#with the back mirroring the oxygen tank

[iolitemoth]

Meet Solam! She’s a quantum physics major who joins Wild Ventures after her classmate Gab (Gabbro) talks her into it. She’s excited and ready for adventure!

Some Facts:

Solam uses a text-to-speech device as well as sign language; I’m not sure if she’s mute or has trouble speaking or something else, but she gets by well enough.

She plays piano! She brought a keyboard from home and set it up in her dorm room as soon as she could.

Her favourite animals are goats :) Some of her other favourite things are science, mysteries, and learning.

Solam is fairly tall and has a habit of walking on her toes.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[mysaintkitten]

Mile High | Robert Fischer x fem!reader

prompt: you’re the stewardess on robert fischer’s private jet, and he’s not too fond of your attitude. (NSFW, no minors)

WARNINGS: robert’s a cunt, plane sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), degradation and praise, slight age gap, power imbalance

word count: 2.1k

today was your first day working with mr. fischer, you had been a regular stewardess for a few years now but due to good word of mouth you were able to become a private jet stewardess. it was a more intimate environment, the pay was better, you had less people to tend to, it was overall quite the win for you.

the jet was set to leave in a few minutes, so you found your way to the bathroom and quickly dolled yourself up a bit before mr. fischer came onto the plane. you’re expecting a man, at least in his 60s, rich as hell and eager to pounce on a young woman such as your self. you could use it to your advantage, maybe leave the jet with some extra money in your pocket.

while in the bathroom, you overheard some small talk happening within the jet.

“good afternoon, robert! right this way” you hear, “robert?” you think to yourself. you wait until the minor chaos of dealing with the baggage is dealt with before you take one last look in the mirror, feeling satisfied with what you see staring back at you. with a deep breath, you walk out the bathroom. what was once lively a few moments ago has fallen silent. you see a lone man sitting in his seat, hands clasped in front of him while gazing out the window. is that mr. fischer? or, robert, as you had just overheard.

you were expecting some grandpa. oxygen tank on standby if need be. you could tell from afar he was older than you, but not by very much. a decade at the most.

you quickly dismiss those thoughts, and bring a semi-artificial smile to your face. as you begin to approach him and his face becomes clearer, you can tell he’s quite an attractive man. sharp suit, nice watch, clean shave, he looks good to say the least. as you stand beside his seat, you start to say the introduction you were told to say by the jet company.

“good afternoon, mr. fischer, my nam-“

“i don’t want any handouts.” he says sharply, not even attempting to shift his gaze from the window.

oh. so he’s like that.

you brush past his blatant arrogance and continue with your introduction, “oh, no, i’m not here to offer anything at the moment. just introducing myself, my names y/n and i’ll be taking care of you for this flight.” you say, forcing that smile back to your face. it’s at this point that he actually looks at you and you’re met with his striking blue eyes, he really looks like the embodiment of if looks could kill. “throughout the flight, anything you need, just let me know.” he scans you up and down before returning to your face, muttering a small “mhm” before looking back out the window again.

once your backs to him, you roll your eyes, heading to your lounging area to wait around until robert to wants something.

around a half an hour has passed and you’ve resorted to reading a book, you’ve read it multiple times before, but it’s an old reliable. and you also had absolutely nothing else to do. that is until you hear him call out for you, “ma’am?” you hear robert say, you place your book down and stand up, walking over to him.

he’s watching you this time, actually looking at you like a person.

“could you get me a scotch on the rocks?” he asks, leaning his head back slightly, “of course, i’ll be back shortly.” you reply before heading to the opposite side of the jet to make his drink. after a few moments, you return, drink in hand.

“here you go, mr. fisc-“

“could you get me a cigarette, too?” he adds, fully cutting you off without care.

“i’m sorry, sir, smoking isn’t allowed on the jet.” you reply, obviously you can’t smoke on the goddamn jet, but this would probably come as a surprise to him. arrogant little pricks probably never been told no in his life.

he brings the drink up to his lips, taking a swig before placing it down in the cup holder.

“i could buy you, and this jet company. get me the cigarette.” he spat, you’re rendered speechless, as you begin to leave to try and find cigarettes you feel a tight grip on your wrist.

“for future reference, doll, when i want something, i get it. i’m not asking you, i’m telling you.” he grumbled before letting go of your wrist. as you kept walking you couldn’t help but be absolutely appalled at his behaviour.

somehow, you were able to find the cigarettes and a lighter.

you remind yourself, suck it up, he’s filthy rich, the pay will be good. the thought of taking money from him gave you an authentic smile that you held on your face as you approached him, cigarettes and lighter in hand.

“here you go, sir.” you say, he grabs them without acknowledging you at all and quickly brings a cigarette up to his lips, lighting it before inhaling the smoke sharply. you watch as his shoulders drop as he exhales.

you turn your back to him to leave, “wait.” you hear him say, you turn to face him.

“sit.” he adds, using his head to signal towards the seat sitting across from his. you feel your anxiety begin to peak, but you oblige. “how’d you get this job?” he pries, taking a sip from his drink and then a drag from the cigarette. “uh..” you start, mind racing. you’re about to lose your job, you think to yourself. “i worked as a regular stewardess for a few years, but someone put a good word in about me, so now i’m here.” you say, as sweetly as you can.

“good word? about what? did you fuck someone to get them to say that?” he asks, his words are jarring. you can’t believe he’d speak to you like this, “excuse me?” you question.

“because the behaviour you’ve shown is less than satisfactory to say the least. so i’m just wondering if you fucked your way to get here.” he shrugs, “i’m disgusted with how you’ve acted. and if you wanna keep your job, you’re going to have to prove yourself worthy.”

you don’t know what to say, “mr. fischer i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re-“

“call me robert, hun.” he says, his tone still cold as he puts out the cigarette.

“robert. i’m not sure what you’re implying here.” you repeat, feeling yourself become flushed.

“you said you’d be taking care of me for this flight, didn’t you? and right now, i’m having some needs that i’m sure you could meet. after all, the other favours i’ve asked of you have been a disappointment.” he says, beginning to unbuckle his belt, your eyes go wide,

“robert, i’m not sure-“ you squeak, being thrown off by how quickly everything is progressing.

“sh, do one thing right and keep yourself quiet.” he says, now unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “matter of fact, get on your knees.” he growls, blatantly palming himself in front of you. this entire situation is a huge mind-fuck. roberts been nothing but a petty little cunt the entire time, but he’s still rather handsome, and, his most dominating quality, rich. you don’t wanna lose your job, and you’re willing to do whatever he’d ask to prevent it. so you fall to your knees in front of him.

“you’re gonna suck me off, and then i’ll consider forgetting about your bad hospitality.” he remarked, scooting his hips forward slightly. you nod, not saying a word before tugging his waistbands down, watching his hard cock spring against his stomach. you hesitantly give him a few pumps. after building up the courage, you bring his tip into your mouth, sucking and swirly around it gently, watching his body begin to go limp as a low groan came from within him.

slowly, you start to take more, pumping whatever isn’t fitting in your mouth, he’s moaning now. not very loud, but enough for you to be able to hear him. you feel a palm being placed on top of your head, forcing you down lower on his cock.

“take more, and don’t be shy, sweetheart, you wanna keep your job, don’t you?” he purrs, you view that as a sign for you to play with his balls as well while sucking him off. at this point you’re basically deep throating him, twisting your hand to act as if a continuation of your mouth.

“ah fuck..” he grunts, “do you only follow instructions when they involve you being a whore?” he growls through gritted teeth, you hum around him, unable to give him any other response. he swats your hands away and locks his fingers into your hair, fucking your mouth at a rough and unexpected pace.

you can barely breathe, your eyes are watering, and worst of all- you can feel yourself becoming wet. you hope to god that he doesn’t know that he’s turning you on, he’d never let you forget it.

“god..” he moans, “such a good girl. is that all it takes to get you to behave? a cock down your throat?” he teases, brushing your hair back to watch himself fuck your mouth. you whine around him, and glance at him through half lidded eyes, continuing to let him have his way with you.

he starts to huff quietly before roughly tugging you off his cock, making you gasp loudly at the ability to breathe clearly again.

“don’t wanna come just yet, wanna use that pussy first.” he grunts, pumping himself slowly. almost as if in a daze, you stand to your feet and shimmy your stockings and panties off, leaving you still nearly fully clothed. you place your hands on his shoulders and climb onto his lap, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sliding yourself down. wincing slightly at the stretch.

he moans lowly and his head dips back, “fuck.. you’re so wet.. gripping me so good.. shame you’re such a disrespectful slut. maybe you just need a good fucking, huh?” he groans in your ear, running his tongue along its outer shell. chills spread across your body as you raise your hips and slowly begin to ride him, “y-yeah.. i think i do..” you reply, hiding your face in his neck,

“mhm.. i think so too..” he purrs before placing his hands on your hips, guiding you to pick up a faster and rougher pace. you can’t help but moan while gripping his shoulders, “s-ir!” you whine, “feels so good!”.

he lets out a breathy laugh, “such a good girl when she’s got a cock inside her.” he nudges your head up to expose your neck and plants wet kisses, occasionally sucking gently. he sneaks his hands down and rides your skirt up so it’s sitting around your waist, fully exposing your bare bottom half. he grips your ass roughly before placing a firm smack against it, making you gasp loudly. you feel yourself becoming wetter, almost embarrassingly so. he noticed this.

“oh, did you like that, sweet thing? god, you really are a slut..” he laughs lowly before shifting his hips up to meet your trusts. the cabin is only filled with the sounds of heavy breath and moans, skin on skin, a slight squelching sounds which are making you blush harder.

you’re a moaning mess, shaking slightly, gasping and whining. he grabs one of your wrists and moves it between your legs,

“rub your clit, get yourself off on my cock, sweetheart.” he groans in the sweetest tone he’s had the entire flight. and you do just that, rub your clit while he fucks up into you. you’re close, very close, and judging by that gesture he just pulled you assume he is too.

“i’m close, robert!” you whine, screwing your eyes shut tightly, “come for me.” he growls before smacking your ass again, the sting of the smack pushed you over the edge. your orgasm rippling through you as he continued to thrust himself inside you.

“oh, shit, hun..” he mumbles, “squeezing my cock so nicely.. like you’re begging me to come inside..”

before you can fully process what he’s said, hes coming inside you, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own moans. after riding out his orgasm, he begins to lift you off. but instead of guiding you to the seat in front of him, he moves you to the seat beside him, then proceeding to lean forward and pick up your stockings and panties for you.

“if you clean up your act, i’ll have you on my flights more often. i’ll treat you good, sweetheart, real good.”

[biblio-smia]

“sharing a kiss after not seeing them for an extended period of time” with robin buckley, please! ♡

your gas tank is almost drained again by the time you stop, the a/c you've had to turn on full blast as the sun came up practically eating it. soreness from staying seated in the same position for so long disappears, replaced by happy nerves as you flip down your little mirror and touch your tired face up.

you'd been counting down the days on the cute little calendar that had been gifted to you. this was new, this anticipation to return to hawkins. the town had never held anything for you before, especially not in the summer. the odd part-time, the local pool, the occasional other-worldly being to fight.

this summer, though, your heart had been aching to see your girl.

you weren't sure how one person managed to bring you home like this, moving out of your little dorm almost a thousand miles away as soon as you possibly could. not even your friends could make almost a full day of driving seem so easy but i guess that's why you weren't dating any of your friends.

it's been almost three months since spring break and you craved to be in hawkins almost every day of that. phone calls had managed to get you by but it wasn't nearly the same.

your feet unnecessarily pace themselves into a run; robin's driveway isn't very long and it's only about ten steps from her door. excitement buzzes through your body. almost three months, almost a thousand miles, almost here. one door is the only thing that separates you now.

you ring the doorbell and make yourself wait, seconds feeling impossibly long as you begin to hear faint footsteps growing louder, louder. the locks click, the doorknob turns and she's there, she's here.

you barely catch a glimpse of the shock on her face before you've pulled her in for a kiss. the driveway's empty and really, you couldn't care less about what the neighbors see right now.

you hold her face in your hands gently as you kiss her with fervor. you kiss her like you need it to survive, as if she's your only source of oxygen.

you've forgotten to tell her you were on the way, her reminder only ringing in your head again two hours in. you've saved her the anticipation, at least, the counting down of the hours - the same phenomena that drove you to drive all this way without stopping to rest.

you'll pay for it later, you're sure, but right now you're both too overcome with something happier to inspect the details of your journey.

your head rests on robin's shoulder now. she's managed to drag you in a foot and close the door behind you as you hold her with no intent to let her go.

robin pries you off with a laugh at your whiny resistance, soothing you with a soft "come on," and her hand in yours.

robin moves a few employment advertisements out of the way before waving you into her bed.

you're in each other's arms again, unable or unwilling to have your hands off the other. robin inspects your face - the shadows under your eyes, the old flecks of mascara rubbed off of your lashes, the residue of the shiny lip tint she'd gotten you.

her thumb follows the curves and edges of your face, grazing your face with as much care as the first time around. you can recall, almost perfectly, how nervous her touch made you feel, how you'd held your breath under her stare.

robin still has an effect on you, many months later. this time, though, you take advantage of her distraction and take this opportunity to stare: her hair is up because she hates how some pieces tickle the back of her neck when she's laying down, her freckles so much more prominent now that it's summer.

she still smiles nervously when you watch her as if you'll find something wrong if you stare too hard. there's nothing, though - nothing that could ever convince you robin wasn't perfect.

she kisses you again, softly. gently, but enough for you to feel how much she's missed you. perhaps she'll forgive you for not calling.

keys jingle and the front door opens, voices booming down the hallway as you and robin separate.

"robin! we're home! the car in the driveway, isn't that-" robin's father's voice calls, getting closer until he's appeared in the doorway. "i knew it," he grins.

robin's mother pops up behind him, equally as delighted. "oh, robin didn't mention you were on your way back! did you come straight here? i saw that car of yours filled to the brim with things. have you eaten yet? of course you haven't, robin, you haven't offered anything?"

she shoots so many questions you have to hold back a laugh. "yes, i just got back."

"oh, why don't you stay for dinner then?" robin's mother encourages you with a nod and you can't help but agree.

robin looks at you once they leave, a soft expression on her face. "you came straight here?"

you nod quietly, a shy smile playing at your lips. "couldn't wait another second to see you."

robin laughs hard, falling onto her back.

"why are you laughing? i'm being vulnerable with you and you're laughing." you lean over robin to press a kiss to her cheek through your smile.

"because you're a dweeb. a cheesy, cheesy, dweeb."

"oh, that's cruel."

robin pulls at your face before you can pull away in time, knowing your next move would be to deprive her of any affection. you really can't resist within a certain distance from her, letting her pull you in for another kiss.

