy. I told you you had a bright one on your hands.” Lenny cooed, nodding his head in the Kiszka’s direction. Karen laughed, making her way over to where the older gentleman stood.

“We can’t take all the credit, he’s been pestering you for years. You’ve helped keep him on track too!”

Sam’s going away party was one for the books. From the embarrassing photos his mother strung up on the ends of streamers to the piñata that Josh claimed he just ‘had to have’ full of his favorite nips, he could feel just how loved he truly was.

He found himself lost in thought, swirling the drink he held in his hand as he watched his brothers fight over whose turn it was to whack the piñata. Soft giggles emitting from his chest as his mom made her way over to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. She pressed a soft kiss to his temple, running her hand over the length of his arm and he rested his head against her shoulder.

“Lenny’s in the house if you want to go say hi. He’s not feeling too great so I don’t think he’s staying long.” Karen cooed, trying to hide the look of concern in her eyes. Sam perked up, holding his cup out to his mom as he turned on his heel and headed towards the house.

“We’re gonna have to tell him, you know. Len’s not gonna break that boys heart.” Kelly cooed, sidling up behind Karen. She nodded her head sadly, watching through the kitchen window as Sam embraced the older man, throwing his head back in a fit of laughter as Lenny slammed a six pack down on the counter top.

“Not today, we can’t break his spirit. He won’t want to leave if he knows Lenny might not be here when he gets back.” Karen’s eyes welled with tears as she thought of the news Lenny delivered upon entering the house. Stage two lung cancer - there was only so much that could be done.

“He’ll hate us more if he comes home to find Lenny’s no longer with us and no one told him.” A sigh slipped past Karen’s lips as what her husband said sunk in.

~*~*~

Four years.

Sam had been out of state for four years, with the occasional trip back home to see his parents. He had learned the hard way that college was no joke, having almost failed out of his first year because he wasn’t sure just how to juggle the work load.

“I don’t know how much more I have in me, Lenny. Graduations in two months I’m almost there but, it’s tough out here. But I’m gonna come home this weekend to see you and mom and dad.” Sam sighed, pacing the length of his dorm room. Lenny chuckled on the other end, taking a deep breath as oxygen pumped it way through the cannula.

“Don’t say that, you’re the brightest star I know. We’ll be watching you cross that stage in no time.” Lenny fought the cough that bubbled in his chest - not wanting Sam to know he was sick.

“I know but this is hard, I’ve fought so much and if this last essay takes me out I’m done I won’t be graduating and there’s no way I’m retaking this class. I’ll just be drop out Kiszka.” Lenny chuckled at Sam’s outburst, causing the cough he was fighting to sneak out, the wheezing in his chest too much for him.

“If we have any say you won’t be drop out Kiszka. I may be old but I can still give you a what for, Samuel. But this old man has to jet, it’s past my bedtime.” Sam glanced at the watch that adored his wrist.

“Yeah I guess is it late for an old geezer like you, huh? I’ll see you think weekend though, okay? I love you Leonard.” Sam chuckled, the soft I love you sent down the line raising goosebumps on his skin as the line went dead. That was the last time Sam would ever speak to old man Lenny.

The weekend came and gone, the essay he was stressing over keeping him holed up in his dorm room rather than catching his already booked plane back home. A quick call to his mom late Friday afternoon breaking the news to her and telling her to let Lenny know he’d make sure to see him soon.

Karen hung up with Sam and turned to her husband, tears welling in her eyes as her heart shattered in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Sam that Lenny had passed during the week, a sudden cardiac arrest taking the elderly man in his sleep. Kelly shook his head, slowly making his way over to where his wife stood and wrapped his arms around her.

“He’s gonna wonder why Lenny isn’t at his graduation. We have to tell him before then.” Karen shook her head, a sob escaping her chest as she melted into her husbands embrace.

“He’ll want to come home. It’s almost finals week, he can’t forfeit his education now.” A sigh slipped past Kelly’s lips and he pressed a soft kiss to his wife’s head.

“He’s gonna hate us.”

~*~*~

Sam shook with nerves as he sat with his graduating college class in the buildings cafeteria. His eyes roamed the seats behind his class of twenty-five, looking eagerly for the three adults he knew would be watching with tearful eyes. But he heart sank in his chest as his eyes landed on his parents and eldest brothers, old man Lenny nowhere in sight. Sam plastered a smile on his face as he waved to his parents and brother, not wanting them to know he was upset.

He walked the stage quickly, shaking the hand of the person handing out the diplomas and held the certificate high in the air, a theatrical bow taken before making his way off of the stage. He wasted no time in making his way over to his family, pulling his mother into a bone crushing hug.

“Congratulations baby.” Karen cooed, wrapping her arms around Sam’s mid section as her boy now towered over her. He reached out to fist bump Josh and Jake, never letting go of his mom.

“I made the Dean’s List too! I tried to call Lenny earlier cause I thought he’d be with you so I could just tell you all but, he didn’t answer.” Sam shrugged, pulling back to open the diploma he held in his hand.

“He’s not feeling too hot, but he sends his love.” Jake was quick on his feet, clapping a hand down on Sam’s shoulder. The younger boy nodded, awe etched on his face as he started down at his Bachelor of Science in Business Administration certificate.

“Hopefully he’s back on his feet by the time I get home. I can’t wait to show him this. I did it guys. We did it.” Sam was beaming as the realization that his hard work had fully paid off set in.

Karen met Jake’s gaze, a sigh of relief slipping past her lips at the boys quick thinking. She knew she had to tell Sam soon, but the thought of breaking his heart hurt her more than letting it be for the time being.

~*~*~

Jake knew he was going to have to be the one to break the news to Sam.

His parents flat out refused, even with him now fully finished with his schooling. They wanted him to enjoy the rest of his time out of state, knowing his heart would be shattered the moment the words slipped past their lips.

Jake spoke to his mom late one night, telling her he was going to be the one to help Sam move out, saving his parents the long trip he knew they despised. Karen had shaken her head vehemently, protesting that she and her husband had to be the ones to pick Sam up, to shelter him just a little more before he found out the news on his own.

“That’s fucked up, you can’t just let him skate down to Lenny’s thinking he’s gonna find the old man only to be met with his obituary taped up on the window or them cleaning it out to rent the space. Do you know how traumatizing and damaging that would be?! I had to LIE TO HIM at his graduation, you don’t think he’s gonna be mad at me too?! I’ll pick him up, I’ll talk to him and I’ll be the one to take him to Lenny’s to pay his respects. I don’t understand what’s WRONG WITH YOU AND DAD!”

Jake’s voice rose higher than it ever had, reverberating off of the walls as the pent up anger released itself all on his poor unsuspecting mother. She hung her head, tears welling in her eyes as her heart shattered, not only because her son had just screamed at her, but because her youngest was about to walk right into the biggest heartbreak of his young life. Karen nodded as she kept her eyes trained on her feet, not wanting to make eye contact with the fuming man that stood before her. His chest heaved as he stalked away from his mother, the wild shaking of his head solidifying the way he felt about the situation at hand.

The soft sound of knuckles against his door shook him from his thoughts, causing the boy to spin where he stood. His older brother stood in the doorway, shoulder leaned up against the door jamb as he took in Jakes disheveled appearance. A sigh slipped past Josh’s lips as he made his way into his brothers bedroom, reaching his arms out to embrace Jake. Jakes reserve broke as he wrapped his arms around Josh, pulling a deep breath in through his nose.

“They’re not going to tell him. They’re literally going to let him find out himself. We can’t let that happen.” Jakes voice shook as he buried his face in the crook of Josh’s neck, just the thought of Sam’s heart shattering too much for him.

The death of a loved one was a hard subject to approach. Especially when the death of a loved one wasn’t something Sam had ever fully experienced. They had been fortunate enough to coast through life never losing anyone close enough to them to feel the impact. The loss of Lenny was going to cut deep, the pain and heartbreak it would cause Sam not something Jake was fully ready to endure.

He ran through different ways to word it as he boarded his flight, knowing there was only a matter of hours left before he was face to face with his baby brother. Timing would be everything when breaking the news to Sam, and Jake had no idea when the right time would be.

~*~*~

Jake expected the confusion that played across Sam’s face as he opened the door to his nearly empty dorm room to find his brother standing there. Jake plastered a fake smile on his lips as he opened his arms and embraced his brother.

“Where’s mom?” Sam was curious, pushing the door open just enough for Jake to sneak through as he turned on his heel to finish packing his luggage.

“Work stuff came up, she asked me to come instead, are you almost ready?” Jake clapped, rubbing his hands together as he glanced around the empty dorm room. Sam nodded, pointing at one last tote bag sat in the corner of his room.

“Be careful with that one, it’s a bunch of new records I got on adventures out here. I think Len’s gonna be impressed with some of the titles I got my hands on. Old bastards been looking for a few Blue Oyster Cult pressings I finally managed to find for a decent price.”

A silent sigh slipped past Jake’s nose as he felt his heart break more for his baby brother. He still hadn’t found the words to lessen the pain of the news he had taken upon himself to deliver. Hot tears began to prickle the backs of his eyes as he turned away, knowing that his expression would betray him.

“How is Len? Last time I talked to mom she told me he wasn’t feeling too well. Something about a chest infection? I don’t remember.”

Jake took a deep breath, slowly blowing it out before turning to face Sam. He remained with his back turned to Jake, quickly stuffing the last of his beloved band t-shirts into the last suitcase. The older boy took a step forward, closing the distance between them and placed a gentle hand against Sam’s shoulder.

“I… I’m so sorry, Sammy.” The younger boy tensed at the sound of his name. The nickname only slipping past his brothers lips once before. Sam turned to face Jake, eyes wide with concern as he took in the expression on his brothers face.

“Lenny’s okay, right?” Sam steeled himself, bracing his heart for the impact of what Jake was about to say. A sigh slipped past Jakes lips as he shook his head solemnly and reached up to place his other hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Sammy, so so fucking sorry. Lenny… Lenny passed away.” Jakes breath caught in his throat as he watched his little brother process the information he was just given. Sam opened his mouth to speak, his eyes darting everywhere but Jakes face as his heart shattered.

“No, you’re lying. I JUST talked to him before graduation. When?” Sam couldn’t form full thoughts, his mind reeling.

“The weekend you were supposed to come visit. He died overnight in his sleep that Wednesday. Lenny had lung cancer Sam, not an infection. Mom didn’t know how to tell you and you know the old bastard Lenny himself wasn’t going to tell you. He didn’t want to interfere with your schooling, he wanted you to get your degree Sammy, he was so fucking proud of you. You hear me? He was so fucking proud. He wanted nothing more than to be at your graduation with mom and dad.”

Hot tears spilled down Jakes cheeks as Sam collapsed against him. Loud sobs emitted from the younger boys chest as he fully understood the words that slipped past Jakes lips. His best friend, his right hand man gone. Jake wrapped his arms around Sam, rocking the boy from side to side. Sam’s grip on Jake tightened as his knees began to give way, his body fully overwhelmed with the sensations running through it.

“Cmon buddy, sit, please. Before you take us both out.” Jake nudged him in the direction of the twin size bed, letting go of his brother just enough for him to bend at the knees and sit on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t understand.” Sam reached up, running his hands down his face as fresh tears welled up in his eyes.

“He was sick, Sammy. He was sick for so long and he refused to tell you. He wouldn’t even let on there was anything wrong. No one wanted to hurt you, we knew getting into Harvard was everything to you and old man Lenny wouldn’t let us tell you. He thought you’d drop out and come home if you knew. He… he thought he’d be okay but an undiagnosed complication happened and took him from us. I’m sorry this is the way you’re finding out.”

Sam sighed, his upset quickly turning to anger as the weight of what he was just told sunk in. Curling his hand into a fist he brought it up and slammed it down against his thigh, needing to feel anything other than the sorrow that ate at his heart.

“You all lied to me. You told me he was okay. When he wouldn’t answer the phone I’d call mom and she’d tell me he as fine just under the weather. YOU LIED AT MY GRADUATION! Right to my fucking face. You fucking lied to me.”

~*~*~

Sam was mad at the world, at Lenny for leaving him, and most of all at his family for not telling him. Though he understood the intentions behind it he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that they had hid this from him. He slammed his way into their childhood home, storming up the stairs to his room as Jake emptied the car of his belongings.

The ride from the airport had been silent, not a single from uttered from either boy as Josh tried his hardest to smooth over the rough edges. Sam had sat in the back seat, without even so much of an utterance of ‘shot gun’; AirPods shoved into both ears as he focused his attention out the window. Josh had known right away that the conversation hadn’t gone well, somber looks gracing both of his younger brothers expressions.

He reached back towards Sam, placing a reassuring hand against his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. Sam eyed Josh carefully, knowing full well he was just as guilty of not telling him what was going on. Josh bit his bottom lip, nodding his head as he retracted his hand and turned to face Jake.

“He’s pissed at all of us, isn’t he?” Josh mumbled, catching sight of Sam’s side profile in the rear view mirror. Jake nodded solemnly, bringing his hand to his face and began to nibble on the skin around his nails.

“He’s mad we all lied to him and that he wasn’t told Lenny was sick. He wants nothing to do with mom and dad either. I’m gonna have you swing by Lenny’s really quick just so he can see the obituary. I’ll bring him back later once he’s gotten some rest.”

Josh nodded gently, quickly throwing the car into drive and took off away from the airport.

He wanted nothing to do with his older brother trying to get him out of the car. Pulling up in front of Lenny’s was the last thing Sam had wanted to do. He didn’t think he had the strength to walk up to that door knowing it was locked and not a single soul would be beyond the door.

A picture of Lenny had been posted up on the inside of the picture window. Signed poster boards and prayer candles sat against the side of the building, a way many were paying their respects. A sigh slipped past Sam’s lips as he saw the memorial sight, slowly pulling himself out of the car and made his way over to the window.

“The fuck, you weren’t supposed to leave me, old man.” Sam chuckled, his eyes landing on the now faded newspaper clipping taped up next to Lenny’s photo. The obituary was short and sweet with a brief overview of the mans life, how he had become ill and that he was survived by two sons and an adopted son. Tears welled in Sam’s eyes as they skimmed over his own name.

“What’s gonna happen now, Leonard? You’ve abandoned your shop - our shop. Who’s gonna take care of her?!” Sam joked, his voice barely above a whisper as he started up at the elderly man. Reaching up he pressed his fingers to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the skin before lifting his hand and pressing it against the glass.

He nodded once more before turning on his heel and came face to face with Jake. His older brother held his arm out, snaking it around Sam’s shoulders as he pulled the younger boy into his embrace. A shaky breath slipped past Sam’s lips as he composed himself, reaching up to press his fingers against his eyes, trying to squeeze out any left over tears - he couldn’t let Josh see him cry.

“We’ll come back when Mike’s around. He knows you want to go in at least once more before they fully gut the place. Let’s get home.” Sam nodded, pulling back from his brothers embrace and slid back into the backseat of the car.

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @puzzle-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @vanfleeter @twistedmelodies @miguelnation @gracev0609 @runwayblues @sparrowofthedawnsworld

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka angst #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x oc

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hoodoo12 · 1 year

Text

Jobby

Seeing the tour sparked an idea . . .

NSFW, mostly PWP. Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn x gen neutral reader! Established throuple.

Both the Bman and Dewey are Collette-flavored.

Enjoy!

You’d gotten used to lots of loud noises in the apartment: guitar (played pretty well), drums (played poorly but with enthusiasm), video games of mostly the first-person shooter type, and the occasional “discussions” that were “passionate.” And snoring. All of that was a typical day in a household with a rocker who had a part time job as a teacher and a ghost who had a full time job (he said) as a bio-exorcist.

