#one day when the fog has lifted I’ll go through the chats I have with goat to see all the posts we’ve shared with each other

[bonesblubs]

Okay for … reasons… does anyone have video/audio clips that they associate with MXTX characters…

[jack-kellys]

for the fic title thing !!!!

“there are worse ways to stay alive” ORRRR

“my engine works perfect on empty (i guess i’ll drive)”

- @we-are-inevitable ✨

so im doing both bc why the fuck not

send me a fic title and i'll think up a fic!

GENUINELY my first thought for the first one is a santa clarita diet au LMAO?? i've never seen it though so technically im still original. but like jack and crutchie are roommates. jack either eats something that gets him sick or something insane like an nyc rat bites his ankle bc this is a comedy. jack starts acting... weirder, and crutchie picks up on it pretty fast bc they are 🤝. it's almost like jack has this concussive brain fog and it takes him a while to form sentences, he's talking a lot less, eating less, much more irritable. kinda of like crutchie is dealing with a moody, hungry teenager. but the night after when c's smoking on the first escape (medicinal....not medicinal... c’est la vie) jack comes out to join him and like.

"you ever get these weird, like. cravings for stuff you can't eat?"

"god yeah, i used to want to eat lava and playdough and shit like that all the–"

"like yeah, that stuff too but like...when you bite your hand and you keep biting it, you know, 'cause it's kind of squishy and like. food?"

"did. you... you did hit the joint i left out, right?"

"nah, i was just thinking, i guess.. or i've been thinking."

"fuck."

so it's Charlie's Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad time of trying to hide the fact that his best friend is now half-zombie, and especially how not to tell david jacobs, jack's boyfriend and c's longtime friend. i usually make charlie into the enigma but i think jack should be it, for fun. also i think it'd be funny if it took crutchie kinda longer to realize that what's wrong with jack is zombification specifically because honestly... jack is just like that LMAO??? he hates waking up in the morning, he's tired a lot, he has weird eating habits, makes weird noises, not a lot of perception on if he's being loud or not, zones out a lot. jack's basically halfway there already tbh. but he'd stopped creating, which is what initially tips c off.

the shenanigans of hiding it and then needing to find a cure before it's too late is just fun asf. also jack gets to literally lose his mind. haha. ha. ha. :)

now the SECOND title. lmao

~davey is pushing himself to hard againnn yeahhhhh!!!~

college au, davey has an exam coming up that he's going crazy about. hours on hours of studying, isolation, stressing, not eating as much...jack is really worried. he asks his friends what to do- some say to leave him be to get through it, some say to talk to him, and then albert dasilva says "why don't you just..kidnap him."

"what?"

"yeah, so he doesn't have access to any of his textbooks or notes or laptop, you just toss him in the car and drive."

"what is wrong with you," charlie says, but jack is nodding.

"no wait. say more rn."

so during the late night before the day before the test, it's like 3am when davey finally falls asleep at his desk, and then like. the cueing text is sent in the group chat from jack and all the besties scurry into action.

jack lifts davey into his arms, and their dorm door is opened for them silently by albert. race right next to him surgically places a sleepmask onto daveys face so the hall light doesnt wake him. romeo's holding the elevator open. mush and blink are holding the downstairs doors open. specs and crutchie drove daveys car (having stolen the keys earlier in the day of course) over, open the passenger door for davey, lower the seat, set a blanket over him, carefully close the door, and wish jack luck.

davey wakes up two hours of driving later to signs saying they're in south jersey of all fucking places. it's now the day before his test. and davey is livid.

"you kidnapped me."

"technically it was albert's idea"

"i don't see albert driving my damn car. turn around, jack, it's really not the time to be fucking funny right now."

"i'm a little insulted at you not thinking i know you well enough to do this. if i really thought you'd hate me for this, if i really thought it would- destroy your grade, or your college career, do you really think i'd be doing it?"

"maybe."

"no, sweetheart, jeez. you've studied for the past fifteen days- if you just relax, you'll make the grade, and there's no way you would've let yourself do that back on campus. so, i kidnapped you."

they spend the day together fucking around at the atlantic city boardwalk and dipping their feet into the ocean and watching the sunset before driving back. david gets a 90% on his test and maybe he wanted a 92% but he wouldn't trade grades for the world if it meant not getting kidnapped by his boyfriend and their friends. :)

[sweepseven]

Cirque du Soleil: O and KÀ viewing notes, post-pan edition!

First trip to Las Vegas since the pandemic and holy shit!! Was it a TIME. The When We Were Young festival was my excuse to be there, but I can’t set foot in that town without fitting in at least one Cirque show. I managed O and Ka and a last-second Atomic Saloon decision and oh my god did I have the visit of a lifetime. I’ll keep this post strictly to the circus shows, but like. Truly it was nuts. 

Anyway! O! I cannot overstate how happy I was to see this show again. This turned out to be my 50th ever Cirque performance and I couldn’t have asked for more. The detail most worth reporting is that according to a friend in the box office, whispers say the show is due for a refresh in January! It's been 24 years and O has never had a facelift! This is so so exciting! There's so much new technology they can integrate into the show, potentially new acts (though I can't imagine O without any one of its current acts), maybe even new music...I can't wait.

Richard MacDonald refreshed the sculpture gallery the very day I arrived in town and of course they're all incredible. He was there and apparently I just missed him when I went to pick up our tickets - too bad, I wanted to say hi!

Our performance was flawless, as always. One flyer fell during bateau but every other detail in the show went beautifully. I had three contortionists, and for some reason I am cursed to only ever see solo swinging trapeze but whatever, it was amazing regardless. The singers were going fucking hard, especially on Tzelma, and their little dance during Simcha was worth the cost of admission alone. I just love seeing them have fun. Crowd was solid, probably 75% full, which for O is more than plenty. There were nothing but empty rows behind us so my friends and I moved back a little ways so we could chat. I've never gotten to talk through an entire performance and it was such a treat hearing my friends react, ask questions, and just engage with the show with so much enthusiasm.

Last thing for O is that the day of the show I received a kind of "keep the magic going" email from Cirque offering up to 50% off LOVE and Ka, which is insane! Like, an almost alarmingly steep discount! And of course everyone likes to say both those shows are on the eternal chopping block, so I was a little 👀 about it. Still, hot tip for all: if you're seeing multiple Cirque shows in LV, maybe take the gamble on seats and wait until the day of your first, get that email, then book the others. I wouldn't expect to see an offer for a discount on O or Mystere, but worth a shot!

That said if anyone would like this offer, lmk and I'll gladly forward you the email. It's good until 12/31 and I won't be back in time to take advantage of it!

Next up was Atomic Saloon and I'll just say that show is an absolute fucking blast and if you can go, do. Fernando Miro is living his best life times a thousand. There's a dog. There's some of the most convincing physical acting I've ever ever seen, and I won't go into more detail for the sake of preserving the surprise for you. See this show. The end. Period.

So now Ka! By this point in the trip I am utterly fucking tapped. We had seen and done so so much between the shows, the festival, the partying, everything. I had the wildest nights I've ever had in that city and by that point it was all really taking its toll. So my attitude going in was very "Ka, I love you, but Jesus fucking Christ." Until then I thought it was impossible to feel disappointed that I had Cirque tickets. But I achieved it. Like that's how rough it was lol

That feeling lifted like a fog the minute the music started. I was so exhausted and out of it that I got an almost totally fresh perspective on a show I've seen now six times: it was just happening before my eyes and I was along for the ride. The boat rowed in and I was immediately transported. I forgot how much I missed this show, and watching each character go by as the stage rotated honestly felt like seeing old friends after years apart. And in a way that's exactly what happened! Watching the Chief Archer's Daughter put on her makeup so slowly and gently, the Firefly Boy sprinkling a handful of petals, the Jester eating his grapes, all of it felt as warm and welcoming as a long delayed embrace.

I'll be quick about acts for the most part: Pageant has some updated choreography that was very fun, Icarian games killed it, Storm isn't quite as fun to watch up close as it is from further back, the turtle scene was shorter and tighter (YAAAY), Pursuit was exact as tense and exciting as you could dream, batons remains perfect, idk why I can't care about that wheel of death act but I can't, and Battle was fine.

But listen!!! Kerren McKeeman as the Twin Sister is! A! Revelation! She's a phenomenal performer and utterly shines in the role. The straps act has some updates to highlight her strengths, and at one point she based the Firefly Boy in a lift and I lost my goddamn mind. Their chemistry together is unmatched, probably the best I've seen for this act. At the end she kisses him fully on the lips. Girl just goes for it. I wanted to cheer. I'll reiterate that I wanted to cheer, I who has spent thousands and thousands of words writing out the Firefly Boy entirely to make room for an impossible romance in goddamn clown fanfiction. Amazing act by amazing performers.

Other details of note: Forest has new bugs! The potato bug is BACK and badder than ever. Firefly Boy pets it like it's the family dog or something. Adorable. The snake was out tonight for some reasons, but there was a giant dragonfly-like one instead that I'd never seen before. There was also a green scorpion-ish thing that I don't think is new new but I don't recall from other viewings. The Counselor had new eyebrows - thicker and more sculpted. Both Firefly Boy and CAD had new, more extravagant costumes for the curtain call. Love Dance and Firefly Both have updated arrangements that I'm not sure I like yet: both give a more theatrical, sparkling impression but might not fit as well with the rest of the show's style. Def didn't hate either one. And did they turn up the volume on the seat speakers? Because holy shit were we rocking. The band killed it all night. The power of this show’s music cannot be overstated.

Okay, character details! Ie the most interesting part to me by a mile:

We had Tricia Woo as the Twin Sister and I completely adored her. She was so energetic and expressive and her chemistry with Peng was adorable. Specific shout out to her raw emotion as the ship sinks. She calls out the nanny's name over and over in this desperate scream, and never has that act had the impact on me that it did tonight. It made The Deep so much more powerful.

TS is visibly afraid of the Counselor's Son when he and his pops crash the function. In fact most everyone was, which was new and interesting to me. CAD isn't just perplexed by his pursuit of her, she's actively nervous of it and him. She turns from him in the Den, she startles when he touches her, and she cowers at his finale reappearance. It was a little chilling - you can’t help but wonder what he has done to get such a reputation.

Jason Biltz delivered yet another excellent turn as CS but it lacked the clarity I've seen in other performances. Tonight the character seemed to favor the path of least resistance and and tbh comes across as a master gaslighter: on multiple occasions he puts his hands up defensively as if asking "why are you so upset?" when he has clearly done something out of line, and he hunches his shoulders as though trying to appear smaller. He does appear to court CAD for 90% political reasons, but come Love Dance he looks truly heartbroken. And then later he doesn’t seem to give a remote shit that she just watched her father die right before her eyes, nor is he at all bothered by the way she's held with a literal knife to her throat. And if he’s always looking for an easy way out, why does he still protest the attack on the Imperialists at the beginning? What's the truth, Rensai, you goddamn snake??

Despite somewhat hazy motivations, Jason plays this bastard as ruthlessly, brutally passionate. It's honestly remarkable. His pride at his every entrance, the deliberate dramatics of his firepowder presentation, his restless and energetic pacing during the wheel of death’s construction, all of it makes him look like the real powder keg about to explode. And when that's exactly what happens, you can't help but feel like you should have seen it coming. I stand by my claim that almost every other singular character in this show could be written out except him: he is essential to the narrative and theme.

The first archer to try to present CAD with a gift was a WOMAN. It was something new, some weapon or something I don't know the name of. Kind of a weighted chain that she whipped around like water meteors. Regardless: BI CAD???? I lost it.

If anyone ever asks you to describe non-sexual human intimacy, show them Shadowplay. It is just desperately tender. The Court Jester tends to the Twin Brother's hand with such delicacy - he removes the bandage, of course, but then has TB hold his palms up so the jester can smooth them with his own. He passes the bandage gently over them, and the gesture is miniscule but it feels like something out of a broader practice. A way to prep TB for the shadow puppets to come while also guiding him away from the tragedy of what they just escaped and into this deliberate moment of peace and rest.

My hasty post-show notes say "TS and FB FUCK but TB and CAD are taking it slow :)" and I'm still kind of laughing about it. There's a distinct difference in the way the twins approach each of their new relationships. TS and Firefly Boy are magnetic and give the immediate impression that they can't keep their hands off each other. Meanwhile TB and CAD are very reserved - more whispers in ears, blushes, and hesitation to hold hands. It's an adorable contrast.

Noriko continues to reign supreme. She gave the most adorable, startled little sound when TB kissed her. 

Peng for president. He’s the best. He’s the best. He. 

And to cap it all off, I swear that theater was 80-90% full. Better than I’ve ever ever seen it. I was thrilled for the artists to get the recognition they deserve in a space so massive. I hope they felt the energy because what they gave to us that night was utterly electric.

All in all a wholly epic weekend. And O got to be my 50th! See ya at 100, CdS. Feeling very lucky, grateful, and verrrry tired. Back in LV in January for Mystere and hopefully LOVE. 💛💚

[thefanficmonster]

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

Corpse Husband x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Five months in and Y/N is not having such a nice time with the tenant that’s living inside her. She loves the company and wouldn’t exchange it for the whole world, but all the disadvantages are getting more annoying with each passing day. No worries, she’s not tackling it alone. Her amazing boyfriend, soon to be fiancé has her back.

Requested by Anon. Thank you so much for you request! As I mentioned in the reply, this is my first time writing a pregnancy fic so if I got anything incorrectly I sincerely apologize. I did some research but I can’t be sure I got everything right. If there’s something you’re not happy with, feel free to let me know. I’d be more than happy to fix the fic to your liking. Hope you enjoy ❤❤❤

“How are you doing, babe?“ This is his third time checking up on me in the last forty minutes and it’s downright hilarious. Since I can’t drink, for obvious reasons, I shoot my group chat a quick text to take a shot every time Corpse drops by to make sure I haven’t chewed off my own arm in frustration.

I’ve been chilling with a bun in the oven for about five and a half months now and it feels like I’m climbing a mountain that never stops getting steeper. I’ve progressively gotten more passive aggressive and cranky as though I myself am a baby. I think I’d be more aggressive and less passive if I could stand on my two legs without the room spinning right round. If I do manage to stand up, my feet won’t let me remain in that position for too long. I’ve heard foot massages help but to me that sounds like hell - I don’t like massages and especially not foot massages. I’d appreciate it if no hands came in contact with them, thank you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me, I’m not that helpless.“ I give him a reassuring thumbs up. “Go do something fun, babe. Heck, do it twice - one time on my behalf. I don’t want you stuck with me like this.“

I’ve been trying my hardest to be my regular cheery self around Corpse. He’s been nothing but sweet, supportive and loving since day one and he doesn’t deserve to see me during my low points where my frustration is through the roof. Sure, this was kind of an oopsie for the both of us, but I’ll never forget how happy he was when I told him.

“So, you say it’s mine, huh?“ He jokes like this every now and then, never failing to get a giggle out of me.

“I don’t leave the house, silly! Of course it’s yours.“ Is my usual response. And it’s true. I really don’t leave the house. I didn’t leave it before and I can’t leave it even if I wanted to now. The pregnancy is hitting me hard and I spend almost all my days in bed.

It’s not a pleasing sight and I try to spare Corpse as much as I can. I try not to ask for too much from him, or from anyone really. I know I can do most of the things, if not everything, on my own, so why bother my loved ones to have to deal with my messy self.

“I’m not stuck, Y/N. I want to be here.“ He sits down next to me, “Plus, playing video games without you isn’t fun.“

I automatically cuddle up to him when he gets settled on the bed, resting my head on his chest, “Aw I miss play with you. But right now all of my little bit of energy is concentrated on not falling over whenever I stand up.” I start absentmindedly tracing abstract patterns on his chest, “Who knew that in order to develop a human you lose the ability to function as human yourself? I feel like a whale washed up on land. Big, tired and sad.”

He snorts, restraining his laughter just in case it might piss me off. He’s such a sweetheart, but he should know it would take a lot for him to piss me off. Even in this state. “How can I help? I’d do anything, you just tell me what. Maybe a mass-...” I lift my head to give him the well known finish-that-sentence-I-dare-you glare. “Maybe not...”

Suddenly, I feel pressure on both my temples. It’s not yet pain, but I know it will get there soon. I cringe as I force myself to remove my hand from Corpse’s chest, reaching towards the nightstand where there’s always Advil and at least two small bottles of water. I swallow one pill and chase it with a long gulp of water, making a mental note to take another if the pain doesn’t go away in 30-40 minutes.

“You know how you can help me?“ I say, carefully adjusting my position so the both of us are comfortable, “Distract me. Talk to me. Tell me how you see the future with this misfit that’s already giving me headaches.“

He chuckles, the noise vibrating throughout his chest. I can hear the speed on his heartbeat change - it has quickened. I can only write that off as excitement when he speaks: “I don’t think the headaches will go away. I have a frightening feeling they’re just gonna get worse. A lot more sleeplessness, but a lot less vomiting. A lot more standing up and walking around. A lot more smiles and laughter. More of our friends at out house. Who am I kidding? Rae alone will invade the entire house just to spend time with the baby. You and I be damned.”

I find myself visualizing every detail he describes, all the pictures so vivid and so realistic. A smile spreads on my face as I let myself get transported into Corpse’s version of the future. To be honest, his version is almost the exact same as mine, “If she’s so occupied with the baby, maybe we’ll be able to dip out for a date night every now and then. We may be parents, but we’re not even in our mid-twenties yet.” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second, “I now regret not leaving the house more often while I could, you know?”

“Oddly enough, I do too. I feel like I haven’t taken you on enough proper dates. We didn’t seen enough of the world while we had zero responsibilities, it almost feels like it’s too late now.“

I frown, sitting up to be at eye level with him. I gently rest my hand on his cheek, making sure he doesn’t try to avoid eye contact. “Listen here: Fuck the date nights and fuck the responsibilities. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a single room if you’re there with me.” I think for a second. Deciding not to make the conversation too serious, I add, “That is if we have food and water. Wouldn’t want you to turn into a cannibal on me.”

He smiles, “I’d never and you know it.” I’m aware his response refers to both halves of my statement, putting my mind at ease.

Having sent my message across and having it well received, I sink back down in my previous position. His hand travels to my hair, his fingers combing through it carefully and sweetly, giving me that feeling of being in a bubble of love and safety. His touch has the ability to calm me down, comfort me, encourage me. He is my guiding light through the fog that represents the confusion from all the pain and exhaustion I’ve been suffering through recently. I know those bad sensations will pass, but the power he has over me is forever.

Him and I are forever. Well, Him and I and a new addition in the next four months.

“I love you so much, Y/N.“ He whispers, cutting through the comfortable silence.

“I love you too, Corpse.“ I whisper back.

“I hope our baby is like you. I hope it’ll be smart like you. Talk like you, act like you, look like you.“ He trails of, his voice wavering.

“I hope it’ll sound like you.“ I say mischievously, hiding my smirk in the fabric of his shirt

He laughs, “Sure, unless it’s a girl.”

“Are you kidding me?“ I giggle, “Especially if it’s a girl.“

His laughter rings in my ears, reminding me there’s always gonna be something to hold onto when you’re in pain. Be it his laughter, his touch, the look in his eyes. I’ll always have him there to relieve my pain. To take my mind off all my troubles. To love me.

And for me to love him right back.

Unconditionally. Completely. Infinitely.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[mendesblurb]

Showers

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: tiny bit of SMUT, mostly fluff and comedy, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

It was one of those days after a long day of working as the tour’s main photographer besides Connor; when you suddenly decide to take a shower with your secret boyfriend as a way to unwind together.

It wasn’t because you were embarrassed of Shawn, honestly he have been nothing but kind and loving to you. But the two of simply weren’t ready to make this relationship public.

The perfect temperature hot water poured down over you and steam started to fog the hotel bathroom mirror. Your hands explored his chest as he kissed you long and slow.

Drops of warm water trickled down your back, tickling your skin. You moaned when he began kissing your neck.

He then began to leave kisses along the edge of your hipbone as his fingers worked you through you. When you opened your eyes again, he quickly rose to his feet and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.

You moved to return the favour, but he quickly stopped you. “I need you,” he groaned, his face buried in the crook of your neck again.

He proceeds to lift one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist. His arms circled around your torso, locking you into place as he aligned himself with your entrance.

You were lost in each other as the warm water hit your shoulders and Shawn began to built up a steady rhythm that made both of you feel all kinds of pleasure.

Before any of you could do anything more, the bathroom door opened and closed quickly. Shawn grimaced when the sound forced him to stop. Can he just have one peaceful moment with his girlfriend without anyone interrupting him?

“Shawn, it’s me. Mind if we talk?” Brian asked.

Shawn looked at you, his eyes instantly going wide and you briefly wondered if yours were as wide as his.

“You didn’t lock the door?” you hissed under your breath.

“I thought I did.” You hit his chest, it made a small splashy sound. “Your fault, your kisses were simply distracting,” he whispered back before he raised his voice, “Kind of in the middle of something, Brian. Can you wait?”

You heard Brian sigh before he said, “Shawn this urgent.”

There was a minute of complete silence before you whispered in Shawn’s ear. “It’s okay, talk to him.”

Shawn told Brian to go on before he looked at you and mouthed an apology. You eased his worried with a kiss.

You heard Brian close the lid of the toilet seat and sit down. His voice quivered as he drew a tense breath.

Brian talked about that he wants to know who is your secret boyfriend. He felt like he should play the big brother role for you as you were the youngest member of the main Squad. This very moment was just the definition of sweet and funny for you.

Shawn on the other hand was conflicted. He wanted to just laugh and tell Brian the truth but not like this, and right now the water was getting cold and you were shivering.

“The water’s gettin’ cold, Brian. Can you wait for me in the lobby? I won’t be long,” Shawn said while wrapping his arms tighter around you, but you were still shivering.

“This a serious matter Shawn, Y/N has a secret boyfriend.” He let out a small laugh. “Anyway, Just get out Shawn. Don’t mind me.”

“Why does everyone want to talk to me today?” Shawn whispered in your ear. “I’m so sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

“I’m kinda C-Cold,” you stuttered and he pulled you closer to his warm body again.

“I know, honey, I’m so sorry.” He took a deep breath and said to Brian, “Can you wait in the lobby?”

“C’mon, Shawn,” Brian sighed, “I’ve seen you naked before.”

You raised your head to look at Shawn. His face was a bright shade of red by now. “It was one time!” he said loudly, seemingly talking to Brian, but looking at you in the eye the whole time. “It was only because our parents forced us to take bath together when we were five years old, everything has changed you know.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Brian said through a chuckle. “Are you coming out or not?”

“Yeah, Shawn, are you going to come?” you whispered in his ear, rolling your hips. He then let out a low moaned as he met your thrust.

“What’s that noise?” Brian asked. “Are you jerking off?”

Shawn couldn’t reply, he was trying to keep his moans as low as possible. He failed miserably when you kept teasing him.

“Oh, my God! You are jerking off. Sorry, bro.”

Shawn immediately pulled out of you, blinking away the bright colours that swayed before his eyes while you muffled a giggle against his chest.

“Everyone masturbates, Shawn. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Brian said very seriously and it only made you laugh harder.

“Stop laughing, he’s gonna hear us,” Shawn hissed before he raised his voice. “Some privacy please! Jeez, Brian!”

“Just make sure you clean everything after, uh I’ll wait in the lobby,” Brian said awkwardly and left the bathroom.

Shawn then immediately took a towel from the rack and put it around your body, “You were jacking off, huh? Who were you thinking about?” You teased making him roll his eyes. 

“You’re lucky that I love you or embarrassing myself like that wouldn’t be so goddamn worth it,” He sighed and pulled you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist: @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @shawn-is-bruh @shawn-is-vava @perfectlywrongsm @imaginashawnns @whenyoureadyholland @benito-mi-vida @lonelyreputation @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @shawn-youth @camilalewiss @shawnftchris @swiftmendeshoran @myboyshawnie @badreputationlove @particularnarry

[kinnards]

been here all along [fic]

Or; there are traces of Buck all over the Diaz household. 1.8 k

Read on ao3

The coffee maker beeps in the kitchen, the sound carrying all the way into the bedroom the second after Eddie turns off his alarm. A cool breeze comes in through the window Eddie left open last night by mistake, and in the couple steps it takes to go from the bed to the door, Eddie has picked up at least six different clothing items, not even all his, from the floor and the chair in the corner that soon gets tossed into the laundry basket. He stops briefly by Christopher’s room to make sure his son is awake (he’s not, and a cranky five more minutes is heard from under the covers) before going into the bathroom to start his own morning routine.