"we need to find a job together this summer," you whisper against her lips.

"and steve," the both of you mutter at the same time. giggles erupt out of the two of you, causing a collapse of your body on top of robin's.

she holds you as you kiss along her face lazily. all the rush has left your body, leaving you yearning for a nap. preferably in robin's arms.

"dinner's ready!" a voice calls from the kitchen.

"you should know, it's just leftovers." robin admits.

"i don't care," you grin, kissing robin's nose before forcing yourself to get up before you fall asleep right then and there. "come on."

because really, there isn't much to sweat when robin's around - not inter-dimensional monsters, not long-distance, and certainly not leftovers for dinner.

part of v's 1000 follower celebration | main masterlist

[boundinparchment]

Let’s Fall Silent

He was created as a companion to a capricious dawn; rejected, he haunted the waters of Snezhnaya until he grew bored. Saved by a foolish inventor, he wonders if there is more to life than his rejected purpose.

Or: whatever happened to that merman Dottore segment?

Sequel to my fic, “Endless.”

RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. ON AO3 HERE.

Water rushed through his gills and oxygen flooded his system in steady, rolling waves.  He didn’t need to breathe but yet his body seemed perfectly suited to do so, yearned to.

He looked down, the shining blue scales of his tail resembling stones he knew only in name and vague understanding.  Knowledge that was not his but readily given, as if he’d already read ten thousand books.  Webs between his fingers were gossamer thin and yet seemed to catch and push water as if made of the strongest steel blades.  

His fingers looked as if he’d dipped them in the reflections of the night sky, scales shimmering and shifting with the light.  

There was a weight on his right ear, a glass tube that seemed to contain a type of water.  Touching it sent faint shockwaves through his fingers and head, voices echoing distantly.

He assessed his surroundings: a tall man with blue hair and a white coat, eyes hidden; a clear boundary between them; a flicker of sunset out of the corner of his eye.  The creature titled its head, the fins on either side of his head flitting with the motion.  

Creator.  Right.  His image was almost identical to the bipedal human before him.  Intended for…

He turned his head, garnet eyes falling in the direction he felt another presence.

A flash of a memory—not his—told him everything.

Rejected without ever having a chance.  The dawn would kill him for carrying out his purpose if he ever so much as approached her.  Understandably so.  Sensations welled up inside him, foreign and intruded upon, not his to feel.  Although the man on the other side of the glass (yes, that was the word) had made him, he was nothing but a vessel for wish-fulfillment.  A bridge built to cross a too-large gap.

His Creator was a curious man.  Whether he wanted to see the dawn’s reaction to the addition to her tank or because he was too far along in the process to stop didn’t matter to the finned mirror image.  The result was the same.  The merman was awake and contained every awareness that already, the tides had changed. 

An existential crisis was not on the agenda.  There was still plenty more to do.  An entire world outside of this tank.  The dawn came from somewhere, of course, and water was the necessity for all life.

He swam, gauged how far to move his arms and the proper movements of his tail.  Easy, fluid motions that allowed him to cut through water came from somewhere deeper than muscle memory.  Base instinct left little room for error.

“Our observation time is short, Nadir.  How do you feel?” 

The voice did not vibrate the water in the same fashion other sounds did.  The Creator’s mouth did not move as it did with her.  It felt as if the words floated in his mind like driftwood waiting to be collected.

And what was it he was called?  Nadir?  He was named?  Given an…identity?

He wracked his pre-filled memory banks.  The merman held back the biting laugh that threatened his lungs for a moment.  An amalgamation of both living creatures and he was named after the lowest point of the sun’s daily descent in the sky.  Arguably, he was also the lowest point in his Creator���s infatuation, given her blatant rejection of his attempt to give her companionship.

The man stared, awaiting a response.  His patience was thinning, lips pressed together.

“I am…fine.  I experience no pain.  I can see, hear, breathe, and move,” the Segment spoke.  

The sounds were strange and guttural and his mouth moved in unnatural motions.  His vocal cords did not like it.  They felt too loose and lacked control over the sounds.

“Can you not respond without moving your lips?  Without making a sound?” His Creator asked.

The merman, for he was beginning to understand the differences biologically and his own identity in more depth, schooled his expression and focused.  He tried to feel anything beyond himself, than the water on his skin that rippled his fins and the hum of the filtration system and the low hissing from the far corners of the tank network.  He could see his Creator, sense his presence in a physical understanding of him occupying space facing the tank.  Whispers crept up into his ear and throughout the base of his skull but it was akin to the way his Creator once pressed an ear to a closet door as a child.

One way.  He could listen and observe, distantly, but he could not partake.

All the better, really, Nadir considered.  The others were very loud and boisterous and clambering for attention.

The only attention the merman wanted was that of his intended companion.

But he was not eager to have his existence snuffed so quickly.

When Nadir did not reply, and instead shook his head, the man on the other side of the tank brought a hand to his lips.  Silence dominated.

Until the Creator’s shoulders rose and fell in a single motion when he reassessed what the Segment could only assume were notes. 

“Perhaps it is the medium required for your physical form that prevents the connection.  I had to make several modifications to account for waterproof mechanisms.  Sound travels differently in water.  It stands to reason that water would slow other waves down as well…”

The bipedal man dropped the papers with a flick of his wrist, uncaring and bored.  They were worthless now, in the face of recent events.  He approached the tank, arms behind his back.

“I am otherwise quite proud of this particular specimen, Fjar.  If he were to reside in the far reaches of the waters here, or live elsewhere, would you object?”

Ah, so that was her proper name.  The word was familiar, danced across his mind when he recalled memories of a name and another land.  Once again, none of it his .  Nadir had not existed properly until roughly twenty minutes ago.

The dawn spoke, her voice made for water, beautiful as the sunrise she represented.

“As long as he stays far away from me.  From us .  Your work is appreciated, my Zandik, but you know how I feel.  I will have you , not an imitation of you.  He will be safe provided he never approaches me.”

Nadir stared at his Creator, who raised his head a fraction before removing his mask.  Eyes as red as a blood moon watched the Segment in return.  Exhaustion tugged at the skin beneath his eyes and Nadir caught a flicker of hurt well-hidden behind a cold and calculating demeanor.

“There is no shortage of food and means to occupy yourself past the hole in the ice,” the man called Zandik said.  “Her territory does not extend past that delineation.  She has never been one to stray far from comfort.  I do not anticipate requiring your presence as I do the others, so you are free to go where you wish.”

The Creator returned his mask to his face and turned away from the tank before leaving the room.  He did not look back nor hesitate before he crossed the threshold and the door shut behind him.

Something constructed in Nadir’s chest and he could not, in all of the databanks and memories he was connected to, put a name to it.  It was not sharp, like a knife, but it persisted from his chest up through his throat and crawled over his tongue.  The sensation grew worse as the tank shimmered and flowed, the source obscured but unmistakable.  

The Segment dove and found the pipeline connected to the ocean depths.  His skin prickled as the temperature changed and the balance of minerals shifted.  

At first, he lingered.  How could he not?

The only other of his kind, manufactured though he was, lived in these waters.  He held memories of what it was to be on two legs and feet, feel sand between toes and the sun on a face that was his and yet not.  

The best way to learn and understand was to observe, watch, see what unfolded without interference.  

There was no point in staying where he was not wanted.  But if nothing else, such knowledge would help him survive elsewhere.

___________________

He grew bored within the year and set out from the reaches of the far north, with nothing but the currents and memories of maps as guides.  

Down here, beneath the ice and at such depth, hardly any sun reached through the frigid waters.  His Creator saw to it that his vision was intended for all environments but the winter months made it especially difficult when light was so infrequent.

The overworld was vast but the bodies of water were far larger still.  Nadir had the world between his fingertips.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.  He could go to the land of Freedom, where it was said the air was clear and the water even clearer; or perhaps to the reaches of the land of Eternity, where he might have better odds among the yokai; the nation of War was far too hot for his liking and the adepti of the land of Contracts were protective of their legacy.

His Creator spent time in…what was it…a fountain…ah, Fontaine!  Although the nation embodied Justice, it was said that all life sprang forth from the waters of the land of Hydro.   Zandik had enjoyed it there under a guise that had no name and was never recorded.  No doubt the waters would be crowded but of all nations, it seemed the most promising.

He stuck to the shadows of the water.  The voices at the base of his skull whispered, screamed, and shouted all the while.

Until one day, his ears began to ring after a muted pop and his vision went dark as he caught a glimpse of a waterfall in the moonlight.  ___________________

When he opened his eyes again, he felt rocks and silt beneath him.  Everything felt dry .  Disgustingly so, as if every water droplet was sucked from his entire being.  Something bright and painful winked down at him and with difficulty, he raised a hand to cover his eyes.

Pale strands of aquamarine hair clung to him, long and tangled.  Despite how arid everything felt, his hair continued to stick to everything.  When he was swimming, it didn’t matter much but now?  It just made his dry skin itchier.

He heard the splashing of water and his…tail, yes, that word seemed correct swayed with the soft current.  He couldn’t recall how he arrived here.  All he remembered was ringing, like high pressure, and darkness.

There was a sudden rustle and then another sound, foreign but soft.  

“Are you alright?”

He gritted his sharp teeth and lifted his arm.  What language were they even speaking ?  The light was now obscured and instantly his skin felt several degrees cooler.

His bleary garnet eyes focused on the object, no, person before him.  Backlit by the brilliant light in the sky (was that the sun?), he could make out wide eyes shot with concern but as stunning as gems, lips slightly parted as if to speak again, and colors framing you that he had no name for.

You.

You were beautiful.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face as a distant sensation swam in his mind that another might be jealous of you.

“Can you speak?” you asked.

His throat was arid, his tongue thick and rough.  He dared not trust his vocal cords and instead shook his head, grits of sand embedding into his hair.

You made a sound that made his heart jump, a rush of air passing through your lungs that mimicked bells.  Your smile was apologetic, sweet in the way your lips curved and your expression conveyed your sincerity. 

“Silly question, this place is eternally dry and you clearly belong in the water.  Let’s at least get the rest of your lower half in the water first.  You’re too striking and handsome to dry out.”

Forward, too.  Had he met others like you before?

Your hands were warm, a little rougher, and with a little assistance, he was sitting upright with his tail properly in the water.  He was already feeling a bit better, even if his gills felt dry as they laid flat against his neck and his second respiratory pathways took over.  His hair, he realized, was much longer than he initially thought, tickling his back.

He watched as you pulled out a flask, opened it, and held it out to him.  His red eyes traced the line from the canteen, to your hands, your arm, and then your face.

Human.  You were human, same as…

Same as who?

“At least take a sip so your throat isn’t dry,” you prompted.  “It’s safe, I swear.”

He took it and put the metal to his lips, which he now realized were painfully cracked, and let the water pass across his tongue and down his throat.  The water tasted of iodine and he gagged as he swallowed.

So he not only needed to be in water but he needed water to survive.  That seemed counter-intuitive.  After all, he was mechanical .  Or partially mechanical.  What purpose did such a thing serve?

“Certainly tasted otherwise,” he managed to choke out, holding the container out to you.

Your fingers were warm against his webbed fins and you didn’t even hesitate when your fingers brushed his claws.  He could not determine if you were very brave or very stupid for that, with the way your touch sent a jolt down his spine and into his tail.  

Thankfully, his lower half was in water as he silently cursed at the other sensations that arose.  He would have to research this experience further…

“Out here, the water has to be purified before it can be consumed.  At least for me, at any rate,” your smile showed your unspoken apology.  “Do you have a name?”

A question he could not answer.  At one point, he had to have.  Someone gave it to him.  The opposite point of the rising sun…

Before he could respond, your hands found his hair and settled on something he didn’t feel until you gave a gentle tug.

“Oh, that has to hurt, no?”

He liked when your voice was tinged with worry, especially for someone you barely knew.  That was kind of you, if not incredibly foolish.  So many in the water gave him a wide berth, avoided him, and for good reason.  Or so it seemed.  In hindsight, he had no explanation, no context, just…end results.

You tugged on a different spot and he gritted his teeth again.

“When you pull on it, human , yes, it hurts,” he spat.  “Are you always so callous with all you come across?”

“I’m sorry.  You have…that’s a fishing lure…and a piece of a net…that looks like some kind of mollusk…if you’re going to have long hair, you have to care for it…this isn’t salvageable…”. You sounded almost sad and you reached around to show him a crude pair of shears, large and clearly intended for working with harder materials than hair.  “I can cut it but I’d have to remove most of it.  Your neck would be bare.”

“Why would I trust the one tugging on me to use anything with a blade near me?” 

The question felt logical.  After all, you’d caused him great discomfort.  Interrupted what was likely meant to be the embrace of death.  Maybe death was the purpose, the point.  After all, he hadn’t felt anything other than the drive to explore and understand.  And if his body couldn’t go on, then what use was…

“I can leave it if you want but it’ll weigh you down and create more drag when you swim.  Not very aerodynamic, you know?”

He turned his head and felt his skin grow hot at how close your face was to his.  You smelled of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely you and his heart began its own unorganized rhythm.  That sensation that sat at the base of his spine tingled and turned into an ache as it ran through him, ruining whatever trains of thought he had.  Now, all he could think of was your lips and how much he wanted to feel your heat against him, around him, how he wanted to see your eyes blown dark with base need…

He swallowed when you smiled and your low laugh jostled your torso into his.  You were soft , Archons above, so soft…

Your eyes seemed to marvel for a moment, dropping to the bottom half of his face, before you spoke again.

“I gave you water and made sure you didn’t dry out like a raisin; surely that’s enough reason to trust me?  All I ask in return is your name.  So if our paths ever cross again, I know what to call you.  It’s only polite.”

He couldn’t reply, too preoccupied with preventing you from realizing whatever was happening under the water.  He did not remember much but he did recall that such base needs were…a boundary for most.  One he could not get a grasp on but you were far kinder than he anticipated…

Why did that preconceived notion exist if there was no evidence to support it?  What happened ?

He felt the wet hair fall away in chunks, his neck muscles instantly relieved as soon as most of the weight was gone.  You worked carefully when the locks were short enough and only twice did you ask for him to wet his head.  Something about an even plane to work with.  He closed his eyes and leaned back a little into your gentle touch.  You knew exactly how to run your hands through his hair against his scalp.  The only sounds between the two of you was the harsh click of the shears as you worked.  

All the while, he resisted the urge to place one hand in his lap.  He couldn’t determine if he wanted to hide his protruding appendage or stroke it.

No one had touched him.  Ever.  Whatever memories of who he was were vague if not outright gone entirely but he knew that much.  His life had been solitary and this need had never existed before.

