#Dodge Hi-Way Hi-Fi

[tommydarlings]

fighting lessons | c.l

pairing: dom!charles x sub!reader

warnings: smut, dacryphilia, overstimulation

w/c: 1.2k

summary: your brother was convinced that you need someone to teach you some basic self defense techniques — so he chose his best friend to teach you some…things.

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It was stupid in your opinion but your brother was convinced that you should learn how to defend yourself. You understood the worries that he had since you’re his sister, a young girl in nowadays disgusting men’s world, but it still sucked in your opinion.

“Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you,” he said with a tiny grin, making you tone your eyes before you put your arms up into the typical fighting position.

“Is that the best you can do, little one?” He teased you once again with that nickname as he dodged once again another punch from you, looking down at you with slick smirk.

You huffed, hitting his boxing gloves covered palm again before you gulped and stared up at him with narrowing eyes, basically telling him to shut the fuck up.

Charles laughed at your facial expression, “Say it,” he whispered and nodded along his own words, “c'mon, say it,” he lowered his arms,

“I know you want to, don’t be so shy now,” the monaguesque told you, making you slowly shake your head,

“Let’s just continue charles, c‘mon,” you sighed before you raised your fist and hit him right in the shoulder, forcing his body to stumble a tiny bit backwards. You really tried to bite back your grin but it was no use, he already caught you wickedly grinning up at him.

Charles bit his inner cheek as you covered your mouth to hide the wide grin covering your face now, but he didn’t really look happy as you giggled like a little girl.

“What?” You said as you looked up at him, “I did what you wanted me to do! I hit you!” You laughed with a grin, knowing he didn’t expect it at all.

Your brothers best friend licked his lips, brushing his hand through his rather messy hair, “Try again,” he said in a quite and deep tone, surprising you.

You stopped laughing, “what? Are you sure?”

Charles only nodded before you briefly shrugged and hit him again… or at least you tried to, only that this time he actually — obviously — expected it and quickly caught your fist, turning your entire body swiftly around and pressing his chest forcefully against your back without saying a single word.

“Told you that I won’t go easy on you,” Charles muttered into your ear from behind, lips almost touching your temple as he secured your arms over your chest so you weren’t able to move them, trapping you between his muscular arms and grey compression shirt.

Charles cleared his throat as he felt your ass rubbing against his crotch area, briefly squeezing his eyes shut and furrowing his brows in pleasure before he spoke up, “You do know that you need to do better if you really want to be able to defend yourself in the future, right?” The monaguesque mumbled from behind.

You briefly closed your eyes as well and took a deep breath as you felt his bulge through your pants, “I know,” you admitted in a hush tone, slightly turning your head to the side so that Charles was able to get even better access to your neck.

You heard Charles chuckle for a few seconds before you gasped, suddenly feeling his lips kissing their way from your behind your ear down to your shoulder blade, palms squeezing your arms.

“Good,” Charles replied in a deep and raspy tone, lips still dancing along your hot skin as you dropped the back of your head against his chest, getting lost in the pleasure that he was making you feel.

You gasped, gulping another whine that wanted to escape down before you put your visibly smaller onto his biceps, lightly squeezing it, “Charles, w-we shouldn’t… you know, my brother-”

But your brothers best friend quickly shut you up by putting his hands down your pants, fingertips already teasingly playing with your clit as you stumbled over your words.

“Oh god, c-charles,” you cried out as he circled your clit, lips softly touching the skin behind your ear now, there and then gently biting your earlobe with a deep breaths,

“Yes mon amour?” He replied in a cocky tone, probably smirking behind you as his other arm tightened around you trapped body, making it literally completely unable to move away from him.

You dropped your head forwards, brows furrowed before you heard him groan into the back of your neck, forehead dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly rubbed your ass against his now very visible boner, biting your lip as you noticed how his breathing got more uneven because of it.

“You — oh my god,” you whined in a high pitched tone as he dipped his middle finger into your wet pussy, collecting some of your juice before he went back to rubbing your clit, “you like that?” You quickly gasped before you whined again.

Charles deeply chuckled behind you, groaning and biting his lip before he switched to biting your shoulder, groaning and moaning into your heated skin as you continued rubbing yourself against him, gulping as you felt how big he actually is.

“Fucking hell, y/n baby,” he gulped, making you smirk before you threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to your release, “The t-things I wanna do t-to you right now, shit,” he gasped, “you don’t even wanna know,” he chuckled again, making you cry out.

“I think I-I do actually,” you nodded with a smirk, rubbing clenching pussy against his fingers now as well, feeling your orgasm already building up, “tell me, god charles… please for the l-love of god…tell me,” you whined pathetically.

Charles only raised his head and kissed the sweet spot behind your ear, “You wouldn’t even u-understand a thing, mon amour,” his fingers sped up, making you see literal stars, “you’re to pure for that, aren’t you? Am I right?” He nodded along his words as he said them in a raspy tone, “way to pure and innocent, that’s what you are baby, that’s exactly what you fucking are,” he mumbled.

You felt like you were levitating, like you saw stars, like it was just you and him on this planet right now, nobody else. You bit your lip before you couldn’t hold it back anymore, trembling legs breaking down as you furrowed your brows and came all over his fingers, forcing him to go down with you as your knees hit the floor.

“I got you, don’t worry mon amour,” Charles kissed the top of your head as his fingers till continued rubbing your sensitive clit, making tears shot into your eyes due the overstimulation you were feeling,

“let it all go, baby… don’t hold anything back, want it all c'mon,” he continued as your whines got louder since he still wasn’t stopping.

“C-Charles!” You loudly spoke up, palm slowly reaching forward to stop his moving hand by grabbing his wrist but his hand wouldn’t stop for a second, he just ignored your weak grip on his wrist and continued smiling like in a mean and teasing way behind you,

“I know it feels good, little one, don’t even try to deny it,” he whispered into your ear from behind as you were so close to actually screaming from the overstimulation, your legs shaking like they have never before, “why don’t you be a good little girl for me and put your hand away, yeah?”

You gasped and cried as charles continued talking to you, ordering you to do something but at the same time calming you down whilst you gently removed your palm from his wrist, placing it back onto the floor to gain balance.

Charles chuckled behind you, “that’s my good girl.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #smut #charles #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc x fem!reader #classic f1 #f1 x reader #f1 ferrari #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 2023

[yoyokalicent]

so i died there under you, every night, all night.

pairing: felix catton x reader

summary: two best friends who seem to have come into the world together, leave together too.

warning(s): angst, mentions of fwb (they're so in love), drugging, drinking, death, all around sadness.

｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆｡°｡°✩⋆

felix had told you to follow him to the maze, kissing into the side of your head, bulge pressing into your ass as you danced besides the groups of people who gathered to celebrate oliver.

you tried to dodge the groups of people to follow him, but somewhere along the way someone offered you a blunt, and you stopped following him.

"you're with felix?" the girl asked, posh accent surrounding the blunt before she handed it back to you.

"best friends, grew up together." you say, puffing the blunt, waiting for her to respond with hooded eyes, starting to become heavy from the smoke.

her eyes light up immediately, taking the blunt from your fingers, "so you won't mind if i have a go at him? maybe even put in a good word for me?"

your lips form an 'o' as she continues to speak, "i'm actually gonna go find him." you're up from the lunging chair right away, moving across the lawn with your arms swinging in determination, determination to find felix and make him yours. show her he's yours.

you enter the dark maze and look through every corner to find him, after a while you think about giving up, giving up and just going up to his room and stripping of your clothes, going to sleep.

"felix?" you yelled one last attempt to find him, dragging your feet through the maze slowly trying to find him.

your matching golden halo was sliding over your hair, making its way toward your forehead as it covered your eyes, just as you put it back your body collided with someone else pushing you onto the ground.

"felix?" you screamed, the drinks in your system making you just a little more jumpy, and wanting him a whole lot more.

you look up from where you sit on the ground to see oliver, with wet eyes and a look on his face you can't describe, "where's fi, ollie?"

"over there." he grumbles, helping you up and pointing in his direction. you give him a pat on the shoulder before your pump clad feet take you in the direction of felix. excited for whatever he wanted to so badly give you.

all of your excitement dwindles when you see him, sitting on the grass, back against the statue with a bottle of champagne in his grasp, "you okay fi?"

"fuckin' perfect, love. how's your night?" he asks, looking down at the bottle he had yet to drink from.

you frown, "i was doing great 'till i fell on my ass," you sit beside him running your fingers through his hair, "what ruined your night? we were having s'much fun."

"i was, i really was, so excited to see you." he hands you the open champagne bottle, fizzing with excitement more than ever, "then oliver had to ruin it. you know he's a fuckin' liar?"

you hum at his words, remembering when you were swept away from the warmth of your bed to go meet olivers parents, "i know felix, can't wait for him to leave. so it's just us."

you'd been waiting for him to leave from the moment he arrived, always a couple steps behind you and felix, never giving the two of you your time alone, "drink it off, yeah?"

the smile on his face is one you're happy to see, one that takes the bottle from you, taking a huge swig before bringing it up to your lips, "yeah?" you respond wrapping your lips around the opening, bringing the liquid into your mouth, "why's it so fizzy?"

"cheap, probably. ollie gave it to me, for us." he says making your eyebrows raise in surprise, taking another sip before giving it to him.

"took a hit off a girls blunt, wanted me to put a good word in for her." you watch him drink, bracelets sliding up and down with his movements, "wanted you, bad."

his eyes roll at your words, "not happening. got you spending all my money, don't need her."

your cheeks heat up at his words, scooting so close to him you're basically on top of him, "doesn't taste good, fi." you whine, still taking a drink and giving it to him for the final time.

"i'll finish it off.'" he responds, bringing it back to his mouth for a couple seconds, giving up after about ten, "never mind. shitty champagne."

you bring your eyes up to him, open mouth resting on his shoulder, head spinning from the joint and the champagne, "wanna go find something better?" he asks, using his hands to get himself up, eyes still looking down at you.

felix shoots his hand out to let you take them, helping get you up, he notices the way you stumble, you were never one to stumble, "heels too high, love?"

your eyes furrow and look down at your legs, confused why they feel as if they aren't there, "don't feel good." letting go of his sweaty hands you fall back down, laying your head on the grass. the cool dew of the night seeming to cool you off.

your body is buzzing, trying to reach your hand back out for him but unable to, you can't move anything. you feel so tired, so absolutely tired.

he gets down on his knees and looks down at you, "gonna go get water." you watch him and nod, eyes following his movements as he walks about five feet away from you, he stumbles too, feet tripping over each other before he sits down too.

felix looks back at you and tries to stand back up, he can't, he's struggling, "fi!" you cry, not knowing what was happening.

"i'm coming, love." he brings his fore arms out in front of him, knees moving in rhythm to get him where he belongs, with you. he's crawling to you. crawling toward your numb body, head racing as he stops to take a break. heavy breaths laboring as his chest heaves.

he crawls for a couple inches, and then stops.

crawls.

stops.

this goes on for what feels like ever, before he reaches you. resting his head near yours, you had moved to lay on your stomach, "head hurts, fi." you try to scoot near him, hand laying on his back, "so tired."

your eyes flutter, so do felix's, bringing his lips up to your forehead, "let's sleep." he mutters, body going limp next to you, "the stars, they're so pretty."

you don't respond, just stare at him before closing your eyes.

after a moment his eyes close too, entering what you both thought would be a deep sleep. closing your eyes with the innocent idea you'd wake up in each others arms with a nasty hang over, the innocent idea you'd have the rest of your lives together.

the next morning they found you two unresponsive, finding you with scrams and cries. whispers from those who had spent the night, packing their belongings and leaving immediately.

venetia would be seen sitting by your bodies, mourning for her best friend and her brother, before her mother would come sit next to her in a black veil, signaling her mourning, with a comforting hand, "it's what he would want, to leave the earth with her."

it's what he would want, to leave the earth with her.

-

where the world was empty - save you and i

#felix catton #felix catton fanfiction #felix catton x reader #felix catton angst #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi fanfiction #jacob elordi x reader

[writingoddess1125]

What do you do Dad?

Simon Riley + OOC Children

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Your children ask about their fathers job

Fluffy

It was days like this Simon lived for- Were he could just relax and let his guard down just a little.. enjoy time with his family and get a taste of domestic bliss- Seated on the sofa with his 5 year old triplets piled on him like he was a bed and they were all watching Bluey, You'd had him watch the litter while you picked up the dog Riley from the groomers.

Hazel was nestled on his left just under his arm and curled into his side- Rose sitting on his lap with her head on his chest and Johnny sitting in his right arm with his head tucked onto Simon's neck.

It was defiently a bit cramped for Simon's taste but he wasn't one to complain- Especially since it ment time with his kids watching cartoons all day and wiping boogers.

"Daddy?" Hazel voice cut through the man's thoughts, Simon humming in response as he waited for his daughters question.

"What do you do?" She asked, Simon confused by the question as he looked at Hazel who was staring up at him with big eyes.

"What do you mean Dove?"

"At your job when you go away? What do you do?" Hazel ask, Simon feeling a Sinking feeling in his chest at her question as he stared at the matching eyes before him. He had been dreading this day, he truly had and what made it worse was you not being there to help him- His mind flashing the horrors he had done, the smell of gunpowder seemingly filling his nose from nowhere and he felt like his mask was brushing against his face. The feeling of Ghost wrapping his fingers around his heart again and getting to close to comfort to his children- bringing fear into mouth.

Why did you have to go to pick up the Dog from the groomers today..

"I do a lot of things Bug.." He started, watching how she scrunched her face in mild irritation clearly able to tell he was dodging the real answer. The dodging made Rose look up and seem curious as well, Johnny shifting as well at feeling his father become uncomfortable. They were all too smart to let it go as well, He blamed you for that..-

Sitting up some more he gently pulled them from his sides and set them all on his lap facing him in order to listen equally.

"I work for the military, I'm a soldier- So my job is to help other people get to safety from bad guys" He worded the best he could, Hazel staring at her father as he said this and chewing over his words.

"How?" Johnny signed, For the first time that day wanting to 'speak' it seemed. Simon almost wishing that his Lad didn't ask.

"By fighting"

"It is, But remember how I've always said you should never hit first but if they hit you, it's okay? It's like that- They hit first and so they send me to hit back" He explained as carefully as possible.

Rose face twisted up at this, Surprised by his words. His little princess, a gentle soul who was sad by the idea of her father fighting.

"But fighting is bad- is that why you have booboos?" She said softly, Simon wincing at her words. He figured he'd hidden some of the scarier scars better so they didn't see them, Seemed not.

Simon waited for- something? His anxiety up and prepared for something negative...

But instead Hazel moved first, going right back to her spot happily.

"So You're like the hero people on TV right?" She seemed to reason, Simon nodding calmly as she settled back in. Seemingly satisfied with the answer and line of thinking- Johnny next moving back to his spot giving a thumbs up also in agreement. Rose being the last, Looking to her siblings and seeing them seemingly fine with what they had learned- So she returned as well and the trio went back to watching Cartoons.

Simon sat there, a bit shocked in truth. He'd expected more? But he was happy there wasnt... he knew they were way to young to truly understand what he did, but he preferred it that way.

A wash of peace falling over him once more and he settle back in for the cartoons. Ghost once again falling away and hidden from his precious family-

"I love you lot so much..."

#call of duty imagine #call of duty thoughts #call of duty #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #könig x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in March 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #60 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

☁️ you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou

(E, 60k, acquaintances to lovers) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

☁️ Always a Bridesmaid by @kingsofeverything

(E, 29k, age difference) The night before his best friend’s wedding, Harry falls into bed with a silver haired stranger who makes him wonder what his own forever might look like.

☁️ Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie

(E, 19k, omegaverse) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

☁️ The Room Thief by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, omegaverse) When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

☁️ Simmer Down and Pucker Up by @silverstuff50

(E, 9k, exes) When Louis' sister invites his ex to her wedding Louis is not a happy bunny. But his friends are wankers and their meddling causes the sort of drama that Louis would usually beat the crap out of them for. Usually...

☁️ and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess

(M, 9k, established relationship) Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn't found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.

☁️ you can be my lover, i can be your love by @wildhalos

(M, 9k, canon m/f) the one where Louis may have accidentally fondled his best friend, and it's not weird unless they make it weird. Harry's almost positive. She swears.

☁️ What we parted ways with by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics

(M, 6k, exes) Alpha Harry is surprised to see omega Louis at his matchmaker’s cocktail party for millionaires. Years ago when they were together, Louis loathed schmoozefests with rich people.

☁️ That’s the way love goes by bella28

(T, 4k, soulmate goose!) In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can't figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.

☁️ Stand Not in Front or Behind by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(NR, 4k, omegaverse) Harry Styles always knew his purpose in life was to be a pawn in an arranged marriage to assure allegiances. He never actually put much thought into his future partner.

☁️ Pussy Juice by @homosociallyyours

(M, 4k, girl direction) While she manages to dodge the bar's "special" drink, the Pussy Juice shot, she can't avoid the feelings that come up when her former teacher (and teen crush), Louis joins her and her friends for the night.

☁️ pretty please? by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 3k, girl direction) Harry gets impatient for her Valentine’s Day present.

☁️ Lipstick Like Dynamite by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 3k, established relationship)  the one where Louis is a professional football player who loves seeing his boyfriend in lipstick, a fact that Harry likes to use to his advantage

☁️ Green Coffee and Morning People by @insightfulinsomniac

(T, 3k, uni) Louis has a crush on the prettiest boy he’s ever seen — the curly-haired guy who sits next to him in his Community Psych class and brings strangely-colored drinks to class with him each day.

☁️ You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows

(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him

☁️ When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect? by INnenaHeart / @thechavier

(M, 1k, sexuality crisis) Louis realizes he's into men because of a long hair, chelsea boots wearing, Harry

☁️ The Devil's Hour by silverkiiwii / @tomlinsins

(NR, 1k, established relationship) Harry and Louis are going on their first roadtrip and they have very different interpretations of what leaving in the morning means.

- Rare Pairs -

☁️ Unplanned Circumstances by @haztobegood

(E, 8k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn has worked his whole life to be one of the top spies in the Agency. When he returns from his latest mission, the unexpected reappearance of a one-night-stand could change everything. Part 1 of Unplanned Circumstances

☁️ Baby, I'm Right Here by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 1k, Zayn & Louis) The one where Zayn and Louis are best friends and, after much prompting from their family members, try and give dating a go.

☁️ if it feels like love (then it must be love) by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 1k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) niall and shawn are in love. if they could both realize this, that would be lovely.

#ficrec #28th appreciation #1dficvillage #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #trackinghappily #ficsfor4am #hltracks

[thegettingbyp2]

Billy x fem reader where he ends up saying something ab her behind her back and she hears and gets so sad and starts acting weird and it takes a while for him to notice and when he does he feels real bad and they talk it out but it was all a misunderstanding cause she only heard one part and mot full context? Angst to fluff

I hope this makes sense!

I Could Never

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You were sobbing in the corner of your bedroom when Billy found you and his heart broke instantly. He rushed straight to your side, sinking to his knees and collecting you in his arms, holding you close, not failing to notice the way you tensed up slightly at his touch. Over the past few days, Billy had noticed that you’d been withdrawing from him a bit and that absolutely terrified him. You were the best thing in his life and the idea that you didn’t want him anymore was enough to break him.

‘What’s happened, love?’ he asked, his lips pressed tightly to the top of your head as he tightened his arms around you slightly in an attempt to calm your trembling body.

‘Why do you care?’ you replied, almost bitterly, making Billy pull back slightly, his brows pinched together in confusion.

‘Of course I care,’ he protested, tilting your head up to look at him and brushing your tears away with his thumb before pressing his forehead against yours. ‘Tell me.’

‘What’s the point? You’re already breaking up with me, so - ’

‘When have I ever said that I wanted to break up with you?’ Billy cut you off, his voice a mix of anger and hurt.