The bright, red firetruck print that greets him has never failed to make him smile, not once ever since one particular Thursday, maybe two years ago now, when Christopher and Buck spent a couple of hours in the mall looking for a birthday present for one of Chris’s friends but bought a very much not needed set of shower curtains instead, along with matching firetruck soap dispenser and cup. They even have little firefighters painted in the tiny plastic windows, and Christopher might be almost twelve now, but the day he gets tired of his Buck’s gift is yet to come.

A month into the school year, the Diaz family’s mornings have looked mostly the same every day, and this fine Monday proves not to be the exception, as Eddie finds out a few minutes later. A certain blond man is still asleep on Eddie’s couch, and instead of doing his workout, Christopher is sprawled on top of him, snoring lightly. Buck’s legs are twisted in an awkward angle to fit in the couch and one of his hands brushes the fluffy carpet beneath the sofa (the one he picked in an attempt to convince Eddie that his house needed personality), the other holding onto Chris, whose face is completely smushed against the other’s shoulder. Bright blue crutches that Chris has started to grow out of lay in a disorganized pile next to them.

(If Eddie’s heart beats a little bit faster- if his hands itch to hold them too and join the sleepy pile, well. They don’t need to know.)

“Alright, sleepy heads, school starts in an hour! Get up!”

-

Eddie owns a perfectly functional coffee maker, a classic machine with only one button and no special features, that makes his coffee the same way every day, and has done so for almost five years without signs of obsolescence. He’s a simple man with simple tastes, but Eddie’s perfect, simple coffee maker, is currently collecting dust inside a box in the attic.

A steaming cup of coffee, however, is waiting for him on the counter when he steps into the kitchen, complete with milk foam, a shot of caramel, and two sugars: the product of the stupidly expensive machine Buck and Chris had plotted to get him, with all the smart features and Starbucks level settings that Eddie did not need. Using the machine is extremely complicated, too, so once Eddie found out how to input the settings for his drink of choice, he stopped allowing anyone to mess with it. Eddie drinks the sweet concoction religiously every morning, without a fault.

He sips on his sugar bomb slowly as Buck cooks breakfast, eggs, and sausages with toast, fruit salad, and a cup of warm milk for the only kid in the house. The sound of the sizzling pan and the knife hitting the cutting board fills the room along with the smell of homemade breakfast, something that screams of home and family, uninterrupted until Christopher shows up fresh from the shower and in clean clothes, with his restless morning energy and promptly sets to chatting their ears off. Buck keeps the conversation alive and gets the boy to help with mixing the fruit salad while he recounts the last episode of their favorite cartoon they had seen together the previous night. Buck makes surprised sounds at the right times, throwing a few "No way! Tell me more!" for good measure, even though Eddie’s pretty sure he remembers the episode perfectly as he asks the right questions to launch Christopher off in another direction at least three times.

Eddie finishes his coffee, leaves the cup in the sink, and turns to the cupboard to start setting the table.

Three days before school started, Christopher told Eddie that he’s big enough to use big people knives and after a long phone call with his son’s Occupational Therapist, and another with his own therapist, they had gone to the store to get him a cutlery set that could allow him more independence while still on the safer side, and Buck had found the perfect one: the knife has a blunt tip and slightly serrated edge, and a round plastic handle decorated with tiny green and blue dinosaurs.

“Daddy, don’t forget the dinosaurs, please,” Christopher asks politely, just like every day, because he refuses to eat with any other fork or knife. Luckily the set came with six of each, so everyone can use them during breakfast as Christopher prefers.

“Yeah, and don’t forget the big spoon for the fruit salad,” Buck chips in, pointedly looking at Eddie. Clearly, he still hasn’t let go of the last few times he has forgotten the big spoon for the fruit salad. In less than five minutes, they’re seated around the table eating, Christopher’s feet kicking excitedly against Eddie’s when they congratulate him for the A he got in his latest science assignment.

Both his son and best friend clear their plates first, smiles on their faces accompanied by crinkled eyes as they laugh. Eddie has to scold Chris on talking with his mouth full only once- a new record, and Buck only twice, tapping him on the hand with the spoon, reminding him to lead by example and not be a terrible influence on the kid. Buck mumbles a sheepish sorry every time, ducking his head in embarrassment, and Eddie just rolls his eyes and shoots him a fond look. He watches them, joins the laughter when Buck teases him, or when Christopher tells a story from school, warmth filling him up from the inside out.

Soon enough, the time’s up and Christopher goes to brush his teeth and get ready to leave while Eddie and Buck load the dishwasher and wipe the countertops, barely any words exchanged as they move around the kitchen. Eddie checks the calendar by the fridge, next to Christopher’s old artwork and the polaroids held up by fruit magnets. PT at 11 am, Frank’s at 3 pm, reads in the bold block letters of Buck’s handwriting, under Eddie’s own scribble of C’s swimming lessons at 3.30 pm. Eddie makes a face at the overlapping schedule, chews on the inside of his cheek. He’s too late to ask Carla to take Christopher for him, as he gave her the week off a few days ago so she could go to DC for a certification. The last few therapy sessions had been at noon, but PT was pushed up to eleven and so his entire schedule was unexpectedly messed up, and Eddie will have to run from the clinic to Christopher’s school and then take him to the pool, but he’s not cleared to drive yet so he has to account for cab ride expenses and a whole new timeframe now, too. God, he should have gotten this figured out yesterday.

Back in El Paso, when Eddie had worked three jobs, he had once forgotten to pick Christopher up at school because his shift ran longer than usual, his phone died and the teachers were unable to reach him at the construction site. His parents had been called instead, being the second emergency contacts, and they had stared him down later at night while they told him all the reasons he was a bad dad and Christopher should live with them. Don’t drag him down with you, Eddie.

A hand lands on his healthy shoulder, right next to the base of his neck, and Eddie looks away from the calendar to meet a pair of bright blue eyes next to him. Buck watches him for a second before opening his mouth, careful.

“Hey, Eds, I noticed today looks a bit tight and I was thinking I could ask Bobby to let me out for an hour so I can go pick Chris up and drive him to his lessons, or maybe ask Maddie if I’m on a call,” he says, and the knots in his throat slowly start to dissolve, as he stares up to his friend’s calm face. His shoulders slowly start to relax, the injured one pulses with pain. The warmth of Buck's fingers makes the little hairs on his nape stand up as he swipes his thumb twice over the patch of uncovered skin in a comforting gesture.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Eddie chokes out.

Buck smiles, and it’s all it takes. The fog lifts.

“Sure, I’ll text you in case I can’t make it so you can let the school know Mads is going to get him,” Buck continues, but he’s not touching Eddie anymore. Eddie takes a small step back, fidgets with the dishrag he still had in his hands as Buck starts to make his way to the living room, picking up his jacket, “you get to pick him up after, and already I left you guys some leftover stew for tonight's dinner in the fridge," Eddie keeps his eyes on Buck while he talks, takes a few steps closer to his friend, but not close enough. "I have a sixteen-hour today, so you tell Christopher goodnight for me, alright?”

“Of course,” his voice is too tight, and it must show because Buck bites his lip and reaches out his hand again, but doesn’t touch. At that moment Christopher burst back into the living room and yells out as if Buck isn’t right there to hear him.

“I’m ready, Buck!”

With a last smile, Buck turns to the door, putting on his shoes quickly and pulling his bag out of the hallway closet. Eddie leans down to place a smooch on his son’s cheek, which makes him laugh, and throw his head back with a loud “Bye, dad!” in his ear.

“Alright buddy, let’s go, let’s go!” Buck exclaims and Christopher bolts out the door, followed by his Buck, and Eddie stays at the threshold until he can’t see the Jeep past the corner of the street.

It’s barely eight o’clock and he still has chores to get done before PT, but Eddie just drops facefirst into the heap of blankets on top of the couch, drowning in the smell of his family and he aches for the picture he saw earlier that morning, sleep falling slowly over him like another blanket. A short nap is calling his name from the dream world, and the last thing he sees before going under is his pillbox for the pain meds next to a bottle of water, a pink post-it note stuck on the tag, big bold letters were carefully written on it. I know you forget but please take these before leaving home! xx. Buck.

Eddie falls.

[ozarkthedog]

Dirty Game: Repercussion

Summary: Andy punishes you for making him late.

Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dom!Daddy!Andy, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Asphyxiation, Bondage, Size Kink. 

Word Count: 2,104

Author Notes: Follow up to Dirty Game. What can I say? Andy has taken over my life.

*Yet again another entry for @jtargaryen18​ #30DaysofChris2020 Challenge*

No Beta!

Reblogs and Likes are amazing! Feedback and comments are encouraged!

The mid-day BBQ was lively as Andy eyes you sitting on the decorative rock wall, squirming slightly in discomfort from your still wet panties. That was the problem, once you started to get heated it never went away. The wetness a constant reminder of what’s the come. Andy smirked to himself, loving the way you look so uncomfortable just sitting there in your own mess. 

He wrapped his arm around you, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. Anyone glancing over would think it was a sweet moment between husband and wife. What they couldn’t hear was the little threats of what Andy was going to do to you that night. You tried your best to keep a straight face but as he whispered what was to come you couldn’t help but bite your lip. 

 “Little Girl, you pulled quite the stunt back home. You’re lucky we had some place to be or I would’ve taken you right then on the stairs. Hard.” You outright whimpered when his hand gave your shoulder a nice squeeze to emphasize his point.

 “I’m going to torture that sweet pussy of yours once we get home. All. Night. Long.”

 You closed your legs tightly not trusting yourself to not make a mess down your legs at his crude words. Clasping your hands together over your lap wanting nothing more than to touch yourself. 

 “Your pussy is going to be so sensitive and swollen by the time I’m through.”

 Your breath hitches at his final threat. Andy sweetly kisses your temple and then gets up to go chat with his fellow colleagues leaving you there to contemplate the events to come.

 Sometime later...

 “Do not even think about cumming.” Andy’s stern voice cut through the blissful haze that was fogging your brain making it harder to listen to his commands.

Sweat trickles down your chest, leaving wet lines between your naked breasts. Muscles ache from overexertion, tight and rigid, waiting to fly off the peak that was just held out of reach.

When you arrived home from the party, Andy deemed “Edging” a suitable punishment, “You made us late today, so I think it’s only far that I make you wait to cum.” He pressed the Hitachi Wand into your hands as he told you to get comfortable on the bed, “You’ve got a long night in store for you, Little Girl.”

Now, you’re a panting, begging mess with your legs tied at your ankles, spread eagle to each bed leg. Arousal soaks your inner thighs and the bed spread below all while Andy stands over you at the foot of the bed, thoroughly enjoying the way your body looks teetering on the edge. Absolutely wreaked.

It’s been well over 1 hour now of torturous edging and you knew your body couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Up the speed.” Andy says sharply, his dark blue eyes possessively hold steady on yours. He smirks when you let out loud whimper, fresh tears slip down your cheeks, mixing with the stains of older ones.

You click the button up to the 4th speed. The vibe moves faster, 1 away from the highest, beating against your swollen pussy, instantly sending you to the edge of your peak. You break eye contact with Andy forcing your eyes shut as your body tenses up. Sucking in a huge breath you desperately shout out, “Daddy! I can’t. I ca-” as the words get caught in your throat you careen off the edge of the cliff. Slick spills from your sensitive pussy as you scream out your well-deserved release.

Once you float back down to earth from the mind shattering orgasm, you notice how quiet the room is. A gasp rips from your throat as you whip your eyes open and look upon Andy. He rubs his hand over his beard as his jaw clenches with irritation. You wince feeling the wave of displeasure roll off of him at your lack of obedience.

He silently shakes his head as he walks around to the right side of the bed. Rummaging around in his side table draw before brandishing a set of police grade handcuffs.

The Wand is ripped from your hands as he harshly binds your wrists in the cold steel cuffs. His voice drips with authority and anger as takes your jaw in a punishing grip, “I thought I was clear. You were not allowed to cum until I said so.”

Your bottom lip trembles in shame as you try to apologize, but Andy wasn’t hearing any of it. His grip tightens as he growls, “Don’t. Not another word out of you.”

Suddenly, the hand holding your jaw grabs your bound wrists and pulls you into a sitting position. Andy sits behind you, caging you in with his arms and legs as he makes you rest against his expansive chest. His breathing is slow and steady, he’s fully in control now, there’s no escaping him.

Leaning his head down to your shoulder, he switches between sweet kisses and sharp nips as he makes his way up your neck. You would’ve laughed since his beard always tickles your neck, but you didn’t want to upset him even more.

“Since you couldn’t follow my one command, I’ll make sure you follow my next one.” He whispers ominously as he takes your arms and lifts them high up over your head to hang around the back of his neck. Your fingers seek out the comfort of his soft hair but dig into his shirt suddenly when you notice Andy reaching for the Wand.

Instinct makes you move, wanting to escape whatever it is he has in store for you, but he’s quick with his left arm wrapping around your torso, easily stopping your movements.

“Look at me.” Andy angles his head a bit more to the side so you can lock eyes.

“Listen very carefully now, Little Girl… You are free to cum.” The smirk should’ve told you this wouldn’t be fun, but you were too anxious to notice.

Andy clicks the Wand on, setting it to the highest speed. You instinctively try to reach out to stop him from using that speed knowing just how painful it would be, but your hands are stopped short, locked around his neck. Andy shakes your torso slightly as he chastises you with a dismissive “tut”.

“You think you have control, Little Girl. Remember, you’re the one tied up and spread open like a wanton whore while a man twice her size takes advantage of her.” He snarls out as he lowers the wand to your pussy, making you yelp loudly from the intensity of the vibrations.

You fight against the binds, struggling with all your might while Andy holds the Wand down on your swollen pussy. He chuckles darkly in the hollow of your neck, “Come on, you weren’t fighting this hard to not cum before.”

The slick from your first orgasm made the wand slide over your clit with ease, sending shocks of painful pleasure up your spine. You scream as Andy forces an orgasm out of you, feeling your body tighten up and then go slack against his. “There we go. Good Girl.” His praise was only slightly heard as you were trying to catch your breath. The vibrations didn’t stop once your orgasm hit, he left the wand securely in place.

Andy sucks freely at your neck, moaning from the taste of your skin. “That was 1. Let’s see how many more I can force out of you.” He smiles into your skin as you start to thrash, your body coming back to life fighting against the intense stimulation he’s forcing upon you.

You try to clench your thighs closed, but it was useless with your ankles being tied. Never the less, Andy saw your attempt and wove his legs between yours, stretching them open even further, “Don’t be silly. You’re not going to stop me from getting what I want.”

Your hips were spread so wide, the ache was unbearable. Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you felt another wave of pleasure spark to life. You choke back the tears as Andy’s voice distracts you, “Ahh, there it is. It’s starting to feel good again, huh, Little Girl?”

His arm lifts from your torso to palm each breast with fervor. He plucks at your nipples and slaps them roughly causing you to convulse and gasp out as the added sensations cause you to hit your peak once again.

A harsh cry cuts through the heavy air in the bedroom as your body ignites. Strong shocks pepper your skin as your feet pull at the binds hard, toes curl in on themselves as the wand keeps vibrating.

You gather enough coherency to shake your head, the words come out a jumbled mess, “Plea- …Ah! No-… No mor- AH!” Andy slaps the right side of your face with his left hand, then grabs your jaw digging his fingers into your cheeks, hushing your pleas, “You brought this on yourself, so be good and take it.” Your cheek throbs as you felt his deep voice reverberate through your back and into your bones.

Andy slides his hand down the column on your throat, lying in wait for you to slip up and rubs the wand around your pussy, nestling it against your opening, eliciting a deep moan from you. You grab the hair at the base of his neck, pulling hard. Andy groans out and retaliates by sliding his hand down to your mound and exposes your clit to the wand. A shrill scream fills the room as you feel the strong vibrations beat against your clit sending you right over your peak. White light explodes behind your eyes as your body goes ridged and you cum for the third time that night.

You shriek trying to shake the wand and Andy off of you. His voice is menacing as he assaults your clit with the wand, “You’re going to cum again. I don’t care if you pass the fuck out. I want one more orgasm.”

A frantic weep is all you reply with. Your body was shutting down from the torture. You notice your feet were turning a slight reddish color from the bindings and your pussy was starting to go numb from the vibrations. There was no way you’d be able to cum again, you were slowly dismantling.

Shaking your head, you whimper out between tears, “Daddy, I can’t.”

Andy brushes back some sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, “Yes, you can. Let Daddy help.”

Andy releases his hold on your mound letting your clit hood go back in place. You sigh contentedly as it gives you some relief from the wand. Your eyes go wide as his hand reaches your face, settling over your mouth and nose, trapping what little air you had left inside your lungs.

You squirm against his hold as his large hand easily covers half of your face exerting his power over you. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to suck in a desperate breath, lungs start to burn as your chest convulses fighting for air.

His pinky slides beneath your chin caging you in even more, “Don’t fight it.”

You will your body to listen and relax, but your lungs burn whilst your heart rate escalates even higher. Muscle fibers on the edge on snapping while you pull at both arm and leg bindings. The wave of pleasure starts to take over exactly when you notice the black spots dot your eyesight.

“Cum… Cum right now.” Andy releases his hold on your face allowing you to suck in the precious air that catapults you into one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Andy wraps his arm back around your body as you convulse and shudder in his grip. His legs hold yours to the bed as you jerk harshly from the onslaught of pleasure.

Your body’s numb while your brain fogs over with haze. You slump against Andy, the orgasm finally leaving your system. Little shocks ignite your body every so often as you come down from your peak making you jolt in Andy’s arms.

He brings your arms down to lay on your belly as he whispers praise, “Such a Good Girl.” You stare up at him with glazed eyes, sleep threatens to take hold any minute, but you want to make sure you made him happy. “Daddy, Happy?”

Andy chuckles, “Yes, Daddy happy.” He kisses your forehead as your eyes flutter shut, “You listened so well, Little Girl. Daddy is very happy.”

[bokukawas]

Drunken Mess

pairing; Kuroo Tetsuro  x Reader

warnings; alcohol, suggestive in the end, some grabbing from some random stranger

a/n; ok guys, enjoy, this took me forever to write and idk, i just hope someone here likes it ♥

summary; when you have a shitty day and then your boyfriend presses all the wrong buttons upon his return , you just need a little alcohol to keep your sanity… and maybe have a drink too much

word count; 6k, I actually planned to keep this short. WELL HUH jokes on me, right? 

The only thing that got you through the day was the thought, that when you came home later, your boyfriend would be back from his training camp with his team. Because, seriously, today had sucked. You had to take a double shift at work, because a colleague had called in sick and all the customers had just been annoying and rude. You had expected working in retail to suck, but compared to the reality your imagination was a fucking dream come true. Retail was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. And no one could truly understand it if they haven’t worked in retail at least once in their life.

By the time you could clock out, you were nearly crying from frustration. You were so eager to see Kuroo and leave your work; you nearly ran the whole way home.

When you finally arrived home, you could already see light seep out from under the door, which meant he actually was home already. Your heart made an involuntarily somersault as you pushed the door open and yelled “I’m home!” with a huge smile plastered on your face. You had missed him terribly. Yet instead of your boyfriends loving arms around you, you just found the mess he somehow managed to produce in less than a day. Your smile slipped just as fast as it had appeared. “Kuroo, what the actual fuck!?” No answer to that.

You could see him, lying on the couch, one leg slung over the back of it, controller in one hand, a piece of pizza in the other, headset on his head, while he cackled. He didn’t even seem to hear you. And damn it stung. You waited the whole day with dinner so you could eat together with your boyfriend. And not only that, you had cleaned the whole house before he returned, so you could just relax together once he was back, hell, you even dumped your friends who wanted to go out and have a girls night, and this was how it turns out?

With watering eyes, you inspected the spectacular mess in front of you. Eyes flicking from the kitchen, where he obviously already made ramen before he ordered pizza, to the living room where the whole content of his sports bag seems to just have been dumped on the floor. Then to the bathroom, where the door was open and showed the still wet tiles and a towel carelessly thrown in the middle of it, fog still clinging to the mirror, because he once again had not opened the goddamn window.

In that moment all you could feel inside of you, was burning anger and huge disappointment. It was not the first time you had asked him to just please be a little bit more considerate of you. Why didn’t he fucking get it? The damn flat didn’t magically clean itself; it was all you who did it. The mess he made in literally only a few hours felt like a punch in the face.

Clenching your fist, you angrily throw your bag into the mess he already made, which seemed to finally get his attention. Head popping up from the couch, he pulled down his headset a bit and looks over to you: “Oh hey kitten, didn’t hear you come home.”

“Yeah never mind”, you spit, “continue your thing there, I’m gonna be gone soon anyways.”

You slip out of your sneakers, phone already in your hand to call one of your friends.

“S’ something wrong, kitten?” Kuroo sets down his headset, mustering you with concern in his eyes. Obviously something was wrong, but his brain still felt foggy with exhaustion from all the training he had pushed himself and his team through this week.

The answer came in the slamming of the bedroom door, where you had disappeared.

He sighs and briefly puts his headset back on to give his friends a heads up: “Guys, I’ll be back later, seems like somethings wrong with Y/N”, then he left the game and stood up, slowly walking to your shared bedroom, before he tentatively knocks on the door.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Did something happen at work? Are you alright?” Upon not getting an answer, he pushed down the latch, only to find that you had locked the door. He silently swears. It had to be bad when you actually locked him out. “C’mon hun, don’t be like that. Talk to me.” Door rattling followed, which you blatantly ignore.

You were sitting on the bed, which was, of fucking course, not made any more and stripped out of your work clothes, throwing them carelessly on the floor. The damage was already done, what bad could your few clothes be then, right?

It was then, that Miwa finally picked up. “Oh hey, Y/n, whats up? I thought you were having some quality time with Kuroo?” You could hear loud voices talking in the back; she must have gone outside to answer your call.

“Yeah you know what? I thought so, too. Plan has changed, though. Where are you? Mind if I join you? I need a drink.”

“Are you alright, Y/n? You sound a little upset?”

“Miwa, for god’s sake, just tell me where you are so I can join you. I’m going to explode if I stay here any minute longer.”

You could hear Miwa sigh into the phone. “That bad, huh? We’re at our usual place.”

“Good, I’ll be there in twenty.” You hang up and throw your phone into the pillow and start rummaging through your closet, finding one of the dresses you like very much, but never actually wear, because it is actually very short. Well, fuck it, you think to yourself and put it on, together with your new high heels. Quickly freshening up your smudged make-up, you grab your keys and your clutch and brace yourself for your escape. Because that was exactly what you were doing: escaping from this whole mess.

Then, you unlock the door and push it open, marching straight for the door, which was, of course, blocked by your boyfriend, who was leaning against it and now eyeing you from head to toe. He probably had heard you talk to Miwa and taken his position at the door right away. He did not comment on your outfit though, having the good sense to know he was walking on very thin ice.

“Going somewhere?”

“I’m going out with my friends. At least I would like to, but someone is standing in the way. Do you mind?” You look up at him and give him one of your perfect angelic smiles as you try to squeeze through. Even though you were wearing your heels, your boyfriend was a goddamn giant and he somehow managed to still be taller, which was mildly frustrating at the moment.

He does not budge; not even an inch.

“Are we not going to talk about what is going on? Because something clearly is going on.”

“I’d actually rather go right now.”

Kuroo could basically feel the passive aggressive energy radiating from you, but still, he didn’t budge. He didn’t even have the chance to talk to you yet, what could he possibly have done to upset you so much that you could not even stand to be in the same room as him? It was a mystery to him.

“Y/n, please.” He reaches out a hand to brush a thumb against your cheek, because he knows how much you always enjoy these little affectionate gestures, but he stops right in his tracks, when he found you staring at him with barely withhold anger. He was surprised that you did not swat at his still outstretched hand.

“Move Kuroo, I mean it.” And when you try to squeeze through this time, he lets you.

You were rarely in such a bad mood and he knew when he needed to let you cool off, first. As you walk by him, he catches your wrist in the last second, holding you still for a moment. “At least send me a text when you get there, alright?” he whispers while brushing his thumb once over your veins and then lifting your hand up to press a soft kiss against the palm of it.

The urge to just turn around and press your head into your boyfriends’ chest right then was overwhelming, but you were still so mad that you stubbornly continued on your way, leaving Kuroo standing there, watching you go.

When he turns around to go back into the flat, he feels like a train hit him as he takes in the mess he made. “Oh fuck.” He groans as he ruffles his spiky hair, because how could he be so stupid. Of course you would be mad if you came home to such a mess. The worst part was, that he didn’t even contain his chaos in one room, no, he seriously fucked up the whole flat, which by second thought, you had probably cleaned just hours before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your foul mood suddenly made sense to him. Groaning again, he closes the door behind him and goes to the kitchen. He better gets rid of this whole mess before you come home later. But first, he wants to apologize. Fishing out his phone out of his joggers, he opens the chat with you and freezes all over again. There it was, black on white. Dinner later, Tetsu? We can order from your fav restaurant if you like ♥

Oh sweet fucking hell, he was the biggest douche in the whole wide world. How could he forget that you two wanted to eat together? “Ah shit.”