“There, all done!” You chirped.  “It’s actually quite curly when it dries.  Suits you better, if I can say so myself!”

Curly?  

He brought a hand up and felt the locks, shorn and…oh, they flipped and had patterns of their own…

You stepped away and from the pack you had thrown down, you pulled out a panel of reflective silver.  

“Here.  I’m an inventor, not a hair stylist, but I think I managed to keep your handsome visage from being ruined.”

He stared at you, and then the object, and back at you.  Didn’t people use that word for those they held affection for?  Or was it a general descriptor for someone who was pleasant to look at?

He would need to do a significant amount of research on human customs.  The knowledge he did have was insufficient and vague, like he had swallowed it without understanding its contents.

The merman took the shining glass and almost dropped it.  Familiar red eyes stared back at him, sharp teeth that tore through the flesh of any creature winked in the mirror, and his hair…

Oh, that was much better.  It wouldn’t get in the way, easy to maintain…

His right ear sported a broken piece of glass on a wire.  What had that been?  Could that pop have been…?

“Well, I don’t look like a shark attacked my head,” he muttered in amusement when he handed back the mirror.  

That earring should come out.  If it was broken, there was no point in keeping it.  Maybe he could replace it with something else.  He tilted his head to get better leverage on the post, his claws making the task harder.  Ridiculous.  How did that thing get in, then?

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’, Mister…?”

Your patience ran out, it seemed.  He returned your expectant look with a weary expression.  Truth would be prudent.  He had no one else to turn to.  And if you did run your mouth when you returned to wherever you were from, no one was liable to believe you, were they?  

After all, that was a large backpack for a day adventurer and you had absolutely no fear helping a strange creature survive.

No, you, too, were an outcast.

“I cannot recall my name,” he said at last.  “The last thing I remember is a high-pitched ringing before waking up here.”

“Nothing?  Not even a nickname?  A notion?”

Your persistence might have been charming if he wasn’t so focused on not ripping his ear fin.  Was the stupid thing sewn into his flesh?  

You clicked your tongue and knelt down beside him.  Your softness pressed into his shoulder as you brushed away his hands and worked with the clasp and post, pulling the wire from the piercing.  When you offered it, he shook his head and you reeled your arm back and flung the broken thing into the water.  It landed with a plunk and sank where it hit.

“I do have a notion, if you must insist on information.  But you have not shared your name, only your profession, inventor .”

His eyes locked with yours and you never looked away, never so much as stepped back.  No, this lack of fear wasn’t confidence, it couldn’t be.  Perhaps you were touched in the head or just absolutely without sense from the high sun.

You tilted your head and he had to close his mouth to repress the urge to latch onto the column of your neck.

Killing you would do nothing but potentially result in people looking for him.  A dead body, even that of an outcast, brutally torn apart?  It would only reinforce whatever superstitions existed in these parts.

Your name was nothing more than a whisper across your tongue.  He wondered, briefly, if the jolts that ran through every part of him at the syllables was anything like being electrocuted.  He repeated your name as his tail fins twitched and he throbbed again beneath the water.

“Mmhmm.  Your turn.”

He paused, licking his cracked lips before attempting the name that lingered in his memory banks like a ghost.

“Nadir.”

“The opposite of zenith,” you replied.  “Where someone’s shadow would appear…the lowest point of someone’s spirit…” You frowned, almost wounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last one.”

“I did not know its true meaning.  That is beneficial.”

You shook your head and gave a smile that was too tight to be kind.  You had embarrassed yourself and whatever glimmer of enthusiasm had existed was snuffed out with regret.  

“Its meaning is irrelevant.  You look like the evening sky out here, when the sun finally falls and fades from a light blue into the shades of night.  We are not our names given to us.  I think there might be a more suitable one for you out there.”

You returned to your pack and fiddled with something.  A rag and a bottle and small pieces of metal.  The merman inched himself towards the deeper parts of the water, not intent on leaving yet but itching to test his physical capabilities.  You stepped into the water with ease, legs protected by leather, and you reached down, experienced hands sliding a post into place through pierced flesh.

Nadir, for he had no other name to refer to himself, touched his fin and felt the small earring.  A stud, nothing fancy.  When he looked up, he noticed the gold and tanzanite gem from one of your own ears was missing.

“Whatever you call yourself, as long as you have that, I’ll know it’s you.  If we ever meet again.”

___________________

Without a past and without more than loose tendrils of memories, Nadir found himself wandering the coasts of an arid desert beneath high waterfalls.  He kept his hair short, as you had shaped for him, and he quite liked the way it retained a fluffy volume, curling in a wild fashion.  

In the depths, he found caverns and ruins, documents preserved through sheer luck and machinery that sputtered and whirred.

So much of the machinery felt familiar, although he didn’t know why.  He knew exactly where to touch, how the joints held together, and the distance to keep from those blasted sensors that targeted enemies.  Working with them was as easy as swimming and converting hydrogen dioxide into its smaller compound to oxygenate his circulatory system.

Presumably, whatever past he held and whatever memories were once in his system held the answer.  But he was not likely to obtain them again.

Language was retained.  The world’s history, such as it was, and its geography, were readily available.  He knew he was on the cusp of Sumeru and Fontaine.

But he did not know how he came to be.  Nor understand why he was so fascinated with the notion of artificial life (other than, perhaps, that he was not quite organic nor mechanic).

Above the waterfalls was a large statue that glowed bright at night.  The water there was purer, crisper, tinged with a sweetness that came with the surety of one’s actions.  Climbing it would not be impossible, even for Nadir; he did not lack the muscles to achieve it.

But it would be a waste of energy and time.

Where there were steam engines and mechanics, there were pipes to provide water to the various parts necessary.  He could only conclude that there were other means to make one’s way into Fontaine.  

The Fountain of all life.

Part of him wished to stay here, in the seams of the nations, perhaps even set up a workshop.  There was plenty to explore and play around with.  Ships came through here regularly and superstitious sailors would be easy to bargain with.

But Nadir was never one for staying idle.  The world waited for no one and there was so much more beyond his tiny scope.

And so, upon several inspections and tracking of schedules, he entered one of the pipes at the most opportune time and came out of the darkness to shining brilliance and crystalline waters.  The shallows were tricky for a creature like him, for he could not easily hide and there was too much activity around for his liking.

The other creatures were friendlier than he expected.  Otters tumbled with their shells and presented him with a rock to tuck away.  Blubberbeasts rumbled and invited him to swim with them.  The crabs were troublesome but nothing he couldn’t handle with a hard thwack of his tail and a slash of his claws.

Glowing crystals, flowing fauna, coral reefs…everything here teemed with life.  

And below Fontaine City, there was plenty to explore, it seemed.

Yes, this would do quite nicely for now.

___________________

He settled in quickly.  Food was abundant and there were so many caverns and old ruins that Nadir was not without shelter.  Some of the ruins appeared to be some kind of research facility or library, which suited him just fine.

What did not suit him were the random devices that would find their way to his usual hunting ground.  They often scared the fish away and he would return to his vast underground network with only metal cogs and curiosity, his stomach grumbling all the while.  Many of these things were almost operational as well.  It was like someone tired of the project or could not finish it through and flung it out the nearest window.

Ridiculous.  Wasteful.  Pathetic.

Nadir fixed the contraption once he understood its mechanical intentions and returned it to the shoreline.  On more than one occasion, he tied a bow on one out of seaweed, just to be, well, petty and make it harder for the owner to pick up.

The devices were always gone within twenty-four hours and in their place, he found mora.  Which he had little to no use for but at least the sailors he traded with never questioned its origin.  

One day, Nadir was unlucky enough to be caught as he was placing an unfortunate device back onto the ledge.  

“So you’re the reason I’ve yet to be fined, huh?”

His garnet gaze burned as he laid eyes on familiar hair, shining eyes.  He would know you anywhere.

Surely not.

Surely you had more sense than to throw away your projects.  To complete them yourself.  

He couldn’t determine if he should be angry or ravenous.  You, in Fontaine?  It must have been fate.  But then again, fate implied agreeing with the Heavenly Principles and partaking in the constant samara cycles of the world.  Which Nadir wanted no part of.

“And you call yourself an inventor,” he muttered, running his tongue over sharp teeth.  “Can’t even follow through on your own work.”

“Not my fault everything’s been done before.  Just when I think I’m making progress, turns out seven other people did the same thing.  Nothing’s original.”

“So have I been fixing garbage for nothing?”

“No.  I did earn a position in research and development for a private company that works with the Palais thanks to you.  And I have been fairly compensating you…although in hindsight perhaps I should have asked if mora was the best way to do that…not many places to use it for those who live in the water…”

You trailed off, face alight with embarrassment.  Your attire was dingy and looked like you’d endured an explosion.  Nadir sank into the water, keeping his eyes and ear fins just above the surface.

“How long have you been in Fontaine?” You asked, settling into the ledge.

You removed your boots and stockings and stuck your feet into the water.  Nadir couldn’t help but admire your bare skin for a moment before raising his head.

“I do not know how you track time but I have seen winter and spring already.  That is roughly…six months, if I calculated correctly.”

“You were okay when the waters froze over?”

How did he tell you that he held memories of ice far thicker and water far colder?  

“I am here, am I not?” Nadir shot back.

You gave a wry smile in return.  Silence dominated as you watched him, just as he watched you in return.  

“You kept it,” you pointed to your hair and then your ear.

“Short hair is far more practical and the earring is quite pretty.  It reminds me that some humans can be kind.  If not a bit…lacking in self preservation.”

“Oh?”

Nadir gave a wide, toothy grin and you didn’t so much as flinch.  When you didn’t react, he slid his tongue out slightly, the exact way he would when eyeing prey.

“I could have killed you in the desert.”

“But you didn’t.”

“And I could kill you now.”

“You won’t.”

Nadir barked a laugh.  “What makes you so sure?”

Your smile widened.  He watched as, for the first time that evening, a spark shimmered in your eyes.

“Because you enjoy tinkering.  If you killed me, what else would you fill your days with, Nadir?”

“You think very highly of yourself, Inventor.  There’s plenty of underwater devices, I’ll have you know.  Some of the Research Facility fell into the water, after all.  And it’s quite easy to find the parts I need from defective mechs or bargaining with divers.”

“And who else would you talk to, hmm?  Who else is brave enough—”

“Stupid enough,” Nadir interrupted.

You raised an eyebrow but continued, “—to try and bridge the gap?”

Nadir’s gaze dropped to your bare knees and feet, where your skin met the water, before he flicked his eyes back up to you.  Even now, months after you saved him, you sat with him and treated him as an equal.  Anyone else would attempt to bargain with him, keep him at arm’s length but here you were, feet in the water, treating him like…

Like you wanted him.

His chest constricted.  In the deep reaches of his mind, he tried to remember a time or a place someone wanted him and he came up short.

He reached a webbed hand, mindful of his razor-sharp claw, and danced a finger on the sole of your foot.  When you didn’t react, he swam closer, skimming his palm across the muscle of your calf.  

“And what gap might that be, hmm?” He asked as he situated himself between your open legs.  

From this angle, you were smaller than he originally thought (or perhaps it was the ledge height); he towered over you regardless.  His heart danced in time with the cadence of your laugh when his nails tickled your skin ever so slightly.

You smelled different than the last time he saw you.  Metal, soot, and the air of the thunderstorm just before the crack of lightning.  

He expected cockiness, a sharp remark.  But all Nadir found was a simmering gaze and parted lips, perfect for the taking.  Your breath mingled with his and he couldn’t help but wonder what you might taste like.  

“This one,” you whispered.

You leaned forward and Nadir gripped your legs to keep you from falling as your lips crashed onto his.  You were all softness, eager heat, and searing touches as you rested your hands flat against his bare chest.

His head swam as you pressed exploratory kisses to his mouth and jaw.  He read about this, along with many other things regarding human courting and mating.  Few researchers knew of or studied the creatures he was created to mimic.  But he knew enough to recognize that his body’s responses were normal, even if he disliked the loss of control.

Nadir gave a hiss as your dull teeth grazed the curve of his neck before you swirled your tongue across his skin.  His skin felt as if he were on fire.  A shiver ran down his spine and a throbbing ache settled in his lower belly as he hardened at your teasing.  

As long as he kept himself in the water and you stayed on the ledge, he might survive this encounter with shreds of self-control.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, human ,” he murmured.

“Am I?” 

You laughed softly into the soft flesh of his neck and he twitched beneath the water as a jolt ran straight down to his member.  Your warmth left him as you pulled away and he gripped your legs harder when you cupped his face.

“Looks like you’re liking it, though.  Flustered just like when I cut your hair.”

Well, that left him with no choice.

Nadir pulled you into the water with a splash and he dove, crashing his tail on the surface once to create additional spray.  He heard a cry as you flailed, your head bobbing above water once, twice, and then you began to…

Panic shot through him, killing everything else as he darted towards you.  In one swift motion, he scooped you under your arms and brought you back to the surface.  His heart calmed every so slightly when you gasped and coughed (although he would not have minded pressing his mouth to your again).  The ledge you were on was too high to easily reach, he realized, and he brought you to the nearest patch of shallow water.

“You could have mentioned that you couldn’t swim,” he muttered, settling you into the shoal.

“Right, yeah, because I’m going to admit that to a man with a tail and fins who lives in the water.  That’s like telling your murderer where to shoot you.”

Your voice cracked.  You sniffed and then coughed again before getting to your feet.

“Am I not allowed to tease you back?”

“ Teasing would be pulling away and splashing me,” you shot back, extending an arm out in emphasis.  “Finding something else about me to make a flirtatious response about.  Not putting me in danger.  What if I hit my head going down?  What if you didn’t have the reflexes you do?”

You wrung out your clothes and tried to make yourself presentable.  The previous flush across your cheeks was no longer soft and endearing; you instead looked like you were trying to embody the red creatures he saw in the regions near the Fortress.  Your eyes shone but not with the usual enthusiasm nor vibrancy he liked.  In fact, you didn’t look at him at all.

“For the record, most people apologize when they hurt someone else.”

He wanted to call after you as you trudged through the water, your name (your beautiful, brilliant name) on his lips.  But he didn’t want to taint it.  You didn’t deserve that.

Nadir watched, only the top half of his face to the bridge of his nose above the surface, as you made your way back into the city without sparing a glance back.

___________________

He never had a single device thrown into the nearby waters after that encounter.  

And you never came to claim the one you left behind.

It glared at him every time the morning sun glinted off the metal and he caught the stupid thing out of the corner of his eye.  A constant reminder of you , as if the pangs that shot through his arms and chest weren’t enough.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you.  In fact, despite his words, he never would have been able to bring himself to truly sink his teeth into your flesh.  Nadir would never be able to live with himself if he watched life fade from your eyes and your body slump.

