#you know the thing where some people fill the base with one solid grey to make adding base color easier since it wont bleed out of border?

[licollisa]

If you have trouble drawing clothing folds, wrap a tissue around your finger and bend it at the angle and position you want it to

[its-time-to-write]

hi i love your work.

can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy

you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.

I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂

sinking into your worn out mattress

It’s the same routine every day.

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.

You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.

You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.

You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 

“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”

She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 

But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.

—

It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  

It’s stressing you out.

How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?

Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 

“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”

You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”

That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.

She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”

Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.

—

Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.

“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”

Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”

At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.

“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 

You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.

“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”

You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.

“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.

“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”

Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”

She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 

The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 

“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”

Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”

You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”

She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.

“Probably since before I moved,” you say.

“And when was the last time you saw your family?”

You begin to see where she’s going.

“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”

Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”

“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”

Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”

It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”

“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”

You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”

—

Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 

You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 

You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 

You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 

“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”

It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.

“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”

Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.

“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”

“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.

She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.

“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”

Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”

You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.

“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.

“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”

“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.

“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 

Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”

You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.

“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”

Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”

That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.

—

It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.

Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.

But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 

Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.

And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.

—

You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 

You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.

You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 

“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”

You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.

“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”

You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.

Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.

“Mint,” he says.

—

“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.

“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.

“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”

What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.

“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 

“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”

“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 

“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”

You say thanks and hang up. 

Oh.

—

You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 

There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.

“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.

“How’d you know where I live?”

Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

“And why are you here?”

You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.

He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”

You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”

His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.

“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”

You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 

You can feel his breath when he pulls away.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”

“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.

—

You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.

“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”

You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.

Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.

You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.

Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.

—

“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 

You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 

“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”

Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”

You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 

You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 

“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 

You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.

—

It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 

You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.

It’s Jamie.

The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 

“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”

He can feel tears on his neck.

“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”

You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.

Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 

“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.

You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.

“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.

“Are you dyin’?” he asks.

“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.

“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”

“Mental,” you agree.

Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 

He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.

You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”

Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”

“No you don’t,” you say.

“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”

You’re at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”

[oneatlatime]

The Swamp

Random thing I spotted in the opening credits: this Roku (?) silhouette is doing a spinning blade move with airbending, that Azula did with her blue fire while riding the mail system in Return to Omashu. I guess that despite the bending styles being based on different martial arts, borrowing is allowed.

A snippet of blue spirit music plays when that cart carrying the masks passes by. Maybe one second of showtime but the writers and track team put in the effort anyway.

I'm still mad at Zuko for stealing that lady's bird horse, but I'm happy to see that they're looking after it. It even has a blanky.

Those bangs would have done numbers in 2008.

So I'm wishing death on sword guy. Apart from the whole trying to cut off Iroh's feet thing, he can't even do up his shirt right. Zero redeeming features.

I wish I knew how to make gifs to show this, but the way that the diffused lightsource is reflecting off the water peaking through the vegetation of the swamp is incredibly realistic.

Is the sharpening stone the one that usually sits in the indent on the other side of the blade? It would be pretty cool to have a knife with a built in sharpener like that.

Sokka's got a point. How do you "land" on a swamp? Appa will need to break out his sea bison skills.

TIL swamps don't take no for an answer.

HOW are they still ALIVE?!?!

AcTuAlLy Aang it's "where ARE Appa and Momo?"

As someone who has literally had leeches on my elbow, this is not funny.

Also this episode's beat up Sokka quota has already been filled by a tornado, a swamp, and a vampire slug. And we're only 4 minutes in. I feel like this is going to be a rough episode for him.

Look I get that there is no solid land in this swamp, but they could at least move out of the fetid leech-infested water onto a tree root.

Shibari Appa. I ahd to google that.

Momo is a good friend.

Could you imagine what Apppa smells like after landing in the swamp water?

Poor Momo's like "dude. I JUST freed you."

Not everyone can airbend Aang. Some of us would have no option but to cut our way out of the swamp, niceness be damned.

You ever just go FWOMP?

I'm loving these little Appa & Momo scenes.

Did this episode air on Halloween originally? It's really leaning in to the spooky.

And now Appa gets to be a good friend. I love the ear twitch. Have I talked about how cute Appa's ears are?

King of the jungle Appa.

New fear unlocked. Never swimming in seaweed again.

Also kudos to them for sleeping sitting up. I can't do that.

It's neat how all three of their fighting styles are equally effective at freeing them from the vines. No bending superiority here!

How did Cletus and Brandine figure that Appa has six legs from this trail?

No comment. Just thought you'd all appreciate a picture of bowl cut Appa using an alligator as a toothbrush.

Pretty. Swamp wisteria.

This swamp is a dick.

This jumpscare got me. Also, swamp is now a double dick.

And Aang sees some rando. I was expecting Gyatso. Maybe being the avatar makes you immune to swamp dickishness?

If Cletus saw a lemoo at a travelling show once, does that mean that Momo is not the last of his species? Because I've been worrying about that.

This is a pretty cool use of waterbending. Although I don't think 'outboard motor with high manoeuvrability' is a recognised martial arts move.

All the background art in this episode is subtle but very detailed. Another episode I'll be watching on a better quality screen than my little laptop, which makes everything into a green-grey blur.

Sokka was looking for his friends. Katara was looking for her friends. Aang was chasing tail.

Tea party Sokka rocking a midi skirt and thigh high leather boots.

Have to give it to Sokka; they have all been huffing a lot of swamp gas recently. Hallucinating people you think of often after huffing god knows what is a more believable explanation than sentient, dickish swamp. Or it would be, if this wasn't a world where things like the avatar exist.

Looks like I was right about this being a beat up Sokka episode. The number of times swampy has thrown him to the ground, I'm surprised he's still getting up. Also, I think Sokka's voice actor was paid by the scream this episode.

Anyone remember the Absorbaloth?

Are these guys narrating NYOOM noises?

I have to commend the manoeuvrability of these boats.

Not to self: do not piss off a waterbender. They are human deli slicers.

"He's the Avatar. Stuff like that happens to us, a lot." Season 1 in a nutshell.

I applaud this guy's efficiency for styling his hair into a hat.

You guys are really going to go with this guy to a secondary location like 15 seconds after he stopped trying to kill you? Every so often I forget that the Gaang are teens or younger, then something comes along that really reminds me.

Nitpick! Are his socks made out of mud?

This guy has grey eyes like Aang does 50% of the time. I swear Aang has brown eyes in at least half the episodes so far.

More delicious reflections. I wish I could gif this too.

I love the lesson here. The swamp guy's speech about interconnectedness is good, made twice as good by the delivery. Excellent choice of voice actor. Also the bit about the people we've lost still being there hits hard.

A power this useful had better come up again.

Can someone who knows music better than I do tell me if Cletus is on beat? I think not.

New reaction shot!

Why does Sokka repeat "Hugh" so skeptically? What's the joke here?

"He don't eat no bugs. That's people food." This is the kind of stuff I love the most in this show. These seemingly inconsequential, throwaway worldbuilding comments that instantly double the depth of the universe of the show. Every time I get a glimpse of normal people living non-war-torn normal lives I love it.

Scenes like this. PEAK avatar.

That swamp just bitchslapped a bird.

I'd forgotten that Zuko and Iroh were in this episode.

Zuko is well on his way to being forgiven for stealing the horse bird.

Have to wonder why he had a spare set of black clothes lying around though.

Final Thoughts

This episode may well be my new favourite. I like if for the same reasons that I liked Bato of the Water Tribe: it shows us what comparatively normal life is like. Here's a random group of people that might not even know about the war. Looking at them gives us a glimpse of what Aang's pre-war world must have been like, and what the post-war world everyone is fighting to create could be like. It's both nostalgia and hope in one place.

I love that Sokka is still stubbornly anti-supernatural even after travelling for months with the human incarnation of a spirit, being kidnapped by a giant monster panda, and having his crush turn into the moon. Not to mention mega fishman Aang. Although, in a world where the existence of spirits is a scientifically observable fact, isn't believing in the supernatural actually the logical viewpoint?

Apart from that awesome deli slicer waterbending move, Katara did surprisingly little this episode. I think Momo and Appa had more to do.

Spekaing of, I loved having a little side adventure with Momo and Appa. There's enough personality in the animation and voicing of those two characters that they can easily carry dialogue-free scenes. Avatar should do a dialogue free episode with just Appa and Momo going on an adventure. I love their interspecies friendship.

The whole 'we're all connected' thing could have rung hollow if the writers hadn't taken the time to painfully personalise that message for two thirds of the Gaang. In today's arguably too-connected world (thanks internet) the lesson seems obvious, but in a pre-industrial world that's a century into a global war, I bet the connectedness of things is unknown, forgotten, or actively suppressed.

The incredibly short bookends with Zuko and Iroh were (I'm guessing) to establish that Zuko has taken a vigilante turn and that Iroh is inhumanly patient. Neither of those is a surprise. Honestly, if I found myself in that situation, I would react more like Zuko than Iroh. Guess that means I'm a work in progress.

The Storm last season showed that while Aang had a lot to learn, Zuko had a lot to unlearn. Instead of just unlearning incorrect things, it looks like the show is taking it a step farther and progressively stripping Zuko of everything. Zuko isn't one to sit idly by though, so he's fighting back by clinging to harmful things like his pride and learning things he arguably shouldn't, like how to commit theft of bird horses. Although I have no moral objection to stealing that jerk's swords.

This episode didn't have a beat up Sokka quota; it had a beat up everyone quota, physically and sometimes mentally too. Kind of surprised there weren't even bruises. And poor Sokka. The first cut is the deepest.

I'll definitely be rewatching this one.

[oops-aquarius]

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

--

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s. 

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you. 

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size. 

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick. 

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.” 

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly. 

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close. 

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt. 

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

[jaykayblr]

And it went like ; Doyoung | One-shot

Pairing : Doyoung × Reader

Genre : fluff, strangers to friends to lovers au, college/university au, mutual pining, café is kinda main here.

Warnings : slapping, crying, teeny bit of angst, kissing. Don't worry it isn't anything extreme.

Summary : it all started with two cups of iced americano.

Word count : 2.7k

Taglist : @starrdustville @thechoppersan @cupidluvstarrz @ncvltrtchnlgy @jenoleemonade @bluejaem

Author's note : ahh, this is my first One-shot. Based loosely on request that @starrdustville sent in my previous blog. Leave a comment to let me know what you feel about this one. I have worked for this one for a week and I am kinda proud of my improvement but I feel I could have done better now that I have read it almost ten times, but lemme know what you all think!. I hope you all like it! If there are any mistakes, please let me know.

You glance up from the screen of the mobile to greet the orbs of the male who had entered the class. The brown eyes roamed through your face and then looked away, choosing a place in the class’s backward.

Mysterious brown eyes were the first thing you noticed about the new transfer student. He was aloof, remaining silent throughout the class. You could never find him chatting with anybody. He consistently preferred taking the last seat in the class. He was suave, with soft boyish qualities. You had been looking at him at whatever chance you received for the recent few days. It was challenging to not acknowledge him; the dude had silky soft hair through which he would run his hand occasionally throughout the class. The transfer student wore dark colors, which made him appear even more alluring than the rest of your class boys. He was lean and was taller than you.

Straightening yourself when the professor started the class, you forced your mobile away.

Focused, the educator went on about defining the antique architecture of Rome. It was an interesting subject - but you found yourself gawking at the new student. It looked as if he acknowledged your stare, because there was a slight smirk stretching on his cheeks when you continued gawking at him for two solid minutes. You glanced forward and tried paying regard to your lecturer.

Same routine, but different.

You are carrying two drinks of iced Americano in your hands. The route you picked was busy with the science graduates bustling out of their classes. You should’ve kept your eyes up to prevent what was about to happen. You soon knocked into a hard chest with your Americano staining the said man’s hoodie. Before you could lose your balance, a pair of sturdy hands holding your arms held you. You couldn’t speak. As you realized the situation, you backed away to bow towards the guy - to sputter an apology, until you hear that man’s voice.

“Calm down, woman,”

You couldn’t convey anything. You were so enthralled by the individual’s voice that you forgot your locations. His voice was deep and silvery. The phrase sounded unfamiliar to you, coming from him. His accent was mind-numbingly hot - even if you had heard only two words coming out of his mouth. You view up to examine the new guy from your class. His eyes have a playful glint at them, as he grins at your obvious staring. You quickly move backward and apologize to him.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry, oh god I am so sorry” you bow to him multiple times. You gain the attention of the surrounding science graduates who chuckle to themselves but keep moving. He catches you by your arms again and interrupts you from bowing to him again and again and instinctively makes your heart thump a thousand times faster than ever.

“It’s fine, I will clean it and it will be fine”

“At Least let me help you clean it, please?” you asked, and he nodded.

That was a year ago.

Currently, it’s the fourth year of your college and you and doyoung are two best buddies. In this one year, you both have turned into devoted friends who can’t live without each other. Sounds cheesy, yes, but that is exactly how it is.

[From doyoung; ]

WhErE ArE YoU?!

You chuckle seeing your mobile screen flash with his messages. Sitting in your economics lecture right now, learning something about marketing. You look around to see if anyone is looking at you. The half the students paying attention to the professor and the other half are sleeping or doing their own thing. You glance at your professor who was extremely focused on teaching the first benchers. You quickly type a reply.

[To doyoung; ]

In class! What do you want?

You hear the buzzing on your phone after a few minutes.

“Your boyfriend is texting you” your seatmate mutters beside you and you just chuckle - not at her but at the constant buzzing of your phone showing that your best friend is turning impatient.

[From doyoung; ]

Which one?

When will it end?

Ah, respond!

[To doyoung; ]

God! Doyoung!

Economics and in 15 minutes.

It wasn’t late until you heard three more buzzes from your phone. Your seatmate - somi wriggles her eyebrows at you.

[From doyoung; ]

So there is this new cafe near our college.

I want to go!

Please come with me?

[To doyoung; ]

Ok, fine.

Pick me up from the football court.

[From doyoung; ]

Yes, madam!

“You both are one weird pair” you flinch when you see somi snooping at your phone over your shoulders.

“Then stay away from us,” you say and put your phone inside your pocket.

“Just confess to him. His female admirers are increasing day by day. Only yesterday I saw Jasmine confessing to him.”

“Wait what?!” you almost shout, gaining the attention of the professor and a few students. The professor glares at you and goes back to teaching.

“Yes, and don’t worry, he rejected her” she rolls her eyes as you sigh in relief.

“But it will not always happen. Listen, if you don’t confess to him, he will eventually start dating someone else,” she says with a stern look, as if she is scolding you.

“I know, but can you please not scare me? I am just nervous! We have been friends for so-” somi cuts you off.

“You all have been friends for a year and you don’t Wanna ruin it and end this friendship by confessing, right?” she says and you nod while looking down. “Baby, if you don’t let him know your feelings, he will always think of you as a friend. Is that ok? He will eventually start dating some other girl. Is that ok with you? Are you ok with seeing him with another girl?”

You shake your head. She was right; has always been. Somi always told you to confess to doyoung, but you really didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had with doyoung. He was the most precious person in your life. And it has been like that for a year now.

Doyoung had shown no interest in any other girls - including you. So you never really thought about the possibility of him dating. But now as somi stated this possibility - it made your heartache. It made you experience a weird heaviness in your chest that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

Were you really ok with that? Are you ok with seeing him in the arms of another girl? Were you ok not taking up the chance to date him? Were you ok giving him up? Would he reject you? Or would he reciprocate your feelings? Are you really ok with taking up the risk?

These thoughts swirl your mind as the class gets dismissed.

You and somi get up and walk towards the exit when somi stops in front of you and looks you in the eye.

“Do it before it’s too late. Time doesn’t wait for anyone” and she leaves like that - provoking something in you.

Maybe it’s about time you do something about it.

Standing near the football court, you watch some guys from the foreign communications playing football. Their loud cheers surround the campus. You sit near the benchers thinking deeply about the risk of confessing to doyoung.

Somi’s words ring in your head. You feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when you imagine doyoung with another girl.

"Ha!" you flinch and look behind to see doyoung laughing like he won a trophy for scaring you.

"Ahh, you scared me!" he internally coos at the little pout you made without realising it.

"Lets go?"

The fragrance of vanilla hits your nostrils the moment you step inside the cafeteria. The little bell rang, alerting the barista of your arrival. A grey-haired barista looked towards both of you and grinned. You glanced around; the cafe was bustling with people. The chattering of young couples, friends, and teenagers filled in the shop.

Intertwining his hand with yours, Doyoung pulled you towards a corner seat. As you both settled, the same barista walked up towards you two.

“what can I serve this fascinating couple today?” she chirped in a very calm voice.

You were going to deny her assumption but doyoung cut you.

“so what are you having?” he inquired, propping himself on his forearms.

“um, I guess, caffe latte?”

“ah-ha! I was considering the same!” he looked towards the barista “two caffe latte please?”

“sure, anything else?” she asked, her eyes creasing at the sides as she beamed at you two. Returning the smile you looked towards Doyoung with a raised eyebrow as if asking him ‘do you need something more?’. he glanced at the menu card in front of him. “hmm, croissants?”

"coming up," she exclaims and goes back to her work.

"and oh, this time I’m offering to pay!" as soon as you announce that, doyoung’s expression changes to a frown, demonstrating his displeasure. Before he can say anything, you resonate "whenever we go out, you never let me pay! This time I’m paying and I don’t wish to hear any disagreements!"

"Y/nnnn" he whines and you shake your head at him.

Falling in comfortable silence, you both listen to the soft jazz playing on the radio of the cafeteria. After a few minutes, doyoung glances at you, hesitance apparent on his face.

“what happened?” you urge him. He just shakes his head and busies himself by looking at his nails. You want to question him further, but you see the same barista walking up to you with your orders.

Placing it on the table, she leaves while smiling at you both.

"I assume she likes us," doyoung whispers while slurping his latte.

"don’t change the topic, doyoung. what happened?" you urge him, with your voice stern.

“have you ever thought about dating y/n?” you freeze when he asks that. Luckily, he is looking downwards, so he can’t read your expressions cause he is good at that.

“mm, why?” you start feeling anxious when he doesn’t speak.

He sighs and shakes his head, mumbling a ‘nothing’. you grow more frustrated at that.

As you swirl your fingers around the brim of your cup. Your thoughts going insane, ‘does he love someone?’ ‘is he thinking of dating?’ ‘am I too late to confess?’ you feel your eyes brimming with nervous tears. You face away from him when he looks at you.

“Y/n, I wanted to ask you something?” you look at him in the eye, and wish that he won’t notice your wet eyes. He slowly takes your hands in his, his thumb gently brushing over your fingers. He looks down and takes a breath.

“I want you to keep quiet and let me finish, ok?” you nod at him, not speaking anything cause you know he will pick up your emotions from the tone of your voice. He sighs and moves closer to you.

“y/n, I have- I have, um, I realize we have only known each other for a year, but this one year has been the best year of my existence. I have never laughed so frequently in my life. I’m grateful for everything you have done for me and- and just- I am just grateful for this friendship. Listen, I hope this doesn’t sound too sudden. And I hope nothing changes in our relationship after this. But- I-” he halts and takes a deep breath. You instinctively hold his hand tight as you predict his next sentence. Your tears threaten to pour as you shut your eyes in order to hold them back. Your heart thuds in your ribcage and you pant. You glance at the ground to avoid breaking down in front of him as he tells you about his girlfriend. You hear him let out an unsteady sigh and-

“y/n I Love You!”

You couldn’t stop the tears that gushed out from your eyes. You sink back on the backrest and cover your face with your hands and cry your heart out. Your cries fill the cafe as everyone becomes silent and looks at you. You cry louder as you realize he likes you back, your best friend likes you back, doyoung loves you.

On the other hand, Doyoung panics when you cry, he loses his calm when you cry louder. His eyes swell with tears as he thinks that he fucked up royally to make you cry like this. He knew it was a terrible decision. He knew you didn’t like him back, but he still took the risk and ended up making you cry. You got emotional easily but never had you cried so loudly as you did now. He avoids the pointed stares of the people who scowl at him for making a girl cry like that and goes down on his knees towards your chair. He tries to hold your hand but you just tighten them on your face. His tears fall as he holds the armrest of your seat and turns you towards him. Gently but firmly he removes your hand from your face and his heart shatters when he looks at your tear filled face. He feels a pang of guilt in his heart. What was he expecting? you evidently didn’t love him back? He holds your hands and starts crying with you. The people around both of you watch this scene unfold, some looking annoyed and some watching with pity.

“I’m very sorry y/n,” he sniffs “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” his voice is heavy as he swallows hard. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I said that” he gulps again, “you clearly don’t love me-“ you cut him off as you slap him. His left cheek stings as his face falls. The people in the cafe gasp. doyoung looks down as the realization dawns over him. ‘he screwed up, he ruined everything’.

“stand up” your voice is small but commanding and he obeys. He looks down as he gets up.

“look at me” and he obeys but gasps when you kiss him hard on his lips. You are holding the collars of his black shirt with which you pull him closer towards you. A loud cheer fills the cafe and the people shout and scream while watching this dramatic scene unfold in front of their eyes. He comes back into reality and pulls you closer and kisses you back passionately, erupting an even louder cheer from the audience. You wrap your arms around his neck and his arms take their place on your waist. You both kiss as if you were waiting for this - which was also true.

You both pull away and break into laughter. The surrounding people are smiling, some are even taking videos. The couples peck each other, the old barista smiles widely and her eyes shine in adoration.

“so does this mean…”

“yes” you respond with a wide smile adorning your face. doyoung brings his hand to cup your cheek.

“from how long?”

“a year,” you say, making him smile. “what about you?”

“one year too”

“so I guess we both are idiots?” you ask, chuckling.

“hmm”

“you are late. But I will forgive you for that if you agree to be my boyfriend.” he chuckles at that.

“deal” he asks and pulls you closer.

You bring your palm to cup his left cheek. “does it hurt?” you ask, and he nods whispering ‘badly’ near your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you say and pull away to look in his eyes to show your honesty.

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me,” he says, pulling you closer again.

“how?” you ask.

“kiss me,” he says and you don’t waste a single second more to kiss him feverishly.

the cheers roar loudly, again.

love...

© Jaykayblr – Do not copy or translate my work.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[iwantutobehapppier]

Face The Facts

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You could not foresee this thing happening to you.

Word Count: 2,024

Warnings: Angst, a lot of Angst so munch angst, alluded to sex, Depression def, language maybe?

A/N: This is emotionally charged 100%. I am sad (still FAB!) and listened to Paint It Black too much today. So here is my ANGST. I do miss you guys, and I miss writing smut for you, hoping to do so for you again soon.

Fingers drummed along the steel table reflecting the sun outside the coffee shop Sam had dragged you and Bucky to on this stupid bright and sunny afternoon. You could hear Sam talking but the words were muffled.

Your eyes focused on the line of the funeral procession making its way down the busy New York street. The black cars remind you of Tony, the burning in your stomach starting up. Before you can stop you think of him.

He’s gone, not like Tony but he might as well be. He’s dead to you. Died to be with someone other than you. It is a crushing weight to not be worthy. To not be wanted.

You hear the base in Bucky’s voice at your name. You blink a few times and turn to face them. Your boys. There used to be three, you grimace and Bucky mirrors. 

“Yeah?” The best you can get out. Sam’s warm hand covers yours stilling the drumming fingers. 

“You haven’t drunk any of your coffee,” Sam’s words come through but you feel yourself fade. The attention was never there anymore not since he- “I even had the cute barista make it special for you.” 

Your brows furrow. “Special? Did they roofie me?” Bucky chuckles into his cup. 

“No!” Sam’s indignant tone pulls the smallest tilt of lips. “AH, she smiles!” And it leaves. 

Bucky frowns at Sam swatting his hand away from yours to take its previous residence over yours. They fought like this often since Steve left, over your attention. If you should smile if you should wallow. This coffee outing is an agreed attempt between both to get you in some sunlight. 

It had been a month but to you, it felt like yesterday, it felt like everything fell apart just when you thought it was coming together. Maybe a little cracked but still together.

What could Steve be doing that was so much better than this? Was she really worth it? You knew the answer to that though, his actions gave a resounding yes. The sound of girly giggles pulled you from your thoughts. 

A group of chipper women on the crosswalk between the stalled procession. Their laughs carry over the sounds of exhaust, conversations at other tables, and your daunting thoughts. How you wanted to steal their joy, not for yourself, oh no. Just no joy. You knew how illogical it sounded, you knew if you said anything about it to Bucky or Sam they’d pull you into a group.

You didn’t want therapy, you wanted this pain, this was familiar. After all, most of life you spent unwanted, discarded, an afterthought, or at the very most a stand-in. Your hands ball up into fists. Bucky’s hand still over yours he catches the subject of your sight. 

“They got nothin’ on you, doll.” You catch that, looking his way the intensity of his eyes overwhelming, you look at your coffee pulling the lid off.

The Latte has a star with circles around it in foam, the circles turning squiggly lines as time has gone by since it was made. You choke on your breath, a heaviness growing in your chest. You’d never escape him.

Standing up you leave the two to enjoy their coffee without all your emotional outbursts. Shoving hands in your pockets you take a deep breath in holding the tears back. In the distance, you can hear Bucky and Sam arguing over the “special” coffee.

There’s nothing left but time now, never-ending time. Time he didn’t belong to, time you never thought you’d get. 

You pushed the Pym particles into the watch, ignoring all your surroundings. Narrowed focus as you stomped your way through the trees beyond the compound construction site. The protective helmet quickly slides over your head. You place one foot on the pad before you can lift your other foot up and you're being jerked back by your elbow.

Crashing backward into a solid wall of flesh you turn around knowing exactly who it is. Your eyes pinch staring up at the former Winter Soldier. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your growl between clenched teeth.

Buck grabs both your elbows, his eyes tracing along your face searching for answers. “The better question is what are you doing?”

“He can’t just leave like that.” You try to pull from his hold but it’s futile, you know this but you won’t stop. You can’t stop until you get to him. Until you see what life he made that was so much better without you. 

“Yes, he can,” Bucky’s firm tone and shake did nothing to calm your pain. The pain that had been sitting in the pit of your stomach for a while now. Festering and growing. Leaving everything else grey. 

“He can’t leave me like this.” He frowns at the desperation in your voice. If anyone understood your pain it would be him but even he knew he had to let go of Steve. Steve deserved his time to rest, his time to put down the mantle of Captain America. 

“But he did.” You freeze facing the ground, the pressure of tears collecting. That’s right he did, he left you here, to pick up the pieces of lives he wrecked. He left you to fix this all without him by your side for support. He left you. He. Left. You.

But you wouldn’t let that be the final word. Placing our hands on Bucky’s chest his gaze softens at your touch, hoping you were coming back to him. Only to feel you push him with air manipulation sending him sailing into a tree. 

He clamors to his feet as fast as possible, running towards you as you step onto the pad. “No!”

Bucky yelled your name out as your body dematerialized on the pad. The rush of the time tunnels dizzying in your emotional state. You fall to one knee when you land in 1951. You weren’t sure what time Steve stepped in but you knew from history where Peggy Carter lived in the United States as she ran SHIELD. 

You’d toured the house once when you were a naive SHIELD cadet. So sure that doing the right thing meant everything would get you what you wanted as well. Naive that the paths would never diverge.

Standing up you tap the watch, the nanotech causing your normal attire to materialize. With purposeful strides, you walk up the door and before you can knock Steve is opening the door with a stern look on his face that flatters at the sight of you.

Your name falls from his lips in a whisper, those lips that have worshipped every inch of your body. You can feel the adrenaline course through, without a second thought you punch him in the face.

“Son of a-” Steve stops while holding his nose, the pain radiating across his face then centralizing in his nasal passage. He was fairly certain the cartilage was snapped.

“You don’t get to leave without a real goodbye.” You holler, tears rolling from your eyes. “You don’t get to just leave me!” You shove him through the threshold. He stumbles at the act. Feet tripping over each other. You shove once more and his foot gets caught on the rug behind him coupled with his already compromised balance it takes him to the ground. 

You smile in sick satisfaction seeing him fall so easily. Taking steps over his body you stand above his chest. Looking him straight into his eyes you try your hardest to remain mad, hurt, and rejected. 

Yet, he looks at you with those beautiful blues, the specks of green so vibrant with the shock written all over his face. The words were written all over his face, blood pooling on his upper lip from your punch. That pathetic apologetic look you’d seen so many times. Like a stupid hurt puppy.

“Bet you thought you could just leave and we’d gladly pick up the pieces you left?” You place a foot on the center of his chest as he moves to get back up, pushing him down. You know you don’t have the physical strength he does but he still lays back down. That only infuriated you once more.

“Steven Grant Rogers, the man out of time.” Steve’s eyes narrow at you. “Still lost in time.” You taunt. You bend a knee, looming over him.

“I hope you’re happy.” Steve goes to speak but you slap the time watch, a sense of satisfaction fills you watching his lips turn down, that hurt expression the last thing you want from him. He should hurt too. His lips move to say something but you’re rushing through the time tunnels once more before he can get a word out.

Bucky paced back and forth in front of the pad, wringing his hands together. Steve could leave, he could and did accept Steve leaving. Made easier only by seeing Steve older, wiser, and at peace with his life. He couldn’t recall a time growing up Steve was ever at peace, so to see him like that a soothing balm for the pain of losing his pal. But you, you wouldn’t even look at Steve, you left. 

In the back of Bucky’s mind, he knew you’d take off too. He wasn’t entirely convinced he could handle that. The next thing he knows is an alert of someone on the Compound and a travel watch missing from FRIDAY. 

The last time he drove so recklessly was as the Winter Soldier, but his gut told him it was you. You were going to do something stupid. He just knew it since the last time he saw you. That faraway look, your inability to focus even on Sam’s idiotic jokes. He knew you’d do something stupid. 

Before Bucky could pull out his phone to call Sam the pad making noises. His eyebrows rose to watch you regenerate just where you had left.

You’re both silent as your helmet falls away. Do you tell him what you did? Do you tell him he looked good? He looked rested. That you punched him? Maybe not the last part.

“Where did you go?” Bucky knew the answer but he had to hear it. He was thankful you came back though, you didn’t leave him and the relief that swept through him for that was all-encompassing. 

“You know.” Looking up at the sky, embarrassment settled in looking at your previous actions but you were justified. He left, he had to know how he hurt you  He left people here to just be in pain to hurt. But were you the only one hurting?

“Why aren’t you hurting?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Taking a step down the platform stairs. You falter on the next step, Bucky’s there in an instant. Holding you to his chest pulling you down the last step. 

His chin sits on top of your head, he has to hold you. He needs to know you’re here, that you came back. That you stayed. 

“I am hurting, doll.” He turns his face into your hair, taking a deep breath in. You embrace him in return, his barrel of a chest making it impossible for you to wrap your arms completely around him. “I hurt every day.” 

“Then act like it!” you go to pull from him but he won’t let go. The metal and flesh keep you locked in. 

“What’s the point?” His voice muffled in your hair. “Life will go on regardless. We can only control how we react to it.” 

“I don’t want to keep hurting.” your voice breaks, the looming pressure in your chest blooming. It feels like you’ll burst this time. The tears falling from your eyes faster than before, certainly soaking Bucky’s shirt. Your body shakes in his hold. 

“I know, I know.”  He turns his head, his cheek pushing against the top of your head, gently rocking you back and forth. He wishes he could take it away, your hurt, and put it on top of his own. But this was yours, and he was going to see you through it. Because you stayed.

[tealin]

Cape Crozier: The Spiritual Journey

As usual, please check out http://twirlynoodle.com/blog to see this post and others in their original (functioning) formatting.

Since getting seriously into polar history, I kept hearing the same two things from polar veterans.  One was that I could not possibly understand the story properly, or be able to depict it truthfully, unless I visited Antarctica myself.  The other was that Antarctica changes people.  This was unanimous amongst scientists, historians, and even tourists: one cannot help but be profoundly affected by contact with Antarctica; that is just a fact of the place.

I have certainly been changed by Antarctica indirectly.  The inner kernel of “me” is the same in my earliest memories as now, but the Terra Nova men and their experiences have fundamentally shifted how that kernel views and relates to the world and the people around me.  I am a vastly better person for their influence, and that is a large part of why I have been so dogged in getting their story to a new audience: the hope that, through my work, even one other person might be changed in the same way.

When I finally got the chance to visit Antarctica in person, I had half an eye out for signs something had happened.  Two weeks into my visit, I had learned a lot and had some meaningful experiences, but I couldn't say I had changed at all.  Maybe that initial action-at-a-distance was the change I had been promised after all.

Then I went to Cape Crozier.

As we have spread around the planet, humans have noted certain places as being special in some way, places of some sort of power, or where the spirit world is a little more tangible.  The Celts called these 'thin places', where the fabric of reality is threadbare, and Something Else comes a little closer.  One can have a 'thin' experience anywhere, but certain places seem to encourage them.  They may remain completely unmarked, or may become loci for centuries of pilgrimage, or anything in between, but they exist in some form in every culture except, perhaps, the post-Enlightenment intellectual West.

Antarctica, generally, feels like where the edge of a painting dissolves into brushstrokes. There is a certain unreality baked-in: the sun wheels around the sky without setting, one can count on one hand the species of life regularly seen, and everything – the landscape, the weather, the distances – is so vastly out of proportion to puny humanity.  One could argue that this 'unfinished' feeling is because so much of it is white, but I have travelled through many snow-covered landscapes, and they feel like landscapes covered in snow, not fundamentally blank places with a few suggestive details dropped in by an artist whose main attention was elsewhere.

Cape Crozier was something else entirely, though.  It is, of course, hanging off the edge of Ross Island, but it felt more like it was hanging off the edge of reality itself.  It is a thin place par excellence.  And I had an experience there which I have been trying to process since landing back at McMurdo.  When I tried to discuss it with friends, my ability to speak quite simply stopped.  Then the pandemic, and the new house, and pushing through Vol.1, all rose up and drove it to the back of my mind.  In February I wasn't ready to talk about it; here in October, I worry it's too late.  But I feel compelled to share what happened there, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I ever will.