He types out a quick message to you. Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m the biggest idiot in the world. You can punch me later if you still feel like it. I sure as hell deserve it. Pls text me when you get there safely. I love you.

Kuroo really wants to kick his own ass in that moment. You were always so good to him, going out of your way to make the time you got to spend together as pleasurable as possible, taking time where you actually had none to spare and just simply spoiling him in any way possible and this was how he treated you? He didn’t even kiss you when you got home, which was funny, because it was one of the only thoughts in his head, besides volleyball this whole past week. The feeling of your soft lips against his.

He was not surprised that he didn’t get a message back, but he still unmuted his phone, just in case you called him when you had enough and wanted to go home.

Then he starts cleaning up his mess.

You on the other hand nearly arrived at the bar where you and your friends usually met up once a month to keep in touch. You already regretted wearing your new heels. As you turned the next corner, you could already spot the bar and with it, a whole lot of people standing outside at high tables. Your friends amongst one of them.

“Hey ladies”, you call out as you get closer. “Long time no see.”

Fighting a smile to your face, you found your place right next to Miwa, who gently nudges you in the side.

“Stop that grimace and tell us what happened.”

Alisa, who was standing in front of you, just reaches over the table, takes your hand in hers and squeezes it softly.

“Actually, I think I’d rather have a drink first”, you moan.

One drink followed the next and your friends realized later, that they probably should have stopped you after your 5th cocktail or so. Which they didn’t, because you spilled your heart out to them, nearly crying a few times, which was rare to see, because usually you managed to keep your cool in front of others, even your own friends. Moreover, the drink in your hand seemed to be the only thing holding you together. They were a little taken aback, too, because you usually were a very good drinker, and could handle alcohol very well; but by the time you went inside to dance and just bumped into stranger after stranger while trying to walk a straight line, they figured you probably had not eaten anything before coming here.

Miwa squinched up her face. “She’s gonna feel even worse tomorrow. We should probably get her home.”

Alisa just nods, before sprinting in your direction as she witnessed you tumbling into a group of men, of which one luckily caught you in his arms, before you hit the floor, but then couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You just laughed, not realizing what was going on and not feeling the hand, currently sneaking up your leg. Everything looked dizzy and swayed and you felt a little funny in the head. Vaguely you realize that Alisa was arguing with the man who stopped your fall and then her face popped up in front of you, asking you were your phone was.

You look at her irritated, not quite understanding what she wanted.

“C’mon y/n, where is your goddamn phone.”

“My clutch?”

Miwa suddenly popped up next to you, steadying you and gently guiding you to an abandoned empty chair. “Sit.”

Alisa rummaged through your clutch, only to find your purse and your house keys…but no phone.

“Your phone is not in here y/n. Are you sure it was in your clutch?” she looks at you questioningly, with her big green eyes, which were all you could focus on. She always looks so pretty.

„Focus y/n!“

You thought back to when you left the flat… “I think I …left it on the bed”, you mumble, eyes suddenly growing very heavy. Leaning heavily against Miwa, your head lolls against her shoulder. You inhale deeply. Miwa always managed to smell so good; you wonder how she does it. The girls just shared a concerned look. You couldn’t even sit upright on that damn chair, how were they supposed to get you home.

“We need to call Kuroo”, Miwa states, while brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You didn’t seem to notice.

“That was my plan. But I don’t have his number… do you?” Miwas face was answer enough. That’s when Saeko popped up next to them. “Hey girls, I made it after all.” She grinned happily at all of you. “What’s wrong with this one here, though?” She nudges you in the side, which was rewarded with a lazy grunt from you and a silent curse from Miwa as you tipped dangerously to the side.

“Is she drunk!? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drunk. What happened?” Saeko seemed mildly concerned, which leads to Miwa and Alisa freaking out a little. Saeko usually doesn’t show concern, so it must be just as bad as they imagined.

“Do you have Kuroos number?” Alisa asked her without answering her question in return, not letting her eyes stray from your face, as you looked ghostly white at the moment and started mumbling random things under your breath.

“No? But you have? Right?”

They both shake their heads. Saeko sighs and mumbles something under her breath, which rather sounded, like ‘I should’ve just gone straight home’, before facing Alisa.

“Call your brother then. He must have his number.”

“Oh my god, Saeko you are a genius.”

“Thanks, I know.”

With another concerned look your way, Alisa left your side to go outside and call her brother. She just hoped he would pick up, since it was already the middle of the night.

Meanwhile Kuroo was sitting on the couch, worriedly glancing at the clock all few seconds and constantly brushing his fingers through his hair. No wonder you hadn’t texted him back, he had found your phone lying on his pillow as he had made the bed again. This meant, you were out, with no phone and no means to contact him if something was wrong. He didn’t like that one bit. The worst part was that he couldn’t even blame someone for it, besides himself. This was his fault and he knew it all too well. Scratching at his scalp, he tried to calm down a bit. He knew you could take care of yourself; your small figure belied the strength you actually had, but still. There was always a chance that something happened. So when his phone started ringing he answered it in seconds, without even looking who was calling first. It just had to be you, right?

“Y/n?” he nearly yelped in the phone.

“No, this is Lev.”

Kuroo nearly lost it then, breathing heavily and punching the pillow right next to him, he thought he was going to combust any second.

“What is it Lev? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Yeah, I know, I was sleeping until my sister called me.” Now that he mentioned it, Kuroo could hear the slight strain in Levs voice, as if he had just gotten up.

“It’s about y/n, though. They are worried and would like you to come and pick her up. Apparently she didn’t have her phone with her and got stupidly drunk.” He paused. “…did you have a fight? Are you alright?”

Kuroo swallowed.

“Just tell me where they are, please.” And so Lev does.

“Tell your sister I’ll be there soon… and thank you, Lev. Sorry that you got involved in this.”

“Yeah, yeah. G’night.” with that, he just hung up on Kuroo, probably eager to get into bed again. Kuroo couldn’t even blame him for that, he was tired, too, but he swore he wouldn’t go to bed before you got home safely.

He gets up, just grabs his wallet, keys and his sweater and was out the door in seconds, running all the way to the bar. Never before had it been so bad, that your friends were concerned about you. You had always gotten home on your own, or were sober enough to just give him a call, or get a taxi. Your alcohol tolerance was quite high, too, but alas, you hadn’t eaten today. That was probably the problem.

Alisa spotted him from afar and just starts waving. She was impressed at how fast he was, it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since the call. When she saw him up close though, she realized that he was sweating and breathing hard. He must have run the whole way here.

“Jeez, Kuroo you look like you might pass out any second.”

“Thanks, it’s nice to see you, too Alisa. Now, where is she?”

He didn’t even look Alisa in the face, his eyes scanning the crowd around them, searching for your face.

“Inside. C’mon.”

He follows her tall blonde form through the masses, until she stops in front of a chair. An empty chair. He could barely hear her curse under her breath.

Kuroos head snaps up, when he could hear a commotion start on the dance floor.

There you were, the hands of some random stranger draped across you, while you danced as if you didn’t even notice. Which of course, you didn’t. Not really. You just enjoyed the lights and the music and silently swayed to the rhythm of it, being a little surprised that the world suddenly didn’t seem so shaky anymore. Your back felt warm, too, which was at the same time pleasant and very unpleasant at once. Something somehow felt wrong, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You were just happy that you somehow managed to get yourself drunken enough, to stop thinking about how little your boyfriend seemed to care about you.

Kuroos eyes wander to the two females next to you, desperately trying to pry the hands off that damn stranger of your dancing form, but they were both so small compared to the guy, it was useless.

He lost it the moment said stranger seemed to thrust his hips into your back. Miwa and Saeko spotted him just the second he lunged at the person, shoving him away.

“Get your filthy hands off of my girlfriend!”

The guy of course didn’t like being handled that way and was in Kuroos face the very next instance. “What’s your problem man? It didn’t seem to me that she didn’t like it.”

Miwa winced. She had seen Kuroo lose his cool once before, and it hadn’t ended very well for the other dude. He had him up by his collar at once, sneering in his face “she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even remember her own name and you want to tell me she liked it?” He shook the stranger, muscles flexing under his T-Shirt.  “Get the fuck out of my eyes.”

With that, he shoves him so hard that the guy loses his balance and falls face down onto the dance floor.

Your world had become very wobbly again, as soon as the somewhat steadying hands had left your hips. Tumbling to the side, you were caught in strong arms again. Your boyfriend’s arms.

“C’mon kitten, we’re going.”

“Wha-? Kuroo?” Were you hallucinating now? “No I don’t want to go. I want to dance.” You wind your way out of his arms, only to stagger once again.

Kuroo exhales once again and tries to pull himself together, looking at your friends who all watch you with deep worry in their eyes. “How much exactly did she drink?”

Alisa nervously twirls her hair around her finger, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Your boyfriend could be scary, especially if he was worried about you. “Don’t know… I kinda lost count after her 5th cocktail or so… she might have had some drinks on the dance floor, too.”

Kuroo breathes in deeply, watching you as you tried to dance, which was actually just staggering from one side to the other, trying not to fall on your face. He was low key impressed that you had not already broken your ankles in those heels. Trying to remain calm and reminding himself that in fact, this was his fault and he couldn’t get angry with anybody else, he sighs again, starts fumbling in his pocket to get his wallet out and pushes some money in Alisas hand.

“Here, for her drinks. I’m pretty sure she didn’t pay for them herself, did she? Well, never mind. We are going now. Thanks for reaching out to me.”

And with that, he appears next to you again, draping his sweater around your hips to keep your very short dress from flashing anyone, before crouching down and just throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey, what the hell!? KUROO! Put me down, I don’t want to go!” you slur, as he starts to push his way through the crowd.

“Good thing I’m not asking then.”

Your friends watch as your boyfriend singlehandedly maneuvers you two outside, sighing in unison as you leave the club.

“Wow. That was intense”, Saeko deadpans.

Miwa nods. “He was so calm, though? The last time I saw someone touch y/n with Kuroo around, the guy had a broken nose afterwards. I was a little scared for a second there.”

“He must have been really worried. Lev told me he seemed really agitated, which is rare for him. He’s usually very composed.”

They sigh in unison again. “We better call her tomorrow and ask if she’s alright”, Miwa states, to which the others all nod. Saeko starts grinning a moment later. “I’m pretty sure Kuroo is gonna take good care of her now, so let’s not worry. The night is still young.” She throws her arms around the waists of her friends and pulls them all in direction of the dance floor.

 Meanwhile your world shakes violently with every step your boyfriend makes and your hair was jumping in tact with it. His shoulder blade pressed very uncomfortably into your stomach. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hand at the back of your knee, where he gripped you softly to keep you steady.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he had thrown you over his shoulder and just marched out of the bar. In fact, you felt a little ashamed. It had been years since you had gotten so drunk you could barely stand. It was a mystery to you, how he even knew where you were.

Another step, another bounce, another uncomfortable press against your roaring stomach. You clutch your hands into the hem of Kuroos shirt, trying to steady yourself a bit, inhaling his familiar smell and focusing on that, instead of the turmoil in your stomach and your head.

Kuroo of course feels you clench fistfuls of his shirt and slows down a bit, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Kitten, you alright there?”

The fresh air had sobered you up quite a bit and you were fully aware of the gentle grip your boyfriend had on you, same as the every so often brush of his thumb across your thigh.

Since you didn’t answer, he just presses a quick kiss to your leg and then continues on his way, a little more slowly, but still persistent. You groan, as the nauseous feeling in your stomach got overwhelming. Not only that, but you could also feel your feet burning and hurting. Those heels were really not the best choice for tonight.

“Y/n?” he stops once more and tries to look over his shoulder again.

“First of all Kuroo, I’m still mad at you, secondly I feel like I might puke any minute if your shoulder is gonna press in my stomach again and last of all, my feet hurt.”

It occurred to you that you were whining, but how could you not? Today has been hell and now everything hurts and you couldn’t even just press your head into your boyfriends’ chest because you were supposed to be mad at him.

“Hold on a sec, hun.”

“I mean it Tetsu, I’m gonna puke.”

Kuroo smiles at that, not because it was fun to him that you had so much to drink that you felt like puking, but because you used his first name…which in conclusion meant you weren’t in fact as mad as you tried to be.

He could already see his target at the end of the street, so he just ignored you and walks on a few minutes longer.

“Ok, I’m going to put you down now, be ready.”

He slowly lets you slide down on his front, so that you were now standing in front of him. His hands were on your hips, steadying you slightly in case you still needed it. You wince as your feet hit the ground, your heels pressing against every sore spot on them. Kuroo could tell you were avoiding looking in his face, even though he stood right in front of you.

Sighing, he puts his slender index finger under your chin and lifts your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. “I’m sorry Y/n, I was a total dick earlier and I didn’t even realize it. But for now, can we ignore that so that I can take care of you properly? Please?”

Damn it, it wasn’t fair. As you look into his catlike, earnest eyes, so full of love and concern for you, you could already feel your anger melt away. “You’re the worst, Tetsu.” Your words significance was betrayed by the fact that you leaned your head against his shoulder the exact same instance and inhaled deeply. He chuckles deeply at that and presses a soft kiss against your neck, holding you a little while longer.

“Sit down here for a bit kitten, I will be right back.” He guides you to a bench right in front of the 24/7 he had aimed for, noticing you were still very unsteady on your feet and actually limping now. After you sat down, he squats down in front of you and takes your foot in his hands. “Let me see.” He slowly peels off your shoes and inhales sharply through his teeth. “Damn hun, you really butchered your feet.” You decided you didn’t even want to see it and just wriggled your toes at the new found freedom.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back”, and with that he rushes into the store behind you.

After a few minutes, you feel something cold against your cheek. “Here, drink.”

You take the bottle of water out of his hands, suddenly feeling very thirsty and drink a few mouthfuls, as he squats down in front of you again, inspecting your feet once more, before applying patches at the worst spots. When he was finished, he just looks up at your exhausted form in front of him, bracing his hands on your knees, his thumbs already drawing gentle patterns across your skin. It seemed cold to you suddenly and you shiver, which leads to Kuroo taking off the sweater he had put around your waist and pulling it over your head.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” He grabs your shoes, and turns around, squatting again in front of you, his back muscles flexing under the shirt as he motions for you to get on. With a sigh you did exactly that. No way in hell would you walk the next 10 minutes home on your own two feet. You put your arms around his neck and try a weak little jump to get on his back, which was rewarded with an amused chuckle by your boyfriend. Luckily, he caught your legs just fine and adjusted you on his back with a little wiggle, so that he now could give you a proper piggyback ride home.

“Y/n?” he asks as you got closer and closer to your home, already walking up the stairs to your shared flat.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”                            

Ah damn that bastard really knew how to play you. Even though you could feel your insides warm up at that, you thought he could feel bad a little more, so you didn’t comment on it, as he puts the key in the locker and opens the door.

The moment he switched the light on, though, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Ah fuck Tetsu, I love you, too. Asshole.” That made him laugh in return. It seems like he had cleaned the whole flat after you rushed out to drink yourself stupid.

“I realized why you were so mad the moment I turned around to go back in here”, he confesses and slowly lets you down from his back. “And as I said before, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was a total douchebag.” He comes to stand in front of you and puts your face into his hands. “Can you forgive this asshole?”

You punch his chest in return. “Stop being cute!”

“Can you forgive me? Pleaseee?”

He actually pouts as he squishes your cheeks, already knowing he had won. You tried to fight the smile that wanted to spread on your face at the ridiculous show of your huge boyfriend pouting in front of you, but you fail miserably.

“Just kiss me already, idiot.”

So he did, his one hand sliding from your cheek to your neck, as his lips press against yours in a feather light touch. Your own hand finds its way into his hair at once, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, as the other steadies you against his hips. He sighs contentedly in the kiss, brushing his lips against yours as he mumbles “I missed you so much”, before kissing you again, this time a little more hungrily. Your lips move eagerly against each other and after a little while, you feel his tongue grace against your lips, which makes you shudder. Your knees started feeling dangerously wobbly again. Luckily, he had already pulled you flush against him and now lifted you up by putting his hands under your ass to carry you to the bedroom, where he gently lays you down on the bed, before slowly climbing on top of you.

You smile fondly at his expression as he kisses you repeatedly, every kiss getting a little rougher than the last one, moving your lips in time with his and then there was his tongue, finally in your mouth. He could still taste the alcohol on your lips.

When he finally breaks away from you, you were both panting. Your hands were gripping his shirt greedily and you were already pulling him down on you again, wanting more. God his kisses gave you life.

“I’m not sure we should go there today, kitten, as much as I’d like to. You’re still very much drunk, and I’d like you to feel and remember all of what I plan to do to you.”

He smirks and plants another kiss on your lips, teeth grazing teasingly against them as he did so, then snorting at the bewildered and somewhat outraged look you gave him when he pulled away. You were clawing at his biceps the moment he starts to get up from you, trying to pull him down again and groaning when you realized you were going to lose against his strength.

“Tetsuro”, you moaned in a last attempt to get him back to you, which made him freeze on the spot. “Wow you’re mean, kitten, but still no.”

And with that, he simply helps you get out of his sweater and your dress, always swatting your grabbing hands away, before he manhandles you into the bathroom to get you ready for bed.

You were getting pissed at him again, because first, he got you hot and bothered and then he didn’t want to do something about it. How rude. That would get him payback, you swore to yourself.

Still, not even your naked form had him thinking twice about his choice, he simply wrangles one of his tees over your head and pulls you flush against him in your shared bed, having a death grip on you, so you couldn’t even move around, as much as you tried.

“Sleep now kitten, and then maybe tomorrow I’ll give you what you want so desperately right now.”

He runs a hand down your side teasingly and you could feel his smile against your forehead at the way your body quivers against him.

“On second thought, I think I’m not able to forgive you yet, you are actually the worst”, you mumble against his chest. He only acknowledges this with another kiss against your forehead. Still, somehow your boyfriend had made the right call, because it only took you seconds to fall asleep in his warm embrace. 

He watches your sleeping form on his chest fondly, pressing little kisses to your face from time to time and thinking to himself, that he deserves a price for self-control, because he seriously had not wanted to restrain himself at all.

Groaning, he presses another kiss to your face as he sleepily mumbles, “I love you, Y/n.” before squishing you even more against his chest. This was what he had longed for all week after all, he thought to himself, as he tried to ignore the bulge in his pants. This was going to be an extremely long and very torturous night for him… he just hopes he would fall asleep just as fast as you did. Morning could not come fast enough…

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Take Care (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Set sometime between chapter 18, Ethan forces Naomi to take a break.

A/N: Okay the other day when I posted that i was writing tooth rotting fluff, this isn’t what I had in mind. That story will come later this week.

~v~

“How long have you been here?”

The question startles Naomi awake, Ethan’s stern voice cutting through the hazy cloud of sleepiness invading all of her senses.

If she didn’t have his handsome features committed to memory already, she might not have been able to make him out, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier as time ticks on.

“What?”

“How long have you been here?” Ethan asks again. “When was the last time you stepped out of Edenbrook?”

It’s a valid question, one Naomi hasn’t given any thought to. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

“I’ve been here since Saturday night,” Naomi confesses. Saying it out loud is slightly sobering. The past few weeks have flown by in a blur so unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. But with the hospital closing down soon, there’s no time to waste these days. The people of Boston will be down a hospital, and they still need help.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Naomi.” Yes the hospital is shutting down, but he’s sure there are countless laws she’s violated in the meantime, as no one is supposed to be at the hospital for triple digit hours at a time.

“What? You’re the one who said we should spend our time helping as many people as we can.”

Leave it to her to throw his words back in his face. She’s gotten increasingly better at it, and he’s not a fan. 

“Okay, but I didn’t say you had to move in to do so. And you’re always saying I don’t have a work-life balance.”

Naomi’s arms extend and she gestures widely to the bench she’s sitting on in front of the cafeteria. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“On the verge of collapsing,” Ethan quips.

“I’m sitting,” Naomi argues. “I’m taking a break.”

“Are you currently with a patient?”

“No.”

“Good.” Ethan extends his hand for Naomi to take. After a beat of hesitation, she accepts. He lifts her out of her seat with a swift tug. “You’re coming home with me.”

“But–”

“It wasn’t a question,” Ethan deadpans. “It was an order.”

Naomi plants her feet on the ground, willing herself to not move. It’s a futile attempt because she’s too exhausted and weak to actually have the amount of strength it’d take to battle Ethan on this, but he respects her stubbornness and doesn’t carry her out. “Ethan, I’ll take a nap in an on-call room for an hour, I don’t need to leave.”

“Rookie, you’re clocking out for the evening,” Ethan says, his tone letting it be known that it isn’t up for debate.

“I’m back to ‘rookie’ now?”

“Yes, because you’re being petulant, and you’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not my direct superior anymore, Mister ‘We-Don’t-Need-a-Diagnostics-Team’.”

“I’m still your attending, you still have to listen to me. And I say you’re done for the day.” Not giving her the chance to respond, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. She’s dead weight in his arms and he has to all but drag her to the locker room to retrieve her personal belongings.

Urge car ride to his apartment is silent, save for very idle chit chat. Naomi is too tired to speak, and she won’t admit it due to pure pride and stubbornness, but sitting in Ethan passenger seat on the way to his place is the most peace and quiet she’s had in a long time, not to mention the longest she’s sat still in days. Forever the know-it-all, Ethan picks up on her need for silence and solitude, and doesn’t say too much outside of asking her what she wants for dinner. They decide on a pizza, compromising on garlic chicken.

As soon as they step foot into the apartment, Naomi is assaulted by an overzealous golden retriever. He barks excitedly at her, clawing and licking at her scrub pants as a greeting. Jenner has grown used to her presence, the rare occasions she does actually leave Edenbrook are spent here, curled up with the large dog on the days he’s not in Providence with Alan.

“How’s my favorite boy?” Naomi asks, scratching behind Jenner’s ear. Jenner barks in reply, his tongue falling out of his mouth and lolling to the side as she makes himself comfortable under her touch. 

After a few more scritches and whispered affirmations, Naomi forces herself away from the day, though she could easily spend all night with him in the entryway. She kicks off her shoes at the door and drops her purse there as well.

“Do you want to eat first?” Ethan asks.

The pizza did tempt her the entire drive here, but she desperately wants to take a shower. Maybe she’s losing it at this point, but she can still feel Edenbrook on her skin, and smell the sterilizing disinfectant the cleaning crew uses.

“I need a shower,” Naomi replies definitively, though she makes no effort to move. “Besides, scarfing down cold pizza is always a good idea.”

“Alright.”

Ethan takes her hand and leads her through his apartment, making sure she doesn’t bump into anything on their way to his en-suite

He turns on the water for her, the large waterfall shower steaming the glass planes almost instantly.

“Want some company?” Ethan asks.

“That sounds nice.”

Because she’s literally a zombie, Ethan helps Naomi out of her clothing, delicately peeling the baby blue scrubs off of her body and leaving a pile of discarded clothing on the floor. He follows, removing his own clothing with less care than he did hers, before walking them both into the shower.

For a long time neither of them do anything, Naomi too caught up in the heat of the water and Ethan’s amazing water pressure, and Ethan too enthralled in watching her.

Her skill is slightly pale, evidence that she probably hasn’t had proper sleep or food in Lord only knows how long, and he hasn’t seen dark circles under her eyes like this in months, since the night of the...incident as he’s decided to call it. She’s exhausted, it’s clear in the labored breaths that she takes, and Ethan is still sure without a shadow of a doubt that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Unable to stop himself, his hand gently cups the back of her neck, tilting her head back so he can kiss her again. It’s soft and unhurried as if they have all the time in the world to do this.

The kiss turns more urgent as some of the fog clears from Naomi’s brain. Standing on the tips of her toes, she wraps her arms around of Ethan’s neck holding him close, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Ethan is rewarded with a tiny moan from his girlfriend, a moan that he swallows with the kiss before it dissolves into a low grumble in the back of her throat.

“I missed that,” Naomi admits as Ethan breaks the kiss. 

“What? Kissing me?”

She hums in confirmation and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss onto his chest. “I can’t even remember the last time I kissed you. The only recent memories I have involve me at Edenbrook, diagnosing patients.”

She’s right. Their only focus has been work, work, work, and Ethan can’t remember the last kiss either.

His thoughts are broken up by Naomi, her hands roaming aimlessly along his arms and shoulders. Her exploration goes further south until her nails are raking along his stomach. “When was the last time I touched you?” She asks quietly, her eyes boring into his. “When was the last time I saw you naked?”