Which made him all the more frustrated with himself.  Pulling you into the water had been a gut reaction, a way to equal the playing ground when you were so intent on mocking him.  He did it with sailors who tried to cheat him out of an agreement.

How was he supposed to know you, someone who lived in the city of Hydro, couldn’t swim ?

Part of him tried to simply forget you and move on with his existence.  That’s what any normal creature would do, after all.  You weren’t like him and you certainly weren’t as clever as he was, at any rate.

But he never heard anything as beautiful as your laugh and the way you smiled at him…

He tried not to take the physical reactions into consideration, how he imagined you might feel beneath him, what coupling with you might feel like as you squeezed him, your lips parted and eyes lidded…

His seed joined the seafoam one morning before he grabbed the stupid contraption and brought it back to his workshop.

How did one apologize ?

This device was meant to be a timed lantern; the user would set the amount of time on the bottom in increments of five, ten, fifteen minutes up until a full hour.  You had not positioned the heat sensor right and it kept turning off before the actual timer recognized the appropriate measurement of time.  It was functional now and to change anything would render it useless for its intended purpose.

Nadir frowned.  He’d had a purpose once, hadn’t he?  His creation was not random; one did not just assemble pseudo-biological systems for no reason, after all.  Despite having no memories of his creator, he knew his muscles were synthetic and his biological systems were as functional and necessary as any other living creature.  Granted, he never tried not eating, but why else did he physically respond to your touch at all, if nothing was functional ?

He shoved the thought aside as he disassembled the housing on the lantern and removed the bulb, leaving only the lighting node itself, the sensors, and the glass panels through which the light shone.

The timer moved a set of cogs as it counted down and the heat sensor had a little lever to insert a piece of non-conductive material into the circuit, cutting off the flow of power.  Simple and basic wiring and cog placement.

But…

He rummaged through and found a comb and wheel, the pieces sliding home as if they were meant to be there.  Thorough testing revealed that another song might be needed, both because this one was grating to listen to and because he needed to take the extended intervals into consideration.

While he continued to work on the abandoned device, he sought pathways into the city itself.  Just like with the waterfall and the elevator’s steam engines, there was no way all of the machinery in the city operated without some kind of system to pump water through the streets.  Eventually, he came upon pipes and underground tunnels, entire networks of stairs and walkways far beneath the sunlight of the city.  

Small houses, crammed in next to one another, food stands and market stalls packed as vendors bargained and shouted.  Children ran along the waterways, pretending sticks from the surface were swords.

He never allowed more than his eyes above the surface and never for too long.  This was too close for comfort.  The last thing anyone down here needed was a rumor of a monster lurking in the water.  

It took weeks but he finally heard murmurs of your whereabouts.  A child, knelt down next to a broken mechanical animal, was told your name and that you fixed machines all the time.  That you could be found on the outskirts of the market when you weren’t working on the surface.

The sections there were shallower, if not outright inaccessible Nadir recalled.  Perhaps not quite a problem but admittedly, it made this all the harder.

Upon hearing your voice from one of the tiny cramped living spaces, he burned the image of your door into your mind until he finished the device.  He wrapped it carefully and made his way back to your location, the invention clutched tight to his chest.  Knowing at this hour that no one would spot him, Nadir lifted himself out of the shallows before the grating covered the waterway.  He pulled himself along with one arm until he reached your door, carefully placed the gift where you would see it and not break it, and gave your door a good thwack with his tail.  You grumbled a threat to supposed intruders as he made his way back to the water and he dove just as he heard your door open.

Quietly, he surfaced and watched as you picked up the wet oilskin package and opened it.  You froze almost instantly in recognition (he had not changed the shape in the slightest, despite his modifications).  Nadir’s heart hammered in his chest and his mouth became surprisingly dry when you wound up the key on the bottom.

The lantern flickered to life and images began to move between the bulb and the glass panels, casting shadows on the metal walls.  Notes from a song he only knew in composition danced in the air as you watched the shapes.  Nadir’s eyes were glued to your face.

A tail became legs.  The figure walked to another.  A kiss.  A house.  A life.

He once read a tale about a girl from Remuria, born partially in the image of an Oceanid, who fell in love with a person on the surface.  She made a bargain for her voice in exchange for the excruciating experience of legs, endearing pain with every step just to be with her true love.

It was too flowery for Nadir’s liking and seemed to reinforce the idea that people should stay where they belonged.  Nonetheless, the base sentiments were there.

You closed your eyes and clutched the lantern to your chest when the song ended.  

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, the words as loud to him as though he spoke them right next to him.

He did not expect you to join him the following evening.  But when he heard the notes as he was hunting for dinner, he could not help but heed the call.

You stood on the ledge, lantern in your hands.  Your face was puffy and you looked like you hadn’t slept.  A terrible look for you, if he were honest, but now was not the best time to say such a thing.

“Is this how you feel?” you asked.  “About me?”

Your words were soft and you broke your gaze away to look at the lantern you held.  He should have had a speech prepared.  Or at least a sound argument.  In actuality, he never expected you to show up again.  It had been enough to express how he felt through the shadow art and he would have been content with your apology, even if he wasn’t supposed to overhear it.

The longer the silence stretched on, the thinner your patience became.

And you were gracious enough to make the trip.

“If you are asking if I love you, the answer is truthfully that I do not know,” Nadir admitted.  “I have never had the life experience to tell me one way or the other and it is easy to mistake infatuation and lust for something more…foundational.”

He ran his tongue over the sharp points of his teeth.  

“But I do know that I never meant to harm you, that I never wanted to harm you, and I think I would be quite happy seeing your face every day of my existence.  However long that’s meant to be.”

He could see by the way your expression shifted that you had plenty of words to say.  For the first time since he met you, however, you opted for silence and instead placed the lantern down on the ground.  You removed your boots and uniform, leaving yourself only in the thin underclothes that gave the vague outline of your true form.

And then you jumped.

Your name left his lips as soon as you broke the surface and Nadir flicked his tail, propelling himself forward.

Was the idea of loving him so abhorrent that you could drown yourself to be rid of him?  Did you truly have a death wish?

Hands found his chest before arms wrapped around his neck and he surface with you clinging to him, your feet kicking.  Nadir glared down at you, a cheeky smile across your face the whole while.

“What were you thinking—” he started.

Wait, kicking?

You giggled and pushed away from him, moving your arms and legs to keep yourself afloat.

“Forced myself to learn.  I didn’t have a lot of time after my shifts for much else.  But I realized I was actually angry at myself,” you said.  “Had I known how to swim, that night would have gone differently.”

Your movements were clumsy but calculated.  Swimming wasn’t even second nature to you, or even third; he could see it in the way you expended too much energy in treading, in the clear discomfort of you submerging yourself under water.

“I’d like to try again,” you said, swimming slightly closer.  “If you’d be open to it.”

Nadir couldn’t name the feeling that seemed to stem from his fins and reach all the way into his head, making him dizzy.  

“You… want to…”

“Would I be here if I never wanted to see you again, Nadir?”

No, you didn’t seem the type, he wanted to say.  But sometimes, silence was better.  It didn’t weigh everything down.  And he very much enjoyed this warm feeling swelling inside of him seeing you in the water with him.

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

___________________

It took time, as all things did. 

You moved out of the undercity and, with a little help from a few colleagues from your company’s engineering department, assembled a house over the water just northeast of Fontaine City.  The trip into the city was the same length of time as before.  Only now, there were beaches instead of stone ledges and you had plans for creating underwater parts of the house for Nadir.

The lantern often lit up your room at night when the two of you went to sleep, both of you keenly aware of the other’s absence.

You didn’t want a solution that involved changing him, you said one night, toes in the sand.  Although you might never share the same bed nor eat at the same table, you were content to have dinner in the same space as him and to sit on the beach and discuss various mechanical ideas until the early hours of the morning.

At some point, he confessed to knowing that he was not entirely organic and that he hailed from a frozen country.  Beyond that, he held little to no recollection; when you protested about closure, he pressed his lips to yours and said that you were all he needed.

Hearing your resolution on not changing him meant more to him than he could truly put into words.  Finding a way to give him legs would be more practical but there was so much of human life that he didn’t understand nor wanted to.  

So instead, he opted to hold you close, tail in the tide, and point out the available constellations.

Until your breath was too hot on his neck and he lost the ability to concentrate.  This close, your scent mingling with the fresh evening breeze, your soft warmth pressed against his side, Nadir wondered if he might combust.

Discussions of logistics happened, of course.  You were no biologist but you admired his form on more than one occasion and took to sketching him when you needed a break from schematics.  He had felt your wet folds before when you directed his hand through your panties and demanded he understand just what his affections did to you.

He did. All too well.

Nadir grew hot when your hand wandered, tracing his slit and the tip of his member.  He gasped when you coaxed him further, your lips on his neck and his cock in your hand; he turned his head and found you gazing not at the stars but at him, every bit of you burning with a deeper yearning than mere lust.  

“I mean it.  I don’t want anything different.  Just you.”

You ran your hands through his hair, tugging slightly and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I want to taste you first,” he panted.  “Properly.”

Before he could rearrange either of you, you remove the remainder of your garments and situated your legs around his neck.  Your folds were glistening with your own slick and he only caught a glimpse before his nose was pressed against your clit and your scent and taste overwhelmed him.

Nadir gripped your thighs tight, nails digging into the soft flesh as he licked and teased.  He did his best to keep his teeth covered as he dipped between your folds, feeling your velvet walls against his tongue.  He pulled away only long enough to nibble at your thighs and nuzzle between your folds, reveling in the way your desire dripped down his chin.  

Your taste made him dizzy and served to only harden him further.  Your feisty hand reached behind you and squeezed his length and he groaned, the edge already closer than he wished it was.

No, not yet.

He pulled your hips down onto him and pushed his tongue into you as far as it would go.  Judging from the jolt that rocked both of you, that was much deeper than you anticipated.  He flicked across one particular spot and you bucked again as you gave a low whine.

Now that was interesting…you enjoyed that…

Nadir repeated the motion and you clenched around his tongue with a louder cry.  He continued, unrelenting, until you shuddered, walls fluttering as your taste changed and you gushed atop him.  You were breathless, chest heaving, glowing with a desire yet to be extinguished.

He licked every drop from your lips and your thighs.   You tasted magnificent and he couldn’t let that go to waste.

Your hands reached for him again but Nadir leveraged you with ease and flipped both of you over, your back on the sand and legs wrapped around his waist.

“I need all of you,” he whispered.  “Just you.”

You felt absolutely divine against his tip and he eased into you slowly, inch by inch, your swollen walls still fluttering.  He watched your expression, eyes widening and lips parting in pants as he finally bottomed out.  You were already beautiful but like this? 

Such things were not meant for this world.  And yet you were all his .

Your hands trailed across his back and down along his hips, tracing the scales of his tail.  He moaned when, as he pulled out slightly to simply steady himself, the heel of your foot pressed against his tail and pushed him back in and you held him there, filling you entirely with his length.  He nipped at your neck in retaliation.  

“Nadir…”

Oh, when you said his name like that, dragging out the last syllable…

He pulsed inside you and you had the gall to bring your other leg up, pinning him inside you.  Nadir gritted his teeth and, claws digging into your waist, pulled you further down the shore and into the water.  He flipped both of you so you rested atop him, legs encircling his waist, and your bodies still joined at the hip.  You sputtered for a moment but were wholly undeterred

He continued to thrust into you lazily as he floated along to deeper water.  He held you tight, and pulled your body further underwater, until only your heads were above the surface.  You were weightless on top of him, shrouded in his element, and he dragged out both of your releases until you convulsed on top of him, moaning incoherently.  

Nadir buried his face in your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his guttural groan as he released deep inside you.  He shuddered as you peaked again, the intensity too much for him to bear so soon.

He kissed and licked your shoulder apologetically as you both came down from your high, tangled in one another.  In the distance, the water sparkled with the promise of daybreak, the sky already full of soft pinks and oranges.  Had you truly been up all night?

“Have you ever seen such a beautiful sunrise?” you whispered, nuzzling closer to him.

A vague memory tickled his mind.  A flick of fins, a touch of dawn, possessive glares.

If that was beauty by most standards, then he wanted no recollection of that.

“No.  No, I have not, my love.  But every day with you will contain such light.  I’m sure of it.”

[thatguywhofedme]

Scooter bound

I looked in the rear view mirror as I see you stuffing yourself with your second family size bucket of chicken, tearing into it like an animal with gravy all over your face and clothes

You saw that i was enjoying the show and decided to lift up your shirt to rub and squeeze that big gut of yours with your hand covered in grease and chicken crumbs

"glad... You're..... Happy.... With the...... Results... Frrrrttthhh..... Ufffff...... Of your...... Deeds....."

You couldn't help but blow a kiss towards the direction of your massive partner while they continued

"I.... Know.... You..... Wanted me..... Big....... UUUUUuuuuuuurrrrrrppppppp........ Mmmmmhhh....... But you've...... Made...... Me..... Gigantic......"

Indeed that's exactly what you've done, with your incessant need to stuff more down your piggy's throat with all the takoeout imaginable and literal lard shakes, in seven years, you've transformed a skinny twig into a 694lbs slob that only wants to eat, fuck and get fatter each day

"that's the goal dearie, but you're still too skinny for me, I mean you're still able to come shopping with me and that's unacceptable, we need you pinned to your bariatric bed instead of using that scooter to go anywhere"

The scooter was barely able to move under its own power anymore, it's not that easy to transport almost 700lbs of blubber, who would've guessed

It was fitted with an oxygen tank in the back with a cannula that was needed pretty much all the time

While you heard a moan from the back because of what was said, you saw your destination approaching

"we're almost there sweetie, you better finish that bucket quickly"

You said as you saw your partner eating even faster, finishing the bucket as you parked the custom van in the handicap spot

You open the sliding door and wait for the ramp to lower itself as your partner move the scooter down the ramp and you two head towards walmart

"you better be ready to fill this basket of yours, you're going to need all the calories you can to reach 700lbs in at least two weeks"

"yes........ Daddy........."

You both got into the store, picked up a shopping cart and began feeling it up full of frozen pizza's, cakes and other unhealthy treats

After a while, you felt someone squeeze your butt from behind

"honey....... I'm..... Uuurrp... So Hungry....."

You thought about it and had an idea

"follow me"

You heard the scooters engine struggling to work with all the added weight but saw your feedee following you nonetheless

You got to the bathroom and held the door open for the scooter

"get into the handicap stall, I'll be back in a sec"

You said winking at your morbidly obese partner

You came back with a box of cupcakes, a cake, a bag of chips and a 2 liter of orange crush

You got into the stall and locked the door behind

You began feeding your partner the bag of chips by hand, which was empty in not even a minute

Then it was time for the cupcakes, plopping one at a time in your partners mouth while chewing them

And finally, it was time for the cake but.....