‘I heard you when you were talking to Jessie, the other day!’ you exclaimed, wiggling your way out of his hold and started to pace the room. ‘I went to see you during your Poker game the other night and I overheard Jessie asking you to go and join his gang and you said that I’d never go along with that. Jessie then told you to break up with me and you laughed and said that that would be a lot easier!’

You watched Billys face fall at your words. He swallowed heavy and looked back at you, his face wracked with guilt. ‘I didn’t know you’d came.’

‘I didn’t stay. Funnily enough, hearing your boyfriend say that it would be easier to break up doesn’t really make someone want to hang around,’ you replied.

‘So, you left as soon as you heard me say that?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So, you didn’t hear what I said after that?’

‘I didn’t want to hear anything else.’

Billy stood from his spot on the floor and made his way over to you, taking your face in both of his hands and making you look at him. ‘Well, you need to hear it. I was joking when I said that to Jessie. (Y/N), you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you’re the only person that keeps me sane with having to dodge all of those wanted posters everywhere I go. I told Jessie that, although it’d be easier to just go with them, it wouldn’t be the life I wanted because I wouldn’t have you there with me. I could never break up with you, I’d rather die. I told him that I want a life with you where we can get married and have a family of our own and no offer was going to change that.’

While he was speaking, you could feel your eyes filling with tears at his words. Your relationship with Billy was the best relationship that you’d ever been in and the idea that he’d want to end things with you was the worst news you think you could have heard. ‘You really mean that?’

‘Of course I mean it,’ he said instantly. ‘I’m so sorry you thought I wanted to break up, I shouldn’t have been joked around about it and I’ll - ’ You cut him off by pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, his lips responding immediately as his tongue flicked across your bottom lip. ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’ he asked with a cute grin.

‘Just don’t do it again.’

#billy the kid #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth

[luxeavenger]

It Was Wonderful

Kinktober prompt: Aftercare

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Backstage pAss!Bucky x Backstage Pass!Steve x reader

Warnings: Fluff, subdrop, comfort no hurt

Words: 1139

A/N: This is the end of my mini-kinktober. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, extra thanks for reblogging and/or commenting, and gentle forehead kisses for everyone because I love you

Thanks for reblogging.

Kinktober Masterlist | Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

part 2

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, and you find yourself staring up into Steve’s sky blue eyes.

He smiles at you radiantly, “Welcome back, princess.”

“Hi, Stevie.”

Your head is pillowed on his thighs, and when you roll over towards him you feel tears slip down your face. You bat at the tears with the back of your hand and laugh. Only the laugh comes out as a sob.

Steve gathers you into his arms. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here, princess. I’ve got you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“‘M not hurt, Stevie. I feel good. I’m not sure why I’m crying.”

“It happens, sweet girl,” Bucky reassures you, pushing your sweat-damp hair away from your face before dabbing at the corners of your eyes with a tissue. “Just give your body a chance to stow those extra happy chemicals, and it’ll taper off.”

You know this already. It happens to Bucky sometimes. But helping him with it and feeling it personally are two very different things.

Steve kisses your forehead. “Is it okay if I keep holding you, sweetheart?’

You wrap your arms around him. “Don’t you dare put me down,” you mumble against his neck.

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.”

“Here. Eat some choccy,” Bucky says, crouching next to you holding a square of chocolate in front of you. “Choccy always makes me feel better after.” You try to take the chocolate from him, but he dodges your hand, and shakes his head. He holds it there until you pop your mouth open, then he slips it onto your tongue. “Good girl,” he chuckles when you hum at how delicious the sweet treat is.

“See? Look at you. Already done crying,” Steve says. He licks his thumb and swipes over the tear tracks before they can dry on your skin.

Bucky makes sure you’re done eating the little square of chocolate, then he offers you some water, making you sip it slowly. “I’ll get a towel. And a couple more blankets, and snacks,” he hums, handing the water to Steve before exiting the bunk.

Steve resituates you so he can give you more water, and another piece of chocolate.

Steve asks earnestly, “Was that too much, princess? We don’t have to do it again if you don't like it.”

“No, it was wonderful,” you rush to reassure him, while you make him eat a piece of chocolate too. “Not breathing this way,” you cover your mouth, “feels totally different from this way,” you press the webbing between your thumb and index finger against your throat. “I like it,” you nod decisively.

“Do you like it enough to do it again some other time?”

“Yes. Absolutely. But next time, can you have your phone with you?”

“What for?”

“I want you to be able to take pictures if you want to. I know you like to use them for your sketches.”

“I love you so much, sweet girl. I promise I’ll have my phone on hand next time.”

“Good,” you nod. You pop your mouth open and wait patiently until Steve slides a piece of chocolate onto your tongue. You take the bar from him, break off a square, and reciprocate by feeding him one too.

You lean your head against his chest. “You’re so warm,” a shiver shakes through you.

“Are you chilly?”

“A little.”

“You could lie down and cover up with a blanket?”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head. “It’s… ahm,” you flap your hand at the mattress, “wet.”

“Fair point. How about this instead,” he makes you sit up so he can pull one of his hoodies over your head.

You poke your head inside of the hoodie and take a big whiff of Steve’s scent. “Nice,” you say, “but not good enough.”

“What do you want, princess?”

“Lay down. On your tummy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Stay there,” you order. You climb onto his back and lie down. Up on his elbows, the natural curve of his back, butt, and legs conforms comfortably to your body.

Plus, it’s like being curled up on an extremely sexy electric blanket.

You wiggle, and make a happy noise. Steve laughs. “I’m happy to be of service, my queen.”

Bucky chuckles, “Is the bed not good enough?”

“She didn’t want to lay in the wet spot. And, well, since most of it’s wet,” he lifts an eyebrow and gestures to where you’re curled up on his back.

“You’re warm too,” you mumble against Steve’s shoulder blade.

“Aww. Thank you,” he says, genuinely happy to be able to offer you comfort of any kind.

“You don’t have to get off Stevie, but I need to clean you up princess,” Bucky says.

You roll over halfway, and when Bucky sits next to you, you squeeze his bearded cheeks until his mouth opens. You set a piece of chocolate on his tongue. He hums his gratitude, and starts wiping your face with the warm, wet hand towel he brought with him. Once he’s done cleaning the sweat, tears, and come off your body, he cleans Steve up the best he can without running you off.

After he gobbles up another piece of chocolate you shake in his direction, Bucky makes you roll over onto your stomach, so Steve drops his head down onto his forearm, and you roll over, Hooking your chin over his shoulder, and letting your arms flop out on either side of his chest. You ask lazily, “‘Zis good?”

“It’s perfect, baby girl,” Bucky soothes. He starts massaging your thigh muscles. Once they loosen up, he moves up to your glutes, then your back, neck, and finally your shoulders.

Bucky lifts Steve’s head up and places it in his lap. His warm fingers skritch over Steve’s scalp, until he’s practically purring.

“You did so well for us, princess, Bucky praises you affectionately. “You’re such a good girl. Thank you for trusting us to take care of you and make you feel good.”

You sigh softly, “I love you both so much.”

Steve reaches up to card his fingers through your hair and they both murmur their I love you’s. “Come lay down, Buck.” You pat the mattress next to Steve until Bucky parks himself exactly where you want him.

“That’s more like it,” you chirp. You roll off Steve’s backs and plop down in the trench between their bodies. They both roll to face you, and scoot closer until you’re pressed tightly between them.

You giggle, “Well, I don’t need this anymore.” You sit up enough to slip Steve’s hoodie off, because a few seconds between them and it’s already too hot to be wearing it. You don’t lie back down fast enough for them, so they tackle you down to the mattress and tickle you until all three of you are laughing so hard your sides hurt.

#bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #stucky smut #bucky barnes x steve rogers x you #stucky x you #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x steve rogers x female!reader #stucky x female!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #steve rogers x female!reader #rockstar!bucky barnes #backstage pass!bucky #backstage pass!steve #rockstar!steve rogers #backstage pass series #rockstar au #kinktober prompt #aftercare

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!!(Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter 18 baby!)

The hatchling didn’t stay in his nest very long. Damian had thought the little one would be exhausted after his first encounter with Grayson. He himself had been exhausted by the encounter. It had taken ages to convince the other to leave and stop stalking near the plateaus.

The constant attempts at surveillance from his siblings were irritating before he’d been assigned to watch the hatchling. They were infuriating now. He isn't an infant anymore, and he hasn't been one for a thousand years. It's annoying that his siblings thought him so incompetent that he couldn’t complete this one simple task.

They acted like they weren't guilty of losing hatchlings in their territories. Scolding him like a hatchling slipping past someone was this unheard-of act of negligence. He knew for a fact each and every one of them had lost track of a guppy at least once. At least the little one he’s guarding was still alive. Damian had managed to keep it that way. Unlike other's he could think of.

This little one was healthy, swimming around faster than a pissed-off crashfish. He clicked his teeth at the child, a call of “come here” that the child either couldn’t understand or was blatantly ignoring. The little one was desperate to explore, but as he kicked his little legs closer and closer in the direction of the crash site, Damian couldn’t help but take action.

Bolting from his spot in the sand, he crooned. A worried scolding noise. A gentle nudge from clawed hands was met with a frustrated nip from the hatchling. With puffed-up cheeks, the hatchling darted around him, dodging his attempts at blocking him with a stubborn determination.

Why the little one was so determined to make his way to the crash site was beyond his understanding. Was it a built-in instinct to head towards their “Mother”? The structure that harbored them was no doubt artificial so it was safe to assume he wasn’t straying to gain comfort from a dead parent. Maybe he thought other members of his clutch would be nearby. These little ones tended to flock towards places other hatchlings had been. Presumably, Duke had been the one to find the hatchling near the egg in the kelp forests, even if the elder didn’t realize it.

Damian followed the hatchling deeper into the sand-clouded waters anxiety flaring the longer the little one ignored his warning. The metal here was still hot enough to mutilate a hatchling who drew close enough to touch it. Wreckage everywhere the eye could see, Damian didn’t trust any of it. How could one trust something that tended to spontaneously combust around a child? You couldn’t. This biome was too dangerous for a hatchling and he hadn’t even taken the reapers into account yet!

“Owwwwww”

Damian stared at the little one. There wasn’t a scratch on him yet pain and nausea radiated of him. The child blinked rapidly, pushing through the water despite Damian's attempts to pull him back.

“Get back here!” Damian called, the hatchling didn’t even acknowledge him. He just kept swimming forward. Closer to the reaper and closer to a mother that likely was never alive in the first place. The hatchling acknowledged his own pain, his swimming staggered the hatchling struggling to keep upright but continued his plight.

Damian huffed, snapping his teeth, flaring his gills, and striking the space beside the little one. An intimidation tactic, if the child wouldn’t respond to a guardian, he’d respond to an agitated predator. Using his size to his advantage, Damian towered over him, the glowing blue slab in the hatchling’s hands screamed.

Those little slabs had to have a tracker of some kind inside of them. The children would look at those glowing screens and wander towards somewhere dangerous. Specifically, a dangerous area another hatchling had once been in. Damian couldn’t bring himself to feel bad when the screen went blank.

“No!”

Distress was clear in the little one’s cry, blue eyes fixated on the slab.

“Sad” Damian reached for the child, freezing in his spot when a bone-chilling noise could just barely be heard. A noise he could recognize in a heartbeat, but it didn’t matter how quickly he recognized the sound. He had heard it, and that meant it could see them.

A reaper shouldn’t be here! Jason was supposed to be corralling them today. They’d wandered too close, and a reaper had snuck away from Jason’s care to take advantage. The hatchling kept staring at the dead tablet, unaware of the impending danger.

Damian puffed up, taking in a breath and letting out the loudest shriek his body could manage, wrapping his body around the guppy. His clawed hands prevented escape or in this case, prevented sharp mandibles from impaling the tiny skull of an infant. The little one was silent as the reaper charged, Damian’s tail raised to smack the mindless attacker away.

Its body was all muscle, eyes hungry and irrational. The strikes from his tail made an audible crack but did nothing to deter the beast. His defenses only served to anger it further. Reapers only cared about food, it would’ve been normal behavior had it not been for the bloodthirsty way they attempted to eat anything that moved regardless of size or age. Damian was far too large for the reaper to eat on its own on the unlikely chance the creature managed to finish him off, but it didn’t seem to care.

Logically he knew the animal was driven by instinct, but his bitterness prevailed. Reapers were not a part of this ecosystem that he favored, but he could understand the crucial role they played in local population control. Even if said population control attacked everything, including each other.

Blood spilled into the sea, but so long as it wasn’t red, Damian didn’t falter. Red copper-smelling blood meant death; a sign of ensured failure that’d stick with him for the rest of his natural life. Damian glanced down at the hatchling. The little one pointed a tool through the small gaps in his claws.

The tool was easy to recognize. The little one pointed it at everything, sometimes he would eat whichever flora or fauna he used it on. Damian wouldn’t be surprised if he was taking the opportunity to check if a reaper was edible. Father told him growing babies were always hungry and this hatchling had done nothing to disprove this theory.

Damian thrashed his tail, striking the beast into the ground. They didn’t know where that fish spent its time. Reapers didn’t care if what they ate was diseased. The ultimate carrier of plague. A baby's immune system was so incredibly fragile it had only taken three hours for the child in Dick’s territory to fall prey to illness. They needed to get out of here, now.

“Swim!” The hatchling beat his tiny fist against his skin. It was only the direction he was drifting towards that reassured him the little one wanted away from the reaper. He snapped, baring his teeth at the reaper, striking it down once more before shooting off with the hatchling gripped gently in his claws.

“Speed!!” The hatchling cheered, kicking his legs like he hadn’t almost been swallowed whole by a reaper.

“We wins, next time” The little one stared at him with those expressive blue eyes. There wouldn’t be a next time so long as he could help it. It wouldn’t be long before he was lectured for allowing the child anywhere near the site in the first place.

His tail ached, as they glided towards the safety of the shallows. A tsunami of nausea struck him as lingering adrenaline slowly faded from his system. He hadn’t failed, the guppy was fine. Not a scratch on him. This was fine. There would be no need for Father to assign someone else to watch the hatchling.

He was the most competent out of all of them! A whole three days this hatchling had been alive on this planet. His siblings couldn’t even keep one alive for three hours. This little one was stubborn and tiny, everywhere was a good hiding place for him and if he wanted to go somewhere he’d go with or without a guardian. Anyone with a brain could imagine the outcome of a hatchling wandering the crash sight by themself. They’d seen what happened, and it wasn’t pretty. Damian had done everything right, and dealt with the difficult situation handed to him without any casualties.

All it would take was a few seconds of them watching him before the guppy escaped from their watch. A few seconds and they’d be swimming around panicked like a shoal of rabbit rays. Damian doubted the hatchling being passed to someone else would stop his need for exploration. With the ability to maneuver on land, it wasn’t hard to imagine the child running off to explore one of the islands completely out of their reach. Damian didn’t even want to think about the possible tragedies that could happen if he’d wandered completely out of reach. The little “adventure” they’d gone on today induced a lifetime of anxiety in just a few minutes, but he doubted this would be the last time something like this would happen.

“Free me!” The child demanded, squirming in his gentle grip as they entered the coral-filled biome. The little one pried the claws off his back, diving into the sand the moment he regained his freedom.

Thwack!

“OW!”

A peeper charged straight for the child, impacting against chubby cheeks with a loud smack! With the bravo of a biter, it slapped the child directly in the face with its body. He couldn’t help but snort, quickly batting the small blue fish away before the hatchling could take his revenge. A thin trail of glittering gold followed the retreating prey fish, leaving Damian alone to do damage control.

“Gross!” The hatchling scrunched his nose, rubbing his hands against his face. Not a mark was left on him, only the lingering sparkle of yellow clinging to his skin. An encounter with a peeper wouldn’t kill them. If anything, one might argue it's healthy for him.

“Bleeding!” The child frowned, staring guilty at Damian’s tail. Yellow oozed from long thin scratches running down the thinner parts of his tail. Minor injuries that’d do him no harm in the long term. It was the better of the many morbid outcomes that’d been possible.

“Am sorry,”

Damian chuffed, holding the child in his palm, raising him slowly to the surface. Chubby hands smacked against his forehead the moment he lowered the child into the water a brief warning before he shot off into the kelp forest.

There wasn’t a second where he took his eyes off the guppy. Stalking with his body pressed up against the ground. The biome had plenty of hiding places for the hatchling but Damian was limited. His second form was far better suited for stealth but ran a higher risk of fatal injuries from larger fauna and attracted the attention of precursor-built predators.

A Warper was the last thing anyone wanted to introduce to a child. They attacked at random, culling off populations of fish and flora. While they preferred killing those with glowing cysts on their body, it didn’t stop them from attacking perfectly healthy individuals. It wouldn’t stop them from attacking the hatchling.

Tiny flippers cut through the water. An abundance of creepvine keeps the biome a murky green. He curled around stone arches watching the hatchlings chase fish, catching them between sharp canines.

“Distraction!” The child shouted, followed by the wet thwap of a dead fish impacting against a stalker's jaw. The animal was dazed by the attack but not injured as they eagerly scarfed down the “Weapon” that struck them. Other stalkers were smarter. Slowly approaching the child with open jaws, accepting a snack without having to face the violent throwing hand of an infant.

He himself was guilty of feeding stalkers. They never became docile enough to be a pet, but were still one of his favorite animals. Feeding them was much easier for him than it was for a hatchling this tiny. The child’s method was rather violent but it was necessary to ensure he wouldn’t be eaten alongside the offered fish.

“What the fuck were you doing in the crash site earlier?” Jason questioned cutting through his observations. Concern entwined with the fury lacing his words.

“You need to be more specific Todd, everyone’s been frequenting the crash site recently,” Damian replied, an obvious dismissal of the other’s concerns.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Jason seethed “You’re on babysitting duty. Why the fuck would you try to fist fight a reaper when?”

“Would you have preferred I allowed the creature to eat the hatchling?” Damian sneered. “He’s determined to wander, our excursion to the crash site wasn’t planned,” He started.

“You were supposed to keep him in the shallows,”

“If I’d managed to stop him he’d have escaped and gone on his own,” Damian reminded, his voice tense. Many hatchlings had escaped or died on their careful watch, especially when they were kept confined to a single biome.

Damian didn’t want to keep the hatchling cooped up somewhere so cramped. Not when their species was still unknown to them. What if wandering allowed them to fulfill needs crucial to their survival? Precursors were the ones who kept children as prisoners. They were the ones who’d lock a child up and leave them until they died in agony, not him! Not his family, they wouldn’t do that. “Is he okay?” Jason asked.

“He’s catapulting dead fish at stalkers so I think it’s safe to assume he’s healthy,” Damian replied.

“What about you, demon spawn?” Jason questioned

“A reaper couldn’t even dream of hurting me,” Damian huffed.

“Not what I meant,” Jason sighed, the other sounded exhausted. “Something in the crash site is making everything really fucking sick. Bruce thinks it’s the mother spilling off some nasty decomp,”

“…” Damian felt fine, a little nauseous, but he was fine. There was no need for bed rest or a break. The idea of an artificial structure spilling toxic decomp was new but not impossible. Precursors did have a morbid fascination with playing god. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume this is a failure of this overconfident thought process.

In the thousand years Warpers’ had been on this planet, none of them had ever died naturally. None of them had shown even the smallest sign of degrading with age. A Warper rotting, was an unthinkable concept you’d expect to happen when the sun dies out. But these hatchlings weren’t Warpers. Warpers were put together in an intricate process that had likely been perfected over a long time. These crashes screamed of a rush job. Tim had theorized the precursors had set both “mothers” on a timer before they’d gone extinct. Since there was nobody to monitor development, they were shot down far too early.

They didn’t know whose DNA was stolen to make any of the hatchlings. Knowing the precursors, most of these hatchlings had DNA that could stem from other unfortunate planets.