If this were a novel, at Cape Crozier I would have felt the thinness of time, and a closer connection to the dead men I had followed there – perhaps almost to believe they weren't dead at all!  In such a place, that didn't seem impossible.  But that is not what happened.  Nor did I have some sort of enlightenment beamed into my head from the heavens.  Even the word 'happened' is too suggestive of some sort of discrete external event.  If you had asked me, there, at the time, I'd have said I was just sitting there thinking. But I sit thinking a lot in life, and this was not the sort of thinking I am used to.  It was more like a revelation.  Not in the trumpets and angels sense, but in a literal one: layers of clutter and gloss were pulled back to reveal a simple underlying truth.  It was, in essence, a dose of perspective, a view from high and far enough away to see the big picture, and not the surface detail.  As I sat at the base of a boulder, gazing at the stone igloo and gawking at how completely insane were the men who dragged their sledges to this desolate nowhere to build it, I suddenly saw my life as it appeared in the Author's notes.

Ever since first getting the inkling that this story would make a good graphic novel, it has felt like a calling.  I said 'no' to the calling for years – some sort of cosmic wrong number – but when I finally said 'yes' everything started falling into place.  That is supposed to be a good sign, for a calling.  And I was happy following it, though it wasn't easy or comfortable.  As far as I could deduce, under my own power, it seemed like what I ought to be doing.  That is not to say there weren't doubts, especially in the grey light of a winter morning when I would lie in my rented bed, looking at my desk and wondering what on earth I was doing with my life.  And I was not untroubled by other concerns: Shouldn't I be more helpful to my family? Why have I been persistently unable to find a tribe, or a relationship?  Will I be allowed to stay in the UK?  Can I do this work and keep myself fed and housed?

Here, on a wind-scoured ridge on the edge of nowhere, reflecting on its history of unbelievable and, it could be argued, pointless hardship, one might expect to realise the folly of one's ways, and to swear off quixotic enterprises in favour of the hitherto unappreciated quotidian stuff that really matters.  But that is not what happened.  Instead, I got this dose of clarity:

I am here to tell this story.  Not here, at Cape Crozier, in this instant (although that too), but here, on this planet, as a human being.  This is what I am for.

Whatever I need to make it happen will be provided.  No less, and no more.

Everything else?  Tangential.  Not worth worrying about.  What needs to happen, will happen, and if it doesn't happen, it didn't need to.  And that's OK.

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

When I was young, we had a puzzle of the United States of America.  It was made of Masonite, and the pieces were cut out in the shapes of the states, which would be assembled to fill the recessed outline of the country.  Because they were geographical shapes and not interlocking jigsaw pieces, they would slide and rattle around until the last one got wedged in and locked everything else in place.

Most of my life, I have felt like that rattly puzzle.  I didn't realise it because I had never known there was another way to be.  But there under the boulder it felt like that last piece had been dropped in, that secured all the loose ones.  It was not that Cape Crozier was my missing piece and now that I had it I was complete – that is far too literal.  The missing piece was a something that wasn't even a thing; rather, in that moment of clarity, I felt all the jangling bits come to rest, and a wholly unfamiliar solidity.  At last the clay wobbling around the potter's wheel had been centred, and I felt a metaphysical ground beneath my metaphysical feet that I had not known it was possible to feel.

Ironically, the rest of the day I felt like I wasn't touching the actual ground at all, perhaps because what I was anchored to was on another plane entirely.  The stumbling shamble through the wind back to the helicopter might as well have been happening to someone else.  We took off into the gale, and though the pilot acted as though it was perfectly ordinary, when we were rounding the ridge he said 'wow, that's the rotor all the way to the left' which I didn't understand but didn't sound great.  Nevertheless the sense of peace persisted, and I understood how, in his last letter to his wife, which he knew would be his last, Wilson could have kept insisting 'all is well.'  (I knew why he wrote that: he had read Julian of Norwich.  But now I understood why.)

The journey back was a transcendence all of its own, the beauty of which seemed to be a perfectly natural outward manifestation of that altered state.  We touched down in time for me to make it to the Galley just as it opened for dinner, so we couldn't have been gone two whole hours, and that seemed absurd to me – surely I had sat under that boulder for two hours at least?  Or had we only been at the igloo ten minutes?  It was impossible to tell.

What I wanted more than anything was to go up a mountain and ponder the whole thing, alone, until it sorted itself out and I was ready to come back down again.  I could have gone up Observation Hill, but the weather looked liable to turn into a proper blizzard at any moment.  So, lacking a better option, I went to go eat, and, after having a chuckle at the Cherry Turnovers, slunk to the back where I could usually count on having a small wallflower table to myself, especially this early.  But one of the larger tables was full of young dudes talking about bar fights they'd been involved in, and I just … couldn't.  So I wandered into the main area and discovered the One Strange Rock crew having an early dinner as well, begged a spot at their table, and ate swaddled in friendly natter instead of at one with the universe in a blizzard.  It amounted to much the same thing.

Eventually one of them said, 'You went to Cape Crozier today, didn't you? How was that?'

I made an exploding gesture around my head and said 'Pkhhhh.'

Cherry wrote that the Winter Journey 'had beggared our language'.  I am sure that my inarticulate gesture is not what he meant.  But at the same time, in fact at that very dinner, I realised something about his writing.  The Winter Journey chapter is unanimously regarded as the finest part of The Worst Journey in the World.  Some people question that this otherwise unremarkable country gent, who never produced another book, could have written with such profound and expressive talent, and they posit that his friend and neighbour George Bernard Shaw, who definitely did consult on the book, must have ghostwritten it.  I have read enough of Cherry's writing – in his own hand – to know this is bosh; the voice and the style are distinctly his.  What's more, I was surprised to discover, when going through his journals, that a large portion of the Winter Journey chapter was not written last, despite it being the last to join the manuscript of Worst Journey, but was in fact written in his bunk at Cape Evans while he was recuperating from the experience.  In the published book, he singles out some passages as being from 'my own diary' but great tracts of unattributed narration are more or less verbatim quotations as well.  The experience related therein feels so immediate because it was.

The rest of Worst Journey, while perfectly readable, is largely a narrative rewrite of Cherry's and others' diaries.  Sometimes he lets others carry the story for pages at a time.  His writing is undeniably good, but is often simply mortar, filling gaps and binding sources together to tell a history that no human invention could better.  The Winter Journey chapter, on the other hand, reads like a torrent of pure inspiration pouring through him onto the page.  That such vivid, timeless prose should have come from an exhausted 25-year-old in his bunk in a wooden hut is no less remarkable than from a jaded 35-year-old in the library of his country house.

Artists of all stripes will often say that their best work is not their own creation, but feels like it already existed and came through them from somewhere else. It's as if there's a great Beyond where things that need to come into the world – stories, images, performances – queue up for passage through artists' minds and bodies.  Sometimes one taps into it by luck; usually it's a combination of training and discipline that makes the link traversable, from time to time.  Perhaps artists' minds are their own thin places, in a way.  Sitting there at dinner with my friends, I felt as though I'd brushed against the fabric between this reality and that Beyond, and, like touching the wall of a tent in a rainstorm, broken the surface tension and allowed something through.  I felt like, if I just put pencil to paper, something could flow through me, if only I could narrow down a subject.  With the intensity of his experience, Cherry did not so much brush against the wet tent fabric as punch a hole through it; feeling just a small inkling of that myself, it was no wonder that the creative energy poured into his diary with such intuitive eloquence.

Had I sat down to write this that night, perhaps I could have tapped into that flow, but I didn't feel I was ready.  I can guarantee you that right now I am not tapped into anything but a vague and dwindling recollection.  As vast as the experience was, by putting a box of words around it, I cannot help but reduce it to the confines of the box.  But that is the best I can do under my own power.

Compared to the seismic transformation of character brought about by my first vicarious encounter with Antarctica, the insight at Cape Crozier was very small and personal, but once in place, the ramifications have been substantial.  When I arrived back home, just before Christmas, the world was still as it ever was, but I was different, and I noticed how differently I related to everything.  Things I loved about Cambridge, which previously made me desperate to stay, I appreciated no less, but valued instead as something I had the honour to enjoy for a while, and didn't need to hold on to.  A young-adults group which I'd hung around, formerly a precious simulacrum of a social life, now felt hollow, and I abandoned it in favour of time spent one-on-one with the handful of people who I really appreciated.  They all said I seemed different; one person said I seemed 'sad', but I think I had just taken the mask off the seriousness which tends to frighten people. I have never been afraid to be myself, but in recent years have tried to mitigate that self in relation to others; there seemed no point to that, now.  It was as if my inner gyroscope had finally started spinning, and I had a sense of balance and orientation that I hadn't before.

Holding on to the clarity of that moment, and the centredness it brought me, has not been easy.  It didn't keep me from panicking when my housemate excoriated me back in March.  It didn't focus my mind on my work as soon as I'd moved into the new place, or save me from getting angry and frustrated when battling my tax returns.  Sometimes it's very hard to remember at all.  But I know what happened, and I can remember remembering, even if I can't recapture the feeling itself.  Sometimes, when it's very windy, I seek out a high open place in the hope of feeling it again, but it hasn't worked.  Maybe it doesn't need to.  Having it once was all I really needed, and even if I succeeded in flicking those switches again, what good would it do that hasn't already been done?

I could not foresee, on that windswept ridge on the edge of reality, where the world would be in 2020.  In wry moments I think I was only a few months ahead of a large portion of humanity, who have been forced to sort things out when the pandemic stripped away their preoccupations and illusions.  Maybe you are one of them, and you recognise some of what I've described.  Maybe you feel like you've been running away from it.  Maybe you have been running towards it but have been unable to find it.  All I can tell you is: it's worth the seeking.

I wish everyone in the world could visit Antarctica, even just once, and see how it changes them.  The world would be such a better place.  I am so profoundly grateful that I had the chance, and am determined to pay it forward by bringing some shred of that experience to as many people as possible.  If my communication fails to bridge that gap for you, then take it upon yourself to find your own thin place.  They are all around.  It only requires that you be receptive, and undertake to look.

[monstersandmaw]

Male changeling x female reader  - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Wow, I’ve had Issues™ trying to post this tonight. Anyway, here is a late Sunday treat for you, after being up on my Patreon for a week on early release.

This is part three, in which we go to the Spring Equinox Festival in the little village of Iska's Well, and meet someone there that we were not expecting!

Contents: fluff, smut, a bit of feels/angst amid the smut, some more smut, and a sappy ending. Knotting, unprotected sex (fem. reader is on the Pill), and Dunnock's shape-shifting. Words: 5189

Previously: the reader took some time off work to go back to her father’s old cabin in the woods just outside of the tiny hamlet of Iska’s Well, where she rescued a monstrous creature - part bear, part wolf, part... fae - from a nasty trap, and realised that those ethereal blue eyes were the same shade as those of the little boy with whom she used to play in the woods there as a child...

Part One, Part Two

The equinox festival was just as Dunnock had said - the entirety of the little hamlet, plus the outlying farmsteads and houses, poured into the clearing between the trees, filling it with lively music and chatter. Someone had organised a hog roast, and there was a vegetarian stand too, while in another corner a couple of local cider and schnapps makers had set up stalls of their own. The mile or so walk along the road from the cabin had warmed you up since there as still a bit of a nip to the air, but the huge bonfire that was crackling merrily in the centre of the clearing provided a welcome source of heat and light, as well as a focus for the gathering.  

A small folk band had assembled on one side of the clearing and their lighthearted tunes drifted across the crackling fire towards you, drawing you in like a chant in a temple.  

You weren’t usually the type who just showed up at things like this on your own, but something about the event had seemed more inviting than usual, and the moment that Martha from the village store noticed your arrival, she bustled over and began to coo over you.  

“Oh, my dear, you look lovely!” Martha crooned, “I’m so glad you came. Let’s get you a drink and introduce you to some folks, alright?”

“Sure,” you smiled, amused by her genuine warmth and somewhat busybody nature. The only thing that was lacking was Dunnock. Of course, he couldn’t have attended something like this with so many people, and your heart weighed heavy in your chest at his absence. 

It became clear almost instantly that Martha was trying to set you up with someone’s nephew, much to the chagrin of both of you. However, the moment you both cottoned on, you grinned at each other and reached an unspoken agreement to get along just to get them to stop fussing.  

Robin, it turned out, was actually incredibly sweet, and not interested in the least bit in women, and you sat on a log together and spoke for almost an hour about his work as a potter. He had just begun to experiment with using the natural clay of the area to make his wares, slips, and glazes, and was selling both online and in the local shop. Interesting though it was, after a while you started to get a little chilly. Rubbing your arms, you had just amicably excused yourself and stood up with the intention of heading closer to the large fire in the centre of the gathering when a movement out of the corner of your eye snagged your attention away from quiet Robin and his talk of pottery.  

A tall, broad-shouldered man had just arrived and was apparently staring straight at you from across the leaping flames. Sparks whirled suddenly upwards into the sky as a fire-blanched log crumbled further into the heart of the blaze, and as they twisted wildly and glittered like white hot moths, you caught a flash of intense, supernatural blue on the far side.  

Your heart lurched and leapt in your chest and you instinctively turned your eyes upwards to look for the moon in the sky.  

A huge, pearlescent, completely full moon hung low over the trees, silvering the needles with its soft light and you gasped as you snapped your attention back to the young man. Dunnock’s words about only being able to shift on the full moon washed back into your mind and your jaw went slack as you stared at the stranger.  

Wearing a well-loved and much-patched, waxed fabric jacket in a nondescript shade of brown, he walked slowly around the stones of the fire pit, with hands shoved deep into his pockets and his gaze locked on your face. When he came to a halt in front of you, you stared openly at him.

“Dunnock?” you hissed and his full lips twitched, eyes twinkling. He had a short, dark beard that looked surprisingly well-cared for, and although his skin was weathered, it still carried all those myriad freckles you remembered from the little barefoot boy. “Is it really you?”

He blinked slowly - that telltale, slow, almost lazy movement giving him away as much as the colour of the eyes behind the long, thick lashes. “Surprised?” he asked in a husky baritone.  

“Uh, yeah?” you snorted, smacking him playfully on the chest with the back of your hand. “Look at you! Wow! And why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

His answering chuckle - low and deeply satisfied - set heat tingling between your legs and you bit your lower lip. His blue gaze shifted to your mouth as he replied, “I wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

“Well you did!” you laughed. “And wow, you… you grew up handsome!” You laughed and brushed your index finger fleetingly along his dark, close-cropped beard and added, “I like this.”

Before he could answer, Martha had reappeared at your elbow like an unwanted hummingbird and looking a little put out at the potential rival for your affections. She looked Dunnock up and down as if he were the town’s unwholesome rascal, and tutted softly. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she said rather tartly.  

You looked from her to Dunnock and unthinkingly opened your mouth, “This is…”

“Dan,” he interrupted, extending a rough hand to her. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Martha,” she said and he quirked his lips a little and inclined his head. “You two know each other then?”

“Oh, we go way back,” you grinned, digging Dunnock in the ribs. His torso was invitingly solid beneath the softness of the jacket. “I just didn’t know he was going to be here tonight.”

The changeling was still grinning his lopsided smirk when Martha’s little gaggle of friends appeared to sweep her away like an unwelcome flock of cooing doves, and he tugged your arm and twitched his head towards the other side of the fire pit where there was a small dance space.

“Dance with me,” he murmured in your ear and you nodded, suddenly breathless as he slid his hands into yours.  

You weren’t the only ones moving softly to the folky music from the little group nearby, but everything faded to two pinpricks of blue in no time. It felt like the most natural thing in the world as Dunnock’s rough hand slid to your waist. He held you close and you inhaled the soft, mossy scent of him.  

For a long while, neither of you spoke, letting your bodies take over, pressing closer and closer with each step until you tilted your head to look up at him and saw an even brighter blue light burning in his gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered without breaking step. His grip twitched slightly and he blurted, “I want to kiss you…”

With a smile you slid your hand from his shoulder up to his neck and gently scrunched a fistful of the grey-brown hair at the nape of his neck in your fingers. He swallowed - growling audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, pupils widening, pulse thudding in his neck. Gently drawing him down to you, you kissed him.  

The soft groan he made as the two of you kissed kindled something warm, flickering, and a little fragile inside you again. He kissed you breathless until you drew back, laughing quietly. His hand had sunk to the very base of your spine, and he stared at you with slightly glassy eyes.  

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you again,” he admitted.  

“I didn’t know it was a full moon tonight, otherwise I might have stayed at the cabin instead of coming here.”

He twirled you softly beneath his outstretched arm, resuming the dance as if you’d never paused. “Then I wouldn’t have got to dance with you,” he said in a low, soft voice. Gods, but it was doing things to you that you hadn’t known your body wanted to do any more. It made you ache everywhere, inside and out until you weren’t sure you could bear it any longer.  

The warmth of his palms and the closeness of his body drew you even closer to him and you laid your cheek against his chest. “Would you still have… looked like this if you’d come to the cabin tonight?” you asked hesitantly.  

“Mn,” he hummed. “I wanted to show you, but I was… in two minds.”

Your head twitched up to look at him and you found a complicated expression on his handsome face. “Why?”

He rolled his big blue eyes and shook his head. “Can’t you guess? I look like… that for most of the month…”

“And you think I’d, what, regret you showing me this somehow?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”  

“Dunnock…?”

“Mmm?”

“Kiss me again?”

Unquestioningly, he did, and you poured as much of your heart into the gesture as you could, this time leaving him breathless and dazed instead. “Stop,” he growled playfully, “People are staring.”

“Let them.”

How long you danced and talked and shared food beneath the moon that night, you couldn’t have said, but it felt like hours. The moon rose fully and then began to dip towards the trees as midnight came and went.  

“You want to head back to the cabin?” Dunnock eventually asked as the pair of you sat on the log, fingers intertwined in his lap, thumbs tracing idle arcs over each other’s skin.  

For an answer, you stretched up and kissed him and he laughed quietly, though he returned the gesture with the same enthusiasm he’d had for it all night. With a nod, you slipped away through the trees with him. You could feel the eyes of a few of the remaining village folk boring into your retreating backs and figured you’d probably be the talk of the place for a while. Whatever. Let them gossip away.  

The pair of you had barely gone ten paces when he winced and grunted softly.  

“Dunnock?”

“M’fine,” he mumbled, catching your hand in his and squeezing fiercely. He stopped walking and drew you close to him with an easy tug, and then with a fervour that had apparently only been in the background before, he kissed you so hard you saw stars. Groaning behind the kiss, he backed you up against a tall pine and ran his hands along your jaw and into your hair, breathing hard.  

With a frenzied gasp, you tipped your head to one side and he began to leave nipping, rough kisses down the exposed skin, all teeth and tongue and desire.  

“I want you, Dunnock,” you found yourself moaning, rolling your hips against him and finding him more than half hard already.  

He bit off another grunt and buried his nose against your neck. “I want you too,” he snarled. “Gods, I want you…”

“Come on then,” you grinned, wriggling free and tugging him down the path through the pines towards the road.  

He walked beside you, holding your hand and protecting you from any oncoming traffic by placing himself between you and it, though you only passed one car on your whole walk back.  

The moment you stepped off the road and onto the gravel track that led to the cabin, he kissed you again.  

Tactile in a way that you’d only suspected until now, Dunnock was a sensitive and vocal lover. Soft, animalistic growls emanated from him from time to time, reminding you that he was not human despite his current appearance. When his eyes were closed, it was easy to forget that he was a changeling, a Fae, and that he spent much of his time in a form that was very much not-human.  

At the foot of the stairs to the cabin, he lost patience completely and picked you up, hoisting you up so that you had to hook your thighs around his hips while he held you. He backed you into the cabin door hard enough to drive the wind from your chest for a moment, and he began to growl and snarl softly as he kissed every inch of exposed skin that he could reach.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he chanted over and over as he worshipped you, setting your skin tingling with each kiss, each nip of his teeth, the scratch of his beard and the press of his fingers into the muscles and curves of your body.  

You were wet and shivering with want by the time you finally managed to convince him to put you down long enough to unlock the cabin door. In a rush punctuated with more kisses, the pair of you began to strip in the living area of the cabin. You only managed to get his shirt off before he was back, hands beneath your own top, lifting it up so that he could kiss down between your breasts before dropping down to kiss your bare stomach on his knees with obvious reverence.  

It took some work, but you finally convinced him to get back on his feet so you could finish undressing him, and you worked your fingers into the corded muscles of his back in encouragement. He threw his head back and let out a broken, shuddering moan; half howl and half snarl. None of the noises he made could have been mistaken for human in the slightest.  

“You like that?” you asked, raking your nails over his tanned back before shifting them to undo the old brass buckle of his worn leather belt and the button of his jeans.

“Mnph,” he grunted before surging forwards and tipping you carefully back onto the hearth rug. He loomed over you, biceps bunched as they bore his weight with easy grace while his hips ground against your body.  

“Clothes off,” you barked, cutting off roughly as he drew back the cup of your bra to lave his tongue around your hardening nipple before taking it between his teeth and sucking briefly. “Ah - Dunnock!” you grunted. The sound of his name seemed to penetrate the fog clouding his mind and he leaned back.  

“I…” he blinked slightly, still holding a perfect, unwavering plank above you. “I shouldn’t…” he faltered, panting. “We should…”

“We should keep going,” you encouraged emphatically, “But we need to take the rest of our clothes off first.”

“Are you sure?” he asked in a tiny voice, doubt flooding into his handsome features. “I’m not even human…”

“I know,” you smiled. “Dunnock, I want you.”

His blue eyes rolled closed and he lowered himself back down to lie atop you, his weight pressing you into the soft rug beneath as he breathed in the scent of your skin and hair for a moment.  

“Dunnock?”

He groaned again but didn’t move.  

“What is it?”

“My name,” he finally mumbled into your hair. “When you speak my name…”

“But it’s not your True Name,” you scoffed, remembering what he’d said about the Fae and the power of True Names. “Is it?”

“I have no other,” he said and you went perfectly still beneath him.  

“Tonight…” you began, casting your mind back, “When I introduced you to Martha… You stopped me speaking your name.”

“Mmm.”

“Dunnock…”

He shuddered almost violently and mouthed at your pulse point with his teeth, grinding his groin against you; claiming you.  

“Dunnock…” you whispered right against the shell of his ear and he let out another fractured, wounded noise. “Roll over…” you said, encouraging him to lie on his back so that you could finally finish undressing him.

He splayed out almost comically, arms outstretched, thighs slightly apart, chest rising and falling rapidly as his inhuman, lust-blown eyes tracked your every movement. Your fingers worked the still-open waistband of his jeans down and over his hips, and he helped a little by lifting himself up. His legs were lean and muscled, and as you skated your palms up his bare thighs, he shuddered and began to gasp and pant. His erection made an obvious tent in his boxers and you palmed it, feeling the hard heat of him, and he tipped his head back, exposing his throat, and keened.  

As his thighs began to tremble, you continued to palm him through the fabric of his boxers and he rocked his head from side to side under the delicious torment. Eventually he grunted your name and moved as if trying to take himself in his hand and do what you had only hinted at. Swatting his hand away, you relented and drew his black boxer-briefs off as well.

His erection sprang free, printing a bead of pre-come onto his abs and leaving a connecting line from his stomach to his cock. It twitched and you watched his balls clench a little under your gaze. “You’re beautiful, Dun,” you smiled.  

His answering reaction wasn’t quite what you’d expected, and his eyes turned sad.  

Hoping to distract him from his thoughts, you took his cock in your hand and ducked low to lick a long stripe from base to tip. He reared a little into the gesture and then fell back against the rug, head clonking on the floor as he collapsed. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck, that’s - ah - that’s so good…” he panted as you squeezed his cock and worked your hand up his shaft, your free hand cupping his balls and stroking them gently.  

When you thumbed through the pre-come that was beading profusely at the tip, he gave another broken grunt and his hips rose again, toes curling.

“You’re so sensitive,” you smiled.  

“I…” he began, but he cut off, cheeks flushing. The heat crept down his face, warmth spreading visibly all the way to his collarbones. He tried again. “I’ve never…”  

That made you pause. “You’ve never been with anyone?”

He shook his head, eyes closed.  

Heat roared inside you knowing that he trusted you enough to do this with you, and you redoubled your efforts to make this feel good for him.

It obviously worked because he slowly became a shivering, whimpering mess as you worked him, easing off when it got too much, and increasing the pressure when he started to relax again.  

“You’re going to kill me,” he rasped some time later. “Please… I can’t…” and he eased himself up onto one shaky elbow and looked at you with those searingly blue eyes. “Please…” he breathed.  

“You want me to make you come?” you asked. “Or do you want…” you bit your lip. You were on the pill, and clean, and if he hadn’t been with anyone, it should be safe enough… It wasn’t exactly safe sex, per se, but somehow you figured you could deal with anything else later. The risks were low enough. “Do you want to go further?”

Shyly, he nodded.  

“Which?”

“Further. I want you… it’s all I’ve been able to think about for days…”

“You’ve thought about me while getting off at night, have you?” you asked teasingly, suddenly imagining Dunnock as he was in his other form, huge and dark, with those big teeth and clawed hands, lying on his back in a bed of bracken with his big cock in his hand, moaning your name. You felt yourself grow wetter at the mere thought of it, lust coiling.  

Dunnock gasped again, but this time it wasn’t anything you’d done. He grunted softly in pain and grimaced, his stomach clenching.  

“Dunnock? You ok?”

“Mn,” he hummed, though he’d gone a shade or two paler. “Please…?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking a touch frantic.  

“Alright…” you smiled. “How do you want me?”  

He looked up at you and seemed a little lost for words.  

“You want me to ride you?” you asked coyly, trailing a fingertip up his thigh and sending him sprawling flat onto his back again. “Yes?”  

Dunnock nodded, cock twitching and drooling. “Yes…”

Straddling his hips, you dragged your wet heat over him and he arched into you, mouth opening. His canines were longer than you remembered them being, but you didn’t have time to think more on that as he adjusted his position beneath you and his tip slid inside you.  

He froze, but you instinctively rocked back against him, taking him deep inside you and he let out a long, low, keening howl that was anything but human.  

After pausing to let yourself adjust to taking his cock fully inside you at that intense angle, you rolled your hips a few times and his breath began to quicken, harsh and loud.  

“Oh gods,” he swore, writhing a little. “Oh gods… You feel so good. You’re so tight… so hot… I… oh gods… I can’t…”  

The way he filled you was delicious, enough to drive the air from your lungs with the perfection of each stroke, and you’d pitched forwards with your hands braced on his shoulders. Sweat glistened at the ‘v’ of his throat, and he was noticeably trembling all over. His skin was still paler than you recalled from earlier.  

“Dunnock?” you asked and he whimpered. Pausing your rhythm, you called his name again, but this time he didn’t respond. “Dunnock? Look at me?”

Reluctantly, he did and you found his eyes blazing even brighter. “I…” he struggled to talk suddenly and tears rimmed his eyes. “I think I’m going to shift…” he whispered. “I can feel it… I… Oh gods, no… I’m sorry…”

Tears spilled suddenly down his cheeks and disappeared into his thick, ash brown hair, and his hands moved to your hips with a fluttering hesitancy that reminded you of butterfly wings.  

“No…” he all but sobbed.  

“You need me to move?” you asked and he nodded.  

Drawing off him left you feeling empty, but your concern for Dunnock took precedent over anything else.  

He’d begun to spasm a little now and he pushed himself up onto all fours, cock somehow still flushed hard and drooling pre-come liberally onto the bare floorboards despite the pain evident in the rest of his body. “Don’t look,” he hissed, but the sound turned into a growl as his back rounded like an angry cat and thick, black hair began to ripple down his spine from the nape of his neck to his tail bone. “Please…” His voice distorted, becoming deeper and rougher as his body changed.  

There was nowhere for you to go while he shifted, but you looked away, and in only minute or so, it was over. “Dunnock?” you asked when the dull crack of shifting bones had faded and all that filled the room was the sound of his heavy breathing.  

“It’s over,” he said in a winded, dejected voice.  

There, still hunched over on all fours but much larger, was the Dunnock you had met in the forest: dark, rippling fur; large paws, claws; a slender, strong body; stocky hind legs and long forelimbs; a head somewhere between that of a wolf and a bear, with long canines and fierce blue eyes; and the soft, leaf-shaped ears of a deer.  

You had barely moved from where you’d rolled out of his way, but now you came back to him on your hands and knees and sat beside him. He turned his face away, ears pinned flat against his head, horrified.  

“Dunnock, look at me,” you said again.  

“No…” he snarled, voice a little deeper now,  but just as rough as before. “I… I should go.”

“Please don’t…” you blurted, reaching for his arm.  

He flinched away as your fingers touched his soft fur, but you refused to let go. Squeezing the solid band of muscle around his upper arm, you shook him gently. “Dunnock…” you repeated. “Nothing’s changed…”

In a flash, he whipped his head around to face you, eyes blazing, teeth bared. “Everything has changed,” he snarled; a vicious, volatile creature. “Look at me!”

“I am looking!” you fired back fiercely. “And I’m telling you that nothing has changed about the way I feel for you.”

At that, Dunnock went completely still. Unblinkingly, he stared at you, and then lowered one hip to the ground to sit, stunned, and continue staring at you.  

“Say something?” you half laughed, vaguely thinking about covering up now. Was it too late? Had the moment truly passed?  

“What do you want me to say?” he asked in a heartbreakingly broken whisper. “I wanted one night with you. And I couldn’t even have that…”

“Sun’s not up yet,” you smiled. “Though I’m assuming the moon has set?”

“Probably,” he said. “I don’t normally stay shifted for the whole night anyway. I thought… I thought I had more time…”  

An idea occurred to you and you shuffled a little closer. He watched you warily, but let you put your hands on his flank. You stroked gentle circles there, smiling as he involuntarily began to stretch that hind leg out under the invitation of your touch, taloned toes flexing. “Lie down again for me?” you asked and to your surprise, he complied.  

He didn’t take his intense eyes off you though.  

Splaying your fingers wide, you ran them the ‘wrong’ way up through the thick fur of his belly and chest, and he shuddered bodily, head rocking back again.  

Nothing’s changed, Dunnock,” you said again, and mounted his hips in a single smooth motion as if straddling a skittish horse. He was significantly larger like this, and his cock had retreated into what appeared to be a large sheath, covered with short, velvety black fur. As you rocked your hips over it, feeling it nudge luxuriantly against your wet, swollen clit, he let out another dark moan and whispered your name.  

“You… You don’t have to…” he began, but you cut him off with a second roll of your hips.  

“I want to,” you said fiercely, grabbing a fistful of the thick fur at his shoulders in each hand and tugging. “I want you, Dunnock.”

In response, he rocked his hips against you a little and his jaw slackened a touch to reveal the monstrous teeth behind his black lips. It didn’t take him long for his cock to slide free of the sheath, and you glanced down to see that it was thick, beautiful, flushed red, and drooling everywhere.  

To your surprise, a second later, he rose up and bowled you over onto your back to switch positions with you. “Is this alright?” he managed to gasp as he paused with his tip lined up with you, teasing you.  

“Yes!” you cried, spreading your legs wider in invitation. “Please, Dunnock, I need you.”

In his present form, he loomed over you, dark and hulking and nothing but muscle and teeth and fur and blazing blue eyes. He seated himself inside you in a single stroke that left you both winded and reeling.  

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed, bringing his muzzle down to your ear. His hot breath fanned out over your skin and down your neck, bringing goosebumps to life along your whole body, and sparking pleasure along your spine with the sheer size of him inside you like this.  

“Move, Dunnock,” you grunted, reaching for his ribs with your hands and scratching your nails along his skin.  

A series of tremors ran through him, though whether it was from your touch or the repeated use of his name, you couldn’t tell, but either way, he did start moving. Slowly at first, as though afraid of hurting you, he nudged his hips against yours, but when you hooked your legs up around his waist and drew yourself further onto his cock, he let out a deep, shuddering growl.  

His teeth clacked as his jaw worked, and a moment later he had opened his mouth and latched his maw gently around your neck. He was holding you in place with everything he had as he picked up the speed and force of his pace, pounding into you. Soon, each thrust had you seeing stars, and he seemed to be stretching you wider and wider each time. Drool slid down your neck from between his teeth and his rough tongue laved at your skin before he withdrew the sharp points of his teeth and reared up, catching you deep and making your back arch. The sensations were almost too much. A searing, white hot need was building, coiling, crescendoing inside you in a way you’d never experienced before.  

“I’m going to knot you…” he suddenly admitted, raising his head. The thought of that took you by surprise and then left you delighted at the idea. “Fuck… I…”

“Dunnock!” you gasped, snatching breaths between each powerful, mind-blankingly beautiful stroke. “I want you. I’m so close. Dunnock, I want all of you…”

And with that, you felt what had to be the knot at the base of his cock slide inside you. A second later, Dunnock came with a roar, hips flush to yours as he emptied himself into you. Over and over his hips almost spasmed, his powerful legs thrusting into you as deep as he could get, filling you, and as he came, so your own vision blanked out and you clenched around him.  

“Oh gods,” you heard him curse as you came, milking every drop from him. “Fuck… oh gods…” and the rest of his orgasm rammed into him. Every muscle was locked, rigid and trembling as the force of it ripped through him.  

It took a long time for his orgasm to fade, but when it did, he seemed to crumple, all the strength leaving his immensely powerful body in one go. He sagged forwards on top of you, barely taking his weight on his elbows as his spine bowed downwards and he lay on top of you, seated deep and breathing hard.  

Your hands traced patterns through his fur until he was finally able to withdraw some minutes later, the loss of his knot and cock leaving you almost devastatingly empty again. His release slid out of you, over your thighs and onto the floorboards. He whispered your name and you felt the power of it thrum through you.  