A measured exhale escapes Ethan’s nostrils as her hands venture dangerously lower, slightly grazing his pelvis. If neither of them can recall their last kiss, trying to remember the last time they had sex would be a moot point. The nights they leave Edenbrook are spent collapsing in his bed as soon as they can, drifting into unconsciousness almost immediately. “I don’t know.”

“God, have we become old and boring already?”

“We’re just tired and overworked,” Ethan says. “It’ll pass soon.”

The words unspoken hang in the air, just as thick and heavy as the steam surrounding them. Soon they’ll have plenty of time to get back into the normal aspects of their relationship only because they’ll both be unemployed. Edenbrook will be gone before they know it.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Ethan shakes his head as if he will away the cynical thoughts. Instead, he grabs Naomi’s hands, holding them tight to his chest. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Really? Something begs to differ.” With a raised eyebrow, Naomi looks down curiously at the evidence of Ethan’s arousal, comfortable nestled between the two of them. Before she can reach down and touch him, Ethan shakes his head.

“I have the most beautiful woman, naked and wet in front of me. This was inevitable, but it’ll go away.”

“I can make it go away.”

“Mhmm-hmmm. Turn around, Valentine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. How this woman always finds the space and opportunity to flirt with him is a mystery. Lining the walls of his shower are all of Naomi’s bath and shower products. He’s always making fun of her for being a product hoarder, though she insists everything is different—he’s been schooled on the differences between regular, leave-in, and deep conditioner, creams vs gels, body scrubs and shower gels many times and he still doesn’t see a need for it all. 

Grabbing her favorite shampoo, Ethan pours a generous amount into the palm of her hand before gently running it through her strands of hair. He’s seen her wash her hair enough times to know the bare bones of her routine. Very careful of her curls, he makes sure to not roughly drag his fingers through her hair and risk creating a tangled disaster for her to handle later on.

Her head tips back. “Can I pay you to wash my hair from now on? I never want to go back to doing it myself.”

A swell of pride forms in his chest at the compliment. “No payment needed.”

Once he’s finished washing her hair and he’s coated it in conditioner —she insists on leave-in, as she doesn’t have the energy to put my more effort into her hair for the evening—Ethan lathers her in one of her shower gels, whichever one makes her smell like jasmine.

He moves slower as he does this, pressing his thumb into the base of her neck, massaging away some of the stress she’s carrying. His hands dig into her shoulders, between her shoulder blades, and her lower back, loosening the muscles as he goes.

Naomi doesn’t attempt to stop the moans fighting to spill from her mouth, no matter how obscene they sound. The relief that bloods her body is instant, his touch working out knots she wasn’t even aware of.

“You’re a great doctor, you cook, and you're an excellent masseuse?” Naomi sighs in content. “What can’t you do?”

“I told you I make it my mission to be good at everything.”

“I’m going to find your weakness one day, Ramsey.”

She’s his weakness, his Achilles heel, and Ethan can’t believe she doesn’t know it already. There’s no end of the earth he wouldn’t go to for her, no hoop he wouldn���t jump through, his feelings for her his fateful flaw and his greatest strength all in one.

He kisses her again, this time on the side of her neck. His breath fans her, heating the sensitive skin as he leans closer. “Good luck.”

He continues the massage in silence, careful to keep his touch away from places that would no doubt cause this to spiral into shower sex. And as lovely as that sounds, it’s not what Naomi needs, so he’s willing to forego his baser urges. Every once in a while she makes a comment about how amazing his hands are, but for the most part she’s blissfully silent.

He doesn’t stop with the massage until he’s absolutely sure she’s putty in his hands and all of the knots and spots of tension are gone. Even afterwards, they stay in the shower, his arm splayed across her midsection, his chin resting on top of her head.

“I don’t want to move,” Naomi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m too comfortable right here. Can we just stay?”

Ethan chuckles softly to himself. “We can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Well, the steam in here might actually suffocate us if we stay in here any longer,” Ethan starts. “And I’m not a fan of wasting water.”

“It’s not a waste if I’m enjoying it.”

“Touché. Not to mention your skin will get very dry, and you’ll be much more comfortable in my bed.”

“Okay, I guess you’ve made some valid points. We can leave now.”

She doesn’t make any effort to move, and Ethan quickly realizes he’s going to have to do all the work to get her out of here. He turns off the shower and opens the door, quickly inhaling. He didn’t realize how much he needed air until he was no longer in that glass box of steam.

He grabs two large bath towels off of the rack and dries them off. Naomi searches his countertop, now covered in her makeup and hair products until she finds a satin scrunchie to tie up her still damp hair.

They both meander back into Ethan’s bedroom, and Naomi searches through one of his spare drawers for something to wear. It’s full of her clothes, and a few items of his that she’s stolen over the past few months; a t-shirt here, a pair of socks there.

Once she’s bundled up in some of the warmest clothes she can find, Ethan ushers her into bed.  “Are you ready for your pizza now?”

A stubborn yawn manages to slip out as she shakes her head. “No. I’ll get some before I head to work in the morning.”

“You’re not going to work tomorrow,” Ethan says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re taking a much needed break tomorrow,” he continues. “I admire your tenacity, but I’m not going to let you work yourself to the bone and neglect your own needs in your very noble quest to help everyone in Boston. You won’t do Edenbrook any good if you collapse due to exhaustion.”

“But I–”

“I’m not asking you, Naomi, I’m telling you.” Despite his tone, a pleasant shiver runs down the length of her spine. “You’re staying here with me.”

She almost always has the upper hand in their arguments or debates, but Naomi can tell there’s no room for her to argue with him on this one. He won’t let her win.

“Okay,” she concedes. “No work tomorrow.”

Smug that he’s won this round, Ethan triumphantly slides into bed, wrapping an arm around Naomi, keeping her trapped with him. Unlike her, he didn’t put on any clothes, only a pair of boxers, but now Naomi is able to revel in his natural body heat.

He runs a thumb along her cheek, caressing her softly before kissing her forehead. “I am incredibly proud of you.”

“Really?”

“You’re an excellent doctor, and trust me when I say you’ve done more for this community that I’ll ever be able to put into words. And despite the hospital closing soon, I hope you realize the impact you’ve made in your two years here.”

Naomi nods, her throat getting thick with emotion. She’ll never be used to Ethan complimenting her like this. “I wish I could do more.”

“We all do. But at the end of the day, you’re still a human and you can only do so much.” Ethan’s hand moves from her face to her neck, his thumb tracing a pattern along her pulse. “I don’t want you to crash and burn, and best yourself up over something so completely out of your control.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Ethan Ramsey?” Naomi teases. She never thought she’d live to see a day where he’s scolding her for working too much and trying too hard.

“I’ve done a lot of reflecting recently, mostly due to you. If there’s any lesson you’ve taught me, it’s that there’s only so much I’m in control of.”

“Any other lessons or tokens of wisdom I’ve imparted on you.”

“You’ve taught me how to be more patient than I knew was possible,” Ethan replies. Naomi rolls her eyes at the slight teasing. “You’ve taught me how to see the world’s grey area. You taught me the true meaning of trust and forgiveness. You’ve shown me endless compassion and empathy, none that I’ll ever be able to repay in this lifetime or the next. I was your attending, your mentor, but trust me when I say you’ve taught me more than I could ever teach you, about medicine and life in general. So thank you.”

Maybe it’s the pure exhaustion or his really sweet words, but her eyes become wide and glossy with unshed tears. She blinks them away, not wanting to cry.

Instead she leans forward and pulls him into another kiss. She doesn’t know if she can convey the full extent of her love and adoration for him with a simple kiss, but Naomi’s never been the type to not try. When she pulls back, she rests her head against his chest, settling in comfortably.

“Thank you. For the kind words, and for taking care of me tonight. I’ve never had someone be as thoughtful as you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Ethan promises. He’ll give her the world if he can. “You just have to stop being so stubborn and let me do it.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

“Now get some sleep,” Ethan commands. “Tomorrow, I’ll actually cook you a real meal. Not any of the garbage they serve at the hospital, and no more takeout, but–”

He stops short when he hears a soft snore fill the room. Looking down he sees that Naomi has managed to doze off in the mere seconds he was talking.

He’s never been so happy to watch someone sleep, as no one deserves it more than she does. He plants one final kiss on the crown of her head. “Goodnight, Naomi.”

~v~

Tags: @professorkingslay @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @bluebellot @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[my-writings-and-musings]

hello!! i loved your last prompt and and i am also severely deprived of that sweet angst hahah;;; would you mind writing it for either swerve or whirl? thank you!! ❤💙

I take it you mean the oxygen prompt, and please correct me if I misunderstood, but if so I've got them here and I made them extra angsty for you! Fair warning there's some mild alien gore in Whirl's.

For the various posts of this prompt, I'll list the parts below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: You're Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Swerve

·The two of you often chill in his bar together at odd hours, partially because the ship doesn't technically have a day or night beyond an artificial schedule that affects how bright the lights are, but mostly because you love having the special time just to yourselves and no bot else. You'll chat about earth culture, come up with drink ideas, tell wild stories that lead to even wilder jokes... More often than not you get very little productive done, but Swerve treasures every memory of you laughing atop the bar while he talks.

·It's either late night or early morning, technically, when an alarm briefly sounds before fizzling out. Confused by the lack of follow up commands, Swerve opts on the side of caution when he can't get anyone to respond by communicator, though it looks like they might've just been hit by an electric storm that's briefly knocked everything offline. Still, he follows protocol and seals the two of you inside.

·While the mood has been a little dampened, he refuses to let things get unpleasant, especially with no clear threat to worry about. The two of you decide to chill behind the bar and relax a little bit, as you're both a bit tired but obviously can't get any sleep with things being the way they are, and Swerve takes advantage of the quiet to do even more talking.

·He wants to cuddle with you, but he's way too afraid of rejection to ask, and as a result of that fear your relationship hasn't gone much further than hand holding or a few tender kisses. As even a little peck on his nose incapacitates him, you try to let him take the lead on affection for both your sakes. It's his very hesitation though, that prevents him from initially speaking up when you start nodding off at an alarming rate, nearly tipping over from your seated position on the floor.

·When he has to throw out a hand to keep you from falling back and hitting your head against the bar, he finally cracks. You snap to full consciousness, or as much as you can, to find yourself tired beyond all reason and the air around you stale and unnatural. It had been easy to ignore while focused on the adorable minibot, but now it's alarming, and combined with the earlier oddities you're forced to conclude something is wrong.

·He puts on his bravest face and doubles down on establishing communication, not that he's an expert on that front, but his determination and knowledge in other fields lets him get to work on a makeshift communicator that should be able to cut through any interference. You just try to stay awake and listen, as he talks non-stop while he works like nothing is amiss, but the nervous tremble in his hands gives away his internal panic.

·A brief and flimsy connection to an emergency channel doesn't make either of you feel better, but it does allow you to finally find out what's going on, as the panicked explanation from the other end lays out the chaos breaking out due to an enemy ambush that's not currently going well for either side. Much of the ship's infrastructure has been damaged, and while the invading forces are scattered, it's currently easier to list the systems that aren't malfunctioning. Swerve is too horrified by the mention of an atmospheric generator shutdown and forced expulsion to ask for instructions before the line goes dead.

·There's a full minute of unbreakable panic on his part, and only biting down on his fist prevents him from saying all the horrible thoughts racing through his head. He's a smart bot, he knows that downed atmospheric generators are bad for the ship, but absolutely fatal for you if not fixed fast enough. He's near a full on panic attack when you try to rise and comfort him, only to stumble and fall as the dizziness overwhelms you.

·Though you don't even break skin with your small tumble, he's immediately by your side and frantically asking if you're okay, gingerly lifting you off the floor as you reassure him with far more levity than the situation calls for. Realizing that oxygen must already be dangerously low, and that the shortage is likely responsible for your exhaustion and disorientation, he concludes he's on his own in regards to planning a way out of this. A lack of response through the communication line he rigged up confirms this.

·Still a mess but keeping it together for your sake, he sets you up behind the bar and finds some clean towels, ordinarily used to polish tables, and sets them up as a makeshift little bed for you to rest on. His experience with medicine is unfortunately not going to give him much aid in this situation, but he knows enough to realize you'll benefit from rest and calm instead of panic. He tries to explain this, but you can barely follow the rapid stream of words leaving his mouth as he lays you down, and his worry actually spurrs your clouded mind to try and comfort him.

·For once he pushes away your offered hand, despite loving your tender touch more than anything and having a terrifying inkling he may have limited time left to enjoy the comfort it brings him. Arming his security system, he prays he won't have to use it as he hunkers down and tries to keep you relaxed with more casual conversation, but the words feel meaningless as he looks into your dimming eyes.

·The two of you sit for what feels like hours, and his attempts at distracting you fade into more and more desperate pleadings for you to stay awake. Eventually he takes your hand between two of his own, his large palms gently holding yours between them as he blends begging with apologizing. You're only more confused by this, as the fog of exhaustion isn't enough for you to forget he's not at fault for anything.

·It's in this rambling that he confesses the true depth of his love for you, going on about what a wonderful person you've been to him and how every day since he's met you has been the best of his life... but he was so afraid of messing it up he always hid these feelings for fear of scaring you away. Now he knows that all he accomplished was wasting some of the precious time you two had together, and he promises not to make the mistake again if you get better and he has a second chance.

·In the haze of hypoxia you find the confession unbearably sweet, and smile up at the precious face you fell in love with at the first cheesy smirk. You were beginning to fear he'd never make his move...

·Your last moments of consciousness are lost to a solid banging against the door, one that's quickly overtaken by a not so friendly pounding and the denting of the solid metal by something big and heavy. Security systems primed, he grabs his blaster and prepares himself, suddenly far less afraid and far more angry. He won't let fear prevent him from keeping you safe.

·Aliens of unknown species storm the bar with weapons blazing, and the scene descends into chaos. His security system starts shredding the first of the attackers, but there's simply far too many of them to get them all, and your little hiding spot becomes their target in no time. Despite all your desire to stay awake and help, the oxygen content is just too low, and you slip into darkness while his optics turn one final time to you. The sight drives him to act.

·With everything he has, he opens fire and stands his ground, taking shots himself but hardly feeling the pain. Their numbers are reduced but simply too overwhelming, and he's forced to face them head on when they start closing in, enduring more and more egregious damage as he leaves the cover of the bar to brawl. He wishes he could say he saved the day, but his smaller form is beaten down and he's only able to watch as they close in on you... before Autobot reinforcements burst in to turn the tide.

·He's bleeding and nearing unconsciousness himself when the two of you are carried to the medical bay, and the last thing he sees is you clinging to life in another bot's arms... It should make him feel relieved, but he only drifts off in absolute misery over his failures. He couldn't keep you safe, he couldn't get you help, and he couldn't even overcome his fear to show you the love you deserved until you were at death's door. The feeling doesn't abate when he awakens in the medical bay to find you both alive and the threat defeated.

·Ignoring all medical warning, he drags his still aching body to your side the moment you're alone, tearing up at the sight of you so weak and your beautiful face obscured by an oxygen mask, and despite his relief to see you alive he can only cry. When you wake at the sound he's nothing but shoulder shaking sobs and apologies, and though your memory is blurred you're well aware that the blame he's putting on himself is entirely unwarranted. You use all of your strength to keep your mask on while embracing him from the berth.

·Accustomed to his low self esteem, you refuse to hear it this time, and remind him that as the bot who charged headfirst into enemy fire he's likely the only reason you're still alive. You fell in love with him because he's the kind of bot to always push on, no matter how afraid he may be, and if the two of you are indeed going to be more open from now on... you'd like to emphasize that you love him back. More than you've ever loved anyone. Your words encourage him to heft his aching frame onto the berth with you, where he tearfully returns your profession of love once again, before managing to maneuver the two of you side by side for the cuddling he always wanted. There's a lot you two will have to talk about, but for now it can wait, and you're so comfortable Ratchet can't bring himself to mandate Swerve return to his own berth when he returns.

Whirl

·As he's taken it upon himself to get you battle ready, the two of you are in the shooting range together as you often are, though the activities vary from actual practice to pure shenanigans. On occasion he'll try "trick shots" to show you what combat prowess really looks like, and apparently in his view it resembles standing on his head and trying to nail targets with his chest mounted guns. His level of accuracy would strike fear into the sparks of his enemies but honestly he finds your laughter to be a better reward.

·Being as wary of exterior threats as he is, and experienced at surviving them, he gets the sense of some impending trouble not too long before the alarm goes off. Instructing you to keep your tiny weapon, he keeps his own ready to go and pops you into his cockpit, both for the sake of safety and so you can "watch the show" if he runs in to anything. While he's calm and casual as ever, maybe even a little eager, you know there's a bit of caution holding him back. Otherwise he'd be sprinting down the halls and trying to figure out where the fun is before he misses any of it.

·When it becomes clear communication is being jammed, he opts to drop you off somewhere safe so he can sort things out, and the few bots you pass along the way aren't able to offer much help thanks to everyone being equally confused. In the end he decides his own room may be the safest place for you, as it's not too far and you know it well. Plus, you can always scamper off into the vents if things go sideways.

·You're halfway there before encountering your first enemy; an alien of unknown species who's not too tiny next to the sizable copter bot, and who wastes no time before trying to flee. Recognizing a scout when he sees one, Whirl pounces to take care of the threat, encouraging you to "watch and learn" while he gets a little showy in the headshot he follows up with a decapitation to be safe.

·You've seen him in action enough to expect these things, and while you're ordinarily his top morale booster when he fights, you find yourself a little too sluggish to provide your usual enthusiasm in your praise. Picking up on your lack of energy, he asks if you'd prefer more screaming for the next one, partially sarcastic despite you being fully aware he'll do it if you say yes. You brush off the fatigue and dizziness clouding your head as motion sickness from the ride.

·Ever cautious about your delicate organic nature, he decides to play it safe and see if he can get more information before continuing his blind trek through hazardous territory, though his plans likely won't change much from killing every enemy he sees. A somewhat functioning maintenance terminal at least gives him a chance to check up on the status of whatever is still working, so he pulls up the current readout. What he sees chills his spark.

·They haven't just been boarded by a large enemy ship, the Lost Light has actively been hacked, and the damage extends far beyond the communication systems being jammed. The atmospheric generators have been shut off and air is actively being purged from the ship, which is a slow process due to its size, but the concentration of carefully maintained elements is already dropping. That wouldn't be more than an inconvenience if you didn't need the oxygen being dumped to live.

·Barely able to skim the screen in the time it takes him to soak it all in, you're jostled and shocked when he pivots on his long legs and tears down the hallway in the opposite direction, leaving you in an even more confused fog than you'd been in previously. Though he's prone to unexpected decisions, this feels more like the result of panic.

·Answers to the questions you begin directing his way initially aren't forthcoming. All you get is uncharacteristic shushing or hushed murmurs not directed your way, his path starting and stopping seemingly at random to a destination you're far too out of it to guess. It isn't until you testily demand an explanation that you get one laden with frustration; he's trying to get you to the medical bay without any fighting!

·You're rendered speechless by the very idea. Whirl? Avoiding a fight? His unorganized and circular explanation about atmospheric generators wouldn't make sense even if you were coherent, but as it's getting harder and harder just to sit up, you don't have the energy to argue with him. His running almost makes it feel like you're hovering along, and despite the panic radiating through his frame, you find that the exhaustion weighing you down is quite hard to resist even as you strain drawing breath.

·Every minute he can feel you struggling, his naturally attuned senses picking up your faltering vitals as he would the weakening ticks of a fading clock. For once he's trying to be cautious despite every wire of his being screaming at once, clouding his processor as he tries to take an indirect path that won't involve a fight, painfully aware that you might not survive combat with a multitude of foes attacking him at once. Of course the delay is dangerous too, but what can he do? Keeping you alive is his only priority.

·As he's come to expect though, luck never favors him, and you're just stable enough to see the horde of enemies appear virtually out of nowhere as he closes in on the medical bay. Through the cockpit glass you have moments to process the threat before he growls out a promise; he's going to get you through if it kills him, but if you die before that he's gonna be pissed, so keep that little pump of yours beating, okay?

·Any remaining clarity in your head is gone in moments as everything descends into a bloodbath. Bullets fly through the hallway and blades start cutting in a maelstrom that's brutal even by his own standards, resulting in blood spattered glass obscuring your vision. All you have then is the lurching of his body as he strikes and the cacophony of battle, but you keep yourself breathing through it all, determined not to let him down.

·He's the most brutally effective he's ever been on such short notice, to the point he'd be grateful you can't see what he's reducing these aliens to, not that he's enjoying himself either. His chest is his only concern when it comes to defense, resulting in increasingly grievous wounds to every other part of his body, not that he cares too deeply. Every alien is just a collection of vital parts he needs to deconstruct, and he does so with everything he has available, even tearing his claws into vulnerable weak points when his sword is momentarily knocked away.

·By the time he's up to his knees in corpses he's losing all patience. He could have been at the medical bay by now, could have found a way to rig up some kind of atmosphere scrubber himself if necessary, but instead he's stuck tearing his way through these idiots. Do they have any idea what's at stake for him? What he'll do if he loses you now? As his strikes become cold and automatic, his thoughts drift back to the dark corners he'd only just started to leave behind, and he's left with a familiar feeling.

·He's angry. Not just in the logical sense, it's the raw and primal anger that has kept him alive but haunted for eons. He's angry at these cowards for killing you in a way that you can't really fight. Angry at the very air around you both, and how it keeps slipping away like the delicate tools his claws are too clumsy to hold, taking everything he adores about you with it. But worst of all he's angry at himself for falling in love, and painting a giant target on himself in the process, one he can't tell you how sorry he is for dragging you into.

·The burning will to survive blinds him to familiar color schemes until one is right in front of him, blocking his blade and screaming his name until an optic he didn't know was cracked is able to make out a team of Autobots. Ringing audials blur their words, not that he cares what they have to say. Ignoring them completely, he pries open his cockpit with what he realizes is his only functional arm, and pulls out your barely conscious form to wordlessly request assistance.

·Thankfully Ratchet is just behind the group and, for their sake, knows what to do and moves quickly. You can just make out a familiar optic above you as the final rush to the medical bay proves to be your limit, and you apologetically give a claw a squeeze as you drift off. Whirl only hears the medic say something about how they've been trying to restore communication for this exact purpose, and how they have oxygen ready, and they just need to hook you up...

·The moment he hands you over and medical assistance is offered to him, he refuses with a nearly violent outburst, threatening to make things much worse if anything is done before you're stabilized. Ratchet scolds him for the attitude but otherwise doesn't flinch as he lays your tiny body on a berth and stabilizes you with much needed oxygen. In an almost anticlimactic ending to the whole affair, Whirl is assured you'll survive, and in the haze of the realization it's over he can't bring himself to feel anything at first.

·By the time you come to he's allowed the worst of his injuries to be repaired. Sitting beside your berth in silence, he perks up when he hears you stir, leaning over you to keep the medical lights from hurting your eyes. A tender claw brushes your cheek as he dryly jokes about you being more trouble than a fleshy could be worth, but you can see his spark isn't in it. The entirety of it all rushing back, you hold the tip of his claw in awe at what he's done for you, but also to comfort the fear you know is hurting him. It's almost heartbreaking; how quickly he confesses that this has shaken him to his core. You ask if he's having any second thoughts, and the question seems to act like a jumpstart to his very being. He's not, he firmly assures you, he's only forgotten what it felt like to have something to lose again. It hurts; but every single moment with you is worth that risk, he learned that the moment he fell in love with you. You're worth feeling pain again.

[spuffybot]

Walk Me to the Graveyard

Summary: Buffy walks through the graveyard alone at night, contemplating the past few months following the fall of Sunnydale. She reflects on her relationship with Spike, her friendships, and her future before receiving a shocking phone call.

Characters: Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Spike (mentions of Giles, Xander, Andrew, Kennedy, Faith, Wood, Angel, and Fred)

Warnings: Some adult language

Word Count: 4515

Author’s notes: If you read this, thank you. I’ve been chipping away at it for the past few weeks and I’m just glad I was able to finish something I started. “Ghostface” is a reference to the Scream movies, which Sarah Michelle Gellar had a cameo in. The high tea spot with the egg shaped bathrooms is Sketch, a place I didn’t get to visit this year due to the pandemic. I hope you all have a safe holiday season and new year. Hopefully I’ll finish the second part of this story in 2021.

Walk Me to the Graveyard (part 1)

Buffy’s joints creaked as she stood up from her crouched position. She’d been staking out this grave (no pun intended) for hours and dawn was slowly approaching. In the last few minutes the air had started to change, and she could hear the telltale rustling of birds in the trees. If this vampire was going to rise, it wouldn’t be tonight.