Damian glanced back to the hatchling. Incredibly tiny, with dull fingers and a reliance on the technology he created. They were dealing with a premature baby. A premature baby whose egg had malfunctioned upon impact. Smaller than any of the hatchlings they’ve seen before yet twice as ferocious to make up for that.

A string of strange chirps sounded from the little one’s tablet glowing once again. The guppy spun around looking around the kelp forest before his eyes landed on Damian.

“I sees you!” The child shouted before returning to cut pieces of kelp. Damian wasn’t sure if the boy’s short attention span was a blessing or a curse.

“Will I need to be quarantined?” Damian stalked the child as he swam back to the shallows. His tail dragged awkwardly against the sand. Small piles of rock were knocked to the seabed, a cloud of dust upturned with his attempts of swift stealthy movements.

“Probably, B has me contained in the fucking dunes,” Jason complained like he didn’t spend his time there daily.

“Sad,” The hatchling projected, Damian looked around, searching for anything that could have caused the child distress. Maybe he was tired? Damian wasn’t a guppy anymore, he didn’t think the same way a child would, but it was only logical for him to be tired after the day they’d had.

“Want my siblings,” the guppy cried, shaking his head with a scrunched nose. Damian frowned, reaching out for the child with a mournful croon. The child had been looking for his clutch mates back then and likely had been searching for them when he’d escaped Damian’s watch before.

“Loud, ouch, hurt” He froze watching as the little one cradled his head in his hands. A softer lower croon was sufficient for a hatchling with a developing sense of hearing. The child stared at him with utter confusion, like he couldn’t comprehend Damian could control his volume. Everything the hatchling said was either a shout or barely audible. Compensation for not having access to the bond yet.

“Mad!” The hatchling huffed, almost giving him a heart attack as he began coughing. A hatchling couldn’t die from being too mad right? No, none of his family would have made it past infancy if that were the case.

“Who will watch the hatchling while I’m in quarantine?” Damian questioned.

“Tim or Dick, they’re the only ones who haven’t gone to the crash site recently,”

Damian rested his head on his chin with a sigh. Tim being one of the only ones not to enter the crash site was a surprise. Tim was the first person you’d think would be flocking to the biome to investigate. Tim loved knowing about everything precursor-related and was especially obsessed with the tools the hatchling used. The insomniac thought they’d be able to mimic the hatchling’s abilities if they studied them hard enough. Tim had fought tooth and claw to loot the few buildings the hatchlings managed to make but Father rejected his requests no matter how he begged. Said it was disrespectful to the dead, and so the buildings were left to rust.

Tim not swarming to scavenge through the wreckage before anyone could stop him was strange. An outlier in an otherwise predictable pattern of behavior. It was an obvious plot to gain access to the only hatchling who lived long enough to build. It’s infuriating but at least the hatchling would be safe under his keen but obsessive eyes.

Dick would be a good babysitter in theory but was overly excitable. Shallow water made his emp field oppressive, and dangerous, something the hatchling had been rightfully terrified of. Dick showing up would surely stress the child out more than would be necessary. The moment he made a grab for the child was the moment he fled and they lost him forever.

“No touch!” The little one puffed up his chest darting back to his nest with ferocity kicking his legs like he wanted to attack the water itself. Damian could only assume the hatchling was cranky because they were up all day. Father said guppies needed lots of sleep but this one didn’t seem to get the memo.

“How long will I be quarantined?” Damian asked staring deeply at the metal structure.

“Until you’re better or until we figure out if what we caught is contagious,” Jason replied bluntly. Damian glared at the sand like each grain had offended him personally. What if the hatchling forgot about him? Object permanence in hatchlings is severely lacking, this one wasn’t any different. It was an unfortunate factor of harboring a brain just beginning to develop and take in information.

“Where am I quarantining?” Damian questioned, raising an eyebrow when he heard the other groan exasperatedly.

“In the dunes with me and everyone else,”

“You’re joking,” Damian accused. The dunes were plenty big enough to hold all of them but it’d be extremely unpleasant.

“Kill me,” Jason deadpanned. Damian nodded, a mercy killing was the ethical solution to this problem.

“I was screwing around earlier so now Duke and Steph think they’re dying of a new precursor plague and Cass has been playing dead in a ditch for about an hour,” Jason complained, a painful-sounding wheeze tainting his words.

“I see…” This wasn’t an ideal situation. He assumed the hatchling would be quarantined inside its nest. It was too dangerous to move him but deadlier to infect him with whatever they’d caught if they didn’t have it already.

Damian eyed the hatch of the child’s nest. The only entrance to the little building. Before he even knew what he was doing he’d curled himself around the hatchling’s base taking incredible care not to break anything. Like a boulder blocking a cave entrance Damian rested his head in front of the hatch.

Blocking the hatchling’s escape into anywhere dangerous while also preventing any physical contact with him. Now all he had to do was wait until his replacement came. Damian sneered, the thought of leaving the hatchling behind for someone else to bond with still irked him more than the pounding headache.

Maybe now the child might finally decide to sleep?

(No more tags because we're on the 18th chapter and there is both a master post and an ao3 link,)

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #subnautica au

[dairy-farmer]

I just had a thought! :3c Multiverse+A/B/O/ shenanigans! And it goes on longer then I expected it too!

Consider!

Tim. Clever, ruthless, barely holding in there. Standing in the ruins of what once was Gotham, air tank running, filters On. The air of planet earth has finally passed the point of no return. The last human hold outs have finally fallen.

He was hoping it wouldn't come to this.

The Great Pyrrhic Victory.

Batman's Doomsday Vault. Buried deep under the rumble of Wayne Manor. With every last Fuck You, Batman ever found. All the "taking you with me" plans, laid out side by side. And Tim?

He needs the one at the very back.

Because this... THING. Won't stop. Not ever. And the Multiverse can't afford that. So Tim fights forward. Runs out of weapons. Bashes in those last few skulls with and empty air tank. And then he digs.

And digs.

And digs.

He runs out of air tanks, day seventeen. But the rubble filters the poisoned air enough. It has to be enough. Three hours later he hits Vault. Uses the last of his wrist computer's battery to power the entry pad and door. He's in. At least the air is clean here, for now.

And there? In the back? Sits the plain black lock-box.

A sci-fi looking hand grenade with extra bits. The bomb that can Destroy Everything. Not just the world. But the entire universe. Tim's whole reality and everyone in it. He would never consider it, if there was anyone left. Any way to fix this. But there's not.

It's just him, a monster, and the bomb that can end all of this.

He doesn't bother to say good bye. Why give that THING a chance to stop him? He pulls the pin.

And let's go.

Aaaaand it works EXACTLY as it's creator designed it too. VERY big boom. Everything dead. Etc etc. Reality? Hard Deleted. No take backs. But! Creator dude was a coward and a scoundrel. Like FUCK was HE going to stick around and Die with you PEASANTS. Absolutely the fuck not! He just hated you! To death!

HE was gonna hop to a DIFFERENT reality! One that probably had blackjack and hookers! Appreciated his GENIUS! Or at least that had been the plan... until Batman Super DUPER broke his bones for threatening all of reality. As one does.

It was in the file.

Page 17.

Tim only bothered to read to page 15. Because he was short on time and the world was dying. He didn't give a shit about the assholes life story. He probably should have. Because if he HAD? He would have realized he wasn't going to die today.

Instead he's in the Vault.

THE Vault.

The Super Dangerous Batman's Final Fuck You Vault of DANGEROUS EXPLODING DOOM Vault(tm). He's not doing so hot. What with the hiking for days without rest, poisoned air, no food or water, and expecting to die. He's standing in front of THE "destroys the universe" bomb. Blinking dumbly down at it.

These many factors are probably why he fails to dodge.

WHAM!

Getting full body takled by a well rested, highly trained, adrenaline filled Alpha? BIG Ouch. But at least Tim get medical aid and an IV of fluids! Followed by everyone's FAVORITE gameshow~ Paranoid Bat Duel Interrogations, Code Word Exchanges, and General Angry Wet Cat Posturing!

The fact that Tim does not EXSIST here? Doesn't help. But his wrist computer DOES. The OTHER problem? Is this Reality has secondary genders? What? I mean, he HAS heard of planets like that. But...

It apparently trips them out just as much, that he only has one. But apparently Uncle Clark has the same problem. So he's given fake Beta pheromones to where.

He's... surprised they just let him stay. To be honest. But apparently "pack is pack", and HIS family may be gone, but so long as THIS version is alive? He has a home with them. Tim doesn't cry. It's dust. Sweat got in his eyes.

But! This wouldn't be a smutty Ask Thought if it stayed so wholesome, would it?

Because Tim is awkward. Clearly trying his best. But unsure of... how to? Bond. He doesn't HAVE the enhanced sense of smell. The scent glands. The instincts. He loved his family, but they didn't DO touch nearly as often as A/B/O/ packs need for healthy bonds. So really, he comes off as skittish. Jumpy. Abused almost.

In need of attention.

Bruce casually rubbing his shoulder. Clasping the back of his neck. Sitting near him. Duck tucking Tim's arm in his, resting his head on Tim's shoulder theatrically so he can rub his scent on him subtly. Jason slinging arms around him and using him as a leaning post.

And Damian. A child who never knew him as any sort of Rival or threat to his position, who sees him NOW as a battered and abused member joining the pack. A hero in his own right, Tim is no threat to Damian's long held position as Robin. Damian is out here legit RESEARCHING how to rehabilitate abused Betas and Omegas, trying to apply a hybrid approach.

Treating him like an easily spooked cat.

Tim starters getting used to being touched. Cuddled even. Pulled into laps and flopped upon. Honestly, even kinda LIKES this whole nest idea. It's pretty comfy.

But then it goes to shit. In the way it always seems to. Tim has started helping out. Building a record of Red Robin's presence LONG before Tim Wayne appears. Planning outings for when he CAN go out together with the others. Comparing realities. But then? Ivy. And ugly fight.

Heat inducer, straight to the face.

He calls it in. Already used a near by hose to get it off him. But... but he feels sick. Like, lose meal you ate as a four year old sick. Nightwing gets to him. Jabs him with the counter agent. Helps him back to the cave.

But not before a dangerously high fever starts to kick in. Blurred vision. Sever nausea. He's not REMOTELY aroused, but he IS being affected. They scramble to figure out what's happening.

The inducer is poisoning him.

The counter agent is helping, so another, STRONGER dose is applied. But that's all the can do. And even that, is incredibly rough in his liver. And he's still nauseous, still has a fever.

His body just doesn't have the proteins to break down the chemical of the inducer. Bruce sends everyone back out on patrol. He scoops Tim up. He'll tuck him into bed so he can rest. There really is nothing they can do.

But that's not true and they all know it. It's that none of them are willing to SAY it. To name the truth. There very much IS a way to get Tim the proteins he needs to break down the drug poisoning him. And with how deeply nauseous he is, it wouldn't be orally.

But they choke on it.

Eyes lingering on their other-reality pack mate. Frustrated, they leave to go take there anger out on some goons. Bruce himself tries not to think about it, as he carries Tim upstairs. As every jostle and sway makes Tim desperately suck in air to keep from hurling. As sweat catches the light. Making the younger man look like he'd just run a marathon.

He rests Tim on his bed. He's refusing to think about. Helps Tim out of his clothes. Isn't thinking about it. Goes, comes back, with cool water and a wash cloth. Most CERTAINLY not thinking about it.

Tim his thrown an arm over his eyes. To block out the light. Is pulling in even, practices breathes. Utterly miserable. When... when he doesn't have to be. Bruce wets the wash cloth and wipes him down. It's basicly with holding treatment.

Bruce's eyes stray the the sheet, lightly draped over Tim's hips. Only thing that covering him, now. He is horrifyingly glad Tim is scent blind. Tears his eyes away. Tells Tim that... technically... there IS one way to get the proteins into his system. If he doesn't want to wait this out.

For a long, terrifying, moment there is dead silence.

Bruce has ruined everything.

Tim hates him.

He's going to run away and never speak to him aga-

Bruce is pulled from his brooding panic spiral, by Tim dryly pointing out, that in CASE Bruce us unaware? He's fucking huge. And Tim is nauseous as shit right now. He WILL blow chunks. Not exactly sexy. Perfect timing as always, Bruce. Somethings truely ARE universal.

Bruce snorts. But Tim has a good point. This is hardly the most romantic situation. As sensual as sandpaper to the face. He promises to make it up to Tim. Feels that distinctly Alpha thrill at the prospect of GETTING to take care of someone. Tuck them close and provide for them.

For now, he massages. Gently. Careful not to rock. Slides his hand down to gently rub. Twirl his finger around and tease Tim's little cocklette clit, when things are wet enough, drift lower to slid in. Start to gently stretch his hole.

He doesn't have to fit. Today. Just has to get deep enough that no seed will slip out. A though occurs to him. They have heat aids, don't they? He bought them for Dick and Jason. They probably don't USE the smaller ones anymore, since they've grown. But that doesn't mean Alfred would have thrown them out.

Bruce leans down. Presses a kiss to Tim chest. And tells him he'll be right back. He's gonna get something that'll help.

Heads for the Heat/Rutt nest.

And yep. Right there on the high shelf in the back. The smaller plugs and toys. Grab that and a bottle of artificial slick, he's good to go. Back in short order.

The slick makes his fingers slide in so EASILY. He pulls back, picks up his favorite rutt sleeve from where he stashed in the box. And imagines what it will feel like, working himself inside that tight, fluttering hole. Brings himself to the edge with brutal efficiency, but doesn't let himself fall over. Sleave off, crawl forward.

Gently pushing. Still too tight. Tim gasping and gripping his arms, legs spread beneath him. He wants so BADLY to rock forward. To fuck into him. But he won't. Not Today. Just the tip, pushed just deep enough to gush inside, as he cums. He shudders, milking his cock into that body. Then grabs the cute little blue plug that'll keep it all inside him.

Rock it in.

It's impossible NOT to cuddle Tim after that. To wrap him in his scent and body. Instincts and hormones demand it.

His son's are of course FURIOUS. Mostly that he enticed Tim with out discussing it with them or with them there. His youngest, also being an Alpha, tries to stab him at breakfast. It's to be expected. The important thing is Tim feels better.

Tim is ALSO immediately hunted down by Damian, when maiming his father for sexing up Delicate Timothy failed. Scoundrel! Cad! Damian bets he wasn't even gentle and attentive! Barbarian! How could he!

So obviously, it's up to the ONLY Alpha in this household with ANY decency! To fix this! Which is how Tim starts the first day of MANY exciting days to come, by waking up to Damian eating him out like it's his mission in life. Fingers on a mission to find his g-spot or die trying. One overwhelming, if confused, and still waking up orgasm later?

Damian is tucking a pillow under his hips. Adjusting his grip. And..? Oh! Oh, big is genetic! Very full! And he hasn't even hit his final growth spurt yet. Holy shit. Then Damian pulls his hips back and snaps forward, and Tim's not thinking much of anything. Mostly just incoherent babbling and scrambling at the sheets.

Getting That Spot HAMMERED.

Shuddering apart.

Feeling something... different. Pressure. Stretch. Popping in and out, until it CANT and its just dragging the grind, just inside him. Damian shuddering, snapping his hips forward like he wants to FORCE it deep. Like a FIST inside him. Spraying his guts. Full! Oh god, full! It's grinding against everything that feels good. Amazing and like he's gonna die. Tim can SEE the little bulge of seed, from how full he's gotten.

He gets to learn EXACTLY how long it takes for a knot to go down.

"They" get caught Dick. Who hums and offers Tim advice. It CAN be a lot, can't it? Dick meanders over. Eyes trailing over Tim's straining and sweat soaked body. Where Damian is buried deep and knotted inside him. And leans down.

You know what always helps DICK when a knot is too much?

Tim knows that look in Dicks eyes. He does not trust that look. Tim doesn't want to know, Dick.

Too bad~☆! Says Robin number one, grining like a shark.

What helps HIM, is more orgasms, He informs, as his clever hand makes contact with Tim's clit. Tim jerks but can't escape. Pinching, twisting, tugging. Rubbing. Tim whines and jerks, coming apart while Dick watchs. Waits his turn.

It's a long morning.

Luckily, Omegas can't Knot. Unfortunately, that does NOTHING to stop them from bending you in half and railing you through the mattress. Pulling you up into their lap then up and down their cock like a sleeve. Kissing the air out of your lungs as they pin you to a wall, so they can get better leverage, fucking deep and hard like they want to permanently rearrange your insides.

Sometimes Omegas are ALSO Superhero acrobats.

Tim hides out in Jason's room, after he escapes Horny Devil and his beloved gremlin. Gets a shower. A nap. It's a mistaaaaake. Or not? Jason, at least, props him up in a comfy position before sliding home. Apparently stretched him A LOT while he slept, because frankly, the fullness feel nice instead of bloated.

He could almost go back to sleep.

Gentle rocking. Sweet praise being rumbled in his ear. Warm pressure covering him like a weighted blanket. The slow, building, hum of pleasure. 'S nice. Jason even arranged the pillows so Tim could slump face down and still breath just fine!

........you know what? He NEVER gets to sleep this easy. Go for it. This is nice. Unlike SOME people, at least Jason is being thoughtful. Have fun.

And Jason does have fun. Tim drifts in and out of a light snooze. Getting some sleep, getting some orgasms. Waking up to an absolutely GUSHING hole stuffed with cum. An exhausted Jason cuddled up next to him. The sheets may be beyond saving.

He has to shower, again.

Sticks to the walls. Hugs corners. As he keeps an eye out for Fuckwing the cuddler. Tim is HUNGRY damn it! He missed both breakfast AND lunch thanks to him! He eats quickly. Does not notice Alfred's exasperated look. The Beta can smell everything, after all.

And since HIS room is compromised. Tim, having learned nothing, decided to hide in Bruce's room. The perfect place to nap!

Which is obviously exactly where Bruce finds him. Smelling like bratty, young adult drama and jealousy, exhausted on his bed. Poor Tim. His kids fighting over Tim Time should NOT be taken out of Tim. They'll learn THAT the hard way, when he inevitably avoids them to rest.

Bruce, luckily, already learned all this in his playboy phase.

Want a massage? Some juice? Cuddles? I'm VERY non-threatening. Here if you ever feel horny. Let's get you all nested up, hmm?

And Tim's not even an Omega. He's not an ANYTHING. But damn if that's not effective. Bruce paying attention to him. Talking in that low, soothing rumble. Touching all soft and gentle. Not pushing or demand, just warm and smelling so GOOD and just.....

He's squirming out of his clothes and dragging Bruce down on top of him. Feeling incredibly decadent and kinda bratty. Pay attention to him. Fill him up and make him feel good. He's pouting and demanding and feeling clingy. And wonder of wonders?

Bruce doesn't scold him or scowl. But grins so indulgently, hums and hushs. Yes, yes. Of course. His little pillow princess, gonna get so full and knotted.

And Bruce is huge. But Jason stretched him so, SO much. So Bruce can rock into him now. Punch the air out of him, little by little, as he gets filled up. Whine and pant as his clit his teased. As Bruce fills him even when it feels like there should be no room left. Until he bottoms out. Grinds with little rocks of his hips.

Slides back and seems to take Tim's insides with him. Slowly. The more. In and out. Held still. Praised as his insides stretch out. As it starts to feel overwhelming good instead of just overwhelming. Faster. Harder. Whimpering and drooling as everything is pummeled by the snap of those hips. Fucked.

He's not even knotting him yet.

Bruce making him orgasm first. Almost dragging it out of him. So his body will relax enough to TAKE it. Then the pressure. The short, brutal little rutts against Tim's best spots. Made all the more sensitive having just orgasmed. Each one making Tim jolt and squeeze, milking that quickly expanding pressure. Having it GRIND, almost cruely, against where it feels best.