In answer, you breathed his own True Name back at him. “Dunnock…”

After that, he staggered to his feet and then easily picked you up, placing your exhausted body onto the bed in the corner. He joined you after a perfunctory clean, and the heat of his body as he nuzzled up beside you sent you drifting towards a blissful sleep. “Stay?” you managed to hiss. “Please? Don’t go back to the forest tonight.”

“Mm,” he replied, tucking you tightly against his side with a lethal-taloned paw and drawing the covers up over both of you. “I’ll stay.”

With the comforting pressure of his body cocooning yours and the weight of his arm slung over your waist, you let your body be finally claimed by sleep; memories of sparking embers and searing blue eyes swirling through your mind’s eye.  

“Dunnock,” you breathed one more time as you teetered on the fragile edge of waking and sleeping.  

“Mmm?”

“Dunnock.”

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, exclusive Mermay 2020 content, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier!

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[calebdumes]

fake dating/relationship prompt fill for the lovely @pretchatta

I may have let this one get away from me

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: m (not explicit) 

word count: 2.7k

~

"Why can't your contact just meet us on the Ghost when he gets into town?" Kanan asked for the millionth time as they navigated the winding streets of Neshorino. Hera resisted the urge to roll her eyes and adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

"Because," she replied in an even tone that didn't reflect her growing irritation with the man. "My contact left explicit instructions to meet him at Neeli's Inn." 

"Yeah but your contact also said he was at least three rotations out. So I don't know why we can't just wait for him there."

"He's already paid for our room Kanan." Hera squinted at him, the sun dancing brightly off of the colored spires that dotted the city. "It would be rude to reject his hospitality."

That and her contact was overtly cautious about this meet up. That’s why they left the Ghost two cities over and had to take a shuttle to the Capital. The Ghost wasn’t tagged by the Imperials and it’s signature modulator made a world of difference on jobs like these but her contact had insisted and Hera obliged. 

Kanan grumbled something under his breath but continued on beside her. He had been antsy ever since he stepped off the Ghost, on edge and starting to get on her last nerves. If she didn't already know that this was a two person job, she would have left him behind with Chopper but then again, her contact had been extremely specific, two people were needed. 

In all honestly, Hera would have thought Kanan would be all about this job, three days on a beautiful planet with all expenses more or less paid for. This was right up his alley. Well, except for the mission part of it. He still wasn't fully on board with the cause, she doubted he ever would be but he was slowly warming up to Hera's rebel activity. Heavy emphasis on slowly. 

"It will be fine." she tried to assure him, stepping out of the way as a group of school aged Abednedo children rushed by. "Think of it as a vacation, three days to relax while we wait on my contact."

"If we want a vacation, we should go to Spira." He looked around at the curious city carved into the mountain side with a perplexed expression. "Or some place less crowded."

This time, Hera did roll her eyes. "Duly noted." she said before turning down a wide side street that led directly to the side of the mountain. 

The rust colored rock of the mountain side that made up the façade of the inn, was ornately carved with flowering vines, the arched windows that dotted the surface were thrown open to emit the high breeze, vibrantly colored curtains spilling out like banners.

She followed the path leading to Neeli's Inn, the sun warming her face and lekku. She didn't know what Kanan's problem was, this place was far better than some of the other planets they had visited. Before she pushed over the heavy wooden door to the inn she turned to face her partner, grabbing onto his arm to stop his movement. 

"My contact said the owner is a bit of a traditionalist." she warned.

Kanan arched a heavy brow at that. "A traditionalist of what?"

"He didn't say, so just be cautious."

"Aye, aye captain." he gave her a jaunty little salute in response. 

Sometimes Kanan was insufferable. 

The foyer glowed orange and yellow from the glowstones trapped in ornate diamond shaped lights, giving the wide space in a warm and inviting feel. The woman manning the front desk however, not so much. 

"Can I help you?" the weathered looking Abednedo woman snapped as they walked up. Her long greying hair was tied back into a single braid that she looped over her shoulders like a scarf. She eyed them with a faint trace of disgust, her mouth tentacles curling.  

"We have a reservation, under Starbird." Hera supplied, ignoring how Kanan was glowering beside her. 

The woman tapped on her datapad before asking bluntly. "You're married?"  

Hera balked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"No unmarried couples are allowed to share living quarters." she glanced at them. "and you only have a reservation for one room."

Hera felt her chest tighten with anxiety. Her contact could have let her know that little rule before setting them up for a three night stay. She was formulating a response when Kanan's arms snaked out and linked with hers, pulling her up against his side.

"We’ve been married one year tomorrow if you can believe it." he said giving Hera an adoring smile that made her knees go weak. "Right dear?"

"What?" she said again, her mind suddenly refusing to think beyond married, Kanan, and the warmth of his body pressed up against hers. He gave her a little nudge, his smile taking on a desperate edge. "Oh right. Yes." she nodded with a wooden smile. "Tomorrow's our anniversary." The words came out stilted and unsure but just about everything in her mind was shot circuiting at the moment. 

The Abednedo woman looked unconvinced as she handed over their room key. "Room 406." she clipped out. "Breakfast is over at 9 so don't be late."

"If it's as good as we heard, we wouldn't miss it for the world." Kanan said with a wink before dragging Hera up the stone steps behind the desk. He didn't let go of her until they were well out of the Abednedo's view, right when Hera's mind decided to come back online.

"What was that?" she hissed, stepping away from him, smoothing her hands down the front of her flight suit.  

"Improvising."

"By saying we were married?"

"Hey," he pointed his finger at her. "You're the one who said it would be rude to reject your contact's hospitality. Besides, what happened to thinking of this mission as a vacation?"

"Yeah well now we're going to have to pretend that we're married so we don’t get kicked out!" she rushed out, her voice a little higher than normal. “Or worse!”

Kanan stopped by the door marked 406 and leaned slightly into her space, enough to make her breath catch at the sudden closeness. "Would that be such a hard thing to do?" he said in a low voice. 

Hera swallowed. It was getting difficult to think again. Kanan was right there, those green blue eyes locked on her, his lips just inches from hers. Close enough to kiss, to taste. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, her mouth going dry. But then Kanan took a step back, his face impassive. "Or we could just go back and wait on the Ghost."

"N-no." she choked out before clearing her throat. "No, it's fine. It's just three days right?"

Kanan smirked and swiped the key through the door control. "Right, three days on a beautiful planet with good company. What could go wrong?" 

Hera let her breath out in a long push, following Kanan into the room and subsequently running right into the solid muscle of his back. 

"Oh you gotta be kriffing me." he said in a low groan. Hera darted around him and took in the room. It was bright and airy, the doors leading to a wide balcony thrown open to let in the clean sunlight. Ruby red drapes fluttered in the constant breeze, contrasting with the thick stripes of dusky purple in the etched stone walls. But the thing that had caught Kanan's attention wasn't the beauty of the room. It was the bed. 

The one, single canopy bed pushed up against the wall draped with gossamer white silk.

Hera groaned. "You gotta be kriffing me."

"I'll sleep on the floor." Kanan said, dropping his bag down at his feet. 

"No you don't have to do that." She rubbed at the base of her lekku. "We can share right? It's fine with me if it's okay with you."

"Whatever you want to do, Captain." 

She nodded. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

Everything was decidedly not going to be okay. 

The first night Hera hardly slept, stiff as a board while Kanan breathed lightly beside her. A mountain of pillows sat between them, demarcating their sides of the bed. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep but it was impossible knowing that Kanan was right there. 

When morning came, the sky a brilliant wash of colors outside their room, her eyes were puffy and dry from lack of sleep. Kanan looked just as bad, his hair adorably mussed and a frown heavy on his lips. Hera slipped from the bed and locked herself in the ‘fresher to dress, her brown slacks and light purple tunic a far cry from the safety and comfort of her flight suit.

Breakfast had been another challenge. The dinning hall was practically empty when they arrived. Only Neeli sat at a table, looking up at the with a pointed look. Kanan’s arm snaked around her waist, holding her close as he loaded up a plate of food.

“This is ridiculous.” Hera said picking at a slice of melioorun. Kanan had pushed their chairs close together at the table, his feet resting against hers. It made Hera’s stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He hummed in agreement before tossing back the rest of his caf and saying, “Why don’t we get out of here?” he whispered it close to her ear cone. 

“And go where?” 

“See the city.” he breath ghosting over her skin. “Leave our chaperone here to worry about some other poor couple.”

“We’re not a couple.” she said with force. Kanan sat back and Hera instantly missed his warmth. 

“C’mon, just for a few hours. It’ll be fun.”

Hera sighed, giving in with a nod and letting him pull her to her feet. He took her hand in his as they passed by the proprietress and didn’t bother letting go long after they left the inn. She could feel his fingers against her skin. They were surprisingly soft for someone who liked to take on rough and demanding work. He held her hand gently, loose enough that she could slip free anytime she wanted. But the truth was, she couldn’t even if she tried. 

She let him drag her all over the brightly colored city, stopping at nearly every bustling market he could find. Neshorino was a beautiful place but Hera hardly remembered any of it. She was too preoccupied by Kanan. 

Hera wasn't stupid. She knew Kanan had feelings for her, he made that fact pretty clear on Gorse. And while his flirtations hadn't necessarily stopped over the past few months since joining her crew, they had become were few and far between. He knew how she felt about relationships. He knew her priorities. 

But the thing was, Hera found herself missing them, that sly smile and wicked glint in his eyes. Kanan was handsome, a bit reckless but good and kind. He fit into her life like he was always meant to be there, like fate or destiny was somehow pulling the strings, weaving them together. And somewhere between one breath and another, Hera was falling for him.

No, she suspected she had fallen for him not long after she met him. This was much more than that.

She was in love with him.

The realization hit her as she took a bite of her ryshcate, the gooey spiced nuts and flaky pastry sticking to the back of her throat making her cough.

Kanan’s eyes grew wide as she struggled to breathe. She reached for his cup of Jawa Juice and taking a gulp. 

“You okay?” he asked in a voice that was laced with concern. Other beings sitting near them at the café were watching them closely. Hera felt herself blush.

“I’m fine.” she gasped, her eyes watering. “Just went down the wrong way.”

Kanan looked unconvinced, the hallows of his cheeks sharp in the orange glow of sunset. “Why don’t we head back to the room?”

Hera nodded and let him lead her back to the inn hand in hand. As they crossed over the threshold, she rested her head against his shoulder, letting herself believe for a moment what it would be like if they were actually together. 

She pushed the thought aside. There was no use getting lost in daydreams. 

Back in their room, she stripped out of her day clothes and pulled on her black thermal pants, tugging her white shirt over her lekku. Kanan was already under the covers, the sheets tucked under his bare arms as he stared at the white canopy overhead. 

Hera flicked off the light and padded softly over to the bed, curling up under the covers. Her heart panged deep in her chest. She loved him. So what was stopping her from having him?

The mission? No, that was an excuse and she knew it. So what was it?

Fear. 

Fear that he’d throw her aside once he had gotten what he wanted. That he didn’t really love her. That it would ruining the friendship that they had built. That he would break her heart. That she would break his. 

Hera fisted her hands against her stomach and squeezed her eyes shut. So much could go wrong if she let herself have this. There was too much at stake, too much to loose if things turned sour. Hera didn’t know if she could handle that pain. 

“Hera.” Kanan’s voice said. Her eyes flew open to see his face looking over at her from the pillow wall. “What’s wrong?’

“Nothing.”

He frowned. “I can sleep on the floor if this makes you uncomfortable.”

Her hands unclenched as she sat up. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” he asked, crossing his legs under him. 

Hera bit her lip, looking down at the sheets pooled around her feet. 

“Hera, tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head. Damn her fears. Damn the consequences. She wanted him. 

Hera leaned across the pillow blockade and kissed him, softy but with desperation. Kanan froze beneath her and for one heart stopping moment, she feared the worst but then he was kissing her back, his hands coming to rest on her hips. She let herself get lost in the sensation of his lips on her, the heat of his hands where he held her. 

When they broke apart she was breathless, her cheeks molten with heat. Kanan looked just as wrecked as she felt. 

“I love you.” she said. “I love you Kanan Jarrus and I want you.”

Kanan kissed her. She fell onto her back as he kissed along her jaw and down her neck, his admission of love seared into her skin. Her hands traced down his bare chest, feeling his muscles shift as he moved. He pulled off her shirt as she shimmied out of her pants, chuckling when her shirt got caught on her lekku.

He mouthed at her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, her navel, then lower.

“I love you too.” He said as they lay together fully sated and breathless in a tangle of sheets, the pillows scattered on the floor. “In case I didn’t make that clear.”

Hera smiled and kissed his cheek. “You might have to show me again love.”

Kanan grind at her wickedly. “It would be my absolute pleasure dear.”

The next morning at breakfast, they sat side by side, pressed up against each other as her contact, a middle aged Abednedo man with a thick beard on either side of his mouth tentacles explained the mission. 

“There are two refugees that I need you to smuggle out of the system.” He explained, his eyes darting around the dinning hall. “Their names are Immel and Chuli, their parents were arrested for treason and the Empire is hunting them. I need you to deliver them to their Aunt on Batuu.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Kanan said, his pinky finger curled around hers. “Where are they now?”

“You can find them in the House of Strangers. In the lower city.”

Hera frowned. “You said this was a two person job?”

The contact wrung his hands nervously. “Yes,” he looked between them and then down at the table before mumbling, “You will have to pretend to be a couple to take them from the House. It was the only way I could convince their caretake to let you take them from here. Is that going to be a problem?”

Hera smiled up at Kanan. “No that won’t be a problem.” she responded. “Not at all.”

[nialledfromfics]

nothing (except for your love)

 a part two oneshot to Summer Camp

pairing: Niall/ofc

word count: 27,192

warnings: sexually explicit content; nsfw; 18+ only please

what holds me when I’m alone, what makes the tiger tame

what turns the sky from black to gold, what sends my tears up in flames.

~~

The last time she had been back in her hometown was nearly four years ago. It was the summer before she had started college, Cat spending her last four weeks as a camp counselor. It was the best fucking summer of her life. The summer she met Niall Horan. 

She had to admit that it was slightly weird being back at her parents house, in her old bedroom. Walls haphazardly covered with posters of The Strokes and Evanescence, half-burnt candles still sitting on her nightstand and her faded yellow daisy comforter neatly tucked into her bed. It looked just as it did the day she left for college, and oddly enough, that made her feel somewhat comforting. Like it was welcoming her home with open arms. At least that's what Cat told herself. Reality of the matter was, the job that she had lined up after graduating college, the same one that she had studied her butt off for, didn’t pan out like she had hoped and left her jobless and up to her eyeballs in student loans and questioning everything she had worked so hard for up until that point. 

Her parents, of course, were beyond ecstatic to have her back home, in her old neighborhood, in her old city. And Cat was happy to be back too, she missed being around her family; her mother, always the one to make sure she was eating well and not surviving off of pizza rolls and Poptarts, her dad, always there when she needed advice or just to lend an ear and her little sister, Katrina, always ready to gossip and bicker at the drop of a hat, like nothing had changed. She was happy to be home, but a part of her wondered if it was just a huge step back for her. That she could have just stayed where she was and made the best of her situation instead of, as she looked at it, crawled back to her parents for help. 

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. 

But she figured that the only thing she could do at that point was to make the best of her current situation. She was back in the city she grew up in, back in her old room and following the next morning, hopefully back to work. 

•

It was a Friday. Cat woke up bright and early, turning over in her squeaky-framed bed to tap away at the alarm going off on her phone. She grumbled, stretching under the sheets as she rubbed away at the sleep that had consumed her eyes. The rising sun had just started to peek through her curtains and she could already smell the aroma of coffee floating through the air, readily filling her nose. It was her dad. She picked up her phone to glance at the time, needing some convincing, before forcing herself up as she knew her interview was in just a couple short hours. Hopping in the shower, Cat put on the appropriate pressed black pant suit and a pair of beige heels and made sure her hair and makeup were done accordingly before she finally made her way out to the kitchen to grab a much needed cup of that coffee. 

“Morning, Dad,” she greeted her father who had just finished packing up his lunch for the day.  

He looked over at his daughter and gave her a smile. “Good morning, doll.” Cat opened the cabinet and took out a mug, helping herself to the pot of warm coffee. “Don’t you look all dressed up today,” her father then mentioned. 

Spinning around to face him as she took a long sip of her hot beverage, Cat nodded her head. “I have that interview this morning, remember? For that company downtown, Stomon Tech? It’s at 9:30.” 

“Oh right, right,” he stumbled, “you wasted no time, did ya?” 

Cat pressed her lips in a tight line and raised her brows. “Not home for a vacation, Dad, I gotta have a job. I still have bills to pay.” 

He nodded, grabbing his lunch pail and keys off of the counter. “Alright, kiddo, well, good luck and I will see you later. I think Mom is making cacciatore for dinner tonight.” 

Smiling as her father stepped over to kiss her cheek, Cat rubbed his shoulder before he turned to walk towards the front door. “Have a good day at work, Dad.” 

•

Her wide eyes scanned up the towering glass-paneled front of the 24-story building as she sucked in a steadying breath in an effort to appease the nerves that were creeping under her skin. Interviews always made her overly anxious. Would she say the right thing, what they wanted to hear? Were her credentials enough? Did she look and dress the part? Cat let out a tiny groan, annoyed with herself as she forced her feet to move, climbing up the front steps and into the building. 

The Stomon Tech company took up two floors of the massive office building, floors 23 and 24 respectively, and the young woman followed behind a few others that were filing into one of the open elevators. She knew she had to go to the very top floor, as that was where the person she had conversed with instructed her to go, so she watched with bated breath as the numbered buttons slowly lit up one by one as they passed. It seemed like they had stopped at each floor, a good five minutes of people getting on and off, before she finally made it to where she was supposed to be. 

The doors slid open with a ding and she was immediately met with a huge reception area; gorgeous marbled-tiled floors, partitioned walls made of beveled glass and ultra-contemporary light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, all topped off with a stunningly perfect blonde sitting behind a large curved desk that was straight ahead. There was a big sign above the girl’s head that read Stomon Tech Limited, seemingly carved out of a silvery metal. The place was very modern and shiny, very clean and Cat politely smiled as she walked up to the front desk. The blonde peered up at her, a timid grin on her dark painted lips. “Welcome to Stomon Tech, how can I help you?” she asked. 

Cat cleared her throat and placed a hand on the chest-high counter in front of her. She squeezed hard around the edge, hoping it would tame the shaking in her fingers. “Hi, uh, my name is Catherine Williams and I have an interview at 9:30.” 

Tapping at the keyboard of her computer, the receptionist read over her screen before she looked back up at Cat with a tight, but friendlier, smile. “If you want to find a seat right over there,” she instructed, pointing just over Cat’s shoulder to a small reception area, “someone will be with you shortly.” 

“Thank you.” 

Holding her folder of paperwork to her chest, Cat walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, planning to use the extra time to give everything she had brought with her one last check. She had her folder spread out across her knees, quietly scanning through the papers one by one, making sure nothing was amiss. A few minutes had gone by when she heard the ding of the elevator doors open next to her, and she glanced up just as a dark haired man in a suit hurriedly walked by. She paid him no mind and looked back down at her lap, her focus on the remaining paperwork she was going over. Cat bit at her lip as a few muddled whispers between the receptionist and the man floated through the air of the lobby, and she furrowed her brows to concentrate, mouthing the words as she read over the bottom page of her resume. 

“Cat?” 

Her lips stopped moving, her fingertip halting on the paper in front of her. How did that person know her nickname? And why did his voice sound so familiar? Slowly sliding her stare up, from the expensive black oxfords to the perfectly pressed grey suit to the crisp white button up that was left slightly open at the base of his neck, Cat’s breath stalled in her throat as her eyes finally met his. As blue as the salty ocean’s waves, cool and sticking to your skin, her heart nearly skipped a solid beat when he smirked, and then it hit her. Oh my God. “Niall?” 

Narrowing her eyes, she moved her folder from her lap onto the chair as she stood up. Her mouth hanging open slightly as she dragged her stare across his features, his smile getting wider the closer she slowly shuffled over to him. His hair was dark, no longer that bleached out blond that she had remembered of him, and it was cut shorter, styled much better, delicately swept over to the side with little pieces hanging just across his forehead. It looked soft and inviting, pretty if she had to give it an adjective, and the corners of her mouth began to tug into a smile. He was older than her mind was letting her remember him, more refined and his body definitely more defined, at least what she could tell under his extremely well-fitted suit, and he had a thick dark stubble lining his jaw. 

She pushed out a huff as she stepped closer to him and before she could say hello, even mutter a coherent word, he had wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her into a hug. Cat’s eyes fluttered as she buried her nose against his shoulder, inhaling slightly as her hands gently cradled his upper back. He smelled good. Really good. Nothing like the boy sweat and sunscreen that she remembered, but fresh and clean, like a soft floral mint with a subtle hint of cedar. She rolled her eyes at herself for dissecting the man’s cologne as Niall eased himself from the embrace. “Hi, Niall,” Cat finally greeted him, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

“Shit,” Niall huffed, his blue eyes noticeably spanning down Cat’s frame. She looked older too, polished and put together in her fitted dark pantsuit. Her hair was longer than he had remembered, a natural wave adorning the strands and her skin looked softer too, well taken care of and Niall immediately found himself struggling with wanting his hands on her. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than when Niall had seen her last. And he thought that would have been hard to top. She was a hot, fiery little thing at 18 when he had first met her, but now–Niall licked across his lips as his gaze met hers again–now she was a woman, and she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He stuffed his hands down into the front pockets of his trousers. “It’s been, what….four years?” 

Cat nodded. “Yeah...it’s, um, it’s been awhile.” 

“How are ya?” he asked her, his head tipping slightly as he kept his stare on hers, “I thought you lived in...Denver, was it? At least that’s where ya were going the last time we spoke.” 

“Yeah, I was living there,” she told him, “that's where I went to college. And I stayed there after I graduated but the job I had...it wasn’t-...well, it just wasn’t working out. So I moved back here, back in with my parents.” Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, wanting to scream at herself for telling him that last bit. 

But he just smiled at her. “You’re parents live here?” 

“Yup, over on the Eastside,” she said, Niall nodding as Cat went on, wrinkling her brows. “Do you...work here too? I’m here for an interview.”

Niall huffed out a chuckle and bowed his head as he rubbed over his chin with his fingers. “Uh, actually,” he started, looking back up at her, “its-...this is my company.” 

Cat’s stare went big, her tongue stumbling over her words. She totally just made a fool out of herself. “Oh...oh God,” she mumbled, Niall highly amused as he peered at her with those dreamy hooded blue eyes of his. Bedroom eyes as Cat liked to remember them, and he knew it. She cleared her throat. “Um, wow, uh...are you interviewing me?” Her brows pulled in as she pointed at herself. 

He chuckled again, waving a hand in front of himself. “No, no, that would be Elena in HR. Probably would be a bit unfair if I were to interview ya. I’d be a little too biased.” 

Cat breathed out a smile and lowered her stare. Her gaze dotted across the silver-speckled tile that rested below her feet. “Yeah, I guess that would be a conflict of interest.” 

Bellowing out a hearty laugh, the reminiscent sound bounced off the glass walls around them and caused Cat to glance up at him. In that moment, with the crinkles forming by his eyes and that soft dimple pressing into his left cheek, he looked exactly like he had four years prior. It made her smile. Niall yanked his hand from his pocket to check his watch. “Shit, um, I really hate to cut this short, Cat,” he began as he met her gaze again, “unfortunately, I’ve got an important meeting startin’ in just a couple minutes, but, um…” 

Niall paused, licking over his lips as his brows pulled in. “We should meet up for drinks tonight.” 

His offer caught her off guard, and she stuttered a little before being able to pull herself together. “Uh...yeah, yeah...sure.” 

“Great,” Niall concluded, the edges of his mouth tugging up, “my secretary will get your number from your file and I’ll give ya a ring.” Cat nodded. “Good luck in there!” 

“Thank you.” 

Niall had already started to walk past the front desk and down the hallway, Cat having just made it back to the chair she had been sitting in. She reached down to pick up her folder when he stopped in his tracks. “Hey, kitty cat?”

The sound of his husky voice and that gritty accent, calling her that very thing that only he called her, that very thing she hadn’t heard in four years, caused her entire body to tense up and an instant warmth to pool in her belly. She slowly turned to face him and he cocked his head back, rolling his tongue in his mouth. “You look really fuckin’ good, by the way.” 

Giving her a wink, no other words were shared between them as he stepped away and disappeared around the corner. Cat couldn’t help but smile. That was the Niall she remembered. 

•

She received a call from Niall a few hours later, inviting her out that evening to a pretty popular bar downtown. Cat, who was already back at her house and into her sweatpants, agreed to meet him there around 9, as that was when Niall said he’d be through with work. She didn’t have much expectations for the night, and she wasn’t trying to encourage any expectations either, far be it to be honest, but she thought that for the sake of going out to a rather upscale place, that she would dress up a bit more than usual. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had dressed up, or even went out to a nice bar for that matter. 

As Cat sat on the bus, the bright neon lights of the busy city nightlife zipping past the window, she glanced down at her lap. For a moment she was questioning what she was wearing; a short blue dress that was low and tight across her chest but flowy around her hips, one that she had bought a year or so back for a friend’s wedding, and a pair of strappy black heels. Maybe, she thought, she had dressed up too much, maybe it would give him the wrong impression. The impression that she wanted anything to do with him. 

Sighing lightly under her breath, Cat turned her head and stared out of the smudged window next to her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about Niall all those years, it wasn’t that she hadn’t hoped that what they had had that summer could have been more than what it was at the time, or that they could have reconnected at some point, she had very much thought of all of that, many times over the course of her first year in college. But with four years passing since then, she was older, wiser, time had changed and so had she. Her biggest fear was that Niall hadn’t. And while that little piece of her hoped to cling onto that old Niall that set her world ablaze that one amazing summer, another part of her, a bigger part, hoped that he had also grown up and matured, that he had moved on from his womanizing ways. 

Maybe that hope was too big of a stretch. 

Cat arrived at the bar a little before their intended meet time and she wondered, as she stepped through the large baroque doors, how long she would be waiting there for him to show up. There was a hostess standing just off to the side behind a sleek black marble counter and she smiled as Cat bounced her stare around the incredibly posh looking space. “Welcome, do you have a reservation?” 

Cat looked over at the hostess, smiling politely as she walked towards where she was standing. “No, no reservation...um, I’m actually meeting someone...I’m not sure if they are here yet…”

“Niall Horan?” 

Wrinkling her brows slightly, Cat pulled her face in. “Yes, actually…” she chuckled. 

The young woman smiled. “Right this way.” 

Hugging the sweater she had brought with her to her chest, Cat followed the hostess through the swanky bar, weaving around high top tables and other equally as dressed up patrons before they came to a large booth tucked in the back corner. Her eyes met his the second the hostess stepped away, and Cat just stood there by the edge of the half-moon table, quiet and trying with all her might to stop the rattling in her chest. He was the only man that had ever made her feel that way with one single glance, even when she didn’t want it. Niall was slumped back in the booth, his suit jacket now off and folded next to him on the seat and his crisp white shirt unbuttoned even further, showing off that gorgeously dark smattering of chest hair and a simple gold chain, finished with a tiny round pendant hanging from it. Cat hadn’t noticed it before, but thought that it suited him well. 

She swallowed hard as her eyes flowed down the length of his arms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms and that very expensive watch that was strapped to his wrist. Cat looked back up at his face. He smirked at her, his brow rising just enough beneath those few strands of dark hair that laid across his forehead that it made the air catch like glue in her throat. All she could do was smile. “Hey,” she said, barely over a whisper. 

“Hi,” Niall responded, nodding towards his left, instructing her to join him into the crescent shaped booth. She willingly obliged and slid herself in next to him. Not even meaning to, she pulled in a deep breath as their bodies moved closer, instinctually needing to smell him. She wasn’t disappointed. “You look incredible, Cat.” 

Tucking her face down in a slightly sheepish smile, the girl combed some hair behind her ear and plunked her elbow onto the table, peering over at him. “You didn’t change,” she mentioned.

Niall peeked down with a chuckle, using his fingers to pluck at the semi-opened button up adorning his upper half. “What, ya sayin’ I don’t look nice?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cat said, biting at her lip.

Tapping his fingers on the nearly empty glass that was wrapped in his one hand, Niall raised his brows. “Would ya like a drink?” 

“Yeah,” Cat replied with a slight inhale, sitting back in the booth, “beer’s fine.” 

“Oh, ya like beer, huh?”

She shrugged. “I’m a simple girl, doesn’t take much to impress me.” 

“Shit, coulda fooled me,” he scoffed with a short chuckle. Cat just stared at him, a tiny roll of her eyes caught by Niall and he smirked. “Beer it is then.” 

Niall ordered them both a couple beers, and then a few more. Over the next hour and a half, they immersed themselves in light conversation, keeping the subjects superficial and easy flowing. They talked about what they had accomplished in school and work, where they had been living, a little friendly banter mixed in between until the effects of the alcohol had started to create a bit of tempestuous buzz in their heads. It wasn’t long before the vibe had shifted, their body language and their small talk becoming more relaxed and comfortable. Cat felt like maybe Niall had changed more than she had assumed, he was very polite and engaging, super sweet and had yet to make any crude remark. 

Though the night was still young. 

“I guess, I should thank you for the job, by the way,” Cat stated, taking a sip of her beer. Her eyes were locked on Niall’s over the rim of the frosted glass. 

He was leaned back, his one arm slung behind Cat along the back edge of the booth and he casually smirked. “Why do ya say that?” 

Cat rolled her eyes. “I know it was you, Niall. I hadn't even gotten back to my car yet, by the time they called me and offered me the job.” 

Niall brought his pint to his mouth, tipping his head back as he took a long, quiet and very telling, sip. Licking the remnants off his lips, he set the glass back onto the wooden table, twirling it around in the wet ring of built up condensation. “That was all you, Cat, must’ve had a really good interview.”

“Right…”

He laughed. “Listen, you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ outta me.”

Cat bowed her head in a giggle, and swept her hair behind her ear as she looked over at him. “Fine,” she said softly, “but thank you, really. I’ve not had the easiest time, so...it does mean a lot to me.” 

Niall’s blue eyes fanned over her face and he gave her a sincere smile, one that she knew all too well, and nodded. “Guess that means we’re gonna be hangin’ out a lot more now,” he joked as he pulled in a deep breath. 

Cat rested back into the booth, folding her hands on top of her crossed legs. “Are we gonna be work buddies?” she asked him with a playful grin. Niall glanced down, noticing her dress had ridden up a tad on her thigh. She used her fingers to straighten the material, her stare never faltering off his face and he peeked back up at her. 

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, and Cat felt the faintest of tickle at the back of her neck, as if someone was very delicately playing with the ends of her hair. It caused a shiver to splay across her skin. “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout work buddies,” Niall finally said, his voice low and heavy in his throat, inducing a familiar clamping of Cat’s thighs at the sound. 

She inhaled sharp and lightly shook her head. “Mmm...I figured you weren’t.” 

“So…”

Slipping her gaze from his, Cat glanced at the half drank pint that rested in front of her. She watched the tiny bubbles glide up the side of the glass. Her tummy was flipping in on itself, her heartbeat picking up as each second passed and she breathed out a sigh, hoping to create some calm within the obnoxious chaos going on inside her. “Look, Niall, I know what you’re hinting at and I just, um,..I want you to know that-...” Cat paused and scraped her teeth across her bottom lip as she slowly brought her eyes back to his. “I, um...I have a boyfriend.” 

His brows furrowed, his hand reluctantly inching back from its close proximity to her shoulder. “You do?”

Cat nodded. “Yeah, he still lives back in Denver...but, yeah.” 

Shifting himself to face her, Niall tipped his head as he lifted his arm from behind Cat and rubbed across his bearded chin. “Well, it can’t be that serious,” he mumbled.

“Why do you say that?” she asked him with wrinkled brows.

“ ‘cause he’s in Denver and you’re here,” he explained with a shrug.

“I-,” Cat paused and shook her head, her lips falling to a part, “its long distance…” 

“It won’t work out.” 

She was the one to turn her body to face him this time, her brows pulling in even more. Cat hooked her arms across her chest in slight annoyance. “You don’t know that,” she spit out to him. 

Niall scoffed lightly, dropping his stare to his lap as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I do know that if you were my girl,” he began, catching her stare. His eyes looked dark, seedy in the low lights of the bar. “I would not be able to go more than one fuckin’ day without ya.” 

A heavy breath hilted in the back of her throat at his words, Cat staying quiet as Niall reached out and grabbed his pint from the table, taking a sip of his beer. Peering down, Cat slowly unfolded her arms from her chest and pressed her palms across her thighs. She chewed at a piece of dry skin from the edge of her lip before looking back up at Niall. “Maybe it won’t,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder, “but that’s where I’m at right now.” 

Niall shook his head, pulling a breath in between clenched teeth as he set his beer back down on the table. “It won’t. Trust me.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Enough about me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Niall pushed out a snort. “No...I don’t.”

“And why not?” Cat asked him, shifting her eyes over his features. He was so handsome, it made her insides ache. His dark eyelashes, that perfect nose...his soft, pink lips. She wondered, for a single moment, what it would feel like to kiss him again. To have his mouth pressed to hers, swallowing his breath, tasting his tongue. Then she wondered what the hell was she thinking. 

Noticing her stare on his mouth, Niall tucked his lips in and cocked his head back. Her eyes landed on his once more. “Just don’t do serious relationships, ya know?”

“That sounds about right,” Cat muttered under her breath. “Can I ask you something, Niall?”

He lifted a brow in amusement. “Sure, petal, isn’t that what we’re doin’ here?”

“Yes, smart ass,” she replied sharply. Niall pushed out a laugh, taking another long sip of his beer. “Whatever happened with you and Sarah? You know the girl from camp? I mean, I’m only asking ‘cause I never went back and I’m...kinda curious.” 

Niall narrowed his eyes a bit and a smirk began to curl at the corner of his mouth. “Are ya askin’ me if I slept with her?”

She tilted her head. “In a less intrusive way, I guess...yeah.” 