You had no idea what a bio-exorcist’s job actually entailed, since Beetlejuice mostly seemed to hang out at Dewey’s place.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Silence in the apartment didn’t necessarily mean peaceful, especially if the two of them were giving each other the old passive-aggressive ignoring each other like they were five year olds throwing a combined tantrum.

It could mean Dewey was asleep and Beetlejuice was leaving him alone, however. So instead of calling for either of them, you moved quietly from the door down the hallway, where it opened up into the living room.

Dewey was on the couch but most definitely not sleeping. On the floor in front of him, on his knees, kneeled the ghost. While Beetlejuice had discarded his jacket and his suspenders had been pushed off his shoulders, every other piece of his standard ensemble was present. Dewey’s t-shirt, however, was rucked high on his chest, all the way up to his collar bones. Even from across the room you could tell his nipples had had attention; they were darker than normal and still pebbled. His pants were turned inside out with his underwear caught inside; all of that mass of clothing happened to still be attached to one ankle.

Neither noticed you spying. Eyes closed, Dewey’s head tipped back to the cushion behind him. His free hand splayed on his own bare thigh, his fingers leaving indents in the flesh; the other had threaded into the mess of Beetlejuice’s hair. Beetlejuice himself had both arms under Dewey’s thighs, wrapped around his legs, hoisting his hips slightly upward. It was a position designed to give him better access; you knew that because the specter had wrapped you up in the same hold when he used his mouth on you. Dewey had managed to lift one leg over Beetlejuice’s shoulder. From past experience you also knew that was a common trick Dewey did to keep his lover close while being sucked off.

Soft wet sounds matched the smooth bobbing of Beetlejuice’s head. Dewey matched them with moans, a combination that could have been obscenely lewd if the two of them weren’t so obviously enjoying themselves.

To see Dewey, someone who hid his low self-esteem with a sour-grapes mentality like he didn’t actually care, simply allowing this to happen was a big step. Typically he’d insist on something mutual; his self-worth could be tied to making sure he gave, even if giving went against his own wants and needs. For him to sit back and relish the attention made you smile.

Minutely, Dewey relaxed. His hand gave a little push downward on Beetlejuice’s head, and the specter began blowing him again.

And for Beetlejuice, as crude and as demanding as the ghost could be, for him to be so attentive without immediate satisfaction was a big step forward too. From the flush that had bloomed on Dewey’s chest, he’d been going down on him for a while, not a speedy wham-bam-thank-you-man-now-it’s-my-turn kind of ambush. Slow and deliberate, his head moved steadily and you could only imagine the amount of spit that pooled under Dewey’s legs. At least they put a blanket down first.

It wasn’t often sex in the household was a twosome. Even if it started between just two, the third party would be welcomed in. You found that being able to watch, however, gave you vicarious arousal in the pit of your stomach. To see the Dewey and Beetlejuice so soft, so intimate, was a special treat. Even if your hand did wander down between your legs.

Dewey gasped a little louder and dropped his head. “Oh, I-I’m gonna come!” he said in a strained voice.

Beetlejuice paused at the top of his motion, giving Dewey a moment to collect himself. Although you were across the room, you knew the feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, seconds away from ejaculation. You knew that even though he stopped, Beetlejuice couldn’t hold completely still; his tongue was most likely flicking the head of the cock between his lips. You didn’t know if Dewey was so far gone that minor licking stimulation would be enough to send him over the edge--

fin--

You wasted the opportunity to step back, out of sight, during those seconds. Since you’d held your breath in anticipation and didn’t, when Dewey opened his eyes he saw you standing there.

Instead of acting embarrassed or ashamed they’d be caught, he stretched out the hand not tangled in Beetlejuice’s hair to you. Quickly, you crossed the room and settled beside him on the couch. Your arousal increased as though the carnal activity of the two of them fed you.

Beetlejuice’s eyes had been closed too, but at the shifting of the cushions he lifted them to yours. His typically smokey blue eyes were almost completely eclipsed by his pupils, showcasing his own lust as well. If you turned to look at Dewey, you knew his eyes would look the same. You’d marveled before how their eyes matched. But you couldn’t draw your gaze away from Beetlejuice; his lips formed a perfect seal around Dewey’s cock and, as you’d expected, his lower jaw and Dewey’s pubic hair were shiny and soaked with excess spit. As the specter continued with his eyes locked on yours, his cheeks hollowed and relaxed during various parts of his up-and-down cycle.

“He looks so good, sucking you off,” you said, reaching forward to push your hand through the the rat’s nest that was Beetlejuice’s hair as well.

“Mmm-hmm,” Dewey agreed. Apparently those four stuttered words he’d uttered were the last he could string together.

Beetlejuice hummed too. You’d have expected him to throw his voice or switch to a hand--not one holding Dewey’s legs, of course! Just a third hand from out of wherever!--on Dewey’s cock so he could answer you properly. He didn’t. For him to be so intently focused at the task at hand, er, in mouth made you smile at the two of them again.

You hadn’t meant to interrupt and didn’t want to distract. Still, you put your head down on Dewey’s chest, your ear over his heart, and watched. Beetlejuice didn’t drop his gaze, keeping it firmly on yours even as his pace increased. With Dewey’s heart rate matching the suck and pull at his cock, even though literally nothing was happening to you the sound in your ear and the ghost’s direct stare made your lower stomach and groin tingle. You wouldn’t have ever thought you had a voyeuristic bent, but you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

This time when Dewey announced he was going to come, Beetlejuice didn’t stop. Finally breaking eye contact with you, he took Dewey all the way to his balls and held there. If you’d had your hand under his jaw you were sure you’d have felt him still moving his tongue against the cock buried in his mouth, but you stayed as still as the other two.

After a moment when everything was completely still, Dewey groaned loudly as every muscle tensed. Beetlejuice remained frozen, you didn’t move, both of you allowing Dewey to enjoy his orgasm to the fullest. Only after he began to relax again did the specter gently back off his cock.

Shiny and throbbing in time with his heartbeat, Dewey’s cock fell back to his dripping pubic hair. Knowing he could be extra sensitive after he came, you made a mental note to get up to retrieve a tissue in a moment. Before then, you moved your hand from the side of Beetlejuice’s head and brought your fingers down along his jawline. It was slick with spit.

Beetlejuice grinned and kissed your palm, then made a show of wiping his beard in your hand.

“Gimme a kiss, baby? For a job well done?”

You leaned forward to give him his reward. Just before your lips met his, however, he said,

“I meant Dewey. But you’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him anyway, dipping your tongue between his lips to savor the earthy flavor combination of him and Dewey mixed together.

“I bet Dewey’ll kiss you if you get a Kleenex,” you suggested.

Beetlejuice sighed, “I have to do everything around here,” but there was no irritation behind it. He pushed away from the couch and went to find a box.

Splayed and mostly undressed, Dewey hadn’t opened his eyes yet. His cock had started becoming softer, with a thin line of post-climax come oozing from the tip.

“Gonna take a nap, Finn?”

“Sounds good,” he murmured.

“Well, clean up first and then you can snooze. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

Sleepily he asked, “Is it my birthday?”

“Nope. Just happy Dewey Finn day.”

He cracked open his eyelids just enough to see you, smiled and nodded.

nope

(that would be the end, except Beetlejuice overheard the whole, “happy Dewey Finn day” and shouts from the other room, “What about me?!” So you agree to take care of his “needs”--which is always the same thing, a little suck, a little fuck, a little desperate discussion as to if he should come inside you or on you--while Dewey naps. Then later in the evening, both of them ambush you and give you the best spiritual rogering you’ve ever had.)

#Beetlejuice #Dewey Finn #Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn #Beetlejuice x reader #Dewey Finn x reader #Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn x reader #School of Rock #writing #fanfiction

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years

Text

What lies within

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Reader

Regency AU

Female Reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Warnings: Your mother has successfully trapped you and Lord Simpson. She's evil.

The duke returns after years overseas. He has no intention of marrying. However, your father has leverage over him and you find yourself trapped.

Can love be found in the Iceman’s heart, or are you destined to be lonely forever?

Word count: 1.3k

Chapter Eight - The trap

♡♡♡

Your mother ignored all questioning after Lord Simpson’s hasty exit. You apologised to your hosts, apologised to the duke, and apologised to Carole for the early exit. Your mother continued to ignore your questioning on the carriage ride home.

When you reached home, she entered the house without a word and disappeared into your father’s office. You and Carole were promptly shut outside the office. In a huff, you headed upstairs. Carole followed closely behind.

Bob had heard the commotion and poked his head out of his room. He saw you go into yours and followed Carole in there.

You turned on your heel sharply and faced your siblings, but mostly looking at Carole as she was there with you.

“What is going on?” You ask.

“I don’t know,” she replies, looking worried.

“What happened?” Bob asks, looking between you both.

“Mother said something to Lord Simpson which made him leave this afternoon. I don’t know what was said. I was with the duke, Carole chaperoning with Lord Bradshaw. He left quite quickly, but I caught up to him when the lady’s darling dog wouldn’t let him go any further. He looked.... sorrowful. He told me if I was his daughter, he would have saved me from this household years ago. I do not understand what has happened,” you say, looking just as concerned as your sister.

“How far do you think mother is willing to go for money?” Carole asks.

“As far as she can. Money is an evil influence on those who hunger for it,” you say. You sit down on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “I'm afraid,” you whisper.

Bob comes up beside you and pulls you into his side. Carole sits opposite you on her bed, reaching over to take your hands in hers.

Nothing of the matter is spoken about for the rest of the day, but the following morning your mother has a smile on her face which you detest. Worse so, your father seems to be in higher spirits as well, but he does not smile the way your mother does. No, he has more determination in his eyes as he looks at you.

You sit down with your siblings, not really feeling up to breakfast. The nerves in your stomach concern you that nothing would stay down if you tried.

The knock on the door frightened you as you jumped in your seat.

Never before has your mother moved from her chair so quickly before. Your father stands, staring you down. You can hear your mother from the hall talking to whoever was at the door.

Dread makes a familiar return as your mother comes in, and then you’re left at a loss when Lord Simpson enters.

He doesn’t meet your eyes. His lips are pulled down into a frown.

Something is wrong.

“Mother?” You question her.

“Within the month after your sister’s wedding, you will marry Lord Simpson,” she states, a cruel smile on her face as she looks at you. “If you so much as make a fuss about this arrangement, I will send an anonymous tip to the paper stating Lord Simpson and you had been seen without a chaperone. You were seen together... in a compromising position.”

“Mother!”

“Dear?” Your father sound shocked. Clearly, he didn’t know everything she was up to.

“Lord Simpson has money. That how he can afford his generous donations. You will be looked after, and you like him, do you not?” Your mother asks, glaring at you.

“Not like that, mother... Lord Simpson has always been dear to us, he is our friend. Does he know half of his donations go to father to waste away on gambling?” You say, standing up from the table.

Lord Simpson looks up at you and then at your mother.

“That money is for the children,” he says.

“That money is for us to as we see fit,” you mother states. “It is always about the children, with you,” she hisses.

“They are nothing like their mother, and for that I am grateful.”

You stare at them. There is something here. Something you’re missing. You have never seen your mother look at him with so much hatred before.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask your mother.

She turns to you with a grin.

“It’s quite a clever ploy, you see. Marry Lord Simpson and he is trapped with us through you. We’ll have money, you’ll be with someone you like, you can have our comfortable life. That’s a win-win. The other outcome, the duke, upon hearing about your engagement, steps up and asks for your hand. You become a duchess, our social standing raises, we have money. We don’t lose,” she says.

“Mother, you cannot. The duke will not. I am no one to him,” you tell her.

“So, you marry Lord Simpson. We still come out on top. Though the duke is preferable, I will be quite happy keeping Lord Simpson in the family,” she says, looking at him again.

“Why are you bringing him into this? He has been nothing but kind to us!”

“If he had married me all those years ago, it wouldn’t have mattered now. I couldn’t have him, but you can.”

“Mother?” You look at her, and then at Beau.

“He left to go serve his country. He never wrote back to me. He never came to see when he returned home. I married your father to my duty. This is his punishment for leaving me behind.”

You look at the pair of them.

Lord Simpson looks up at you.

“I only came back when you three came into the picture. How could someone like your mother have such wonderful children? I swore to watch over your three as you grew. My donations were for you three. Your wicked mother seems to always lie to me,” Lord Simpson says, looking back at her.

“You should have married me,” she says.

He shakes his head.

“I would never have married you. You have been nothing but manipulative since we met. I saw right through you. Serving my country just gave me an easy escape,” he told her.

Your mother is fuming.

“How dare you? I was good to you!”

“Good? Never. Cruel. Always.”

“Mother? How could you?”

It’s a double ended trap. Trap Simpson into your family or trap you with the duke for your mother’s benefit.

“You will announce your engagement at the next ball, or I’ll talk,” your mother says.

You look at Lord Simpson with pity.

“I’ll do it,” you say, unable to hold back how you’re really feeling. The hurt, the sorrow. “I’ll do it,” you try to stop the tears from falling.

Beau looks up at you in shock.

“If there was any other way,” he said, looking at you with a pain filled gaze.

“I know. I know. But I will not let my mother walk all over you. You have been kind to us. To me. The duke will never fall for her trick. I don’t want to tarnish your name with false rumours.”

“You are far too kind,” he smiles slightly.

“You win mother. You win,” you say before leaving the room.

Your mother grins and turns to Lord Simpson.

“This isn’t over. This is just the beginning. Hold up your end of the bargain, yes?”

Lord Simpson glares at your mother.

“Karma comes around, you know? Do not think you will get away with this,” he says. “Greed is an ugly monster, and you are showing your true colours.”

Your mother grins.

“I know. It’s what make so good.”

Lord Simpson leaves quickly.

Carole and Bob sit at the table unsure what to do. They didn’t know exactly what just happened, but Bob was worried about you. He leaves the table quickly and goes after you.

You’ve left the house.

Carole wants to go to, but she is stopped by your mother.

“Your wedding is approaching. We need to prepare,” she says, staring down her daughter.

This day wasn’t going the way you wanted it to.

♡♡♡

@mrsjaderogers - @cycbaby - @callsignscupcake - @itzyogurl92 - @capricorn-anon - @mischief-siriusly-managed - @breadsquash - @starlit-epiphany - @some-lovely-day - @nyx2021 - @airlinewaifu - @deadratio - @maverooster - @luckyladycreator2 - @beaner-life-23 - @ducks118 - @persephonesportal - @ginghampearlsnsweettea - @bella-law - @sweet-yoongles - @theghostofshadows - @acupnoodle - @asteria33 - @desert-fern - @mackycat11 - @abaker74 - @everlyseresinsblog - @callsignthirsty -

#iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #iceman #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky #top gun #top gun au #au #alternate universe #what lies within

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cellarfulofnose · 7 months

Text

tonight i'll be stayin' here with you

@smallsnzplz prompt #4. I once had a girl (or, should I say, she once had me)...

1961

The Bitter End wasn't crowded. Alice came there to get away from the throngs that steamed up the cafés. There was music sometimes. Not all the time. If anyone got up to play, the whole place settled into curious silence for a while, then went back to their books. There weren't any world-shaking acts that got up to play there. As far as she'd ever seen.

These days Alice thought she was about tired of stars. If someone got up to play their guitar and sing in front of everybody, as far as Alice was concerned, it better be to buy a bed for the night. Or a mouthful of soup. That was the only reason she wrote. People came to Greenwich thinking it was Hollywood.

It was Bohemia. They didn't last long.