Unable to move, barely able to BREATHE, as he finally locks and begins to gush. Pumping deep. Filling and filling. Hot hands, rubbing to ease the strain. Or maybe just in fascination. He's been with Beta's but never someone who body straight out WASN'T designed for this sort of thing. Not poorly designed for. NOT designed for.

Tim looks almost pregnant. Not heavily. Just that tiny swell. But it's enough to wonder. Are they even compatible? He finds himself hoping the might be. Let's his hand drift down as he leans forward to press kisses to Tim's face. Works him up to another orgasm. See? Being knotted is nice. Feels good.

It's a bit awkward due to the angle, thanks to his own poor planning, but he is able to cuddle close to Tim. Who is finally getting used to it. Is nested in pillows, covered by Bruce, and filled to the brim. High as a kite on hormones thanks to the near but not quiet pain and repeated orgasms. There'll be no Red Robin on patrol tonight.

Tim of course, can barely walk the next day.

Which means he can not escape his brother's. Who love him VERY much and have multi-step plans to becoming THE favorite. Tim may soon become the stabby one, if they don't let him rest. Alfred is the favorite. He has food and doesn't keep Tim from his work.

(That's a lie. He loves all of them. But his fuck bruises have fuck bruises, so currently they're all BASTARDS. Dead to him! Hisssss!)

-🐼🐼🐼

!!! the angst of tim losing his universe but then ultimatly sent to another, an a/b/o one where he's the object of their desire but he can't fully handle it because his biology just isn't fully compatilble but that doesn't stop them from trying!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Ten

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, angst, heart-to-heart, language.

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Y/N and Dean danced delicately around the things they really should be discussing. They talked about their careers, the town gossip, and what they’d been up to for the past twelve years. She wiped down Dean’s kitchen, ignoring his protests, and now that the surfaces gleamed, Y/N felt the tension in the room rise. She couldn’t take much more of dodging the elephant in the room, it was driving her crazy, and she could feel her hackles rise the longer they stayed awkwardly quiet with each other.

It had never been like this between them before. Not even in the hospital had it been so electrically charged, and it terrified Y/N. She grabbed plates, cutlery, and pie and headed back to the dining table, where Dean quickly sliced and served them a piece of the sweet pastry treat. 

“So, uh, Bobby told me about your dad. I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” Dean spoke, breaking through the thickening tension. And there it was, the first elephant in the room. Y/N shrugged with indifference before she carefully responded.

“It is what it is. That man must’ve gone through five bottles of Jack a week, maybe more, for the past twenty years. It was bound to happen,” she finished and took a mouthful of pie.

“Have you seen him yet?” Dean asked, and she shook her head. “You gonna?” he prodded gently. Y/N shrugged again as she chewed the pie, responding after she swallowed.

“I know I should, I’ll probably regret it if I don’t, but there’s nothing that can be gained by me going there. According to Bobby, he doesn’t remember anything, so an apology or an explanation for what he did isn’t coming, so why bother? It’s not like I’ll get any closure from it,” Y/N shoved another piece of the pie in her mouth, and Dean studied her expression a little more before speaking again.

“So, it’s unlikely he remembers what he did to you?” Dean clarified, and she nodded. “But you won’t know for sure if you don’t see him. It might give you some peace or closure seeing him again even if he doesn’t remember-”

“I remember, Dean,” Y/N said a little louder than she intended. “I remember everything that happened when I was a kid, and anything that happens or is said or not said in that room will stay with me for the rest of my life, and he’ll get to remain blissfully ignorant of all of it. How’s that for closure?” she huffed.

“I just need a little more time to figure out what will be easier for me to live with. Will I be able to live with things the way they are now and happily never see him again? Can I face him knowing he’ll never apologise? Not even remember what he did?”

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you,” Dean said as he took her hand.

“Can you tell Bobby that?” Y/N scoffed a sad laugh. “He won’t get off my case. ‘Speak to your father,’ ‘speak to Dean,’ like it’s not hard enough coming back here after being away for so long and knowing I hurt people. He just expects everything to be fine, and I’ll slip back into the folds, be accepted, and fit in like the past decade never happened. It’s daunting, and I don’t know if I made the right choice coming back here, and I’m scared…”

“Okay, alright, stop and breathe,” Dean said as he gripped her shoulders. “First off, it’s your decision what you do about your father, alright? You hit the nail on the head, Princess. You, and only you, know what’s best for you, so you need to tell Bobby to back off and leave you be,” he smiled softly as she laughed, glad he could ease her worries just a little.

“Second, never doubt that you don’t fit in here. You do. It’s your home. The family you have here will always be your family. Blood or not. That won’t ever change. Were people hurt that you left? Yes, absolutely. But were any of them as hurt as you? No. Not even close. They were hurt because they didn’t know the extent of what was happening and felt like they’d failed you in every way.”

“I never told anyone, Dean. Only you,” she frowned, a slight look of accusation crossing her features.

“And I never told anyone, I swear to you. But, Princess, it was no secret your father was an alcoholic. It didn’t go unnoticed that there was some level of neglect. That you had to look after the both of you much younger than any kid should have to,” Dean said as he placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin and pushed gently to force her to meet his gaze.

“The bruises, cuts, broken bones,” Dean continued, “were mostly hidden, but more than once, mom asked about a black eye or the fingerprint bruises on your arms. The black eyes I explained away as your clumsiness,” he smiled softly at her sad laugh. “The bruises as you were probably putting your dad to bed,” Dean swiped the tears from her cheek that had fallen.

“And then, Bobby and Mom got letters telling them everything, and the guilt and hurt they had because they didn’t help you-”

“When I started school,” Y/N interrupted, “my father sat me down and said that if I told anyone about the drinking and the hitting, he’d be taken away, and I’d never see him again. And because I didn’t have a mother, I’d be taken far away from Uncle Bobby and you guys and be put in a foster home. I’d never see anyone I loved ever again. It’s why I didn’t tell anyone. Except you. And why I was so insistent that you didn’t tell anyone. That’s on me, not them.”

“It’s not on you, Y/N. Not telling anyone was the decision of a frightened little girl stuck between protecting herself and protecting her father. She did what she thought was right and tried to protect both of them. All she had to do was hold on and keep pretending ‘til she was old enough to get the hell outta Dodge. Well, Lawrence, technically, but you get what I mean!” Dean smiled at the soft chuckle she gave him.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, or it’s too soon, tell me, and it’s dropped,” Dean said and licked his lips. “Mom wants to reach out to you. She misses you. I do, too,” he finished as he gently took her hands again.

“I’ll call her, and maybe we can arrange something when I come off night shift rotation next week,” Y/N said quietly. “I miss her too,” she smiled sadly. “But I miss you the most, and that scares me.”

Dean saw the water pool in her eyes and frowned. He’d thought she might be overly guarded tonight, having not seen each other in so long, and that it’d take longer for her to put her armour down. She did have shields up, he could see them, but his Y/N, his girl, was cautiously peeking over them, just waiting to bring them down completely.

“What scares you, Princess? Me?” he asked, following her lead and lowering his guard slightly.

“God, not you! Never you, Dean. I’m scared of this. Us. You invited me here, said we needed to talk, and yeah, we’re talking, but not really about what we need to talk about. There’s this…” Y/N trailed off, hands gesturing wildly, trying to find the right words. “Vibe… this tension that is slapping me in the face, and quite honestly, I can’t figure out if you wanna kiss me or yell at me. And that scares me because there was a time when I could read you, cut through all the bullshit and get straight to the point.

“And yeah,” she continued before he could respond. “That’s my fault. Because I left, and it’s been a long time, and we’ve probably grown apart. Changed beyond the other’s recognition,” she finished and ran her hands down her face in frustration. 

Dean wasn’t sure what she was trying to say and couldn’t predict where this would go. Yes, they had both changed, but he wasn’t sure he’d changed as much as she had. He was proud of who she’d become. Everything from how she carried herself to how she spoke with more confidence than he’d ever heard from her astounded him. He couldn’t wait to get to know her all over again. The spark of physical attraction was still there for him. She was as beautiful as she’d always been. More beautiful. He also couldn’t deny that he thought her confidence was quite the turn on.

“Alright,” Dean said. “Let’s get the ball rolling. I read your letter. Mom gave it to me the day you met Jess. You thanked me for not asking you to stay?” he questioned.

“Yes. You probably saved both our lives that night,” Y/N smiled sadly.

“Princess…” Dean whispered, and she shook her head, cutting him off.

“You might not realise this, but I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. My father would’ve gone too far again, and you’d have killed him. And because you’re a good man, you’d have turned yourself in,” she said as she touched his cheek, caressing his jaw with her thumb.

Dean’s lips tightened, and he nodded once, confirming that was precisely what he’d have done.

“So, tell me, Dean,” Y/N said. “What are we doing here? What do you really want?”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @kazsrm67 @waters-2567 @spnbaby-67

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[writingoddess1125]

Theater Brat 🎭 pt. 2

Didn't expect to make this to turn into a series but due to popular demand I gotcha guys! Also I got the other part set too

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Part two Also kinda Fluffy + bit of Angst

Buggy couldn't lie- he had enjoyed his time with you. Greatly- often whining and throwing what was equivalent to a temper tantrum when others watched over him, so you had become essentially in charge of his head of sorts.

You'd feed him, humor him with your smart comebacks and even shared a interest with him. That and he couldn't help but find you attractive, which he often exploited in a series of dirty jokes. The two of you could judt sit for hours and talk about different play, or whatever came to mine. He had never had a person in his life he could do this with- Even Shanks hasn't been this open to conversation.

Buggy often talking about different things he had done in his young life in order to love the theater. Even admitting in some way it was for attention he went into his performing roles. Laying on your bed you looked to Buggy who was on his respected spot on the nightstand.

"Well, Buggy I'm sorry to Rain on your parade but- It doesn't sound like Shanks betrayed you-" You deadpanned.

"But he did! I would have been rich and started up my crew early! I could have done so much!!" He yelled, Angry just thinking about his old friendemy- you chuckled

"It sounded like an accident and then he saved you- honestly you should be happy, You're a feared Pirate Captian like you wanted and have abilities to boot" You pointed out, Smiling as you watched the gears turn in his head at your words. Before he replied your bedroom door slammed open- Zoro standing there with a frown at the sight of the two of you.

He had grown very suspicious over the freindly relationship you'd develop with Buggy. While no one else spoke on it and Even Luffy thought in some way it was funny, Zoro had been very resevered and his attitude growing a bit frosty at you.

"We are landing in Tangerine Town soon-" He said calmly, walking forward and picking up Buggy and Tossing him in the burlap sack quickly. Ignoring the Fuss from the head as he shot you a cold look.

"Be ready" He said before leaving with Buggy head. It was rather uncomforble being in the town and seeing Nami with her village- a bubble of resentment there even when learning from her sister and later Nami herself what had taken place and sobbing to Luffy for help. The whole time Buggy having been silent on Zoro's hip... listening. That evening when everyone was trying to rest for the fight in the morning to help Nami and her Village you heard shuffling from the bag Buggy was in-

"(Y/N) get out now.... Arlong is too strong.. please" You heard him whisper. But turned away and continued to sleep. Hoping he thought you asleep...

At daybreak the plan was set heading to Arlong Park to liberate the people, As the battle started it was like chaos broke out, Fishman surrounding you all and beginning to attack- Your specialty wasn't fighting but you tried your hardest. Eventually being that you couldnt help but notice a headless body hanging next to stuffed animals.

Making your way towards it, you pulled out the short Dagger you'd been using to defend yourself. Ready to help cut the restraints that held him up, However as you got close you saw a larger Fishman appear next to the shack, He looked similar to that of a pufferfish- he was twice your size and cackled at seeing you, Holding a massive sword which he swung at you and you barely dodged.

A scream ripped from you as you dodged and ran- A Dagger wasn't going to beat a giant pufferman with a damn claymore. You ran into the forest, hearing heavy footsteps behind you which made you glance back.

Seeing Pufferfishman chasing you ran as fast as you could. Your lungs burning as he tried to outrun him. Tears brimming in your eyes as his quills pulled and he shot out poisonous darts.

While you tried to weave through the the trees it seemed lucky wasn't on your side- as one of the poisonous darts stuck in your arm. You screamed in pain and stumbled, trying to keep a running bur the pain felt almost unbearable. Stumbling to the ground as you held your arm- it felt like fire.

"Hahaha! Such weak things you humans are!" The Fishman yelled, getting closer to you as he puffed up to deliver a final blow.

"Chop Chop Canon!"

Two arms shot out with knives attached, Slicing the Fishman down the sides- cutting off effectively its arms. Before a flying hand turned and sliced off the head. The Fishman crumbling to the ground before your feet as the arms returned to its owner-

Buggy panted as he was covered in blood ot seemed having killed some more of Arlongs men to find yoh. Rushing to you quickly as you held your side, you gasping in pain as you felt the harsh burn of the poisonous dart in your skin tears rolling down your cheeks as you watched Buggy look over the injury. Using his gloved hand and in one fluid motion yanking out the dart making you scream in pain.

"I know I know. Bare with me just a bit more Doll"

He muttered. Pulling off his bandana first before leaning forward and putting his lips to the wound before starting to suck and spit out the mix of poison and blood. Holding your arm tightly to keep it from spreading as quickly as possible as he worked.

After a few moments of this he tied his bandana tightly over the wound. Looking over your face, noting the pale appearance.

"Come with me (Y/N) we need to leave my shop is close-!" He said ready tonpull you but you quickly resisted. Pulling back slightly.

"I can't go with you Buggy- I have to stay with my crew..."

Buggy grabbed your hand, Looking you in the eyes like he wanted to say more, fight, throw his fit or even beg. However he gave only a saddened sigh and released you.

"You really don't want to come with me?..." Buggy asked, it was odd- your chest hurt at seeing him in such a way. It wasn't exactly pathetic but it was like you had kicked a puppy..

"Just N-Not now- I did promise to draw one of your shows afterall. But right now my crew needs me-" You say, figuring this was the best option. His eyes softened in disappointment but he nodded non the less.

Buggy looked up, seeing the figure of Usopp running it looked like he had faced his own battle already. He looked back at you and carefully released your hand, backing away before he whistled loudly to catch Usopp attention before bolting. The fellow strawhat seeing you and rushing to your side.

Usopp helped you up, frantically ranting about how dangerous this all was before trying to lead to back to the group. Once the battle ended and the crew ended up back at Tangerine town you received the antidote for the poison which luckily had been mostly sucked out before it took effect. Laying by the fire you stared tried to let the day roll off you, it had been too eventful and you didn't know how to feel. Buggys disappointed eyes Seeming to appear everytime you closed them. A shuffle of someone sitting next to you drew you from your thoughts, seeing Zoro seated next to you with his second plate.

"He helped you didn't he- The clown?" Zoro asked bluntly, staring straight ahead. You looked to him softly before nodding and messed with the bandana still tied to your arm.

"Yes..." You mutter softly, Zoro giving only a grunt in reply before continuing his meal. A uncompleted silence falling over the two of you. Nothing else was said and while you enjoyed the party, you couldn't help but feel conflicted non the less.

That night back on the Going Merry you felt... Uneasy? Tossing and turning- Was it because you had gotten so used to Buggy being there? His head laid on a Pillow next to the nightstand? You sighed, Rolling over again to stare out the window. The movement of the waves finally starting to lull you to sleep, the long day slipping behind you as you felt relaxed enough to ignore any odd feelings.

"Mmm!?" You hummed, eyes wide as you felt a form pinning you down a hand placed tightly over your mouth to keep from screaming. Blinking quickly your eyes trg focused on the form above you.

"Don't scream" You hear the hushed voice whisper in your ear- A shiver running through your form as you recognize the voice. Buggy- Seeing him above you, it was far different then the disheveled head you had grown uses to- He was clean with fresh makeup, a few peices of his blue hair having slipped from his bandana and hat indicating it was freshly washed paired with the sweet apple scent that wafted off him.

Slowly he removed his hands from your lips, glancing at Nami's bed to make sure she was still asleep before meeting your gaze.

"Buggy? What the hell are you doing here?" You whispered harshly. Trying to sit up for a second but he gently pushed you back down into the bed.

"Well.. I made a promise to you that you'd see one of my shows- without the 'unpleasant bits" He used quotation fingers at the unpleasant bits, his eyes not helping to roll but he smiled down at you anyway. Paired with traveling down to snag a peak at the rest of your sleep attire- Which both made you blush lightly and pinch what was the closest to your hands- in this case his thigh.

"Oh~ Kinky-"

"No-" You give a faux glare, before glancing around quietly. One show couldnt hurt right? It wasn't like the crew would know about about it-

"Fine- One show" you whisper out, a wide smile pulling at Buggy face as he climbed off you gently. Fixing his large hat like he was preparing for something bigger.

"Good, and just to make it easier- Sorry (Y/N)" He said softly, holding up the stumble where his left hand should have been. You look at him confused before turning to see his hand floating next to your head as he squeezed a Muggy Ball. The red smoke filling your lungs as the world started to spin, as the world turned black you felt warm hands grab you.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one peice #op buggy

[pianocat939]

Celina please with a cherry on top can I please request some HCs on Yandere Donnie x villain reader that likes to flirt with him ?

Why am I so happy when my name is used??? I literally hear it every day???

Enemies to lovers except make it unhinged and terrifying

Tw: stalking, implied kidnapping, MC gets tranquilized, Donnie you don't need to be like Mikey

Yandere D'Nello with Villain MC who Flirts a lot

I think his reaction can depend on what precisely the flirting is.

Like if it was your more typical romantic flirting, then his reaction is indifferent. He might act cocky/confident but isn't affected in a sense it is supposed to be.

However, if it's more praise/compliments (specifically over his gadgets or the intellectual aspects about him), he will be both happy and flustered.

If you're in the middle of a fight then it'll distract him slightly, unless you're like the Kraang or something that's offended him greatly before.

When he goes back to the lair, he'll immediately scour for information about you. Whether it's your past life or the list of crimes you've committed; in other words, he wants to know everything about you.

Over time, he'll try to purposefully bump into you somehow. Most likely from observing your habits through cameras/trackers/records. He wants to hear more, hear more of your words. Your lovely voice, the terrifying laugh, he wants to be consumed by your everything.

If his brothers are sane, then they'll obviously notice how he's antsy to go to the same place every night. So, like a normal person, they'll follow him and the sight they see makes them want to pluck their eyes out (except for Mikey).

Their brother, Donatello, the guy who is the most lucid of them all, is crushing over an enemy? With a friend, it would make sense but fighting someone every day to meet up with them? Quite the wonder.

Raph is going to rush in, defeat the villain then get Donnie out of there as quick as possible. Leo, could either go two ways, help Raph, or go up to Donnie and either laugh at him or question whatever the fuck he is doing.

Mikey just cheering Donnie on. He sees no wrong over him crushing over an enemy and plus it's not like he's any better with all the unhinged things he does on the regular.

During the fight, Donnie is going to ask questions about you and in general, try to get closer. Don't mind his brothers, continue your behaviour, please!

Let's say the next fight after his brothers fail to stop him, he meets you again. But this time, he holds a launcher. You obviously know it's a weapon so you keep an eye on it, already knowing its intentions.

Meanwhile, Donnie's grinning in joy. Finally, the day has come!

As you battle, he dodges your attacks, not attacking once. He just clutches the launcher and gets too close for comfort.

Unaware there's an opening for him, he launches his weapon, hitting right at your neck. What your thought was a bullet or rocket of some kind, turns out to be a tranquilizer.

Usually, it would take a few minutes for it to kick in, but with his engineering, it's much more potent. Within seconds you're becoming drowsy, your vision blurring.

And in the final moments your awake, he kneels in front of you (as you've fallen down because of the drugs) his obsessive thoughts leaking out.