With his hooded eyes darting over hers, Niall stayed quiet for a minute, almost as if he was trying to read what Cat was thinking. If only he could ever get a clear read on that girl. The one person he was never able to, and that frustrated him. She pulled in a shaky breath, moving her gaze away from his as it became almost too intimidating for her. “Do ya really wanna know?” he then asked her. 

She nodded and Niall straightened his body, leaning forward to rest his forearms across the edge of the table. His chin bumped at the peak of his shoulder as he looked back over at her. “I did end up fuckin’ her,” Niall went on, pausing to lick across his lips. “That next summer, actually.” 

Cat bit at her lip, a tiny pang settling in the pit of her stomach and she reached out to grab her beer, throwing back a big gulp. She didn’t like the way his words were making her feel. “I thought, um...I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t,” Niall spit out, lifting his shoulder, “but...you weren't there.” 

Shooting her stare back to his as she put her glass back down, she watched as a soft smile etched over his lips, nearly hidden behind the round of his shoulder. Cat cleared her throat. “I know,” she started, taking in a deep breath, “I really wanted to come back, I know I had told you the summer before I left that I would, but then I got this internship in Denver that I just couldn’t pass up, so I...just decided to stay–” 

His mouth turned down at the corners and he faintly shook his head. “It’s okay, Cat. I understand,” Niall told her, slumping back into the booth again. “It was my last summer there, and I dunno, I guess I got bored. She was shit, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

Cat’s eyes went big at his statement and she threw a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. Niall, on the other hand, freely belted out. The sound, still reminiscent of years before, made her laugh even harder. “I missed you that summer,” Niall then sighed out. 

“That’s surprising,” Cat chuckled. 

Niall wrinkled his brows. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I’m sure you had a swarm of girls all over you,” she explained, gesticulating as she spoke, “like you always do. Like I’m sure you still do.” 

He cocked his head back as his stare stayed on her. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think about ya, Cat,” he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug, “or that I didn’t miss ya.” 

Cat darted her eyes over his as an awkward quiet had settled between them. She really didn’t know what to say to that declaration of honesty coming from him, so she just picked her pint up off the table and silently guzzled back the rest of her beer. “You want another?” Niall asked her, pointing to her empty glass as she wiped across her lips. She glanced at it before looking back over at him, a smirk forming on his mouth. “Or should we just go back to my place…”

Cat chuckled as she set her glass down. “Nice.” 

“What?” he laughed. 

“I’m not going home with you.” 

Shifting his body closer, Niall inched his face in right up next to hers, her heart surging as she felt the heat of his breath on her jaw. She struggled with wanting to move away, with not wanting to move away, with letting her eyes flutter closed as the warmth of his entire body started to encapsulate every inch of her exposed skin as he ever-so-softly let the tip of his nose brush over her ear. “Are ya sure about that, love?” 

It was the slickest, naughtiest, grittiest tone of whisper that she had ever heard and it took every part of her to not jump in his lap at that very second. But she knew she couldn’t. Cat forced herself to laugh at his attempt and Niall eased back, a cocky smirk still plastered across his face. “Niall, as hard as you’re gonna try,” she told him, raising her brows to assert herself, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Plopping back into the seat in a defeated huff, Niall rubbed his palm over the front of his face. “Fuck...well, that ruins all me plans,” he joked as they both laughed. “How ‘bout I just take you home then?” he went on, catching her stare going wide as she peered over at him. He pinched his eyes shut in a snort upon realizing what he had said. “No-...to your home. Jesus…” 

Smiling at him, she softly giggled and nodded her head. “Yeah...that’d be nice, thanks.”

•

They had been sitting in his Audi, parked outside her house, chatting for a good five minutes. She glanced out of the passenger side window and glared slightly upon seeing the movement of a curtain in one of the living room windows. Clearing her throat, she shifted her attention back to Niall. “Thank you again for the ride,” she said to him, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Saved me from having to take the bus home at 11:30 at night.” 

“Of course, anytime,” he said, tipping his head over to the side as he slid his eyes down her body. He had been checking her out all night, Niall never being one to be shy about the fact, he knew and she knew, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to Cat. Licking over his lips, his stare slowly drifted over the suppleness of her exposed cleavage, his mind wandering back to the vivid memory of how her skin had tasted on his tongue. He swallowed hard as he shot his eyes back up to hers. “Cat, can I kiss you?” 

Cat’s fingers paused on the door handle, and she turned to look over at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you're asking,” she chortled. 

Niall leaned his head back on the headrest, his hooded eyes narrowing slightly as he smirked. “Well, ya do have a boyfriend…”

She pushed out a chuckle. “So, the only reason you're asking to kiss me, is because I have a boyfriend?”

He flicked his brow and she rolled her eyes, gathering her sweater and small bag as she opened the car door. “You’ve really not changed a bit,” she finished. 

“So that’s a no?” 

Stepping out of the car, Cat spun around and bent over, catching his stare. “That’s a goodnight, Niall.” 

He smiled and nodded his head. “Guess, I’ll see ya at work on Monday, then.” 

“Guess you will,” she said with a soft smile, “but no special treatment, okay?” 

His mouth turned down as he lifted his head from the seat. “Can’t promise ya that,” he said, running the tip of his tongue across his lips. His eyes were darting heavily with hers, and Cat could have sworn she felt a drunken buzz quickly submerse her head. She felt dizzy every time he looked at her like that, with that intensity that only he knew how to do. She sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to settle herself. 

“Behave yourself, Niall.”

Quirking a brow, he gave her a low, thigh-clenching chuckle as he slipped his car into drive. “Sweet dreams, kitty cat.” 

Cat rolled her eyes, trying to bite away at the smile on her lips as she closed the passenger door and waved as he drove off. She watched the tail lights of his car disappear around the corner, before she let out a long, melodramatic sigh. Her mind was reeling with memories of him, how he talked to her, how he touched her, her body on fire even just being near him, but there was no way she was gonna let him in. Not again. 

Making her way into her house, Cat quietly shut the front door and looked up to see her little sister in the living room, hanging over the back of the couch as she curiously peered out of the large window. “Trina, what are you doing?” Cat asked, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Who was that?” Katrina questioned, hoping up off the couch and bounding over towards her older sister. 

Cat pulled in a breath, knowing her little sister was always the inquisitive one. And relentless about it too. “Just an old friend,” she told her, “someone I used to know a few years back.” 

Trina folded her arms over her chest. “He’s got a nice car.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat let out a laugh and reached out to teasingly ruffle Trina’s head. “Go to bed, child,” she muttered as she walked away.

“Hey!” the young girl huffed loudly in protest, smoothing her hair back down as she watched Cat sneak her way upstairs to her bedroom. “I’m not a child!”

•

Monday came a bit quicker than Cat had hoped, and while she was eager to get back to a steady job, she was also nervous about how her first day was going to go. It was always a bit difficult for her to make friends; she was reserved but head-strong, opinionated when it mattered and learned very fast to not take anyone’s bullshit. All of those qualities sometimes made her more of a loner than an approachable person. But she was willing to try her best to be more personable, hopefully make a few acquaintances as well. 

One person she knew she’d have no trouble winning over was Niall. And that was a whole other ballgame. 

By late morning, Cat had settled in nicely to her work environment. She had her own desk and computer, a little space of her own within the huge, monochromatic space of the office located on the 23rd floor. Her co-workers, at least the ones in the cubicles surrounding her, were all very nice and had already offered to take her out to lunch as a welcome. Cat happily accepted, choosing to leave the lunch she had brought with her in the break room refrigerator for another day. 

Even though Cat knew Niall’s office was actually on the next floor up, she wasn’t really surprised to see him strutting around her floor a few times already that morning. He hadn’t come up to her yet, Cat supposed he was heeding her words about not showing her any special treatment, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t caught his eye a few times as she peered over and saw him propped up against a cubicle wall, flirting away with a few of the ladies throughout the office. He was very charismatic, and annoyingly sexy, using his charms and his wit to entice as many sweet giggles and subtle arm touches as he could get. 

Maybe that was his plan, to flaunt himself in front of Cat, showing her just how desirable he was, how easily he could get any woman he wanted. As if she didn’t already know that, or expect it. Niall would be leaned down, whispering sweet nothings in their ears with high pitched giggles spilling from their mouths as his blue eyes stuck right on Cat. She’d shake her head in a chuckle and focus back on her work, but the gears were grinding hard in her head. She wondered, just out of pure curiosity, how many of the women in the office he actually had bedded. And how many of them had felt what she felt when with him. She sucked in a deep breath, mad at herself for even entertaining the thought, because what did it matter to her? It didn’t and it shouldn’t. 

Later that afternoon, waist deep in a coding error she was attempting to fix, a notification popped up on Cat’s computer that she had received an email. It was from Niall. She peeked around the short walls of her cubicle, wary of prying eyes before opening it. 

            Cat, 

  Please come see me in my office. 

   Niall Horan

   CEO

   Stomon Tech Limited

Her heart thumped loud in her chest as she read over it a few more times, just that one single sentence causing a frenzy inside her and she figured since he was her boss, there was no getting out of it. Maybe that was another one of his plans. 

She smiled at the thought–it was textbook Niall–as she stepped off the elevator and onto the 24th floor. The blonde at the desk nodded her through and she made her way down the hallway, following it straight to his unnecessarily large office. The walls were all constructed of the same thick glass as the rest of the office, his door as well and she could clearly see Niall sitting at his sleek jet black desk, jotting something down as she reached out and gently knocked. 

His eyes raised from the papers before him to see Cat standing outside his office door. Niall pulled in a deep breath and stood up, promptly waving her in. “Hello, Cat,” he greeted her as she stepped through the door and closed it. Niall held his hand out to one of the chairs that were lined up in front of his desk and she walked over, smiling at him as she sat down. 

“Hey, Niall.”

Her eyes stayed glued to him as he stepped around his desk and stood in front of her, casually slipping his hands into his pants pockets. Cat bit at her lip, realizing he was finally close enough for her to get a good whiff of his expensive cologne and she tried to hide the fact that it was nearly intoxicating. On top of that, he had on a perfectly fitted deep blue suit, that hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist like it was a second skin. And with his dark hair, soft and swept to the side and just a hint of a scruffy beard, he looked like a dream. She hated that she couldn’t get those irritating thoughts out of her mind. 

She shakily cleared her throat and watched as he tipped his head slightly. “Just wanted to see how your first day’s been goin’,” he said, peering down at her. Niall couldn't take his eyes off of her. Off of the low cut blouse she was wearing, off the soft curl of her hair that was brushing at her shoulder, off the tiny bit of flesh showing at her thigh where her legs were crossed. She shifted slightly in her chair from the burning heat of his gaze, and it caused her skirt to ride up just a bit more. Niall’s breath caught in his throat. It was like she was tempting him, even if she didn’t know it. 

“It’s been nice,” she told him, fully aware that his stare was sliding over her lap where her skirt had ridden up and then over her breasts before finally settling on her face. She smirked. Maybe she did like flirting with him. Just a little bit. “Went out to lunch with a few coworkers. But really all I was wondering about is when you were gonna come over and say hi to me.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“I mean, you were talking to everyone else…” 

Niall chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His chin tipped down slightly as he kept his stare on hers. “Were you jealous?”

“No,” Cat responded, shaking her head. “I have no reason to be, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Ah, yes the boyfriend,” Niall said, licking across his lips as he reached up and ran a hand through the side of his hair, “I forgot about him.” 

“I bet you did,” Cat scoffed. 

“I wanna take ya out, Cat,” Niall then said, “on a date.” 

She breathed out a smile. “I can’t do that, Niall.” His eyes were darting over hers, as if he was trying to lure her in, pull her into his little trap just as he had done before. That reckless, all-consuming arousing stare, the one that shook her to the core, that literally brought her to her knees. The one that she would fall asleep thinking about almost every night. And that was all she could think about. Him. How he had made her feel, how they felt together. How he had turned her world upside down that one unforgettable summer night, and she never thought she would ever see him again. And now all she was trying to do was fight it. Fight that feeling of wanting him. She had to fight it. She had to.

“And why can’t ya?” 

Cat sucked in a sharp breath, tilting her head to her shoulder. “Well, let’s see, for one, the whole boyfriend thing and for two,” she paused, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. Niall watched the tip of her tongue roll out across the pink-bitten skin of her lip and he swallowed hard. “...I don’t think that would look very good. I just started here and, well, ya know, favoritism and all.” 

“But ya are me favorite,” Niall bluntly stated with a smirk, quirking up his brow. 

Cat bowed her head in a bashful grin, bringing her fingers up to her lips. He really knew how to work her, that was for sure. “Okay, but I’m not trying to make enemies the first week I’m working here,” she explained, glancing back up at him, “if I went out with you, I don’t think the other ladies in the office would like me very much.” 

Niall furrowed his brow slightly and crossed his ankles as he rested his bum on the edge of his desk. “How so?”

“Niall, I’ve been here barely one day and have already heard them gossiping in the break room,” she told him, raising her brows. “And they all very much want to fuck you.” 

A loud laugh belted out past his lips, and he tipped his face down, hiding his pinched eyes behind his hand. “They’ve heard the rumors then,” he muttered between chuckles.

Cat’s brows twisted up. “What rumors are those?”

He brought his stare back to hers, slowly running his tongue over his lips. “You know first hand what those rumors are, kitty cat.” 

She could hardly breathe with his eyes on her like that, with his words floating in her head and she gently cleared her throat. “Yeah...well...they don’t know that,” she squeaked out. 

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve not told ‘em?”

“Niall, I barely know these people,” she spit out, “why would I tell them that we slept together one time four years ago?”

Stepping towards her, Niall curled his hands around the arms of the chair and leaned down, his face sitting flush with hers. Cat kept her eyes fixed on his, her mouth falling to a faint part as his warm breath seeped over her lips. He was so close she could almost taste him on her tongue and her eyes fluttered just from the thought. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen over his eyes, and Cat’s lungs were struggling to find air as a delicious smirk slid over his mouth. “ ‘cause, baby, the way I fuck is life changin’.”

His comment made Cat gasp, before she realized his obvious intentions with the remark and she breathed out a soft giggle instead, rolling her eyes. “You’re insane,” she mumbled, Niall chuckling at her response. He leaned up and stepped away, clearing his throat as he shuffled back behind his desk. Cat watched him for a moment, never having been around someone as bluntly cocky and intriguing as Niall, and she bit at her lip as he picked up a portfolio and began flipping through some pages. “How many of those girls have you actually slept with anyway?” she asked. 

Niall’s fingers stalled on the papers and he peered at her through the tops of his hooded eyes. “What, the girls who work for me?”

“Yeah…”

“None actually.” Her stare went wide at his answer, obviously surprised by it and he pinched an eye shut. “Don’t wanna mix business and pleasure and all that, you know…”

Cat tipped her face down in a laugh. “Right,” she said, glancing back up at him, “Niall, the forever chivalrous gentleman.”

Niall snorted out a laugh and dropped the portfolio back down on his desk. He glanced over her head before catching her stare again. “Reckon ya better get back to work now, Ms. Williams, or you’ll be havin’ lots of gossip to answer to in the break room the next time you’re there.” 

Her brows wrinkled. “Huh?”

Faintly nodding towards the glass wall behind her, Cat turned around in the chair to see a few nosy busy-bodies with their full attention planted on the two of them. She was bound to be the talk of the office break room after that. Cat huffed out a laugh as she looked back over at Niall, giving him a grin. Niall watched as she stood up from her seat and smoothed down her skirt. “We’ll chat later,” he told her.

She nodded, biting off her smile as she began to step away. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Horan.” 

He shot her a wink. “You too, Cat.” 

•

The next two weeks were surprisingly calm. Cat had settled nicely into work, and with her colleagues, better than she was expecting, and her interactions with Niall seemed to be more on the friendly side than him trying to flirt his way into her pants. To be honest, that confused her a bit. But she was always left confused and thrown off balance when it came to Niall. She had a hard time denying how much she wanted him, how he made her feel just by looking at her, but also knew that it would be disastrous if it ever happened again. She had to remain logical at all times around him, because God knows, he was extremely tempting and she had to fight within herself to not lose all sense of control. 

He had called her a couple times, again, just friendly conversation and light banter, but other than that, Cat really hadn’t seen too much of him at work. She was aware of a huge project deadline coming up, Niall telling her of the copious amounts of boring meetings he had been partaking in and even flying out to NYC for two days on business. She thought it was oddly sweet that he was keeping her in the loop, so to speak, of his schedule and his life, and they would often find themselves texting each other well into the night, just to say goodnight. 

Cat thought it was lovely that she could have real, thoughtful and intellectual conversations with him, because up until that point, even during the summer they had met, it had only been focused on one thing: sex. Not that she minded much. A man like him wanting a woman like her, it was flattering and it made her feel good, she definitely wasn’t going to deny that. She was just happy that her and Niall had moved into a more comfortable level in their growing friendship. Cat was happy to have him as her friend. 

It was an early Saturday afternoon, Cat was at home with her family, her mother and sister in the kitchen unpacking groceries that they had just picked up for the evening. Cat was in her bedroom finishing her laundry, and had just put away some of her folded t-shirts when her cell phone rang. Bumping the dresser drawer closed with her hip, she shuffled her bare feet over to her nightstand to grab her phone, checking the name that was highlighted across the screen. Niall. 

She breathed out a smile and answered, tucking the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she walked over to her closet and pulled out a few hangers. “Hey, you,” she greeted him as she made her way back towards her bed to hang up some of her dresses and pantsuits. 

“Hey, kitty cat, what ya doin’?”

She giggled. “Just some laundry,” she told him, “what are you doing?” 

“Uh, layin’ in me bed,” he told her, Cat noticing a softness in his voice. “Naked. Thinkin’ ‘bout you.” 

Cat rolled her eyes in a snort. “So...just a normal day then, huh?” 

A deep laugh rumbled from his end of the line. “I was wonderin’ if maybe ya wanna go out with me tonight?” he then asked, pausing for a moment to clear his throat before he continued. “Just as friends. Been so busy with work lately, we haven’t hung out and I miss seein’ ya.” 

Cat bit at her bottom lip, her cheeks running warm as she stepped back over to her closet to hook her clothes up on the rack. “I don’t know, Niall,” she hummed out, darting her stare around her room and realizing she had left her water bottle downstairs. “My mom has this whole family dinner thing planned for my Dad’s birthday tonight and it would be kinda rude for me to just bail.”

Bouncing down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother and sister were still putting groceries away, she held the phone to her ear and snatched her water bottle off of the counter just as Katrina had opened the cupboard above her head. Trina shot her a look, and Cat stuck her tongue out at her. “Hmm...okay, well, maybe tomorrow then? Are ya free?” 

“I should be,” Cat huffed out as she refilled her bottle, her eyes studying the clear stream of water filtering into the metal flask, “what did you wanna do, anyway?” 

Niall had started to mumble something, when Cat’s mom looked over at her. “Who’s that?” she nosily asked. 

“It's that guy with the really nice car, isn’t it?” Trina interjected.

Cat’s eyes went big at her little sister as Niall continued to talk into her ear, and she set the water bottle down and smushed her hand over the bottom of the phone. “Shh!” she snapped back, shifting her eyes from her sister to her mom. “Just...a friend.” 

“Who?” 

A distinguishable quiet had settled on the end of the line before the young woman heard a faint ‘Cat?’ in a low, husky voice. She held up her finger to her mom and put her attention back to Niall. “Yeah, I’m here, sorry my mom was saying something to me. Can you hold for, like, one second?” 

“Yeah, sure.”

Blocking the end of her phone again with her palm, she playfully glared over at Trina before pushing out a sigh. “Just this guy, Niall. I met him a few years ago before I left for college and, weirdly enough, he's now my boss.” 

Trina rounded her lips. “Oooh.” 

“Your boss?” her mother repeated, opening the fridge to set a gallon of milk inside. “Well, Cat, you should invite him over for dinner tonight!” 

“Mom, it’s Dad’s birthday,” she questioned, wrinkling her brow, “And I thought it was just ‘family’ anyway...” 

The older woman waved off her daughter with a huff, turning to gather up the reusable shopping bags from the countertop. “Please, you know your father would love to meet your boss, Cat, birthday or not. And he's your friend. Invite him over.” 

Cat’s heartbeat picked up in her chest, so much so that it was like a heavy bass drum in the back of her ears steadily getting louder as her palms started to sweat. It was obnoxious. She curled her fingers tighter around her phone as she silently shot her stare between her mom and her sister, who had a very smug grin plastered over her lips. “....alright,” she gingerly sighed out, bringing her phone back up to her ear. “Niall?” 

“Yup?”

“Hey, so, um…” Cat paused, bowing her head down and anxiously scratching across the skin of her forehead, “weird question, I guess, but would you, maybe...like to come over to my house for dinner tonight?” 

“With your family?” 

“Yeah.” 

Scraping her teeth over her bottom lip, two sets of curious eyes were glued to her, waiting in as much anticipation as Cat was for Niall’s answer. She heard a short chuckle bleed into her ear before Niall pulled in a deep breath. “Sure, I’d love to.” 

•

Niall was standing on her front stoop, knocking at her door only a mere few hours later. Not really sure why she felt so nervous, her belly tying into knots as she had been getting ready and her heart thumping along with the ticking of the clock as it counted down to when he was supposed to arrive. But the second she opened the door, the second his stunning ocean blue eyes met hers, it all faded away. He looked gorgeous, as he always did; a fitted pressed dark pair of trousers topped with a silky patterned button up short sleeve shirt, it was undone slightly at the top, just enough to showcase that gold necklace that hung around his neck. Niall smiled at Cat as she invited him in. 

His eyes danced over her body as he stepped through the door, seeing her in a pair of tight jeans and slightly fitted top, she hadn’t dressed sexy, it was her Dad’s birthday after all, but Niall thought she looked amazing. He liked seeing her in a more casual look, different then how he had seen her at work. He noticed right away that her hair, usually down and sitting just below her shoulders, was pulled back into a high ponytail and for a moment, he was transported back to summer camp. Back to that first time that he saw her. Standing amongst the other counselors, listening to the director spout out the camp rules and whatnot, but even then, Niall’s full attention was on Cat. She looked absolutely beautiful, just like every time he had laid eyes on her since. 

Smiling back at him, her parents had made their way into the small foyer, eager to meet the mystery boss-friend with the super nice car. Cat introduced him, Niall having brought her father a bottle of extremely expensive Irish whiskey as a gift, and she stood off to the side as he engaged her parents in polite small talk. He was very impressive to watch–Cat finding herself sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he freely chatted and laughed along with her parents. His charisma even snagged her old, rigid dad and his cheekiness made her mother blush a shade of pink Cat had rarely seen. 

“And this is my sister, Katrina,” she said to Niall, pointing at her little sister who had just emerged from the living room as her parents made their way back into the kitchen to finish up dinner. 

The young girl popped her gum in her mouth as she gave Niall an apathetic wave. “Everyone calls me Trina.” 

“Nice to meet ya, Trina,” Niall greeted her with a nod. 

Perching her hands on her hips, Trina narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Niall. Her stare slid down his frame and then back up before she tipped her chin in a smile. “You’re smokin’ hot.” 

“Trina! Jesus,” Cat snipped, furrowing her brows as Niall chuckled. She grabbed around Niall’s bicep and he moved his attention to her. “I’m sorry, she’s just–”

“Spitting facts?” Trina raised her brows. 

Cat glared at her sister and before she could respond with a growling rebuff, their mother called out from the kitchen. “Trina, behave yourself!” Rolling her eyes in a displeased huff, the teenager spun around on her socked heels and slumped back into the living room without another word. 

Niall licked across his lips, fighting off his inevitable snickering as he looked over at Cat. “She’s cute,” he told her, quirking a brow.

“She’s fifteen,” Cat shot back. 

“I can tell,” he snorted, “she’s still funny, though.” 

“You’re only saying that because she said you were hot.” 

“Uh, smokin’ hot,” Niall corrected, cocking his head to the side. “Would’ve rather you been the one sayin’ it though...”

Cat giggled. “Keep dreaming, Niall.” 

“Ya just keep breakin’ me heart, Cat,” Niall mumbled out, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest. “Jesus…”

Her eyes pinched shut in a laugh before she reached out and grabbed Niall’s hand. “C’mon,” she said, pulling him after her, “I’ll show you around a bit.”

After leading him through the downstairs area, Cat took Niall upstairs and into her bedroom. She didn’t really think much of it when he was trailing behind her up the stairs, their hands still loosely entangled with the heat of his skin melting into hers. It felt natural to her, so much so that she had forgotten that she was even holding his hand that whole time until they stepped into her room. “So, this is it,” Cat said, her fingers slowly sliding from his as he brushed past her and further into her bedroom. 

Niall stood near the side of her bed with his hands hooked on his hips, his stare floating across the small bedroom; from the posters still hung up on her walls to the shelves of academic trophies and awards she had acquired throughout school. Cat crossed her arms over her chest, gnawing on her lip as she kept her eyes glued to him. He had faced himself away from her, studying some old pictures of Cat and her friends from high school that were pinned up on her wall, and she let her gaze drag down the length of his frame. His shoulders were wide under the thin material of his shirt, his back broad, a lot broader than she had remembered, and his waist slim, but it was the deliciously supple curve of his ass that forced Cat to draw in a jittery breath. He had such a nice body, toned but soft in all the right places and her eyes fluttered as the memories of how he felt on top of her, pushing himself inside her, came rushing like an unstoppable flood back into her head. 

Her eyelids were pressed closed, enjoying her dirty thoughts, when Niall had unknowingly turned around to get her attention. He smiled to himself upon seeing how pretty Cat looked with her head tipped to the side and her bottom lip sucked into her mouth. He cleared his throat and her eyes popped open, met with a cocky grin. She froze. “This looks familiar…” he said to her, his brows raising as he held up a grey snapback that had been slung over the front bedpost of her bed. 

She smiled at him. “It should. You gave it to me.” 

Niall flicked the hat in his hand as he peered down at it, the very tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. “I know, I remember,” he mumbled, wiggling the hat down on his head. Her stare went glassy, widening slightly as she peered over at him, struck with how much he looked like he used to once that hat was back on him and she struggled to find a solid breath. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk. “Bring back any memories?” 

It did. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. 

Dropping her hands at her sides, Cat slowly stepped around the end of her bed and came up flush to him. His hooded gaze was fixated on her, holding tight to every movement, as she leaned herself in close to him, so close that Niall could feel the tiny wisps of her hot breath against the front of his neck. It made his stomach twist. His mouth parted slightly as she rose to her tiptoes, his blue eyes darting wild over hers and there was a hint of a devilish smirk pulling at her lips as she inched closer and closer, her warm body practically on top of his. 

And as quick as Cat had pressed flush to him, she just as quickly reached up and snatched the hat off of Niall’s head. She leaned past him slightly as she flung the hat back onto the bedpost where it belonged. “It’s still mine,” she claimed, raising her brow. 

His stare hadn’t left hers, it couldn’t even if he had wanted it to and Niall turned his mouth down at her, fully impressed that he had fallen for that little game she had just played. She grinned at him, pleased with herself and it made Niall’s chest ache with how cute she looked. “It’s still yours,” he assured softly, giving her one single nod. 

Cat tilted her face down, hiding the flush that had invaded her cheeks as Niall moved his eyes beside her. “So this is where you sleep?” he asked, pointing to the bed.

“Well, that sounds creepy,” she mentioned with a giggle. 

Niall laughed. “Just tryin’ to get a feel for the place.” 

“Oh, right,” she scoffed, plopping her bottom down on the side of the bed. “Yup, this is my bed. Same one since I was, like...twelve.” 

Sitting himself down next to her, Niall carded his hand through his hair as he turned his head to catch her stare. “Should I be jealous?” 

“Of what?” Cat asked, wrinkling her brows.

Niall peeked over his shoulder at her yellow daisy printed comforter. “All the people that have gotten to sleep with you in this very spot.” 

Cat rolled her eyes before meeting his stare again. “Niall, we’ve had sex before so, no, you shouldn’t be jealous and to be honest, besides that, there’s nothing to be jealous of…” 

His brows pulled in. “You tellin’ me you’ve never had sex in this bed?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she huffed, glancing down at her lap. “I’ve never even had a boy in this room before.” 

Niall clicked his tongue in his mouth. “So I’m your first…”

“Weird way of putting it,” Cat replied with a soft giggle, peering over at him, “but yes.” 

Leaning in towards her, the air stifled in the back of Cat’s throat as she felt his hot, silky breath spill over the slope of her neck. It made her eyes flutter, and she fought back a whimper when the tip of his nose just barely brushed along her jaw. His large palm was resting at her lower back, ever so faintly and she swallowed hard and stayed still, not daring to move an inch as Niall hungrily licked across his lips. “We can add another first to the list if ya want…” 

Slowly turning her head to look over at him, she caught his hooded stare. She struggled to find her words. “Are you, um…are you propositioning me, Mr. Horan?” Cat whispered, darting her eyes with his. Her chest was rising high with her quick, unruly breaths, her fingers curling into the thick blanket on both sides of her knees. Niall lifted his shoulder in a shrug, his brow quirking up. The darkness in his eyes was filling Cat’s belly with a fire that was proving hard to fight off, and she scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “With my parents right downstairs?”

“Makes it even hotter,” he confidently said with a wink.

Cat let out a groan and playfully pushed him away with a nudge of her shoulder. “You’re filthy,” she told him, shaking her head as she stood up. 

Niall belted out a laugh, looking up at her. “Mmm, well, we both know that’s how ya like it.”  

With her eyes going big, her pouty lips fell to a part and Niall smirked proudly at her reaction. All she could do was let the dizziness fill her head, flustered every time he even so much as caught her stare as Niall reached out and gently grabbed her hand. Her knees wanted to crumble beneath her, her body wanting to let go as his thumb rubbed tiny circles over her skin. She slowly lifted her gaze back to his, her breaths stunted in her lungs, just as her father called them down to dinner. 

Cat squeezed her eyes closed for a split second as Niall stood up right in front of her. His intoxicating scent filled her nose and she let her gaze drift up from his chest to his blue eyes. “Saved by the bell, huh, kitty cat?” 

Pressing her lips in a line, she tipped her chin up, determined to not let him get the best of her. “It’s not like I was considering it.” 

A smug smirk tugged at the edge of Niall’s lips and he lightly placed his hand to Cat’s waist, his fingertips pushing in slightly. “Oh, baby, you were definitely considerin’ it,” he whispered, his voice low and rough in his throat. A pulsing heat coursed through her entire body, from her head to her toes, itching over her skin and pooling between her thighs. Licking across his lips, Niall quirked his brow as he quietly stepped away, slowly letting his fingertips drag down the curve of her hip. 

Watching as he sauntered out of her bedroom, Cat pushed out a heavy, choppy breath and reached up to rub across her dampened forehead. She didn’t even realize she had started to sweat, just from that short interaction and she swallowed hard before shaking her head and following him out of the room. 

She hated that he could still, without question, cause that kind of reaction in her.

•

After an uneventful, yet really good dinner followed by some delicious homemade birthday cake, Cat and Niall found themselves sitting out on the steps of her small front stoop. The sun had long set, just the street lamps casting a yellow glow along the road and the porch light shining onto their backs. Niall had his arms resting on his bent knees, sipping on a bottle of beer that Cat’s father had graciously offered him. Peering over at him, her eyes trailed the long slope of his throat as he tipped his head back to take a gulp. She pulled in a deep breath, hugging her arms tighter around her middle. 

“So,” she began, shifting her eyes back out into the dark of the street, “is owning a tech company something you always wanted to do?” 

Niall had just finished another sip of his beer and he chuckled as he licked his lips. “No, not really,” he admitted. “I mean, I knew I was gonna own a company one day, my dad owned a company, and I don’t have a business degree for nothin’, but...tech wasn’t really somethin’ I was ever super into, ya know?” He shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess.” 

Cat peeked over at him, resting her chin on the round of her shoulder. “So it was…easy for you.”

“An easy choice?” he repeated, catching her stare. “Yeah, I had the money, I had the resources.” 

Cat chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she drifted her eyes along the chain link fence that enclosed her tiny front yard. “What?” Niall asked. 

“Nothing,” she replied, “just...crazy how shit always comes so easy for you. Wish I had a little bit of that.” 

“Shit doesn’t always come easy for me,” Niall scoffed.

Rolling her stare over to him, Cat snorted. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

Niall licked over his lips. “You.” 

“Me?” she huffed, wrinkling her brow, “you never had to try hard in that department, Niall.” 

With his mouth falling to a part, Niall pushed out a low huff. “Are ya kiddin’ me? I’ve never had to work so hard for a second go in me life.” 

Cat groaned and reached out, snatching the beer bottle from his hands and promptly taking a sip. “You deserve a challenge once in a while.” 

Niall chuckled and leaned towards her, his eyes stuck on hers. “If you think for one second that I’m not up for it, baby, you’re bloody fuckin’ wrong…” 

Her heart nearly skipped a solid beat as she pushed out a soft chuckle. “Charming.” 

Niall threw his head back in a laugh before hoisting himself up. He turned around and stood in front of her at the bottom of the steps. Cat bit at her lip as she looked up at him, noticing a smirk pulling at his mouth as he leaned on the handrail. “I wanna take ya somewhere,” he then blurted out. 

“Like...now?” 

“No, this weekend,” Niall chuckled. 

Cat dropped her gaze to the ground under his feet and swallowed hard. “ Where do you wanna take me?” she asked, glancing back up at him. 

“I’m not tellin’ ya,” he said, raising his brows, “it’s part of the surprise. It won’t be for the whole weekend, just Saturday. It’s not too long of a drive.” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Cat took another sip of the beer and tucked her lips into her mouth. She stayed quiet, studying his features as he turned his face slightly and peered down at her through the corners of his eyes. Niall wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or what her answer was going to be, but he was hopeful. “What do’ya say?” 

Pulling in a deep breath, Cat set the empty beer bottle down next to her. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Baby, you always have a choice,” he replied, cocking his head back slightly. 