The boy who'd been sitting near her creaked to his feet and slung a guitar strap over his shoulder. It'd been a while since anybody had been on stage—and it wasn't even a stage, really. Just a milk stool and a microphone. But Alice couldn't stir herself to feel annoyed, not even as he yoked a harmonica brace over his neck. A little music wouldn't go amiss right now. She didn't peer too close, but he looked like a busker. He wouldn't take up too much of her time.

He introduced himself to the room with a voice like a tin can, and she had to look.

Under his too-big newsboy cap, Alice's eyes flew to the first thing she always noticed on a man. His nose. It was like none she'd ever seen. At once rounded and sharp, long and slim with a lovely down-curve. It looked almost too smart on his soft cherub face, and he looked like he knew it. There was a tightness to his light eyes. Bleared and weighed down by that jewel of a nose. And he sang right through it. Rang like hollow wood.

She couldn't look away.

The café glanced at him when he got up, then returned to their books. When he began to sing, some heads turned back in surprise. But now he was a couple songs deep and they were really listening. Alice let her coffee go cold.

He stayed a little longer than he maybe should've. Though he wasn't a regular, Alice thought the boy could tell he had this place's attention in a way they didn't usually give it. Certainly, he had hers. But his set ended, as all sets do, and he ambled back to his seat. Nearer hers than she remembered. His hat, full of coins, jangled like a tambourine as he set it on the table. A heavy sound. He'd done well. A hot shower was in his future tonight.

His hand slipped inside his coat and fumbled for something. Alice didn't allow herself to imagine—when he pulled out a red bandana and cupped it to his nose, a bright leap of shock caught her. He blew his nose earnestly, easing his head side to side for good measure. She was close enough that she heard a small hum in his voice, a sigh of effort, like that soft sound took some serious doing. She didn't even try not to stare.

Too careless. The boy locked onto her gaze as he emerged and blinked self-consciously. He sniffed—his nose twitched. Alice was transfixed. As the red bandana disappeared, the tip of his nose remained pink. His eyes, too, even. He looked half-dead of the flu, poor boy.

Alice was in love with him. She bought him a hot bowl of soup.

---

1966

The boy slipped her grasp—she didn't mind. Others came and went.

Seasons changed. Soon enough, the name Bob Dylan, household around these neighborhoods, met the face from her memory and became one.

And what a face it was. He'd grown into his nose by now, his brow and cheeks and chin so arrowhead-sharp you'd cut your hand to slap him.

Alice wanted to cut her hand. She paid for a show or two, but when they became too expensive, she figured out how to let herself in. She talked her way out of a ticket for trespassing. The crew came to know her by face, if not by name, and that suited her fine. She talked her way in with the girls that seemed at home in his dressing room. What's he like? Then she saw for herself.

They'd always usher her out just as the show ended. One day they must have figured her half-hearted protests weren't worth the trouble. There she stayed—and there he was.

"Who's the chick?" asked Bob.

It was several minutes after he opened the door that he deigned to acknowledge anyone in the room. But Albert was quick.

"She said she knew you."

Bob exhaled smoke as he regarded her. Three soft jets through his mouth and nostrils. "Knew me?" He squinted suspiciously—or maybe he was just nearsighted. But the more he looked at her...

Alice gave him the coy once-over she'd seen the other girls do. Different men, but she had a hard time believing they were that nuanced. She smiled, barely.

"Oh...right." Comprehension dawned on Bob's pale, peaked face. His eyes wandered over her. A smile cracked his lips. He hid it with another pull on his cigarette. "Well, why didn't you say so?" he added, with a glance at Albert.

"You know her?"

"Yeah, oh, yeah." Bob's eyes crinkled with the lie. He didn't recognize her from the Bitter End. No chance. But he knew exactly who she was. Her own mischief reflected back at her in his eyes. She would make an honest man of him.

"Yeah, I know 'er. Yeah, we just, uh." Bob was next to her now. Alice didn't rise from the couch, hardly rose her head to look at him from under her lashes. "Haven't had a lot of time to catch up." Bob seemed to stall for a moment, then stroked her cheek with the side of one finger. Asking.

Alice's eyes fluttered shut. She wasn't acting.

His finger hooked under her chin, and she opened her eyes to look him in the face. He seemed keen enough to take her right there, in front of God and everybody. She almost didn't protest.

Somehow, they got into a car with all their clothes on. The second the door shut, Bob went straight for her breasts. Alice struggled to pull the divider shut, then covered his hands with hers. He muttered 'S your name, anyway? in between kissing the life out of her, and once she caught her breath, she told him. Twice. His short-term memory seemed to be on the fritz.

Perhaps it was contagious. Alice nearly forgot why she was there, until he buried his nose against her neck in the elevator and her chest roared with butterflies. He nuzzled and hummed and she probably could've stayed there for a week, but he felt slightly cold and wet on her skin, and she just had to drag him up for another kiss.

They stumbled backward together, the hall—the door—the bed. She made herself pull away from his mouth, his hands, and went for her purse. Bob was all questions.

"Hey, c'mon," he needled. "What're you...Hey, I ain't gonna give you nothing." Bob pivoted, seeming to think she was hunting for a condom. "What're you looking for?"

Instead of answering, Alice pulled the round tin from an inner pocket and unscrewed the lid. Menthol filled the air. As she lifted out a healthy, thimble-sized deposit and began to arrange it across the metal tray on the nightstand, she felt Bob appear over her shoulder. She pretended not to notice.

"Hey, gimme some of that. What is that?"

A strange order in which to ask those questions, she thought. His misfortune and none of her own. "It's pretty strong," she warned, truthfully.

Bob scoffed.

"You might not like it." Alice continued to shape neat little piles.

"Bullshit." When she didn't react, "Aw, baby, c'mon. I'm hip." His chin rested on her shoulder. A dog begging for leftovers under the kitchen table. "Let me have some of that."

Alice kept her smile small. "Suit yourself."

Bob didn't wait. He vanquished the first pile in one great, rushing snort. "What is this, some kinda..." The next two took a few tries each. Diminishing returns.

"Herbal remedy." Alice blushed.

"Oh, that's–" Bob coughed, sharp, from his throat. Snuff! The tray was clean, save for a few specks. "That's cute." He finished pawing at his nose with a final, sweeping sniff. There was a moment of oceanic calm behind his frosty eyes.

Before, "Ow, fuckin'—shit—" Bob cringed like he'd suffered a jab to the eye. His hand flew to his nose.

"Are you all right?" Alice dared to ask.

"It's so—" Bob lost the end of his sentence to a shuddering cough. Then his lungs started to fill in short gasps. Again he gasped, again, again, again, and Alice felt her stomach drop with each one, felt her heart dive, until the line snapped.

He sneezed over the bed, half-blocked by his arm. It almost sounded offended.

"God b–"

Right away, he wrenched another gasp and buckled with an even stronger sneeze.

Alice jumped. The fingers he'd clamped around his nose did nothing to dampen the sudden, cutting sound. She felt herself blush and heat. "Bless you."

Bob sputtered out an urgent sneeze—managed a surprisingly coherent Thankyou, trembled with the coming gasp—and sneezed so wretchedly he let himself drop onto the bed. He still held his nose between his fingers. To keep from quitting the powder, she could only imagine. He wouldn't want to sneeze it out before it got him high.

"Thin walls," Alice warned, on an impulse.

Bob nodded immediately, even as the obvious need to sneeze began to snatch his breath again. His shoulders shook—Alice expected a sound, and there wasn't one, and her stomach flipped over like she'd missed a step on the stairs. He bought it. He was smothering himself into silence on the off-chance someone would hear him through the walls, assume illicit substances, and whip up a drug bust. God.

He did it again—sneezed next to silently. But it seemed to backfire. Once he started, they just kept coming. He was twitching, shuddering, trying not to breathe in or out for fear of letting one slip, until a shaking gasp broke his hold and he couldn't stop the next sneeze from hissing out through his teeth.

"Oh." Alice felt her ears go red.

Or the next, from rupturing out of him with a kick from his chest, loud and violent.

"Bless you." Waves pounded inside Alice's ears. She touched his back tenderly, and her vision swam. "Darling."

Bob groaned. Alice didn't have time to react before his curly head swung into her shoulder. He leaned limp against her, sniffling and sighing with exhausted relief. She cradled his crown and wove through his hair.

She tried to drop her smirk as he finally surfaced, but her cheeks bloomed to see his face. His eyes were flame blue against weeping red. Even his lips seemed reddened, like after a good strong cry. Or a sound kiss.

The powder had nearly worked its way out. To the untrained eye, it looked as if he'd rubbed dirt just under his nose. Above his lip. Alice thought about lending her handkerchief, but his hand appeared to swipe it away—well, to try. Now it just looked like more dirt.

"Mm." Bob's smile was tight, and his eyes darted slightly. Not ashamed, but slightly shy. He sniffled against the block in his head. "So, uh. When's it start kickin' in?"

Alice couldn't help it. She laughed. She hurried to cover her mouth, but Bob wore a sheepish grin, seeming to suspect a joke at his expense.

"Oh, okay. What?"

"What?" She smoothed her face and played coy. "You didn't get enough that time?"

"Well, shit, I don't know. I was hopin' it'd give me a little pep or something." Bob's eyes were watering again, and he looked slightly disturbed. "Made me..." his breath skipped, "sne—sneeze." He recovered in time, but wavered on the edge long enough for Alice to feel the earth move.

He looked a little disappointed that it hadn't come, even. As he glanced up at her in the midst of rubbing his nose, his expression turned distinctly suspicious. "Lookin' at me like that," he murmured, still unable to keep from smiling despite himself.

"You're teasing me."

"I'm teasing—" Bob shook his head, pushing through his disbelief. If anyone was being teased here, his expression seemed to say, it was him. "You want me to sneeze? That'd do it for you?"

Alice shifted. "You didn't seem to mind it so much yourself."

Bob snickered, then laughed again softly as it dawned on him that she was serious. "No, I guess it didn't feel too bad."

"You loved it," Alice accused.

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Maybe you oughta let me try some more..."

Bob reached for the canister, but Alice drew back, just an inch. Bob looked utterly confounded.

"I would," she quickly explained. "Only—"

"Aw, don't be like that."

"No, I would, really..." Bob had started cupping her cheek, her chin, to plead with her. It didn't make speaking easy. "It's just. Like I said, it's an herbal remedy."

"Yeah?" Bob wasn't convinced.

"For colds." Alice tried her best to look concerned. "What if I get sick?"

"Aw, come on, I'm not gonna get you sick." Bob was brushing her hair behind her ears now.

"Yes—" Alice fairly gasped, " well...I'm afraid I just can't spare it..." Managing to disguise her effort, she reached to replace the canister in her purse.

"Hey. Now, you don't want that." Bob held her wrist. There was no power in his grip, but she froze. "You want me to sneeze some more." He sniffed dangerously, roughly—trying to stir up another one? "I know that. Don't put that away." All this he punctuated by stroking her cheek, letting his overlong nails graze her skin, set her face awash with sparks.

Alice opened her mouth to speak. And swallowed. "Well. Maybe if you're very, very good..."

"Mm, good, baby." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, next to his hand.

"...you can have some more later." She replaced the canister and snapped her purse shut.

This was enough to make Bob draw back. He looked bewildered, but he still couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "I'm teasin' you, huh?"

"Kiss me."

Bob's mouth twitched into a wider smile, every moment looking like he might say something, but he only sniffled and leaned in for a kiss.

Alice sighed. He was a wonder to touch. His kisses were ambitious but sincere, and he gasped through their mouths when he couldn't get a breath in his nose. She let him wrap his small frame around her, even as she grew dizzy from all the blood pooling at her center. When she cupped him through his cords, he whined appreciatively and sank his teeth into her lip. She squeaked.

A minute later, though, Bob detached—as she suspected he might. He looked unsure.

"Something wrong?" she panted.

He pawed at his nose. "Don't ask me that like you don't know." Sniff. "I still got a tickle in my nose. I want to—" He sniffed again, looking distracted.

"Do you?" A question to the statement he'd finished, and the one he hadn't.

Bob's ears seemed to perk up. His eyes were wet but focused. "I've been good to you, mama," he ventured. "Haven't I?" An innocent, almost boyish glint of hope.

Alice smiled. She leaned in close. Bob parted his lips, awaiting her kiss. She was pressed against him.

She inclined her head and stuck out her arm, reaching not for a kiss, but for the box of tissues on the nightstand.

As Alice pulled back, purchase in hand, Bob made a sound like a kettle about to boil over. He was champing at the bit—perhaps literally, she thought as she watched his jaw work.

She threw him a line. "There's another way." She plucked a tissue and tried to make quick work of it, twisting from the corner, through her practiced fingertips. "And this way doesn't sting so bad."

"You're—oh." Bob reached down and winced as he gave himself a slightly painful adjustment. "Yeah, I've seen that."

Alice looked up. "Seen what?"

"The, the tissue thing." Bob performed a twisting gesture, a strikingly perfect pantomime of this particular instrument's use.

Oh?

Alice gnawed her lip and looked back down. "Really? Where?"

Bob laughed. "It was John, he showed me. Beatle John, you know him. John."

Alice's heart leapt into her throat. After '61, when she'd given up on the sickly busker from the Bitter End, there was a period...John Lennon. 1963. He had a statue's face. An emperor's profile. She'd wanted nothing more. That nose. And he liked to play around with...and he'd done it in front of Bob...

"He did it to me." Bob gestured again. This time, there was a flick of devilry in it. He knew he had her listening rapt. "Couple a' times, but I got it now. Here, let me do it." He held out his hand.

"Did he really." Alice's heart had plunged from her throat into her stomach. She was breathing harder now, sweating. She didn't hand over the tissue.

Bob giggled, as if he were just seeing the humor in it. "Yeah. Well, I had this bad cold, he was just helping me to, uh." He laughed. "Kinda makes you think, huh? Kinda makes you wonder." He snorted—laughing had knocked something loose. "What he was really after."

"Um..." Alice was panting. "Come here."

Bob saw her brandish the tissue and obligingly stuck his nose out. Very, very good.

She held him by the jaw. He didn't shave too close; his cheeks prickled her fingers. From this distance, she could pick out a few blemishes against his pale skin. Beautiful, she thought. She stuck the wicked point of the tissue just inside his left nostril. And left it there.

Bob rippled with irritation, his face contorting as he fought the urge to snort it out. He twitched his head side-to-side, chasing the bare minimum friction. "You–you gotta—"

"Did you like it?"

Alice barely knew she was going to ask before the question slipped breathlessly past. "When John..."

"Yeah...yeah, I liked it." Bob's voice was light, floaty. He wore a slight frown, his eyes half-shut. His furrowed brow smoothed when he smiled. "I love to sneeze. Feels too good not to. And this cold—" He made a sound of pain and coughed. Alice had wiggled the tool, just a little bit. Just back and forth.

"Go on."

"Um." Bob shut his eyes tight, causing a few teardrops to roll down his right cheek. "I don't remember...what I was—" Now she twitched it again, and kept going, in small pulses, and he couldn't speak through it. His nostrils flared out. His mouth lazed open.

A sharp gasp of warning. Alice stopped. At the very same time, Bob took hold of her thigh. Her jaw dropped to match his. He wavered, fragile as glass. Her skin was on fire.

When it was clear he wouldn't sneeze, Bob surrendered with a light groan. He shook his head, freeing himself from the tool, and glared at her. It was enough to send a chill down her spine.

"What'd you stop for?" he demanded. And sniffled.

"Thought that'd be enough." Her lie ended in a gasp that was nearly a yelp as he gave her thigh a squeeze and slid his hand higher.

"No, you gotta move it around more, get it all the way up there. I'll show ya. Hey." Bob drew her to him with a hand at her back. "Baby, let me show you." Still stroking her thigh. Her blood burned.

Alice swallowed heavily. "You think it's easy with you distracting me?"