"honey...... I'm...... Getting..... Really..... Full...... I...... Dont think...... I'll be...... Able........ To...... Do..... This...... Bwaaaaarrrrppp"

You looked into their eyes and they knew exactly they had fucked up

You took the 2l bottle, opened and began pouring the content down their throat

After 2 minutes of hearing your partner struggling to drink the fizzy content, you took the bottle away from their lips when the content was empty and waited for their stomach to release the air

After a few seconds, you heard a loud

"BBBWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP.......Aaaaaaaaahhhh"

Then, you uncovered the cake, put your hand behind their head and pushed their face in the cake

"don't you dare say that to me, you WILL eat everything I put in front of you piggy whether you want to or not"

You heard your partner chewing as fast as their chubby cheeks would allow them and that's when you both heard it

The sound of the door opening with footsteps coming towards your stall

You knew you were fucked if they discovered you had "stolen" some food to feed your partner

Fortunately the door to the stall next to you opened and not even five minutes later, they were gone

You looked at your partner and realized they were very horny

Rubbing your legs and wanting a sloppy kiss

You obliged and that's when they spilled the beans

"this...... Was...... So...... Hot...... Fuck....... Me......... Uuuuurrrrppp........ Now......."

You started kissing your blobby partner while reaching between their huge thighs and finding what you were looking for

You both began breathing heavier, well, your partner was more panting and wheezing like the fat pig they are

You then got your hands in the cake and began feeding them the rest of it by hand

"you sexy pig, look at you, so fat you're not even able to get yourself off properly, at least you got me to help with this little issue of yours, which I'm sure you don't mind"

To clarify your point, your partner put their hand behind your head and pulled you in for a kiss, exchanging bits of cake while making out

Your partner then began oddibly moaning and when they were about to cum, you put their face in the rest of the cake to make it even messier, but also to muffle the scream of ecstasy coming out of their greedy mouth

Seeing your satisfied partner panting like never before, you began cleaning the mess and licking all the frosting from their face and fingers while catching their breath

"now....... That..... Hit...... The....... Frrrrttthhh........ Spot........"

You kissed them and began making your way out of the stall while watching your partners ass sag off to the sides and grabbing some blubber in the process

You continued your shopping for more gluttonous treats to feed your piggy later on

[sourcreammachine]

after observing us for a period of time, the aliens decided to begin a humanitarian mission to earth, to provide technology and welfare in the name of compassion and peace

various items were bequeathed to earth’s people - quantum generators, relativistic propulsion drives, electrosynthetic nutrition systems, and, of course, healing tanks

not long after your community had its tank installed, you totally ate shit and sprained your ankle. as you were actively in agony, when you went to your local health centre you were triaged way up the queue, ahead of people waiting to get their long-term health conditions treated in the tank - ahead of diabetes, ahead of pollen allergy, ahead of depression. that’s how triage works

you hang up your clothes, get over the awkwardness of the attendant aliens seeing your junk, put on the oxygen mask, and let them carefully lower you into the gunk, letting you gently float off your wounded ankle

they activate the process, and you start feeling a tingling in your ankle, then numbness, then a pleasant comfort as your sprain is set right. the sensation appears in a couple more places - old scars healing over, your achy back being strengthened, your eyesight becoming 20/20. and then it’s everywhere, you’re totally numb, everywhere is tingly and comforted. your consciousness slips

you come round while they’re raising you out of the tank. you’re not totally dazed, so the grogginess is dispelled pretty quickly. you grab your clothes, put on your baggy underpants without a second thought, then put your legs through your jeans, bring the fastener together… and they’re too small. and you notice, the legs are floppy and long as well.. you’ve shrunk in the wash

you drape your now-baggy shirt over yourself and leave the room, unable to communicate with the aliens, who’re rather oblivious to your confusion. you’re grabbing the waist of the jeans and waddling awkwardly down the corridor, and panickedly enter the public toilets to get your bearings, your head spinning

you run the taps, and lean on the basin, and catch yourself in the mirror. your shirt, so massively oversized.. your shoulders, squished.. and your face…

tears of joy are streaming when you’re interrupted. the door swings, and a middle-aged guy strides in, before stopping a few paces away from the urinals

“y’okay there, miss?”

[blurredcolour]

Extrication in G Major | Part Three

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Summary: Jake shows up with something rather important that you left at his house and finds out just why you left the way you did. You think you’ve found a way to move forward, but objects in the rear-view mirror are closer than they appear.

Warnings: Language, Reader has Panic Attacks, Vague Reference to Reader’s Traumatic Past, Vague Reference to Jake’s Difficult Family, Monetary Issues, Threats, Mature/Explicit Themes [manual stimulation – f receiving, oral – f receiving, vaginal penetration, condoms, multiple orgasms] – 18+ only

Word Count: 5705

The night had been anything but restful; cycling between guilt at how you’d left the party, despair at Jake’s cold response, and the ugly memories of your past. It was no surprise, then, that when the knock came on your door at ten the next morning you were still in bed, trying to soak in as much rest as you could muster. Or perhaps you were too weary to face the day.

You were tempted to ignore it, to pretend you weren’t home, to hope they would go away. But they knocked again, and you sighed deeply, sitting up. Dressed only in a tank top and sleep shorts, you reached for the nearest thing to cover yourself – an old, oversized New York Giants sweatshirt your father had sent to you when he’d learned you were moving to Boston. You pulled it on and shuffled towards the door, pulling the chain and turning the deadbolt before swinging it open to reveal a very tense Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

His shoulders were squared back, his expression guarded…a tight mask of firm lines in place of his usually sunny expression.

“Morning.” He greeted you and you felt the absence of ‘darlin’’ like a yawning chasm between the two of you. “You forgot this.” He held out your cello and you lurched forward to grab it quickly, afraid to meet his eyes.

You could feel how swollen and irritated the nighttime tears had left your eyelids and cheeks – given his cold demeanor, you were loathe to expose that to him.

“Thanks very much for returning it to me.” You quickly set it on the ground, turning back to him and blinking to see he was wearing his uniform boots…it was still Saturday, wasn’t it? You hadn’t lost that much time, had you?

Your eyes flicked up along the green fabric covering his body, the patches on his shoulders and across his chest, before they slipped to his eyes in confusion at the fact that he was clearly wearing a uniform of some sort. The sadness that mottled the usual crystal-clear green of his eyes drove the air from your lungs and sent you reeling back a step. Your hand groped for the handle of the door, your body in desperate need of support as somehow, in all of this, you had become the person who let people down. The person who disappointed others.

Despite your admittedly dehydrated state, there were somehow fresh tears accumulating at the waterline of your eyes as the weight began bearing down on your chest once more.

“I’m so…sorry…Jake…” You gasped out, the hinges of the door groaning in protest as you leaned heavily on the knob, head swimming.

“…jesus christ…” You heard him say, distantly, before you felt him gather you to his chest, carrying you further into your apartment.

He sat on the end of your bed, settling you across his lap and cradling you against his torso. His broad palm gently drew circles between your shoulder blades as you felt his chest rise and fall steadily against your shoulder.

“Can you breathe for me, darlin’?” He asked softly, his free hand squeezing the back of your calf, his fingers stretching up into the hollow behind your knee.

You focused on the rhythm of his breath against you, did your best to mimic it, your fingers and toes tingling as oxygenated blood returned to your extremities.

“You’re doing so great.” He gave you an encouraging squeeze and you huffed a watery laugh. “Rooster said you looked panicked….” He murmured against the top of your head, and you nodded as it was an accurate word for the situation. “Can you talk about it?” He asked quietly and you shook your head quickly. “Ok…ok…easy…” He squeezed you again gently, hand still making soothing motions against your back.

Recovery was much quicker in his arms, you found, and you straightened carefully to look at him properly.

“Thank you, Jake. And I’m sorry.” You reiterated, reaching out with a hand to cup his cheek.

“Just…please will you tell me next time?” He swallowed; brow furrowed. “Maybe even what causes ‘em?”

You swallowed at his earnest desire to help you. This should be the moment when you pushed him away for good and forever, but you were helpless to stop your feelings for him. Considering that the mere thought of disappointing him had sent you spiralling not five minutes ago, perhaps it would be unwise to even try. Nodding softly, you leaned in to press your lips against his cheek gently.

“I’ll try.” You affirmed as you leaned back to dab at a few teardrops still clinging to your lower lashes with the cuff of your sweatshirt.

You felt his hand slide up your leg to tug at the bottom of the blue fabric, eyebrow raised curiously.

“This…we will also definitely be talking about this, too.” He smirked and you laughed tiredly, letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. “Really darlin’….the Giants?” You giggled and felt his lips brush against your temple. “It will have to wait, however, otherwise I’m going to be late for work.”

You jerked back as he confirmed what you had being trying to sort out earlier.

“On a Saturday?” You tilted your head in confusion and watched as he nodded proudly.

“Today is the flyover at the football game.” He watched as recognition dawned on your face, his own smile stretching wider.

“That felt so far away when you first told me…So that’s why you’re wearing…this…” You pressed your lips together, fingertips trailing down his zipper absently, defenses completely decimated by exhaustion.

You caught the bobbing of his adam’s apple before his tongue wet his lips.

“My flight suit, yes…This is what I wear in the air…” He replied, watching you intently.

“Jake?” You whispered, trying not to look at his lips, but your eyes accidentally fell there once or twice.

“Yes, darlin’?” He breathed in reply.

“You’re gonna be late…” You gulped, biting you lip.

His eyes fell shut and he inhaled deeply through his nose, nodding slowly.

“You’re right, I have to go. Promise me you’ll take it easy today?” He opened his eyes and turned to gently set you on the bed before standing.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander.” You nodded up to him with a grin and saw him clench his fists.

“Darlin’, I’m trying to leave, not pin you to the bed…” He huffed in a flood of honesty, and you bit you lip almost painfully at the rush of heat that unfurled within you.

“Sorry, Jake. Have fun up there.” You tried to keep your tone light.

“I can definitely do that. See you later, darlin’.” He nodded and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before forcing himself out of the door of your apartment.

You got up and locked it behind him, tucking the cello away in its hiding spot, before taking a shower. You were just pulling on a fresh pair of comfortable clothes when there was another knock at the door. Opening it, you found a delivery of breakfast had arrived, making you sigh fondly. You settled to eat it in bed, despite having a perfectly good dining table, and sent him a grateful picture to prove that you were indeed taking it easy.

You set a timer to be sure to catch his flyover, sending him a screenshot to prove that you had watched it, before curling up for a nap. The past twenty-four hours had more than confirmed that you needed to look into help of some kind. Full blown panic attacks had never hit you in rapid succession before, and the cost could obviously be more than just the physical toll on your body.

At some point over the next week, Jake started calling you after work rather than just texting. It did both of you good to hear one another’s voices in the evenings, chatting idly about the day, making plans for the upcoming weekend.

“So, I can pick you up after the open rehearsal at the band shell?” He confirmed on Thursday, and you could hear the sound of the letter opener tearing through his mail.

“I’m counting on it, Jake.” You smiled warmly, sticking a bookmark into the Rachmaninoff biography you were reading and closing the book with a thunk.

“You still working through that Russian tome?” He teased, hearing the noise through the phone.

“It’s for work, Jake, if I’m going to play the man’s music if helps if I understand the man…” You laughed, shaking your head. “Besides, he was rather fascinating, it’s not that much of a chore…I’m sure you enjoy reading your plane books.” You smirked, knowingly saying inflammatory things.

“I do, in fact, but I’m not reading a book about the man who designed the plane…” He clarified but sighed deeply before tearing open another envelope. There was a loaded silence that had you glancing at your phone.

“My mom sent me an engraved invitation for Easter. ‘Dear Jacob, You are cordially invited’…who does that?...Family is….” He trailed off into silence and you rolled onto your back, eyes roaming across the water stained, textured ceiling above you.

“The people we love no matter how many times they disappoint us.” You added contemplatively.

“That you or Rachmaninoff talking, darlin’.” He asked carefully and you tensed, realizing you’d said more than you meant to.

“De…definitely Rachmaninoff…but more Russian of course…Wanna hear something he actually said?” You rolled over quickly, hoping to distract him as you re-opened the book to a page you had marked with a sticky note.

“Of course.” He said indulgently, the sound of him chewing on one of usual post-work snacks coming through the phone.

‘The new kind of music seems to create not from the heart but from the head. Its composers think rather than feel. They have not the capacity to make their works exalt – they meditate, protest, analyze, reason, calculate and brood, but they do not exalt.’ You read from the page and sighed reverently. “No wonder his contemporaries wrote him off – they just didn’t like what he had to say about them.”

“Bet you look real cute right now with those musical stars in your eyes…” Jake murmured and you laughed softly, shaking your head.

“D…do you think you’ll go home for Easter?” You bit your lip as you waited for his answer, hoping you hadn’t overstepped.

“I put in for the leave, we’ll see what they say…You still have a performance that week right?”

You nodded before remembering you were on a voice call.

“Yeah, yeah we do, so I’ll be here if you can’t go.” You offered and he hummed happily. You chatted about a few more topics, including the meal he started preparing before you swallowed roughly to pluck up your courage. “Hey Jake?”

“Yeah darlin’?” He replied immediately.

“You asked me what causes…my panic attacks…uhm…. gambling and disappointing you…the last one was new., though” You exhaled shakily, chewing on a hangnail as you waited for his reply.

“Thank you.” He replied warmly and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I promise we won’t do that around you, ok? You have my word.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You smiled softly.

“And you could never disappoint me…” He assured you softly, making you smile shyly.

“I appreciate that, thank you. I’ll see you Saturday?”

“Night, darlin’.”

Rehearsal on Saturday afternoon went well, though it was hard not to be distracted by thoughts of what you and Jake might get up to afterward. At last, you were making your way towards the exit where you’d arranged to meet him when the dark-haired figure of Luca Palumbo stepped out of your nightmares and into your path, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Well, hello there, kid. This sure is a long way from Boston.” He smiled in a way that, to any onlooker would seem friendly, but you knew better.

There was only one reason this man would have made the effort to track you down. Only one reason he would have made the trip from New Jersey to San Diego. You heart started slamming against your ribs as you visualized the meagre number in your savings account, the utter lack of assets to liquidate this time.

“H…how much…” You croaked, trying to count three on the inhale and the exhale as the counsellor had taught you on your first and, so far, only visit. You did not want to fully melt down in front of your colleagues and the general public.

“An even 60k, I’m sure you can manage…” He grinned expectantly.

You shook your head in disbelief. “When…”

“He’s already three weeks overdue, kid, you know I only come to you when I have no other choice.”