Cat dipped her head down in a smile. “Okay, fine,” she said as she looked back at him, “but we're only going as friends. Nothing is gonna happen.” 

“Of course,” he smirked, “would ya expect anythin’ less of me, kitty cat?” 

Her brows raised. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Niall pointed a finger at her. “No.” He watched as Cat’s head softly rolled back to her shoulders in a laugh, her eyes squeezing shut and he couldn’t help but smile as the pretty sound slipped past her lips. She was perfect. “Alright then,” Niall went on as Cat caught her breath, “I’m gonna head out, but, um...thanks for havin’ me over. It was lovely. I had fun spendin’ time with you.” 

Cat chewed at her bottom lip as she darted her eyes over his, hugging her arms around her middle once again. “Yeah, it was...surprisingly nice. I really enjoyed it. Thanks for coming.” 

Fishing his car keys out of his front pocket, a tiny breath hitched in Cat’s chest as Niall leaned down and pushed a tender kiss to her cheek. “Sweet dreams, petal,” he whispered, the warmth of his lips lingering on her skin. It was one of the sweetest, softest moments she had ever experienced. And it was coming from Niall. 

Her eyes fluttered open when he stepped back, a smile on his face as he spun around and made his way to his car. Cat watched with a dreamy haze in her eyes, curiosity bounding to her fingertips and an ache befalling her chest as he hopped in his car and drove off. She sat on that top step of her stoop, head cupped in her hands and a million thoughts pouring through her mind for what seemed like ages. 

What was she getting herself into? And more importantly...after all these years, why did she still want him so bad?

•

It was hard for Cat not to think about Niall over the following week, the nonstop, and frankly, obscene cataclysm he created inside her and how confused it made her feel. It was also hard for Cat to hide how excited she was for whatever Niall had planned for that weekend. She tried telling herself that it meant nothing, he was just doing what Niall did and did well; seduce and concur and that it would be no different this time around, but the thoughts of how much she wanted to be with him, wanted to feel him, wanted to kiss him and touch him and taste him again, how much she wanted to just be with him, kept creeping into the back of her mind. 

Part of her, an incredibly hard to ignore part, didn’t care that Niall was a self-proclaimed womanizer, at least to her knowledge, and all she wanted was to have him. To let herself feel what she had always felt for him, without hesitation or worry, without a second thought. To let him care about her…love her. She knew without a doubt that Niall would treat her well, that he would be good to her, but there was always that inkling of what if. What if she let herself give into him again and he didn’t want anything more than that. What if she succumbed to those physical primal needs that itched across her skin every time he was near, and that indescribable longing in her heart she couldn’t hide from and it turned out that he didn’t feel that same way about her. What if she fell for him, really fell for him, and in the end...he didn’t want her anymore. 

That was what Cat couldn’t shake from her mind. The fear of him not feeling for her the way she knew, deep down, she really felt for him. 

Niall picked her up at her house around 3 that Saturday afternoon. Cat was beside herself; she was nervous, but excited, giddy like a teenager going out on her first date, and if anyone would have asked her why she was feeling all of those things, she really could not have given them a straight answer. Apart from the fact that it was mainly because of Niall. Being around him made her feel exuberant and alive, he made her feel sexy and alluring. He made her feel important and wanted. He made her feel 18 all over again, but more mature, more in control. And as hard as he tried, as much as he used his charms and his flirtatious ways on her, it was clear that she was the one in control this time. She was the one who was holding him like putty in her hand. And that simple fact made her feel more powerful than she had ever felt before. 

He refused to discuss where they were headed as they drove, just telling her that it wasn’t very far away, but Cat was more than eager to find out what the big surprise was. She had worried for a moment while getting ready that she was overdressed, a light breezy yellow sundress and pair of low open-toed sandals, but Niall immediately complimented her outfit as he met her at her front door and that quickly reassured her. He was also dressed quite freely with a linen short sleeve button down and a pair of fitted twill trousers, Cat smiling as she looked him over, making sure to tell him that he looked nice as well. 

The late afternoon sun was bright, strings of gold streaming in through the car windows and Cat peered over at Niall as he sat buckled in the driver's seat. Her eyes tenderly fawned down his profile, engrossed in the perfectly sharp slope of his nose and the tiny pout of his lips. His beard was grown in heavy, his dark brown hair styled softly and over to the side, and she couldn’t see his eyes underneath his sunglasses but she knew they were just as blue, just as gorgeous and dreamy as they had always been. The thought made her smile and without thinking, she reached over and gently ran her fingers through the side swept part of his hair, right over his ear. 

Niall slowly glanced over at her, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth and Cat stared at him as she retracted her hand and rested it back into her lap. “Sorry,” she muttered, flinging her face forward as she peered down at her hands, “couldn’t...help myself.” 

A chuckle left Niall’s lips and she felt the faintest brush of his fingertips over her temple and then carding delicately through her hair. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

Her eyes flew over to his. “So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” 

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. Cat’s stare slipped down the length of his arm that was gripped onto the steering wheel. The sun’s rays glimmered across the silver metal of his watch and it made her eyes squint. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did that.” 

“I’m much more surprised you didn’t blindfold me,” she chuckled. 

Niall’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at her words and he shot his eyes over to her. “I can definitely do that if ya want,” he said, voice deep in his throat. 

Cat smiled, biting at her lip as she turned her head to peer out of her window. “Maybe later…” 

Fluttering his eyes under the guise of his sunglasses, Niall blew out a heavy breath and licked across his lips. He was trying so hard to control himself around Cat, to not be who she had this perception of him to be, and he folded his fingers into a fist on his thigh as he continued to drive. “Not much longer,” he said aloud. 

•

The second they turned down the tree-lined dirt road, Cat knew exactly where they were. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward, staring up through the windshield as they passed under the old wooden sign: Camp Sparrow. It had been years since she had been back, four years to be exact, and she breathed out a smile, glancing over at Niall. He quirked his brows at her as they slowly drove down the winding lane of dirt and rocks towards the front office of the camp. “I can’t believe you,” Cat whispered, mainly to herself but Niall heard her loud and clear and he dipped his chin down in a big smile, a pink hue blushing his cheeks. 

Coming to a stop in the same exact place that Cat had watched Niall leave that very summer, the two of them climbed out of the car, Niall grabbing a cloth bag and blanket from the back seat. It was clear that the camp was no longer a functioning summer camp; the grass somewhat overgrown and the wooden buildings a bit worn down, but as Cat peered around the large area, from the numbered cabins to the old dock that jutted out into the lake from the tiny beach area, it felt like nothing had changed. Niall had planned for them to have a picnic, some light food and wine and they spent the following couple hours sprawled out on the woolen blanket in the grass, staring off into the dark muddled water watching as the sun slowly set behind the trees. It was beautiful and quiet, serene and the two of them talked and laughed and reminisced about their past summer together. Cat felt good, she felt happy and she peeked over at Niall, catching the cute lopsided smirk on his face and it made a warmth flutter in her tummy. 

Niall was just happy to see Cat happy, it made his heart pound in his chest to hear her soft laugh and see her bright smile. He knew bringing her back to that place was exactly what they needed, what he needed to show her just how he felt about her. Taking one last sip of wine as the sun had just dipped below the treeline across the lake, Niall dusted off his palms as he stood up. 

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand to her. Cat tipped her head back to look up at him, biting at her lip. Sliding her hand into his, Niall gently pulled her up to her feet and slowly began to lead them out towards the lake. Cat’s heart was lashing against her ribcage, heavy and fast as her fingers tightened around Niall’s. His skin was blistering hot, but felt soft pressed to her own, and she thought for a moment that she would be content to stay like that with him. But she also thought that everything that was happening, all that she was feeling was just some kind of fever dream, something that could never really be and she pulled in a jittery sigh just as their bare feet hit the cool white sand of the tiny man-made beach. 

Niall’s fingers eased away from hers and he slipped his hands in the front pockets of his pants. Cat chewed lightly at her bottom lip, unsure as to why he had let her hand go and she crossed her arms over her chest. They stood there reveling in the peaceful silence, stares drowning in the little ripples of water that floated by from the tepid breeze before she cleared her throat. There was something on her mind that she had to get out. “Niall?” she said, her voice meek and nearly carried away by the soft lapping of the water on the shore. 

“Yeah?” He had turned his face to look over at her, Cat’s gaze watching the silhouette of a bird coasting above the tree line.  

She sucked back a sharp breath, peeking down at her painted toes as they curled into the cold sand. “Why did you bring me here?” 

He remained quiet for a moment, her question hanging idle in the air as he gathered his thoughts. “I don’t know,” Niall shrugged, “I guess, I thought that maybe...bein’ here again, seein’ the lake and the cabins and shit, that it would, ya know...spark somethin’ in ya. Memories. About me. About...us.” 

Cat hastily ran her tongue over her lips as she kicked her toes in the sand. “There never really was an us, Niall,” she stated, chuckling lightly, “I mean, we flirted for a few weeks, slept together once...then went back to our normal lives. If anything, I’d say it was just...a summer fling.” 

Niall shifted his stare downwards, rolling his lips into his mouth as he nodded his head. “So I didn’t mean anythin’ to ya, then.” 

Shooting her eyes over to him, she furrowed her brow. “No, I didn’t say that–” 

“Because I know I made ya feel good,” he spit out, aggravation clear in his voice as he caught her stare, “didn’t I?” 

Cat swallowed hard. She couldn’t lie to him, not about that. “Yeah,” she said softly. 

“You liked the way I fucked ya.” 

His words, so deliberate and suggestive in their intention as they floated off his tongue, made her chest feel heavy, like a ton of bricks smashing her down as her breaths stuck thick to the back of her throat. But she still couldn’t lie to him. “Yeah…” 

Niall turned his broad shoulders as he faced her, his brow raised. “The guy you’re with now, does he fuck you like that?” He paused and licked across his lips, his chest swelling with his rapid breaths. “Does he fuck ya like he needs ya, like he can’t get enough of ya? Like he owns ya?” 

Cat’s lips parted as she struggled to find the words, any words and she gingerly shook her head. Honesty was all she could muster as she darted her stare with his. “You’re the only person who’s ever fucked me like that,” she said, her tone subdued, “who’s ever made me...feel like that…” 

“That’s what I thought,” Niall huffed out. 

She rolled her eyes at his callous attitude and pushed out a heavy breath. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Niall?” 

“Not much, kitty cat,” he lightly scoffed, “ ‘cept I’m richer now and I fuck even better.” 

His joke, if that was what he was trying to intend, made Cat sigh out loud. “And it seems like you’re even more full of yourself,” she said. 

Niall smirked at her. “You used to be into that.” 

“Yeah, well...it worked,” she snapped, moving her gaze back out to the calmness of the water. “Four years ago.” 

Niall’s eyes narrowed and he yanked his hands from his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. Licking across his lips, his eyes studied over Cat; the light flutter of her eyelashes and tiny upturned pout of her mouth, watching as a slight breeze swept a few strands of her hair over her cheek. She reached up and tucked it behind her ear. She was so hauntingly beautiful, it made his chest ache to even look at her, but she consistently left Niall stumped. He didn’t know what to do or say around her, he didn’t know how to pursue her. How to make her want him as much as she had four years ago. As much as he wanted her. But he was determined to find out. “So tell me then, what works now?”

Cat slowly peered back over at him. “You, Niall,” she told him blankly, “just be you.” 

“This is me–”

“No,” she choked out a laugh, shaking her head, “it's not. It's not the real you. Niall, you’re sweet and caring, and sensual and fun. But this? This is you when you’ve got one thing on your mind. When all you wanna do is sleep with somebody, when you’re on the chase.” 

Cat watched his eyes narrow, listening as she went on. “And I’m not saying I don’t like when you talk dirty to me or...flirt so shamelessly and try so hard to get me into bed, I do, but the chase is over...you’ve already fucked me.” 

He cocked his head back. “And what if I wanna fuck you again?” 

“Maybe…” Cat paused and sucked in a shaky breath. His eyes fixated on hers, the intensity causing a ripple of heat to glide over her skin, tiny goosebumps shedding its path. “Maybe you just don’t need to try so hard this time.” 

Niall tipped his head back to his shoulders in a low, frustrated groan, rubbing his palms down the front of his face. Perching his hands on his hips, a dumbfounded chuckle broke under his breath as he looked back over at her. 

“What?” she questioned, wrinkling her brow. 

“I don’t even fuckin’ know anymore,” he snorted, “you make me-...fuck, you make so confused, Cat. It completely fucks with me head, ya know? I feel so different when I’m around you, I always have. And I knew from the first time I saw ya, that first day at summer camp four years ago, that I had to have ya.” 

He paused, licking across his lips. “But it’s like...I don’t even know how to act around ya,” he told her, scratching through his scruffy beard. “The things I’d normally say, what I’d normally do. I flirt with ya, I do everythin’ I can to get ya to want me but, ya just...ya don’t fall for any of me shit. I don’t know what else to do.” 

Cat’s eyes pinched shut in a soft snicker, her head rolling to her shoulder. “I do fall for your shit, Niall,” she confessed, glancing back over at him. “I have...I am.” 

His brows shot up. “You are?”

Biting at her lip, Cat tried to tame back her emerging smile. “I mean, as much as I’d like to say no, that none of your usual shit is working on me, I’m here...right now with you, Niall,” she said softly, “and...I could never lie to you about that.”

Niall gingerly nodded his head, “Okay,” he spoke up, a confidant smirk sliding over his lips, “so if that’s how ya feel, what would you say if I told you that I wanted to lay ya down right here...and fuck ya like you’ve never been fucked before...” 

A breath stalled in Cat’s throat and her eyes fluttered as she peered over the ground at their feet. “Well,” she gently mewed, “I would say that I’d rather not like to have sand in my bits while you’re fucking me, so maybe we can find a hotel nearby instead?” 

Niall took her words, as salaciously as they had left her lips, as a joke and he dropped his forehead into the cup of his hand in a rowdy laugh. Raising his eyes back to hers in a sigh, he noticed that she wasn’t laughing, or smiling along with him. Just...staring at him. His eyes narrowed as he settled himself and he swallowed hard. “You’re serious. You really want me to fuck ya, don’t ya...”

It came out more of a statement than a question in that gritty accent of his, dripping over Cat’s ears like warm honey, sticky and thick, begging to be licked. Her fingers curled into her palms, an unstoppable heat coursing through her body as she sank her teeth down into her bottom lip. She tried to smile at him, tried to conjure up the nerve to be flippant with the lewd words floating in her head, but she couldn’t even settle the uneven pounding of her heart. It was too much. He was too much. “Honestly, Niall,” she said, turning towards him, “there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by these last four years that I haven’t wanted you to fuck me again.” 

Cat barely had time to react before Niall had stepped up flush to her, cradling her face in his big hands. The blistering heat from his palms seared into her soft skin and she lightly gasped as he slowly slid the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt about hearin’ those words come out of this pretty little mouth.” 

Her eyes fluttered and she swallowed hard, eager to play his game. “Should I say them again?” Cat teased. 

Niall smirked and leaned in closer, his lips just ghosting over hers. His breath, hot and silky, spilled out over her lips and she eased her hands up, splaying them at his sides. His hooded eyes darted fast with hers, a recklessness fading into the dark and she struggled to properly inhale. He was too intoxicating, too overwhelming but she wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could feel it swirling in her lower belly and taste it tingling on her tongue. And that was all it took. 

“I...want you...to fuck me…” 

A seedy growl edged from Niall’s throat at Cat’s words and she felt his body tense up under the press of her palms. His chest was heaving, rising high against hers as his lips brushed at the corner of her mouth. “Can I kiss you now?” 

Cat’s eyes fell closed at his sweetness and a hint of a smile tugged at her parted lips as she raised just a bit to her tiptoes. “Yes…please...” 

Niall pushed his mouth to hers, kissing her deep and full, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth. Cat whined out as she kissed him back, harder and with more vigor than she knew she had in her. Niall brought that out in her, that greedy hunger, a hunger she needed to feed. To feel his lips on hers, to taste him on her tongue and swallow his warm breath, she didn’t even realize just how much she had missed him, missed feeling him, until it was happening. Her fingers twisted into the material of his shirt, yanking at it as she tugged his body even closer into her. His big hands held her face, his tongue curling over hers, and Cat felt as if she was going to float away if Niall hadn’t had her tethered so taut down against him. 

The heat was indescribable, the fieriness surging between their flesh sending both into an unyielding desire that neither had thought possible. She wanted him even more than she had years before, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. Niall had this need inside of him, an almost feral desire that only she could tame. She was his weakness, and he lavished the power she had over him. With her hands coming up and wrapping around his strong forearms, Niall nipped at her bottom lip as they left hers, a desperate gasp of air shared between the two. His darkened eyes only met hers for a second before he had grabbed her hand in his and began leading her back into the grassy area. 

Without a word spoken, they both hurriedly gathered their things and the remnants of their picnic and headed towards Niall’s parked car. Hopping in and closing the doors, Niall leaned his upper body almost all the way over into her seat, bringing Cat into a heated kiss once more, not being able to help himself. She ran her fingers up through his soft dark hair, twisting into the tiny ends as she urged his tongue into her mouth. Struggling to catch her breath as Niall kissed over her chin and down to her neck, Cat tipped her head back as he sucked along her throat. His thick fingers were tangled in the side of her hair, his tongue slinking over her exposed collarbone before she forced herself to inch away from him, his lips popping off her flushed skin. 

She was drowning in the gaze of his heavy lidded eyes and it took all she had in her to fight off the temptation to straddle him in his seat and fuck him right then and there. Niall swallowed hard as he stared at her. “We have to wait,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering as she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him into another kiss. “Not here.” 

Nodding his head as he reluctantly eased back, Niall wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand as he settled himself into the driver’s seat. He raked his fingers through his hair, a long drawn out breath huffing past his lips before he started up the car and took off. The ride back was torture, Niall’s big hand not leaving its claimed spot on her thigh, the pads of his fingers kneading into her silky skin as their eyes shot over to one another with each passing minute. He knew he needed her; needed to touch her, taste her, fuck her. Cat could barely hold herself together, her mind reeling with the thoughts of his touch and his kisses, her body aching to have him inside her and her stare stayed hooked on him as he drove, racing through the twists and turns of the back roads. 

After about twenty minutes, Cat had noticed that they had passed a few different motels and was perplexed on why he hadn’t bothered to stop at any of them. “Niall, where are we going?”

“I’m not fuckin’ you in a motel,” he bluntly said, his eyes on the road. 

Cat’s head toppled back to the seat rest and she ran her hand over his that was still clutched to her thigh. “You were gonna fuck me by the lake,” she reminded him, raising a brow. 

Niall peeked over at her, a seriousness written over his face. “Cat, I’ve waited four years to be inside ya again, I’m not wastin’ it on some cheap ass motel.” 

A shaky breath spilled past her lips as he flicked his eyes back to the road ahead, just the bluish beam of his headlights lighting their way. Biting at her bottom lip, Cat could feel herself aching for him, just the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, the way his touch felt on her skin, it was all more than she could take. She needed him inside her. Slowly tugging the bottom hem of her dress up her thighs, she spread her knees and with the guide of her fingers, eased Niall’s hand down between her legs. 

The car jerked slightly as Niall glanced over to her and was instantly captivated by the seductiveness in her eyes. A rabid heat pulsed through his veins from the soft, playful look on her face. Using the press of her fingertips, Cat kept her stare on Niall as she pushed his hand harder against her. His heart was pounding in his chest as he took her lead, carefully inching the middle of her panties over to slide his fingers along her warm, wet slit. Cat’s eyes fluttered closed, her head tipping back in a shallow gasp as Niall played with her, the pads of his fingertips swirling deliciously over her swollen clit. 

Her hips rolled gently against the seat as she held his hand right where she wanted him to be, coaxing him for more and more. It wasn’t long until he had two of his thick fingers pushing inside her and a barrage of whimpers and moans poured past her parted lips. Seeing Cat like that, rocking herself against his hand, completely at his mercy and falling apart just from his fingers inside her, was the sexiest thing Niall had ever witnessed. But there was no way he was going to let her finish. He was hard as rock in his pants, throbbing with his need for her, and he continued to work her, fingering her and teasing her clit until he knew she was right there, right about to spill over that blissful edge before he yanked his hand away. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in a shattered gasp, her body trembling from the loss of his touch as she cupped her hand between her legs. Her chest heaved as she strained to catch her breath and she peeled open her eyes to glare over at him, seeing a half smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so close,” she breathed out. 

“I know,” he told her, licking over his lips, “but you’re not allowed to come yet.” He had done it on purpose, bringing her so close and then ripping it away like she was a bad girl being punished and she huffed out an annoyed groan, clamping her thighs together to ease the vibration of her core as she turned her attention out of the passenger window. 

Niall chuckled at her reaction and adjusted himself in his pants as they continued their way back into the city.

•

They made it back to his place, the penthouse of the most luxurious condo building downtown, of course, in nearly record time. His mouth on hers as soon as the doors to the elevator slid closed behind them, her fingers cupped around the back of his neck as his hands slipped up under her dress. Cat gasped for air as his lips left hers when the elevator finally made it to his floor, opening right at his front door. She had soaked all the way through her panties by that point, and it took her a moment to gather herself as he shuffled off the elevator and over to his front door. Stepping up behind him, Cat raised to her tiptoes and slid her hands around his waist as her wet mouth attached to the side of his neck. Niall was fumbling with his keys, cursing lightly under his breath as he was more than desperate to get the girl inside his apartment. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, attempting to turn the lock. Cat giggled against his neck, pleased with his reaction and her eyes watched his fingers shake as he continued to struggle. Burying her nose into the side of his throat, his skin was tepid and salty on her tongue and she hummed faintly as her small hand ran down the front of his body. Niall choked back a breath as he felt Cat palm him on the outside of his pants. 

She smiled to herself, feeling just how swollen he was for her already as she wrapped her fingers around his length. Swallowing hard, Niall finally clicked the door open, but he froze, slowly turning his face to catch her stare. She was still feeling at him, his cock pulsing against the curve of her palm and he smirked. “You want it, don’t ya?” 

Cat pushed the tip of her tongue to her teeth, the pads of her fingers roughly tracing down the length of him. “It’s still mine.” 

“It’s still yours,” he breathed out. 

Tugging Cat in front of him by her wrist, Niall cradled her face and pushed his mouth to hers in another deep kiss, leading them through the doorway and into his place. The front door eased closed and Niall had her slammed up against it, his hips rudding into hers as his tongue swept past her lips. Cat mewed against his mouth, her body vibrating with the yearning to feel him inside her and she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself harder into him. Breaking the kiss, Cat strained to catch her breath but kept her parted lips brushing at his. Niall had his hand up under her dress again, hooking her thigh at his hip as he groped roughly at her backside. “Not here,” she whispered, eyes pinching closed in a low gasp as his fingers desperately clawed at the soft, meaty flesh. A disjointed whimper spilled out of her mouth. “Your bedroom.” 

Niall faintly chuckled and clasped his hands around her waist, easily hoisting her up. Cat threw her head back in a squeal and locked her heels around his bum. Her mouth was back on his a second later, eager to swallow his hot breath as he walked them to his bedroom. His strong arms were wrapped around her waist, his fingers digging into the thin material of her sundress at her lower back and pulling frantically at the fabric. Holding her hands around the sides of his face, Cat playfully nipped at his bottom lip and rolled her tongue into his mouth in a heated whine. The sound sent shivers down his spine.

As Niall entered the bedroom, the lights low with just the bright glow of the full moon cascading in from the large wall of windows, Cat barely had time to register her surroundings, her eyelids fluttering as Niall sauntered straight over to the end of the large bed and plopped her down onto the mattress. His eyes, now hauntingly dark, were on hers, his chest heaving under the lay of his linen shirt and Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, drowning in the intoxicating heat of his stare. Only the rapid exhales of their breaths could be heard and after a few long, excruciating seconds of them just staring at one another, Cat slowly started to bring her knees up. 

Niall’s lips parted in a low, short gasp as he watched her slip her sandals off her feet and let them drop, his fingers curling into fists at his sides in an attempt to wain the need to have his hands on her. He wanted to touch her so bad, so bad he could feel her searing into his skin, burning his flesh like an unheeded firestorm, reckless in its path. But he also wanted to wait. Watch. He wanted to savor the moment with her, savor being with her and as much as he wanted to feel her tightening around him, feel her skin melting into his as she came, he knew he had to wait. Cat, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. Her chest rose high, a stuttering breath itching at the back of her throat as she rolled her head to the side. With her eyes remaining focused on his, she grabbed at the hem of her dress and carefully pooled it up around her lower tummy. Her fingers danced from her sides to the front of her hips, and she watched Niall bite furiously at his bottom lip as she stuck her thumbs into the hem of her cotton panties and started to wiggle them over her bum. She couldn’t help but giggle, the sound faint and teasing, as she slid her panties down her thighs. 

Niall watched, bated breath and dark hooded eyes, as Cat let the wet, dainty fabric fall from her toe onto the ground at his feet. He swallowed hard as his stare moved from the small heap resting on the floor, back up to her face, a smirk sitting pretty on her lips. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, Cat raising a brow slightly at him as she spread her knees apart and slipped her hand down between her legs. Her fingertips hit her swollen clit and Cat pushed her head back in a clenched hiss, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her hips bared down into the mattress as her fingers swirled through her warm, slippery built-up wetness, her thighs shaking out of her control and her toes curling into the white duvet that laid beneath her. Whimpers flowed past her lips, as Cat played with herself right in front of Niall, teasing him, taunting him. She wanted him to want her more than he ever had. Niall strained to settle his breaths, his blue eyes swimming over her as she laid splayed out before him and it got to a point, when her two fingertips circled just right at that sensitive little nub nestled between her folds and caused a broken whine to edge from her throat that Niall couldn’t take it anymore. She was swollen, bright pink and dripping wet, just waiting for him, begging him to slide himself inside her, to fuck her and a deep grunt pushed from Niall’s chest as he leaned down and gently grabbed Cat’s hand. 

The action startled her and she popped her eyes open, staring up at him. “You’re dirty little girl, teasin’ me like that,” he growled out to her, a gasp leaving her lips as Niall brought her used fingers up to his mouth. His eyes stayed on hers, darker than she had ever seen them, as he slowly slipped her coated fingers past his lips. His tongue curled around the ends, Niall sucking the taste of her off of them before he eased them from the heat of his mouth and very slowly pulled her body up to sit. Her head toppled back to her shoulders as she peered up at him, Niall slotting himself between her spread legs that hung off the end of the bed. Cat innocently tucked her bottom lip into her mouth, staying quiet as Niall bent over and began to undress her. She inhaled sharply when Niall’s face rested against the side of hers, Cat feeling as if her skin was going to melt away from the blistering heat of him hovering over her as his fingers fumbled with the back of her dress, easing down the zipper. 

Niall could feel her trembling in anticipation, and he softly tipped his face down against the crook of her neck, pressing his mouth to her skin. “Niall…” she quietly mewed, as his tongue sucked across to her exposed shoulder. His eyes rolled back from the sound of his name spilling so sweetly past her lips as his big hands dragged across her lower back, curling around the thin material. Standing himself back up, Niall tugged her dress up over her head along with him.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he told her, his half-lidded eyes draping over her unclothed body. Cat pulled in a garbled breath, and she carefully reached behind her back to unhook her strapless bra, letting it fall onto the floor next to her dress. There was a single moment where 

Niall just stood there in front of her, Cat completely naked with a parade of goosebumps floating over her skin as his stare slid from her face to her breasts to her center. It was erotic and intoxicating, overwhelmingly sensual and with the wild thumping of her heart in her chest and an ache settling deep between her thighs for him, Cat hurriedly reached out and began to undo the buttons of his pants. Her gaze, now easily matching the pitch black of his own, was glued to him, seeing the tiny flush of pink invading his cheeks and the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes as she yanked his pants down his legs. There was a fierceness in her motions, Niall could see it in her face, feel it in her touch and he went to unbutton his own shirt before Cat hastily swatted his hands away. 

He chuckled at her eagerness, instead carding a hand up through his disheveled hair while she worked to undo each button one by one before easing the linen shirt off of his broad shoulders. Now just as naked as Cat, Niall hung his head down, watching as the girl ran her palms down the front of his body, her curious stare taking every single part of him in as her touch trailed after it. He was beautiful, stunning. The changes in his body since she had seen him last, nothing short of perfection. The soft, dark hair smattering across his toned chest, his tiny waist that was sculpted just enough that you could still sink your nails into. Her fingers gently scratched along the lines of his hips bones that led to the breathtaking landscape of his manhood; hard and thick and red-slick with his want for her. She slowly peeked back up at him, the very tip of her tongue running hungrily across her bottom lip and that was all it took for Niall to give up, clasping a hand around the back of her neck as he leaned over and hastily pushed his mouth to hers.

He crawled up onto the bed, his mouth devouring hers as he led them both further up the mattress. “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, baby,” he muttered against the delicious curl of her tongue. Cat had latched her hands up into the long strands of his hair, humming in agreement as Niall used his knee to spread her legs even more and nestle his body down between. Her head hit one of the many pillows that adorned his bed, his palm dragging from the back of her neck, over the curve of her breast to her waist and he gripped harshly at her warmed skin. A moan edged past her pouty lips as Niall eagerly rocked himself into her, his swollen cock rubbing along her slit as his lips kissed over her chin and attached to the side of her throat. 

With her eyes falling closed, Cat wrapped her arms around Niall’s broad shoulders as he used his strength to lift her hip up slightly off the bed, the angle enough to let the tip of his pulsing length sit right at her opening. Pulling in a jumbled breath, she dug her nails into the smooth skin of his upper back, her body on fire, already vibrating underneath him as she waited for him to sink himself all the way inside her. Her mind was going frantic; the heat of him nearly suffocating as she buried her nose into the crook of his shoulder and he assaulted the flesh at the side of her throat with the hot-wet of his mouth. She knew it was what she wanted, it was everything that she wanted. Him. Being with him like that, just like that. And she couldn’t take it any longer–she fucking needed him. Her thighs clamped around his hips and she rolled her bottom up, encouraging him to enter her. She wanted to feel that burning stretch that she had missed so much, that she had dreamed about for so long. She wanted to feel him buried inside her once again.

A whimper burst freely past her parted lips as his fingers tangled into the side of her hair, Niall finally easing his hips towards her as he oh-so-slowly pushed his hardened length inside her warm, wet center. His body tensed as he entered her all the way, a low groan spilling out against Cat’s sticky skin as Niall began to move inside her. Her head fell back under the guide of his hand entangled in her hair, Niall rounding his back slightly as his mouth trailed down from her neck to her collarbones to her chest, his lips pinching around her supple breast. Cat’s fingers slipped up into the back of Niall’s thick brown hair, pulling at the ends as he thrust his hips harder against her and sucked across her clammy flesh, exploring all her soft, pretty parts. The feelings were building fast in her lower tummy, dancing around like a fiery flame waiting to explode and she whined as his teeth nibbled harshly the sensitive bud of her breast. 

His lips popped off her nipple and he licked between the valley of her breasts as he leaned his upper body up. Cat’s fingers untangled from the strands of his hair as Niall rested back on his hunches, both his big hands curving down the length of her trembling body and grabbing tightly around her thighs as he continued to fuck into her. Easing her eyes open, Cat dreamily stared up at him as heated sparks quickly rushed through her entire body, shooting from the lingering taste of his breath on her tongue to the tips of her tightly curled toes. Tiny grunts were spitting past his parted lips as he fucked into her, sweat dripping along his dampened hairline and down his heaving chest. His stare was fixated between her spread legs, watching as he sunk himself into her over and over, her warmth devouring every impeccable inch of him. She felt so good around him like that, her center swollen and silky-wet, taking him so perfectly and Niall licked across his lips as he tipped his hips down and buried himself all the way inside her. 

Cat cried out from the intense sensation, his thickness stretching her tight walls as her body started to shake under the press of his big hands. Niall shot his eyes up to her face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he diligently watched her and she gulped back a heavy breath, unruly waves of her impending orgasm creeping up from her aching core and pouring hot over her dewy skin. Clawing her fingers into the duvet at her sides, Cat caught Niall’s stare once more, the look in his eyes sending her into a reckless fit, her body needing to him to fuck her, really fuck her. It seemed so new, so different, but harnessing that same wild heat and unrestrained passion she had felt before. But as Niall continued to push himself inside her, his fingertips bleeding into the meaty flesh at the front of her trembling thighs, Cat wanted more. She needed more. 

Whining out in desperation, Cat pinched her eyes closed as she shook her head, rolling her hips harder into him. “Damn, baby,” Niall chuckled, seeing her lash out. She shuddered slightly, catching his stare again as she untangled her fingers from the soft fabric of his bed and slapped her hand down between her legs, frantically rubbing at her clit. Niall could tell her she was desperate to get off, he could feel her throbbing around him, the quivering of her body and rather than give her exactly what she so clearly wanted, instead he pulled himself nearly all the way out of her. Cat gasped from the loss of him, her brows folding in as she wildly darted her eyes with his. 

Her fingers stayed swirling at her clit as her center throbbed, and Niall just watched her reaction in amusement as he rested the tip of his cock right at her entrance. He was being spiteful, menacing, purposely teasing her at that point and Cat was struggling to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she curiously stared up at him. Her lips pursed and she bucked her hips towards him, wanting him to give her more. Raising a brow, Niall obliged, slowly pushing himself inside her again and Cat moaned, her eyes rolling back at the satisfying feeling. “Niall...,” she whimpered out again, easing her stare back to his. Niall was already looking down at her, his massive hands now wrapped around the sides of her waist as he slowly, and very precisely, rocked his hips against her. His darkened eyes were stuck to hers, watching as her lips briefly parted and she choked back a breath. 

“Fuck me like you did before.” 

It came out as a soft whisper, humming sweetly through the thick air like a cyclone attempting to drown them and Niall licked over his lips, dragging his narrowed stare over her flushed face. “Oh, ya want it like that, huh?” he said to her, cocking his head back slightly. His hips were still thrusting against hers, the intensity nearly overwhelming Cat as she gingerly nodded her head. 