Stretching her arms up over her head, she rolled out her stiff shoulders, feeling strangely relieved by the lack of action.

Buffy had been coming to this cemetery every couple of nights for weeks, sniffing out even the barest hint of vampire activity. Technically she could have assigned graveyard duty to any of the Potentials, but she craved the silence and the normalcy of the activity.

She chuckled to herself. How far she’d come that she could relish a few hours of graveyard haunting and call it normal. If only her sixteen-year-old self could see her now.

The truth was she was tired. After the fall of Sunnydale, she’d been fueled by an insatiable need to just keep moving. Giles had suggested they hole up in LA and take refuge with Angel Investigations, but Buffy refused. She wanted to get started on rebuilding as soon as possible. They couldn’t afford to waste time in LA, on Angel’s turf, killing time as his sidekicks while thousands of girls woke up with powers they couldn’t explain. So instead the Scoobies had moved to London, taking on the role of de-facto Watchers Council. They’d rounded up the few surviving members of the former Council and had started reaching out to as many activated Potentials as possible.

They recruited the ones they could and provided support (emotional and financial) to the ones they couldn’t. It was rewarding and it kept her mind off things.

Things like telling a man she loved him only to have him choose death over a future with her.

Buffy kicked a crumbling headstone, cursing when she stubbed her toe.

She knew that wasn’t fair. Spike died saving the world. It was a sacrifice she’d made more than once, and she knew how much she resented the people she left behind for not understanding the weight of that choice. She didn’t want to sully the memory of his heroics with her bitterness. She just couldn’t help it. Besides, focusing on missing Spike was easier than accepting she didn’t know how to function now that she wasn’t the “one girl in all the world.” The irony of having an identity crisis over getting the one thing she’d always thought she wanted was not lost on her. She should be grateful that she wasn’t the only Slayer. Grateful that her future was finally hers to shape. Instead she just felt lost.

It didn’t help that everyone around her was adjusting to this new life and mission like they were born to it. Dawn was training to be a Watcher, and frankly, they needed as many as they could get. The Slayer to Watcher ratio had been drastically tipped and it was only a matter of time before things got out of control.

Faith and Wood had stayed behind in America, taking up shop at the Hellmouth in Cleveland. It was weird to think of Faith as the reigning defender of the Hellmouth, but it felt right. With Wood by her side she would stay grounded and on track. He understood the mission better than most.

Giles was in his glory. He’d vetted the surviving Watchers, firing some gleefully and taking others under his wing. Between them they’d established a kind of Watchers Hogwarts, training Watchers by day and guiding Potential Slayers on field missions by night. He was happy, which was something she’d never really seen him be before. Their relationship had taken a hit in the last few years and while she wasn’t ready to forgive him for everything, she didn’t begrudge him his success. Her Watcher had floundered ever since he was fired, unable to find purpose while she and her friends had grown up around him. Seeing as she suddenly found herself in a similar position it was hard not to understand how he’d gone off track. Besides, she’d lost enough people to know she wasn’t going to lose anymore. She’d fix things with Giles, eventually. For now, she’d just settle for on the same continent and on polite speaking terms. 

Xander and Andrew led the Potential Identification and Retrieval Taskforce. They came up with the name. Obviously. They spent their days traveling the world, chasing down leads and giving their best “join team save the world” sales pitch to scared and angry girls.

Buffy smiled thinking about them. The last time they’d video chatted, Xander had looked better than she’d seen him in years. He’d lost the chip on his shoulder that he’d been carrying since they graduated high school. For the first time in his life he was the best person for the job, and he knew it. Trustworthiness and warmth radiated from him and his knowledge of tactics and the cost of the fight lent him an authenticity the girls were drawn to. He never bullshitted or misled them, but he did inspire them. Like he’d inspired all of the Scoobies over the years to keep on fighting.

The sun was starting to peak over the horizon, and a misty fog enveloped the graveyard. She knew she was dawdling but she couldn’t bring herself to rush home. The alarms would be ringing any second now, Potentials and Watchers scrambling to the mess hall for breakfast before a day of study and training.

Technically she didn’t have any classes to teach until the afternoon, but Giles liked the staff to be present in the morning. He said it communicated solidarity and responsibility. Personally, she thought Dawn had just made him watch the Harry Potter movies one too many times.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she let it go to voicemail. It was either Willow calling to say she had another hit on the Potential alert locator spell or Giles calling to ask where she was.

Either way it could wait.

She just wanted to be in the quiet for a little bit longer.

That’s what she missed the most about Spike. Having someone she could be in the quiet with. He had always seemed to know what she needed, anticipating her every mood and desire.

She’d never met anyone she could just be alone with before him. He never expected anything of her other than to just be. In this chaotic mess of a life she now led she craved his company and his silence. Since she couldn’t have that she came to the cemetery. The dead kept her company in a way the living never could. The occasional scuffle with a vampire didn’t hurt either. The familiar comfort of a stake in her pocket, grave dust on her shoes, her breath quickening for the thrill of the kill, reminding her that even though everything had changed, some things never would.

Her phone buzzed again.

She frowned, wondering why she couldn’t even get a few hours of peace before the sun was fully risen.

Flipping it open she saw two missed calls from a number she didn’t recognize. No voicemail.

It was probably someone trying to sell her something.

Technically her phone was spelled against telemarketers, but magic was fickle. If someone really needed to reach her, they would call the office and leave a message with her secretary.

God. How had she ended up here?

When they’d first arrived in London she’d panicked. Back in California it had seemed so clear. Get to London, find the Watchers, find the Potentials, save the world. Simple.

Except once they arrived there had been bureaucracy and red tape to get through. The surviving Watchers had needed convincing and playing nice with morons wasn’t Buffy’s strong suit. After one particularly eventful meeting that ended with some snide British dude’s head slamming into a wall Giles and Willow had pushed her to take a back seat on the negotiations. Much to everyone’s shock, she listened.

As soon as she stopped leading she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. Without meetings and planning sessions to fill her days she’d found herself wandering the streets of London with Dawn, playing tourist.

They were having high tea at this ridiculous spot with baby pink furniture and weird egg-shaped toilets when it hit her. She could walk away. The Hellmouth was gone, and there were more than enough Slayers to pick up the slack. Her friends would be disappointed but eventually they would understand. As she sat there watching Dawn sample pastries, no fear of imminent death getting in the way of her fun, Buffy couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like. This could be their every day.

They could finish out the summer backpacking through Europe then head home to America to finish school and settle down. She was pretty sure she’d heard somewhere that there were hardly any vampires in New Jersey.

She was so wrapped up in the fantasy that she almost missed what Dawn said as they were walking home to their flat.

“Sorry, what with the what now?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I said, it’s crazy how there’s this whole world out here and no one was helping keep it safe before.”

“Ummm excuse me, Slayer here, has saved the world, a lot. Even got a nice shiny headstone for my troubles.”

“Obviously but...you were always in Sunnydale. And sure, most of the big bad world endy guys ended up there too but...what about all the other regular level baddies hurting everyday people? I mean, look at them all.”

Dawn stopped and looked around, forcing Buffy to take it all in. The couples strolling along, groups of friends, kids in strollers. The street was flooded with people going about their day. As soon as that sun went down, they’d be joined by all the things that went bump in the night.

“I just think it’s kind of amazing what we’re about to do. For the first time we’ll be able to protect people all over the world. These people will have a chance like they’ve never had before. Like everyone in Sunnydale got because you were around. We can give that to them. I’m just...glad.”

Buffy’s heart warmed even as dreams of running away slipped from her grasp. Dawn was right. This was her calling. She’d find a way to live with it. Normalcy would never be available to her and the sooner she embraced that, the sooner she could start working towards happiness.

At least that’s what Willow was always saying.

Willow who saw a therapist three times a week and a substance abuse counselor twice a week.

After the battle she and Kennedy had parted ways. Their relationship had run its course and Kennedy wasn’t interested in staying on Team Scooby. Instead she took her slaying act on the road, traveling town to town looking for monsters to hunt and people to save. Occasionally she’d run into a Potential and send a heads up their way. She seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy. Buffy just couldn’t seem to find her groove.

Ironically, Willow was the only one to notice how out of sorts Buffy was. Maybe it was all the therapy or maybe it was just that she was more herself than she’d been in a long time, but Willow had become Buffy’s sole confidant these past few months. If she thought about it too much she knew she’d cry. It hadn’t occurred to her how much she’d missed her best friend until she got her back.

At first when Willow tried to reach out, Buffy had been cold and distant. Willow understood, even writing Buffy a letter to explain that she respected her need for distance after the way she had torched their friendship and Buffy’s trust. The letter had melted something in Buffy’s heart. It was the first time Willow had really acknowledged the fact that their sisterhood had been a casualty of Willow’s addiction.

The first time they sat down for coffee together felt like coming home. Willow seemed lighter, more like the girl Buffy had met her sophomore year of high school than the all-powerful Wicca she had come to know lately. She seemed shy, hesitant to take too much from Buffy, a reticence that allowed her to give more than she had intended to when she agreed to meet.

By their third coffee date it was clear that they were going to push through this. When a third turned into a fourth and fifth they decided to just make it a standing girl’s night. Every Tuesday for the rest of their lives.

Last Tuesday they’d finally broached the subject of Spike. Buffy had been dreading this, afraid to pick at the scab only to be met with judgment and condemnation. She wasn’t sure their renewed friendship could handle it. As much as she loved having Will back, Spike was a sensitive spot and she was afraid of how she’d react if Willow said something she didn’t like.

“Buffy, I tried to end the world. What’s a little bumpin of the uglies between former enemies compared to that? I am judgement free Willow of the no judgies zone.”

Willows face scrunched up like it did sometimes when she was trying to find the right words, her nose crinkling and her eyes rolling skyward.

“I just want you to be ok. And if that means loads of tasty mochas and squishy details about Spike sex, I am all ears. I’ve even got marshmallows.”

Buffy saw the sincerity on her friends face and felt something crack deep inside her. She’d been prepared for judgment at worst and stoic acceptance at best. Being met with such openness and warmth took her by surprise and she found she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her eyes welled up and before she could reign it in and full body sobs shook her.

As she cried, Willow rubbed her back and let her get it all out, careful to avoid pushing her to talk. It was exactly what she’d needed to be able to open up.

And open up she did. It was like the levies broke and all the confusion and hurt came pouring out. She told Willow about what happened in the Hellmouth. About her last days with Spike, how he supported her and strengthened her when no one else could, or would. This last part she said without any venom, all her anger and resentment at Willow long gone.

She even spoke about their last night together. How they’d made love in the basement, on that shitty cot. The first and only time they’d ever been truly intimate, Buffy’s walls fully down, her heart totally exposed.

“I know having sex with someone isn’t like, a big deal or anything. Especially when you’ve had sex as many times as we did.”

Buffy cringed as the words left her mouth. The familiar guilt over her physical affair with Spike flaring up.

“No!” Willow exclaimed.

“Buffy no. It is a big deal. It’s like, the biggest of deals. You and sex haven’t exactly had the most copacetic relationship, no offense.”

She smiled apologetically, eliciting a soft laugh from Buffy despite the anxiety that was clenching her gut.

“If you let yourself feel something good with Spike, even just that one time, it’s important. Special. You shouldn’t downplay that. He loved you and you let him show it to you. It’s romantic.”

At that Buffy really laughed.

“God Will. Spike. Romantic.”

Willow laughed too.

“You know...it’s not that weird. Remember when he kidnapped me and Xander? He wanted me to do a love spell for Drusilla. I think he’s always had a romantic streak. In a weird, murdery, vampire kinda way”

Buffy shook her head in amusement.

“Did I ever tell you Spike was a poet when he was human?”

Willows eye widened, and her hands flew to cover her cackling laugh.

“A poet? Oh my gosh. That’s...that’s too good.”

Buffy took a sip of her mocha, relishing the warm caffeinated goodness before adding, “he would kill me for telling you this but, the best part is the whole “William the Bloody” thing? That’s because he had a reputation for being such a terrible poet.”

At that Willow dissolved into full on giggles, hands clutching her stomach

“Ugggggh ok ok, I’m done laughing. Promise. Also why is that so cute? That’s so cute. Little Spike the poet.”

Buffy sighed. “The thing is Spike has this immense capacity for love. Even as a violent serial killer he was still driven by love. It scared me. That he was so willing to throw himself headfirst into love without a shadow of doubt. I’ve never...I’ve never been like that.”

She looked up at Willow, trying to read her reaction. The witch just nodded encouragingly for her to go on.

“I just...I told Giles once that I didn’t know if I could love. I was worried I was broken, like all the slaying made me cold and loveless or something.”

“Buffy, no,” Willow cut in, but Buffy held up a hand to stop her.

“I know it’s not true. I died to save Dawn, to save all of you, weeks after I said that.” Buffy’s eyes filled up again but this time she swallowed it down and wiped them clean.

“He really loved me Will. And I don’t know that I was in love with him but that last night we spent together...I kind of thought that I could be, someday. You know? I wanted him to know that. To know that there was a chance for us. I figured we’d have all the time in the world after...”

Buffy trailed off, suddenly tired. She didn’t need to explain the rest. How Spike had died, believing she’d never love him. How all the time she thought she’d have to figure out if she could evaporated in a burst of fire and ash.

—————————

She’d reached the cemetery gates just as the sun broke through the horizon. Her car was covered in dew, glistening in the hazy morning light.

She still couldn’t believe she had learned how to drive. And on the wrong side of the road! Her mom would die of shock if she were still around.

The thought of Joyce made her wistful. If only her mom could see her now. In her heart Buffy new her mom would be proud of the choices she’d made. She’d encourage her to let go of the past and focus on the future. She’d be overjoyed to know that Buffy had a future now. Sure, it still involved a massive amount of slayage but for the first time in a long time, the fate of the world didn’t rest solely on her shoulders. Her mom would tell her to embrace that and to live this new life to the fullest.

I’m trying mom.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time Buffy yanked it out in annoyance and flipped it open.

“What do you want?”

The silence on the other end only ticked her off more. If it was so important for someone to call her three times before she’d even had a cup of tea they could freaking respond when she finally picked up.

“Hello? I’m hanging up in three seconds if you don’t get all un-ghostface on me and just tell me what you want.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Her annoyance bled to curiosity and she willed herself to be patient.

Infusing her voice with a level of calm she didn’t feel, she asked “Do you need help or something? I don’t know how you got this line if you’re not part of Scooby Central but…you got me.”

The silence eked on for seconds that felt like minutes before the caller sighed. Buffy’s pulse shot up, anticipation making her antsy. She shuffled from foot to foot, fighting her instinct to hang up. If this was a Potential calling for help she needed to wait it out.

Finally, a voice broke through the silence.

“Slayer?”

Buffy dropped the phone on the ground, her fingers losing the ability to function along with her brain, which had gone fuzzy and staticky at the sound of the all too familiar voice on the other end of the line.

She stared down at her phone, the call still connected, wondering if she had fallen asleep somehow.

A muffled “bloody hell” came out of the fallen phone, causing Buffy to gasp and jump back. She crouched down low, getting as close to the phone as she could without actually picking it back up.

“Shit. SHIT. Spike?”

The muttering and cursing stopped.

“Slayer…yea. It’s a long story. But yea.”

Buffy felt her limbs turn to jelly and she sat down on the cold gravel, her head falling into her hands. A sob bubbled up from her chest, turning into a laugh that she couldn’t control. She giggled for a solid minute before gingerly picking her phone up and pressing it to her ear.

“How? You better explain yourself right now.” Her voice was edged with steel, anxiety and adrenaline giving way to nervous anger. If this was someone’s idea of a sick joke she was going to get murdery.

She could almost hear Spike roll his eyes.

“Good god woman, can’t I come back to life without brassing you off?”

She bit her lip to stop a smile, not willing to let hope overrule a protective layer of skepticism.

Rocking back on her heels Buffy gulped down the crisp morning air, willing her body to calm down so she could take stock of the situation. Her dead ex sort of boyfriend was calling her…she looked at the phone number quickly…from LA. Ok. She could handle this. She was the Slayer, queen of things that go bump in the night and let’s face it, this wasn’t her first ex to come back from the great beyond. If Angel could do it…Angel.

“Spike, why are you calling me from LA?”

He sighed again and she could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, a grimace on his face as he debated the best way to tell her what was going on.

Despite the rush of anger, her heart warmed at the thought.

“Eh look, I said it was complicated. I just thought it was right. Telling you I was alive. Thought you should know is all.”

Whatever ice had melted in her heart immediately froze back up. No way was Spike going to call her from beyond the grave and then immediately get shady and secretive.

“So, is that your weird dodgy British way of saying you’re not going to tell me why you’re calling me from LA? Where Angel lives? Are you with Angel?”

She heard Spike mutter something to himself that sounded an awful lot like “bloody bint”. She rolled her eyes and stood up, pacing the lot in an attempt to keep her temper in check.

“Yea. Alright yea.”

His voice had changed, his accent becoming sharper, and she knew he was starting to get worked up.

“I’m in LA and I’m with Angel. If you want to talk to him you can damn well call him yourself. I don’t know what I was thinking. Bloke comes back as a sodding ghost, gets himself corporealized by a nice scientist bird and calls his girl up and she wants to know about Angel. Figures.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, not even bothering to interrupt his tirade. She knew he’d run out of steam eventually.

“Are you finished?”

Spike sighed again and Buffy felt the fight go out of her. She sat down on the hood of her car, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling within.

“Yea Slayer. I’m finished.”

Buffy’s shoulders slumped and she laid back, gazing up at the sky. It was going to be a cloudy day.

“How?”

“That’s the million-dollar question love. Seems no one can answer it.”

“Wait.” Buffy sat up; brow furrowed in concentration as she started to put together the various odd things Spike had said so far.

“You were a ghost?”

She tried to picture that. Spike all floaty and haunty. The image made her chuckle, which she quickly tried to suppress.

“Yea, yea, yea, laugh it up. I don’t know if I was a ghost. I was a something. Couldn’t touch, couldn’t feel. Just trapped at bloody Wolfram & Hart with your beloved Prince of Brooding.”

“Wolf ram and what now?”

“It doesn’t matter. Done what I set to do. You know. Guess I’ll let you get back to it then.”

Buffy felt white hot anger burning in her chest. Did he really think he was going to call her up, say hey, and then leave? Maybe forever? Who did he think he was?

“Fine,” she spat out.

“Fine,” came Spike’s huffy reply.

They’d reached a stalemate and Buffy did the only thing she could think of doing.

She hung up.

She stuffed the phone in her pocket, unlocking the car door and sliding into the front seat. She stared out the frosted windshield for a moment before screaming at the top of her lungs. When that didn’t calm the storm she felt brewing inside she slammed her hands repeatedly into the steering wheel. The metal and leather began to crunch and warp under the weight of her blows but she didn’t care. She felt like someone had set her insides on fire. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry, couldn’t do anything but scream and rage into the void.

Eventually she ran out of steam. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but her throat was raw. Rubbing her face she switched into Slayer mode. Something was up and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Cagey Spike and his caginess be damned.

She forwarded the number he’d called her from to Willow and Andrew. Between the two of them they’d be able to trace it and dig up some dirt on where Spike was. As for how he got there, she was going to need boots on the ground. Luckily Kennedy had last checked in from Arizona a couple of days ago. She couldn’t be far from there and she owed Buffy more than one favor. She might not be Spike’s biggest fan, but she would do some recon and get Buffy the answers she needed. Once she knew what was going on, she could show up in LA and punch Spike and Angel in the face herself.

Buffy felt calmer. She had a plan. It wasn’t perfect but it was a start.

She’d let Spike get away once before. This time would be different. She didn’t know why or how but it seemed the Powers That Be had given her a second chance.

She wouldn’t waste it.

—end—

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 6

November 21st - Part 3

DeeDee heard both her phone and computer go off at the same time. She sighed, turned away from the computer and picked up the phone. She decided to see what the girls had to say first. 

Phyll: DeeDee. We can just hit the hookah spot tonight. No club.

Bev: Yeah, and you know you love the wings from Hakeem’s place. It’s a win-win for all of us.

“Ooooh, Hakeem’s wings.” Her stomach gurgled at the thought. “Ok, maybe not.”

DeeDee: Sorry ladies. I have a bottle of wine and a very interesting book calling my name. But you two have fun. 

Bev: Fine. Next week, then?

DeeDee: Yes, Bev. Definitely next week, I have no class or work. 

Bev: Great.  

Phyll: Punk. 

DeeDee: Love you both. Night. 

Bev: Night.

Phyll: Yeah.

DeeDee slid the phone on the coffee table and picked up the computer. Now, back to her book. She clicked on Erik’s email and started to read. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Ms. DeeDee, 

There is no need to pout. I promise you that. 

So, you want a career in teaching. You love to see it. I think that is amazing. 

It reminds me of the work I started when I first came to the Center. I used to run an afterschool science program for the local kids. With the same goal as you, I wanted more of us in STEM careers, looking out for us. 

Reading. I wish I had more time to do it. A good book is always a great escape. 

Speaking of which, what are you getting into tonight? 

Mister Erik

“My night? Oh, just in front of my computer. Talking to a man, I didn’t even know existed until a week ago. Just spilling my guts.”

DeeDee never told anyone that her parents met at Southern, but something about Erik made her want to share that with him. Then realization dawned on her. It was another perfect set up for him to talk about his love life and he smoothly dodged it again.

“This damn man.” She rolled her eyes and got up to put the rest of the pizza away. 

“And of course, he used to work with kids.” Like he couldn’t be anymore interesting. DeeDee sighed as her smile returned. She grabbed another bottle from the fridge. It was definitely about to be that kind of night. 

DeeDee came back to the couch and picked up the notebook. She pulled out the neatly folded note, spread it flat and read it for the umpteenth time. 

On paper, he seemed like a dream. Talking to him, even better. There is no way that he was not happily taken by some extremely lucky woman.

DeeDee wondered what it would have been like if she had met him while he was still at Southern. She was on campus back then. A shy and soft-spoken junior who lived in the chemistry labs on campus. And Erik obviously would have been in and out of those same labs, too. 

It’s funny that they never did meet. “I would have remembered crossing paths with him.”

But then again, she didn’t meet Dr. O until he was a Grad Assistant for one of her organic chemistry classes. And she never thought, he would be her mentor when she joined the Ph.D program.  

And then there’s that part. One degree of separation and it just has to be that he is friends with Dr. O. Erik is obviously entertaining her for professional reasons, and not because he could be interested in her romantically.

“Get it together Dee. He is taken.” And yet, somewhere deep inside she kind of hoped that he wasn’t. That maybe he could see her for more than just his friend’s student. 

DeeDee looked back at Erik’s email, quickly wrote her reply and closed the laptop. She popped the cork on the new bottle and started drinking directly from it. With wine in hand, she got up and started swaying to the soothing sounds of Alex Isley and Masego’s ‘Good and Plenty.’ 

--- 

It had only been 15 minutes, but to Erik it felt like forever and he worried that maybe she did have other plans. He ran upstairs to change into some work out clothes and came down when his email chimed. He ran over to read it immediately. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik, 

I am sitting on my couch, enjoying pizza and wine. Although, my bottle is gone. 

Other than that, I have no plans for the night. 

I let my best friends drag me out last night, so indoors it is for me. 

What about you? Any plans for the evening, like with someone special? 

It’s pretty early over there; like 7 in Cali, right? 

Anyways, I should probably let you enjoy the evening. Don’t be a stranger.

Miss DeeDee

“Wait! What?” Erik rapidly typed his response and sent it to her. He dropped down onto his couch. “I really lost my touch and can’t even talk to a woman anymore.”

He only asked because he didn’t want to assume she was gonna be available to chat via email all night. Erik knew he would do it, too. He was fascinated with her. He wanted to hear whatever she was willing to share with him. And yes, that meant even if he eventually had to answer the question. 

Erik went to the kitchen and got two bottles of water. From the living room, grabbed the tablet and headed to his downstairs gym. If DeeDee stopped responding at least he could work off whatever feelings arose. He set everything down besides the punching bag.

---

DeeDee had danced and drank all around her living room. But once she started to spin, the dance party came to an abrupt halt. The wine finally caught up with her and she plopped down on the couch. She slowly leaned over to set the quarter full bottle down on the table and opened the laptop. 

She had a new email. She squinted at the screen. From Erik. 

Her chest started pounding, so she took a few deep breaths and opened it. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Miss DeeDee,

It is a rare night in for me. I usually work on Saturdays, but I have had the whole day to myself. 

I played ball with some kids from the neighborhood this morning. And I cooked earlier this afternoon and was planning to watch a movie before turning in. 

However, I have been having a wonderful conversation and don’t really want it to end. 

Would you care to join me on a video call?