"Hah...Haha. Fi-Finally, I can take you home and you can talk to me whenever! I can't wait to show you all the things I've made for you!"

——————————————————

Bro's parental issues...Like Splinter no need to give the Asian parent treatment.

- Celina

#rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #tmnt2018 #yandere #yandere x reader #donnie

[angelsworks]

Little Witch The last kingdom x reader

Chapter 5

Next chapter -> H E R E

Series Masterlist -> Here

Type: Series

Summary: Your journey leads you to a town, where you plan to meet Astrid.

Warnings: 18 +, mature themes, abuse, injury, underwear shopping.

Sun breaks across the previously grey sky. It gives some indication to what time it is. You’ve been travelling since the morning. According to Finan it should only be half a days ride to the next town. You would estimate that the group had been travelling for two hours already.

For two hours you’d been in front of Uhtred. Pinned to the front of the saddle due to his size. Caged in by his thick thighs and strong forearms. It would almost be enjoyable if your back would cease its torment.

During your time spent with Steffen he had tried everything to make you break. His ideas weren’t often repeated. Giving you a glimpse into how sick and twisted he could really be. On one of your last days with him, he’d taken a whip to your back. Creating lacerations both long and deep all over.

Even now you were sure they were still open. You had no time from then till now to treat your wounds. Despite Uhtred being your master, you weren’t completely comfortable with him. Not comfortable enough to tell him about said injuries. It was hard to picture Uhtred being a healer of any kind. His talents lay elsewhere.

As far as country roads go, you are convinced this is the most boring. The trees all look the same, the grass is green, the road is a worn yellow colour. Every clop of the horses kicks up dust and continues to fill the air with sound of their hooves. It’s become background noise at this point. You wonder if silence would be better in some cases.

Your eyes glance to beyond the trees that line the sides of the road. Seeing more green grass, ferns bushes and finally flowers.

You see a bunch of pink and white tulips. Growing in a dominantly brown area. They stand out and attract your attention immediately. You know white tulips are Astrids favourite. Pink tulips being your own. The colour is one of your favourites. Reminding you of the sky before night, turning various shades of pink. It takes you back to your family’s farm.

Although the thoughts fill you with sorrow, a strange part of you wants the flowers. A reminder maybe? Of a happier time. Or maybe just because they are beautiful.

You look beside you, seeing all riders preoccupied with thinking. Even Uhtred, as you turn to look behind you, is busy with his own thoughts. Eyes glossy and attention elsewhere.

You decide that now is the time. You put your hands under Uhtred���s arms, holding loosely to the reins. With a tug up his hands have come off, giving you change to move your legs. You swing your right leg over the saddle and slide off the horse. Without stopping you dart into the woods, hearing Uhtred dismount behind you.

Your heart pounds as your feet beat against the floor. Dodging trees in your path as you make your way through the woods. Finally you see your tulips and drop to the floor. You’ve picked three pink and four white by the time Uhtred puts his arms around you. Putting you over his shoulder in one swing.

You grip tightly on to your flowers as he carries you back to his horse.

“You are quite the runner little witch.” He acknowledged, while you stay silent. Happy to have your flowers.

When you reach his horse you can see the rest of the group on guard. Expecting some threat to jump from behind Uhtred.

Instead of saying anything he turns around. Showing you over his shoulder, flowers in hand.

“Flowers?” Finan asks incredulous, “All that for flowers?”

You nod, “They’re pink.”

Your response elicits a huff from the Irishman. It brings a small smile to Uhtred’s lips. Though he hides it from you.

You feel Uhtred’s arms tighter around you this time. Making sure you won’t get the slip on him again. Silence falls over the group once more.

Aftwr a few more hours the town starts to appear. First you see more frequent houses, some farmers of both crops and animals. Then you see small groups of buildings, small villages. Then finally the town. It had a wooden fence surrounding it. Guard manning the gate and walking the fence in rotations.

Uhtred and his group pass without problem. The Lord being well enough known in this town that they show him respect. He’s welcomed in and told where to find lodging.

Uhtred halts his horse near a stable. The stable hand coming out to greet him quickly. The men remove their bags of valuables and hand the horses over to the boy.

You see Uhtred take rope out of his bag, holding out a hand expectantly. You’ve seen this in your vision, so you’ve got some idea to wear it’s going.

He ties the rope around your wrist, acting as a sort of bracelet. Then wraps it around a few times before tying the rope around his own wrist. The short length of rope means you can’t get far away without him knowing.

“I won’t have you running away now Witch.” Uhtred tells you. The last word attracts the attention of the stablehand. The boy looking around curiously at you. Quickly turning when he sees Finan and Sihtric’s glare towards him.

Uhtred leads you around the town beside him. The five of you trek through alleyways and streets alike. Passing many people as you go. None wearing the dark blue cloak you are hoping for.

Uhtred stops you when the group reaches a market square.

He turns to Finan, “I have business with the witch. I’ll meet you at the ale house soon.”

Finan is more than happy to oblige. Leading the way for Osferth and Sihtric.

With tulips still in hand you walk beside Uhtred through the streets. You notice how they seem to have gotten busier. More carriages, more carts, more people. At some point Uhtred had reached down for your hand. Finding it easier to manoeuvre the two of you around. The feeling makes you smile.

You pass through a maze of Stalls. Each covered in a different banner. They sell all sorts of trinkets on the table. From gold and silver to seeds and bread. You see all kinds of gemstone captured in metal on tables filled with jewellery.

You’re lead through the maze. The man attached to you seems to have an exact location in mind. He’s found that location when he stops in front of a stall that’s more hidden to the crowds. A woman stands at the front of the stall, looking over a variety of fabric samples.

“Elenor, it is good to see you.” He greets the woman. She looks at the two of you. A new spark lighting in her eyes. Her face has aged, her hair beginning to grey. But her smile could belong to a young woman. It lights her face and the world around her.

“Uhtred!” She cried, moving around the table to hug him.

“My lord, I did not expect to see you again.” She admits.

He pats her gently on the shoulder. Moving back to reveal you to her.

“I came in needs of your skills.” He tells her. While motioning to you.

She looks you over with appraising eyes. Looking over your rubber ‘shoes’ and black ‘dress’. Her face turns sour as she looks at your tattered clothes.

“My, my,” she repeats again. “Uhtred, you think too highly of my skills.”

He laughs, “Nonsense lady. You are the best seamstress in England. You could surely do something.”

She turns again. This time looking over your body, not your clothes.

Without your knowledge she is estimating your sizes. Mentally working out measurements for dresses and cloaks and shoes and robes.

“I will try Uhtred. What do you need?” She asks. Moving back to her table to look at the various fabrics she has.

You watch with surprised wonder as Uhtred’s words flow into an order. He points to fabrics and names a gown he wants made from that. You hear him mention a cloak and shoes and finally nightwear. A part that makes you blush, as he points to the more lacy of the fabrics for those choices. You had no idea Uhtred was so knowledgeable in womens clothes. You would tease him if you didn’t feel so grateful for it.

“Hmm, a large order like this will surely cost Uhtred.” She mutters, looking over her ribbons and fabrics.

“It will be no issue. Here,” he pulls money out of a coin bag attached to his belt. “Take this as a part of what is to come.”

She smiles, retreating to her tent. The large black tent is set up behind her stall. Blending into the background. As the flap opens you see a whole work room of dresses and gowns galore. The sight makes your eyes widen.

A tug on your wrist has you moving back through the market maze. Back to the square where you started. You take a new path to the Alehouse. The roads less crowded on this part of town.

“Thank you Uhtred.” You tell him, trying to meet his gaze.

“I can’t have my witch looking like a beggar.” He brushed you off. Trying to dirty the kind gesture.

You see through his act and can’t help but feel a little happier. The tulips in your hands are still surprisingly intact. It reminds you that you need to be looking for Astrid.

Among the carts of traders you see her. Her cloak is down and her hair is flowing around her. While she stands out from the crowd, the market is much too busy to keep an eye on her.

The constant pull from Uhtred makes it no easier to see her. Even with your frantically moving head, moving from side to side. When you leave that particular street you realise it’s hopeless. Not while you’re attached to Uhtred.

So you sigh and decide to wait for another opportunity.

The air inside the alehouse is hot from the crowd inside. The walls trap in the shouts and laughs and belches. The sounds bouncing of the stone walls.

Uhtred leads you to a table in the corner. Sihtric and Osferth are already sat. You see Finan at the bar, seeming to be flirting with the barmaid from the way he leans against the bar and speaks in low tones.

“Sit witch.” Uhtred commands when he sees you stood there staring.

When your sat he pulls at the rope on his wrist. Loosening it in his end, then uniting the knot around yours. It brings small relief to have your wrist unbound. You place your bunch of flowers on the oak table. Taking a moment to rub your now free wrist.

When Finan returns he looks very proud of himself. He carries two metal tankards, you assume for himself and Uhtred. Sihtric and Osferth already nursing their own.

The group talks amongst themselves. Talking of plans for when they reach Coccham. Some plans of new buildings for town, or their next adventure. You tune most of it out. Still trying to find an opportunity to go and search for Astrid.

When they men have moved on to their second tankards and are well on their way to getting drunk, you decide to make your move.

“I need to piss.” You say, hard in your resolve and leave little room for embarrassment or a smile. You hope the crude nature of your request makes them believe your lie.

It brings a choke from Osferth and a laugh from Finan.

“You will piss later.” Uhtred tells you. Brushing you off.

You frown. You need him to let you leave, now.

“Either I leave and find somewhere to go,” You pause. Making sure he sees the seriousness in your eyes. “Or I piss here.”

Finan stops his laughter with his hand as he watches Uhtred for a reaction.

His brows furrow, feeling as though you hide something more.

“Fine, you can have your piss. If you go anywhere else other than to piss, I’ll tie you to my bed post for the night.” Your eyes widen at his hushed words.

Trying to give little away as you nod. No matter where you end up tonight, you need to see Astrid. So you grab your flowers then stand and leave. making your way to the main town square again.

When you leave the men pull their heads closer, ready to question Uhtred. It’s clear from taking the flowers, you lie about where you plan to go.

“I think she plans to leave Uhtred.” Sihtric suggests. Keeping his voice low as he leans in towards the Lord. He knows his friend plans to keep you in their company. For obvious reasons he sees that you have the potential to be useful.

Uhtred nods, “That’s why I plan for you to follow her.”

Sihtric huffs, shaking his head. The last thing he wants to do is follow you anywhere.

“A monk would be spotted too easily from the crowd,” Uhtred tries to reason. “And Finan has no knowledge on being quiet.”

The comment causes the Irishman to jab him playfully. Sihtric relents, finishing his tankard in a few swallows and following you out the door.

He follows you as you wander down the street of the alehouse. Missing plenty of communal latrines on your way. Clearly you are not going to piss like you say. The sight makes his eyes narrow, feeling more suspicious of you.

He watches as you reach the town square. Looking around almost desperately, pink and white tulips in hand. You stop looking and almost run down towards an alleyway.

He follows at a distance. Positioning himself at the mouth of the alley so he can both see and hear what you do and say. But stays close enough to the marchants that he doesn’t look like he’s spying on you.

You almost tackle Astrid as you embrace her. Your eyes start to leak when you realise you can hold her again. From your time at the covenant, she had become a sort of second mother to you.

She wraps her strong arms around you. The action making you feel young again. Before things took such a turn.

“Hello (Y/N).” It’s the first time in a long time someone has used your name. Not witch, not lady, not anything other than your name. It fills your body with warmth.

“Oh Astrid, so much has happened. There’s so much to tell you and little time.” You practically sob. Burying your head into her leather chest plate.

Under her dark blue cloak she’s adorned in armour. The sight not unusual for the Dane. She often wore clothes similar to those seen on the battle field. You felt the hilt of her sword against your hip.

“I know little star,” you earned the name from all your stargazing. “The Elders have seen your struggle. They know of your parents death, of your killing of Steffens men, they know of Steffen. Child I am sorry for the pain he has coursed. But I have come to give you a message from the Elders.”

“They have told me of what they see. They say you travel now with your true master, Uhtred of Bebbaburgh. Is this true?”

You nod pulling away from the woman. Holding your flowers tightly in your fist.

“I am glad you have found protection. The Elders tell me to warn you of Steffen. He continues to hunt for you. He plans to take you to his bed and break your bond to Uhtred.”

You think you should be unable to feel shock at this point. You knew that was his plan for you. You just don’t expect him to still be hunting.

“They want you to know about your bond to a master, specifically Uhtred,” she paused looking around. “They have seen a future union between the two of you. One of marriage.”

You face heats and you feel dizzy. Between you and Uhtred? The man that practically hates you? He is your master and nothing more.

“If a seer and their master bind,” she raises an eyebrow so you can see the meaning behind her words. “Their bond cannot be broken. He will stay your master even if Steffen tries to break your bond. You will stay forever attached to Uhtred.”

It’s hard to process the new information. You would do anything to make sure you don’t lose your bond to Uhtred. But sex?

You’d never done anything with anyone before. You’d never had the chance. But now you find out that having sex with anyone but Uhtred will break the bond between you two. Leaving you masterless. Your sight would be uncontrolled. Who knows where it might lead you.

How would Uhtred feel about this. He seems to care very little about learning anything about you. He calls you witch, not your name. Yet he still keeps you with him.

“I also come bringing gifts. This dagger is for you. It’s small and light and easy to conceal. You can do so in this leg scabbard.” She pulls the dagger from her bag, handing it to you.

She also pulls out a pot of what looks like a herby paste. “This is for your wounds. You must apply it once daily for the next few week. Or else they will become yellow and poisoned . May Steffen rot in Niflheim the puny bastard.”

Her insult makes you laugh, as pitiful as it is. You dry your tears, handing her your flowers.

“Thank you little star. You are too kind. I must leave now. The seers have sent me elsewhere.” She tells you. Putting the flowers in a pocket of her bag.

“When will I see you again?” You ask, voice weak, afraid of her answer.

She wipes your face, “Do not cry baby seer, fate will have us meet soon. I am certain.” She hugs you a final times before leaving the alley.

When she is out of sight you steady yourself against the wall. Then begin to sob, loudly. You slide down the wall, collapsing to your knees. You wish for the life of your mother, your father, to return to you. You wish Steffen would leave you gone. You wish your new Master and his friends cared for you more. All while feeling the horrid cuts along your back against the cold stone wall.

You take many deep breaths to calm yourself. Feeling the tears drain out of you, along with the last of your energy. You wish to be in bed, sleeping. Back on your families farm. You wish for your only worries to return to feeding the horses and collecting the harvest.

But that was not the case. Now you needed to get up and deal with your situation. It would not be solved sitting on the floor of a dirty alley.

So you get up, brush your tatty dress off, and begin your walk back to the Tavern.

#angelsworks post #uhtred the last kingdom #osferth the last kingdom #the last kingdom osferth #the last kingdom x reader #sihtric the last kingdom #the last kingdom #the last kingdom series #finan the last kingdom #dark

[sungbeam]

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗! — eight

viii. is that my shirt ?!

2.1k written (omg im sorry)

in which sungchan's so-called plan includes a dash of jealousy, a pinch of friendship, and ... jisung's shirt??

park jisung x f!mc ; humor, mentions of alcohol, swearing, uhm ur wearing jisung's shirt at some point so if u think that's uncomfy...

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: surprise 😭? ik u all probably don't even remember what's going on cuz it's almost been TWO YEARS since the last update,, im sorry btw 😭 anyways, it's only this long bc i was stupid when i outlined this and i had to write more to make my stupid idea not sound as stupid

You could already tell that Mark was given speaker privileges when you pulled up outside the house and you felt the bass pulsing through your car. Your brother Mark had a few different aux cord modes: bass boost, lo-fi hoe, Celine Dion, and just plain stripper. You didn't particularly enjoy the latter because that was your brother (gross), but all of the others were quite enjoyable.

Chaeryeong told you earlier she would be coming with her dance club friends, so you had coerced Sungchan to carpool with you. Well, you actually hadn't needed to do any persuading. He somehow just… asked you. Huh. Weird.

"I didn't even realize I stole this shirt," you told him as the two of you hiked up the front lawn of the house, narrowly dodging a couple giggly boys stumbling down the street. You wrinkled your nose at the distinct "Beatbox" logo written in charmingly messy bubble letters on the front, signifying that one charity event the boys hosted a year ago. The back had been decorated in more pen inked doodles and a scrawl you guessed was close to Mark's. Or maybe it was Jeno's… either way, Sungchan had found it tucked among the rest of your t-shirts and you threw it on with no further complaints.

Sungchan shrugged, holding the door open for you as you both entered into the throes of the party. "You didn't realize you stole my pen that one time."

"A pen is different than a whole damn shirt though."

You glanced over at him to see if you had lost him to the crowd, but you should have known better since he towered almost everyone here. He seemed to have gotten a text from someone, but he was quick to tuck his phone away and search the crowd. "Who're you looking—"

He slung an arm over your shoulders and steered you toward the living room. "No one. C'mon, Mark hyung just asked me to bring you over to the DJ booth. Something about cashing in a song suggestion."

That immediately drew your attention. "I can't believe he remembered."

(And Sungchan couldn't believe he just got away with that. He looked over his shoulder toward the hallway where he saw Jisung's face appear in the crowd, then caught his eyes. Sungchan grinned to himself. It was time to get started.)

When you and Sungchan finally reached the DJ booth, Mark greeted you by handing you his phone. Mark and Sungchan exchanged looks over your head—everything was going perfectly.

"Hey, I'm gonna get us some drinks," Sungchan told you with a reassuring pat on your shoulder. You nodded to him as you scrolled through your song choices, but Sungchan was practically gone.

Not even a few steps away, Jisung appeared before him, his dark bangs hanging in his eyes. "Oh, hey."

Sungchan chirped back at him, "'Sup, man."

Jisung narrowed his eyes just slightly, head cocking to the side. "Is Yn here?"

Sungchan almost laughed at how well this was going. "Yeah, she's back with Mark. I was actually just gonna get her a drink—"

"I can get it," he said, and his eyes widened as if even he was surprised he just said that. He cleared his throat, cupping the back of his neck. "Uh—I mean, I can get all of us drinks. I was actually gonna ask if Mark hyung wanted anything."

Suuuure, Sungchan wanted to say. But he could respect this guy's quick thinking. "Oh, cool. Thanks, dude. I think Mark hyung says he's okay, so it's just Yn."

"Cool." And then he was gone.

As Sungchan turned back to the DJ table, he realized Jisung hadn't even asked Sungchan what you wanted or liked to drink.

When he returned to the DJ table, you threw Sungchan a confused look. "I thought you were getting drinks?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Jisung said he'd get them."

"Jisung?" Now, why in the world…

As if your brain had magically manifested him, you spied Jisung carefully maneuvering through the crowd. In one veiny hand, he clutched the necks of two bottles of some mystery liquor, most likely beer, while he raised a little can of ginger ale into the air over his head as if scared the bodies around him would spill it (yes, spill a sealed can of ginger ale).

You couldn't help but eye his attire—the white tank top beneath a dark bomber jacket, paired with a pair of black jeans. There was a silver chain link choker around his neck, and Sungchan even raised his eyebrows at the way your eyes made a generous sweep of the newcomer's form.

You hated him, huh?

Jisung set the beer bottles on the cleared off space on Mark's table, his eyes meeting yours first. He passed you the ginger ale, "Hey, for you."

You accepted it with a hasty nod. He must have asked Sungchan what you wanted.

"Oh, thanks." You took the bottom hem of the Beatbox T-shirt you wore and swiftly swiped it over the rim of the can, before cracking it open with a satisfying click and hiss.

Jisung clasped the back of his neck instinctually, but when he saw the shirt you wore, he thought offhandedly that you and he could've matched. Not that he wanted to match with you. Definitely not. Why would he want that?

You were probably wearing one of your brothers', but he could've sworn the little doodle on the corner of your shoulder looked… familiar.