“Please,” she begged under her breath, “just a little bit…” 

Cat knew what she was asking for, Niall knew what she was asking for. And he had been waiting for that exact moment. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, a delicious smirk slid over his lips as he leaned himself down on top of her and placed his mouth right at her ear. Cat’s eyes fluttered shut as Niall squeezed bearishly at her waist and rolled his hips, burying himself all the way inside her, so far it almost hurt. Bringing a hand up, he curled his fingers tight into her hair by the side of her face and held her still. “Tell me how ya want me to fuck ya,” he whispered, his streamy breath sticking to the side of her neck. 

Cat clawed down the slope of his back at his words, biting off a broken cry that had escaped her lips. He was heavy on top of her, their combined sweat pooling between their chests and she could barely breathe, but all she wanted was for him to fuck her, fuck her exactly like he had fucked her before. He was thrusting into her as he waited for her words, deep and steadily, but she wanted more. “Harder…” she gasped with a creaking swallow, “please…” 

Niall cradled his palm around the side of her face, his thumb pressing firmly into her jaw. Sliding his stare over to look at her, he kept his mouth by her ear, just barely letting the tip of his tongue slip over her earlobe. “No, kitty cat,” he teased in that deep, filthy accent of his, “tell me exactly what ya want.” 

Wrapping her hands around the back of his balmy neck, Cat brought Niall’s face flush to hers. Their gaze locked heavy, and she swallowed hard as Niall gripped her chin and brushed the tip of her nose with his own. “Tell me,” he mouthed. 

Cat huffed out a low whine as she held his stare. “Fuck me,” she breathed out, “fuck me harder. Choke me, use me.” She paused, swallowing hard as she felt the cold metal of his necklace slapping against her throat. “Make me come. Make me yours.” 

Niall raised a brow and gave her a faint nod. “Louder,” he demanded, thrusting roughly into her. She gasped against his parted mouth, the feverish, tempting action nearly knocking the air straight from her lungs. Slipping his fingers from the side of her face, Niall pried her hands from around the base of his neck and swung them up above her head, pinning both her wrists down into the pillow. Cat’s mouth dropped open as he ghosted his lips to hers again. She could taste him on her tongue, and she struggled to take in a decent breath under the press of his weight. Niall smirked, clamping harder to her wrists and she shivered from his dominant touch. “I wanna hear ya beg for it, baby…c’mon...” 

Her eyes darted languidly with his as a fiery haziness started to invade her head. “Please,” she pleaded, her voice soft as a whisper. “Niall…please, fuck me, use me...make me yours.” 

It was the last bit that was getting to Niall, that was making his heart pound uneven in his sweaty chest and his stomach tangle into knots. Hearing those words slide so richly, so intently off her tongue, it was like heaven and there was nothing else in the world that he wanted. He swallowed hard. “You wanna be mine?” 

“Yes.” 

“All mine? To do what I want with?” 

Cat lifted her chin just enough to rest her lips to his, barely nodding. “Yes...yes, please,” she breathed out, “I’m all yours.” 

Niall smirked, a devilish little smirk that sent an unparalleled rage of scorching heat pulsing over Cat’s skin before she felt his fingers drag up from their grip on her waist and tap right at her mouth. His darkened stare focused on hers as Cat anticipated his next move, gasping lightly as she felt his two fingers slip past her parted lips and push down her throat. She gagged around the stretch of his thick fingers, her eyes pinching closed before he pulled his hand away, smashing his mouth to hers. He kissed her hard, swallowing her warm spit and her rapacious whines as Cat wiggled beneath him, struggling to yank out of his strong grip. Niall chuckled at her attempt as he sucked at her tongue and held her down.

His hips went crazy; faster and harder, crashing into hers with so much force Cat swore she could see blinding lights flickering under her eyelids with each of his heavy grunts spilling down her throat. But all she could do was moan. She moaned and whimpered and took whatever it was that Niall wanted to give her. She was his. All his. And she was enjoying every single filthy little second of it. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Niall leaned up slightly, Cat’s eyes easing open as she stared up at him and with his hand still holding her wrists tightly, pressing all his weight onto them, Niall reached down and grabbed under Cat’s knee, a jumbled breath filling her lungs as Niall hooked her leg onto the broad of his shoulder and sunk himself all the way inside her. The angle was unbelievable, filling her to the brim with all his perfect swollen thickness and a cry pierced past her pouty lips as she flung her head back into the pillow. He was fucking her so deep; his strokes long and slow, hitting that sweet little spot inside Cat every time his hips met hers. Niall just watched her as he moved on top of her, watched her body shake and coil up as her nipples grew harder with each thrust. He watched beads of sweat drip along her mottled flesh, his hooded stare following the trail of them down the curves of her breasts. He watched her eyes flutter closed as his public bone smacked against her clit, sensuous moans breaking out of her bared throat and Niall pushed out a groan, dropping her leg from his shoulder as he slapped a splayed hand to her lower tummy, slowly sliding his palm up the middle of her torso. 

Cat’s mind was a fury, and she shook her head under the pitch black of her closed eyes just as she felt the heat of his touch cradle around her throat. She choked back a breath before his fingers tightened around the sides of her neck and he started to fuck into her just a bit faster, rolling his hips upwards as the tip of his cock hit right at her slippery upper wall. “Fuckin’ look at you,” she heard him grumble between panting breaths. “So fuckin’ gorgeous takin’ me like this.�� 

Cat strained to whine out under the press of his hand, her body convulsing as the unstoppable crest of her orgasm was begging to rip through her. Her center was hot and pulsating, her wetness spilling out of her with every pull of his cock and she began to tremble, her chest burning with the need for air as her body quickly, and unrelentlessly, started to give into her much needed release. It was fast, sneaking up on her with a velocity of a thousand lightning bolts charging through her wasted body all at once. Niall continued to fuck into her, not letting up, the sweet whines that cracked from her pinched throat, her beautiful writhing body urging him on and Cat popped her eyes open and caught his stare just as she hit her peak, her mouth hung idle with the silence held at the tip of her tongue. Her face was bleeding red, her eyes rolling back as Niall buried himself deep inside her and unclamped his hand from her throat. 

She gasped, fully giving into her frantic orgasm as it finally over took her entire sweat-coated body. Slipping his other hand from her wrists, Niall hovered above her with both his palms pressed into the bed beside her head as he slowed his thrusts, languidly pushing inside her. Cat moaned out his name, the sound coming out soft from her dry throat and her sticky chest heaved as she struggled to find her breath. Peering up at him, she carefully brought her arms back down and wrapped her hands around his forearms that rested right next to her face. They stayed like that for a moment, all starry-eyed as they stared at one another, soaking up the feeling of Cat pulsing around him as he just barely moved his hips. 

“Fuck yes,” she breathed out, turning her face to press a tiny kiss to the inside of his wrist. It was a sweet gesture and Niall fought the racing of his heart. “You’re so good.” 

Huffing out a short chuckle at her words, Niall confidently smirked down at her and Cat couldn’t help but smile, a slight bashfulness taking over. He looked so pretty above her like that, ethereal, like a God with his brown hair sweeping into his eyes, his skin shiny and patchy red, covered in sweat. His gaze was dark and salacious, full of lust and an uncontrollable need for her. She had just had one of the best orgasms of her life, but she could already feel the heat starting to build again just from looking up at him. Niall reached over and gently brushed away some matted hair that was stuck to Cat’s forehead, a tender touch to her hot skin before he grabbed around her chin and leaned down, pushing his lips to hers. He kissed her, kissed her deep and with purpose and Cat snaked her arms around his shoulders, curling her fingers up into the back of his dampened hair. 

Inching away slightly, Niall caught her stare again. “I’m not done with you yet,” he told her, a gasp leaving her mouth as Niall shoved an arm up under the arch of her back and yanked her up from the bed. Cat tightened her arms around his shoulders as Niall rested back on his knees and eased her wrecked little body into his lap. He was still buried inside her, the quick motions of him sliding her into his lap not letting him leave the warmth of her for even a second. Niall squeezed his forearm around her lower back, holding her taunt to him as he tangled his other hand into the back of her hair. Cat’s mouth was back on his, eager to kiss him. She sucked at his tongue, nipped at his lower lip and swallowed his hot, panting breaths as he thrust his hips into hers. 

Cat felt the prickles of her next orgasm bubbling wild in her lower tummy, Niall moving faster and sloppier inside her with each minute that passed. She knew he was working himself to his own release, needing to feel that same nearly insurmountable high as Cat had just felt and she cupped her hands around his sweaty neck, whining against his tongue. She started to move with him, her hips rocking to meet his and Niall could feel this change in her, feel her center starting to clench up around him, swollen and warm and he dug his fingertips into the side of her waist, his grip tangling tighter into her hair as he gently tugged her head back. Cat let out a curdled cry as her head fell to her shoulders, her eyes pinching shut and her nails scratching helplessly at his scalp. Niall pushed his wet-hot mouth to her neck, slinking his tongue over the hollow of her throat as he bit hard at the soft skin. Cat sucked back a jilted breath at the feeling, her body starting to tremble and shake against him with each perfect meet of their hips. She was already close again, so fucking close, the fire igniting in her belly and swarming like a fuse throughout her and she rocked harder against him, her arms curling tighter around his shoulders. 

His grunts grew more desperate as his lips travelled over her sticky skin, lapping up the beads of sweat that were painted across her naked body. He sucked along the span of her shoulder, his grown-in beard roughing her tender flesh as the scent of his body heat, thick and musty with arousal, seeped into her nose. He held her tighter as she attempted to rub herself against him, and it was so tight Cat almost couldn’t breathe and she brought her face down, moving her arms to hug around his neck. “Fuck...f-fuck,” Niall moaned out in his gruff voice, his thrusts becoming even rougher. Cat squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face down against his broad shoulder as Niall’s mouth hung open right at the slope of her neck. Curling his fingers into the thick of her hair, Cat whined out as her body started to shake, that familiar heat surging over her skin as the waves of her impending release teetered right at the brink, just teasing her to spill over. She struggled to breathe, struggled to swallow back the spitting cries that were being forced past her lips and just before he was able to coerce her begging body over that blissful edge once more, Niall stiffened inside her. His muscular frame tensed within her hold, his sticky body coiling up and gripping tight to her as he finally reached his well-deserved high. 

A low growl of her name spilled from his mouth onto the side of her neck and Cat gasped as she felt him come inside her. She could feel the warm streams of his load filling her up, thick and slippery, something she had never experienced before and her eyes fluttered as she slowly started to roll against him, wanting him to completely empty himself inside her. There was something about it, something about feeling his sticky, hot cum inside her that turned her on even more. It was filthy, obscene. So fucking sexy. And she couldn’t get enough of him. 

“Holy shit,” Niall barely groaned out, jerking his hips as he finished, “shit...fuck, baby…” His big hand was cupped at the back of her head and he held her quivering body against his, sweetly kissing along the span of her shoulder. He was being soft with her, but Cat wasn’t done. She whimpered at him, rolling her hips against his that had all but stopped moving at that point. Lifting her lips to his ear, Cat swallowed hard as she gripped her hands at his sweat-coated upper back. “Stay inside me,” she breathed out, “please…” 

Her body wriggled against him, throbbing around his spent cock as tiny desperate whines purged from her throat. Niall knew she wasn’t done. He knew, without a doubt, she wanted more. 

Lifting his mouth from the crook of her neck, Niall brought her face to his. Her eyes, half-lidded and glassy, locked on his and Niall drifted his stare over her delicate features, his hot mouth hovering at hers. Cat grinded against him. “You wanna come again, don’t ya?” he teased as the young woman faintly nodded. 

Niall smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Before Cat could even properly kiss him back, he pulled away and had her tossed to the mattress on her stomach. It happened so quick that Cat barely had time to even process what was happening, the side of her face smashed into the bed as Niall fumbled around behind her, roughly grabbing at her hips with his wide palms and lifting her bottom up just a bit. Cat sharply inhaled, twisting her fingers into the blankets beneath her, preparing for what he was about to do to her. A broken cry left her lips, laced with soft desperation as her center ached with the need to feel him inside her, to have him make her come all over again. She could feel his warm load seeping from her opening, dripping down her slit and just as Cat went to turn her head to peer back at him, the unmistakable wet-hot of his mouth cupped around her heat. 

A gasp shuddered past her parted lips, soaking into the white duvet as Niall slipped his tongue along her folds, eating hungrily at her. Her body shook as he curled his lips around her clit, sucking hard as his fingertips dug into the supple flesh of her bottom. He held her still and spread her open, licking and sucking and tasting at her, Cat rocking her bum back against him as she wordlessly pleaded for more. Her tummy sunk in, her eyes fluttering closed as she started to feel the wicked pangs of her release itching across her clammy skin once more. Niall hummed as he slurped over her swollen folds, sinking his tongue down inside her. Twisting her head forward to bury her face down into the duvet, Niall had just moved his mouth to suckle her clit before she felt the warmth of his mouth dissipate and the delicious stretch of his cock push inside her once again. 

She cried out, fisting rough at the blankets as the weight of Niall’s sticky body consumed her. He was back on top of her, his hips slowly rolling into hers as he began to fuck into her. She almost couldn’t fixate on anything she was feeling; him, his thick body on top of her, how he felt so fucking good inside her, his hot breath panting out onto the back of her damp neck. It was all too much, overwhelming and out-of-this-world intense, and before she knew it, Niall had sucked a trail up the side of her throat. “This what ya remember, huh? This what ya want?” he asked her, his voice gravelly in her ear. “Me fuckin’ ya just like this?” 

Cat moaned at his lewd words, the memories of being pinned down on that cold, hard desk as Niall roughly fucked into her from behind, gagging her with his thick fingers and making her come around him, instantly sent a wildfire soaring through her body. She writhed uncontrollably under him, gasping back needed breaths as he continued to move on top of her. God, she needed to come again so bad. His thrusts picked up, feeling the way she was reacting to him, and Niall reached up and wrapped her hair around his fist, easing her head up off the bed. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in shocked silence, her eyes fluttering as Niall slapped his hips against her bottom, fucking into her even rougher than before. He felt so fucking good and it made her squirm. “This is how ya want it, baby?” he growled out to her, sucking feverishly along her neck. 

“Yes...God, yes…” she choked out. 

“Like bein’ me dirty little girl, don’t ya? Takin’ my big cock so good…”

Another seedy moan edged from her throat and the sound made Niall smirk against her skin. “I wanna come,” Cat begged, barely a whisper between her heavy gasps, “please Niall...I wanna come so bad.” 

Niall swallowed hard at the sweet, pleading sound of her voice, something about hearing her beg him, hearing her wanting him so bad, wanting him to make her come, it made him weak. He was so goddamn weak for her. “Fuck, kitty cat,” he moaned, settling his mouth back at her neck as he took a hand and shoved it under her tummy. 

His hips slowed a bit, fucking into her with long, deep thrusts as his hand slipped down between her spread legs. Cat cried out as she felt the pads of his two fingers start to circle at her clit. Niall had eased her face back down, hovering over her as his puffy lips stayed resting at the corner of her open mouth. She breathed heavy as he continued to fuck her, slow and steady, the tip of his hardened length hitting perfectly inside her swollen center as his fingertips played with her sensitive little nub. Her mind was frazzled, wicked and drenched with the sensations that were quickly consuming her entire fucked-out body and it was when Niall softly brushed some strands of her hair away from the side of her face, tiny kisses being planted to the crease of her mouth, that she knew something was different. His big hand was cradling her head as he pushed inside her, his hot breath mixing with her own as they perfectly moved together and a smile started to tug at the corner of her lips. 

His eyes were stuck to her as he rested his forehead at her temple. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, “so fuckin’ beautiful. God, baby, I-...” he paused, swallowing hard as he gathered his breath. Cat faintly moaned as he buried himself deep inside her. She was right there, so close fucking close to coming she could taste it on the tip of her tongue, her center clenching hard around him. But all she wanted in that split second was to hear his voice. “I missed bein’ inside ya so much.”  

Unfolding her fist from the white blanket, Cat reached behind her and curled her fingers into the back of his hair. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout ya, ‘bout fuckin’ ya just like this,” Niall went on, “all I wanted...was to be with ya again, feel ya around me, sinkin’ into ya, baby.” 

A low whimper poured from her lips and Cat rocked her body back into him, the last little thing she needed before she felt her body lose all control. She slowly writhed under him, under the heat of his thick, strong body, her toes curling and her shaken breaths stalled in her risen chest as he continued to fuck into her, riding her through her intoxicating, mind-numbing high. Broken moans bounced off his stark walls and filled their ears as Niall kept his stare on her, urging her through with the steady, skilled rocks of his hips. His fingers moved between her folds, the warm wetness of her orgasm slick as it spilled out around him and onto his hand. Cat called out his name, over and over, as she succumbed to him, to all that he was giving her, her desired release long and nearly paralyzing, the intense heat crawling over her wrecked body and biting at her flushed skin as she trembled uncontrollably against him. She had come hard, harder and more thoroughly than she had before and she didn’t even know that was possible. And with the mind-blowing sensation of her letting go around him again, it was only a fraction of a moment before Niall was hitting his own second release, much more soft and subdued that time. Cat couldn’t help but smile at the intimate feeling. 

“Oh my God,” she finally mumbled, both having barely come down. Cat strained to find her full breaths as Niall eased his hips to a stop. “I-...I’ve never felt like that before. With anyone.” 

Her eyes were still closed, Cat reeling in the over-heightened feelings of her powerful orgasm as Niall chuckled against her. He pressed his lips to the side of hers. “Good,” he said, slowly pulling his hand out from under her. The loss of his touch between her legs made Cat whine, and Niall smiled down at her. “I love makin’ ya feel like that.” 

Niall stayed resting inside her for a few minutes, sweetly kissing along her jaw and shoulder as she continued to come down, her sticky body relishing in the cool air of his bedroom. Contented hums slipped past her lips, a blissful smile following as she finally was able to catch her breath. She had never felt so satisfied, so purely whole, before in her entire life, he had outdone himself and they were both blatantly aware of that fact. Niall, on the other hand, had never felt with anyone the way he was feeling with Cat in that very moment. He had never felt happy, so fulfilled, so...absolutely in love. Twisting her fingers into his damp hair, Cat lifted her face from the mattress just enough so she could fully kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She needed to taste his breath on her tongue and feel the beautiful heat of his mouth. Niall eagerly kissed her back, and it wasn’t long before he had slipped himself from her and turned her body over in his arms. Curling up in his bed, they tenderly kissed until their lips were sore and their naked bodies nearly listless. They stay snuggled together under the warm covers, a sated, simple quiet filling the room between the last few soft kisses until they both drifted off to sleep. 

•

Sometime in the middle of the night, Cat awoke. Her eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the dark room and she wrinkled her brow, unsure as to where she was before everything came flooding back to her. Peeking over to her left, she caught a glimpse of Niall. He was laying on his back, perfectly still as he slept, his chest rising with the soft ebb and flow of his steady breaths. He looked so pretty, his dark brown hair all disheveled and swept across his forehead as his tiny eyelashes rested daintily on his cheeks. But there was nothing dainty about that man. Sweet in his own ways, soft in others, but he was rough and dirty, and eager and good, and as the thoughts of just a few hours prior started to swim around in her head, Cat suddenly felt the soreness that had settled between her legs. Niall had fucked her, really fucked her, fucked her better than she had ever had before and the girl chewed at her lip as her stare lazily dragged over him, the only thought left in her mind was what was going to happen between them now.

Deciding that she needed some water, her mouth unnaturally dry–she assumed from the endless moans and many frantic kisses shared–Cat very carefully untangled her naked body from his and out from under the covers. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, finally being able to take in the sight of the room she had been holed up in all night. Her stare didn’t know what to focus on first; the expansiveness of the space with its decadent art pieces adorning one of the walls, the large expanding floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the cityscape or the enormous bed that she had just been laying in. Cat twisted around, peeking back at Niall. He hadn’t moved a single muscle. And still looked just as cute, just as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. She smiled down into the round of her shoulder and a slight chill broke out over her bare skin. 

Scraping her teeth over her dry bottom lip, Cat eased up from the bed and peered around the floor, grabbing the first thing she saw to cover herself up with. It was Niall’s linen button up. She slid her arms into the shirt as she quietly stepped over to the window, just letting the thin material hang open down her body. It was a bit short, just barely covering her bum, but it did the trick for the time being and she tipped her head to the side as she flicked her wide, curious stare out across the city’s rooftops. It was beautiful, the bright flickering neon lights, the wiz of the cars zooming through the dark streets and Cat stood there, arms crossed over her front for a few more minutes, soaking up the beautiful scene in front of her before tip-toeing out of the bedroom. 

She didn’t really remember how they had gotten back to his bedroom; her attention, and her mouth, stuck to Niall on the way in, but it wasn’t hard to find her way back out into the open floor plan of his two-story condo. If she had thought his bedroom was spacious, she didn’t even know what to do the second her bare feet hit the threshold of his main living space. Another enormous wall of windows overlooking the city, the space decorated just how she had imagined it would be, much like Niall’s office. Modern and sleek, incredibly expensive, with only a few punches of color amongst the dark tonal colors, it was unreal. There was no questioning that Niall was a wealthy man. 

“Holy shit,” Cat breathed out to herself with a short giggle, tucking some unruly hair behind her ear. She stepped forward, making her way through the open living room and into the kitchen. There were a few lights on, just really soft dim lighting under the cabinets that she assumed accented the atmosphere of his home, so she was able to easily find her way to the fridge. Niall had a few glass bottles of water resting along the shelf in the door and Cat eagerly helped herself to one. Unscrewing the metal cap, Cat shuffled over to the long kitchen island, facing out towards his living room as she put the rim of the bottle to her lips and took a nice, slow sip. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head back, letting the cold refreshing liquid slip down her dry throat. She had never tasted water that good before. 

The girl must have lost herself in the water for a moment, as it was only when she heard the faint clearing of a throat that she shot her eyes open, bringing her chin back down. It was Niall. Standing just at the threshold of the kitchen, in nothing but a tiny pair of white boxers. Licking her lips, Cat smiled at him, her stare noticeably dragging over the exquisitely intricate lines of his toned body. He was by far the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. And she was pretty sure he knew it too. 

“Thirsty?” Niall commented. 

Cat wrinkled her brows and flicked her gaze back up to his. “Huh?” He nodded towards the bottle of water in her hand as he stepped over to the kitchen counter, pulling out a stool to sit down. Cat peered down at the bottle that was gripped in her hand. “Oh...yeah,” she giggled in response.

Niall leaned in, resting his forearms on the edge of the counter. His tired, half lidded eyes stayed on hers, those hypnotizingly ocean blue eyes that Cat just couldn’t seem to get away from. As much as she knew she should. She quickly took another sip of water. Niall gaffed and tipped his head down, running his fingers through his mess of hair. “Cat, can I be honest?” he then blurted out. 

Swallowing down the frigid water that was held in her mouth, Cat faintly nodded as she set the bottle down on the counter in front of her. His eyes darted heavy with hers and for a moment, Cat almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t like that feeling. Not when she had an idea what was coming next. “I wanna be with you,” he said bluntly. 

She dropped her stare, mainly because the intensity of his was eating at her skin, and tucked some fallen hair behind her ear. “I...can’t,” she muttered, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she annoyingly picked at the paper label of her bottled water. 

“Why?”

“Because, I-…we shouldn’t,” she said. 

Niall shook his head. “Listen, if it's this boyfriend of yours,” he started, Cat catching his stare again, “ya know it’s not real, it can’t be. And ya know I can fuck ya better, you know I can treat ya better. Better than anyone.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat huffed out a breath as she rubbed over her forehead. She knew it had gone on long enough, and she had no choice but to tell him. She couldn’t keep lying to him. It was tearing her up inside. “Look, Niall…” Cat paused, already frustrated and needing to collect her thoughts before continuing, “I’ve got to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me.” 

He narrowed his stare at her as he listened, not sure where the conversation was headed. “I, um…” Cat fiddled with a button on his shirt, tugging the airy material tighter around her chest, hoping it was covering her bare breasts. “I don’t really have a boyfriend.” 

“What?” he scoffed.

Cat flicked her eyes up to his, she could see the confusion pulling at his face. His lips dropping open, his eyes scouring over hers, like he was desperately searching for answers. It nearly broke her heart. “I was-, fuck, I don’t even know now why I did it,” she started, plopping her elbows down to the countertop as she covered her face with her hands. “I guess, I said that hoping it would keep a distance between us. To...keep myself from...falling for you.” 

Niall’s brows drew in further. He wasn’t even mad that she had lied, just more than confused at that point. He never knew what was going on inside that girl’s head, and it frustrated the hell out of him. “Cat, why would ya wanna do that?” 

“Are you kidding me?” she shot back, scrunching her face in. “You told me yourself that you don’t do serious girlfriends. You’ve slept with half the city, Niall. I know you. I know how you are and I know that I was to ever get involved with you, really involved... it wouldn’t end well for me.” 

Niall darted his stare over hers for a second as he stayed quiet before he pushed out a long sigh, Cat watching as he hung his head down. She sucked in a deep breath, instantly feeling horrible for all of the shit that had just spewed from her mouth. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, not in that way and definitely not after the night they had just had. But she also didn’t know how else she was supposed to get it across to him. He was stubborn, persistent and with guys like Niall, sometimes it was just easier to rip the bandaid off fast. It was better for both of them that way. No matter how she actually felt. 

And as much as she needed to get all of that off her chest, she hated seeing him upset. It hurt her heart looking over at him, slouched over his countertop with his head hanging between his shoulders. He didn’t say a word, not a single word and Cat couldn’t take it anymore. Shuffling around the kitchen island, she stepped over to him and cradled her hand to the side of his face, her thumb rubbing over his bearded jaw. “I’m sorry, Niall,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean it like that, I–”

“That’s exactly how ya meant it,” he mumbled. 

Cat let out a soft sigh. “No, it’s not. Not at all. I like you, okay?” she went on, “I really...I really do like you. What I feel for you is–...I can’t even explain it, and I don’t know how to make any sense of it. I never meant to lie to you, but I’m just-...I didn’t know what else to do. I’m trying to protect myself, okay? I have to.” 

Niall flung his head up as he looked over at her, his body following his movements. His knees bumped hers and she herself slotted between his spread legs, facing each other. “Protect yourself from what?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How I feel about ya? How I make ya feel?” 

Cat shook her head. “You’re gonna get tired of me, Niall.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, you are,” she told him, exasperation idle in her voice, “you’re gonna get tired of me. You’ll get tired of me and you won’t want me anymore and it will just-...I won’t be able to take it, okay? Not from you. It will break my heart.” 

And there it was. The real reason why she was scared. Why she was so intent on holding him at a distance. Why she had lied to him in the first place. Her feelings for him were much deeper than she was letting on, much deeper than maybe she even wanted to admit. Niall huffed out a deep breath and reached up, cupping his hands around the sides of her face. Cat’s gaze met his, and she nearly wanted to burst out crying. She didn’t even know why. “Listen to me,” he began, his brows raised as he stared at her through the tops of his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I couldn’t. Cat, you are all that I think about, all the bloody fuckin’ time. I can’t get ya out of me head. Shit, I don’t want to. You, love, you are what I want. You have always been what I wanted. I have loved ya since the first time ya looked at me and havin’ ya back in me life these past few weeks, it’s just made me realize that I am nothin’...nothin’ without you.” 

His words slid over her ears, so sweet and so pure, it was hard to believe it was coming from Niall. But it was, and it made her heart soar. She was so intent on the thought of him breaking her heart, on not feeling the same way for her that she did for him, that she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he, Niall Horan, had real, honest, true and undeniable feelings for her. She swallowed hard, resting her hands to his chest as he went on. “The reason why I haven’t had a serious girlfriend is not ‘cause I didn’t want one, not ‘cause I wanted to go out and fuck everyone, Cat...it’s ‘cause none of them were you.” 

A heavy breath eased past Cat’s lips and she knew there was no way she could hold in the tears that had worked their way to the brims of her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her chin wobbling as a tear slid down her cheek. She softly giggled, her nerves getting the better of her and Niall gently wiped the tear away as he stood up and pushed his forehead to hers. “Baby, none of them were you.” 

Dragging her hands across the span of his bare chest, Cat gingerly shook her head and just barely eased her chin up, bringing her mouth to his. She kissed him, kissed him soft and then deeper, wrapping her arms around his body as a few more tears slipped down her face. Niall might have shed a tear or two as well, not being one to shout that from the rooftops, but Cat felt the wetness on her skin as he buried his face against her neck when he pulled her into a tight hug. 

“So, you’ll be mine then?” Niall spoke up once more after a few quiet moments, inching back slightly from her embrace. 

Cat smiled up at him, reaching up to brush some hair from his eyes. They were too pretty to cover up. “Niall James, I was always yours. From the first time you kissed me. Besides…how on earth could I say no after that?” 

He snorted. “I’m sure you’d find a way…”

She pinched her eyes closed in a faint laugh. “Not this time,” she whispered, urging him into another kiss. His tongue curled around hers, and Cat sweetly whined before just barely pulling back. “So...I heard you, like, love me or something...” 

Niall cocked his head back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, ya did, did’ya?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, with a faint shrug.

He breathed out a soft smile, one that made her heart nearly explode. “Well, ya heard right. I fuckin’ love you, Cat.”

“I love you, too, Niall,” she replied, her eyes dancing over his, “I always have, even though I spent the last four years trying to fight it.” 

With his brow raising, Niall licked across his lips. “Figured that. I always knew ya loved me,” he said. 

“You’re just being cocky now,” Cat rolled her eyes, her fingernails raking down the slope of his back. “You didn’t know shit.”

Niall laughed. “Of course I did, petal. Just had to get you to admit it,” he said. Pulling himself away slightly, he slipped his gaze down her scantily covered frame. She was on full display, nothing being hidden by the material of his shirt at that point. A familiar heat began to crawl over Cat’s exposed skin, Niall’s wild blue eyes bleeding dark as the intensity of his stare grew with each passing second that he looked over her. She knew that look all too well. “And I also know…” he paused, slipping one of his hands inside the hem of his open shirt that adorned her body. She faintly gasped as he groped at her breast, rubbing his fingertips across her pert nipple. His playful touch burned at her sensitive flesh and he peered back up at her. 

Niall thumbed at her bottom lip as he leaned in close. “...we got a lot more fuckin’ to do, kitty cat.” 

Cat bit off the bashful smile that was etching across her lips, her cheeks punching a bright pink. Niall chuckled amusingly at her reaction and took her hand in his, kissing sweetly across her knuckles before leading the way back to his bedroom. And as Cat held his fingers within hers, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked in front of her and felt the soreness between her legs dissipate as that uncompromisable need for him took over, all she could think about was the fact that he was hers. All hers. Hers to kiss and touch, to play with and fuck. To laugh with, and cry with and cuddle and enjoy. Hers to make love to. Hers to love.  

And it was so much better than a million hot and sticky nights spent at summer camp. 

~~

Without your love, I’m jaded, going crazy, come save me,

Hearts beating, not breathing, I’m breathing...

[kaibacorpintern]

hi i forgot the ship name but would u write something thats seto and ryou? (platonic or romantic) where they play a ttrpg together or somethin idk

“or somethin idk” give me an inch, i have run a mile. a mile of 4.7k words.

platonic euroshipping. post-canon. ryou applies for a game writer position at kaibacorp and makes it to the final stage. contains: dragons, swords, some very sexy things about solidvision and the virtual world, kaiba covered in blood and having a great time, me the writer having a great time, hopefully you the reader having a great time, and ryou, not covered in blood, having a very, very, very anxious time

tw for some fantasy violence

++++++

Ryou inhaled, taking a deep breath of: the fresh, sweet smell of grass, the coolness of river water, something dry and grey in the wind, slightly rotten - smoke? And sulfur. The grasses were filled with the restless susurrus of the wind, each blade quivering with anticipation. Above him, a hawk tilted in lazy, wide circles, tracking the hidden paths of its prey. He stood on a dusty path halfway up the long slope of a steep hillside, the farmlands of the valley behind him peeled back to reveal the burned, blackened devastation beneath. The village from this distance looked like the charcoal remains of a bonfire, the air still shimmering with heat. 

The sun itself was hot, making him sweat in the thick, coarse silk of his mage’s robe, every purple thread saturated with light and heat. Mopping sweat from his brow, Ryou opened his options menu, the holographic display falling open, in the guise of an illuminated manuscript, and hovering at waist-height in thin air, perfectly tilted for reading. The parchment was old and yellowed, almost velvet to the touch, the edges frayed with age, and he couldn’t resist the urge to smell it, leaning in cautiously to take an experimental whiff. Strong notes of dust, old ink, age; an undertone of knowledge, of the forbidden kind. 

He selected Player Appearance and the page turned, with weight and heft, to reveal another. Kaiba didn’t miss a beat. Ryou had no doubt if he knelt down to drink from the stream that flowed down the slope, folding in clear ribbons past the rocks, the water would run cold over his fingers until they pruned. And the magic effects?

He swallowed. It was not just the sun that was making him sweat.

He’d just changed into something more practical - a short-sleeved green tunic, a pair of white breeches, leather boots that had just a bit of bite to the fit, like the player had to wear them in - when a chime pealed out from six feet away, as though someone had rung an invisible bell. The air tore apart, in odd, geometric anguish, like a broken mirror twisting into itself - 

and there was Kaiba, standing in the knee-high grass in his customary black turtleneck and tight pants, frowning with his arms crossed.

“Hello,” Ryou said. “It’s so nice to see you again. Your technology is... this is amazing. The attention to detail is incredible. The player screen, with the parchment - it even smells like - ”

“What is this? Medieval?” Kaiba said, glancing around at his clothes, the distant village, taking no notice of his praise; Ryou bit his tongue in self-rebuke. As if buttering him up with compliments was going to help. 

“Western Europe. From the mid-11th century to the 12th. The age of knights and chivalry,” he said, deciding that maybe his best strategy was to simply be straightforward.