Erik

“WHAT?” DeeDee threw her laptop down on the couch. She stood up and paced the floor, slowly. “He’s gotta be kidding. Right?” She looked at the message on the screen again. 

She sat back down and sent the first thing that came to mind. Was this actually happening? What is going on? Her thoughts were circling around in her head and all through a wine-induced fog. Just her luck. 

“He --” DeeDee giggled, “Oh my god.” She dropped her face into her hands. 

---

Cool, calm and collected, he was not. Erik’s stomach was in knots while he waited for DeeDee’s response, if any. He hit the punching bag a few times in jest before the nervous energy kept him going. He stayed there for 15 minutes before moving to the free weights in the corner. 

As Erik laid back on the bench to start lifting the barbell, he heard the email alert. He slowly sat up. His heart couldn’t race any faster since he had been working out anyway. But it felt like it was gonna just fly out of his chest. He wrung his hands while he sat on the bench. 

He stood up and made his way over to the punching bag where everything was. Erik grabbed a nearby towel and wiped himself off before he picked up the tablet. 

“Now or never.” He unlocked it and opened DeeDee’s email. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Uh Mister Erik, 

I am enjoying our conversation as well. But I am not camera ready. And I am definitely not changing to get ready either. 

Let’s do it some other time. 

DeeDee

Erik released the biggest breath. He didn’t realize that he was holding it as he read her answer. Then he started to chuckle. And that small chuckle grew into a big full body laugh. It even echoed off the walls, but he could not help it. He was relieved by what he read, and knew exactly how to respond to it. 

He grabbed all his stuff and left the gym. He went upstairs to his bedroom. Erik sent the email and dropped his tablet on the bed. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Now DeeDee, 

Did I say anything about being all dressed up for this call? Doesn’t matter if you are in a hoodie and some sweats. 

I just wanted to have the face-to-face interactions while we chat because I can imagine you pouting about a silly question. And I am sure you want to see my reactions to you calling me Mister after I told you not to. 

No pressure, though. You have my email, so use it to connect to me if you want. I’ll be around, you know, since it’s early over here. 

Erik

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​

[yasuda-anis]

A Blessing for a Friend

One of my first released works for Anis, I wanted to give something to a friend of mine. To @writer-and-artist27​, Vy I’m glad to have met you and I love your stories. I hope we can keep being friends for a long time.

As for what I listened to while I wrote this it’s Wonderful Future or Prekasno Daleko. Just cause I really like it and the mood got me excited. May your future be bright.

The heavy smell of bread blew into Anis’ face, fogging her glasses in a few seconds. It seemed that despite all the enchantments that Medea and others had placed on them for protection and preventing them falling off, some things could just never be avoided.     Anis waited a few seconds for them to clear up, enjoying the rich scent of vanilla and almost drooling. But it was important that the last part be done right.

If she messed this up, the whole thing would lose more than half the impact. But the heat coming out of the oven was still intense enough that she hesitated reaching in, even with her gloves and apron.     “Need a hand there Master?” A cheerful voice called out behind her before a large heavy paw settled on her shoulder. It was a familiar feeling, but something she hadn’t felt for a while. 

“Thanks Tamamo,” Anis sighed as she stepped aside. “I’ve been out of the kitchen for a long time so-”     “No problem, no problem Master!” She grinned as her tail whapped her master gently. “I see you when you come to eat everyday so I do see you. But this is certainly something new.”

Back in the days of Chaldea… that was - never mind. When she had first arrived Tamamo had been there for her. Making sure she ate, making sure she had someone to talk to, and more importantly, being there for the warmth Anis had been missing. Back then, Anis would always stop by at least once a week to be with her- to talk, be pampered, spar, or just to get some motivation. It had been some time since Anis had come back to see her.     Cat had come to visit herself mainly. But that was enough of that.     “It’s a bit of a special occasion,” Anis confessed, breathing in the warmth from the tray Tamamo passed under her. “I really wanted to do something for her.”     The fresh pastry was then quickly flipped over into a small basket, the smell of vanilla a bit more muted now. Cat moved over to bring over the picnic basket and pack in plates, utensils and some drinks.     Anis put on her gloves- made out of materials she was sure a regular mage would kill her for- and reached into a small box to pull out small clay figurines. She then cut small holes into the pastry and inserted them, quickly closing up the holes with nata.     The figures had been a group effort between her, Medea, and Nito. Making them heat resistant and non toxic had been a bit trick, but according to Medea the materials were easy enough to come by.     “All ready here!” Tamamo saluted with feral glee. “Now! Quickly before that other cat burglar comes in!”     Anis had factored in anyone coming in to try and steal it. But even the best laid plans need to adapt quickly, she thought as she wrapped it up in cloth and shut it in the basket. But alas, the smell, however faint, still escaped the basket. She would have to hurry. Or else…

“I’m off then! I’ll be back later!” Aniis yelled as she started moving quickly to the door. She could run. But the chances she could trip weren’t her main concern. Gotta act natural. I have an important appointment! But too fast and they’ll catch on!

    Tamamo waved her away with a handkerchief, calling out all sorts of fun jokes at her. Anis waved back and went off the hallway.

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

The hallways of Novum Chaldea were packed. The early days of an empty Chaldea faded in the first months, and Anis was used to wandering both in her old Chaldea and in this one like a metro station.     Staff and servants moved in their flows- the main speed being kept except for a few who were assumed to just be beyond reprimand. Anis would normally be a patient walker, her pace easily adjusted to suit whoever she was walking with. Today though she wove and dashed through the flow, trying to minimize her impact by calling out warnings to those ahead.

Excuse me! 

Pardon me! 

Sorry! 

Hi! 

Sorry, a bit busy! 

No problem, just gotta go!

Not right now thanks!

Oops! You good? I’ll make it up to you later!

Sadly though, the kids had caught her. As she expected. The child servants were always on top of any delicious snacks and treats in the base before the other two threats of Jaguar, who would demand them, and Ibaraki, who would never bother to ask and just take it.     I lost 5 minutes to negotiations, but hopefully I can still make it on time! The kids had realized quickly what the occasion was, but demanded an equal treat and participation in one of their tea parties. Apparently, Mori was hosting this one as his first foray into western tea ceremony. 

But there it was! The door to Vy’s room! With one of her servants waiting out front as usual. Today it happened to be Emiya and Artoria, or Art as Vy called her. The pair had been chatting in front of the door before noting Anis, a bit winded, approached them.

“Hello there you two,” Anis panted, checking inside the basket to make sure nothing had spilled. “Is she back yet?”

Opening the basket had apparently been a mistake, since the culinary duo immediately caught onto what sort of treat Anis had brought and smiled. “She is not back yet, but if what you brought tastes as well as it smells I should believe my master will enjoy it,” Arotria smiled, her gentle gaze clearly showing her desire to try some as well.

“It’s been a while since I smelled something like this. Is that-” Emiya approached, starting to reach out to the basket.

Anis flinched back, covering the basket with her free hand. “Sorry about that, it’s best as a surprise ya know? Don’t worry though, it’s meant to be shared.”

Artoria nodded. “Indeed. You should learn to be patient like me. After all, Miss Anis has told us quite clearly it was meant as a surprise for all of us.”     A letter had gone out to Vy’s main servants last week, indicating that on her birthday, they should split into two teams- one to distract Vy, and one to stand guard and prepare the room. Anis had barely made it to the room before the deadline.

Anis held out the basket to Emiya, until he took it with both hands. “I’ll just leave this with yall then and head off after telling her-”

“Telling me what?” 

“YA!” Anis yelled and stomped her foot hard to prevent from accidentally swinging her elbow towards the voice. A very bad habit that had been the sad result of both martial arts training and poor nerves. 

“Eeep! I-I’m sorry Aqui! I didn’t mean to scare you like that…” Vy mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s been a while since we saw each other, so-”

Anis breathed out, trying to relax. “It’s fine- fine” Anis breathed out again, her heart rate returning to normal. “Happy birthday Vy.”

She said it in the gentlest tone she had. Because it was her. One of the kindest souls she’d ever met, and deserved all the respect and charity the world had in return. Even Anis’ servants would treat her kindly and take time to chat with her from time to time. 

“Thankie Aqui,” she smiled back in the way that had made her so warm to all she met. “What's that? It smells delicious~” “Hold on there little sparrow,” Robin grinned as he put a hand on her shoulder, earning a small pout from her. “I think we should all go inside and get the full surprise right?” Anis nodded, glad to not disappoint. “We came up with a nice little thing for you Vy!” Anis smiled, something she wasn’t too familiar with, but she was glad her tone at least matched the mood. “I wanted to give you something as thanks for what you’ve given me and others here. And sorry to say, I won’t take no for an answer.” “Muuuu. This better not be something too big Anis.” _________________________

It was a simple affair. Anis had simply planned to leave the gift after explaining, but Achilles and Emiya had forced her to take a seat at the table. Apparently, she had a responsibility to see it through to the end.     The cake sat at the center of the table- a Rosca de Reyes, a delicious pastry in the shape of a round loop topped with concha sugar in vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. There were also some fruits as well, but only on half of the cake since Anis didn’t care for them.

The main gift though was the act of cutting the cake, Anis explained. “See, this is technically a celebration cake that’s eaten either on christmas, or on the actual feast day in January,” Anis explained as she passed the knife to Vy on the opposite side of the table.

“Let me get that for you,” Robin said as he started to reach out for the knife only to have Anis give him the look she usually gave those who started deviating from the rules in board games.

“The main thing is cutting it, Robin, so she needs to choose what part she wants and cut it herself,” Anis explained, tapping the cake. “It’s not just a cake you know, it’s a game.”

Vy tilted her head and squinted at the cake. “A… game? Like, with rules?” 

“Not that kind of game,” Anis chuckled as she waited for Vy to grip the knife. “See, it’s about making choices and seeing if you get lucky.” Vy still looked a bit confused, but eventually started cutting into the Rosca, the rich smell leaking out with each cut.

Crshh!!

“W-what was that?!” Vy pulled the knife out and looked inside the cut. “Is there food inside too? But it was so hard?”

“Got one already?” Anis asked, a bit surprised at the game starting off so quickly. “I tried to mix up the placement, but with your good fortune it makes sense you’d hit it off on your first try. Make your next cut for now, okay? But only cut as much as you can eat.”

    So Vy, still a bit confused, cut again, and hit something she couldn’t cut again. The look on her face though was more of curiosity and interest though, which helped relax Anis a bit. She held out a small spatula and Robin took it to lift her piece out, pulling a bit hard to separate the piece, revealing-

“What the? Is that?” Robin asked, not entirely sure of what had just happened.The other servants were all mostly curious as well, leaning forward to see. 

A small blue bird’s head poked out from the left side of the slice, the rest of its body supposedly buried inside. On the right side though, was a small tile with a flower motif that fell onto the plate with a small clink.     Vy picked it up and looked it over. The small white ceramic tile was two sided- a lily on one side and a lotus on the other.

“Two prizes so far Vy! Congrats!” Anis clapped, excited to see the reactions of surprise. “The game is meant to be that each person has a chance to find a prize and get good luck! I kinda adjusted it though and just made plenty of small prizes so every one of y'all could get something. So please, go ahead and enjoy it.”

Vy and the other servants started to get excited and began to cut their own slices to find prizes. A large variety of small figures and decorated tiles came out- a miniature crystal horse, a golden chariot, a lion cub, a golden ram, even a miniature Fou! The cake wasa soon gone and the figures were gathered in front of the empty plates, with Vy enjoying the rising atmosphere.

She deserves it honestly. She’s been working hard to take care of so many people. I just gotta give back something. Anis knew how late Vy stayed up at times- both working and because of stress. She also knew from how Fujino treated her that there were obviously more details about her past that shouldn’t be approached. But the unconditional love her servants had for her… Honestly, it made her a bit jealous. But that was fine. She had her own servants she cared for and could rely on. And a fellow master who she could always count on to hear a lovely tune sung or performed. A wonderful flower that bloomed once in the ice and now again in the sea. 

Thank you for being born Vy. I’m glad to have been able to meet you. And more so that you could consider me a friend. May you overcome all your hardships, and keep  your kindness forever.

[writingsbychlo]

rapp-ed around your heart (05)

word count; 10,584

summary; mitch finally gives you the last parts of him, deciding that he definitely has nothing left to lose, or hide, when it comes to being honest and true with you.

notes; in this part, we deal with a tiny little issue that comes up, as well as some cute moments with them getting closer and dealing with some stuff. 

warnings; hints as smut, and there’s the tiniest bit of angst.

The Midwest

Surprisingly, it was in a little ice cream shop at Mount Rushmore that Mitch truly opened up to you. The two of you spent the day wandering around the trails and looking at the carvings in the mountains, taking a lot of photos and simply soaking up the warmth of the sun, before settling to try the ‘historic’ ice cream. 

You were sharing a picnic bench, the fingers of one hand being played with by his own as it sat on the table, and you lapped at melting droplets of mint ice cream as he nursed his own cone of rocky-road. The cold and sweet treat was not something new to the two of you, you’d shared ice cream before too, but then he’d opened up about it. Something switched within him, and he spilt to you about how his mother used to give him a bowlful of the frosty treat as a reward every time he completed all of his homework when he was finished, and so it had become like a reward. Before this trip, he hadn't eaten ice cream in years, trying to stick to his healthy diet and workout routine, feeling guilty when he broke away from it, and feeling like he didn’t deserve such luxuries. 

That same confession had led to more, a heartfelt confession following you for the rest of the day as he told you everything he could think of, finally letting you not only past his walls but right into his heart and soul. The ‘Carver’s Marketplace’ had been where you stopped for dinner, the situation lightening up as you moved on to easier topics, chatting and joking around. A nap in the leftover heat of the day had been more than enough to see you through the drive to Minnesota, the dark hours carrying you through until you were arriving with the nighttime stars, hanging overhead in the low lights and twinkling enthusiastically overhead. 

It had been a joint call to splurge on another hotel, giggling kisses and hidden yawns as you waited in the elevator to get upstairs. He’d been ready before you had, and was half-asleep on the bed, spread out like a starfish under the covers as he waited for you on the queen-sized frame, and you’d crawled underneath to join him. In his haze, he had wrapped you up tightly in his arms, pulling you into his chest and tucking his chin atop your head, before letting out a soft sigh. 

That was exactly how you’d found yourself now, warm light filtering into the room to wake you up. Arms were still tightly wrapped around you, a bare chest under your cheek as you nuzzled further into him, a deep and raspy laugh rumbling from his chest as he realised you were awake too, and he squeezed you a little tighter. It was surreal, golden light flecks dancing throughout the room and off of the covers illuminating you both in a cloud of delicate light that left gentle shadows across the sheets when you lifted your hand to block the rays from your eyes when you cracked them open. 

“Good morning.” You huffed, the words contradicting the tone of your voice as you grumbled at the sun in your eyes, twisting your head to face the opposite way, using that hand to rub at your eyes. It was no use, you weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep now, and as you became a little more aware of your surroundings, the urge to move became overwhelming. That comfortable warmth was now stifling, and as much as you loved being wrapped up this mans arm’s you needed your freedom, and so you rolled to the side, stretching your arms up and over your head, letting out a happy sound when your muscles eased of their tension and your joints cracked as they loosened up. “Where are we again?”

“Uh, a hotel. I think.”

You scoffed rolling onto your side to face the man, lips pulling up a little in a smile as he lay there, on his side facing you but with his eyes closed, snoozing lightly as light puffs of air left his lips. “I meant where in the country.” You sat up some more, shaking your head clear as you folded your legs to sit crossed on the mattress, and he shuffled, lifting his pillow to rest in your lap as he moved, body curling so that he could adjust, and you chuckled, dropping a hand down to run through his hair. 

“Near a lake. Big one.”

“It’s Minnesota, right? God, I’m losing track of where we even are at this point.” You let out yet another yawn, before slowing your movements through the man’s hair, and he let out a whine of protest when you did, legs shuffling a little under the covers. “We should go out on the lake. It’s a nice day.”

“Or we could stay in bed all day.” He offered, reaching one hand up to pull your own back down to his hair, and you took the hint, deciding to give in and play with the strands a little longer. 

“We’re on a road trip, we can stay in bed all day any other time, we have to make the most of it.”

He did look up now, a cheeky grin on his face as he moved to sit up, enough to that he was kneeling before you on the mattress, and he was taking both of your cheeks into his hands as he squinted into the morning light. One side of his face was little red, a crumple left in his skin from a fold in the pillowcase, imprinted under his eye, and messy hair from the way that it had fallen, but he still looked absolutely perfect to you. “So, what you’re saying is that there will be more mornings like this in the future?”

You shrugged, feeling him nod his head encouragingly as he leaned in, stealing a quick kiss from your lips, before pulling away, letting out a contented little sigh as he seemed to wake up a bit more. “

“Fine, lake it is, I’m cool with that.” His nose dragged over yours, before he was standing up from the bed, wobbling a little on unprepared and tired legs, before shaking himself down and stretching out. “Let me shower first. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes, tops.”

You simply waved him off with a smile and a roll of your eyes, not missing the cheeky wink that he awarded you as he closed the bathroom door. 

You lay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the leftover warmth of your bodies from under the covers a little longer, before you forced yourself to up and roll from the bed. You straightened out the sheets, because despite knowing that you wouldn't be getting back into them tonight, you still thought it polite to straighten them up for the housekeeping team that would be in to strip and redress the bed for whoever was next. You did some scrolling on your phone and made some bookings for a boat tour in the later afternoon, and picked out your outfit. Simple was your theme today, laziness taking over as more eagerness to simply get out and on with the day took over, and you found yourself staring up at the clock as it ticked over into thirty minutes, a groan falling from your lips. 

It was a second later when it opened up, and you perked up from where you were crumpling the freshly straightened sheets, head peeking up from where it had been dangling over the mattress as he emerged from the steam, brows furrowing but a smirk finding his lips as he looked at you hanging upside down. 

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, just hanging out.” You mumbled, letting out a dramatic sound as you heaved yourself up into a sitting position, and soon made your way into the bathroom to be able to wash your face and clean your teeth. 

He joined you at the sink, nudging you to the side as he found his own toothbrush, a cheeky look in his eyes as they found yours in the reflection of the mirror, a spot you’d cleared from the fog on the glass, and you rolled your eyes despite your smile, letting your eyes scan over him instead. Black skinny jeans that did more for his thighs than you’d care to admit to him and heighten his ego further, and a forest green t-shirt on his arms, stretched a little across his shoulders, and you tore your gaze from him to spit into the sink, ignoring the muffled chuckle that rang out as he clearly caught you staring.

Washing off the brush, you tapped the loose water from it, before tucking it back into your cosmetics bag, and the fingers of one hand found your cheek. Guiding your mouth up to his, he tugged the brush from between his lips just before his mouth met your own, a soft and chaste kiss, but you smiled nonetheless, licking the taste of mint from your lips as his thumb moved underneath them to clear away excess foam, before he was letting you go. 

The previous late-night had led to sleeping in, skipping breakfast entirely and deciding to wander and sightsee until you found somewhere that you liked the look of to stop for your lunch. You walked hand in hand along the Duluth lakefront water walk, watching as boats raced around the water, knowing that it wasn’t long until that would be you. 

It was sweet, chatting about everything that came to mind, and yet when he passed a simple comment about how far around the country the two of you had come, you couldn't help but get stuck back on it. You were so close to making a full-circle loop, but with every destination that you passed, it was another place closer to bringing you home. Mitch on the road - now that you’d managed to muscle past his tall defences - was a completely different person to the one who’d climbed into your car on that first day. The working version of the man you’d come to know was completely different, he was stressed and angry and had a lot going on that made him fearful and locked away, and you weren’t sure if that version of him would still want you around. 

You also couldn't shake the feeling that as you closed in on the beginning of your trip once again, that he was finished, having been on the road for almost a month and a half now, and you would understand if he wanted to go home, and miss the last stops you had planned for yourself, but deep down, you were selfish enough to admit that you didn’t want him to. 

Your spiral of doubts was cut short when he’d presented you with a little restaurant with outside tables, not too far of a walk away from where you needed to be for your lake tour, and it was perfect for grabbing some lunch, so you forced back your thoughts to haunt you at another time, in favour for making space to acknowledge your hunger. 

After filling yourselves at the little street joint, you barely made it back in time for your boat, wobbling in your steps as you tried to board it, but you had made it eventually, and you were curled up in your seat as the two of you were taken around the edges of the lake, seeing everything from the East Channel lighthouse to the Grand Island caves, rock structures and picturesque settings atop clear blue water being perfect to take photos and make memories you’d never forget, your reflection offered back to you with perfect clearness among the ripples when you snook a look over the edge and into the water. The Spray waterfalls were serene and pretty, as were each of the little beaches and shores that you passed by, even stopping at one for long enough to slip off your shoes and dig your toes into soft sand and feel the water lapping at your feet, before you’d been back on your way. 

It was a kind of sightseeing that allowed you to get a beautiful experience without having to drive or walk yourselves, a welcome change, and you took it all in by cuddling up close to Mitch, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder and the other with your hands linked and sitting in his lap, the occasional small kiss or drag of his nose over your temple to reassure you that he was still there, and loving it all just as much as you were. 

Once the cool of the evening rocked around, you spent the night driving up to Minneapolis, the real location in which you were passing through Minnesota for. That night, you were curled up in the back of the car again, the place that had so rapidly become your home, and you were beginning to feel that you’d miss the cramped but cosy little space once you got home, your bedroom would feel like that of a palace as you gained all of the space back, and you just hoped not too many spiders had moved in with your absence. 

“‘m fuckin’ sleeping.” He muttered, and you giggled into his skin, pausing from where you’d been trailing kisses up and along his jaw, waking him up once the light of the morning had begun to seep into the car and disturb you from your slumber. You hummed in agreement, muttering out a cheery ‘okay’, before pulling back, and he groaned once again, tipping his face towards you and scowling without even opening his eyes. “I didn’t say stop.”

“I already have now, it’s too late.” He huffed out at that, his entire face becoming even more dismal, and you ignored his whines, busying yourself with sitting up properly, and searching around for your phone, tracing the charging wire to find the device down the back of a chair, and he gave in, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes to clear away any traces of sleep, before he was sitting up a little more himself head and shoulders propped up by freshly fluffed pillows. 

“Fine. I’m awake. What do you want?”

Well, well, someone is moody this morning.” You mumbled, looking down at your phone, and he reached a hand out, squeezing the bare skin of your thigh, fingertips digging into your muscle, before his head was leaning on your shoulder, a loud yawning sounding out. 

“Can’t blame me. You tease me with kisses and then refuse to give me anymore.”

“You didn’t ask for more, did you?” 

He twisted his head, pressing his lips to your cheek before stretching out, the sound of joints popping filling the small space as he awakened a little more. “That’s all it takes, then?”

“Ask, and ye shall receive.” You were a little distracted now, scrolling through your notifications, and two fingers redirected your face towards him, his lips already a little puckered as his own eyes were staring at yours as you nibbled on your lower lip. Leaning in, you dropped down your phone, hands finding his cheeks and you held onto him carefully, and you felt the soft sigh he let out in return as your lips worked together slowly. “See? Just like that.”

“You’re cute.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke the words, before he was pulling away, eyes travelling shamelessly along your body, and he grinned lopsidedly at the sight of you in one of the shirts you’d stolen from him, bringing up a finger to tug at the neckline. “Wearing my clothes already, huh? Awfully domestic of you.”

“I'm surprised you even know the word domestic.” You scoffed, and he flicked at your nose as retaliation, chuckling at the sound you let out in protest, but he then picked up the phone, holding it back out for you, and raising a brow. 

“So, do we have a plan, or are we winging it today?”

“Not so much a plan, just a few ideas.” He prompted you on with a single look, and you pulled up your notes, going over some of the things you’d brainstormed to do, choosing the ones that you were most in the mood for. “We could go to Minnehaha park, and the falls, an-”

“Say that again?”

“Minnehaha?” You questioned, watching as he snickered at the word, and you rolled your eyes as realisation found you. “Oh, you are such a child.” Despite chastising him, you couldn't help but laugh a little yourself, the two of you giggling at the word, finding more entertainment than it actually provided. 

“Sounds fun, you wanna’ find us somewhere to go wash up and get some breakfast?” He tapped at the screen, and you hummed, switching to google maps and finding your next stop as he climbed up and into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life underneath you. 

Upon finding one, you hooked up the device to the car, directions reading out clearly over the speakers, and seated yourself in the passenger seat. After a quick clean up and more than enough jam and toast for one lifetime, you were on your way, the final chunk of the journey before reaching the capital city, and your day was truly beginning. Warmth washed over you both, the park welcoming you as the day hit noon, and you couldn't decide which direction you wanted to walk in first. 