Wait.

Wait a goddamn second.

Jisung's eyes widened in alarm.

Sungchan held back a snicker. "Uh, you good, Jisung?"

Jisung coughed, glancing over at Mark in case he had caught him staring, too, but the older Lee brother had already turned the opposite way to speak to Vernon from the SVT fraternity. Jisung popped open his beer bottle, then passed the other to Sungchan. "Yeah, ahem, I'm great. Hey, Yn, is that Mark's shirt?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you ducked your head to look at the shirt. "Actually, I'm not really sure."

"Oh really? 'Cause… I… I think it's mine."

You sputtered a laugh. "Good joke."

He grimaced. "Can you… turn around?"

"Turn around? Why?"

If Sungchan's eyes weren't deceiving him, he was certain Park Jisung was blushing.

Jisung sighed, a stressed sound. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead as he inspected the shirt you wore closer. “Because I would've written my name somewhere on the back,” he mumbled with a wince.

You could feel your face and neck warm after he stated his reason, and in an effort to get this matter solved so he could stop staring at you, you turned around. After a moment of silence, you twisted your head over your shoulder to peer back at Sungchan and Jisung. “See? Not your shirt.”

“Except, it definitely is his shirt, Yn,” Sungchan said, lifting his free hand up to cover his grin.

“What?”

Jisung had gone quiet, eyes widened like twin saucers. Not a thought passed behind those eyes as you attempted to look at your back to confirm exactly what both Sungchan and Jisung were telling you. It was impossible—how in the world could Jisung's shirt appear in your closet?

“Sungchan, is it really his shirt?” You asked your friend, pleading for him to tell you this was all a huge misunderstanding.

Sungchan had the decency to look sheepish. He reached over and gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling a part of the T-shirt edge so you could see. This brought you and him closer together as he pointed out Jisung's name to you.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who watched this interaction with a wariness he didn't know what to make of. You were wearing his shirt, and somehow looked… good in it…? His eye twitched—why weren't you as friendly with him as you were with Sungchan? He could totally be a good friend—

Acceptance, swiftly followed by immense embarrassment, swept over you. It seemed it wasn't just Jisung who had gone quiet; neither of you could look the other in the eye.

After stepping away from you, Sungchan's eyebrows arched high as he sipped his beer and his gaze flickered between the two of you. “Well, this is awkward,” he mused unhelpfully.

That was enough to snap Jisung out of his daze. He clasped a hand on the back of his neck. “Would you be more comfortable in one of your brothers’ shirts? I can go grab one for you to change into—”

“Oh, uhm, yeah. I can just go upstairs and raid Mark's closet or something. I'm sure you'd like your shirt back.”

“No—I mean,” he sputtered, “yeah. It's no worries, really, if you don't wanna go through the trouble.”

Sungchan suppressed a screech akin to a pterodactyl. He hadn't thought you two would be this awkward around each other. It all played out a lot differently in his head, but… wait. Where the fuck did you go?

He realized quickly that you and Jisung were no longer right in front of him. Sungchan's head swiveled around nearby to search the crowd for you and Jisung, but it seemed that both of you were nowhere in the vicinity. Maybe you were headed up to swap shirts after all; that made his life easier.

As soon as you'd changed out of Jisung's Beatbox T-shirt and into one of Mark's Justin Bieber tour T-shirts, you prepared to step back out into the party. When you opened the door to Mark's bedroom, you found Jisung right where you'd left him, stationed outside while nursing his beer and holding your can of ginger ale.

“Here's your shirt,” you said to him, drawing his attention to you.

“Ah, thanks.” He traded you his T-shirt for your drink, but still, neither of you could hold eye contact.

For a moment, you racked your brain for something to say to loosen all this tension. “Uhm, you did great at the showcase, by the way. Your performance, I mean.”

Jisung's head perked up. “Oh, you stayed for it?” There was an intonation in his voice just now—you’d actually stayed and you also complimented him? He didn't understand why his heart was rattling around in his ribcage like a stampede of galloping horses, but he guessed it had something to do with the fact that he was pleasantly surprised. Something like pride filled his chest.

You gave a small nod, and if he wasn't mistaken, it almost looked shy. “I did end up staying. The thing I thought I had planned…” you trailed off and you filled the silence with a nonchalant shrug.

“Well, thanks for watching and I'm glad you thought I did well,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Was he finally getting through to you? Were you warming up to him at last?

He couldn't help but search your face then in the dim hallway light. Were your eyes always so pretty? There was a small smudge of silver glitter on the side of your cheek that glistened like diamonds, and he recognized it from somewhere on his shirt. It must have gotten into your face while you were changing.

He raised a hand, then froze. “Uh, you've got a little—a little something—” He pointed to his own cheek to tell you where it was.

“Oh!” You used the back of your hand to rub at it, but because glitter never listened the first time, it stayed put. “Is it gone?”

He winced. “No, it's, uhm—right… right there…”

You tried again, and he awkwardly tried to point it out without actually touching your face.

On your fourth attempt, he huffed. “Here,” he muttered, lifting his hand and gently brushing the glitter off.

When he was done, his hand fell back to his side like a dead weight as reality came crashing back. He coughed. “It's gone now.”

You averted your eyes. “Oh, cool, thanks.”

“Anyways, I should probably go put this away,” he said, gesturing down the hall toward his room with the shirt in his hand.

You gave an eager nod. “Right, yeah. I'll just—I’ll see you back down at the party then?”

Jisung bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, for sure! See you down there.”

Like two rats, the pair of you scurried away from each other in opposite directions. Even as you were descending the stairs, you threw a look back at Jisung, who was opening his bedroom door at the end of the hallway. Unbeknownst to you, Jisung had tossed you a glance just milliseconds before.

You swore you could still feel the brush of his fingers against your cheek, but it wasn't like it meant anything, right?

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[airyairyaucontraire]

I was thinking after my conversation about “I Want” songs with my nephew about moments when there should be a song like that, and one example I’d given him was Dorothy singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” so naturally I thought of Luke Skywalker on his little berm, and then I thought of the excellent idea I read somewhere that instead of Disney doing boring live action remakes of their great animated movies there should be animated remakes of live action movies, and those bumped together in my head to form Star Wars the Disney animated musical. Key points:

You are free to imagine the voice casting however you wish with one exception: obviously Ewan McGregor is playing Obi-Wan. Play him again and it’s a musical? Whoosh sound effect and a McGregor-shaped dust cloud as he makes for the studio.

Complete freedom to add scenes, and I don’t mean like the restored ANH scene where Han steps on Jabba’s tail - scenes exploring characters’ feelings through song! Including when they’re alone, which is the only way Leia would ever talk about her feelings.

Must look like classic cel animation. Character designs are inspired by but not required to be closely based on the actors (nor The Clone Wars). The animators will be instructed to draw the idea of Luke Skywalker, not Mark Hamill, if you see what I mean.

Mark Hamill can totally do the voice if he wants to though, obviously.

Definitely still have the stormtrooper who bonks his head on the door.

Examples (may not be in chronological order):

Luke’s “I Want” song obviously. Make it as “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” as you like.

Han gets an intro song making his way through Mos Eisley dodging bounty hunters. Make it as “One Jump Ahead” from Aladdin as you like.

“My Only Hope,” a song sung by Leia alone in her cell as she mourns for her planet and her parents. She falls apart in tears, then pulls herself together with a mighty effort and fixes her make-up with a little magic sci-fi device she had hidden up her sleeve and rises determined to stay in command of the situation and of herself - that’s her only hope.

“Your First Steps,” Obi-Wan’s big number while training Luke on the Falcon. A somewhat more comprehensive introduction to the Force than just trying not to get zapped by a training remote.

Other Stuff I Want:

Boba Fett cameo, because I love him.

Just as Leia cries when she’s alone, I need Luke to actually cry when he finds Owen and Beru’s bodies. Then, again like Leia, he pulls himself together and goes to do what he can. But he’s still sniffing and having to wipe his eyes with his sleeve as he drives back to Obi-Wan.

It would be corny but I’m not opposed to brief cameos, just background glimpses, of other characters who might be on Tatooine at the time during Han’s number. I mentioned Boba but we could also have Fennec Shand, Peli Motto and Cobb Vanth.

Before the medal ceremony ending (for which you’d better believe EVERYONE is singing, solos for the main characters and the entire Rebellion as a choir, the triumphal “A New Hope”) there’s a quiet scene with Alderaanian rebels raising a memorial stone to the people of Alderaan, and then anyone who lost someone on Alderaan can use a little laser pen to write their names on a small stone to place in front of it. Leia offers a stone and a pen to Luke, who demurs that he doesn’t want to intrude on something for Alderaan. Leia says, “I’m still the princess of Alderaan and I’m inviting you. You’re not intruding.” So we have a shot of their stones lying together on the base of the pile, inscribed “Breha and Bail Organa” and “Beru and Owen Lars.”

Yes in legible English (or substitute the local script for international release), I’m not doing Aurebesh.

When you use the Force your hair puffs out like a Studio Ghibli character.

Just go full 80s scifi anime with unlimited budget on the Death Star run scenes, obviously

#star wars

[renren-006]

Rematch | Sierra Six x F!Reader

Summary: a rematch between Lone Wolf and Sierra Six commences, but he's only thinking about protecting you

Word Count: 1457

Warnings: violence, fluff, blood, angst

A/N: this idea for a re-write of Lone and Six fightings was asked of me by an anonymous reader and I absolutely love the idea!! I hope I did it justice! there is a minor Six x reader included and I did that to add more to his need to save the reader...hope you enjoy it! 

Six knew from the very beginning that falling in love with you was totally a bad idea, but it happened anyways. You were Claire's caretaker, watching her most days and making sure she didn't have any trouble with her pacemaker. You were skilled in a lot of medical needs, like stitching up wounds for instance. When the few brake ins that did happen, you didn't think twice before shoving Six into a chair and stitching him up. Claire would watch from the doorway. She watched the way his eyes trailed your body, or how his hand would always come up to move your hair out of your face, even the small touches to your waist when you would dap his cuts. You felt the same feelings Six did, all the touches and glances led you to believe that this wasn't something simple between the two of you. You and knowing his line of work it scared you a little. Soon the two of you bit the bullet and got together, keeping it on the down low from anyone except for Fitz and Claire. So when Loyd's men came to take you and Claire, you figured he had no idea you meant so much to Six and just that you happened to be family to Fitz. 

He was also outraged when Fitz mentioned the two of you, Claire and yourself, being taken. Six was caught off guard sure, but the rage was the only thing he focused on. When he and Dani stormed the castle he was hell-bent on finding the three people in his life he cared for. While Dani went to distract the rest of the individuals in the house, Six tried his best to sneak inside. Six was angry, and he knew if anyone were to stand in his way, he would get aggressive. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. The doors opened to a small four and then the rounded stories. Six could see that the two sides, left and right, led to different hallways, he knew they wouldn't be downstairs and if anything would be kept in the further part of the upstairs. As Six crept up the stairs, trying to make as little nice a swoosh of air and a knowing tell of a man's boot sounded through the foyer.  A knife came flying through the air, almost hitting Six smack in the face. He glanced towards the wall that the knife was sticking out of then down at Lone Wolf who was waiting below the stairs. 

“Again?” Six quipped. Six knew that he could have passed through the halls unnoticed, but the man from the hospital had been so stealthy as to wait for Six to arrive that he had caught him. Six walked down the stairs meeting the Lone wold in the more fore. Six was still mad and knew that if this fight didn't stop at some point someone was going to end up not breathing. The two of them circled one another, Six dropping the gun he had in preparation for a hand-to-hand fight with the Lone Wolf. Lone signaled to Six to initiate the fight, something both wanted but neither wanted to start. Six wanted to end him, after the fight at the hospital and the multiple holes he had now because of him, he wanted to see him on the floor. Lone pulled out another knife, Six remembered his knife fighting from the hospital. Lone did his best to snag Six while they were fighting, Six did his best to dodge. Lone and Six kept up the fighting, Lone sliding while Six tried his best to evade and get the knife out of his hand. The martial arts techniques that both used made the fight seem more like a dance, the two hitting and jumping away, and one after another more blood pooled on the marble floor. While Lone fighting style included a bunch of kicks, sweeps, and throws Six was the opposite focusing on using his strength and evading techniques to win the fight. It didn't go over so well seeing as one would get hit in one area and followed by the other getting hit just opposite. Lone would switch out the knife style for basic martial arts and then throw the knife back into the fight

 Once Six got the knife out it was all hand to hand. Six had blood dripping down his cheek and Lone had a busted mouth from the battering Six had done. Both men were in immense pain and were tired of all the constant fighting that would happen. Six knew he was winning, could feel it and so could Lone Wolf. Lone passed around Six, wondering just what he could do to make this agent give up. When Lone threw his first punch Six dogged, another was thone landing right in Six stomach, making him hunch over. This continued Lane getting the upper hand and landing hit after hit. It didn't take long for Six to get back to eh swing of things and start his barrage of attacks again. This battle lasted a while Six glanced over at Lone with heavy breathing. These men were both tired and knew that they couldn’t keep going at this. 

“Wait!” Six said, huffing, Lone stopped, “He plans to kill you, not give you the money, I'm just here to save the people that were taken” he explained. Lone faltered, looking over at the agent with questioning eyes.

“The child?” Lone asked, hoping that these were the people he was talking about. 

“And her nurse” Six added without missing a beat. He missed her and knowing she was just upstairs was killing him. 

“Yours?” Lone inquired.

“Mine” Six responded confidently and assertively letting the other man know that if anything were to happen to you, he would mind going for another round. Lone nodded and started walking behind Six towards the stairs.

“They are this way” Lone said allowing Six to trail after him towards the room.

You heard three bodies drop in the hallway. Your sore cheek hurt as you clutched Claire to your chest while also watching Fitz doing his best to stand guard with his broken hand. When Six faces appeared in the doorway, and the stupid wink he did send your heart pounding, you jumped from behind the couch and ran into his arms. He draped the gun to the floor to be able to catch you and hold you close. You could see the blood and bruising that was on his face made you filter in his arms.

“I leave you for a month and you come back sporting cuts the size of rivers,” You said to him once he placed you back on the ground, “Makes me think your just with me for my nursing abilities”

“Maybe, but it's your smile that keeps me”, he said back, his eyes smiled down at your face which spread into the biggest smile he had seen in a while. His hand came up, covered in a short glove, and stroked your cheek.

“Who did this” Six asked worriedly. The bruise that was forming along your cheek and up the side of your face was bad. It was the only strike you had taken, seeing as the man that had taken you from your home.

“It's not important” You insisted, not wanting to think about the things Six may do to them.

“It is!” He insisted, wanting to know wherever had hurt you. 

“Well I don't know his name, you probably killed him already,” You said back, raising your voice. Six’s facial experiential dropped at your tone, not used to you being so aggressive. You were often soft-spoken and kind, and having to care for Claire meant you had a motherly attitude most of the time.  “Can we just go home?” you asked him after watching his face change. You ran a hand over his face, watching him melt under your touch. He was glad you were safe and with him because if he had found you in any worse shape more bodies would be piled up. Six nodded, he wanting nothing more than to see you out of harm's way. Once Six had dealt with Loyd and the CIA agent Suzanna you were sent to live with Claire at a secure location. You were trapped in a room for weeks, only being let out to eat and go outside for fresh air. When Six came to get you, he looked put together. You smiled up at him.

“Let's get out of here, hm?” He asked taking the two of you away from the CIA facility and onto another adventure.

A/N: I really hope you liked it and anyone that wants to send me a request is more than welcome to!! Towards the end of August, however, I won't be posting as often as college starts but I will try. 

TagList: @blackberries45​ 

(let me know if you would like to be added)

#sierra six x you #sierra six x reader #sierra six #court gentry #court gentry imagine #court gentry x you #court gentry x reader #the grey man fan fiction #the grey man #ryan gosling #i love ryan gosling #obsetion

[theredwritingwitch]

Apollo is Dark

Pairing: Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: On the morning of launch day of the Apollo 12 mission, a storm brews through Cape Canaveral, stirring up trouble for launch but also a grim start for Tim Rockford’s newest case: the disappearance of your sister and her family. On a rainy day in November, a day written in the history books, you and Tim also discovery something out of this world.

Word Count: 22K

Warnings: Missing family, thunderstorm, curse words, sci-fi horror, body horror, death/sacrifice (not main character though), gun, PinV sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering

Ratings: Mature

Note: Robert’s chant at the end is from a poem called The Old Astronomer to His Pupil by Sarah Williams.

Cold Signals on Launch Day

Nov. 14, 1969. Cape Canaveral, Florida

This was not a good day for a launch. But it was a perfectly fine day as any to solve a case. At least that’s what Detective Tim Rockford thought. Palm trees swayed and braced their roots to the ground as sheets of rain beat over and over their long limbs. The midday sun was hidden behind large green and gray cumulonimbus clouds that traveled through the dark sky. The day was early, 11 in the morning but lunch break was still a ways away. Tim had rushed into the large front door of the Spanish style house, dodging sweeps of rain and wind, and excused his drenched look as he entered. The quiet house greeted him first as you closed the door behind him.

“No use apologizing for the rain detective, it’ll drown out your sorrows anyday.”

Tim undid his trench coat and hung up his hat. Your solemn tone grabbed his attention. 

“Still no use causing a mess inside the house,” Tim gave you a small smile. You only returned a nod to him.

“Well, welcome to my sister’s abode. If she were here she would offer you a cup of warm tea or coffee, probably even offer you a bowl of soup.”

Tim watched you as you wiped up some of the water from the floor with a spare towel. The rest of the house looked well lived in. Shoes were piled near the door, half empty drinks sat on the coffee table, loose sheets of homework lay on the dining table. You tossed the used towel into a basket of laundry that sat in the hall. A small layer of dust collected on the bookshelves, just as dishes sat idle in the sink. It was a quaint chaos of home-life that greeted the detective. It looked like a normal suburban family home; only missing one thing though.

You looked quite put together for someone whose family was missing. Your hair was styled well, your makeup right on point. Even your clothes looked well ironed and pressed. Tim had to admit to himself that you were a lot more put together than he was, and if he was less of a man he would have thought you were too well put together. But the small fidgets of your hands, running up and down your clothes, straightening yourself out, made it obvious to him that you may be on the verge of breaking. That and the call you two shared earlier in week devastated his heart as he heard you gasp and slow your breathing down when you told him the facts of the disappearances.

Now you were peering up at him with eyes that just barely held back the panic scream that you so obviously wanted to let out.

“Well let’s not wait any longer. Let’s get started then,” Tim reassured you as he squeezed your shoulder. You nodded and gestured towards the stairs.

“I thought the best place would be to look at my brother-in-law’s office. James practically lived in the room full time. My sister spent a lot of time there as well.”

“You said over the phone there weren’t any marital problems?”

“Correct, they got along well together. You see they’re both space cadets. Just obsessed with the sky and stars, like everyone else in this town,” you commented as you climbed the stairs with Tim trailing behind.

“James’ work for NASA took him back and forth from Houston to here, but he always preferred Florida.”

“Because his parents lived here.”

“Right. My sister Ruth liked it for the view,” you stated as you opened the office door. Tim was greeted by a large screen door that looked towards the Cape, an easy view of the rocket launch. “We’ll be able to see the Apollo 12 launch from here.”

“If they launch today.” Tim replied as he watched the wind plow more sheets of rain at the house.

“Guess we’ll find out.” He glanced upon your illuminated face as you turned on the lamp. You sounded so reserved for something so president for the human race, given the circumstances though, Tim thought it better as to not bring it up.

“You said James’ parents lived here with him and your sister?”

“Correct. Their room is on the main floor.”

“And the police have no leads on where they went either?”

“They said they’re looking in the local wildlife preserves, guess they believe the elderly are prone to driving off the road.”