“I’m familiar with basic history, thank you. How... classic,” Kaiba said, in a tone that screamed disinterest, and Ryou’s heart began to plummet - already starting from behind? No, no, no, he reminded himself, straightening the slouch out of his shoulders. Yuugi had warned him about this. Kaiba was fantastically tough to impress, in general, and the Virtual World was his world, a realm he'd built with sweat and tears, and stolen back with blood. So he hand-picked every writer that wrote for Virtual World games, refusing to squander a single pixel on conventional nonsense and uninspired cliché. 

The last step - before he brought the axe down - was a short, playable demo, as proof of concept, written by the applicant and executed by the Virtual World team.

Ryou had come this far in the application process. Trust that, Yuugi said. And trust yourself.

Kaiba was looking at him, eyebrows arched with expectant curiosity.

“Er,” Ryou said. “Let’s get started, then. You’ll need to change.”

He pulled up the menu, revelling in the hovering parchment once more, and changed Kaiba’s appearance, like - like magic, the lines of Kaiba’s silhouette rippling like a sine wave from the bottom up, his modern-day clothing becoming a knee-length tunic of chainmail under a belted dark blue surcoat. Kaiba held still throughout the entire transformation, in smug admiration of the effect, his arms held out in a ballet dancer’s pose as chainmail draped down his shoulders to his wrists. 

In his right hand appeared, with a sharp, diamond flash of light, a long arming sword, the edge nicked with age and bloodspill. The hilt was black, with a sapphire gleaming in the pommel. A plain shield dropped onto his left forearm. 

He gave the sword an experimental spin, testing the heft with practiced ease, and slid it back into the leather scabbard on his belt.

“A knight, the charred, smoking remains of a village… I’m assuming I’m on a quest to kill a dragon?” he said, pushing back the hood of the chainmail so that it draped off his shoulders, and nodding up the slope to where the grasses tattered into rocky shale. 

“Yes, you can assume that,” Ryou said politely.

On cue, a child no more than twelve years old staggered up the dusty path from the village, her small torso heaving with breath, sweat and tears running in clean streaks down her soot-stained face. 

“Sir Knight,” she choked out. Flashing a look at Ryou that said cheap blow, but unable to deny his own fraternal instinct, Kaiba dropped to one knee and caught her, his hands swallowing her thin, shuddering shoulders. Playing along, at least.

“Calm down,” he said, steadying her. Ryou imagined his anxiety as a small, hard rock, packing in the twist of every fraying nerve, and leaned all his weight onto one foot, grinding the rock into the dirt with his heel. "What is it?”

“They sent me to warn you, about the dragon,” she panted. “They said only the Chosen One can truly defeat the dragon, and bring peace back to the land. Many have tried. All suffered the same terrible fate - a fate worse than death.”

“I see,” Kaiba said. “And who is the Chosen One?”

The girl glanced at Ryou over Kaiba’s shoulder, her eyes glinting with fear. 

“No - no one knows,” she said. “But all the oracles say they’re coming… a knight with a pure and worthy heart. Sir Knight, don’t go. Come back to the village. It’s safe there. What do you gain from this? Our humble lands aren’t worth the danger!”

“I think they are,” Kaiba said, thumbing soot off her face, and frowning as her cheek pixelated, briefly, and resumed a skin-like texture. "Open master commands, user ID 000002510. Initiate master log. Begin recording: skin-to-skin contact glitch reappeared during writer play-test, candidate Bakura, R. Begin patch work immediately. End recording. Disperse to Virtual World team, flag Sawada, project manager. Close master commands. Did you know, one of the most compelling unsolved problems in physics is the lack of a theory that realizes both general relativity and quantum mechanics?”

The girl gave him a wary look, wide-eyed with faint alarm. Ryou sucked in a breath, grinding the anxiety rock down, down, down.

“You - you speak in tongues, Sir Knight," she said. "Are you also an oracle? Has your future-sight failed you? Don’t you see that only death lives on the mountain?”

Kaiba snorted and stood up, turning to Ryou. “A solid response to non-standard player input. Doesn’t ignore modern concepts, but re-contextualizes them in the setting of this world via a framework of prophecy, and redirects the player to the plot.” 

“Um... thank you?” Ryou said. “I wanted this world to feel like it has a future, too, not just a history. I wanted to place it on a timeline, like it - ”

Kaiba’s attention swung back to the girl, still standing there with her eyes darting between them, full of bafflement. 

“Return to the village, girl. Tell them my future-sight never fails me.”

The girl retreated backwards, warily, twisted on her heel, and fled down the path.

"If I go down to the village, what'll I find?" Kaiba said.

"More information about the Chosen One, and an outlaw who tries to recruit you to her band of thieves, with the option to join them for a stealth-based quest.”

"Hm. You have the imagination and the decency to offer me something other than blatant bait, which I don't always bite. The cliché of the Chosen One is boring as hell, it’s both over-done and deterministic, but I think... yes. Yes, I'll bite. Let's go see your dragon."

In the wake of this... compliment?, Ryou could only offer him a small, tentative smile, his heart clenching tight around Yuugi's advice. 

Kaiba started up the path. 

“Er, Kaiba - you might want to check your inventory before you encounter the dragon."

Kaiba’s hand padded around his waist until he found the small satchel that sat on his hip. Another parchment unfurled in the air before him, listing its contents:

Two full healing spells;

Two glamour spells, for changing the guise of a person or object;

Two transformation spells, for changing a person or an object into an animal;

Two scrying spells, for locating people or objects;

Two ignis spells, for commanding fire;

Two aqua spells, for commanding water; and

Two ventus spells, for commanding wind.

Ryou watched him as he read. He'd carved a small, thick groove into the dirt below his foot. Surely, that was enough for Kaiba to get creative?

Kaiba only closed the parchment with a brisk flick of his hand. Then he started up the mountain, Ryou following nervously behind.

***

The mountain path was rougher than Ryou expected, a tightly-coiled spring of switchbacks, leading to the curved lip of a high pass. After several minutes of trudging the dust in silence, he was panting for breath, his feet aching and blistering in their boots, and deeply regretting adding this little detail to the story. Next time, he was just going to put the dragon on a rolling, grassy plain, and he’d make it like an American autumn corn maze, because it still needed to be a challenge, and when the players got to the center they’d find the dragon’s decaying, rotting corpse and realize they’d been stuck inside the maze for five hundred years and everyone they loved was dead, and if they wanted to go back to their own time they’d have to find out how to resurrect the dragon, but only at a terrible cost, a sacrifice of some kind... Not his best off-the-cuff work, but there were usable concepts in there, somewhere. If there was a next time.

Despite being laden down with the chainmail, each tiny link flashing like fish scales in the airy slanting of the afternoon sun, Kaiba seemed unaffected by the demands of the hike, propelling himself forward with long, energetic strides. How?

Ryou thought about asking for a break. Or drinking water from the stream. Or changing his boots for something comfier, but he didn't have anything else in his outfit inventory except the mage robes, and the slippers might be even worse… he stopped, hands on his hips, gathering his breath.

From here the valley sprawled below them, a wide, velvety plain, its edges rising and scalloped by mountains. The village fit in the circle of his thumb and forefinger, a smoking black thumbprint. The team had done a fantastic job: the stream ran down the mountain, flattened into a river, and ran south, lazy and serpentine, a green-blue ribbon cutting through the yellow plains, just like he’d outlined in his initial description of the world….

Wait. 

This was all virtual. 

There was no such thing as air, here, or rivers or sunshine or grasses.

His real, physical body was half-asleep in a Virtual World testing pod on the 17th floor of the Kaiba Corp Tower, and his body here was just a series of algorithms, and if he didn’t want to sweat, he didn’t have to fucking sweat! Thank God!

Up ahead, Kaiba noted the absence of his footfalls and turned around, one hand resting easily on his sword hilt. From his position on the path, he looked down at Ryou from several feet up, which doubled the intimidation of his already formidable bearing.

“I’m fine,” Ryou said. “Just... admiring the view.”

“Are you having your Matrix moment? That’s what my programmers call it,” Kaiba said.

Ryou laughed. “I think so. I was tired but I don't feel it at all, anymore. Like all the fatigue's just melted away and I could run a marathon.”

“Is that something you enjoy?”

“Oh, no. I hate sports.”

Kaiba snorted.

“So, tell me. Why do you want this job?” he said. “At my company? Writing stories with my technology?”

“Er - ” Blindsided by the swerve in topics, Ryou tripped over his thoughts. Surely he must’ve read his application? Maybe he didn’t have the time. Stick to straightforward. “I’m sure you remember my performance in Battle City?”

“Yes, I remember,” Kaiba said, which was honestly more than Ryou expected of him.

“Well, I don’t play much Duel Monsters anymore,” he said, “but I still.. every once in a while, I turn my Duel Disk on and play a few cards, just to see my monsters come out, see them breathe… you know I run a Zombie deck, full of demons and dead things, but SolidVision makes them feel so - so alive. You took these fantasy monsters that exist only in our heads and put them in our world.”

“Virtual World game writers don’t work on SolidVision products,” Kaiba countered.

“Right, I know that. To me, Virtual World and SolidVision are the inverse of each other, or opposites that contain each other, like, like yin and yang - with SolidVision, the unreal enters the real, and becomes real. In the Virtual World, the real - ” Ryou motioned to himself - “enters the unreal, and becomes unreal. We like to put walls between imagination and reality, you know, taxes are real and unicorns aren’t, but with SolidVision and Virtual World, there is no wall. That’s the world I want to write stories for.”

“Hm,” Kaiba said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smile. “Interesting take.”

And he waited, saying nothing more, until Ryou realized he was waiting for him; and trotted lightly up the path to join him.

*** 

By the time they reached the top of the mountain pass, the air had turned a clear, dusky gold. The mountains cast long, black shadows across the valley, like dark teeth, chewing up the farmlands. The mountain pass was saddle-shaped, one side sloping down into the valley they’d just come from, the other flattening into a smaller, higher bowl, cupping a pale blue-green lake between its rocky palms.

Kaiba scrambled onto the nearest large rock, his head swinging as he scanned the lake valley. Ryou wrapped one arm around his waist and bit his thumb. They had found a deep, penetrating quiet, the kind of wilderness quiet that was devoid of texture of any kind; no bugs or burbling streams or bird song. It was not even like holding your breath, waiting, because that implied a coming moment of exhale, a sigh of relief. This was a perfect stillness. 

And hidden somewhere inside it was a dragon. 

Ryou bit harder, until he remembered the pain was fake and did nothing, and he had to come up with something else to temper his anxiety, which was definitely, definitely real.

Kaiba's gonna flip his shit when he sees your dragon, Yuugi said, from the back of Ryou's mind, Ryou's demo manuscript in hand. In a good way or a bad way? Is it too derivative? What does it matter that he'll flip his shit for my dragon when he flips his shit for ANY dragon? He's a slut for dragons. Oh my god, you can't say that! Yuugi, please, help - nope. You got this. You know what you're doing.

Even the metallic shing of Kaiba’s sword coming out of its sheath seemed small, in an unnatural way, a pointless, petty defiance. 

A shadow fell across the lake valley. 

Both of them looked up -

and an enormous dragon hurtled out of the sky, landing with thundering force on all four clawed feet, flattening trees and boulders beneath its reptilian bulk. Ryou staggered backwards and fell, in an awkward, clumsy crab pose; Kaiba threw his shield over his face and dug in, undaunted.

"HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME?" the dragon boomed. “MISERABLE WRETCH?”

Kaiba lowered his shield, just enough for his first full look at the dragon. From his spot, crumpled on the ground, Ryou saw, in the shadow below the shield, another slender smile. The dragon’s hide was a dark, luxurious blue-black, mottled like snakeskin but textured with the heavy crags and knobs of crocodiles. It lowered its head on its long, arching neck, gracefully bearing the weight of two massive, curving horns, and stared down at them with fathomless acid-green eyes.

Even Ryou, who had designed it, sat enthralled: every movement it made - the eager flick of its tail, the claws, curling into the dirt, glinting under a layer of blood and grime, the shuddering of its leathery wings as they folded into its long body - hinted at indomitable power. It was a true creature of legend, a titan from the youngest days of the world, demanding both reverence and terror.

“I have!” Kaiba replied blithely, despite announcing it in a ringing voice.

“ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE CAN DEFEAT ME,” the dragon said. “YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF SUCH A FEAT. I SEE YOUR HEART, BLACKGUARD KNIGHT. I CAN TASTE THE BLOOD YOU’VE SPILLED WITH YOUR SWORD, BRIGHT AND PUNGENT. I CAN HEAR THE CRIES OF ALL THE LIVES YOU’VE LET EBB INTO THE DIRT AT YOUR FEET!”

“I’m here to avenge the village!” Kaiba shouted. 

“YOU COME UP HERE TO DEFEND SOME PATHETIC SCRAPS OF BRICK AND WOOD, THINKING YOU CAN KILL ME, AND CALL THAT HONOR? REDEMPTION? YOU CALL THAT COURAGE? ITS TRUE NAME IS VANITY! EMPTY AND FALSE! IT WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN BEFORE I DO!” the dragon boomed again. “LEAVE. I WAS ONCE NAIVE AND VAIN LIKE YOU. COME BACK WHEN YOU ARE MORE THAN A MERE WORM, OR ELSE SUFFER MY FATE!”

Ryou had clambered to his feet and bolted for the safety of a low ridge, which gave him a perfect view of Kaiba, head held high and proud as he gazed unflinching at the dragon, several hundred times his size. He’d written those words in his notebook on the metro, leaning his head against the cool midnight glass, pausing every other line to ferret out another piece of sour candy from his bag. Then he’d missed his stop. That trundling, light-washed world of a train car seemed impossibly distant now - a rapidly fading dream, to be remembered only in flashes and silence. To hear the words come out of the smoking jaws of this dragon, each syllable flowing in a delicious, indulgent baritone from its shining teeth, filled him with a breathless exhilaration, his heart hammering in his throat - this was real!

“Only one of us is suffering fate today!” Kaiba shouted back, a laugh in his voice, and then threw a glance at Ryou. “‘Suffer my fate?’ Is that a typo?”

“VERY WELL. COME KILL ME! THERE IS PEACE IN DEATH, AND ONLY ONE OF US CAN CLAIM IT!”

“I - watch out!” Ryou yelled, as the dragon lunged forward, its jaws snapping shut on the empty air where Kaiba had been standing half a second before. Kaiba threw himself out of the way, a nimble tuck and roll, and scrabbled across the shale towards higher ground. Behind him, the dragon swung its massive head, nostrils red and flaring, mouth curled up in a savage draconic grin, glinting with the promise of violence. 

No sooner had Kaiba flung himself behind a scattering of boulders, shield raised, than it unleashed a jet of fire so hot and scorching the boulders glowed red, their rough faces melting in sheets. Ryou felt the heat wash across his face, from several dozen yards away. 

The fire died out. The dragon snorted in satisfaction, horse-like, a loud, wet huff of smoke. The boulders sizzled as they cooled into their new, bizarrely dripping forms.

Kaiba emerged from behind a boulder, sweating and singed, his face streaked with ash and his eyes shining. He tossed the warped, melted wreckage of his shield aside, where it bounced and clattered against the rocks.

“SO YOU STILL LIVE? A MISTAKE. WHAT COMES NEXT WILL HURT WORSE!”

“For you!” Kaiba hurled back, and threw his hand into the air, a gesture Ryou had seen countless times on a duel field - a lightning rod, a summoning. “VENTUS!” 

The wind picked up, in a giddy, howling whirl, bringing with it a cloud of dust that descended gritty and blinding and pale across the valley. Kaiba and the dragon vanished from sight inside it. Mentally Ryou subtracted one spell from Kaiba’s satchel.

“THIS WON’T HELP Y - ” Cut off by a wet chop and an ear-splitting draconic scream, a raw, awful sound, torn out of an unwilling throat. Just below it, a glorious, cascading laugh. “WRETCH! WORM!”

The dust settled, revealing glistening, dark-green blood splattered across the rocks, and a single severed claw, its flesh still twitching. The dragon seethed, its wounded foot curled in agony. Kaiba was clear across the other side of the pass, by the dragon’s tail, grinning open-mouthed as he panted for breath. His chainmail and surcoat dripped with dragon blood; his hair was thick with it. 

“COME GET YOUR PEACE, DRAGON!” he bellowed, and the dragon slung its head around, tail coiling in an ominous whip. 

Again Kaiba lifted his hand, shouted “VENTUS - !”

And a second dust cloud barreled into the valley, as the dragon roared back, “THAT WON’T WORK AGAIN!”

It whipped its tail through the dust cloud, a scythe-like sweep - smacking something hard into the rocks with a thick, fleshy crunch of bone that made Ryou’s insides clench tight with terrified sympathy.

The dragon whirled around, clearing the dust with several storm-gathering wingbeats.

This was not real. This was just pixels, neatly arranged and running in rivers of algorithms - just a clever series of ones and zeroes - and yet Ryou gasped, the dragon laughing, at the sight of Kaiba lying in a crumpled, motionless heap in the rocks. He hadn’t considered Kaiba might actually fail to kill the dragon - all thoughts of jobs and game-writing abandoned - unreality aside, the mind had a way of making it real - what the fuck happened if Kaiba died?

“IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE, WORM?” the dragon said, nudging Kaiba’s limp body with its claws, rolling him over. His head lolled, his body twisted into a horrifying, broken-boned slouch. How on earth was Ryou going to explain this to Yuugi? Hell. “I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE NOT W - ”

Ryou almost didn’t see it - a hawk in a dive, arrow-straight, from the top of the sky, diving through a blinding flash of light several stories up - and out of the light came Kaiba, alive and whole, plummeting towards the dragon’s head, gripping his sword with both hands - plunging it straight through the top of the dragon’s skull. 

He left the sword hilt-deep in dragon flesh as he pitched forward with the force of impact, rolling over the dragon’s brow, flailing to catch himself - on the massive horn. Clinging, victorious, as the great dragon swayed, its green eyes filming, and finally slumped, in agonized slow motion, to the earth, body first, head last, with a thundering, bone-rattling crash. 

It released one last, rattling breath, the trees shuddering in the fetid breeze.

The valley descended into stillness once more. 

Ryou sat down on his low escarpment with a limp thump, burying his face in both hands. This was just a Virtual World, where at one point everything would power down and they’d wake up safe and sound in the squishy, air-conditioned comfort of a pod, and he had, after all, planned on Kaiba killing the dragon, but Kaiba’s sheer nerve seemed beyond that. Yuugi was right. The guy was, maybe, a little nuts. Completely off his rocker.

“Ryou,” Kaiba said, above him, and Ryou lifted his head. Kaiba rested the sword jauntily across his shoulder, the rest of him filthy with dragon blood and human blood and dirt. “I have to say, I enjoyed your dragon. A shame it had to die.”

“Your strategy... You used a glamour spell? On a... rock? To make it look like your dead body,” Ryou said. “And then a transformation spell.”

“Correct. Is that all for your demo?” Kaiba said, cocking an eyebrow, both bloody and disdainful, and Ryou swallowed. “I was hoping for more of a cha - ”

His words stopped hard in his throat, a harsh, hacking sound. His free hand flew to his neck, mouth dropping open in pain and confusion, eyes widening. He coughed - or tried to, achieving nothing more than a thin, ugly retching, his face going white - and Ryou watched, in fascinated horror, as his gamble began to play out. There was nothing he could do to help; he’d written it that way.

The sword clattered to the stones, green blood dripping off the shining edge, as Kaiba staggered sideways, gasping for breath, both hands on his neck - what was the algorithm doing to him? Ryou had only written ‘a suffocating, squirming pain, concentrated in the lungs,’ and resolved to think more carefully about what types of pain he might inflict on the player characters, if the gamble paid off... But how interesting to know even the creator of the Virtual World himself suspended his disbelief - his knowledge of the truth - sometimes, and indulged in pain...

He collapsed to his knees, stretching one hand out, fisting it around Ryou’s collar and dragging him closer - 

“What - ” he choked out, eyes glaring into Ryou’s, in baffled, furious agony - terrified - they rolled backwards, the blue sliding away to white, as he slumped over himself. 

His hand went slack and fell. What life remained slipped away in a low, shaking sigh.

Ryou took him by the shoulders and gently lay him down, passing a hand over his eyes to close them. Dead, but not really.

“Just hold on a moment,” he said. The body had been vacated. The soul - the player - was awakening elsewhere.

He waited a few moments, absorbing the stillness, the detail on the leaves of the pine trees; the way the lake water shimmered in golden flecks with late afternoon light. It was maybe his last few seconds to enjoy the world he’d written, rendered in full splendor by the magic of technology, and he’d banished his anxiety from both his mind and body, to live out its exile in the real world. It didn’t belong here.

The great dragon body began to stir, drowsily, waking up from a deep, deep sleep. The deepest sleep.

Ryou stood up and slid down the escarpment to the dragon, pebbles and dust avalanching around his feet. The stab wound in its skull was knitting back together; the severed claw was crawling back to its slow-bleeding joint. There was an agonized hiss, forced through the dragon’s tightly-clenched teeth, and a vibrating groan, deep in its chest, as it gathered itself out of death.

Its eyes opened, in wary slits - not the bright, acid green, but a stunning, oceanic blue.

“OW. FUCK,” it growled, in Kaiba’s voice, magnified and twice as resonant. “OPEN MASTER COMMANDS, USER ID 000002510. SUSPEND ALL PAIN ALGORITHMS. CLOSE MASTER COMMANDS.”

He rolled upright, flexing his wings with experimental care. He arched his neck, looking down at Ryou.

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON.”

“Yes,” Ryou said cautiously.

“NO ONE HAS EVER TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON BEFORE,” Kaiba said. ”SO I WASN’T WORTHY? IS THIS WHAT IT MEANS TO SUFFER THE DRAGON’S FATE? EVERYONE WHO KILLS THE DRAGON BECOMES THE DRAGON, AND ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE BREAKS THE CYCLE. IS THAT HOW IT GOES?”

“That’s how it goes.”

“HOW DO I FIND THE CHOSEN ONE?”

“You choose them,” Ryou said. “You decide what makes them worthy.”

"SO ANYONE CAN BE THE CHOSEN ONE? ANYONE CAN BREAK MY CURSE?"

"That's right."

Kaiba pondered that for a moment, flexing his claws idly in the dirt, the massive slabs of muscle in his shoulders shifting as he tested the strength and fit of his new draconic body. His gaze drifted out over the lower valley, eyes clouding briefly with memories of another story, another game, another man; one who had always seemed real and unreal, all at once, no matter what world he lived in. Ryou had heard it all from Yuugi.

Then Kaiba looked at him and started to laugh, a sound that echoed and rebounded across the small lake valley, the water shivering as each delighted peal of laughter rolled across. Ryou blushed as it buffeted him from all sides.

“IS THAT SO,” Kaiba said, with dry relish. “YOU’RE HIRED.”

[cl-01-kestis]

My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 8

Summary: After reuniting with the force and discovering your past as a Padawan, you join Cere and Greez, and Merrin in hopes to restore the Jedi order.

Warnings: violence

You woke from your meditation hours after, eyes stinging from the sudden light pouring into your room. Never in your life had your body felt so relaxed, so comfortable and at ease. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t have a back ache or a sore neck. It felt nice.

You walked into the main hanger of the ship and yawned, stretching your arms out and covering your mouth as you approached the holotable located in the centre. You looked over to your right and noticed a young woman with stone grey skin and silver hair, her eyes were dark and she had unmistakable markings on her face. You couldn’t believe your eyes, that was a Nightsister.

You remember your time at the Jedi temple, your master spoke a lot of nightsisters and warned you about them, calling them witches and trouble makers. You had never met a Nightsister before so you didn’t have a personal opinion of them.

The Nightsister spotted you at the table, didn’t flinch or jolt at your sudden appearance. She kept a respectful stare on you and it seemed that she wasn’t causing any trouble, she didn’t seem that intimidating either. You wanted to speak to her, but you were aware about the situation with the Nightsisters. She might as well be the last of her kind, you doubt she’d want to trust anyone or speak to anyone after what happened on Dathomir.

But still, you decided to sit at the other side of the couch and sat with your elbows on your knees, hands clasped as you looked up at the holotable and spectated all the planets that were available to go to. The Nightsister turned her head to look at you, her eyes neither judgmental or wary, she simply just looked and sighed as though she was underwhelmed by something. You paid no mind to it and continued to look at all the planets until Cere appeared from the cockpit and smiled warmly at you.

“How did it go?” Her voice was eager and excited, standing in front of you a few paces away from you and crossing her arms over her chest as she awaited your answer. You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It went great, Cere, I saw Shaak, she was there” You rejoyced in a calm yet happy voice, earning a bright grin from Cere who was more than happy for you.

“That’s wonderful” She gave you a loose hug and patted your back, her heart was filled with warmth at your rediscovery and she felt as though she finally accomplished something useful, something meaningful.

“Sorry for being so abrupt, but is there a shower I can use around here? I stink of oil” You laughed, sniffing the sleeve of your mucky shirt and pulling a disgusted, scrunched up face. Cere chuckled, pointing you to the hallway you just came out from and directing you to the showers.

“Straight on and on your left, next to your room” She said, smiling as you thanked her and quickly rushed off to get a shower.

Merrin stood up from her chair, walking towards Cere whilst watching you scurry away.

“I’m not sure she’s the right person for this” The Nightsister whispered, leaning close to Cere so neither you or Greez knew what they were speaking of.

“She is, I’m certain of it” Cere insisted, nervously fiddling with her necklace and pursing her lips at the kick of hope within the Nightsister.

“What is she ends up like Cal?” Merrin had to ask, her friend had been taken by darkness and she didn’t want the same happening to you even though she hardly knew you. Cere’s head snapped in Merrin’s direction and for a second she didn’t know how to reply. The mentioning of their old friends name caused a stir within Cere and her heart collapsed remembering him.

“She’s strong, she’s older than him as well... her master was a wise woman, I doubt (Y/N) would want to face her disappointment” Was Cere’s answer, earning a sharp eye roll from Merrin who returned to her seat and folded her arms over her chest.

“You said the same thing about Cal” Merrin grumbled, tears of frustration filled her dark eyes and Cere felt guilty for a moment, watching as Merrin wiped her eyes and sniffed.

“What if he gets her? What will happen then?” She continued, but that was the last of her pushing questions. Merrin stood up and stormed to her room, leaving Cere alone in the main hanger of the ship to think about the conversation they just had, maybe Merrin had a point.

Cere never forgot the say she lost Cal to Trilla, her old Padawan. She’ll never forget the feeling of horror when she saw Cal in that black and red uniform. She was too late to save him from the dark side, but she wasn’t going to let that same mistake happen to you. Even if Cal was after you, you were proven to be stronger than him, in many ways that you didn’t realise just yet. Cere had to let you meditate again, she needed to let you see more of your past and discover more powers you forgot about. You were her last hope, you were all she had left.

-

Getting into the showers, you threw your towel over the door handle and made sure it was locked before grabbing the handle and twisting it. It squeaked in an almost deafening high pitch as cold icy water came out of the shower head, giving a great shock to your toes which where in the wet zone of the shower cubicle.

There was only one in the ship, it was fairly spacious and it had the necessities for cleaning and getting the dirt off you.

The sound of water hitting the ground echoed around the shower cubicle and it mushed together with your busy thoughts. You got your head under the shower and gasped at the bitter cold of the water, your body tensing and goosebumps raising as a response. It felt good though, you can’t remember the last time you had a shower.

You held your head underneath the shower for a few minutes, letting the water deep through just to be sure you were going to clean it correctly. You grabbed the shampoo bottle closest to you and squirted it into your hand, rubbing it together before smearing it all over your scalp and massaging it into your hair. You felt euphoria as you felt all the mud and rain leave your hair, brushing your fingers through tangled bits of hair and winding as you accidentally pulled some strands out.

After rinsing out your hair, you scrubbed your face with your hands and scrubbed your body with soap will it was sore. You had to be 100% certain you were clean, you wouldn’t leave the cubicle unless you were absolutely positive.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the shower for, probably under an hour at most. You turned the faucet off and wrapped your body in the towel on the door handle. You rubbed your hair until it was no longer dripping with water before creeping out of the cubicle and scurrying to your room, only to realise you had no fresh clothes.

You looked around your room, through the drawers of the cabinet in hopes something would’ve there. Nothing. Damnit. You flushed a furious red as you chewed your nails, other hand holding the towel wrapped around your body.

A light knock behind you caught your attention and you turned around to see who it was. To your surprise, it was the Nightsister. In her hands she held a pair of fresh clothes that appeared to be hers. A red tunic and a black long sleeved shirt, black leggings and red boots.

“It’s not much, but it’ll do” She spoke to, catching you off guard with her thick Dathomirian accent but you found it unique.

“Thank you” You smiled, using one hand to take the neatly folded pile of clothes from her arms all whilst holding your towel on. The Nightsister bowed her head respectfully and returned the smile.

“I’m Merrin” She blurted out, fiddling with her hands behind her back as she tried to smile without feeling awkward or embarrassed. Your smile only widened and you bowed your head back.

“I’m (Y/N)” You said, watching as the Nightsister nodded her head to you once again before turning around and closing the door, leaving you in peace to get changed and into more comfortable attire.

-

You weren’t sure what time it was, possibly around 3 in the morning. You’d lost track of time a long time ago on Bracca and at this point your body was malfunctioning and lost its rhythm of sleep. You slept a solid 2 hours since you arrived on the Mantis, mostly because you couldn’t get to sleep with all the thoughts running wild in your head. So you decided to stay up and join Cere on the couches. You fit well in Merrin’s clothes, thankfully you and her were similar sizes.

“Alright people, we’re in coming to Kashyyyk, saddle yourselves up” Greez called from the cockpit, alerting you and Cere and interrupting your conversation. Merrin emerged from her room, clearly practicing her witchcraft, and strapped herself in to the seat behind you in the cockpit.

You remembered the last time you were in Kashyyyk, it felt like years ago. Your eyes widened as they fixated on the familiar vibrant greens and blues of the Wookie dominated planet, heart thumping in your chest as if the occurances that happened months ago would happen all over again. You couldn’t afford that, neither could Cal.

“Are you alright? You seem a bit tense” Cere asked curiously, turning her head to look at you as her eyes held reassurance and serenity. You nodded your head, your lips in a thin line as you struggled to keep the memory of you and Cal meeting at bay.

There was a strange surge in your stomach, something felt wrong as the Mantis aoproached the landing bay at the hidden Rebel base. Cere was worried, she could feel how uneasy you were. She wanted to ask more but it had to wait for later.

As soon as Greez landed, you unfastened your seatbelt and bolted to your room, fetching your lightsaber before returning to the middle of the ship, meeting Cere and Merrin half way. The two women stared at you with wide eyes as you walked out bravely on the open ramp and scanned the area. You ignited your lightsaber, the feeling in your stomach grew stronger as your feet touched the green grass of the planet and the wind swirled around you.

“Stay inside” You called to Cere, walking forward to investigate the area. Cere wasn’t sure whether to follow you or let you do your thing, she could feel how on edge you were and by the looks of it Merrin could as well.

“Should we listen to her?” The Nightsister turned to Cere with questionable eyes, looking back and forth at you two until Cere shook her head and pointed to you as you finally came to a stand still and closed your eyes.

There was a faint noise in the distance, it sounded heavy. Mechanical feet stomping on the grass and nearby as you slowly crept back. Your predictions were true, the Empire was here.

“Are there any rebels here?” You asked, running back to the ship with urgency and desperation in your voice. Cere nodded and pointed to the entrance to the base which was a small secluded door that was extremely hard to see. Quickly, you thanked her and ran to the door.

“The Empire are here, we need to evacuate the area” You yelled over your shoulder, sprinting to the entrance and slamming your fist onto the brass door which was concealed by leaves and dirt.

You heart footsteps behind the door, lots of them, and the door opened to reveal a man with heavy war armour and ran skin, a bald head and dark eyes.

“Who are you?” He asked sternly, eyes narrowed and fixated on you as you raised your hands up to prove you weren’t here to cause any harm.

“I’m (Y/N), listen, I know you don’t know me but I spotted an AT-ST nearby. You need to evacuate now” You were straight to the point, earning a gasp from the man in front of you before he looked behind you to see the Mantis and Cere who was standing, waving on the ramp to signal they had ally’s.

“Are you a Jedi?” The man asked, and for a moment you felt your heart leap.

“Yes” You answered, feeling an overwhelming amount of adrenaline pumping through your blood as you confirmed who you were. The man tinged a smile, moving to the side to let you in and share the evac info to the rebels within the base. There was a lot of them, you could already feel that this was going to be a long operation.

It took a while to get everyone’s attention and spread the word that the Empire had arrived on Kashyyyk, a few rebels cried, others were determined to fight. It was a disasterous heap of nerves and emotions.

You learned the man in the war armour’s name was Saw Garrera, he was a freedom fighter and a rebel like the rest of the people there, but you can’t remember seeing him during your time as a rebel. You introduced yourself and helped him prepare for evacuation. Many other rebels prepared for war.

You wanted to fight, I mean, you had a lightsaber now, and the force! You’ve meditated a few times already before you landed on Kashyyyk and you remember so many tricks and skills up your sleeve that could be very useful in situations such as facing the Empire in battle, especially for that.

“We’ll evacuate those who do not want to fight, if you aren’t evacuating, please follow (Y/N) and help the others onto the transports” Saw yelled over the loud commotion within the Rebel crowd. All of them nodded and only moved faster at this, running and skidding around the underground hide out.

“Saw” You grabbed the commanders attention quickly so you could try and wrap your head around with what’s going on.

“What if there’s an Inquisitor?” You asked.

“Then that’s for you to handle” Was his reply, sharp and it caused you to mutter a cursive under your breath. You were the one with the lightsaber after all, don’t get all weak now (Y/N). You thought to yourself.

There wasn’t much time to doddle about and daydream, you helped board the transports and there was one left behind for those who were fighting. Saw Garerra stayed behind and decided to fight with you, his faith in this fight was sky high and it was clear he expected much from you.