It was large, you wanted to see the falls, as well as the bridges and the little wooden gazebos, and so you were left with hours to simply walk the pathways and take your time in admiring everything. You had settled on starting out with one of the less crowded routes, not wanting to fight through the crowds to get to attractions and so you were more than happy to take the scenic routes. 

“Have you ever danced under one of those?”

“A gazebo?” He snorted, letting you hook your arm through his as the two of you wandered away across the gardens, following the paths under the shading of trees, the sunlight filtering through between the leaves and catching the golden specs in his eyes as you looked up at him. You only nodded though, and he let his gaze flick over to one of the structures, taking it in carefully, and his smile faded away, becoming more nostalgic than cheerful, and he swallowed thickly. “No, but I know Kat wanted to at her wedding. I was her date to a family party once, it was in a park, and the band was playing on one. She told me she wanted to dance on one at her wedding.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch..”

Your words came out like a whisper, a disapproving sound in the back of his throat sounding, and he pulled his arm from yours, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, curling you into his body, warm hand running up and down your arm. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I don’t know. For making you talk about it? It just seemed like one of those times a person would apologise.”

“It doesn’t hurt to talk about anymore, and it’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before clearing his throat a little, and you watched as heat crawled up his cheeks, tinting them a shade of pink that made him look positively adorable, your heart flipping in your chest as the two of you continued to meander along the trails. “She’ll always be special to me, y’know? It’s nice to be able to talk about her now, she was important to me. It’s nice to have a girlfriend who doesn’t mind me talking about my past, and someone I don’t have to hide things from. It’s really nice, actually.”

It was the first time either of you had put a label on anything, and well he had said it so casually you’d think it was the thousandth time he'd spoken the word. The blush on his cheeks and the way he was suddenly fascinated by the pebble he was kicking along and scuffing the toes of his sneakers with was a different story, though, and it made you want to snicker at the different sides of him. He would have the world believe he was locked off and cold, but in reality, he was nothing but a softie at heart, made up entirely of mush and warmth and insecurities, and you loved knowing the real side of him. 

You pulled him to a stop, catching his lips with your own before he’d even had a chance to ask what was wrong, and he let out a high-pitched sound of content surprise into your mouth, before he was pushing back into you with just as much enthusiasm, his hands coming to settle on your waist. Tugging you infinitely closer, there was no space left between your bodies, your arms looping around his neck to hold him close as palms smoothed over your bag, fingers dancing along your spine. 

It was deep and passionate, nothing sexual and nothing more needed, just enough to conform between you both that he’d said the words and you’d accepted them, and agreement on where the two of you stood without stuttering words and heated cheeks needing to flame up, but simply a confession without words. Soft lips teased over your own, dragging in delicate motions before he was diving in, taking it as far as to tease you with drags of teeth over soft skin, before he was returning to barely brushing his mouth over your own at all. 

Your heart was racing and your head was spinning, and you were broken apart only when your body was shoved a little by a dog that was racing past at high speeds, bumping your leg with enough force to send you stumbling a little, and two young children raced past after it, a huffing and puffing father following too. 

You weren’t sure what to expect really, that was exactly what happened when you stopped in the middle of a park pathway to kiss your boyfriend, but you wouldn't change it for the world. His nose was bumping against yours, a soft chuckle leaving him, before you were taking your place by his side once again, slipping your hand into his and weaving your fingers together. 

You were more than happy to just trail around the park with him, letting him guide you, and it seemed he didn’t know where the two of you were going either, but you were soaking up the days with him, making the most of your trip. You were more than halfway through, almost at the end of it all, and yet you still didn’t know whether to or not you were ready for it to end. You’d planned this trip around finding yourself, around discovering who you really were. It wasn’t that you had no idea who that was, but busy lives and societal stress had a way of trying to mould you and force you into being someone else, and along the way, you’d not only remembered who you were, but you’d also managed to wrangle Mitch back into being himself, you’d helped crack him out of the cement that was sealing him down, and you just hoped that at the end, he didn’t retreat back into the stone.

After your walk through the park, you got dinner, sharing a bowl of pasta and a pizza over the table, before heading back to the car. You took the long route, though, wandering for a while through the streets, and watching as the sun set over the skyline of Minnesota, pastel colours painting the skies. Blues and oranges that made the clouds look purple and grey, a surreal kind of painting that silhouette everything before it as not to be outshone. Beauty created by nature that you oh-so-loved to see, never getting tired of watching the sun dip below the horizon, signalling the end of another day, only to promise to return to you hours later, and bring a whole new realm of possibilities when it rises again.

He chose to drive, as long as you sorted through the music, his boldness shining through more and more over the last few weeks, and he was judging your taste in music as the last few songs made him cringe, so if he was driving, you had to properly DJ for the pair of you, and keep his mood up with better songs. 

Night crawled in over the sky as pastels faded into something deeper and darker, and you were left to simply admire the way the night moved on instead. A few snacks and a lot of singing later, your throat was a little sore and your voice slightly raspy, as was his own, sleep threatening to come and claim the both of you, the highway fading away into the distance as you pulled off onto the side roads.

“You know, we’ve done all the long drives now. We only have all the little ones, they’re all five hours or less.” You offered, pulling out the large paper map and spreading it out across your lap as Mitch drove, the fabric rustling as his hands shifted out from your thigh to allow you to smooth it down. 

“I would still consider five hours a long drive.”

“Yeah, well, you only have to do half of them, don’t you? We’ll swap halfway.” You dragged your finger over all the spots you’d passed, overdue on crossing off each of your places, before shuffling around through every place you could think of to find your marker. You checked the glovebox, the dashboard, and the cupholder, before finally finding it buried in the side-compartments of the door. 

“Hey, I’ll happily do the drives, I just think we have different definitions of what is a long drive.” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes, uncapping the marker with your teeth and crossing off all of the locations up to where you were, ‘Wisconsin’ being the next place up on your tour of the country. Folding your map away, you tucked it back into place, waiting patiently for Mitch to give you his attention again, and when he didn’t, you reached across the console to take his hand in your own, pulling it back to smooth over your thigh, and he chuckled, letting you unfurl his fingers until he could squeeze at your thigh reassuringly. 

“Okay, we have quite a few options for things to do in Wisconsin, you ready to hear ‘em?”

“Shoot!” He cheered, and you jumped a little at the exaggerated enthusiasm he gave to you, before you were giggling along at the way he smirked pridefully at having scared you. “Sorry, baby, go ahead.”

“Okay, well, we have a lot. We have general touristy attractions, as well as some better things, and some options on places to eat, too.”

“Start with activities.”

You nodded your head at his command, scrolling down through the notes on your phone, thumb flicking quickly, before finding where you needed to be. He was following the occasional commends from the device you held as it guided you both in towards a truck stop that you could pull over onto for the night, taking a break from the long day you’d had and all the driving you’d done, the bed beginning to call for you both, but you wanted somewhere safe to stop, first. “Okay, so we could go to a waterpark? I don’t know if that’s your thing, but it’s an option.”

“Pass. I like waterparks, but the ones where it’s hot. Wisconsin feels a bit cold for that.”

“Fair point. A ‘no’ on the waterpark, then.” You crossed it off of the list, before finding the next one, and grinning at the suggestions came up. “We also have an amusement park, Olbrich botanical gardens, the cave of mounds, Milwaukee river wal-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back by one?”

“The cave of mounds?” A bashful smile broke out on his face, and as he made yet another turn down some of the dimly lit roads, his head twisted towards you to give you a disbelieving look. “What?”

“You don’t find the humour in that?” You thought about it for a second, before letting out a groan with your breath. 

“You’re such a child!” You slapped at his arm, ignoring the sound that he let out in protest, and fighting back with the hand he freed from the steering wheel to fight back, the car jerking roughly with every slide the two of you made, swerving on the empty roads, before you called it a draw, weaving into the parking lot, spotted with other vehicles around the place.

“C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t find it entertaining! The cave of mounds.” His hand on your thigh again slipped a little lower, pushing between your legs and you gasped, before smacking him away and he smirked to himself, before using both hands to find somewhere to park, away from everyone else. “I know a mound with a cave that I’d very definitely like to explore.” 

As the car died, he turned towards you, and you felt the heat wash over your features quickly, gaping at him a little. “You are awful. That was awful.” 

He leaned over the centre, brushing a stubbled cheek against your own, before pulling your lower lip away a little in a loose bite, letting it go when you whimpered for him. “C’mon, you telling me you don’t want me to explore your cave?” You wanted to gag at the way he phrased it, but the pun entertained you both, and you whined as he climbed between the seats and into the back, kicking off the shoes and throwing them forwards, one of them bouncing from the wheel and dropping into the driver’s seat. “Gonna’ come back here and join me?”

“I haven’t even read you the place to eat yet!” You scoffed, but toed off your shoes anyway, unclipping yourself from your seat, and he grinned as you crawled between the seats. He took the phone from your hands, clicking it off and leaving it on the cushion you’d just abandoned, before his body was pressing your own back onto the mattress, hands supporting his weight on either side of you as his lips brushed teasing over your own. 

“I already know what I want to eat.”

His tongue flicked out over your upper lip as you gasped, a hand lacing into his hair as you grinned, giving into his wicked ways, before letting his mouth clash with your own.

Following Wisconsin was Chicago, and you arrived in the early evening, pulling up into a truck-stop not too far outside of the city. It was one of the nicer ones that you’d been too, that was for sure, it was well lit without the lights being dingy and flickering yellow, and it wasn’t as dirty and grubby as the others. The usual diner that you expected was more of a restaurant and bar, it seemed far too elegant to be classed as a ‘diner’, even if it did still have that kind of oldies vibe, with plush leather seats and songs that were older than Stan playing over the speakers. 

You were then happy to use the bathrooms within which to change, you were certain that the patrons and staff here had seen more unusual and concerning things than you wandering around in a set of Bambi themed pyjamas, drinking hot cups of tea in the corner with a man in sweatpants and a hoodie. After all, no matter how classy it was, it was still a truck-stop. 

Your first real day in the Windy City was quickly decided to be spent sightseeing, a decision the two of you had settled on over hot coffees and toast, before preparing yourselves for the day. 

Today, you would be all-out tourists, even if just for twenty-four hours. 

You were all but buzzing in the car as you walked along towards Millennium Park, your hand woven with the one belonging to the man beside you, your side pressed up to Mitch’s, cuddled in close to him, as a scarf sat wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm and help fight the slight chill being carried on the breeze. 

“I want to see the big, shiny bean.”

“The what?” You could hear the incredulity on his voice, humour laced with it, and you grinned, hiding the expressing in the edge of the wool sitting up near your face. 

“You know, that big thing that’s shiny and shaped like a bean.” 

“Do you mean the ‘Cloud Gate’ sculpture?” You let out a hum, and he scoffed under his breath, squeezing your hand in his a little tighter. “That is one of the most famous pieces of artwork in the world, I can’t believe you just called it ‘that big, shiny, bean thing’.” You turned to face him a little more, narrowed brown eyes with a honey-coloured tint already peering at you, his lips twisted down in a frown, but the little ticks along his muscles told you he was still deeply amused by it all. “You’re the worst. I can’t believe you don’t even know the names of these things.”

“Oh, hush. Stop being such a sourpuss.” 

He grinned at you then, a smile like the Cheshire cat at what he was clearly taking to be a compliment, in his own twisted and unusual ways, but he didn’t have a chance to respond, as the two of you made it into the square, and you were letting out an excited squeal as the sight you were waiting for came into view. It was glimmering, clean and sparkling with the lights of the sun and the office buildings standing tall around it, reflecting from its perfectly untarnished surface, and your pace picked up a little. 

There were many other people crowded around, groups of tourists and other couples, as well as people who were slightly less fazed by the beautiful sighs, clearly locals who were accustomed to seeing it every day. Business workers rushed around in smart suits and blazers, briefcases in hand and glasses sitting on the tips of your nose as they barked orders into their phones, uncaring of who’s shoulders they bumped as they passed by, and even if being in the lesser-known world that your boyfriend and uncle worked in, you’d never trade or for a boring nine to five any day, you secretly liked a little thrill. Basic was never something you could roll with.

Placing your hand flat to the cool metal, Mitch did the same, both of you watching in awe as the slight fog that had built up in place fade away quickly, as though you’d never touched it at all. 

“It’s so clean.”

“I was just thinking that.” He mumbled, licking the tip of his finger and smearing it over the surface, before watching as that seemed to dry and disappear too, leaving no trace of his disgusting act. You were staring at him, jaw dropped a little, and he turned to face you, raising his brows as you did, and you didn’t give up on the stare. “What?”

“You did not just lick the shiny bean thing.”

“I didn’t!” his face screwed up a little at the thought, nose wrinkling as he scowled at the idea, and your brows only shot up further. “I didn’t! I licked my finger, and then wiped it on the metal. I wanted to see how it stayed so clean, it’s weird!”

“It’s gross!”

“I didn’t put the finger back in my mouth afterwards!” He was smiling now, a few people glancing over at your raised voices as you argued playfully, and he made an attempt to tug you in closer, but you resisted, fighting off his attempts at affections as you held your end of the argument. “So, my spit is gross now?”

“Yes!”

“You don’t seem to have that opinion when you’re swapping spit with me late at night.” He teased, nipping a little at your ear as he managed to wrangle you until your back was pressed to his chest, and you gave in, letting him wrap his arms around you full, and press an overly wet kiss to your cheek, that made you groan out at him. “Say it! Admit that you like it!”

“It’s different!” You laughed, letting him walk you away from the crowds some more, and he shook his head, spinning you around to face him once again, a question silent on his tongue but dancing in his eyes as he watched you. “You know it's different.”

He grinned, lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, before he shrugged giving in. “Fine, it’s different. Whatever.” 

He let out a heavy sigh, and you cheered under your breath as he caved, quietly acknowledging your victory. “So, what do you want to do, Mr Rapp?”

“I like when you say that.” He grinned, bumping the tip of his nose over your own, before taking your hand, guiding you along and away from the busy spots, leading you in slow steps as he considered it all. “Let’s do that tall tower thing, you know? The one with the glass deck you can stand on. We could take some pretty awesome pictures.”

“That ‘tower thing’? With the glass?” You rolled your eyes, and he shot you a dirty look, already seeming to guess where this was going, lips pursed as he watched your face grow in extreme mischief, biting on the inside of his cheek to contain his sounds of distaste. “Do you mean the Willis Tower sky deck?”

“Yes.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth, his body going a little rigid in his steps and he fixed his gaze ahead, ignoring everything you said at this point, but that didn’t stop you from carrying on.

Your voice dropped down to mimic his own as you spoke a variation on his own words back to him; “I can’t believe you don’t even know that names of these things.” 

“I don’t like you.”

“Yes, you do!” You sang the words, giggling when he growled under his breath in warning, but only a second later, he was pulling you in close, cutting off your taunting and teasing as his mouth sealed over yours, a squeak leaving you when his tongue swept over your lower lip. 

You weighed the argument in your mind, knowing that you were in public, and that hew as trying to distract you from mocking him some more, but you couldn't think straight with the way his fingers inched under the edge of your jacket, warm palms barely blocked from your skin by a thin layer of material, before he was pulling you in closer. Your front was pressed up to his, heart beating wildly in your chest, and he let out a disappointed sound on the back of his throat as you resisted him.

Instead, he swapped tactics, sucking the plump piece between his own, grazing over it with his teeth, and letting out a breathy sigh as you gasped at the sensation, before giving in, your mouth parting further until his tongue tangled with your own, your arms looping around his neck to hold yourself closer to him. You could feel his smile now, pressed to your mouth as you gave into his touch, caving into him, and he was more than happy to take from you anything that you’d give him. 

When the burn for oxygen became too much, you broke away, the heat of embarrassment on your cheeks being enough to chase out the cold, and he was painting a little too, the red on his pale flesh showing that he felt the same as you, but it didn’t stop him from stealing a few more pecks form you each time you tried to speak or catch your breath. 

“What was that about?”

“Had to shut you up somehow.” He grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulder to hold you to his body, without ever letting go of your hand. “Swapping my gross spit with you seemed like a good way to go about it.”

“Are you going to let that go?”

“No. Probably not.” He teased, pulling his phone from his other pocket and beginning to search for directions to the Sky-deck, before a sudden chuckle left him. “We both know I’m really good at holding grudges.”

Your breath hitched in your throat for a second as you weighed out the dark joke, replaying his words in your mind to be sure you’d heard them correctly, and they still felt surreal, before you were letting out a laugh yourself at his statement. “I cannot believe you just made that joke.”

“It’s my trauma and I’ll joke about it if I want to.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head, following the directions being read out from the device in his hand as the voice guided you toward your next attraction a shake of your head carrying you through. It was a short and brisk walk, followed by further bickering, lighthearted and instantly forgotten as you wandered along, and much to your joy, there was only a short queue to get to the little glass platform, but once you reached it, you couldn't deny just how exceptional the view was. 

It was so high up that the view granting you the ability to look all the way out to the horizon, the greys and dull browns of the city fading away into shades of green towards the edges, countryside and trees taking over from cityscapes and concrete, and it was breathtaking. Pressing both of your hands up to the glass, you took it all in, observing the beautiful sights, and memorising it all, before looking down, fear striking through you as you took in the clear glass below you that slipped away into nothing, one hundred and three stories up into the air, and supported by nothing but a sheet of clear glass, the people buzzing around below your sets of feet was terrifying, and yet adrenaline searched through you just at the idea.

“It’s scary, right?”

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, big shot assassin and all?” He grinned, shaking his head, hair flopping into his eyes and before he could push it away himself, you raised your hands up, cold fingertips smoothing over his cheeks before pushing the silky hair away from his face, his eyes fixed on your own the entire time. His head twisted to the side, lips brushing over your palm in a sweet gesture, before he was wiggling his phone at you once again.

“Want to take a picture? I need a new lock screen.”

“Sure!” He unlocked the phone, letting you guide him into a position you liked as you took in the landscape, before you were cuddling into his side, offering a sweet smile to the camera as he matched it, and he pressed his thumb down on the button, both of you pulling it back to look at it. As selfies went, it wasn’t horrendous, but it certainly wasn’t the best picture ever, and you frowned at the light that was covering your faces in an odd glow as the light came through the glass. “Huh. Not our best picture.”

“Yeah. I can agree with that. You still look cute, though.”

“I kinda’ look like a frog, if you squint.” He did as you said, before laughing at it, turning to look at you and squinting, and you shoved your hand in his face as he held the phone up in comparison. “Don’t get it stuck in your head.”

“You’re a cute frog, at least!” He grinned at you, letting you snatch the phone from his hand. You wandered away, passing it to a mother who was tiredly staring at here three kids as they blew hot air onto the windows and drew faces and wrote rude words, and she seemed more than happy for the distraction, even if it was just taking pictures for someone else. Making your way back over to him, he already had his arms held out for you, and you turned to face the woman as she gave you both a countdown. You felt lips brush your ear as she reached two, warm breath washing over your skin, making you shover a little as he whispered into your ear; “Ribbit.”

You couldn't help it, the normal smile you had held morphing into a whole-body grin, his arms around your waist being all that held you upright as you tried to curl in with your amusement, and she walked back over, giving the device back to you quickly, before dashing off to wrangle her kids back up. You took it, looking down at the image, and despite his sudden mumblings into your ear, it was still one of the best photos the two of you had ever taken. 

You were silhouetted against the backdrop, his nose brushing your cheek as your eyes closed, a wide grin on your face, holding tightly onto one another as sunlight poured in from behind, and the glass was barely noticeable, almost making the two of you look as though you were floating on the light above the city. 

“Okay, that’s a good one, admittedly.” 

The two of you stepped away from the spot as he hummed, letting the next people have their turn, and instead you watched as he set the new picture onto his phone as the wallpaper, and you leaned in, kissing a stubbly cheek quickly as your chest bubbled over with warmth from the inside out. Sticking your hands into your pockets, you wiggled numbing fingers a little, wishing you’d brought gloves, but you were more than happy to deal with the cold if it meant getting to cuddle into his side like you did every time he wrapped his arm around you, like he was doing right now. 

Fingertips tucked under the edge of your shirt, nails brushing over bare skin as he traced unrecognisable patterns, phone back into his jacket pocket securely. “So, what now?”

“Well, I heard there was a drive-in movie place near here. Wha’d’ya say we get some takeout food, and go and check it out. If we park the car backwards, we don’t even have to get out, we can just cuddle in the bed and watch.” He shrugged a little, letting you go so that you could begin to climb down the stairs on your way back towards the streets, and you thought it all over.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

You had a surprise for Mitch on your second day in Chicago, and you were bursting to tell him about it, but had saved the thought until after you’d had your breakfast. Instead of the usual diner, you’d waited long enough to find a little outdoor café, sipping on mimosas and you giggled about the fancy life you could have had if you’d taken different paths at different stages of your lives, but you still reminisced about everything that led you to being right here, with one another. 

You walked along the rover, burning off the champagne in your drinks before stopping for a quick bite at lunch, and then, you were leading him along towards the next attraction you had in store, under the guise of a simple walk to explore. He began to catch on part of the way around, the posters and signs starting to give it away, and while you didn’t confirm it until you were getting into the museum, he spent a good ten minutes almost bouncing in his steps as you walked. 

It was adorable, the way he let loose and actually allowed himself to feel the excitement he had as you walked along, a tour of a world war two submarine, because you weren’t blind to the way he’d been excited about the other kinds of attractions you’d visited during your time on the road. He was grinning madly when he looked at the sight, being guided down underground to where it lay, and you heard him gasp audibly when it came into sight.

It truly was incredible, so big you had to tilt your head just to see the entirety of it. The length of a city block, massive and supported on stilts, and you had no idea how much it must weigh, but it was an incredible feat, and even you were excited to learn about it. The dock along the side of it was decorated with interactive pieces from within, as well as pedestals with information on them, and scripts to be read, explaining and giving insight on what you were seeing, plenty for the two of you to learn about.

It took all afternoon and into the late evening, only leaving when you were eventually beginning to be ushered out by the workers, and you were pretty sure he’d memorised every piece of information, and he was all but walking on clouds as you made your way back to the car, intending to get a good night’s sleep before your journey tomorrow as you drove up to Michigan would begin. His arms were wrapped around you, and it seemed that you had inadvertently bought yourself some extra affections, because he was peppering kisses to your skin and nuzzling his nose into your temple the entire way home, snuggling you close into his body and holding on tightly.

“I take it that you had fun, then?” You teased, slipping off your shoes to try and wiggle into your pyjamas, and you let out a distant sound of protest when he snatched your clothes from your hands, before his fingers were smoothing over your cheeks, pulling you down to his mouth as he rolled your body on top of his. 

“I had the best time. It was amazing.” He whispered the words into your mouth, syrupy sweet kisses given to you between words, and you were left breathless as he incessantly kissed the air form your lungs, but you didn’t care, because the burning inside only made everything feel more heightened, your head spinning and hazy. “I’m not used to people doing such nice things for me anymore, so thank you.”

“It was just some tickets to see a submarine, I feel like you’re giving me more in return than I gave you.” You teased, and he gassed, nipping on your lower lip, and using the tip of his nose to move your head to the side, dragging his mouth along your jaw and further down. You could barely think straight as he sucked at the tender skin along your collarbones, pushing your shirt up a little so that he could rest his hands on your waist, and you took his face in your hands, bringing his gaze back to yours, and he peered up at you through dark eyes, vulnerability flashing over his features. 

“It was nothing, Mitch, I just wanted to make you happy. Clearly, I got that right.”

He stared up at you, swallowing thickly before nodding his head, and he pulled you down into his arms, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths were shared, intimate and loving and you held one another. “Thank you.”

His voice cracked as he spoke, and you dragged your lips over his in a final kiss, before curling down into his body. “You’re welcome.” You pressed a hand over his heart, feeling it thud steadily and quickly under your palm, before your nails were scratching a little at his skin through the henley on his chest, scrunching it up in your hands as you clung to him. “So, you wanna’ tell me about your favourite part of the submarine?”

“Fuck, yeah, I do.”

Michigan featured a trip out to Mackinac Island, arriving in the late morning after breakfast on the road, Mitch having kept you up late into the night to talk, everything from the submarine, to other random facts he knew about war vehicles - seemingly a passion of his that you’d unlocked, and you made a mental note to make more historical-feature related trips with him in the future - and it had devolved into meaningless chatter. 

Soaking up the sun with pretty sights and beautiful settings, you wandered the whole expanse, pretty white buildings and greenery, with streets of cobblestones, bicycles riding up and down in place of tyre tracks and pollution, and it was a little snap out of reality. There were horses pulling carts along the streets and lampposts with hanging flowers, old-fashioned and beautiful with bulbs that would light up when darkness came around, and you could only imagine how ethereal the beautiful streets would look when glowing with the golden light that would spill from them. 