“Could be,” Tim noticed the huff you let out, “They’re car is still here, isn’t it?”

“It is.” You eyed Tim with an exasperated look, “All their cars are here.” 

The office was a rather small room and stuffy, a few lamps lighting the paneled walls of the room. A small whiff of smoke was held in the air yet Tim didn’t see any cigarettes. Two desks filled the majority of the cramped room out in an “L” shape. A small chair fit into the opposite corner of the room near a small corner table. File cabinets filled the rest of the walls, some drawers open with overstuffed folders, while other drawers were unable to open from their packed supplies. A large tan, boxy computer sat on the desk, a black screen on display. The keyboard itself looked disheveled. The rest of the desk was covered in files, charts, notes, and sketches. The last two objects in the room were a large telescope that looked outside the glass doors and a radio propped on top of a file cabinet that softly filtered some static through the air as quiet voices of a local station tried relentlessly to busting through the static.

Tim’s eyes roamed the room again and again, “Keys are missing on the keyboard. Computer is covered in smudges. There’s a stack of half filled cups on that far off table. That telescope looks broken.” Finally his eyes trained back to you, “Are they normally a messy couple?”

“No, they were always so put together. I didn’t know this place was a mess till they were gone,” you said as you were a bit taken aback by his quick analysis.

“You said they both worked here together?” Tim asked as he looked over at the cups and plates leftover the table and desk.

“Right, they honestly worked well together too. I couldn’t tell you what they worked on specifically. They were always leagues ahead of any of our minds. But together they were on the same level.” You stood in the corner of the room, out of the detective’s way. 

“And how were they with the kids?”

“Normally they were all about the kids. Ruth and James loved them to pieces, loved teaching them anything they could. But I know from the notes left over in the kitchen that they left the kids with James’ parents a lot lately.”

“That was unusual,” Tim stated as he looked at you for confirmation.

“Correct, they hardly asked for babysitters. And James’ parents are a bit too old to keep up with the kids. Really, the grandparents lived here so James and Ruth could take care of them.” 

“So they were potentially extremely absorbed by something particular then.”

You agreed with the detective’s assessment, he had only skimmed over the surface of the office before making a precise conclusion.

“I assume the police already took a look at the computer?” Tim asked as he sat down.

“They did. Didn’t seem to take much time on the thing though. Said all the files looked too…” you trailed off.

“Too nonsensical to the average mind.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, let’s see if I can make heads or tails of it.”

“Think you’ve got the mind of a scientist or engineer, detective?”

Tim turned to you, liking that the dreary tone you had earlier was fading ever so slowly and replaced with something a bit more pleasant, at the very least. 

“We’re about to find out,” he said in a hushed tone for only you to hear.

You watched the detective turn to the computer again, missing the kind smile he had flashed you. There was part of you that wanted to tell the detective he had a nice smile. Part of you wanted to bask in a little bit of kindness before heading straight towards more disappointment that you were sure this case would be full of. It had been weeks since your sister disappeared with her family and in-laws, was it so wrong for you to want just a little bit of something good? Rolling your eyes at yourself, you leaned on the desk, avoiding the eyes of the faces of your missing family that hung on the wall. Were you really thinking about flirting with the detective that you hired to find your family? You couldn’t believe your own audacity. And of all the places, here in the house of your lost sister, right where she and her beloved husband would spend hours and hours cultivating their passion. You resigned yourself back to the fog that you had been living in the last few weeks, the disappearance of your family was important, not your need for companionship.

While watching Tim click the power button a few times all for the screen to sit black and empty, your eyes trained on his large hands as they skimmed over the edges of the computer feeling for the plugs. His broad shoulders made it hard for him to look behind the computer, which made you chuckle, gaining a quick grin and glance from Tim. Heat surged through your veins, a mixture of shame and pleasure hitting you. Quickly getting out of your own mind, you cleared your throat as Tim shook his head to the black screen as a few numbers and words popped on the screen before that suddenly blink out.

“Perks of being with NASA?” Tim asked as he looked under the desk.

“Apparently, admittedly I’m still partial to the typewriter.”

“Same here,” he laughed and you chuckled with him.

Tim knelt down to the floor, finding a small pillar of smoke coming out of the wall socket of the computer’s plug.

“Thought I smelled something. Looks like the computer is a dead end. I’m good at deciphering clues but I’m no technician.” He watched the small smile that graced your face from earlier fall. Cursing himself, he stood and gave you a reassuring nod to the stack of papers on the desk. “It looks like this was something they were working on last though, maybe it held their attention the most. Let’s take a look.”

Watching him look over the paperwork, you grimaced as he thumbed through it, “Good luck with that, the gibberish shorthand was illegible to the cops and even their NASA colleagues.”

Thumbing through the notes, you were right, Tim couldn’t translate the shorthand. They contained many passages of normal English letters and words and then slowly turned into strange symbols and markings that were sometimes crossed off or circled. Since the notes weren’t legible, Tim found his eyes wandering to the many sketches on the notes. Dotted lines, circles, and what Tim thought were measurements marked the pages.

“The cops said it was work jiberish, but the NASA engineers said it looked like games for the kids.”

Tim looked up at your pensive face, you still stood in the corner of the room until you slowly walked to the desk, opposite of him. “And what do you think they are?” he asked.

“A compass.” The detective looked over the cross marks again. You said it so matter factly.“My sister had a small compass necklace that James gave her for their last anniversary.”

Tim looked back down at the sketches, then at you. “Just look closely at the dots and lines, you can see the arrows,” you continued.

“You know this case better than anyone else, don’t you?” Tim smiled.

A large sigh left you, “Ruth and I were close growing up and even close now. We talked every week, even when we were miles apart. Family is important to us, so we always kept in close contact even when we had our disagreements. We were inseparable as kids, but then we found our own pursuits as adults. I found work, she found a husband.” You sounded small as you recollected this to him.

“You didn’t like James?” Tim prompted as he gathered more parts of the notes.

“ Oh, James was nice enough to me, perfectly polite, so all in all he was fine.” You waved your hand through the air to wave the thoughts away. “The first time I met him I could tell how well they got on with each other. You know, for how close my sister and I were, we never had our own language as they did. Could never keep up with their talks and ideas. They were happy. Even happier when they had the kids.” You watched Tim organize the notes into piles.

“Just the two kids right?”

“Daniel and Donna. Sweet kids, wicked smart too,” you had made your way to the screen doors now. The small balcony outside the room was littered with leaves and sticks.

“Just like their parents then.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly until you piped back up, “James and Ruth loved making up games for them, wanted to make sure the kids were always stimulated. That’s why the NASA brainiacs thought these were just games for the kids. James was always talking about the family.”

“These don’t look like games,” Tim frowned down at his work.

“That’s what I told the cops, I’ve seen their games and they look nothing like these…drawings?” you paused as you looked back down at the notes that Tim had arranged.

“Not a compass, but close.”

You returned to the desk, leaning over Tim’s shoulder, to view the mess in front of him. The pieces of paper before you were rotated and layer on top of each other. Dotted lines as well as solid lines traced out circles and plotted out layers of what seems to be contour lines of depth. Illegible symbols line the top and sides of the map. More symbols were scratched into the margins of the map as some were written in the small spaces of the latitude and longitude lines. Angled pieces of overlapped paper intersect to form several points of interest: a small anomaly followed by a dotted line, a cluster of blurry signals, and a large dark curling and swirling mass.

“Nice eyes detective,” you whispered as you leaned over his shoulder to see his work. Tim agreed with your assessment, it was rare that he got a compliment in his field of work. He was always expected to do his best no matter the situation. But it felt good to him to have your attention. He smiled as the whiff of your perfume, sandalwood and lily, caught his nose. He quickly remembered that he was working, your family had completely disappeared for weeks now, he chided himself to refocus.

"It's a bit of a crude assembly of a map. Things seem a bit out of proportion," Tim grumbled as he switched around a few skewed pieces of the puzzle.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, "Detective, this whole house seems like some sort of crude puzzle right now."

"How so, apart from the obvious?" 

Taking a step away from the detective, you looked out the screen door.

"Let's start with the outside first. You wouldn't have noticed it on a day like today, but the yard is only partially mowed." Tim rose from his seat to look at the lawn. Under the sharp strike of lightning, he could see the diagonal and mismatched stripes of mowed lawn. Curved lines ran through shaggy areas of grass and weeds. There were even small circular areas where the grass withered away to a crisp yellow death.

"As long as I've known James, he was always particular on the lawn."

"What else is off?"

"Their books are out of order, normally they are sorted by genre then author. But now they're all out of place and missing whole chunks of pages."

Tim looked back at the desk to the map. The scattered pieces of paper were all from different books, none repeating the same title or author.

"You'll find more pages stuffed in the cupboards of the kitchen, in the toilets, even in the frames of the photos," you announced as you pointed to a family photo on the wall. Tim opened the back of the frame to find more loose pages of different books flattened behind the photo. 

"You've been in every corner of this house then," Tim closed the frame and placed it back on the wall as he looked over the family photo. Four smiling faces. Sweaters clean, dresses pressed, not a single bit out of place.

"Well when you find the food jarred up and placed in the closets while the clothes are neatly folded into the freezer; you tend to start looking at everything a little harder."

Tim frowned, "And how did the police explain that one?"

"Weird science experiment. But NASA says it's personal research. They're all too worked up about today's launch,” you scuffed and rolled your eyes.

“Anyone else's problem but theirs, right?” Tim already knew the song and dance. Blame shifting and subverting responsibilities was why he got jobs in the first place. 

"As always." Your heartbreak broke Tim's investigation of the room. 

You were just holding yourself together, just enough to get by. There was a slight tremor in your voice that was also brought out in the shaking of your fingers as you brushed your hair back in place. Even your eyes looked about the room for something steady to grasp on. 

Tim's hand grasped yours. You grasped at the sudden touch and looked up at his deep set brows and firm lips. The wrinkles of his forehead and eyes expanded. Even as determination covered the detective's face, you couldn't look away from the softness of his chocolate eyes.

"I won't be like them. I'm not going to leave you with little to no answers. That's not how I work, and I swear by the time I'm done, no matter how long it takes, I'll have an answer for you on where your family is." Tim stepped into your space and held your elbows in his hands as his thumbs made small circles into your skin, "We'll find them, no matter where they are." 

You gave him a small, numb nod that made his own sweet eyes haze in worry. 

"In whatever condition they may be in as well," you whispered just before Tim pulled you into a hug. He couldn't stand to hear you say that, even if it was true. You were so lost and on your own. All other cases Tim had worked, the people who called him had some sort of support system. But here you were, alone in the storm. 

You couldn't help yourself, even as you pressed yourself deeper into his hold under the black and white smiling faces of your lost relatives. You didn't dare look at the family picture as Tim's cologne overwhelmed your senses. You happily let him in. Inhaling the woods and cinnamon smell deeply, Tim’s hands moved over your back . He tucked your face into his neck, feeling the worry and stress develop out of your body as you continued to lean into him, pressing your weight into his chest. The radio sang out the sweet melody of “Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie” in between breaks of fuzzy frequency, that was only drowned out by Tim’s heartbeat. Feeling him inhale and exhale, you closed your eyes and slipped a little into the pleasant and cozy darkness of the cocoon that Tim’s arms offer. For his part, Tim followed you into that sweet obscurity, leaning his head onto your, swaying to a drowsy beat of his own.

Thunderously, a sudden rumble in the distance echoed to the house, only gaining volume as it continued to sound off. Shocked, the two of you broke apart from each other as the rumble took over the walls of the home, shaking the fan and light above the two of you and rattling the frames off the wall. Tim held you close to him as you both crouched to the ground. One arm circled around your back as the other steadied the two of you on the floor. The cabinets near the wall shook forward just as a bright light entered through the glass doors. Looking up, you and Tim saw the assent of the Apollo 12 rocket blast off into the atmosphere. 

You slowly stood placing your hands on the waving glass of the doors in front of you, Tim keeping a hand on your back as you both watched bright yellow fire soar through the stormy sky.

“Off to the moon,” Tim murmured behind you.

You nodded, “History in the making.”

“I listened to the first one launch on the radio, but I didn’t know about the shock wave that followed the blast off.”

“It’s not usually that intense,” you shifted in your spot as the rocket went higher and higher. The wind of the thunderstorm still swept through the air, sending gusts of wind against the windows even as the bright light of the rocket rammed its way through the storm.

“I didn’t think they would actually launch today.”

“Neither did I, guess they just decided—'' your train of thought was stopped when a blast of silver lightning rocked the house, lighting the sky up, and striking the ascending rocket. Both you and Tim gasped as the thunder of the storm echoed through the house, drowning out the rambles of the rocket. The light of the office and in the rest of the house blinked on and off until they finally all blinked off, sending the house into darkness. The buzzing of the radio fell silent to a wave of rumbles of the storm. You watched as the rest of the neighborhood fell into the same darkness as you, losing power one by one. 

“Maybe that’s why they should’ve rescheduled it. Damn,” Tim came to your side to crane his neck to watch the rocket further.

“This didn’t happen the other times they launched.”

“Have they launched in a storm before?”

“I don’t remember, but I’ve never heard about the power going out because of a launch.”

“Maybe the storm has something to do with that. I bet NASA has their own backup power for an event like this,” Tim said as he patted your back and shifted back to the office.

“I would hope so.” You bit your lip as Apollo 12 blinked out of sight and out of atmosphere. 

“They probably have numerous backup plans in place for an event like this.” Tim wished he had a backup plan himself. He didn’t expect to be so pulled towards you. He needed to get his shit together and get on with this search. That was the point of this whole situation, not to take advantage of some lonely woman with a missing sister and family. The best thing he could do for you, to help you, was not hold your hand in the dark but to get to work. “I’ve got a flashlight in the pocket of my trench coat, I’ll go grab it.”

You watched the detective quickly leave the room, missing the weight of his hands on you. Another flash of lightning soared through the room, drawing your attention to the picture frames that fell to the floor from the rumbles earlier. Picking them up and placing them back on the wall, your mind ran through the last conversations you had with your sister. She was such a determined force, always on the verge of something spectacular, an eureka moment. And she was always so good at making every moment a eureka moment, big or small, any event for her was an event of a lifetime. You were always happy for her, truly she deserved the world, but there was a part of you that yearned for what she had. Not specifically the life, the family, or job, but the eureka moment. You wanted that moment where everything came together, everything made sense, all your work paid off. You strived for the success that she had, you were still striving for success even as you heard the footsteps of the detective you hired enter the room.

Tim’s flashlight spun around the room, before settling on you. 

“So,” Tim's gravely voice filtered into the room, giving you a sense of security as you stood in the dark room alone, “If we want to find a pair of space enthusiasts, we have to think like space enthusiasts.”

You raised your eyebrow as you watched Tim strive over to the telescope, giving it a look over. 

“This isn’t a very good model for stargazing,” Tim spoke as he looked into the scope. “A bit of a step back for a couple of researchers.”

“Old world mixed in with the new,” you shrugged. “Gifts from relatives abroad. I’ve never seen them use it though.”

“Perhaps it’s more for looks than for work?” Tim moved his flashlight over the small golden plate around the barrel of the scope.

“Property of C.C.A.P.O.” Tim looked back at you. “Do you know what that stands for?” Shaking your head no to him, he continued on, “We’ll have to keep that in mind. How long have they worked for NASA?”

“James has been there for over 10 years now. Ruth has been there maybe a year now, after James convinced her to apply for a job.”

 “What did she do before that?”

“She did a lot of different things,” you sighed as you sat down in the desk chair. “Ruth volunteered at the kid’s school, worked at a museum, spent hours as a typist, had a writing gig for a time, and even took a few classes for nursing, but she always made time to help James with his research and calculation.”

Tim hummed and wrote down the initials and then paced over to the scattered pages of literature that made up the map.

“Do you have tape around here? I’d like to tape all these pages together,” Tim asked as he popped the end of the flashlight in his mouth to free his hands.

You scrambled to pull out a roll of tape and began helping the detective place piece by piece of yellowed tape on the ripped pages. Carefully sticking the tap down around written parts of the map, the two of you slowly pulled the puzzle together. There was a steady beat of rain against the glass window of the balcony door, that slowly dulled just as the tape roll got smaller and smaller. 

It wasn’t till near the end of the roll that you heard it. The storm was starting to settle down, the rain beat a quiet constant trickle without the rumbles of thunder. But now that the storm had dulled down, a new sound thumped through the house. It wasn’t new to you, though it was still unknown. You had heard it a few times in the past weeks, but never could find the source. Your hands slowed as you looked up around the room. Tim was mesmerized by the puzzle before him, until your hand grabbed his. He looked at you, confused and now concerned at the questionable look in your eye. Then he heard it.

Tim plopped the flashlight out of his mouth and lingered it around the office.

“I’ve heard that sound before but I haven’t been able to figure out what it is,” you whispered as Tim straightened out his back from loaming over the desk.

You both went quiet as Tim took a few steps outside of the office, you were close behind him with the taped up map in your hands. A quiet hallway greeted Tim as his eyes traced down the dark hall. In the dark interior, Tim walked towards four open doors. He took a few steps forward, listening to any unusual sounds. It wasn’t until he was between doors that the thumping beat began again. Tim glanced back at you, seeing you standing at the office door still. He motioned for you to stay quiet as he took a step in the master bedroom, finding a perfectly manicured room, crisp and clean of life. Then he went from one child’s bed room to another child’s room, giving a glance over the stuffed animals tucked neatly in the children’s beds. That was where the thumping started again, but it came from another room.

Tim placed his ear to the wall, walking to the beat, you scuttling behind. Leading to the final door, Tim opened the door wide to a small laundry room. The beating had stopped by the time you two had entered, but now there was a small whiff of smoke in the air. Tim looked around the room, first towards the washer and dryer. Both stood still next to shelves of towels and cleaning products. Spare linens stocked the other shelved wall, even toiletries stacked high next to a small radio. 

“There’s no power, there’s no way these machines are making the noise—” Tim said as he began to crouch down to the washer just as the thumping noise returned. Your eyes dashed from Tim’s form to the radio behind him. You both stand still as you watch the radio light up, the dial swinging back and forth from station to station. The only sound coming from the radio was the imbalanced and irregular thumping. No static, no voice, no instruments sang out through the speakers.

“But there’s no power,” you echoed Tim’s earlier response.

Tim reached out his hand to the dial, stopping the tuning. Screeching through the air, a steady and unrelenting thump sounded out. You both jumped back from the radio as the sound pierced your ears. Quickly you ducked behind the door, clamping your hands over your ears. Tim crouched to the floor, covering one of his ears. He extended one hand out, pointing towards the door, just as his wrist watch flew off. You both watched as it hit the speaker of the radio, seeming to be stuck to the fabric of the speaker. Several pieces of cleaning supplies and linen then flew off the shelves, striking the radio as well. The soft fabric over the speaker ripped open, revealing a pitch black hole that sucked the watch away. More spare bed sheets flew through the hole and into the darkness. A large container of detergent was sucked through the air and struck the radio, unable to fully go through the turning black hole until the force of the suction cracked and broke the container, forcing it in.

You and Tim looked in disbelief and horror as you both watched the suction tossing and breaking more objects. Clutching the door, you felt it begin to wobble, you could even feel your legs slightly slide against the floor. Tim felt his feet giving out as his eyes wouldn’t look away from the black of hole. You saw Tim slowly being sucked, his feet unable to find purchase against the tile floor. His glasses soon flew off his face towards the hole just before Tim’s fist captured the frames. As he clutched the glasses to him, you notice that he was further losing his traction against the suction of the black hole. Quickly you reached out to the detective, grabbing his arm and yanking him as hard as you could from your seat behind the door. Tim grabbed the knob of the door, yanking himself into you, pushing you further behind the door. You hugged Tim to your chest, clutching your arms around his neck as more towels flew over your heads. You both held on to each other, using the door as cover. Unaware of how much time went by, the suction abruptly stopped, the thumping ended, and the smell of smoke lifted through the air. 