Frowning deeply, you looked to the side, trying to do some quick calculations – a natural reflex in the face of your father’s debts. There was truly no way for you to scrape this together, and no reputable financial institution would loan you the money. Maybe a payday loan service, but then you may as well find a local loan shark of your own.

A blur of red movement caught your attention, and you blinked your eyes into focus on the bouquet of red roses in the arms of one Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin weaving his way through the crowd toward you. He was briefly waylaid by a couple he knew, pausing to speak to them, but his presence sharpened your focused. Reminded you that this was not Boston. This was not New Jersey.

You had left those places behind for a reason, to start a new life, one that did not involve carrying the debts of your father. You turned back to Luca’s face filled with anticipation and shook your head again.

“No. I don’t have it, nor will I be able to acquire it. You will have to look elsewhere, Luca.” You eyed him firmly.

“Kid. You know that there are consequences for not paying. Consequences for you, consequences for your father.” He said tensely, narrowing his eyes.

While his words filled you with fear, you clenched your teeth and shook your head a third time.

“I’m done.” You grit out.

“You!” He said sharply, his voice bouncing off the windows of the building behind you, turning a few heads, reminding him he was in public, and making him tense. “You will regret that, kid.” He hissed and stalked off.

You closed your eyes, narrowing in on your breathing once more.

Inhale…1…2…3…Exhale…1…2…3…Inhale…1…2…3…

The scent of Jake’s cologne flooded your senses and made your lips twitch in a smile, your eyes fluttering open.

“Hey there darlin’, sorry to keep you waiting. Everything all right?” He slid his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek gently.

“No problem, run into someone you know?” You smiled, sliding an arm around him in return, taking in his black bomber jacket over a simple black t-shirt, jeans and boots completing his outfit.

“Yeah, the former admiral whose party you played at. He’s going into politics just like I suspected. Who were you chatting with?” He looked in the direction Luca had headed curiously.

“And old friend of my father’s…” You muttered vaguely before reaching up to cup his cheek. “Jake?”

“Hmmm?” He looked to your eyes quickly.

With a warm smile, you turned to face him fully, leaning in to press your lips to his gently. His fingers curled into your waist, pulling you tighter as you felt him inhale sharply through his nose against your cheek. Tilting your head slightly, you pressed your mouth tighter to his, letting your hand drift from his cheek up into his hair, shivering as he hummed against you in delight.

Parting from his lips just enough to take a breath, you rested your forehead against his. Something about Luca’s words felt final…inevitable…and if that was to be, then well – well you wanted to be selfish for once.

“I’m sure you have something very lovely planned but…can we just go back to your place?” You murmured, lips brushing against his before you pulled back to look into his eyes.

He eyed you intensely, giving you one sharp nod.

“Absolutely, darlin’. Trade you?” He offered you the bouquet and you couldn’t help the fond smile.

“You know you didn’t have to…” You murmured, sliding the cello from your back and exchanging it for the flowers.

“Of course I didn’t have to, clearly I wanted to.” He eased the instrument onto his shoulder, sliding his arm around your waist once more and guiding you through the crowd toward the parking lot.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” You cradled them in your arms, mildly annoyed at the architect who designed this brand-new facility for placing the parking so very far away from the stage, feeling more than a little impatient to be alone with him.

“You are most welcome.” He replied, fingers stroking along the side of your top, accidentally slipping beneath the waistband of your chiffon pants. He glanced at you curiously. “That is a very deceptive outfit you’re wearing darlin’, I would have sworn it was another dress.”

You laughed brightly, feeling a bit of relief when you finally spotted his truck.

“Well you’ll know all of its secrets soon enough, Jake.” You licked your lips.

He set the cello in the back seat, taking the roses from you to set in the footwell carefully before closing the door. You reached for the passenger-side door but now that you were both unencumbered, he was suddenly pinning you against the side of his truck, kissing you hungrily in the semi-privacy of the parking lot. You arched against him, the dark metal of his vehicle hot in the late afternoon sun, gripping his sides as his hands framed your face.

His tongue licked at the seam of your lips, and you eagerly parted them, welcoming his tongue with yours as you felt his swelling arousal pressing into your hip. Gathering the fabric of his jacket in your grip, you whimpered softly as he savoured the taste of your mouth, setting your head swirling for all the right reasons. He shifted against you, pressing his thigh between your legs and gasping when it easily nestled against your core.

“Pants?” He uttered in surprise and your head fell back against the passenger-side window as you laughed breathlessly. He smirked and took advantaged of your exposed neck, kissing along the column of your throat as he contracted and relaxed the muscles of his thigh creating a delicious friction and making you bite your lip savagely in an attempt to keep quiet.

“Public, Jake…People…” You panted, eyebrows furrowing with the effort.

As if on queue, the sound of a giggling child drifted closer and he pulled back carefully, helping you straighten and boosting you into the front seat of the car once he got the door open.

“Let’s get you home then.” He pecked your lips quickly before jogging around to the driver’s side.

Though his phone indicated the drive should have taken nearly thirty minutes, Jake managed it in just over twenty, his hand resting on your leg the entire drive. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as his fingertips drew concentric circles on the inside of your thigh, pooling desire in your lower abdomen. He pulled into the garage, turning off the ignition and letting the automatic door close behind him as he turned to you. As he leaned across the console, your eyelids began to slide shut before you had a flash of realization. You quickly lifted your fingers to press against his soft lips, pulling back.

“Just…let me put these roses in water, you spent a lot of money on them…” You insisted weakly, watching with bated breath as he parted his lips to nibble at your fingertips, considering.

“I can give you five minutes….” He murmured, tongue swirling around the end of your index finger, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“F…five minutes…” You nodded in agreement and gulped as he pulled back to slide from the truck.

You fumbled with your seatbelt, finally getting the damn thing unbuckled before opening the door to slide from the vehicle. Jake was already retrieving your cello from the backseat, and you leaned in to grab the flowers, following him through the side door directly into the house. You lost ninety seconds taking in the wide-plank floors running through the modern space, drawing your eyes towards the accordion doors that opened onto a patio right on the waterfront.

He lived in a magazine. You were retrospectively mortified for every second he had spent in your shitty apartment until he cleared his throat behind you, hanging up his jacket and setting his boots by the front door before crossing his arms.

“Time’s ticking, darlin’…” He smirked wickedly and you lost another thirty seconds tracing every line of musculature that pose emphasized before his words sunk in.

You quickly toed off your shoes and let your bare feet propel you into his open concept kitchen, laying the bouquet on the white quartz countertop of the island as you frantically began opening cupboards in search of a vase, a jug, anything.

“One minute…” He murmured, stalking closer and you let out a huff of frustration, darting over to the island, plugging the sink and beginning to fill it with cool water.

You stretched out an arm, barely gripping the corner of the bouquet, dragging it closer and pulling at the brown paper ruthlessly as you tried to free the stems.

“Time’s up.” He breathed against your ear, body pressing tightly into your back as his lips dropped to your neck, leaving a wet trail down the skin of your throat as he turned off the tap.

Broad, heated palms slid up the curve of your waist, along your ribcage, to cup your breasts. You whimpered needily, arching into his touch. The warmth of his skin soaked through the fabric of your top, through your bra, pulling your nipples into hardened peaks as he kneaded the sensitive flesh. His hips pressed tighter to yours as he could feel your body reacting to him, pining you against the front of the sink as he nipped at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as your fingers continued to fight blindly with the wrapping on the bouquet.

He hummed in reply, sucking at the irritated skin soothingly as one hand skimmed down your abdomen, past the waistband of your pants. You felt him huff against your neck as, rather than your underwear, he felt the continuation of your top. Your bodysuit.

“Fucking hell…” He growled.

“Last surprise…I promise…” You panted, trying not to laugh, feeling the thrill of hope as the wrapping at last gave way and your fingers brushed against the woody stems of the roses, clipped free of thorns by a thoughtful florist.

Jake huffed and cupped between your thighs with his broad palm, wrenching a whine from your lips, making your fingers dig into silicone of seal between the sink and countertop as you tried not to keel over. You felt him chuckle in victory, grinding the heel of his hand against you as his fingers stretched and searched for the snaps holding the offending garment in place.

He slid a finger between the two snaps once he had finally located them, bending his knuckle and tugging until they yielded, the two ends unclasping and sliding up your body to at last allow him access to your underwear. He cupped the damp fabric, his chest rumbling in delight.

“Darlin’…you seem to be having a bit of a problem…” He commented as his fingers teased your folds through your underwear.

“A…are you gonna just talk about it…Jake?” You rolled your head along his shoulder to nip at the tanned skin of his neck. “Or are you gonna help a lady out?” You gulped, chest heaving as his other hand had yet to let up its alternating attention on your breasts.

You barely had time to sweep the bouquet into the sink, submerging the flower stems below the water before his fingers slid beneath your underwear, parting your folds. You rose up on your toes with a ragged moan as he brushed your sensitive bundle of nerves. Reaching your arms back to wrap around his neck, he easily bore your weight as his fingers gathered your slick as his thumb toyed with your clit. Your fingers carded through the short hair at the base of his skull as he slowly worked one, then two fingers into your welcoming heat, unable to contain your cries of pleasure and praise.

“You make music with your mouth, too, darlin’…” He rumbled huskily, his hips undulating into your back with the same rhythm of his fingers working you open, stroking your sensitive walls. The outline of his hard cock – the size of it – filled your mouth with saliva.

He dragged the now-loose fabric of your bodysuit higher along your body, freeing your breasts so that he might pinch and roll your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You clenched around his fingers tightly, knees wobbling as you were dangling on the precipice of release. It had been an embarrassingly long time since a man had pleasured you…and never had one been so efficient as Jake Seresin.

“P…please…Jake…” You beg, tugging at the ends of his hair, nails brushing against his scalp.

“I got you, darlin’.” He rasped and increased his pace, curling his fingers forward each time they were seated knuckle-deep inside you until he found that spongy spot that punched the air from your lungs and had you seeing stars. “There it is.” He muttered triumphantly and relentlessly worked it until your eyes rolled back in your head with a wail, knees giving out as your climax gushed over his hand.

You were vaguely aware of the fact that his free hand had slid around your waist to hold you up against him while he continued to stroke his fingers inside your wet heat, prolonging your pleasure until you reached down to grip his wrist gently in a silent plea to stop as you were growing overly sensitive. Dropping your arms before turning awkwardly on legs like a newborn fawn’s, you leaned up to kiss him deeply, clinging to his shoulders.

You watched, struck silent, as he lifted his glistening hand to lick it clean, the black of his pupils all but swallowing the green of his irises. You let out an involuntary whimper and glanced around.

“Bed?” You asked, not immediately seeing one.

“Upstairs.” He replied, hands grabbing the back of your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist before heading that way.

You gasped, quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I…can walk you don’t have to…” You protested weakly.

“No, you can’t, darlin’” He smirked proudly, and you huffed, smacking his shoulder playfully. “What? Just speaking the truth.”

Carrying you into the primary suite, he set you onto a comfortably firm mattress in the middle of the room. You guessed by the light flooding in behind you that there was an equally stunning view of San Diego Bay from this room, but your eyes were focused on the man in front of you. You rose up onto your knees and seized the hem of his black t-shirt, gently working it up and off his toned torso, swallowing thickly at the perfection of him. He took advantage of your stunned silence to slide the bodysuit up and off your torso, adding it to the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you tugged him down to crash his lips into yours, licking into his mouth, sighing as you could still taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers busied themselves with the clasps of your bra, freeing them before sliding the straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside. Hands splayed across your back, he pulled your chest flush against his, the smattering of coarse golden hair across his pectorals teasing your already sensitive nipples, making you whimper wantonly.

Your hands dove to work his belt and fly open, tugging his jeans down his hips before pushing them to the floor with a satisfying thunk. He began to work your pants down, off your hips, pulling back from your kiss to gently push you onto your back and pull them up and off your legs. He set your left ankle on his shoulder, gently kissing the inside it before looking down at you.

“Sure look pretty in my bed, darlin’…” He beamed before nipping and licking his way up your calf, pausing to suck the skin just above your knee between his teeth, leaving a mark. He reached for your underwear, working them off your hips and down your legs, holding them up to the light, assessing. “These will never be the same…” He grinned, quite pleased with himself.

You could not help but laugh, shaking your head.

“Better buy me new ones, then Jake…for every pair you ruin.” You bit your lip.

“That a promise, darlin’?” He licked his lips, bending your knees and gently pressing them open, blinking as they offered little resistance. He raised an eyebrow as he easily pinned your bent legs to the mattress, spreading your cunt wide open to his greedy eyes. “Flexible, aren’t ya?” He remarked, Texan drawl its thickest yet.

“Occupational hazard…” You murmured thickly, shivering a little at the brush of cool air from the ventilation system against your heated, sensitive skin. “Spent a lot of my life with my legs spread playing the cello.” You elaborated.

“Mmmm” He replied, clearly distracted, before bowing his head to lick a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming against you. “Fuck you taste good.” He groaned and buried his face against you, lapping at the remnants of your release before sealing his lips around your bundle of nerves, awakening a deep, hollow ache inside you.

Your fingers flew to his sandy-blonde hair, tangling in the strands as you bucked to his mouth eagerly.

“J…Jake…p.p.please I…” You arched and curled your toes, feeling so very empty. “I need you inside me…” You begged, trying to pull his head up towards you.

He surfaced, licking his lips, breathing heavily.

“Yeah?” He asked, fingers brushing along your cheekbone, and you nodded quickly.

“Please.” You looked to his eyes intently, arching up to kiss him firmly.

He pressed a few kisses along your jaw before sliding from the bed, making you raise up on your elbows, wanting to see what he was up to. He stepped over to the bedside table and fetched a condom before removing his boxers, revealing the length and girth of his cock as it stood proudly against his defined lower abdominal muscles. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you watched him tear open the foil packet and unroll the condom onto himself. You sat up fully and held your arms open to welcome him back as he crawled back across the bed towards you like some kind of predator.

Laying you back gently, he settled between your hips, gliding his cock through your folds to gather as much of your arousal as he could to ease his movements. The head of his length nudged your clit, and you pressed your face to his shoulder as it pulled a moan from your throat before he snagged on the entrance to your warmth. With a roll of his hips, he shifted forward to slowly sink into the silken heat of you. His face dropped to your collarbone, ragged breaths brushing against your skin as he managed to keep the motion steady and measured, pausing as his pelvis met yours to give each of you a moment to adjust.

You took small sips of air, feeling so utterly filled by him that you could hardly manage anything more than that. You squirmed against him a little, overcome with the need to move, and he shuddered, lifting his eyes to meet yours before rocking his hips forward against you.