"Mm-mm. Don't know what you're talkin' about, babe." He was so close to her that his breath danced over her neck, cooling then warming her. Then she felt his lips. His nose.

Alice forced herself to pull back, certain she'd shatter if she didn't. Wordlessly, she raised the tissue between them. Bob grinned his victory and stuck his nose out.

The first tiny brush of movement had him coughing and staining his cheeks with tears. She wasn't merely teasing now. He was so profoundly affected that, for a while, he didn't try to utter a word.

In an instant, the pitch of his breathing changed. He stammered something that, if allowed to finish, might have been Oh, shit or Oh, Jesus. Instead, he started to sneeze...only to bottle it up into a quiet tremor. He snatched another quick breath and sneezed openly this time, thin and sharp as a willow switch. His hands had been wandering all around her—there was nothing to cover his mouth except her.

"Bless you." Alice could've melted metal.

Bob mopped at his lips and nose with the cuff of his sleeve. He sniffled—a strong effort, but not much got through—and sighed. "Thank you. Thank you, did I get you?" The timbre of his voice had changed to something dull and froggy.

Alice laughed breathlessly and wiped at her face, the front of her blouse. "I'll live."

Bob didn't react except to lean in like he was going to kiss her. But he ground to a halt partway there, dropped his eyes, cleared his throat.

His hand rose above the tops of her stockings.

"Hello." The breath pushed out of her. Bob didn't slow. He followed her smooth skin under her skirt to the hem of her underwear, traced the lace border. Alice's hips moved without her meaning to. She almost wished he wouldn't touch her—she was a swollen mess, he'd know with one touch how depraved she was—but he did. Dead center. She felt the fabric stick. He tested her with a fingertip, and her small shame was engulfed by want. She burned for him to touch her. He must have felt her heartbeat.

Bob let out a faint breath of surprise. "Weren't kiddin', were you?" His glacier eyes locked on hers for a moment, then fell. He felt along her seam with the pads of two fingers, further in, further down.

Alice gasped. She felt sweat and tears gather in her head, fire in her belly. "Bobby." She'd heard her call him that—Joan. The poor woman must have been used to all this. Able to keep her head at times like these. She wouldn't be whimpering, quivering...not from one lousy touch. Not from a couple of sneezes.

"Yeah?" Bob moved in nearer to her. His lips were at her ear. "You want me t'..." He asked with his hand, fine and careful strokes. Alice squirmed.

"Babe—" Bob's voice came out as a rattle. He cleared his throat as gently as he was able, but this close to Alice's ear, it was a rumble. He sniffed. "Baby, you wanna do it to me again?"

Alice drew silent breaths through her open mouth. If she answered she'd break.

"I know you liked it." His mouth twitched on her cheek—a smile. "I like...seein' how you get. Shit..." He was talking so slowly, rubbing her so carefully, Alice had a moment of panic. She couldn't hold out. She twitched away from his hand.

Bob must have thought her hips had bucked of their own accord. He chased her sidestep and stroked her lovingly. "I want to," he added. And sniffled, light and wet.

"Yes." Alice heaved a heartbreaking sigh. She felt the lights of the world dim, felt her heart race. She held his wrist firmly. Bob stopped, and Alice wanted to cry when he did. Her body hurt with want. She ignored the screaming ache and recovered the tissue, fallen on the bedspread.

His hand retreated from her skirt and came to rest on her knee. She saw his fingers and thumb rub together, probably unconsciously, feeling her traces on them.

"Gonna let me do it?"

Just to spite the smug expression on Bob's face, Alice shook her head no.

Bob rolled his eyes, pretending great offense, but he assumed his ready position all the same.

His haughty expression barely flickered when she began to tease at the right side of his nose. He looked defiant, and only more so when the tickle forced him to cringe and weep. This time, he seemed oddly stiff. His cough was like a clenched fist.

"G'nna—"

He was whispering something.

"...Gonna—gonna s-snee—hz...!"

Consciously or not, Bob tightened his grip on her knee as he neared the tipping point. His brow was tightly knit, eyes closed; he couldn't even see her flounder on the spot.

It took one more refrain for Alice to realize he was chanting Not gonna sneeze. Which, judging by his gulping breaths and the way his nose twitched, didn't sound like the truth.

"Oh, really?" Alice lessened her effort slightly. "How do you figure that?"

Bob spent a long while fighting off a sneeze, his breath coming in great bounding gasps, until at last he let out a shuddering sigh of defeat. "Maybe..." He gathered his strength with a heavy sniff and trudged onward. "Maybe I don't want to." He didn't even sound like he had convinced himself.

Alice must have let her disbelief show on her face, because Bob glared at her through his tears and croaked, "Hey, don't slow down."

She let him have it.

Bob winced, then coughed, then swore. He gave little struggling sounds with each breath—coming faster and faster now. Alice's heart was skipping beats. He looked ready to...well.

His hand suddenly slipped in next to hers; to drive her away, she thought. But he just pressed the very edge of a finger under his nose. He wasn't in her way, but still, she tutted. "Cheat."

Bob huffed, perhaps meant to be a laugh or a snappish reply. It only succeeded in chasing away the sneeze that threatened. He groaned.

Heedless of his cheating finger, Alice moved to stick the tissue in his other nostril. As soon as she slipped free, though, Bob made a sound of protest. He shook his head like a dog drying itself off. "Don' stop," he wheezed.

Interested, Alice held back. "I thought you didn't want to."

"I'm tryin' not to, but it feels..."

Alice cried out to feel his hand between her legs again. Too shocked and too hot to even form his name. With clumsy fingers, he felt for lace and drew her soaked cotton to the side.

"You're so wet."

"Fuck, that's..." Alice slapped a hand over her mouth. He traced her cunt, slick and swelling and aching tightly. Her clit. Just a fingertip, but she saw stars. She panted for breath, making the room spin.

"Yeah. C'mon, baby."

Alice had no wherewithal to protest when Bob took hold of her hand and used it to jab the tissue up his left nostril. They both gasped and whined.

"Sorry, honey..." He was moving her hand too, in frantic little circles. He had his own technique. "Can't wait, I can't stand it—" he coughed, "god—!"

He wasn't touching her as faithfully as he had been, but it didn't matter; Alice was trembling. A whisper of a touch would finish her.

Bob exhaled vocally, heaved a sharp gasp—again and again, he dragged her over jagged ups and downs—then he sneezed! They came crashing out on top of each other, three in the space of one, tossing his hair, shaking the bed. As if he were so desperate to let them free, he couldn't wait for one to end before the next began.

It wasn't the triple-sneeze that did her in. It was how he quaked once he'd let go of it. An audible, hair-raising shudder. It was a filthy fucking sound, and Alice quickly followed it, coming on his hand, barely touched, rocking with need.

"Oh," Bob sighed, groaned. "Look at you, you're so fuckin' pretty. Yeah, hey. Baby, god..."

Alice chased his praises with mewling moans. She couldn't summon speech. When her throat dried out, her breath came in fluttery sighs.

He kept petting her even after she was done coming. Lightly, as if to soothe himself. She swallowed, tried to catch her breath. "Bobby," she said, her head on his shoulder.

"Honey, wait just a minute."

Alice started when Bob's hand disappeared and he shifted away. She lacked the breath to ask him what was wrong, but as the haze cleared, she saw him unroll the tissue and press it to his face. He was sniffling.

"My nose." His hands were prayerful, perfectly elegant, almost delicate when they folded the tissue to his nose. "I gotta—"

He shrank like a violet as he blew with force. The sound was thick, awful. But productive. He grunted in apology and tried again, a few times more, until his breath came clear and a small nest of discarded tissues had gathered on the bed.

"Poor dear." Alice knew it was wrong to say, but she couldn't control her tongue. This elfin wisp of a man had somehow grown into an even bigger charity case than the soft-faced train-hopper she'd watched in the café that time. It was starting to get her hot all over again.

Bob wasn't offended—he positively blossomed. Put his face next to hers and let their bodies line up. He still had goosebumps from the sneezing. Alice could see on his neck; on his wrists where they poked out of his sleeves. "You gonna take care a' me?" he nuzzled, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Alice sweltered. She rubbed over the shape of his cock, still trapped in his slacks, felt him pulse and stir and almost whine. "You've been awfully good for me," she said, not answering.

Bob seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open and his mouth shut. He rolled into her touch, helpless to his own needs. "How...how good?" he managed.

Alice put her lips on his ear. "Very, very good."

"Yeah?" His shaking hand covered hers and made her touch him harder, more deliberately. He was hard as a statue, even just from this, and she could feel his blood beat under his skin and clothes. Beat, she thought, does that make me a poet?

Her answer was a kiss. Bob swore freely into her mouth, but his words survived only as tangled moans.

His lips pulled apart from hers a moment. "Wanna...Can I?"

Alice glowed. "Yeah."

At once, his hands were on his zipper. She heard a little sigh of relief once he freed himself from his restraints. Alice started to lean down to admire him, but he was already clambering behind her to work on her skirt. She pulled her blouse over her head.

Many hands made light work. Alice was down to her underthings when Bob said, "Here, gimme the shit."

He was reaching for her purse.

Alice swiveled her head around to get a look at his face, then back to her purse, before she parsed his meaning. "You want—are you sure?"

"I won't take it all," Bob said quickly, shaking his head. "Swear. Just a little bit." He'd started to breathe a little heavy. Could be something to do with his fist around his cock, giving short, rapid tugs.

Alice sat there burning, looking him over, then dove for the jar. With shaking hands, she carefully wrested the lid and held the contents out to him. She feared a spill...but then, she wasn't desperately afraid.

Bob reached out, then stalled. His hand froze. He looked pained, then he stuck out a finger as if bidding her to wait.

Alice trembled. She knew this face by now.

Sure enough, Bob started to inhale. He wedged the back of his hand across his mouth, convulsed once—and held still.

There was so little sound, Alice couldn't tell if he'd squashed it down or simply quelled it before it could materialize.

Bob dropped his hand and let his breath out. "The smell," he explained softly, grinning with shy surprise.

Already? she wanted to say. Maybe you've been over-served. But what slipped out instead was "Bless you." A soft whine. He wasn't the only one over-sensitized, woefully unprepared.

"Thank you," he purred. His voice was getting away from him again. He wriggled Alice's underwear down around her knees, and she grit her teeth to keep from gasping.

Alice's eyes went wide when she saw the incredible handful he'd procured from the tin. A tower of powder. She screwed the lid back on and practically threw the thing away to balance herself with both hands on the bed.

Bob caught her eye and chuckled. "Hold still," he instructed, and piled the powder on the table-top plane of her ass.

Alice heaved a gasp and swore when his nose crashed into her soft skin. Over his snorting and huffing, she could hear wet sounds in time with the trembling of the bed. He was touching himself again, building to speed.

He brought his hand down in a slap, and she squealed, but he was only brushing her off, carelessly swiping away the specks he couldn't suck up, leaving them to settle in the sheets, in the creases of his hand. Alice bit her tongue and whimpered.

Bob coughed gently, then again with spite. "Fuck." His voice went raw in the middle of it; she could hear his throat try to close against the intrusive spice. He took careful breaths.

"You nice and ready for me?" he rasped.

"Yes—yes. Yes." Alice started to answer, but his hand appeared between her legs to check for himself, and soon that was the only word she knew.

He coughed again. "Jesus, baby, you're so—" A worried gasp and a frantic sneeze cut him off.

Alice lurched. It was so sudden, the spray across her back.

Bob grabbed her waist and sputtered out another sneeze, showering her again. "So w—wet–!" he gasped, his voice sailing above his speaking range as he fought what was coming.

He drew a sharp breath, and then no more, and Alice almost believed he had lost it before the sneeze came, abruptly and violently, painting her back.

Alice leaned into the mattress and moaned. She couldn't even...

"Bless me." Bob's voice was dulled, wrecked by his symptoms, but she could hear his smile in it. "God, Jesus fuck, feels...good..." As his breath started to skip, she felt the head of his cock press against her. Without thinking, she reached down, found his hand, guided him in, and they locked together.

"Oh." Bob moaned, heavy with surprise. He pressed into her all he could, squeezed her hips for more leverage. "You feel..." He might have went on, but he was panting heavily, vocally, exerted by sex and wild from the tickle in his nose. He sneezed once, twice in a row and gave a shaking groan before he started to fuck her in earnest. Alice wailed into the sheets. She though she'd hit her peak before, that he couldn't rile her back up again, but this. She was light-headed, dizzy. Helpless.

Bob drove into her, practically singing with pleasure, and started sneezing again. The sneezes came close together, in soft summer-rain whispers and fine mist. They made his body and his voice shake badly. He sucked air like he was drowning and sneezed like he couldn't breathe. Alice loosened her hips and took it, and took it, and bit the sheets and yowled.

As Bob wound up for another, his movements grew stiff. His hips jerked. His breath tumbled in and out, high and loud until he was whimpering, and still it wouldn't come.

"Ah, god," he sobbed, and came like a wave breaking.

Alice's eyes slammed shut as another orgasm shattered through her and she clenched around him. The room, the world seemed to wink out like a star. They cried out to each other until they lost their breath and fell together. Alice waited, curled around him, for her heartbeat to quiet and her ears to quit ringing.

Before that happened, Bob sat up to catch a short, sharp bark of a sneeze in his steepled hands. He let out a mild groan.

"Bless you." It was only too easy.

Bob sniffled and rubbed his forehead. He didn't lie back down. "Don' think there's any more."

Alice rose next to him and filled his hands with tissues.

He flashed her a sheepish grin of thanks, and she drug her nails up and down his back as he cleared out his nose. He'd kept all his clothes on, just undone his slacks. But when she scratched his arms, a shiver tore through him, and she imagined his hair raising all across his body.

Bob made a noise of distress when he spared a glance at the contents of his tissue. It wasn't blood, Alice assured him, just rusty powder. He blew his nose until nothing more would come, but his head was still stuffed. She told him it'd likely stay that way for a while, a day at most.

"Need a cigarette," was his response.

"It'll mess with your throat," Alice offered, knowing it wouldn't sway him.

"No, no, it'll clear my head. Hey, you got a...?"

Alice lit his cigarette and shook out the match. She marveled at his sharp, flushed face, finer and more handsome in catarrh and tears than most were in health. Her hand wandered up the back of his shirt to scratch between his shoulder blades. Sure enough—goosebumps.

"Do you remember the Bitter End coffeehouse?" she asked.

---

Epilogue

What Alice failed to mention was how, after the congestion had gone, the medicated stuff would linger in his sinuses. How his head would drip like a faucet from the time he woke up. How bad the shifting, the draining, and the dripping would tickle. Sometimes it only drove his eyes to water, but more often, it made him sneeze. Throughout the day, there was no telling when it would come. Mornings were almost a guarantee. Things had settled during the night, and suddenly going vertical always made this interesting. It wasn't unlike the first few days of a cold.

Another small detail that Alice seemed to miss was that her particular interest was dangerously, fatally contagious.

He'd always found pleasure in the release provided by sneezing. The relief. He'd step outside on a sunny day and half-scorch his eyes staring at the bright sky, just for the chance to feel something spark and catch and prickle into an itchy sneeze. Two if he was lucky—and he usually was.

It must have been some form of classical conditioning. Ever since he'd messed around with that girl, all he had to do was sneeze once, and it wasn't relief he would feel, but heart-pounding arousal. Quick as a light. And ever since his tryst, they were coming in bunches.

In the dressing room before a show, Bob threw a hand over his mouth and started to sneeze. The first two came out muffled, like he'd tried to hold them in, but the third burst out of him, throwing his head forward.

He shuddered audibly, sounding as if someone had walked over his grave.

Robbie frowned. "You cold?" he asked after a while.