Once the transports were off, you and 20 other rebels were left behind, loading guns and checking ammo. You inspected many blasters and snipers to check that they were stable enough to use, polishing the pipes and making sure the triggers weren’t stiff. Next to you was a young girl, she was polishing rifles and rubbing her nose on the sleeve of her khaki jacket. You glanced at her for a few seconds, realising she was far too young to be involved in a fight such as this but you decided to stay quiet in case she took it personal.

You spoke with a few other rebels stationed nearby, some that were suiting up and others who were checking the cameras outside to see if the enemy was near.

“We’ve got an AT-ST south exit” One rebel reported, it implied to whoever was working beside them and by the looks of it things were getting hectic outside.

You looked back to the blaster in your hands, noticing it had a small rebel sign carved onto its side. You looked around and snuck the rifle onto your belt, just to be sure you had the right weapons and a backup if your saber went missing. Everyone around you finalised their equipment and approached the door with confidence, yet you could feel the pressure surrounding them. This wasn’t their first fight but they feared it would be their last.

You walked up to the front since the rebels moved to make a line for you, watching intently as you ignited your lights saber, illuminating everyone’s face and even making some of the rebels gasp. It was clear some of them had never seen a lightsaber before, or met a Jedi. You smiled at their curiosity before kicking the door open with as much strength as you could muster, immediately sprinting outside to the scorching sun of Kashyyyk and immediately hearing blaster shots in the distance.

The rebels followed you, yelling and chanting with rage and anger towards the Stormtroopers ahead.

“Go! I’ll take care of the AT-ST!” You yelled to all of them, running to the side and letting the Rebels take the lead as you sprinted to the south exit where the mini Walker stalked the grounds.

You crept up onto a nearby slope, spying on the AT-ST that trampled over the greenery and nature of the planet, it hurt your heart to see how much destruction it caused.

Just as you were bout to strike and jump onto its head, you were met with a flashback, an unlocked memory.

“Concentrate (Y/N), enemy vehicles are always hard to take down but you need to make it quick and swift” Wolffe’s voice echoed in your mind and slowly, the force filled your body and you remembered your training, another missing piece that was useful in situations such as this.

You sprinted towards the Walker and pounced on it within seconds, grabbing onto the head with one hand and using the other to cut into the inside and grab whoever was steering it. The Walker started spinning in circles, as if the person inside was trying to find you and see what was happening. Your saber cut through the top like butter as soon enough, you were let face to face with an Imp who’s eyes were blown open with fear and shock. Pulling him out, you threw him to the ground and knocked him out immediately, you didn’t want any blood on your hands just yet.

Getting into the Walker, you looked at the controls cluelessly, there were so many. The rebel inside You was itching to steer it and use it on the stormtroopers, but the Jedi in you wanted to hand it over to someone else so you could focus on what was really important. Conflicted, you decided to push a few buttons and see what the Walker did. It steered around and you were thrown to the side, face slamming against the wall and causing you to groan out in pain.

“Okay... maybe not” You told yourself, avoiding the button you just pushed and instead going for the steering wheel. You had no clue what you were doing, you just went with your gut instinct and steered it towards the fight. It felt so heavy, the feet practically slammed against the earth and made you tumble inside it with every step it took. You grumbled in frustration, trying to keep yourself in place as you trampled over forest territory and towards the fighting and the sound of blaster shots.

Before you knew it, a few rebels began shooting at you, thinking it was still in Imperial hands. You were quick to stand up, ducking as a blaster shot missed you by a hair. “It’s me!” You exclaimed, waving your arms for the rebels to see and feeling relief as they lowered their blasters and apologised to you profusely.

“Sorry about that, Jedi!” A young rebel girl yelled up to you, her hand cupping the side of her mouth so her voice could echo. You waved her off and shrugged, hands pressed on the edge of the walkers head and looking out to the land of Kashyyyk. You had such a better view up on the Walker, you could see the fight from where you were located and witnessed a flurry of red blaster shots and flames. Your instinct was to get there as quickly as possible.

“Someone take this, i gotta go!” You exclaimed, grabbing your saber and jumping out of the Walker with clumsiness before sprinting past the rebels and towards the battlefield.

You ignited your lightsaber as you approached the field of scrambled Rebels and stormtroopers. You jumped right into the mix and ran to the middle of the battle, raising your saber and concentrating on blocking the blaster shots and deflecting them so they could return to the person who shot them and hopefully hit them as a result. The Rebels around you were relieved now that you were here, helping them out with everything you had and putting your all into the fight. This was the first time you’d fight as a Jedi, adrenaline flowed through you but so did the Force, controlling your every move and helping you balance and get rid of the anxiety you had moments before. The force was helpful when it came to deflecting shots and charging at stormtroopers, lightsaber gripped tightly in your hand as you struck them down one by one.

You let it guide you through battle and dodging enemy attacks effortlessly, cutting through the piles of white armour and securing the area as though it was an easy task. Your heart wrenched as a few Rebels were taken down, crying out for them as you went for their killer with your lightsaber, no hesitance in taking their life quicker than they took the rebels.

The stormtroopers were reluctant attacking you as they watched you take down so many enemies, so many bodies of white and black that hit the ground faster than you could say ‘Bantha’. They eventually called a retreat but you weren’t finished yet, you kept going after them along side the other rebels who certainly weren’t finished with them either. Angry cries left their lips as they shot down the remainder of the troop, bodies falling and eventually coming to a halt when none of them were standing.

A sudden silence erupted amongst the group of rebels behind you, no one spoke a word as a strange sound ripples through the sky above. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, you felt like your throat was about to dry up and you’d suffocate on your own breath. The very distant echo of a Tie howled above you and the rebels, their first instinct was to immediately run and get to the transport as soon as possible. You turned around and looked up behind the rebels, head tilted slightly as your eyes met a Tie fighter charging right towards your location, practically the size of your fingertip but slowly getting closer and closer.

“We have to go! The Inquisutor is coming” The young rebel from earlier called out, tugging on your arm desperately to get your attention in hopes you’d come with her and board the transport.

“No” You replied, voice firm and sure of what you were about to do.

“Are you sure? You’ll be killed!” She argued.

“Someone has to stay behind to distract them, you go ahead and board the ship, we’ll see each other again. Please, can you tell my crew I might be a while?” You pressed a reassuring arm on her shoulder and looked up to meet her scared eyes, eyes that only recently witnessed the death of her friends.

The girl had no other option but to nod and listen to your command, tears welling up in her blue eyes as she sniffed and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her grubby clothes.

“Please be careful” She whimpered, patting your shoulder a few times before running off into the trees to reunite with her comrades and board the transport that awaited them.

You smiled as you watched her disappear, but the smile was short lived when the tie from earlier was right behind you and was currently landing, the leaves and grass around you blowing away in every direction which caused your hair to whip in your face. You didn’t dare turn around, scared to see whoever it was as you quickly blocked off your force aura and made sure the Inquisitor didn’t recognise who you were. The ship soon came to a halt and you heard the hatch open up, the clear footsteps of an Inquisitor landing on the ground as they jumped down from the ship.

You tensed, unable to recognise who it was but you still didn’t turn around, you kept your head high and fought back the fear as you awaited their move.

“So... you’re the Jedi I’ve heard so much about”.

Your heart stopped and you felt like you were going to throw up at the least, a horrific churning stirred in your stomach as you recognised the voice of Cal Kestis standing right behind you.

You realised now how late you were at explaining yourself, your lightsaber out, ignited and on full show as your back faced the man you loved with every bone in your body. You fought back tears now, biting your lip and hoping he wouldn’t so much as hate you when he realised who it was standing in front of him.

“Is someone shy? Uncommon for filth like you” He continued, you felt a sting in your heart as he spoke his words of disgust. You weren’t used to this Cal, you didn’t like it. Not one bit. But overtime you started to realise that this was really who he was, this was his job, his lifestyle. He was now your hunter, and you were his pray.

Sucking in a breath, you swallowed your fear and turned your head slightly, unable to see anything but his feet. Slowly but surely, you turned around and you were finally face to face with Cal. He wasn’t wearing his helmet which meant you could see every bit of shock break out of his face when he realised it was you. His golden eyes snapped open and he took an almost offended step back, his lightsaber already ignited before he realised it was you and his other hand balled into a fist.

“What-“ He blinked a couple of times just to check he was seeing correctly, lips quivering and heart racing in his chest.

“When did this happen” His voice wasn’t friendly, full of demand and frustration as he gritted his teeth and his hand clenched around the hilt of his lightsaber. You tensed at his sudden change of emotion and took a cautious step back, lightsaber slowly readying in case he had any ideas as he stood meters away from you.

“Yesterday, I already feel so welcome” You said sarcastically, you started circling one another like predators with their prey, ready for whatever was about to happen but also hesitating because of your feelings towards each other.

“I don’t want to fight you (Y/N)... just give me the lightsaber and we can act like none of this happened” Cal’s voice came out more reassuring this time, realising a hand out to you as the other still gripped his scarlet lightsaber. You scrunched your face up in confusion, eyes sharp and narrow as they concentrated on your boyfriends face.

“No” You muttered, shaking your head and making your answer known to the Inquisitor in front of you who’s gold eyes were ablaze with rising anger. Cal didn’t want to raise his voice to you, he didn’t even want to lay a finger on you, he was angry because he wished it wasn’t you who he was up against. Out of all the Jedi left, you had to be one of them. You were the thing he was trained to kill.

“It doesn’t have to be this way” You called out to Cal in a more confident and clear tone, scared that he would take it the wrong way as you two continued circling one another.

“Come with me” You carried on, raising your own hand this time and spreading it out so he could take it. Bewildered, Cal took another step back and swallowed a lump in his throat, not sure where to look as he trembled. There was a war going on in his head, a war he couldn’t conquer just yet. He looked back up to meet your desperate gaze and softly shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that” He shook his head and his voice croaked out to you as if he was holding back tears, you could feel the sadness and guilt from where he was standing. It made your head dizzy. You wanted him to come with you, maybe run away with you and start a new life. But he wasn’t for budging, you could tell it would take some time to get him to think about leaving his life as a killing machine behind.

It pained you to see him like this, it also didn’t help that neither of you had seen each other in over a month and your meeting wasn’t on good terms. He was here to kill you, you knew it.

“I’m not going to fight you Cal, I’m not” You unsheathed your lightsaber that once was his, clipping it to your belt but a part of you was screaming to get it back in your hand and defend yourself. Cal didn’t unsheath his own and kept still, eyes wide and his brows furrowed.

He didn’t say anything, his bottom lip quivered as he sucked in a shaky breath and tore his gaze from you.

After what felt like minutes, he unsheathed his lightsaber and his hand was shaking violently as he held it. You sighed in relief, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you awaited his further actions.

“Where did you get that lightsaber?” He asked, eyes flickering to your waist where the lightsaber lay. You took a hesitant step closer to him, taking the lightsaber from your belt again but not igniting it.

“Bracca” You answered truthfully, watching his gaze shift from curious to confused.

“What were you doing there?” His voice was hoarse all of a sudden, like his old life was flashing before his eyes at the mention of his old home.

“A mission with the rebels” You looked at the lightsaber and traced it with your fingertips intricately. Cal watched you with a soft gaze, he looked down at your lips and all of a sudden felt his heart speed up just that little bit more.

Cal wanted to kiss you, but he wasn’t sure how many eyes were on you right now. You were both amongst bodies of fallen stormtroopers and rebels, it wasn’t entirely the most ideal place to kiss you. But maker he wanted to, he wanted to kiss you even though he was supposed to kill you. Sharp pain lingered in his chest at the fact you were now a priority within the Inquisutors, another Jedi on the list to take out. As much as he is loyal to the Empire, he can’t take out the one person who made him feel true love for the first time in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, and it made him feel worthless. But in his head your life was more valuable than his, he’d die for you if it meant getting you away from the Empire. You weren’t aware of the impact you made on his life, you were the first and only person to have been put in front of his job, the meeting on Kashyyyk goes to prove it.

You looked down past the lightsaber in your hand and looked at Cal’s free hand which was balled into a fist. You reluctantly stroked it with your fingers, hand slowly but surely slipping into his own and intertwining. Cal felt all the stress and anxiety flush out of his system as he felt your hand in his, he looked up to you and all of a sudden his lightsaber dropped to the ground with a loud thud, proving how heavy it really was.

In a flash, his other hand cupped your cheek and he brought you in for a passionate, longing kiss that made your stomach flutter. You dropped your own lightsaber which landed next to his and wrapped your arms around his neck, his own wrapped tightly around your waist. You ran your fingers through his red hair, pulling him closer to kiss you deeper as his hands gripped your waist. His lips felt so soft against your own, teeth tugging on them softly as you opened your mouth to let him in. You weren’t sure how long you stood there kissing for, the sun started to set on Kashyyyk and you didn’t want to let him go so soon after not seeing him for more than enough time.

Cal dipped his head to your neck and bit down on it, lips teeth and tongue creating a dark bruise on your skin which you guranteed would be there for over a week. It felt sore, you tugged on his hair and let out a weak whimper as your eyes shut over. Cal smiled against your neck, biting down once more before leaning his head back and returning to your lips.

“(Y- (Y/N) are you there?” It was Merrin, her voice was static with the quality of the coms device on your wrist but you heard her loud and clear. You took a hesitant step back from Cal who’s arms were still around your waist.

“Yeah, I’m here” You replied, your voice cracking slightly which caused a blush to rise on your face as Cal chuckled silently and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank Maker you’re still alive, we were told an Inquisitor had arrived on Kashyyyk, are you alright?” She asked with worry, her heavy Dathomirian accent ringing out in the warm Kashyyyk air.

“I’m okay, a little hurt from a blaster shot but it’s just a scratch” You smiled, looking to Cal who frowned at your words and took a step back to inspect your body. You stifled a giggle as he spotted the blaster shot on your leg and looked like he was about to rip someone’s throat out.

“We’ve got bacta patches here, hurry up and get to the Mantis, Cere wants a word with you” Merrin sighed before switching off her coms and leaving you once more with your Inquisitor boyfriend.

Cal froze in his spot, looking up to you and opening his mouth to say something. Nothing came out of his mouth, you were guessing he just didn’t want to go and leave you once again.

Taking a step close to him, your heads leaned against one another and you closed your eyes, enjoying the silence between you and wrapping your arms around Cal once again to bid a painful farewell to him. Cal buried his head in your neck and hugged you tightly, stroking your hair as you yawned in his shoulder and caused him to chuckle.

“I should let you go” He sighed, pulling away and making you frown. Just as you were about to protest, you realised how late it was getting and how impatient Cere must be. You ruffled his hair playfully and made him laugh, his golden eyes narrowing as his cheek raised with the smile on his face.

“I really should get going” You mumbled, cupping his cheek and tracing it with your thumb. Cal closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, purring at the feeling until his eyes opened once more at the sound of a distant yell.

“I love you” You whispered to him, kissing him firmly and cupping the back of his neck as he kissed you back with just as much passion.

“I love you too” He pulled away, flicking your chin playfully with his index finger before you both picked up your lightsabers and gave each other one last yearning glance before running off in opposite directions, returning to the opposite lives you both had.

[bowl-of-shortness]

Would you mind saying that again?

Necromancer AU

It had been a relatively normal day, or, well, as “normal” as it could get when you’re secretly a necromancer walking the streets of very anti Necromancer Atlas.

Just a normal day, with the same forgettable Atlesian Soldiers sometimes ordering you around, and the same old ironwood not learning how to shut his mouth for at least a few seconds. Despite how annoying it was, Ozpin managed to bite his tongue and not shoot a comment back at the soldiers.

He had never liked Atlas. Not only did it mean horrible things to him, but was much different from Vale, in all the worst ways. It was dull, grey, and unfriendly. Atlas looked easily forgettable because of its appearance, but it was far from it due to the horrors these grey concrete walls hold.

But unfortunately, he had work to do. And so Ozpin dragged his feet on despite the irritation of having to be in a place where he isn’t welcome.

Eventually, he was at the door of the one person he had resented the most. The man who somehow thought they were “friends”. The giant iron plate on the door had bold words carved into it, “General Ironwood.”. He was there for a meeting, a meeting where Ironwood would most likely go off on one of his tangants about how necromancers are the worst people alive and how they deserve the worst, other than that Ozpin had no idea what the meeting was about. Not that he particularly cared.

Ozpin had already mentally prepared on the way here for this meeting, he had to everytime, since the General loved to go off constantly. Reluctantly, he knocked on the door. It opened to reveal Ironwood himself.

“I’m surprised General, normally you would have one of your soldiers open the door.” He mentioned as he walked inside the equally dull and grey office. Ironwood swiftly closed the door behind him, “I didn’t want my soldiers around for what we are going to talk about.”,

Ozpin inquired, mildly irritated, “And that is? You haven’t exactly mentioned what we are going to speak about today.” The two went to go sit down at the meeting room table.

“Ruby Rose.” He stopped walking. “What about her?” Ozpin grew nervous, he mentally pleaded for it not to be what he thought it was. “She is a necromancer, were you aware of that?” Ironwood said sharply. He mentally cursed, “Of course not. How could I have been?” Ozpin replied quickly, turning around to look at the General “If I had known I would’ve told you.” His tone was cold.

Ironwood nodded, “I figured you would have. I know that she’s here in Atlas traveling with you and playing the both of us like idiots, do you happen to know specifically where she is?” Oz found himself growing increasingly anxious as the conversation went on, he knew what would happen if he let Ironwood get anywhere near her, it happened with her mother, Pyrrha and countless others. He had to think of something, he had to warn her.

“I unfortunately do not, but I have a few ideas of where she might be. I personally feel it would be better if I went to go find her instead of your soldiers because she trusts me, if your soldiers go after her she might run.” Ozpin spoke, keeping the same tone as earlier, hiding his anxiety. He mentally breathed a sigh of relief he had a solid plan, and a good way to warn her without getting suspicious.

“I suppose that’s the easiest way isn’t it? Well, please go do that, I expect her to be here around sunset at the latest, good luck Ozpin.” Ironwood smiled, gods he hated that smile. The smile of a murderer who thinks he’s right.

“I will see you then.” Ozpin gritted his teeth as he left

Ozpin hurriedly rushed to the small hotel he, Qrow, Glynda and the kids had been staying at, one that not even the Atlas military knew existed.

As he ran up the stairs the conversation kept playing through his head, “I can’t let him do anything to her.” He mentally repeated over and over again. Once he got to the door he knocked frantically, Ruby answered. “Uncle Ozzy? Welcome back!” She smiled curiously. He melted slightly at the nickname and her smile.

He shook off the feeling quickly, now wasn’t the time for that, “Love, we need to go now, I know this may seem confusing but I will tell you as we get there.” He spoke anxiously.

Ruby’s smile faded “He found out, didn’t he?” She said quietly, he nodded sorrowfully “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head “Don’t be.”

“So,”

“What do I need to do?” She gave him a determined look.

——————————————————————————

If there was one, singular, thing Ironwood was good at, it was catching on to things he shouldn’t have caught onto.

The plan was quickly found out by ironwood and now his bloody soldiers were now running around vigorously looking for her.

This was his fault, he shouldn’t have done anything like this in the first place. He couldn’t worry about that now, this was where they were now. He had to do something to help Ruby, anything.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?! That stupid leech is running around the military base in bright red clothes and you ‘can’t find her’?! Get off your ass and do your damn job before I do it for you!” He suddenly heard Ironwood yell.

It irritated him to no end, this was how ironwood was, treated his soldiers like tools, treated necromancers like animals, and treated anyone he deemed under him horribly. But nothing would make him feel quite as angry as what happened next.

“Found You!” A soldier yelled, Ozpin’s heart stopped. He looked over and could see her struggling against the soldiers. And then she just, gave up.

Suddenly, everything was all too familiar. That red coat, now white, the feeling he had when he had to come home and tell her family what happened, the funeral, everything. He refused to put anyone through that again, he refused to let another person he cared about die again, and he refused to bare witness to it like he had done so many times before.

Ironwood put due process to Ruby’s head, and Ozpin’s breaking point was beyond reached.

Before he knew it, his magic lashed out across the room, throwing them all back with such force to knock many of the soldiers unconscious. This luckily included knocking Ironwood to the floor.

Ozpin wasn’t the kind of man to get angry, but to be okay with killing innocent people, to be okay with killing an innocent teenager, was one of those things to make him enraged.

He walked up to the now shaking Ironwood, beyond enraged. “Uncle Ozzy?” A small voice quietly said, Ozpin quickly turned his attention to the girl behind him. His expression softened. “Run, go find the others. I will catch up with you later” he said softly, but there was still a hint of anger that seeped through.

“What are you going to do?” She questioned. Ozpin looked behind him once more before looking back to the monster in front of him, “I believe I have some…business…to take care of”

She nodded and then left, good, he didn’t want her to see what was going to happen next.

“You—“ “knew? Yes I did, and you have a knack for finding out things you shouldn’t find out about.” He said being eerily calm. He started walking up to Ironwood as the General pathetically tried to back up, “You know I have a real issue with egotistical dictators who hurt my family.” He stops in front of him.

Ironwood originally didn’t think Ozpin was an intimidating person, quite the opposite in fact, but it seems he was very wrong with the way Ozpin was looking at him in this very moment. Eerily calm, tall as hell, and seeping rage. He wouldn’t let the silver haired man know that though, he needed to stand his ground. “You are scum of the earth, all of you are! You all deserve what Atlas gives you what I give you!!” He screamed. Ozpin stared at him, not saying a word.

There was a long silence, a long, uncomfortable, silence.

Ozpin shook his head and spoke “I don’t think you understand how much necromancers can actually do. We are beyond kind to revive people and give them life, but there’s another side to it you need to consider.”.

“A-and what’s that?” Ironwood nervously questioned, almost accusingly. All of sudden the General felt a massive amount of excruciating pain all throughout his body. “W-What the h-hell?!” He said through gritted teeth, trying not to yell at how painful it felt.

Ozpin crouched down to his level, it was only then did Ironwood notice his hand was glowing a mysterious green. And then, just as the green light went away, so did the pain. Ozpin stood up and looked at him, “We can take away life just as easily as we can give it, so I’d be careful with who you hurt. Just because Summer was nice enough to revive you doesn’t mean that I will be as forgiving.”. Now Ironwood was visibly frightened, good.

“The next time you come anywhere near a necromancer to kill them, keep in mind that we can take away life just as easily as we can give it.” Without speaking further, Ozpin walked past him to leave until he heard Ironwood’s painfully annoying voice.

“And why should I listen to you?! I’ll kill you, I’ll make sure of it!” The General yelled at Ozpin. “Funny thing about killing me,” He turned around and stared at Ironwood “I. Can’t. Be. Killed.” Ironwood paled.

“Or, well, I can, but it won’t stay that way for long.” Ozpin shrugged nonchalantly “It’s a nice thought though.” He turned around again before stopping once more at the sound of Ironwoods voice, dear god this was getting annoying.

“Then I’ll kill those stupid brats! They don’t deserve to exist, and I’ll kill that leech the same way I killed her monster of a mother. I’ve done it once and I’ll do it again, Ozpin.” He said, his voice filled with anger and fear. This time Ozpin broke his facade of calmness. “Oh?” Ozpin challenged before turning around and walking towards the general.

All of sudden that horrible pain was back, but worse, and Ironwood couldn’t stop from yelling out in pain this time. He couldn’t even move the pain was so unbearable. Ozpin loomed over him. His eyes were…green?

“Oh dear.” He started “Would you mind saying that again?” Ozpin questioned, feigning politeness as he crouched down to Ironwood’s level.

“I don’t think I heard you very well.”

[hermits-that-craft]

Love Run, The Song You Know's Begun.

"Though some would harm you, none - not one - no none Would raise to you a hand nor thumb Not while by you I stand and hum" - The Amazing Devil, Love Run Reprise --- The afterlife. Choices. Broken Promises.

Cross posted on ao3. Link in reblog

He wakes up in a meadow, surrounded by lilies, marigolds, poppies and white carnations. He blinks slowly, looking up at the sky. It’s synthetic. Perfectly painted. The sky is a beautiful baby blue, and he can see the paint strokes in the clouds.

He isn’t angry though. He can’t find it in himself to be angry. He hardly remembers who he is.

Where he is.

He stands, running his hand through his hair. He’s wearing a long sleeved white shirt, with a red collar and arms. His pants are beige, pockets filled with rocks and faded photos. His heart yearns, but he doesn’t move, the flowers growing through his feet and anchoring him to the meadow. Blood pools at his feet, runs in front of his eyes. His skin is littered black and blue.

But he isn’t in pain.

He can’t move.

“You have a choice” The universe whispers to him, gently in the breeze. “You can go back, or you can move forward. You were ripped from that world too soon.”

It’s regret, what's on her voice. At least, thats what he thinks it is.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” He asks her. “What’s my name? Why am I bleeding?”

“You have a choice,” The universe reiterates. “You can go back, or you can move forward. I cannot tell you about your past. I will not tell you of your future. This choice is entirely yours.”

“How will I know?”

“You will feel it. You will feel the pull towards one option or another.”

“What if,” He pauses, uncertain. “What if I don’t want to choose?”

“Then you will be split between both. Half will move forward. Half will go back.” The universe seems to want to say something, as though she believes that she is leaving something out that is important.

“Can I stay here?” His voice is small, uncertain. “I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want to be an adult anymore.”

A woman appears in the meadow. Her dark, shoulder length hair flows gently in the breeze, golden cloak swaying with the grass. She wears a black, sleeveless top and black cargo pants, alongside leather boots. She turns to him, and her eyes look like the stars. She isn’t Clara - the emptiness of the void does not exist here - but he knows her.

He’s seen her in the photos on someone’s walls. Heard about her in another’s tales. Felt her in a person’s embrace.

She is the universe.

She is Kristen.

She walks to him silently, tears welling in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug. It’s warm, the warmth he craved from before, but not dangerously so. He isn’t cold anymore. She holds him as he breaks. He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know what he left behind. He doesn’t know where he is or what he is. But he knows her.

“I can’t keep you here.” She whispers to him. “My boy, my son, how I wish I could. Someone awaits you on both sides. You should go to one of them.”

“But what about you?”

“I will join you when the last member of our family joins you.”

“Mum-”

“You have to decide, now.” She pulls away from him, and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Where will you go?”

“I can’t. Both?” He watches her with sad eyes. “Will I remember both?”

“When half of you decides to move forward, then you will remember what the half that moved back will remember.”

“Then both.” He says, and Kristen - the universe - smiles at him. She is kind.

“Go back to sleep. When you wake up, all will be well.”

----

Ghostinnit wakes in his dirt house, floating just off of the bed. He sits, confused. What does he remember?

“TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIP-” “Let’s be the bad guys, Tommy.” “I don’t give a FUCK about spirit.” “Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens” “Sorry doesn’t cut it. “The only universal language is violence.” “Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be.” “I wanna see WHITE FLAGS!” “We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.” “He would drop us at the SECOND he realised we’re not in the lead anymore.” “Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” “L’Manburg can be independent, but L’Manburg can’t be FREE.” “The most logical thing to do. For Tommy to be… Exiled. From L’Manburg.”

Oh.

So that’s what he remembers.

Ghostinnit doesn’t know who he can trust. He remembers dying, painful, slow and full of fear, but he doesn’t remember much from between doomsday and death. Perhaps he was happy? Or at least, not scared? He shouldn’t trust anyone, just in case.

Ghostinnit floats out of his house, ‘walking’ towards Eret’s castle. As much as Tommy wants to hate the king for betraying L’Manburg, Tommy remembers seeing Eret fight alongside him during doomsday. Go head to head with Dream and Techno and Philza. The admin and Tommy’s family. Eret fought to help him. So Tommy should be able to at least forgive the king, or steal from him.

He’ll make up his mind on the way there.

Ghostinnit floats, not paying much attention to his surroundings, until he stops. He’s not sure what made him stop, but he looks at the flower garden that grows around Eret’s base. Wild poppies grow on the lawn, and Tommy sits down, picking them. He doesn’t know what possess him to make the flower crown, but it doesn’t feel right until he stops.

A flower crown made of poppies.

A crown of blood.

Tommy holds the flower crown gently, taking great care not to bend it wrong. He floats into the grand castle, wandering until he hears a shout.

“He’s gone, Tubbo!” It’s Jack, his mind happily supplies. He has a few bad memories of the man, he recognises the shout, but he doesn’t have any recent memories of him, so he surely could trust Jack! “He’s gone and the server is thriving!”

“How could you be so heartless!” Tubbo screams, and Ghostinnit floats over to the doorway. Niki and Jack stand to one side, idly watching as Eret holds Tubbo back. Ghostinnit’s friend (ex-friend? They did have a falling out) is struggling against Eret’s grip, screaming and thrashing. Phil and Techno are there, both glaring at Jack and Niki. Tommy doesn’t understand it.

A casket lies on a pedestal, the L’Manburg flag draped over it. A soldier's burial, for Wilbur perhaps. Tommy knows that getting his body from the prison would be a hassall. One that those who hate him wouldn’t go through, even if those people were his father and brother. Sam and a sheep woman stand guard over it, though their eyes are clouded with pain. Quackity and Sapnap weap, Karl holding onto them protectively. Perhaps not Wilbur’s funeral then, he doesn’t remember Wilbur being close to either of the two, though he might have become close in the happy memories.

“What's wrong?” Ghostinnit asks quietly, floating into the room. The crowd looks at him, and Ghostinnit wants to curl up in the air. There are too many people looking at him, they’re angry, they’re going to kill him-

“Tommy?” The sheep woman’s voice breaks, and somewhere in his mind he digs up a name. Puffy. “Oh Void-”

“You’re Puffy, right?” His voice is small. “I don’t have any memories of you, so you must have been a good memory.”

“What?” Eret chokes out. “I thought-”

“I only have bad memories. I guess the universe wanted me to make better memories.” Ghostinnit shrugs, though he can’t quite make the panic subside. He wishes everyone would just look away-

“You look like shit.” Jack says, glaring at him.

“Well, I was beaten to death by my abuser.” Ghostinnit shoots back, though he floats back from the man. Something is off about him. He doesn’t seem quite right. “And I’m sorry for not exactly having enough time to look at myself. I wanted to come see Eret. Who’s funeral is this?”

“It’s yours.” Sam says, bowing his head. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry-”

“You didn’t kill me.” Ghostinnit says. “You did what you had to do.”

“We’ll bring you back.” Tubbo says, his eyes full of promises he can’t keep. “I don’t care what we have to do. What deals we have to make.”

“Don’t.” Ghostinnit shakes his head. “The revive book isn’t real. I don’t want to come back. I’m only here because I’m waiting.”

“For what?” Techno asks, and Quackity glares at Ghostinnit’s older brother, who ignores Tubbo’s wails. “What are you waiting for?”

“Whoever Kristen says she’s waiting for.” Ghostinnit shrugs. “Then I’ll go back to the meadow.”

And with that, Ghostinnit turns to leave. He’ll talk to Eret after the ceremony. After his funeral. After all, he doesn’t want to watch as his father and brother’s faces fall with the memory of his mother. He doesn’t want to listen to Tubbo and Puffy’s wails. He just wants to let Eret know that he was forgiven. He places the flower crown on a table underneath a mirror, somehow having made his way into one of Eret’s bathrooms.

He sees his reflection in the mirror, and stares at it in shock. The black eye that he was given as he was beaten to death is no more, instead replaced with a bouquet of forget-me-nots. In fact, all of his bruises are the small, blue flowers. The blood that fell from the side of his mouth and his nose is gone, replaced by a poppy. He wears a red sweater, not unlike Ghostbur’s yellow one, or Glatt’s blue one, and his skin is grey.

His eyes are blue though, not whited out like he imagined. Pure blue, no glowing white or void like black. A bright, sky blue.

He smiles, and poppy petals fall from his lips.

---

Tommy hops off the train that left the meadow, a bag over his back. He’s wearing his normal clothes, and the injuries he once sustained are gone. He feels solid, but also not solid. Scared, but not. He remembers everything, and somehow nothing.

He doesn’t know which stop to hop off at, so he doesn’t. He watches as others hop off at different stops, ghosts going to worlds. Perhaps to be reborn, perhaps to meet the afterlife. Maybe even to become a member of someone’s chat.

The train stops, and he’s the only one on his carriage. The end of the line.

Tommy gets off, worry in his gut. What if he doesn’t see Wilbur here? What if Wilbur hopped off at another stop. What if Wilbur doesn’t want to see him?

What if he does see Wilbur?

Tommy looks around the station, hugging himself as he tries to find a familiar face. Maybe Schlatt will be there, maybe not. He’d take anyone , at this point.

He’s the only person who hops off at this station.

“Tommy?” It’s Wilbur’s voice that pulls him out of his frantic searching. “You’re not supposed to be here, the void wasn’t preparing for you. Why are you here?”

Tommy turns, and sees his brother. Still in his Pogtopia coat, but cleaner. Warmer. Tears pool in Tommy’s eyes, and he runs to his brother, getting pulled into a hug. He’s with Wilbur again. He’s nearly home .

“Who hurt you, Toms?” Wilbur sounds choked up, upset. “Why are you here?”

“Dream.” Tommy says quietly. “He beat me to death.”

“I’ll kill him.” Wilbur swears, and Tommy laughs wetly.

“Don’t. I promised that I’d see you soon.” Tommy pulls out of Wilbur’s hug, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go home, I’m tired of being an adult. Let’s be a family again.”

“I’m not supposed to see you for another fifty years.” Wilbur accepts the hand Tommy offers him, smiling sorrowfully. “But I’m glad you hopped off the train here.”

“I wouldn’t have hopped off anywhere else. Too much pull to here.”

They both walk out of the station, hand in hand. Tommy sees the outline of Schlatt and Mexican Dream in the distance, and he knows that his family will come through, sooner or later. He’ll see them around, but for now he’ll spend time with his older brother and his friends.

He has an eternity to spend with everyone else, when they arrive.