A break away from reality, something that seemed like you’d stepped into a painting, like another world in a movie or the kind of setting you could only picture in your mind or found described in a good book and a grizzly and grey day, filled with rain on lashing windows. You would’ve loved it in the rain or the snow, but you were fortunate enough to enjoy it with golden hues from the sun cast down over you both, sunglasses perched on your nose and his as you took in everything the little island had to give.

The pair of you were unwilling to leave until the sun was setting and it was getting too cold to remain outside any longer, and yet you still lingered for as long as you possibly could. It was surreal, memories you’d never forget, and you were too tired on the way back to the car to even think about the words Mitch was saying, to properly process them as you leant onto his shoulder and let him prop you up as you walked along, your cheek pressed to the curve of his arm as your eyes fluttered, closed longer than they were open, and you moved through your bedtime routine on autopilot. 

He was whispering quiet words to you about how you’d almost come full-circle, chatting about everything the two of you had done so far around the trip, and while you could only hum along and nod with a sleepy smile now as he curled you into his arms, those same thoughts would come back to haunt you with troubles and worries in the morning.

You were squirming a little in your seat, keeping your eyes locked on the road ahead, fingers picking at the material of your leggings on the leg closest to him, a bid to keep his hand off of you, even though he occasionally managed to sneak his hand onto the spot for a little while when your guard fell. 

You were trying your best, but you weren’t excellent at hiding how you felt. You may have been trained by the best in the business at the physical aspects, but you were never good at the rest that came with that job field. You were an open book, you didn’t possess the same ability to lock everything up tight like Mitch did, or create a façade of anger and arrogance like your uncle did. The atmosphere around you was stagnant and bored, the conversation having fizzled out long ago, the music being all there was to keep you company as the two of you hummed along in quiet, and you knew that Mitch could tell something was up, but he wasn’t pressing on it, and you were thankful for that. 

When you passed the sign welcoming you into Dayton, Ohio, you were met with a soft sigh from him, and he flicked on the indicators, pulling onto the side of the road. You watched in confusion, a strangled noise leaving him as he cut across the lanes, ignoring the honking and swerving of other cars, before the vehicle was shuddering a little bit and rolling to a stop along the mud and gravel, and he turned to face you, making a point of switching off the car, keys jingling. 

With a forearm resting over the steering wheel, his entire body twisted, and you swallowed thickly, avoiding his gaze and choosing to stare out at the road, tracking the other cars with your eyes to keep you busy as his stare burned into the side of your face. 

“Alright, spill. Did I do something? Because, kitten, if I did, I’m sorry. Just tell me what’s up so I can fix it, because I don’t like this dead air between us. Now I get how you felt for that first week or so, and it fucking sucks, alright?” He huffed, and you gave in, guilt eating away at you as you turned to face him, and he leaned in over the console a little bit, but it didn’t give him much access to you. He shook his head instead, growling a little under his breath at not being able to reach you, and you gave him the most reassuring smile that you could muster. 

“You didn’t do anything. I was just thinking about what we should do today. We have two options, but they’re at other ends of the state, and I was just weighing the pros and c-”

“Bullshit. Why are you lying to me?” He fixed you with a pointed look, your jaw snapping shut, a tick in the muscle from the force at which the muscles clenched. “Please.”

His voice cracked a little as the beg came out, wide brown eyes shining as he stared at you, vulnerable and lost and a little bit upset, and you caved in, your hands clenching up as you pulled them closer to your chest to try and cave in on yourself, but he was watching you carefully as you sat there, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He moved when you looked up, your eyes wider than his own and he knew it wasn’t something he had done, and his hands fumbled to unclip himself from the car. Only a second later, his door was opening, and you were watching with a hanging jaw as he rounded the vehicle in a jog, before opening your side too. 

He reached over your body, undoing your buckle too, and manhandling you in the leather seat until he had you twisted around, parting your legs to be able to stand between them as he rose a hand to tuck stray hair away from your face, palm settling over your jaw and fingers digging into your neck a little, thumb tracing soothing patterns from where it lay. “Just tell me, what’s wrong?”

“You know this could be our last day, right?” His brows furrowed, a wrinkle forming between them, and you raised your finger to smooth it away, feeling him chuckle a little at the action, but continue to wait for your explanation. “We’re close to Virginia now, and we’ve been on the road for, like, two months. If you were sick of it now and wanted to go home, I’d get it.”

“Sick of it?” 

You shrugged, knowing that he’d picked up the hidden meaning in your words, and his hands dropped down, large palms massaging at your thighs on either side of his waist in a comforting act, before he was leaning in, and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, one that had your stomach swooping with butterflies, like the feeling of dropping on a rollercoaster, before he was pulling away, lips brushing over your forehead. He let out a little sigh, before making sure you were looking at him as he grinned, raising his brows a little as he tried to ease your nerves.

“What’s your plan, kitten? What are you planning to do?”

“Well, I want to go right up around New York and such too, full circle, y’know?” You made a circle motion with your hands, both of you laughing quietly. “It’s another week and a half’s worth of stops, maybe? Not too long, but if you wanted to go home, I would understand.”

“What I want is to get the full road trip experience with you, and I want to go.”

You perked up, looking up at him with wide eyes, finally bringing your own hands up to smoothing along his arms and to his shoulders, shuffling forward to the edge of your seat and pressing your forehead to his own. “Really?”

“This is what you’ve been panicking about this whole time? Why you’ve been giving me the silent treatment for two and a half hours?”

He shook his head, a breathy sound leaving him, the exhale washing over your face, and he grinned cheesily, bringing your mouth back to his. It was a reassuring kiss, comforting and caring, and making your heart slow from the irregular and erratic pumping it had been doing with your nerves racing, leaving you instead to lace your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as your head tipped to the side. Like velvet and silk, your mouths slid together, harmony in their movements, and you drowned into his touch, just for a little while. 

“Please can we go back to normal now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I got all wrapped up in my thoughts, and I-” You choked on your words, letting out a ragged sigh, and he stepped back long enough to let you see his entire face. 

“This road trip changed my life, and I want to finish it.”

You just nodded your head, receiving a final kiss from him, before he was untangling his body from your own and circling back to his own seat, as you slammed shut the door and fastened yourself into your seat once again. Once the car had started up and you were back on the road, he held his hand out to you, which you now had no qualms in accepting, slipping your palm up to his, and letting him lift your hand to his mouth, lips pressing to your knuckles sweetly. 

“How about you choose what we do for the day? For real, this time. Tell me what would cheer you up.”

“Why don’t we go to the airbase, it’s near here. Then we can get some food that looks so damn good, it’s Instagram worthy.” He let out a chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You want to go to the air force base? Really?”

“Well, I’m pretty evenly split on both the possible activities, but I know that you really want to go to the air force base, and so I am more than happy to do that with you.” He let out a teasing ‘awe’ at your words, and your cheeks heated up with a flush of embarrassment. 

“Okay, air force base it is.” He whispered, settling your joint hands over the gear stick to switch as needed, but never letting you go, holding on tightly as he began to follow the signs flashing up along the side of the road to guide you on your way.

[puppywritings]

set up

pairing: qian kun x male reader

word count: 1,576

decription: your boss had been pestering you about meeting her gay son for a while. little did she know, the two of you knew each other all too well.

a/n: no outright smut but definitely some 18+ themes!!

masterlist

You couldn’t really complain about your workplace. There was a window by your desk, which gave you a decent view of the city; there was an esteemed bakery right next door; your boss and coworkers were all respectable and kind enough. If you had to pinpoint one thing that irked you, however, it was your boss’ frequent inclinations to set you up with her son. She was a friendly and polite person, and it would be amiss to say that you disliked her - she was nice to chat with, and she reminded you of your mother, in a way. There was just something about it that vexed you when she brought up her son in that way. Primarily, it bothered you that she likely only thought to set the two of you up because you were both gay. But, additionally, meeting a partner through their mother seemed to you like a somewhat awkward way for a relationship to begin.

“Hi, Y/N,” she stopped by your desk to speak to you on her way out of the office, just as you were packing your things to leave for the day. “You will be at the party tonight, right?” The annual Christmas party that your office held.

“Of course,” you confirmed with a nod. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

She beamed in response. “That’s great. Because I’m bringing my son along, and I’ve been dying for the two of you to meet.”

You suppressed the urge to groan, or sigh, or even sob. “Oh, really, there’s no need-”

She cut you off, “You don’t need to worry, Y/N, I know the two of you are going to hit it off. And, by the way, he’s heard all about you, too.”

“Alright,” you mumbled in resignation, finding it rather difficult to remain polite as you forced a smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You waited until she had left before you threw your head into your hands. There was nothing at all that could prepare you for the awkward encounter that was to come.

***

As you sipped your drink, you eyed the room. Thus far, you had miraculously managed to avoid crossing paths with your boss, and in conjunction, her son. When you made accidental and unwanted eye contact with her across the room, though, you supposed you would be unable to maintain this avoidance much longer. With a wave in your direction, she began to navigate the crowd of your coworkers and their friends, making her way towards you.

You brushed your clothes with a sniff - why were you so anxious? You had opted for a dark paisley-print shirt with a pair of black skinny trousers; not too casual, nor excessively formal. Looking at your outfit now, however, you were doused with uncertainties, and you were wondering if perhaps you should have ironed your shirt more thoroughly. Undesired as this introduction was, you were being set up with someone, technically. Maybe you should’ve taken this more seriously.

“Y/N,” your boss greeted you with a wide smile that told you how much she’d already had to drink that night. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” you reciprocated, fabricating a smile that you hoped would mask your mostly unnecessary nerves.

“Sweetie!” She beckoned to somebody behind you. “Come meet Y/N.”

You turned to see a figure approaching you and your boss. It just so happened that he had taken a sip of his drink as you turned to look at him, and when his eyes met yours, he promptly began to choke on the swig he had taken. You felt your cheeks flush scarlet, and you desperately hoped that your boss was tipsy enough to miss the recognition that passed between the two of you. 

You knew your boss’ son all too well.

***

You didn’t go out to bars all that often, and definitely not alone. When you did fancy a drink - particularly a solo drink - you much preferred to drink in the comfort of your own home. There was something about that night, though, that the thought of being completely alone made you feel a little uneasy. Although it hadn't worked out too well; sitting at the bar knocking back your drink, surrounded by strangers all engrossed in their own conversations, you felt as alone as ever.

“Mind if I sit?”

You glanced up, surprised, to verify that the question had in fact been directed to you. A handsome boy with full lips and thick eyebrows was looking down at you with a questioning gaze.

“Go ahead,” you confirmed, somewhat taken aback. “What are you drinking?”

“Uh, rum and coke?”

You nodded, before hailing the bartender and requesting two rum and cokes. You smiled wryly as the man took his first sip and winced - it was an endearing mannerism. Perhaps it was due to your newfound company, or perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system taking effect, but you felt your mood lift, ever so slightly.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand towards him. When he shook it, you noticed how unexpectedly soft his hands were.

“Kun,” he returned.

“Nice to meet you, Kun,” you spoke, trying out his name in your mouth. It felt nice.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he flirted, a genuine smile decorating his face. “So, what’s a nice boy like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

“It’s just been one of those days,” you explained vaguely.

Kun nodded, not wanting to pry. “Allow me to take your mind off it,” he offered with a small smile.

Why not? You shrugged. “You can try.”

He raised his glass, and you clinked your own against it gently, before taking a healthy sip. The night was young, you decided. You would give him a chance to lift the dark fog that shrouded you.

***

Several drinks later - maybe four, maybe five, possibly even more, but you had lost count - you found yourself in fits of laughter with this stranger, who didn’t really feel like a stranger any more.

“Y/N, hey,” Kun spoke, his laughter dying. He reached out his hand, placing it gently on top of your own. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I don’t usually do this.” It was true; you weren’t experienced in the art of casual sex. Regardless of this, you didn’t want to say no this time.

His eyes were focused on your lips as he spoke. “Neither do I. But this is different. I feel so drawn to you.”

You had to agree. Maybe it was just the rum, but somehow you doubted it. Something inside him called to something inside you. 

“Let’s go,” you agreed with a smile. He slammed back what was left of his drink then stood, taking your hand and leading you out into the cool night air.

***

In the months following that initial meeting, the two of you had stayed in touch. You had met up from time to time, although these encounters were primarily for sexual purposes. You two were compatible; you got along well, there were no complications and your relationship was free of drama. It just never crossed into romantic territory. He was always a call (or a sext) away when you had urges, but there was nothing soft or fluffy going on. You were friends with benefits, and nothing more.

And that brought you back to the office party. You, your boss, and Kun - who was apparently your boss’ son, and who was currently choking on his drink, which you thought was rather appropriate, given the situation.

“Are you okay?” your boss asked her son, concern knitting her eyebrows together.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine,” Kun coughed, giving her a rather convincing smile. You already knew how charming he was, and you weren’t surprised to find that his charismatic tricks worked on his own mother.

“I’ll let you boys get to know each other,” she beamed at you, before leaving.

You used every ounce of your restraint to hold back your laughter until she was out of earshot.

“Oh my god,” Kun gasped between laughs.

“Oh my god, that was so awkward,” you agreed, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

“That was the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in!” Kun admitted. “I can’t believe this.”

Neither of you could get over the novelty of the situation. “For months my boss has been telling me I’d be great for her son. And this whole time I’ve been jacking off to pictures of his dick.”

“This is insane,” Kun remarked with a shake of his head. Your laughter broke off, leaving a calm lull in the conversation as you both smiled. “It’s good to see you, though,” Kun spoke genuinely.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You too.”

Kun cleared his throat before speaking. “Maybe... maybe we should let her set us up, go on a few dates. Just to keep her happy.”

You nodded with a smirk. “Right, just to keep her happy. Not because you have a crush on me or anything.” 

Kun smiled bashfully. “Well, you are pretty hot.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you I am not that easy. You’ll have to take me out for dinner first.” 

Kun laughed, and his cheeks began to glow lightly. “Dinner sounds good.” 

You stepped forwards, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“By the way,” Kun suggested, “Let’s not tell my mom we already knew each other.”

"Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - Since that rainy night (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (之自雨夜来) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say

> my love rival older brother

> the missing victim

> since that rainy night ♡

[ Chapter One ]

“Boss, why hasn't Professor Lucien been around lately?”

“It just means you haven’t been coming at the right time.”

For some reason, ever since Lucien appeared on “Miracle Finder”, the shop has become a place where his female enthusiasts check in.

The more introverted ones would order a glass of juice and wait in a corner, their eyes flitting between their phone screens and the entrance of the bar. The more straightforward ones would be like the one before me - the moment they arrive, they go straight to the question, asking about “Professor Lucien” this, and “Professor Lucien” that.

In consideration of the privacy of my customers, I wouldn’t give them a clear answer.

Moreover, even though we’ve known each other for close to two years, my understanding of him still remains at “young and promising neuroscientist”, “Guest Professor at Loveland University”, and other superficial levels.

His entire being is akin to a dense fog, drawing people near, yet never letting one see it clearly. The ladies who have developed an interest in him all say that he’s scholarly, refined, and gentle - a man who is family-oriented, considerate and protective. But to me, that may not be his genuine self. 

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The first time he visited was a rainy working day. At the dead of night, the shop only had a few customers who had been trapped in by the rain.

Everyone had long since lost the passion they had at midnight, laying on the tables listlessly and waiting for the rain to stop. I’d long since changed the background music to jazz, which was more appropriate for a rainy day. The melodious saxophone further elongated the dark night.

That was when Lucien came in, his entire body drenched. For a moment, I even thought the droplets pelting onto his white coloured lapel would dye his shirt the inky colour of night.

“‘A Foggy Day’ - what a suitable song for a rainy day.” I originally thought he was simply here to avoid the rain. But he appeared to be a music enthusiast who came here after being led by the music. “May I know if it’s still business hours?”

“We’re open for business till 5am in the morning.”

He lifted his hand and glanced at his watch. His eyes seemed to hold scattered moonlight. “Thank you. In that case, I still have 17 minutes to listen to his album.”

Not in the least reserved, he took off his jacket in front of me, removed his tie, his drenched shirt sticking to his young body. He looked sturdier than before, slightly different from the impression I got from people who wore white coats.

This contrast was basically my ideal type. Unfortunately, from a glance, it was clear that he wasn’t from around here. I could only settle my emotions, controlling my restless heart.

Because the bartender had already knocked off, I could only provide him with a glass of warm lemon water and a dry towel. “Give yourself a wipe first. You can stay here till the rain stops.”

“Thank you.” He looked so alert that he didn’t seem at all like an unlucky person who just got off work and was caught in the rain. He even chatted with me until the sky gradually turned bright. 

During the idle conversation we shared over these few hours, I talked about things related to myself from time to time, while he would take small sips from that glass of lemon water and listen quietly. Occasionally, he would give me a few replies which didn’t come off as merely being polite.

Without doubt, he was a very good listener. To me, the feeling of being listened to was a little novel.

Usually, people who visit the shop are those with worries weighing on their minds, and I would be their “tree hole”, responsible for absorbing all sorts of emotions from them. Very few people cared about my opinions and what sort of a person I was. And the mysterious man who arrived on this rainy day spent a large part of the night listening to me talking.

By the time the rain finally stopped, I was on the verge of dozing off. But he was still radiating with vigour, and so alert that it was as though he could continue with work right after getting a change of clothes.

“Thank you. This has been a wonderful rainy night.”

When he left through the door that day, I never thought that this man, akin to a hallucination, would ever visit again.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

He didn’t come at regular intervals.

Sometimes, he’d visit consecutively over two or three nights. Sometimes, he’d appear once after a week or half a month.

But no matter when he visited, he’d always sit at the most inconspicuous corner of the bar, order a non-alcoholic cup of mojito and sit quietly.

He was gentle to everyone, and could maintain a somewhat nonchalant distance with anyone. But this didn’t mean that he wouldn’t take the initiative. In contrast, he often left his “designated seat”, and with some unknown conditions, selected and walked towards a “lucky individual”.

They could be lawyers experiencing disappointment at work, or they could be small celebrities who thought highly of themselves. They could be cross-dressing hobbyists whose genders were difficult to distinguish, or they could be a normal youth who was perplexed about the future...

The troubles these people held in their hearts and only dared to meld into music and glasses of beer were completely revealed to Lucien.

Countless times, I’d seen him learning a person’s entire story in the span of a glass of beer. As for things pertaining to himself, he had never revealed much.

The more mysterious this person was, the more it hooked certain people’s desire to conquer. There were always a few ill-intentioned customers who would try using alcohol to numb his consciousness, or attempt to remove that unassailable outer shell of his. But each time, they would stop.

He was naturally not self-indulgent. Even if it was with someone he’d accompanied for two drinks, he wouldn’t overdo it. The moment he entered a slightly drunken state, he would use all sorts of ingenious ways to extricate himself. With a drink in hand, he would calmly return to his seat.

During these moments, his tender features would seem to be covered with a thin layer of ice, revealing a hint of coldness.

Those eyes, which held boundless constellations, would also dim. In them, there would be unreadable emotions. It gave off the sense of a well-made robot suddenly having its electricity cut off, stopping it from interacting with the outside world entirely.

I’d tried making conversation with him during such moments, but he seemed to be even quieter when drunk. As such, he didn’t respond much.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

Watching him get along well with everyone, I teased him. “Professor Lucien, could there be a scientific method to making friends? Why does it seem as though you can integrate yourself with anyone?” 

“As long as you have a mentality of ‘making friends’, you can easily integrate with everyone.” He maintained a gentle smile, saying somewhat cruel words.

Probably because the confusion was too obvious on my face, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “From your expression, I’m afraid you might have misunderstood what I meant.” Even before I could express my doubts, he had already guessed it.

He’s always been this way, easily understanding the inner hearts of others. 

“Everyone is too used to ‘friendship’. But actually, no matter what relationships are shared between people, they’re formed with fetters. As such, if I were to use a ‘passer-by’ method of idle talk, the other party wouldn’t feel an overly heavy responsibility from me. This would create a more unrestrained atmosphere where he can open his heart freely.”

This left me speechless for a while, but I didn’t dare to agree blindly. The only thing I could say was that his way of thinking was indeed different from normal people. As such, one couldn’t use use a normal standard to gauge whether he was right or wrong.

“In that case, have you never considered being friends with anyone?”

“It depends on what the other person thinks.” He met my eyes for several seconds, with a gaze which left one unable to turn him down, once again ambiguously evading the core of the question.

Past experiences have sounded an alarm bell for me:

The more watertight a person seems, the more undisclosed secrets he has.

If they say that a woman’s heart is elusive, then that man’s heart was likely a balloon.

Expanding at will, and contracting at will.

Ever since the ladies in the bar kept talking about “Professor Lucien” this and “Professor Lucien” that, the male customers who came here to flirt with girls were enraged beyond compare. They started playing student-like tricks on Lucien.

I had always closed an eye to such small-scale antics which didn’t affect the business. One, I could treat it as a tiny interlude to hype up the place. Two, I trusted that in the end, Lucien would skilfully and easily resolve such clumsy and cheap tricks.

After one or two occurrences, Lucien didn’t lose his fans. He even relied on these “simpletons” to serve as a foil, adding another wave of favourable opinions. Finally sensing the differences between them, those guys could only leave angrily while stomping their feet in the dark, and eventually stopped showing their faces in the shop.

With a dip in such entertainment, the shop returned to its original peace and tranquility.

“Sigh. It’s so boring since no one has dared to bully you recently.”

“If someone comes next time... I’ll try my best not to scare them away.”

The way he said this dead seriously amused me. Back then, I hadn’t realised that hiding beneath that peacefulness, darkness had already started stirring.

The person who had entered first that night returned alone to the bar. We were even secretly anticipating what kind of childish game he’d be bringing this time. Unexpectedly, he was calm. Even till late at night, he was alone, drinking beer at a corner by himself.

After the alcohol went to his head, that person stumbled over red-faced, muttering to himself, “Scoun... scoundrel Lucien... get rid of your condescending look. Today, I’m going to...!”

-

[ Chapter Five ]

He wore a long-sleeved shirt, completely inappropriate for the day’s weather. It was only when he lunged towards Lucien that I saw a silver light flashing from his sleeve.

“Lucien! He has a knife!”

In a moment, the crowd dispersed in alarm. Lucien, who originally had his back towards the man, turned around, a hand clutching his wrist, and another hand knocking the fruit knife out of his hand.

With an unusual air of calm, he bent down to pick up the knife, handing its handle to me. “I’ll have to trouble the boss to keep the knife properly.”

The person who had the knife taken from him looked at his empty hand in a daze. Customers who had returned to their senses burst into applause at Lucien’s ability to be adaptive in handling such a situation.

The person who attempted to stir trouble fled with his tail between his legs. He even tripped when leaving through the door.

“Looks like you’ve completely scared him away this time.”

It’s as though Lucien had just settled an issue no different from the small pranks from earlier. From start to end, his face didn’t reveal any surprise. 

Everyone seemed to accept that Professor Lucien was just well versed in both the pen and the sword. But I didn’t think a normal person should have such skills.

Being able to react with lightning speed in such a dim place made me deeply think that this enigmatic man had an additional colour that one couldn’t make out. 

To tell you the truth, the ladies who were chasing Lucien in the dark or outwardly had grown to such a large number that I could barely count them. But he hadn’t expressed anything about it clearly.

By the request from a customer, I was appointed to take an indirect approach in delving into his love life. Beating around the bush wasn’t my style, so all I could do was send a straight ball to him amidst the ladies present. “Professor Lucien, there are so many ladies who like you in the shop, but you aren’t going to consider them at all?”

The moment the question was asked, I felt the ladies straightening up their ears to listen, holding their breaths and waiting for his response. 

“I just want to ask, on behalf of the numerous ladies here, whether there’s a type you like?”

“This question has stumped me.” He pretended to look serious while considering this for a moment. In the end, he tossed out an answer which had little reference value. “’Like’ should be an emotion generated by a special individual, not characterised into a general type.”

We originally thought that was just a tactful way of saying he was devoting his entire life to science. But we didn’t expect the “special individual” to appear in just a few days.

A woman I had never seen before followed Lucien gingerly into the bar. At a glance, it was obvious that she wasn’t the type who’d usually appear in such places, so she stuck out exceptionally amongst the crowd.

I initially thought she was just another one of Lucien’s female enthusiasts, and announced his presence jokingly. He remained unmoved, continuing to chat with the person next to him who had struck a conversation with him. Yet, when the woman left the bar, he made an excuse to follow her out too.

That night, he didn’t return. Even the money for the drinks was transferred later via phone.

After that, the man named Lucien, along with that forthright lady, left from our view.