Bob sniffled. "Hm?"

Robbie echoed the shiver, letting his teeth chatter and his shoulders shake. "What's all that for?"

"What, I can't sneeze?"

"Aw, forget it." Robbie went back to the newspaper, accompanied by the gentle sounds of Bob sniffling and occasionally clearing his throat.

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jackiequick · 10 months

Text

— A trip to New Mexico, how fun right? Well, sorta! | Marvel Phase 1 FanFic

Timeline: Set during Iron Man 2 and in between Thor

Summary: Coulson was assigned to go see what the hell was happening in New Mexico and decided he might need, more like want, some assistance and who better to keep watch of the town than a blast from the past SHIELD agent?

Pairing: Coulson & Underwood, Darcy Lewis & Jason Underwood and etc.

Established uncle & nephew relationship: Tony Stark & Jason Underwood

Characters/mentioned: Clint Barton, Rei Stark, Jane Foster, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff and etc.

Click here if you like to read the previous fic

—//—

The day was young and the sun was still shining among the city across Miami into the Stark Mansion. Pepper was off at Stark Industries with Natalie Rushman, who’s real name is Natasha Romanoff, meanwhile Jason took care of the business around the household. It’s been rather hectic lately so someone at least needed to make sure no one starved and everything was well taken care of.

He thanked god his grandnephew, Rei Stark, beautiful mother was taking care of the boy this week. Because then, they would have another mystery on their hands with how curious that child can secretly be.

He was answering a few questions about a financial calls in the living room and flipping across channels on the TV that involves news about the latest Stark Expo, stuff involving Dr. Bruce Banner, The Feltons daily news and information about The Strange Family son, Leonard Strange.

As well as a small crisis forming in New Mexico appeared on various news channels. He rolled his eyes knowing S.H.I.E.L.D. was probably getting word of it already and coming to—

Suddenly the floor started rumbling loudly underneath his feet and the other things started shaking. He quickly turned over to catch a lamp that almost tipped over and crashed.

His eyes widen and shouted into the phone, “I’ll have to call you back, Laura!”

He swiftly made his way down the stairs to see the basement turned open floor lab was being destroyed. And in the middle of it stood his only nephew holding back a jackhammer as AC/DC blasted into the headphones he was wearing. So he wasn’t actually listening or notice him standing there.

“HEY! BOB THE BUILDER CUT IT OUT!” Jason shouted stumbling through the rubble, deeply crackled opened walls and dirty floors that surrounded them.

If his eyes couldn’t widen even more, his eyes darted down to the 1970 model of Stark Expo he helped design decades ago laying on the ground. The model that both Stark siblings, were discussing on becoming something evolutionary different for the world. He wasn’t as smart as them to understand everything they studied and created but he understood it was far too important to not model the idea.

He reached forward lace his fingers crossed the model and questioned, “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?” Repiled the A.I.

“What is this? I mean, what is he building?”

“It’s to be believed Mr. Stark has discovered a New Element and is determined to use it to power his suit for a greater timeframe.”

“A new element? Damn. Alright, turn the music off.”

JARVIS did what was told as he unwired Tony’s music as the brunette genius shouted confused and insulted by the actions. Until his eyes fell on his uncle with a nod, “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replied removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re creating a new element, i see.”

“Yup! After 20 years, dad is still taking me to school and I’m surprised I’ve haven’t seen it sooner.”

“Because it wasn’t time for you figure it out eariler. Need help?”

“Seriously?”

“You ruined my floor.”

“That’s means your helping!”

“But your cleaning up afterwards.”

“Damn it.”

The two got to work, opening walls, expanding wires, lengthened the tunnels across the room. Tony coined it ‘hardware mood’, using his hands to create the lengthy contraction instead of his machinery. ‘Going old school’ as Jason liked to call it, pulling apart drilling into the tunnels and adding placements to the sections.

It placed looked insanely messy but you knew where everything is.

By the time, Tony was drilling in something the door to the basement opened as Agent Phil Coulson walked in saying, “I heard you broke the perimeter.”

“Uh, yeah that was 3 years ago, where you’ve been?” Tony replied, walking over to the tunnels and vents they built.

“Doing some stuff.”

“Yeah well, me too and it worked.”

Both men chatted, as Tony wondered around the room grabbing items as Coulson picked up a half built Shield that could’ve belong to Captain America. That was when Jason stepped into the picture returning with another box of tools, cables and basic hardware.

The blonde smirked snatching up the item, showing it to Tony who’s face light up, having Coulson help them put the Shield underneath the tunnels to level it. Perfectly leveled.

“I’m busy, what you want?” Tony said, receiving a light slap on the arm from Jason due to the attitude he gave Coulson, “Ow!”

Coulson held back a small chuckled, “Goodbye. I’ve been reassigned, director Fury wants me in New Mexico.”

“Fantastic. Land of enchantment.”

“Or so I’m told.”

Jason spoke up, “The small crisis in New Mexico, involving the decency sized craters with a hammer smacked in the middle of it?”

“Good, your informed.” Coulson added with a half smile.

“I saw the news.”

“I would like you to come, Stark seems to be handling things here perfectly well.”

“Yeahhh. Nope! I’m retired.”

“Never too late to jump back in the game.”

“And I’m busy.”

Tony gave his uncle a look to go do it and get out of the house, that he can handle everything from here. He weighted his options, not wanting to leave his house unsupervised and tired of going deep into SHIELD missions, he rather likes retirement.

“I don’t know, man. Again, I’ve been retired for more than 15 freaking years.” Jason exclaimed.

Coulson thought for a moment, he really wanted to have company for a couple of days and said, “You only need to scout the town and see what’s happening.”

“Undercover work?”

“Yes. Only for 4 days, i promise than you can come back.”

“2 days. I’m only doing simple work, let me remind you that i rather not mess with the others there.”

“Fine by me. Waiting for you in the car.”

Tony giggled at the speechless face his uncle made. It was priceless! He told him to go ahead with Coulson for a few short days, he promised he won’t reck the house, hopefully. Plus he knew the man had a suitcase still packed from their trip to France upstairs.

He sent a playful glare to his nephew, grabbing his things and met Phil outside.

The man drove them to New Mexico, taking stops to stretch their legs and eat on the way there. Both men chatted to keep the time at ease, having respect for one another and actually enjoying the company. Phil Coulson wasn’t a half bad, but that doesn’t mean he won’t heist to tease him.

“So, how’s the thing with May going?” Jason let out ever so causal, sipping a bottle of water.

Phil blinked hearing him and awkwardly blushed, “I—i-how did you know that?”

“I heard of the story that you were on a undercover mission with her and a few interactions were made.”

“It was completely professional.”

“Oh, so taking 2 minutes to unhook her bra was professional?”

“There were cameras! I was trying to sell that we were together.”

Jason snickered, “Oh yeah according to her, you sold it.”

“That was an act for the camera!” Coulson added trying to defend himself, “So you and May talk, huh?”

“Quite a bit. Her emails about you are hilarious.”

“Remind me to call her later. And i will have you know, I was being a gentleman.”

“Oh yeah, of course Phil. You were committed.”

“I think i did alright. You think i was committed?”

“Your one of a kind, Coulson. Don’t ever change.”

The rest of the ride meant a few jokes here and there, stopping for snack break and bringing up movies along with latest shows on TV. There were a few mishaps and things that needed to be taken care of during their stops.

They arrived soon enough to New Mexico, as an SHIELD base was already being formed around the outsets of the town nearby the crater that held the hammer. The moment they exist the car, Jason slid down darting to examine the hammer in awe. Plenty of people tried surrounding and lifting the metallic gray block from the ground but it didn’t seem to budge at all.

“Wow..” muttered Jason, giving a once over to Phil who snapped pictures.

The carvings were immaculate, the lining was framed perfectly, the engraved symbols were placed in a fitting manner. The hammer looked one of a kind. Magical. Ungodly amount of time and effort was made into making it. Jason must admit he gave credit to the people who shaped such a glorified item.

Hell, the man stepped over looping the brown handled into his grip trying to lift it himself. He grunted and huffed, taking a couple of breaths trying his mightiest to lift the god damn hammer. But nothing! It didn’t even bother to slightly budge for him. He sighed, releasing the grip of the handle and stomped up to the previous stop he want in.

“Anything?” Coulson asked, humoring his attempt to lift the hammer.

“Nope.” He replied, huffing and massaging his grip, “That thing is stuck!”

“Yikes. Here’s the deal, your gonna get a change on clothes then scout the town.”

“How about you? Gonna try and lift it yourself?”

“Haha! No, I’m handling a few pressing matters and help set up the base of operations.”

Jason nodded walking back to the car, he seemed out of breath from trying to lift the god damn hammer. It was super glued to the ground, not even trucks and machines with horsepower could even remove it from the ground.

He found himself a nicely fresh change of causal clothes. Being a brown jacket with a olive green t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of his favorite classic sneaker. Along with a pair of simple sunglasses that were gifted by Pepper last Christmas. He carried his old school SHIELD ID, walkie-talkie and a handheld gun in his pocket. Just in case.

The man wondered around town, taking notice of the simplicity of it all. The houses, buildings, stores that held the items needed to built a good foundation, a general grocery store, a diner that held the delicious smell of pies, a bar and plenty of other places to visit. It made him smile. He liked it a lot, especially since the afternoon sun shinned just right above the cloud, giving the waves a cozy breath of fresh air.

He enjoyed it.

He walked around, entertaining himself at a coffee shop nearby the gas station. He was waiting in line, reading the signs on the wall and giving small nods to older folk or pregnant women who walked past him, letting them go in front of him. He wasn’t in a hurry to get out or anything, his job was the scout the town and see what type of people they’re dealing with.

And so far? Everyone seemed to be general folk living their day to day lives, working 9-5 meanwhile the teenagers and children were out at school or something.

Everything was going good until he was accidentally bumped into by someone.

He didn’t see the person, only what dropped on the floor next to his feet. A older brunette doll, that was wearing a purple dress, a white lab coat, strapless heels and a ponytail. Alongside a pair of sunglasses on the doll. Looked more like an cool action figure than a doll, designed by wonderfully crafty people.

Little did he know that the young girl who this doll belonged to would be important to him later on. As well as the mother.

He chuckled as his eyes darted up to the person, “Hey sweetheart, I believe this is yours?”

The young girl turned around, her red skirt bouncing in the wind from the movement she was making and fixing her crafty jacket a bit, pushing up her bangs to face the man. Her big brown eyes were covered by square frames. Along with adorable dimples.

“Ohh? Oh! I’m sorry mister..” She repiled shyly with a smile, and gently taking the doll from him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t want to lose her, she’s smart.” He replied with a smile.

“Yeah my doll is a scientist! She’s love coffee, dresses in purple and uh, stuff.

“Hahaha. That’s amazing, um sweetie?

“Hmm?”

“Sorry to ask, but um where’s your mama?”

“Uh, she’s getting extra coffee from her and a few friends.”

“And she left you alone?”

“I’m not that’s little, you know. I’m 15–16!…ish, very soon.”

“Child. You’re still a child.”

“I’m almost 16, sir.! Sorry for shouting.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright.”

He was just about to ask her name when..

“Mew Mew!”

Came a voice, sounding it belonged a women. She ran up to them, holding a box of donuts and a two cups of coffee. The women seemed to a short brunette with long curls, a beanie that bounced with her every step and glasses. She was pretty! Her features matched the young girl perfectly, it made him smile knowing that her mother returned quickly.

“Mew Mew, i told you to stay put, sweetie.” Said the mother with a smile pushing up her glasses, sounding sweetly protective of the girl.

“I’m sorry, i had to throw out my trash mom.” Apologized the young girl.

“At least tell me where you’re going next time. This place is sorta crowded. You almost gave me a huge fright!”

“I’m sorry. I will tell you next time. But I’m okay! I promise!”

The brunette noticed the man and said, “I’m so sorry about her! She just ran off and i had no idea what happened..i hope she wasn’t too much trouble or anything.”

That was when Jason spoke up with a politic tone replying, “Oh no! It’s completely alright, you know how kid—I mean, teens are. Just be lucky, it was me who found her and not some other guy.”

“You have kids? I mean no offense, your like a young and tall bachelor.”

He chuckled, “That i know of, I have one. He’s at home with family.”

“You’re new around here, huh?” She questioned with a smile.

“It’s obvious isn’t it?”

“YUP! I mean the jacket means your suitable and out of town, no offense.”

“None taken. I’m just here for two days, I needed some rest from a long trip.”

She smiled, “Well you pick a odd place to stop. Oh well, welcome to New Mexico. I’m Darcy and you already met Mew Mew.”

“Melissa!” Cut in the young girl, with a grin.

Jason nodded with a small laugh and decided to use a nickname of his, “Nice to meet both of you. I’m JJ.”

“JJ, huh?” Darcy challenge with a smile, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll find out my real name later, if your lucky.”

“Well i like it! It’s cute. Oh I’m sorry again for taking up your time.”

“It’s okay, doll. No one was breaking any bylaws or anything. You seem like your in a hurry as well?”

“Oh yes! Meeting up a fews friends of mine for breakfast and stuff. Oh shit, we’re running late. Thanks again, JJ!”

“No problem! Be careful and stay safe out there.”

The women walked away with a smile, glancing back at him thinking about something as her daughter waved at the man. He chuckled, waving goodbye to the pair noticing he was finally next in line and made a quiet order. He thanked the sweet barista with a charming smile, who giggled softly at his politeness, as he made his way around town.

His thought went back to the women he met earlier, Darcy, and her grinning daughter. They seemed like kind folk, but a part of him felt like he seen something in Darcy’s face before. Like he met a version of her in the past. Maybe her mother or an older sister? He didn’t know what it was, but he felt calm and a bit like himself around her aura.

He smiled.

Moments like that made him feel good. He has seen and met plenty of faces beforehand in his life. People on missions, dates he was dragged into going on, parties he danced at, walks in the park and just faces that made him feel a sense of déjà vu. A charming old feeling, per say.

As he scout the town, he scanned the area and the people, when suddenly he heard it. A loud banging tune. A righteous voice that could sent a smile to any man or women who met them. His face whipped around to hiding across the corner of a store, noticing the group.

A short light haired brunette with a beauty mark, an older man dressed in a patterned shirt and a tall blonde wearing a brownish jacket. And next to them stood Darcy, along with her daughter. But his eyes bounced back to the voice.

The mannerisms of the blonde haired man held such strong attitude towards the others around him. Tall and muscular like he was meant to do business with someone. The voice was righteously kind and oddly enough to seem like he lost his footing. His young facial features made him look like he was sculpture by…

A god.

Jason smirked. Pulling out his phone, he called Coulson, simply saying, “I think I found your sources, Phil…”

——

He returned back to the base of operations.

It was jarring scurrying up the step, having not been in a SHIELD makeshift office for more or less 15 years. Practically 20 years! A heat wave hit him. The man would’ve shivered at the thoughts and memories that had the option to wash over him.

He snapped back towards Coulson watching the man work, watching scanners and scouts shouting loudly across the room. He even noticed a blonde man dressed in black in the corner, tightening his arrowheads giving him a small nod, acknowledging him.

“Phil. We have your guy.” Jason spoke with a clear voice, catching the people in the room’s attention.

He explains to Coulson to try getting into contact with a Dr. Jane Foster and her little group of misfits, collecting as much information they can. Coulson was impressed by hearing this, already on the same page before he showed up finding information about Dr. Foster, calling orders to everyone who was in the area.

Jason nodded, about to walk out when somebody tossed a gun at him. He caught it and examined the weapon. A position for a sharp shooter.

“Hey—wait, no! Coulson, we had a deal. I ain’t doing this. I did the light work you asked for.” Yelled out the blonde following the agent across the halls.