“Ah! Jake!” You exclaimed, fingertips digging into his forearms as he began to thrust in earnest.

Your legs quickly snaked around his hips, pelvis chasing his, hardly able to stand his absence when he pulled out but very much in need of the friction to drive you higher. He planted one hand beside your head, bending down to sucking at your right nipple as his other hand sought your clit, determined to draw another orgasm from you.

“Oh fuck, Jake…” You hissed, nails digging into his one forearm, your other hand wrenching at the duvet, desperately seeking something else to hold on to as his arm moved out of reach. Your thighs started to tremble around him, and he grunted, skin slapping against yours as he thrust demandingly.

“Gonna cum for me, darlin’?” He groaned and you nodded rapidly, eyes clenched shut. “Atta girl” He praised you, rocking tightly, calloused thumb circling your clit insistently until you gave a harsh shout.

Your body arched sharply against him as your climax seized your muscles, clenching tightly around his cock, making him swear thickly as his thrusts grew erratic and frantic. He came with an agonized moan, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as his hips rocked forward to wring every drop of release into the condom. Sliding from your body carefully, he rolled to the side, chest heaving with the aftereffects of his orgasms. You forced yourself onto your side and gently reached down to help rid him of the condom, throwing it in the trash can beside the bed.

He pulled you down for a lazy kiss, fingers tracing abstract shapes on your damp skin.

“That was a far better way to spend the afternoon that anything I could have planned, darlin’…” He murmured and you grinned.

“I couldn’t agree more, Jake.” You kissed him warmly, grabbing the throw blanket that had fallen to the floor and covering your rapidly cooling bodies to snuggle in, laid diagonally across his bed.

Read Part Four

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Credit: Glen Powell's Instagram

[gollldrush]

@cursedvessels for daianira.

Leo is escorted through the property by Demetrius and one of his other lackies. This time, she had been allowed to wear something a little more casual. A baggy shirt, jeans that fit a bit more loosely. However, this doesn't save her from the Ringmaster’s commentary that leaves her looking a little pale.

Outside of Shimi’s tent she pretends to drop something, taking her sweet time to bend down and gather a few papers off the ground. An elongated look inside, just hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it reveals nothing. A hard frown, she stands, brushing her hair back behind her ears to continue the accompanied march to the ‘Mermaid’ tank.

As with everything else, Leo believes this is another mind trick. Mermaids, genies, whatever other claims to fame Demetrius swore to have were just smoke and mirrors. Parlor tricks that dazzled you while the components that made them possible somehow just blended into their backgrounds. It was convincing enough that everyone in the world seemed to be buying it. How else would he have become the richest man alive overnight?

Surprisingly, once they get to their destination, Demetrius leaves her alone. Unexpected, but, since this person was bound to the water, she couldn’t really run away with them.

The closer Leo gets to the tank, the wider her eyes grow. The tail looks so real on this person that for a moment she believes it might actually be real. So stunned by the (assumed) prosthetic that she doesn't notice the lack of an oxygen mask.

"Hello?" She calls softly, wearing a smile. She holds up her sketchbook and charcoal. "Would you mind if I drew you?"

[asoulsreverie]

While discussing the 3.7 livestream Fontaine leaks with my sister, some inspiration struck me and I said: sirens. The mermaid kind.

I mean we will have a swimming mechanism which I think will be similar to the sheer cold accumulation- maybe the traveller gets a device like an oxygen tank and we have to fill it up with air bubbles at some centres- like how we have to stand near fire to clear the sheer cold effect in Dragonspine.

There will be a stamina bar for speed, but we can't drown.

Back to the siren thing, the theory is this. The game has like the female enemies with slightly concerning voice lines, right? Mondstadt and Liyue released cicin mages, Inazuma brought out Mirror maidens and in Sumeru we have the eremite ring dancers.

So for Fontaine, maybe these enemies will be scattered in the underwater region?

Mélusine (French: [melyzin]) or Melusina is a figure of European folklore, a female spirit of fresh water in a holy well or river. She is usually depicted as a woman who is a serpent or fish from the waist down (much like a lamia or a mermaid). She is also sometimes illustrated with wings, two tails, or both (Wikipedia)

So in Greek mythology (and I know Fontaine is based on France, this is just a theory) Sirens basically draw people to their deaths by their singing.

Now we know that the above mentioned enemies have a phase where they're much stronger (cicin mages electrocute you, mirror maidens let the power of their majesty flow through them and the eremite dancers can summon monsters)

Imagine these 'sirens' have a phase where they sing, and instead of drawing the player in, they reduce the DEF of the character, or reduce elemental resistance? I think it'd be very cool.

Also another thing I'd like to add is that I believe the swimmable area might not be all around Fontaine, but only a smaller region (like dragonspine, the chasm, the 3.6 desert region with sorush) and maybe some lore about a sunken city or something

That's it for today cause I have a physics quiz and I should be studying, so bye!

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

(thought about this. made something)

aziraphale is the thing you need but cant catch. humans thought he didn't exist, didn't know he was there until they went poking around, but he's been here the whole time. he is the gentle breeze tickling your neck on a cold day, the force keeping you on this earth and said earth from spiraling, the gales from the mountaintops and the hand who delivered the apple from newton's tree (only for knowledge, only for them, for Good, only for Good). you need to keep him, you need the air to stay clean so your children can breathe without oxygen tanks and respirators, but without even knowing he's been pulled down, down, down to you. polluted by the factories, life, and retrograde. it's slow damage. will he ever go too far? will he ever let the earth fall? no. it's never been considered. (not if he can help it.) whatever damage he has to take, it's worth it. the humans just have to keep living, and he will have succeeded. it would be fixed. they would fix it. (that's all there is to it, really.)

crowley is the thing you need but you can't keep right. the one you can see, the one you can't see without, and there needn't be a discovery to find him. (he already knows. he just needed to ask the right questions.) he is the ocean's current, the flickering bulb hung in your parents' basement, the needles in the sky and the sweat running down your back. you see him, you bask in him, but you can't keep him. the sun is always meant to fall in the distance, even on the longest of summer days. it can't follow you forever, it wants to follow you forever, but your figure is shouded in shadow and that is the one place it cannot touch. when you're sitting there, brooding in a moonless night that you wrought (you couldn't help it, you had to ask him), you long for the morning. you can't stop and neither can he, but you can't take him for granted until it's gone. you always did, though. not meant, never meant, but there you are.

can you imagine a world without rain? without wine? wood? clouds? words? no, not at all. preposterous, that is, there's never been an earth without the pair of you, never been a chance to learn. the world is you, and the world is him. you can't imagine a place without him--there would be no sight. he can see a life without you (he can't help it) but it is dreary, empty and weightless.

you would expect the rays to follow you, yeah? when you head up to the attic to read, or trudge down to the london underground for a ride, you would think that the warmth would spread. set in your bones, like a stubborn chill. you brace for it, looking for the nearest window Above or Below--but it is just out of reach. silly, you think, to expect the light to defy it's power just for you. it's done it before, mirrors and smoke, but not today. you left, and it remained.

and that's the problem. there is only sulfur in hell, and there are no windows in heaven. you can't ask the sun to rise--he will come when he is ready. he is that sun, and you are the core of the earth. he threatens to get close, step far out of line, but you fall back and continue your dangerous orbit knowing damned well what would happen if you deviate. it's worth the risk--you can't comprehend a life any other way.

you watch, from afar.

you bask, at a distance.

you duel, with invisible swords and imaginary flintlocks.

and you will dance, fingers threatening to lock and millions of miles set in between.

---

(this has no substance and no rereads. but my feelings are out so it's okay)

[antidesignerdogs]

Why French Bulldogs (and Their Owners) Are the Worst: A Rant

"So not only are overall health, quality of life, and mobility sacrificed to get these modern marvels distinctive enough to flatter the owner’s self-image and impress passersby, so is the ability to behave as real dogs. Deduct right off the top the many weeks or months the French and English bulls that I, personally, have known to spend in ICU isolation attached to oxygen tanks for pneumonia. Add the very common multiple surgeries to correct their show-standard mouths, noses, eyes, skin, legs, and spines. Then add the recovery time, assuming there will be full recovery in immunocompromised breeds prone to infections, and not much is left for getting to know other dogs and learning basic social skills. Disabled pets may help improve their owners’ social chances, but they’re dealt a bum hand for dealing with their own kind. Poor performance in puppy mixer groups is par for the course."

"Assuming Frenchies survive puppyhood — and the owners don’t dump them — they’ll never be able to use normal body language to communicate with other dogs because their bodies are so warped. “Correct” appearance as per their breed standard may say something about the owners’ financial condition and discriminating taste, but those weird alien eyes, the frozen glare and exposed teeth, the endless coughing, wheezing, and cartoon gurgling that fans find so cute and entertaining, give other dogs they pass on sidewalks good reason to be alarmed and on their guard. Nature’s basic repertoire of expressions and vocalizations has been perverted by human meddling, and if the owners aren’t smart enough to know the gene pool is being threatened by these weak and tragic specimens, other dogs are. Humped backs distort posture and intent. Dwarfed legs prevent play bowing and invite aggression. Short curly tails can’t wag or warn to signal as they should. Deliberate mutations multiply misunderstandings and explain the constant brawls Frenchies are famous for getting into at the local dog park, even amongst each other because they’re startled by what they see in the mirror."

[nick-thecreator]

Different Pixar Cars characters BNHA Quirks (Human AU)

Lightning McQueen: Basic Speed, exactly how it sounds, he can travel at bullet esc speeds. However, this can lead the leg burns from the friction created by his legs rubbing together for around 5-6 of running while also irritating his face with the high winds after a few minutes. He also has a lack of quick specific movements, like fingers, forearms, and neck, while naturally being better with his legs. His suit, a seemingly basic bodysuit with a light full-head helmet, is made to stop the face irritation, and also reducing the amount of heat caused by friction for around an hour, up to 2 ½ hours before major injury. His lack of quick specific movement needs to be honed via training.

Doc (Jesse) Hudson: Incredibly high dexterity, closely honed over the years. This does also include speed, but not as fast as LMQ. However, he makes up for this in having much faster, more specific movements. He has the capability to not only block attacks with an equal amount of force but can also launch the attack right back at them with extra force on top of his basic defense. However, this requires him to be more perceptive, while also having to deal with the same friction issues as LMQ if he does the same quick movements repeatedly. LMQ’s suit is built similar to Docs, Docs being a bodysuit with fixed gloves and a full-head helmet to help with his friction issues. 

Tow (Tommy) Mater: Metal hands connected to 60ft chains “held” within his arms, also coming with major strength. His metallic hands can detach from his metal-covered wrists and halfway-up his forearms, staying connected via chains that can extend up to 60ft. Along with his strength, he can drag/lift incredibly large/heavy objects or can swing them at their full length, acting great as an offensive fighter. However, if strained too much, held out too long, or the chains/hands are taken off/destroyed, what is left of the chains will return into his body to regenerates his hands. This regeneration process can take up to a week depending on how much of the chain is left connected to him. His suit’s boots are built to both hold him in place with traction claws while also giving him retractable roller blades to help with his mobility cause of how much the chains can weigh. His suit comes with a hat that has two mirrors connected to it and has a small chain that wraps around his neck to stabilize them, allowing him to look behind him without having to turn around. 

Sally Carrera: Can generate and launch cones of any size from a pin top to a large truck. The more she does this, however, the more exhausted she becomes, to the point where she may pass out. Her suit comes with a pair of discreet roller blades tucked within her work shoes, while her outfit appears to be a basic business suit but is mostly built to defend her from basic attacks.

Chick Hicks: Selective Indestructability, where he can select parts of his body to be completely indestructible to all forces. The more of his body he makes indestructible, the less time he can keep himself in the state, from up to three days for just his hand to only half an hour for his whole body. His eyes, nasal cavity, and the inside of his mouth don’t have this capability. Also, because of his quirk, the places his makes indestructible become incredibly sensitive over time when not under effect. His suit is built to be similarly as strong as himself, while also having a full-face mask, which both protects his face from both gases, fire, and most blunt objects, while also allowing him to use it for working underwater, having an oxygen tank hookup that has up to 4 hours of air. His mask also has small air holes, so he doesn’t have to fully rely on the tank, that can close when needed. 

Ramone: Can change the color/pattern of any object he touches, but whenever he uses it, something on his body will lose its color. He can get around this negative by holding something while turning something else a different color/pattern. His suit reflects that, being stylized while also containing a lot of working pieces, counting as individual objects, allowing him around 200 attempts.

Strip Weathers: Can control the weather around him within a 100ft radius, from calm, sunny skies, specific gusts of winds honed over time, to a full-on hurricane. The drawback? He’s not immune to the effects of whatever he summons. His suit is built to handle most types of weather, being waterproof and wind-resistant, accompanied with a pair of boots with traction claws and snowshoe extensions within the sole. He is also equipped with a backpack, holding different tools and supplies needed to handle different natural disasters (Lifeboat, Shovel, Fire Starter, Etc.).

Miles Axlerod: Can manipulate crude oil, including anything containing crude oil, within a 500ft radius. He can use this as an easier way to move (I’ve always headcanoned Human AU Miles as having Spastic Diplegia Cerebral Palsy), a way to blind opponents, and as a projectile. His quirk can work on solid objects containing crude oil, but it takes a lot more focus. Also, if he takes too much damage, he can lose control of his quirk. He doesn’t possess a suit, preferring to use his regular outfit with a bit more water-resistance (even though he doesn’t really need it) to keep his quirk under wraps. 

Grem Gremlin: PuckShot, a quirk allowing him to hit a hockey puck with the speed of a bullet, with the capability to tear through 4ft of steel. To be able to reach top velocity, he needs to be able to get a full swing. Anything smaller will give a decent hit, but not as strong. Besides wielding a hockey stick and a bag full of pucks, he doesn’t have a hero suit. 

This is what I’ve got for now, and I’ll probably be posting more of these as I get more ideas. Feel free to request others Cars characters cause why not lmao-

[tv-girllover07]

Dead phone 📱

Craig Poole x fem!reader

Movie: Mr. Harrigan’s phone

A/n: so I would just like to say even though Craig and the reader have kissed like multiple times I haven’t really said that there together but they are gf/bf and there the cutest couple ever like omg

Part 6

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭

The next day after having the talk with Craig about Mr. Harrigan was off it felt like something bad happened. Craig and I walked to Mr. Harrigan’s house but today was Tuesday and Edna and Pete weren’t there but I still showed up just to see if there was any cleaning to do while Craig read to Mr. Harrigan,

Craig rang the doorbell but nobody answered but figures since nobody but Mr. Harrigan was home so then Craig starts humming then opens the door and when Craig and I walk down the hallway you could hear the door hinges creak and the door finally shut once were in the the middle of the hallway and I grab Craig hand and stop “Hey I’m gonna go into the kitchen and make us some tea then I’ll come see you and Mr. Harrigan, in the study alright?” I said “Alright” he smile and I kiss him on the cheek.