“Yeah well, I had other plans. I figured you’ll like to get a front row seat on the action, high up.” Coulson said, with a small smile, “If he shows up.”

“Whatever you plan on doing, you better keep an eye on them and make sure no harm comes to them. Their group had a child with them.”

“Relax Wood—”

“Underwood.”

“Sorry, Underwood. I won’t harm anyone, we just need to speak to that one guy. I promise we’ll try to play it safe, but we don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

“You’re window with me will be closing very soon, Coulson. So make it quick, then I’m out.”

“Crystal clear, Underwood. But I do have a question, why did you come?”

He blinked and just shrugged, he really didn’t know the true answer to that question. He thought about it, trying to word it in his mind the best he can, leaving out a few details for himself.

“Because my nephew wanted me out of the house..and I-I had no other choice but to make sure SHIELD that knows what they’re doing…I’ve seen the records and it’s utter chaos.” He answered softly.

Coulson nodded and pressed, “We’re trying to fix it as we go along, I promise. Why did you retire? You know either way, it won’t last. You will always have a part of you that wants to come back to this..I mean look at your life now.”

Jason didn’t answer him this time, just walked away with a grip on the rifle. He knew the plenty of reasons why he retired and honestly he enjoyed retirement, hoping to get this job done. But it won’t say most of it out loud himself.

———

This time, we was perched on a high level outside with the archer he saw earlier. Clint Barton.

The man wasn’t half bad. Snarky, has a murder stare he can appreciate, very knowledgeable about stuff and honestly a pretty chill guy. Along with a bit grumpy due to the rain.

In the New Mexico, it was raining again. The last two days have on and off again rain with sun and wind. Mother Nature didn’t seem too happy. Some agents didn’t mind it meanwhile the others were annoyed by it.

He doesn’t mind the rain too much.

“So, you’re the guy Nat was telling me about?” Clint said after a few minutes of silence between them.

Jason was hunched over readjusting his gun, and looked over his shoulder heading him, “What?”

“Natasha. She told me about you.”

“Uh, Clint, I don’t know a Natasha, buddy.”

He chuckled, “Ohhhh! You don’t know? Your women from legal, Natalie Rushman, is actually an agent of ours..”

“The fuck?” Jason let out, taking a moment to connect the dots and groaned, “God damn it! Pepper hired her, and didn’t even notice the clues.”

“Ah, well, she’s good at her job! Could fool anyone. She’s a widow for gods sakes!”

‘So was my big sister..’ He thought to himself, before adding, “Yeah, she fooled me. Uh, what did she say about me?”

“That you’re agile, smart, kind.” Clint snorted, “And bit of a grump. No offense! She likes to tell me about her missions and the people she meets, but she doesn’t know much about you..”

“And I like to keep it that way. For your knowledge and hers, I’m uh, just a family friend of Stark’s.”

“A very close one it seems. You didn’t seem like you wanted to leave the house.”

“Yeah well, someone needs to keep an eye on them. Enough about me, Clint, what about you?”

“Simple man like you, i guess. I remember wanting to work with SHIELD for a long time and I’ve been working 9-5 for some time now, trying to perfect my craft. Oh, I have a beautiful fiancé not a lot of people know that.”

Anyone can see the soft grin on Clint’s face mentioning the last part. He seemed very proud of it, as if he was planning on starting a family with whoever this fiancé was. In result, it had Jason smiling.

“Treat her right, Barton.” Jason told him with a smile.

“I try.” Clint replied, “You got anyone?”

“Uh..um, it’s complicated.”

“How complicated?”

“I take girls out on dates but it never last.”

“Hmm! You need to try finding a girl outside of your usual spots.”

They waited. Wait long hours of the day, Clint on his leveled perched up with his bow and arrow. Jason on the other side, underneath an umbrella, his gun in hand, eyes narrow. It was dark, rainy, quiet, you couldn’t hear much. Only the ruffle of trees, wet sand being slouch around and machines working.

Until they heard it. The grunts, groans, yells and pure shouting that started picking up pace. The running from starts perked Jason and Clint up in positions.

Then the pair saw it, the situation of a tall, blonde man with full on muscles over his body. His wet hair and pissed off look that made him look like Zeus. Clint got a clean shot at him and Jason narrowed, his gun able to get a closer look.

“Damn he’s uh, good looking..” Jason muttered, couldn’t lie and thanked god his old friends weren’t here to make heart eye at him.

“Yeah he is..” Clint muttered back then started asking Coulson to fire, who ordered him to wait.

The tall blonde man raised growled and roared like a large monster of rage, his hands gripping onto the handle of the hammer. He smirked as he pulled and grunted waiting for a result, but nothing came. Just like when Jason pulled it earlier. No result.

However, this man looked upset, screaming and his knees fell to the ground. He looked defeated. Like dialing back on doing a simple task, like he meant to lift it. Jason blinked, trying to think onto what this god was trying to achieve!

‘God of what?’ He asked himself, watching the man to see if he would do anything else. A part of him might’ve been empathetic toward him, if he wasn’t standing the freaking rain roaring in defeat and annoyance.

He snapped out of this thoughts when Coulson called it. Jason ran down with other agents cuffing Thor wrists together. Clint lowers his bow and arrow. They brought him into a room to be interrogated by Phil Coulson, the blonde man stayed quiet the whole time…

—————

Coulson paced back and forth, he just wanted a name. He bite his nails. Proof that this man has something to hide for he can report back to Fury. Phil kept glancing at the monitors, watching this man’s movements. It wasn’t moving, just looking defeated.

Clint was doing research measures for this case, Jason watched the scanners. His eyes stayed on the blonde, wishing he heard his name earlier when he was scouting the town, but he didn’t. Darcy nor Jane Foster said his name. Jason narrowed in on the tall blonde recognizing something, trying to connect the dots.

He seems to be a strong man. Maybe we he brought to Earth due to a punishment? Did he screw up with somebody? Who made him this way? So many questions were running across his head, watching the clock.

Again, he recognized the look, the same one his nephew shared two years ago before announcing himself as Iron Man.

He’s in need of finding himself, grounding himself in humanity.

Coulson locked eyes with Jason, knowing his time was almost up. Less than 12 hours and he’ll be gone back to Miami.

“You talk to him.” Phil remarked.

“What? No.” Jason rejected the request.

“We just need his name. He said he’s a god compared to the men here.”

“Every man thinks he’s a god. I’ve been near it, he’s just bluffing.”

“Exactly why you should go! Please, i just need it and we can focus our research with the equipment we stole from Foster.”

“You stole from Dr. Foster. Not me.”

Jason grumbled underneath his breath, reminding himself he’ll be gone soon. He walked away, removing his jacket and took a long sigh, sucking his teeth before entering the room.

~~~~

He entered the clear room, holding a glass of water for the man and a snack. A bag of chips he stole from the vending machines.

He sat down in the chair across from him, handing him the items.

“What’s this?” Asked the blonde, holding the glass of water and small bag.

“Water. I can promise you it’s not drugged or anything. You need it after taking out those men.” Jason explained, with a kindness in his tone.

“Why? Are you with them? Theses men. Son of Col and his soldiers.”

“Not exactly, your highness. I was just sent to scout the town and keep an eye on the people, especially after the ruckus at the moment.”

“You mean to cause me and theses humans harm then…?”

“No. I didn’t, that was Coulson’s doing. I didn’t know his intentions until now. He know he’s on a time crunch with me and he just ask one thing of you.”

“And what is that?”

Thor stayed silent, looking down after asking that question. He leaned against his chair, inching forward to drink the water and bag of the chips he was given. He was hungry and very much appreciated the small offering. He watched the man, sitting in front of him. He held such kindness, honesty and plenty of gruff to himself. As if he had a lot of trouble in his mind.

“Who are you?” Thor asked him, sipping his glass.

“Why would you like to know? He asked, rather intrigued by his eyes.

“You offered to show me a far cry of kindness.”

“Because, if you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people…”

Thor was honestly taking back by his words. Those were powerful enough just to be written in stone. He wondered if this man was playing a role or actually meant every word in that sentence. As if he lived plenty of lives, such as himself. A part of him choose to highly respect it.

“What’s your game, mortal?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“No, no game your highness. You have your secrets and so do i. And i can tell you don’t want to be here.” Jason told him honestly, “I’ll just like to know your name. Please?”

“..I’m Thor. Son Of Odin.”

“Your a god..?”

“Yes. What do you mean by the question?”

“A man of your status must’ve been sent here for a reason, my lord.”

“I was casted out of my home for being a ruckus and disobeying my orders…but i can assure you, I didn’t mean to cause you harm..”

“I can tell. Thor, i don’t know how long you’ve been here on Earth but what I’m about to say might ease your thoughts.”

“Hm?”

“You were sent here to learn a lesson. I can only imagine what it might be, however that’s for you figure out.”

“A lesson?”

“There’s always trials and errors to overcome. And I believe you might have to learn something from being among us humans..”

The god of thunder stayed silent simply nodded, listening to him as his mind ran with billions of thoughts. Jason stood up from his chair thanking him for that small information and he’ll request for Thor to be released soon enough.

He was about to leave the room when the god of thunder stop him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his blue eyes pooling and twirling in curiosity.

He looked over his shoulder with a simple half smile, “Jason Underwood, your majesty.”

With that last comment he left, telling Clint what he found from his conversation with the blonde. It wasn’t much, he wasn’t going to tell Barton about what exactly happened in that room. Keeping that information private until further notice. He only said that his name was ‘Thor’ and that he’s a god.

Clint nodded taking note of what was said to tell Coulson later. Jason nodded, snatching up his keys. His work here was done. He hoped.

He took the first chance he got, returning back to his motel to pack his things and head back home.

The man was driving to Miami turning back the radio, when he received a call from James Rhodes. Rhodey was telling him what recently happened with Tony, the fight with Pepper, the issue with his suits and whatnot. Along with the fact that Tony decided to take off in his suit and sat on a giant freaking donut. It was a rather long list.

“He did what?!”

Was all Jason yelled out the phone, as he reached a red light.

As if he week couldn’t get any weirder…

—//—

Thanks for reading this story! Also is this my soft reboot of a cooler sweeter MCU? Yes. Yes it is.

Did you catch the two pop culture references? ;)

Pls reblog, like, share and comment for more

Tags: @mandylove1000 @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @triptuckers @rooster-84 @sherloquestea @meiramel @hangmanbrainrot @morgan108 @eliohasmyheart @blackheart-beauty @yetanotherwells @blueboirick and etc

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rosielou94 · 5 months

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By Candlelight - Father Rudra Khatri x Fem!Reader - NSFW

Warnings: No plot, just porn - +18

Follow Up to Long Lonely Nights

A/N: I smashed out this story in an hour. This man has a hold on me that I simply cannot explain

The lights in the church were low, the flickering of the candle flames against the wall casting a golden glow that enveloped you in their warmth. There was no tapping on the windows tonight, the Creatures deciding to toy with another household this evening.

The night was quiet, the silent stillness broken only by the moans of Father Rudra Khatri. He sat splayed in the front pew of his church, his head tipped back and mouth slack. His jeans were pulled down by his ankles, his light blue shirt unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders. You knelt between his legs, your head on his left thigh as your index finger trailed a line along the inside of his right thigh. Every now and again, you’d look up at him, your fist gently closed around his hard cock as you pumped up and down his length.

The man was a whining, needy mess, his moans growing louder the closer to the edge he got. “Please,” he whispered, as you lazily flicked your tongue over the tip of his shaft, enjoying the reaction you got. His pleas were replaced by a gravelly moan as you took his full length in your mouth, your fingers squeezing into his thighs. Rudra arched his back, the legs of the chair he was sitting on scraping against the stone floor. His hands gently held either side of your head, still too timid to take control, but also enjoying the fact he was completely at your mercy. He watched as your head bobbed, your mouth struggling to take in his length. You moaned as your fingers slipped into your underwear, desperate the quell the ache between your legs.

Rudra so badly wanted to touch you, to taste you, to feel you quiver beneath his touch. He couldn’t get enough of you; you were like the best kind of drug. “I need to touch you,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, the sight of you pleasuring yourself the most blissful kind of torture. “The quicker you cum, the quicker you get to touch me,” you teased, releasing him from your mouth with a pop, before wrapping your fist around his length again. He watched as you used your hands to pleasure yourself and him, and he closed his eyes as he listened to you moan softly, imagining that he was sliding into you, giving himself over to you completely.

With a cry, Rudra came, his hot seed leaking across his stomach and down your hand. He pulled you onto his lap, your lips crashing together in a heated kiss. “I’m ready,” he whispered, peppering your face and neck with hurried kisses. “Are you sure?” you asked, your fingertips entwining around his hair as he kissed down your body. “Yes, yes, I need you,” Rudra pleaded. “Then you have me,” you smiled, giggling as he swooped you up in his arm and headed for his bedroom.

It had been two weeks since the night you’d fallen in the forest and Rudra Khatri had saved you. Every night since then, you’d spent in the church together, just the two of you. You stayed up most of the night, talking and kissing until Rudra was ready for more. For the first few days you’d made up excuses about why you were staying in the Church, and not in the house you shared with Paula and Reggie. Most people saw straight through the excuses though, they knew you two had feelings even before you knew. The Townspeople politely played ignorant, not wanting to spoil whatever it was that was blossoming between you and the Priest.

The first time you’d taken Rudra into your mouth, he was sure he’d died and that this was heaven. You’d undressed in front of him, his eyes taking in every single perfect inch of your body in the candlelight. You assured him you’d take it as slow as he wanted, and he had every intention of doing so, but as the nights went on, he found that he wanted to give himself to you. You were a beautiful, funny, kind and perfect gift sent straight from God and he wanted all of you. Every single night, you’d taught him things about his body, showed him pleasure he hadn’t even known was possible. As much as he loved being touched by you, he loved touching you even more. The feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingers, the shuddering moans that left your lips when he slid his fingers inside of you. He loved having you lie on his bed, cheeks flushed and fists gripping the sheets as he explored you. The sounds of ecstasy when he found the perfect spot with his fingers and tongue and you came, gripping fistfuls of his hair as his tongue caressed your clit. Yes, he was sure these nights were a taste of heaven.

Rudra set you gently down on the bed, heading to the small wash basin in the corner of the room to clean himself up. He shed his shirt, letting the blue fabric fall to the floor as he cleaned himself with a washcloth. He was hard again already, the sight of you perched on the end of his bed and the thought of what you were about to do almost brought him to the edge again. You were wearing a yellow sundress, the colour a perfect contrast against your skin. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could see the hardness of your nipples poking through, the fabric clinging perfectly to your skin. “Rudra?” you bought the priest back down to earth as you said his name, your head tilted slightly to the side as you looked at him quizzically. Even the way you said his name sent electricity coursing through his veins. “I’m ok,” he smiled, coming to sit next to you. “I still just can’t believe you’re here.” You smiled and kissed him, trailing your nails down his chest and stomach. Rudra shivered against your touch as you whispered, “I’m here.” “I want you, all of you,” he pleaded, gripping the hem of your dress with his hands. You helped him pull the material away from your skin, letting yourself be pushed back onto his bed as he took you all in. No matter how many times he looked at you, he’d never get tired of the sight.

Your underwear was already soaked through, he could feel it as he ran his hand across the thin cotton fabric. You uttered a breathy moan, arching your back into his touch. As much as Rudra wanted you, he wanted you to feel the same pleasure as he had. Morning was still a long way off, and he could take his time. Achingly slowly, he pulled your underwear down your legs, marvelling at just how wet you were. You let your legs fall open as Rudra’s fingers stroked your soaking core, his thumb circling over your clit. He knelt between your legs, sliding two fingers deep inside you. “Fuck,” you moaned, your fists gripping the sheets as Rudra’s thumb continued circling your clit. His other hand trailed up your stomach and palmed your breast, his fingers gently pinching one nipple, then the other. “Oh my god,” you whispered, marvelling at how quick of a learner Rudra was. He was able to ignite something in your body that nobody ever had and every time he touched you, it was like the most delicious bolt of lightning through your body. “Is this ok, just like this?” he asked, sliding another finger inside you. “Just like this, yes,” you moaned, your arm nearest the wall reaching out to brace yourself. You could feel your thighs shaking, that deep, aching heat of pleasure creeping up inside you. “I’m so close,” you whispered, your head tipping back on the pillow as Rudra pumped his fingers in and out of you with a quickening pace. With a shuddering cry, you came around his fingers, your hand gripping onto his wrist as he stroked the inside of your walls.

You fell back against the mattress, your body still shaking. Rudra climbed on top of you and wrapped you up in his arms, pressing tender kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Are you ready?” you asked him, brushing a piece of sweat soaked hair from his forehead. With a nod, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he guided himself inside you. Rudra was big, and the feeling as he entered you was one of pain and pleasure. You bit your lip as he pushed himself into you, your nails leaving marks as they dug into his back. You moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync as Rudra moaned against your mouth, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. The rickety bed creaked as you moved as one, the softness of his hands and roughness of his beard the perfect contrast as his lips and fingers explored your body. He filled you up so perfectly, your body fit right perfectly between his. It’s like you were made for each other. “I’m gonna –“ Rudra moaned, too pussy drunk to finish his sentence. “It’s ok,” you smiled, “let go.”

With a cry, Rudra came, his seed filling you up and sliding down your thighs. You held each other close, your breathing ragged as you came down from your highs. “I love you,” he whispered, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. “I love you too,” you smiled, nestling yourself into him as he wrapped his arms around you. He only had a small bed, barely enough room for just him, but you made it work. You pushed yourself into his body as he held you close. It was still quiet outside, the sound of your breathing and your beating hearts the only noises in the room.

You thought of those monsters, roaming around outside the church and throughout the rest of the Town. It was such a stark contrast to the safety you felt in the church, cuddled up in the too small bed with a man you never thought you’d be lucky enough to have. You had no idea how much longer you had left; every day could potentially be your last. You used to dread the night-time and the paralysing fear it brought. But now, you couldn’t wait for the sun to go down, so you could be locked in here with Rudra, safe in your own little bubble. As if reading your thoughts, Rudra whispered, “I promise you this. Until my last breath, I will keep you safe.”

#father khatri x reader #father khatri #father rudra khatri x reader #father rudra khatri #from epix #epix from

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dlea203 · 2 years

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5 years - Hannix AU

A/N: Hello everyone☺️!

Ehmm... No, I won't bother you with any excuses for the delay of this one. I just hope that it was worth the wait😬😅.

Thank you for all the love on the two previous chapters. As always, if you have any requests or ideas for this story, don't hesitate to tell me.

Here's chapter three!

Taglist: @sweetwhispersofchaos

Warnings: fluff, some hinted (really only hinted!) 🌶-y time ;) and angst

P.S: Yes, I used Glen Powell's birthday ;)

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Chapter Three

“Bye guys, drive safe”, Natasha said, smiling, before softly closing the door.

The Garcia’s were the last of the dagger squad who left the Seresin residence. Given the circumstances, the BBQ had lasted until well past 6 p.m. But the time flew by, since all of them wanted to update Jake on what had happened in the last five years. Which was quite a lot, starting with the fact that four more children had entered this world. And that was just the tip of the iceberg…

Around 7.30 p.m. Emma and Bradley had announced that they needed to go home. Emma’s parents would be hosting a family brunch on Sunday and therefor the Bradshaw’s claimed they needed to fix their household beforehand. The Fitch’s and the Machado’s followed not long after and Bob and Sandy left with the Machado’s.

That left the Seresin’s on their own, with their fair share of household chores. Natasha sighed audibly when she returned from the door, expecting a pile of dishes on the counter and a giant mess on the kitchen table. But she stopped in her tracks at what she saw in the kitchen. Jake stood in front of the sink, doing the dishes. Next to him, in front of the counter and on a kitchen chair, stood Lynn, dutifully drying the plates and cutlery. They laughed about something, and Lynn shrieked when Jake suddenly splashed some water on her.

“Daddy, my dress!”

Natasha’s heart swelled and she felt warmth spread from her chest all the way down to her toes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, observing the chaotic duo in the kitchen. Her chaotic duo. She still couldn’t quite believe that he was here. Despite having spent the last few hours in his presence, feeling his arms around her most of the time, her brain still didn’t fully register that he was home.

Jake splashed some more water on Lynn, but this time, she fought back. Lynn dipped her hand into the sink and splashed a decent amount on him, laughing uncontrollably in the process. Jake laughed along, his laughter coming from deep within his belly. Natasha couldn’t help but smile dreamily and shake her head in disbelief.

Lynn was not only a mini-me of Jake from the looks, but she also shared his goofiness and his laughter. The joy on their faces was infectious, so much so that Natasha couldn’t be mad at the mess they made, even if she wanted to. She simply stood there, smiling from ear to ear, observing the scene unfolding in front of her.

The water war lasted about five minutes, before Jake held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright sweetheart, you win! I surrender!”

Lynn squealed in delight and threw her hands up in the air, splashing water on the kitchen window and the counter in the process. Jake shook his head, grinning, and picked up the abandoned towel from the floor. He poked Lynn’s nose with his index finger before gently drying off her tiny hands. Lynn giggled and they whispered about something Natasha couldn’t quite make out. Then, Jake slung the towel over his shoulder and helped Lynn hop down from the kitchen chair. Lynn dashed past Natasha into the hallway and disappeared behind the corner.

“I sent her for another towel, this one’s almost soaked.”

Jake faced the sink again, not glancing over his shoulder as he spoke. He continued rinsing the remaining plates while Natasha walked up to him, taking Lynn’s place at his side.

“You don’t have to do this, I can…”

“You’ve done more than enough already”, he cut her off.

She looked at him with her eyebrows arched in confusion.

“You do recall that the others brought half of the food, right? I didn’t need to do very much.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The wrinkles on her forehead became even deeper.

“What did you mean then?”

Jake nodded into the direction of the hallway.

“I wasn’t exactly around to help with her. Well actually, I wasn’t around to help in any way. So, doing the dishes is the least I can do. It’s a start.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it again immediately. She didn’t know what to reply. His words contained so much guilt and pain, that her heart contracted in her chest. His face sported a tiny smile and his eyes had lost all the sparkles of joy from minutes ago. Instead, they were rather glassy, tears gathering at the corners, threatening to spill over at any moment. Guilt was gnawing at his soul, eating him alive.

At their wedding, he’d promised her to always be there for her. Be there right next to her, walking through life side by side. When she was pregnant, he’d promised her these same things over and over again.

“I’ll always be there for you come hell or high water. For you and our little miracle. I promise you Nat, I won’t leave you hanging. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Bagman”, she’d laughed, placing her hand over his on her swollen belly.

It was one of those moments; those, in which he was absolutely awestruck by the fact that he was the luckiest man alive. It was one of these extremely emotional and important moments, that showed him, how much his wonderful wife had helped him grow into the man he was today. He gazed into her eyes, gently brushing a lock of hair out of her face, a mesmerized smile on his lips.

“You’re so much more than I deserve and still you chose to spend your life with me. I will never be able to thank you enough for that. But I promise that I will do everything in my power to be the husband you deserve. And to be the father our child deserves.”

Her heart had melted and her love for him was evident on her face. She mirrored his smile and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You and me, ‘til the end of time”, she’d whispered, closing her eyes while she leaned her forehead against his.

“You and me, forever”, he replied, breathing in her scent and reveling in this moment of pure perfection.

And he’d kept his word. Until that damn day five years ago. When he didn’t come home.

He tried to get his feelings under control, but he was barely able to hold himself upright. His bad conscience was destroying him. Has been doing that since the alarms in his cockpit went off and he’d been forced to pull the ejection handle. Over the desert, in the middle of enemy territory, with no hope of salvation…

Natasha waited for a follow-up explanation, to better understand what was happening right there next to her. She saw him struggling on the inside. What was going through his head? Would he tell her? Or would she be left to guess?

Suddenly, the meaning of his words hit her like a giant truck. He was feeling guilty for not having been home for five years. He must think he had let her down…

“You… y-you’re feeling guilty for not having been able to come home?!”, she asked, disbelief and shock resonating in her voice.

Jake avoided her gaze. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. He could still barely look into the mirror.

“I promised you to be here… That I wouldn’t leave you hanging and what have I done? Exactly that.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, laced thick with emotion. His shoulders slumped forward slightly, and he took a deep breath before really looking at her for the first time since their friends had left the house.

But before he could continue, Lynn ran back into the kitchen, loudly announcing that she got a fresh towel.

“Here daddy, I got the towel!”

She held it out to him, smiling from ear to ear, completely oblivious to the tension in the kitchen.

Jake smiled back at her, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes, while crouching down to be at the same height as his daughter. He accepted the towel, pressing a big kiss to her cheek, making her giggle.

“Thank you, princess. You’re so smart.”

Lynn nodded proudly and looked between her parents.

“And what now?”, she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

Jake continued to dry the dishes. Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle at the comedic show their daughter was putting on. She knew that Lynn was exhausted, because putting on a show was her way of fighting off her exhaustion from hitting her.

“Now it’s time for bed, baby”, Natasha said and ran her hand gently over Lynn’s head.

“No! I’m not tired yet!”

“Yes, you are. Come on, let’s get you ready for bed. I’ll help you.”

“No mommy, I’m not tired! I don’t want to go to bed!”

Lynn escaped her mother’s grasp by sprinting into the living room.

“Lynn, come here”, Natasha ordered, firm but calmly.

“Catch me if you can!”, Lynn called from the living room, a playful grin on her face.

She truly was a mini-version of her father.

“We’re not playing games now. Come here, it’s bedtime for you and you know it.”

“You gotta catch me first!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. She was usually pretty patient, sometimes even giving in to the games her daughter attempted to play with her. But today has taken a toll on her. She was exhausted too, and she desperately wanted to continue this conversation with Jake in private.

“Lynn Helen Seresin, you’re going to bed now, end of discussion. Either you come with me by yourself or I’m gonna drag you up the stairs. Your choice.”

“No!”

“Lynn, stop it. Come here”, Natasha snapped, holding out her left hand, her eyebrows arched challengingly.

Lynn crossed her arms over her chest, stomping her foot on the floor, her face twisting into an angry expression.

“I’m counting to three and then you’re here. One”, Natasha stated, glaring hard at her daughter.

Lynn didn’t move. In moments like this one, Natasha despised the fact that Lynn had inherited stubbornness from both parents equally.

“Two.”

Lynn still didn’t make a move. Apparently, she wanted to challenge her mother tonight.

“Last warning”, Natasha announced, the volume of her voice rising slightly.