(Craig’s POV)

After y/n goes into the kitchen I continue walking down the hallway and towards the study hearing my footsteps beside me and as I got closer to the room I can hear the oxygen tank hissing and I stop at the entrance of the study “Mr. Harrigan?” I walk closer and lay my bag on the floor and touch his shoulder to see if he’ll move then as I touch his shoulder I hear my phone go off and his saying Mr. Harrigan is calling me but I see in his hand he has his phone with my contact at the ready

so I end the call and grab his phone from his cold, stiff hand and put in my jacket pocket and as the oxygen tank keeps hissing I can feel the panic rising in my chest and I start shaking his shoulder again “Mr. Harrigan?… Mr. Harrigan” nothing…no reply just nothing but the coldness in the room and the sound of the oxygen tank “Mr. Harrigan? Sir?” I put to fingers on his neck to feel anything… but then again there was nothing. I was in a dead man and what if he reached out and grabbed me? Of course he wouldn’t do that, he liked me, but I remember the look in his eyes when we had the conversation yesterday. 

I rush over to the table and grab a mirror and put it under his nose to see if there’s any breathing, no warm breath misted it. Nothing I back away and my breaths quicken “Y/N!” I yell as loud as I could, I could hear the the fast sounding movement coming down the hallway

Then hearing her stop and the door to hear her gasp as a hand flew to her mouth and in that moment I knew it was real and I wasn’t just seeing things “Oh my god, Craig what happened?” She asked in shock “I don’t know I walked in and he wasn’t breathing, y/n he wasn’t breathing” I said feeling my voice crack and my eye start to tear up she pulls me away from Mr. Harrigan so I don’t have to see his body any more from what I already saw.

“Craig call your dad, talk to him and we’ll figure this out okay but I need you to take some deep breaths and to calm down, okay?” She asked “Okay” I pulled out my phone and called my dad “Craig?” He said and I feel like I can’t talk “It’s Mr. Harrigan I think…I think he’s dead, he’s not breathing. I think he’s…” my dad stops me “Where’s the housekeepers?” He asked

“it’s Tuesday. They’re… they’re not here” I look at y/n and she mouths “keep breathing, stay calm” and she grabs my hand giving it a squeeze “Okay listen to me. Uh, is y/n with you?” He said trying to stay calm as well “Mm hm” I clarify “Alright you two just wait there, go head and wait outside and I’ll call an ambulance, okay?” And I hang up the phone and y/n and I start to walk backwards towards the study entrance but I stop

“Craig, baby what are you doing?” She asked in a gentle voice trying to calm me down and not to worry I always liked when she used that voice it was calm and gentle like hearing soft rain hit the ground and the smell of warm, fresh baked cookies out of the oven

“I want to read to him one last time” I said and turn to grab two chairs

“Okay” and as we sat down the room didn’t feel the same anymore it felt empty and lifeless and cold like there was no meaning to this room then once I started to read it felt like the walls were closing in

“It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, and it was the age of foolishness.” I as I try to continue on y/n and I both start to sob y/n puts her hand on her mouth to silence her cries as I continue to read “It was the epoch of belief. It was the epoch of incredulity. It was the season of Light. It was the season of Darkness. It was the spring of hope, and it was the winter of despair. We had everything before us, and we had nothing before us. We were all going direct to heaven, and we were all going direct, the other way” I stopped reading “That was beautiful, Craig” y/n whispered in a monotone voice.

After dad picked both y/n and I up from Mr. Harrigans house we didn’t do anything we sat on the couch with blank expressions and didn’t do anything, dad tried to get us to talk and to say what happened but we couldn’t there wasn’t much to really say, Y/n doesn’t really stay at her house anymore she really just says here. She has clothes in my closet, some in my dresser and other little things around my room, not that it bothered me it was nice I liked the feeling of someone else being with me, dad doesn’t mind he like having the company of someone else other than our self’s. After sitting on the couch for what it felt like an eternity I finally spoke “Y/n, I’m going to bed you come with?” I asked feeling dead and tired “Yeah, let’s go love” and I placed my hand on the small of her back as we walk up stairs “Goodnight guys” Dad said softly as we walk upstairs and into my room, I shut the door we walk over to the bed and plug our phones in.

(Y/n’s POV)

Once we plug our phones in to let them charge I go over to the dresser and grabs our pjs as Craig sitting in the bed taking off his shoes and spreads his legs and I walk over to him and stand in between them he hugs my waist, leaning his head on my stomach.

My hands play with his hair and after what it felt like hours and hours of standing there in a comfortable silence I pull away and lean down and put my hand of his cheek and the other on his neck and wipe away the tear that fell down his cheek I kiss him softly on the lips, he sighs in the kiss and puts his hand on my waist and I pull away then give him one last kiss on the forehead “I love you y/n”

I freeze but then I smile “I love you too Craig so much, more than you could ever know”

We sit on the bed with him then when Craig takes his jacket off a phone falls out of it and he tuts “Shit” and pulls the phone out then pulls his phone off his charger and texts Mr. Harrigan even though he’ll never see the message.

We could hear Mr. Harrigans phone get the message “What did you say?” I asked him as he places his phone back on the charger “I said I’ll miss our afternoons together” he sighed softly

I sighed as well and rest my head on his shoulder and place my hand on his thigh and rub it softly “Okay come on, time for bed we need to get our pjs on though” I get up and hand him his pjs which is just a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.

I turn around and I start to take off my pants and underwear and put on new underwear and I could hear Craig change as well then footsteps walking forwards me, I feel his hands on my waist pulling my shirt up and takes it fully off then he helps me take off my bra and hands me one of my his shirts and I put it on then he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me into a hug and kissing my neck.

“I really do love you y/n” he whispered “I really do love you too Craig” and I turn around to give him a proper hug then there’s a knock on the door

“Yeah?” Craig said and the door opens and it’s his dad we turn our hands while still in the hug, I then move behind Craig a little just to cover my bare legs

“Hey I just wanted to say good night and um I got a call, Mr. Harrigans funeral is next Saturday and the Pastor and I think it would be nice if you spoke at his funeral since you were the closet with him” Mr. Poole said trying not to upset us any further

“I think that would really nice Craig, what do you think?” I asked him really likening the idea “I think that would be good” he said sadly, nodding his head “Alright I’ll call the Pastor tomorrow and let him know”

“Okay night dad” “Night you guys” his dad said and left the room closing the door.

Part 7

[starry-blue-echoes]

Standtaro: The growth of the oxygen tank is subtle.

-👾

Yessssssss

It’s a slow process. A slight bulge on his back growing from out of his jacket, that’s how it starts. Small, inconsequential lumps that don’t even weigh anything. Only every day it grows and grows and grows, getting larger and more detailed and more prominent as it does

Jotaro isn’t even the one to notice it. How could he have. After all, his Standness has gotten to the point that he needs to focus in order to touch Non-Stand things, and how can you focus a part of your body you don’t even realize you have

One of the Morioh Users eventually point it out. Be it Josuke, Okuyasu, Koichi, Yukako, Rohan, any of the other tens of Stand Users, all it takes was just one to point it out

But ignorance is bliss and knowledge is a curse unforgettable and unforgiving

and now whenever Jotaro sees himself, he can’t help but pick out the small details. How his skin looks so grey now. How is hat hides his face like a mask. How he's always neutral and expressionless. How he walks through stopped time without anyone knowing any better.

How easy it would be to hurt anyone without them being able to do a thing to stop him

Jotaro stops looking in mirrors for a long time after that

[frogintheforesttub]

When time flies, I’ll be there with you

The Big Day

Hey, are you ready?” Jen asked in the back of the room as I walked out of the changing room. 

“I still can’t believe it. It feels like a dream,”  I answered, holding up my white wedding dress. 

The sound of high heels clicked on the marble floor. The room is bright, everything is white, and decorated with white balloons along the walls. 

A stack of presents was placed on the couch, and makeup filled the vanity in the middle of the room. I walked to the mirror and looked at myself, admiring and proud, but a sense of sadness also flashed in my heart.

“You look gorgeous,” my mother, Lucia, walked into the room. She wore a sleek pink dress, displaying her well-maintained body shape. Although  Lucia is already 70 years old, the wave of her body still showed clearly through the linen of her dress. “Your father would be proud.”

Lucia walked across the room and held my face in her hands. She looked at her eyes while she examined my face. 

“Is father ok?” I asked, scared that there was anything wrong. 

“Don’t worry about it, it is your big day, we will all make sure he is okay” Lucia said as she let go of my face and looked at herself in the mirror. 

I closed my eyes and let go a deep breath. Lucia was right, I need to focus on today, there is no turning back or doing this one more time. I raised my arm for my mother to hold on and Jen helped me manage my dress at the back. 

I walked in the middle of the courtyard, around me sat my family, friends, and even strangers that I had never seen before. The sun shines on the arc at the end of the walkway, perfectly reflecting the side profile of the man at the end. 

My father stood on the side of my soon-to-be husband, he trembled as he put his weight on the crutch, my brother beside him making sure he wouldn’t fall in the middle of the ceremony. 

My heart pounded against my chest, everything around me seemed to blur out, it felt as if me and the man in front were the only ones in this world. Soft music played in the background, the sun caressed my skin. This moment I felt like I was levitating instead of really standing in this world.

“Are you ready?” Lucia asked and I gave her a nod of reassurance. She handed me to my father, who tried his best to move without the help of the crutch. 

I held his hand tightly in my hands, I could feel every single bone that formed his hand, there was not warmth, so I tried giving him some. 

My father walked me to George, my soon-to-be husband, and handed me to him. At that moment, I could actually feel him leaving me for the first time, not even when I left home for school or work. Something in my heart was sucked out, as if something was missing. I knew this was a big day for me, but still couldn’t help but tear up. 

This was the last time I saw my father standing. 

Linked 

“This is not looking good,” the doctor said as he examined the CT scan of my father’s lung. My heart dropped to the ground. 

Lucia and my father were sitting together in front of the doctor while I stood behind them. The doctor examined the scan on his computer carefully, signing from time to time. No one dared to let any air out in the room, all I could hear was the doctor’s breath. 

“What do you mean not good? We have money, we could do anything to find a cure,” I said desperately. There had to be something we could do, there had to be. 

“Would you please go out and I can talk to Mrs. Summers first, Mr. Jiang?” The doctor asked.

Lucia then pushed my father out of the room, leaving me and the doctor alone. The doctor took a peek at the door, making sure it was closed and they were gone. Unease filled my heart, and it started to beat with panic. 

“There is no cure in the medical field for your father at this point. All we could do is help extend his life slightly by giving him an oxygen tank and other medications, but that would still lead to the same result,” the doctor said, he looked at me with slight worry, but still put on his professional face.   

“How long could he live?” I asked, picking my fingers under the table while trying to stay brave. 

“The best case scenario is half a year, nothing more.” 

“I guess that’s better than not living for another month,” I tried to make a joke about it, but it was a lie.

Half a year. These three words struck me like lightning, I bit my lips and looked up to the ceiling, water filled my eyes, but I didn’t let it fall. 

Silence once again filled the room. I knew the doctor was giving me time to take in the information, but could I be really taking in this news at all? I didn’t know what to say to my parents, how could I possibly tell my father that he is going to die? 

We sat there for almost 10 minutes, I didn’t allow myself to cry because I knew my parents needed me stronger than ever right now, I can’t let them worry about me when they were the ones I was worried about. 

When I was ready, I opened the door and asked my parents to come into the room, I forced myself to look as if I was okay, but by looking at their worried faces, I knew I failed. 

My parents sat quietly on the seat, they didn’t look as worried about themselves than when they saw me just now. 

“Mr. Jiang, I am sorry to inform you that there isn’t much time left for you, all I could do is give you some treatments and meds that could extend your life longer, but there is no longer a cure in your situation,” the doctor said.

I looked at my parents' faces in disbelief or panic, but there wasn’t any. Instead they looked calm, calmer than ever. They turned their heads and looked towards me with worry, as if this affected me directly and not them. I looked away cause I knew looking at their face would mean breaking down with me right now.

“Please do whatever that could extend my time with my daughter,” my father said without looking back to the doctor.

That was the last time I saw my father without tubes and oxygen tanks hanging on him.

The last day

Three hours, we only have three hours left. 

We are on the taxi on the way to the airport. I held my father’s arm tightly, scared to let go, scared to lose feelings of how his hands felt in mine. 

My father looked at me with reluctance, I returned the same look during the ride. The trip was silent, there seemed to be no words needed to be said between us, even though I wanted to say many things to him. 

The taxi arrived at the airport just two hours before the actual flight. I wished we had more time, but time was not something we could have wished for. 

The flight my father was going to take will bring him to Switzerland. He would love it there, this is the best choice we have in this situation. My father was 80 years old, time had left its presence on his face. His body and face was now skin to bone, and needed a wheelchair to be able to travel. Although tired, he still gave me his biggest smile. 

(Photo by 

“You can do this,” My father said, holding up my hand as I knelt to talk to him after finishing up with the check-in. 

“I really wish I could come with you. It’s going to be difficult,” I said, tears dropping from my face uncontrollably. 

“It’s okay, I am always here with you. You know that, I won’t be leaving you,” he let go of my hand and laid comfortably on his wheelchair. 

The attendant I hired to go with him stood beside him, ready to bring him into the security. I would have gone with him if I could have left my job, but I couldn’t. I knew this would be the thing that I regretted the most in my life.

Living for him was like hell, he had to carry an oxygen tank wherever he went, tubes were stuck in his nose for what seemed like forever. I thought having to spend more time with him was better for both of us, but instead it was hurting him. Switzerland was known for euthanasia, this would be the best decision for my father, I did not want him to suffer anymore. 

“Chelsy, this is what I want you to know last. You are stronger than you think, even stronger than me. I could see that since the day I saw your eyes, they are with determination. Whenever you miss me, look at the sky, I will be there looking at you. There is nothing to be afraid of darling, only yourself. Be afraid of how strong you could become,” he said, his eye lids couldn’t help but drop a little. 

My heart was clenched, if there was something I could do, I wished I could share his pain. He was the only family left of me. I closed my eyes slightly, took a deep breath, and tried to force my tears back to myself. I wanted the last look of me by my father the best as possible, I wanted him to know I will be fine, that he doesn’t have to worry about me anymore in the last time in his life. 

I gave him a last hug and looked at the back of my father as they approached the security, his warmth still lingered in my arms, I took some time to make sure I would remember this feeling. This is the last time I saw my father, but I know we will see each other soon.