Jake just finished drying off the dishes and placed the towel on the counter. He turned around and observed the staring contest between his girls, slightly concerned.

“But mommy, I’m not tired”, Lynn whined, uncrossing her arms, and falling face down onto the couch.

“I don’t care. Come here now or I’ll come get you.”

Lynn shook her head, burying her face in the couch cushions.

“That’s enough!”, Natasha exclaimed, frustration boiling over.

But she could only take one step, before Jake gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

“What…”

“I’ll tell you what, princess…If you go upstairs with mommy right now, and get ready for bed, I’ll tell you a bedtime story later. Deal?”

Lynn raised her head and looked at him, surprised and disbelieving.

“Really?”

“I promise. But you gotta behave and do what mommy says. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Lynn walked past her parents towards the stairs and started climbing them, muttering something to herself. Natasha arched an eyebrow at him.

“How did you do that? Where’d you get that secret power of yours from, hmm?”

Jake flashed her a charming smirk before kissing her on the lips.

“I have my way with kids. Now go. I’m gonna finish up down here.”

She shook her head disbelievingly, yelping in the cutest way when he smacked her ass as she sauntered away.

“I’m done!”, Lynn exclaimed after she’d spit out the rest of the toothpaste.

“Oh no, baby, I think you missed a whole row of teeth down here. Let me see.”

Natasha took Lynn’s toothbrush out of her hand and stuck it back into her mouth, gently brushing the bottom left row of teeth. Lynn rolled her eyes but stood perfectly still on the stool in front of the sink.

“Ah, ah, ah”, Natasha scolded, arching her eyebrows.

Lynn was really pushing the limits today.

“What’s mommy’s rule about your eyes?”

She removed the toothbrush and rinsed it, while Lynn spat the toothpaste into the sink.

“Lynn?”

“You don’t roll your eyes at your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles or any other adult person you know”, Lynn recited dutifully.

“Exactly. And what do we do if we made a mistake or broke a rule?”

“We say sorry.”

“Well?”

Lynn looked at her with her best attempt of puppy dog eyes, a dopey and almost innocent smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to roll my eyes at you, and I won’t do it again.”

Natasha pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep a straight face. But her daughter’s adorable expression made her mask of strictness shatter instantly. So, she narrowed her eyes, bumped Lynn’s nose with her own, and cupped her cheeks.

“Pajamas, now”, she ordered, smiling affectionately.

“Can I pick out a fresh one?”

“Only if you’re faster in your room than me.”

Natasha had long discovered that her daughter had inherited not only the stubbornness of both her parents, but also their competitive nature and their ambition. So, she constantly tried to confront Lynn with little challenges to fuel her ambition. And Lynn always took the bait, even today. She hopped down from the stool and ran into her room, her little steps echoing through the hallway. Natasha followed her, after she’d splashed some water on her face and cleaned up the sink.

“Alright baby, which pajamas do you want?”

“The one with the grey fox.”

Natasha picked it out of the closet and walked over to Lynn, who had already shed her dress on the floor.

“Where does the dress go?”, Natasha checked and smiled contently, when Lynn picked it up and put it onto the chair in the corner.

Then, she helped Lynn step into the grey pants with tiny white hearts on them. Lynn held onto her shoulders and quietly hummed a melody to herself. Natasha carefully pulled out the hair clips and combed through Lynn’s hair with her fingers, before slipping the peach-colored top over her head.

“There you go. Let’s get you tucked in.”

“But daddy promised me a story!”

“I know, but you gotta be under the covers for that.”

“You’re tricking me!”

Natasha looked at her in disbelief, mildly offended by that accusation.

“I would never. Now get in the bed, or I’m not gonna let daddy keep his promise.”

Lynn snorted and climbed a little reluctantly under the covers, holding on tightly to her fluffy sheep and narrowing her eyes at her mother. Natasha stowed away the hair clips in the box on Lynn’s bedside table, leaned down and wanted to drop a kiss on Lynn’s lips, but her daughter turned her face away.

“Lynn, please.”

Lynn shook her head and buried her face in the cushions.

“Princess, give your mommy a kiss”, Jake’s deep voice sounded from behind them.

Natasha was almost frightened, so suddenly and quietly he had appeared in the door frame. He had his arms crossed over his chest, challengingly arching an eyebrow at his daughter. Lynn pursed her lips before leaning up and kissing Natasha on her lips.

“Goodnight, mommy.”

“Goodnight, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Natasha straightened back up and walked past Jake, smiling tiredly at him. He grabbed her arm, tilting her slightly and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be right back”, he whispered, and she nodded, leaving father and daughter on their own.

Lynn was asleep within a few minutes. Jake didn’t even have time to finish the story. He chuckled quietly, brushed a few locks of hair out of her face and kissed her on her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, princess. Daddy loves you so much.”

Lynn mumbled something incoherently, clutching her fluffy sheep tighter to her chest, surrendering herself to sleep. Jake switched off the light on her bedside table and softly closed the door behind him when he left her room.

When Jake walked back down into the living room, he found Natasha sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine on the coffee table. She looked up from her phone when she heard him and smiled. Dark circles started to show underneath her eyes and her smile was a rather tired one. She looked absolutely exhausted.

Jake took that as his cue to leave. He didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to pressure her even less. Or overstep any boundaries. It’s been five years since he was here. Of course, this was his home too, but he’s been gone for a long time. He couldn’t expect, let alone ask, to be allowed to move back in right away. He’d been lucky enough that she’d let him stay for as long as he had today. So, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and slowly turned towards the door.

“Goodnight, Nat”, he threw over his shoulder before disappearing behind the corner.

“Whoa, Jake wait! Where do you think you’re going?”

He had his hand on the doorknob when she practically came running into the hallway, looking at him with a strange expression on her face. It was something between disbelief, frustration, and… fear?

“I was… I was going to drive back into the city center. It’s a bit late but I’m sure that one of those many hotels still has a room for me.”

She stared at him, her eyes widening. He smiled, hoping that his gratitude for today was evident on his face. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, a silent promise to find a solution for the future. He knew in his heart that eventually they would figure out how to proceed from here. But not tonight.

He reached for the doorknob once more, but Natasha grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Are you leaving me again?”

Now it was his turn for his eyes to widen.

“What?”

“I will let you go if you really want to. But please, stay with me, Jake. Stay home.”

She practically pleaded, a desperate expression on her face. He gazed at her, unsure and nervous.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you… I… it’s been a long time, Nat. We don’t have to rush things. No, actually, I don’t want us to rush things. I love you too much for that.”

She shook her head while stepping right up to him, so their chests were touching. Her hands snuck around his neck while his dropped to her waist. She stood on her tiptoes, her lips only an inch away from his, their foreheads pressed together.

“In my eyes, we’re not rushing anything. If you feel like we do, that’s okay. But I don’t want to spend another night alone. I’ve been doing that for the past five years. So, tell me, what do I have to do to convince you to stay with me?”

He groaned quietly, tightening his grip on her waist.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day”, he rasped out, his gaze turning hungry.

Natasha shivered under his intense stare, carefully extracting herself from him. She sauntered over to the stairs, slowly starting to walk up, swaying her hips teasingly. About halfway up, she stopped and turned around, slowly pulling her dress over her head, dropping it next to her on the staircase. Flashing him a sexy grin, she turned back and walked up the remaining steps, still with that sway in her hips, disappearing around the corner.

Jake hesitated in the doorway for a moment, glancing around the room that he connected so many special memories with. It still looked exactly the same as he remembered it from back in the days. Obviously, she’d changed the sheets in the meantime and the fake palm in the far corner was new, but the rest was the same. Even the framed photos on the dresser and the walls.

Natasha stood in front of the dresser, getting rid of her jewelry. Jake dropped her abandoned dress on the chair in the corner and walked up behind her. He glanced at her in the mirror while his hands moved up and down her arms. Natasha met his gaze in the mirror, her lips curving up into a dreamy smile. Jake stepped closer and she leaned back into him, pressing her body against his.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispered before starting to pepper her cheek and jaw and neck with gentle kisses.

She lifted her left hand up and put it on the back of his head, holding him to her. Her right hand covered his on her hip.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, it’s not fair”, she breathed out and felt a shiver running down her spine.

“What are you going to do about it, Misses Seresin?”, he asked playfully, nipping at the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

Her name falling from his lips sounded heavenly, almost sacred, and ignited a fire within her. She turned around in his arms and practically yanked his shirt over his head before attacking his lips. He gasped in surprise but quickly got a hold of himself. His hands roamed all over her body, reacquainting himself with her gorgeous curves.

From then on, it was like a dance. One step after the other and yet everything merged smoothly. They didn’t move gracefully in any way, but they didn’t care. It was chaotic and a bit awkward, but they ended up where they wanted to be. In each other’s arms, surrounded by their laughter, panting breaths, and quiet moans. In their very personal heaven.

October 21st, three years ago…

The parking lot of the cemetery was almost empty when Natasha put her car into parking mode and switched it off. She took a deep breath before unbuckling her seat belt and opening the door of her car.

Compared to the usual conditions in San Diego in October, today was a rather “cold” day, the temperatures not higher than 70°F. Natasha grabbed her jacket from the passenger seat before opening the left back door, where she was greeted by a pair of green eyes. Those eyes were curiously taking in their surroundings while their owner waited for Natasha to unclasp the straps of the car seat.

Lynn held tightly onto her mother when she was lifted out of the car, and she let out a whine when her mother let go of her hand and leaned over the car seat to grab a bouquet of flowers.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m right here. I just needed to get the flowers. Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Natasha closed the door as gently as possible and locked the car. Then, she grabbed Lynn’s hand and led her towards the iron gate on the left side of the parking lot.

They had to walk through quite a lot of rows of graves. When there were only a few more meters left, Natasha stopped.

Today was the first time that she brought Lynn with her to see him, and she was uncharacteristically nervous because of that. She had no idea why and it was driving her insane. Maybe because when she usually came here, she could cry shamelessly and let all her guards down. Bringing Lynn meant that she had to keep it together, as to not distress her daughter. She didn’t want Lynn to witness her breaking down.

So, she got her feelings under control, tightened her grip on Lynn’s hand slightly and crouched down to offer her the bouquet.

“Baby, do you wanna bring him the flowers?”

Lynn nodded and took them from her mother. Natasha ran her free hand over Lynn’s head and took another deep breath, before covering the remaining distance.

Every time she read his name on that stone, she felt like getting punched to the gut. Because then, reality set in for a moment.

When she was at home, she could pretend that he was still around in some way. Or (when she was feeling extra brave) she convinced herself that one day, the door will fly open and he’ll walk in, completely unscathed.

But seeing Lt. JAKE “HANGMAN” SERESIN carved into a light-gray stone took away those daydreams. And her heart shattered every time, despite having lived with this reality for two years now.

“Mama?”, Lynn asked, breaking her spiral of thoughts.

“I’m fine. Look, you can put the flowers in here.”

Natasha pointed to the tiny vase at the front of the grave, crouching down to remove the rest of a wilted bouquet. Lynn stepped in front of her mother and carefully placed the flowers into the vase.

“Perfect”, Natasha complimented her daughter and plucked at the bouquet, rearranging the flowers slightly.

“Daddy”, Lynn exclaimed when she laid eyes on the framed picture in front of the gravestone, pointing at it and meeting her mother’s gaze.

“Yeah, that’s daddy. Say hi.”

“Hi daddy”, Lynn said and waved at the picture.

Natasha brushed a lock of hair out of Lynn’s face and smiled sadly, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. It was hard watching her daughter being forced to talk to a picture of her father. Lynn was only two years old; she didn’t understand yet why her father wasn’t with them. Although she rarely asked about him, Natasha knew that she understood that he wasn’t there with them. And that he would never be.

“Mama, say hi”, Lynn ordered and grabbed Natasha’s hand, making her wave at the picture.

Natasha chuckled while straightening up. She took a careful step forward, bent down and pressed a kiss to his gravestone.

“Hey babe”, she whispered, feeling a tear fall down her cheek.

Then, she stepped back next to Lynn, crouching down again, putting her hands on Lynn’s shoulders.

“Baby, should we sing?”

Lynn tilted her head, a confused expression on her face.

“Why sing?”

“Well, it’s daddy’s birthday today… And I know that he’d love it if we sang for him. Is that okay for you?”

Lynn’s face lit up and she nodded.

“Okay… I’ll count to three and then we sing happy birthday. Ready?”

Lynn nodded again, straightening her back.

“One… two… three. Happy birthday to you! … Happy birthday to you! … Happy birthday, dear daddy! … Happy birthday to you!”

Lynn clapped her hands and giggled when they finished. Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle too, wiping away the tears that had escaped her eyes.

“Happy birthday daddy”, Lynn said once more, before shifting her attention to the little angel figure next to the vase.

“Feliz cumpleaños mi amor”, Natasha whispered, putting her right hand over her heart.

She knew that Jake had started to learn Spanish once he’d been introduced to her family. She hadn’t known until she’d returned home early from work once and he’d been on the phone with her mother, talking about their plans for Christmas in pretty decent Spanish.

Since then, he’d gotten significantly better. Before he’d died, he’d even been able to have long and detailed conversations with her grandmother from Mexico.

Before he had died. Before he had been taken from her, from their daughter, from their families and friends.

“We miss you”, she whispered, staring at the picture.

He was in his flight suit on board a carrier, enjoying one of those rare moments in which they were allowed to be on deck. He smiled widely and happily into the camera, the sun reflecting in his green eyes, making them sparkle. One of his colleagues from his squadron had taken that picture. Jake had been on his first deployment after they had gotten married. And apparently, seconds before this picture, he’d gotten off the phone with Natasha. His colleagues hadn’t stopped teasing him for the rest of the deployment, but Natasha was infinitely grateful for this picture. It captured his personality perfectly, who he was… who he’d been.

And that was, what was written on his gravestone, underneath his birthday and his day of death:A loving husband and father as well as a passionate aviator for the U.S. Navy.

#hannix #hangman x phoenix #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #top gun maverick #writing #fanfiction

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thedivinelights · 2 years

Text

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Pairings: Ebenezer Scrooge/Isabel Fezziwig

Summary:

Ebenezer Scrooge has spent these past two years fixing bonds he had destroyed, building bridges that he had burned. No more did people look upon him and fear. It was safe to say his future was averted.

Then the cracks began to appear, showing him the one he had carelessly thrown away years ago. He knew there was more to be done.

Perhaps happiness was not fully out of his reach just yet.

"Going so soon, Bob?"

Bob turned to face Scrooge, his coat swung over his shoulders as he made his way to the front door of their joint business, Scrooge and Cratchit Savings & Loans.

"I promised Ethel I'd be home before five. Kathy and Tim are part of the school play, you see. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Scrooge smiled from his place at his desk, "They're both lucky enough to be there, Kathy in particular. It took a lot to get them into that school."

"And we are always glad for it, Mr. Scrooge."

Mercer's Chapel Grammar School was hardly a cheap one, nor was it one to so easily allow girls of Kathy's age into their walls. Nor was any school, for that matter. Despite the difficulties the Cratchit children had suffered over the years, Scrooge had made sure to get them all into the fulfilling education that many others wouldn't even dream of. It was the least he could do to amend for his sins against them over the years. Bob especially, had been pleased with this new arrangement. It allowed for both he and Ethel the chance to have more time to spend doing the things they enjoyed the most.

"Well you best get going then." Scrooge replied, putting the last of his daily earnings into his safe. Bob all but tipped his hat to say his farewells before heading off. The older man gave a small smile, spending the next hour carrying out his menial tasks before he himself turned in for the day. Prudence gave a small woof as she walked alongside her owner who was greeting any and all passerby with a kindness never before seen in the man two years prior. It didn't take long for them to reach his humble abode, which had undergone some changes over the past two years.

Gone were colourless cracked walls and dull paint, creaky floors filled with dust. They had all but been replaced with bright red wallpaper and the area covered with every bit of furniture deemed necessary for a household, no more, no less. The fireplace, where once it flickered dimly, now flared with a burning passion. Prudence's bed lay waiting near the fireplace to which she rushed to with the eagerness of a speeding cheetah, curling up and biting down on the bone that her owner had so graciously gifted her. Scrooge chuckled at her antics before haphazardly throwing his coat and hat onto the couch, making his way to the kitchen. Despite the numerous reforms he made over the years, his taste in food had not changed as much as many would have liked. Scrooge made for himself a small bowl of porridge before making his way back to the living room where he silently enjoyed his meal.

Yet all so suddenly, the candles that lay on top of the fireplace flickered for a moment, Prudence barely glancing up to observe. When Scrooge had all but finished his meal, he gazed up at the flames himself, watching as the candle wax suddenly grew in size, shifting and morphing into various builds above his coffee table before transforming into one he knew well and all but destroying said coffee table.

"You owe me for that, you know." Scrooge raised an eyebrow at Past, though his tone was far from chastising.

Past could only give a smile, the flame on their head growing slightly in cheer, "Oh come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

They turned to Prudence, slobbering the poor girl in kisses and hugs whilst Scrooge made to put his bowl away. After his supernatural encounter with Marley and the other ghosts he found himself in their company more often than not, Past and Present especially. Future was a... rare case however; Scrooge had still been rather unnerved by them even to this day. The others, however? He could hardly bat an eye at that. All they had to do was promise not to visit when others were around. After all, how does one explain how three supernatural beings came to the abode of an old money lender?

"How goes Marley? Being an insufferable pile of work?" He gave a smirk, offering a cup of tea to Past to which they graciously accepted despite not needing sustenance.

"Oh, you know, grouchy as always." Their face turned into one more sincere as they took a sip, "He wants to see you, did you know that? With his task with you done, he can no longer interact with you as we can. Shame, really, but I don't make the rules!"

Scrooge chuckled at Past's words, taking a seat on the couch next to them. "I can't imagine Marley ever changing, even in death."

Past nodded in agreement, taking another sip of their tea. "He's still as stubborn as ever, but he's found a sense of purpose in helping others. He's even managed to redeem a few souls along the way."

Scrooge smiled, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "I'm glad to hear that. It's good to know that even in death, one can still make amends for their mistakes."

Past nodded, their flame flickering as they gazed at Scrooge with a fond expression. "You've come a long way, Ebenezer. You've changed so much since we first met."

Scrooge's smile faltered as he thought back to his past, the guilt and shame still fresh in his mind. "I still have a long way to go. There are people I've hurt that I'll never be able to make amends to."

Past reached out, placing a comforting hand on Scrooge's shoulder. "You can't change the past, Ebenezer. But you can make the most of the present and the future. You can continue to do good, to help others and make the world a better place. That's all that matters."

Scrooge nodded, taking comfort in Past's words. He knew that he would never be able to erase his mistakes, but he could learn from them and do better moving forward. And with the help of Past, Present, and Future, he would continue to do just that.

But there are some things that no amount of reconciliation would be able to mend. He knew that all too well.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those dark thoughts, Scrooge could only give a mirthless chuckle at that, bending down to pet the whining Prudence who had moved to sit next to him on the floor, "Shall you be staying overlong then, Past?"

They waved their hand in dismissal, "Hardly. I just came to pay you a quick visit before Present inevitably showers you with more food and wine you can handle."

"Don't remind me. I'm still struggling to empty out what they gave me last time."

Prudence barked at that, always enjoying the goodies that the cheerful giant brought to the house. It was certainly worth the confusion of guests who had no idea how her master managed to have large amounts of food prepped in such a short span of time. She was given one last pet from Past before they teleported to where the candles used to be atop the fireplace.

Before they could leave, however, Past snapped their fingers and the table they had destroyed returned to its normal state as if reversing back through time.

"Well then, toodle-oo, Scrooge! And don't forget, one of these days I am sure we will be able to persuade you to introduce us to the Cratchit family."

Scrooge sighed, as if hearing a record on repeat, "Don't count on it, Past. You know the rules."

They gave a shrug, "I know, I know. Worth a shot I guess!"

With a hearty laugh that echoed throughout the house, the form Past took crumbled away and formed back into the wax candles they used to be, leaving Scrooge to finally — finally — be able to turn in for the night.

Oh if only it were that simple for the poor old man.

#ebenezer scrooge #scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge a christmas carol #2022 scrooge #this man lives in my head rent free #Isabel/scrooge #ghost of Christmas past

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