Tim watched a few loose pieces of sheets drop to the ground, he didn't move for a moment, holding your arms around him tightly. You also refused to let go of him, burying your head into his hair, breathing hard. Slowly Tim moved the door, peeking at the radio and seeing the small pillar of smoke coming from the outlet the radio was plugged into. The speaker itself sat broken, but lacked the black hole that was once there.

You clutched at Tim’s arm as you both rose. 

“I don't want to be here any more, detective.”

“I don’t want you to stay here either.”

Tim grabbed your hand and yanked you out of the room and down the hall.

“Do you need to grab anything before we go?” Tim asked right before you both stopped a step away from the office as the shattering of glass pierced the air. Tim stretched his arm to hold you behind him as he peeked around the corner and into the room. Loose sheets of paper flew through the air, spiraling in circles before being sucked into the now blackened spiraling hole that replaced the screen of the computer. Cups, plates, office supplies all flung off of their settled places and were lost into the hole. You gripped Tim arms as you peered over him, just catching a glimpse of the filing cabinets shaking forward towards the computer. Tim’s tie lifted into the air causing you both to refocus from the computer to it.

“No, no, detective, I have a hotel room, nothing is here for me,” You shook Tim as you spoke. The detective then slammed the door to the office close, quickly grabbing your hand and sprinting down the stairs. “I don’t want to stay here, Can we just leave? Can we go? Please?” Your eyes began to well up as you stammered out words while almost falling down the stairs.

Tim tucked you to him “We’re going, don’t worry we’re going.” 

You both grabbed your jackets and exited the house, not bothering to lock the door as you threw it closed. Neither one of you minded the rain as you sprinted to Tim’s car. He opened the door for you before entering the car himself. Slapping the radio off, he turned the key. You clutched at the map still in your hands, shaking as you couldn’t decide whether to look at the map or at the house. It isn’t till Tim grabbed your hand that you both look at each other, unable to speak. A strike of lightning hit the sky, showing Tim the road ahead. He squeezed your hand and you nodded back to him. Shifting the car into gear, his eyes never left the road.

Stardust in Papercuts

Tim never bothered to store blankets or pillows at his office, normally he napped in his chair or just didn’t sleep at all. The coffee maker was well used, unlike the leather couch he had in his office. His office was simple: a used desk, typewriter, file cabinets, one chair for himself, and one chair for his client. The couch was a bonus that came from an old friend who moved away and didn’t want to take it. Honestly, if he was ever leaving the office to move, he would probably leave the couch behind. But currently he was rather thankful to have it. He watched your curled up form breath in and out while resting on the couch. He himself decided to rest his eyes while he sat in his chair, but not before blanketing you with his raincoat. 

Neither one of you dared to speak about what had happened in the house. The only words Tim had said was “I’ll order take out.”

Even now with the empty wrappers piled on his desk, his stomach full, and the rain slowly pattering against the windows; Tim was restless. You had passed out quickly after eating, he wished he could let exhaustion take over him like it got to you. He was glad you were getting sleep, he would bet money that this was the first decent amount of rest you had gotten in weeks. 

Tim watched your hair pool in front of your face, your chest rise and fall, your lips slightly twitch in your dream…or nightmare. You clutched his jacket with a vicious grip, one that made Tim slightly jealous that he wasn’t in the place of his jacket. Tim wasn’t trying to entertain the idea that he could perhaps snuggle in behind you on the couch, no he definitely wasn’t thinking about that. The over analyzing detective turned away from your sleeping form then, pleading with himself to get back on the next step in the case.

But as he eyed the taped up map pinned to a board on the wall, his mind swirled back to the earlier events. He couldn’t shake the pull he felt, his body slowly lifting off the floor as the bottomless pit in the radio swallowed item after item. He remembered the air being sucked out of him just as a sob was sucked out of you with your arms digging into him, holding him for dear life. He needed to remember to thank you for that later. Now here the two of you were, full of bad take out, fried from an incomprehensible site, and a broom closet now housing Tim’s large radio that he had instantly pushed and locked away.

The detective looked up at the board of missing faces that he had pinned to a board. If he had been alone, he would be in shear doubt of his own mind and senses. There would be no way he would have believed his own eyes of what he had witnessed. There was no way tiny black holes were popping up. First the radio, then the computer. As Tim poked a fork at his remaining takeout, he wondered if more holes had developed in other parts of the home, the television in the family room or the radio in the kitchen? He wondered what the house looked like currently. Surely if two holes had developed while you and Tim were present, then there might have been holes that had developed while the family were still present in the house.

Then Tim’s mind started to take a turn for the worst—

“Detective?”

Tim stopped his nibbling on the cold leftovers and turned towards you.

Your hair was tousled on one side, while your clothes were a bit crumbled from being curled up while sleeping. There was even a red mark streaked across your cheek from sleeping with your hand under your head. Even with eyes full of concern and confusion, Tim fought the urge to run over to hold you tight. You were still a stranger to him, but how many strangers stop you from getting sucked into a bottomless black hole? He didn’t believe he could call you a stranger any longer. No, the two of you were confidantes, perhaps it would even be reasonable to call you two survivors. Or maybe too early to say such a thing. 

“Did you sleep well?” Tim asked as he placed his food on the desk.

You shrugged, “As well as one can after…”

“A stomach full of Chinese food?” Tim offered to try and lighten the mood.

“Sure let’s go with that,” you gave him an appreciative smile. Both of you knew what you were alluding to but didn’t want to actually say. There was still this weight of realness and need for denial in the pit of your stomach. You looked over at Tim as he continued on about some of the late nights he’s had since starting his own private investigating business. His jacket was gone now, his white crisp shirt stretched over his wide shoulders as he braced his hands on his hip. Tim’s tie was loose, the first couple buttons of his shirt were open revealing the tops of a cotton shirt under it. The glasses he almost lost were perched on his desk now, smudges gone from where he once clutched them before they were almost sucked away. You hadn’t noticed it before but he had a leather holster strapped around his arms and shoulders, the gun still secured in it. Part of you wondered if he would have tried to shoot the radio, what would have happened then? 

“My back probably hates me from sleeping in the chair so many times,” Tim could see that you were looking at him but not listening to him. “The couch was ok?”

You blinked quickly as you refocused on him, “The couch? Yeah, it’s fine. Good enough for a nap anyways.”

Tim nodded, you were spacing out and he was dancing around the subject. Rain clouds still stretched through the sky, but the storm had lessened greatly from earlier. The afternoon was already upon the two of you and he needed to get moving on this case again. 

“We should talk,” he stated.

You only nodded, clearly not desiring in talking.

Tim rolled his chair up to you as he began, “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I wasn’t thinking you could.”

“I want to though, I want to continue looking and finding answers.”

“You think there are answers to whatever that was?” you held your hands over your arms, just like you did when Tim first met you.

“There have to be answers to it,” Tim didn’t let up, “In my profession there is always an answer. And my job is to find it.”

“And where would you find the answer to why miniature holes of bottomless vacuum are popping up all over my sister’s house?”

“The library.”

You and Tim stared at each other. You were judging him. Obviously that was not the answer you wanted but it was the best bet he had. 

“I always go to the library. You can find answers to so many things there.” He said as he rolled back to his desk for a small note. He rolled back to you, handing you the note. “Especially a handy place to find books such as these.”

Reading down the list you saw the titles of books: Captives of the Sun by James S Pickering, Close to Critical by Hal Clement, Practical Astrology: How to Make it Work for You by Jerryl Keane, Earthblood by Keith Laumer and Rosel George Brown, and You and Space Neighbors by John Lewellen.

“Are these…”

“I was able to see the names off of some of the pages your sister and brother-in-law used for their map. Some of the names were hard to read under the marks but I believe I deciphered most of them.”

You nodded in thought, looking over a particular title.

“We don’t have many leads but this is a decent lead into getting an understanding on potentially what Ruth and James were thinking,” Tim clarified as his hand came up to squeeze your knee.

“I remember seeing this one at their house,” you said as you pointed to the title The Corridors of Time by Poul Anderson.

Tim scooted closer to you, looking at the list. “Before or after they were gone?”

“Both.”

“Do you remember who was reading it?”

“Ruth. Ruth was holding it. The last time I visited, I remember walking through the house calling her name. She wasn’t answering but I eventually found her in one of the kids’ rooms.” Your eyes went glassy then.

“What was she doing?” Tim pushed you as his thumb rubbed your knee.

“Nothing. She was just standing there, in the middle of a mess, holding the book to her chest. I asked if she was ok, she just smiled and said everything was fine, just thinking about the mess the kids left behind.”

“Where were the kids?”

“She said they were with James, out for a bike ride together. But…” you paused then, remembering the room better. 

“The rooms were neat when I looked into them.”

“She cleaned the room up. Not the kids. The last time I saw the kids was before that,” you looked up at Tim then, your mouth beginning to wobble.

“Do you remember what the mess looked like?”

“Not well enough. Toys were all over the place. She wouldn’t let me help clean it though, and told me to not worry about it.”

Tim watched you as the gears slowly turned in your head.

“James’ parents’ room is a mess. At first I thought it was because they were the messy type. Then after talking to the police about their suspicion that they might be lost somewhere, I thought maybe they grabbed their stuff quickly and left. But they both need a lot of help to move around.”

“I remember there was a cane in the umbrella holder at the house.”

“James’ dad had canes everywhere, just in case he forgot one when he went to walk around. His mom had a bad back and knees, she mostly sat at her chair in the living room. Ruth would leave her to her knitting all day.”

Tim nodded as you continued to clutch his jacket around your shoulders.

“It just doesn’t make sense for them to be the ones to make the mess. And I mean it was a real mess. Their clothes were thrown everywhere, blankets tossed, pictures broken, the mattress itself is completely gone.” You looked up at him then.

“As in missing…” Tim offered.

You didn’t need to answer, Tim knew he was right when you continued, “The television in their room was still in the same spot it always was, but…”

Tim leaned forward then, “The screen was shattered.”

The conversation went quiet after that, only the muted acceptance that you two were off to the library next. There were words to be said out loud, there was an ease of understanding between the two of you. Looking yourself over in the mirror in the sun visor, you brushed away the sleep from your eyes as Tim drove the car through the rain. The radio was still shut off, Tim had made sure to double check it before entering the car. You didn’t know what he would be able to do if another black hole popped up in the radio, but it did comfort you that he at least checked it. Honestly you didn’t know why you were joining him on the investigation. He was the professional, not you. Although it was hard to say who was a professional in the case of black holes appearing in radios and televisions. Still, you were glad to be along with the detective, and you had the thought that he was glad to have you with him as well. 

Glancing over to Tim every now and again, you noted the crease in his brow, the firm frown formed on his lips. You had a feeling that you looked quite similar. It was a comfort, knowing that he was just as lost and even as confused as you. 

“When we get there, no splitting up. All right?”

“Agreed,” you hummed to Tim.

He glanced at you, “If anyone asks who you are, just tell them you're my investigative assistant. Moreover, you just let me do the talking.”

“Do I get a badge?”

“I don’t even have a badge,” Tim chuckled as he turned the wipers down to a lower speed.

“So you think we’ll be interrogating people? At every library on the Cape?”

“Interrogating isn’t the word I would use, but we will be asking a few questions. I found a good lead to go off of while you slept. There’s plenty of libraries on the Cape and on the mainland to choose from. If we went to each library…”

“It would take forever,” you completed his sentence.

“Exactly, but we’re in luck. After looking over the map again, I noticed a little clue. One of the pages in the map was stamped by one of the local libraries. Part of it was ripped off, but I made a few calls, and pinpointed the library to be one Lagoon Veterans Memorial Library.”

“That’s near a wildlife refuge, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tom looked over at you, a raised eyebrow questioning you.

“They really weren’t the type to go to parks is all.”

“So it’s a place they normally wouldn’t frequent. Great.” Tim was dismayed on the inside but restrained himself to not show it on the outside. He didn’t want you to see how exasperated he was getting from this investigation.

Tim continued to drive through the rain on the skinny winding roads that curved through the shallow marsh. A few palm trees sprawled about the marsh, swaying in time with the waves of the water under the constant pelting of the rain. Soon enough the library came into view. It was tucked away amongst the tall grass and trees, sitting alone paired with its tiny parking lot. Few lights lit up the old library. The building itself was built out of crumbling bricks and rotting wood. Tim lifted his raincoat up over your head as the two of you ran inside the building. 

Tim grabbed your elbow, stopping you from going too far into the building. You looked back at him confused but quickly turned worried when you saw the equally worried look on the detective’s face.

“Stay close. No wandering away.”

There were crinkles near his eyes and a slight pout to his lips. Amidst the pattering of rain, the clashing of waves in the marsh, and the falling of palm leaves, you found yourself allured to his sincerity. The gentleness of his hands, the sweetness of his eyes, even the slight youthful innocence of his face held your attention. 

“You too,” you replied back to him, patting his hand.

He gave you a squeeze and then lowered his voice, “If anything starts to get…windy, or if things start flying off the shelves, then we’re booking it out of here.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I mean it, I’m not risking our safety with whatever is going on.”

“But if it helps find my sister?” you looked conflicted with your own words.

“Then I’ll risk it, but not you.”

You paused for a moment, studying him. For the first time in weeks you felt something close to stability with Tim. There were so many unknowns going on all around you, but in the past few hours he had been a rock for you. And now? If something went wrong? So many things had already gone wrong!

“No.”

Tim frowned, and adjusted himself to face you completely, “What?”

“No. No more getting lost. No more going missing. No more fucking disappearing from my life.” You begin to shake as you speak. Tim guided you to the side of the library, following the deck as you continued. “My sister is gone, my brother-in-law is gone, my niece and nephew are missing, and even their grandparents are gone. There’s no one else around, no one seems to even care or give a fuck, no one but you. And you can’t disappear on me too, you can’t leave. No fucking around!” Your shaking hands grabbed Tim’s coat as his own hands held your own arm, bringing you in close to him.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better fucking not, cause I can’t fucking be alone anymore!”

“You won’t be, I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

“Promise! Promise me you won’t do some stupid shit like jumping in a spaceship, or falling down a black hole. None of that shit!” Tears welled up in your eyes.

You felt his hand hold the back of your head, drawing you to his chest and resting his chin on your head.

“Ok ok, it’s all right. No fucking around. No risking your safety or my own.” His hands moved over your back.

“Promise, please.” You sniffled into his shirt.

“Promise, no disappearing.” Tim’s voice rumbled in your ear. You felt the ghost of a kiss be placed on your head.

After a minute of holding each other, Tim slowly pulled you away from him. You only met his eyes when his finger pushed the leftover tears from your eyes.

“Let’s get to work.”

Squeaking wooden floors greeted you both, until a frail woman sitting at the front desk waved her greetings. Tim’s gruff voice greeted the woman back, introducing the two of you with your titles, one real and the other fake, not that the librarian knew.

“I called earlier about a family that is missing, I believe the parents checked out books from this library in the past.”

The librarian eyed Tim over her thick rimmed glasses that were strung together by a string of pearls. She nodded her head, “Yes, I remember your call.” 

“Do you happen to know the last time they were here?”

“My memory isn’t the best and I don’t work the front desk all the time...” the old librarian petered off as she spoke, waving her hand in the air as if to wave the question away.

“Do you have a list of past books they rented and returned? Perhaps even dates on when they were checked out?” you watched Tim’s hand land on his hip as he waited for the librarian to slowly fumble her way to a large journal. She flipped through the pages, scanning the names and murmuring to herself.

“She seems rather annoyed with us,” you noted in a hushed tone to Tim. 

“They always are annoyed,” Tim huffed. “This is where a badge would be handy. Most people don’t like Private Investigators.” The detective rubbed at his patchy beard, letting an exhausted sigh out.

“I like you.”

Tim turned his attention away from the slow moving librarian to you, “Yeah?”

A genuine smile formed on your lips, one that you hadn’t worn in quite a while, as you watched Tim's irritation form into surprise, “Yeah.”

“Really now?”

You suppressed a laugh so the librarian wouldn’t scold you, “Really. You're the only one who’s actually helping me, actually taking this seriously. No one else has gotten this far in the investigation.”

Tim studied you for a moment, “Even if this is a dead end?”

“Even if this amounts to nothing. Even if this whole investigation turns up nothing and my family is still missing, I’ll still like you.”

A tiny smile blessed Tim's face as he watched you. His hand reached up and settled to the small of your back. You watched him intently as he took a step towards you, a word forming on his lips as a loud thump shocked the two of you.

“I’m not really in the business of giving out information, you know,” the librarian eyed Tim up and down as she dramatically dropped the journal in front of you two.

 “Oh I’m certain you’re not in the business of giving out information about lost people, but you’re going to need to make an exception to that today…and I would advise making that exception to any missing person report in the future.”

Your eyes bulged out at Tim's assertive tone. He had been so gentle and instructional with you, you hadn’t heard his really detective voice till now.

The librarian grumbled as she opened the journal and handed it over to Tim, “I’ll be in the break room if you need anything else.” She squinted at Tim again and slowly shuffled off to a room behind the desk.

“We’ll be sure to call if we need anything,” Tim called back at her.

The two of you viewed the page in the journal, finding the names of your sister and brother-in-law paired with several book titles next to their name. Titles of books that Tim had jutted down from earlier were checked out and returned, plus many more titles. All were returned except two titles, but one book was asked to be held for them. Abd al-rahman al-Sufi's The Book of Fixed Stars. 

“Well, she’s about to really hate me,” Tim mumbled to you. 

You chuckled as Tim yelled out to the librarian.

“Do you still have The Book of Fixed Stars still on hold?”

In the distance, you heard the squeak of a chair moving and then saw the face of the librarian peek out from the room. “Nope, put it back on the shelf when they didn’t show up to collect.” She then ducked away back to her squeaky chair.

“Do you know the dewey decimal system, Detective?”

“Of course, just…follow me,” Tim looked up and down the several aisles before taking off, tugging you behind him.

Your hand clasped his as the two of you walked past rows and rows of bookcases. His grip on you was tight, just as yours was tight to his. Nothing in this case was what he was used to. The blackholes were obviously an issue he couldn’t wrap his head around. The writings and sketches of the missing family just didn’t make sense. And now here the two of you were, holding hands, murmuring reassurances to each other. In no other case had Tim become so close to his clients like this. He had never been so invested in an individual before. But here you were, willingly following him. Even pleading with him to be careful, to not leave you. 

He didn’t want to leave you. That’s why his grip on you was so firm. His mind spiraled on what would happen if another hole appeared while the two of you were in the library, what if you were in another aisle looking at books and a hole appeared, sucking you away. What if you were just a step away from him? Tim shook the thought of his own feet sliding against the tile floor of your sister’s laundry room away from his head. He drew your hand to his chest as he finally found the right aisle.

“This way,” he murmured with a reassuring glance back to you. Your eyes looked a bit clearer now, more than when you two were out on the porch. But there was still some lost wandering going on in your eyes. Tim regretted his lack of a better lead to follow, that would have surely helped reassure you that he knew what to do, even though that was far from the truth with this present case. Tim’s free hand traced over the worn titles of books till he found the one he wanted, “The Book of Fixed Stars by one Abd al-Rahman al-Sufi.”

Tim pulled the dark turquoise book from the shelf. the spine was cracked and the pages yellowed. The detective glanced up and down the aisle before nodding for you to walk with him further into the rows of books, still clutching your hand. Soon he found a small corner of the library where a small desk sat under the glare of a larch arching window. The two of you sat down next to each other. You clicked the desk light on as Tim brought out a small notebook filled with notes. He quickly leafed to a new page while your curiosity guided you to the book. Upon opening the cover you found images of constellations and sketches of figures drawn with the star constellation, accompanied by a small passage of text. 

“Says here that this is a translated copy of the book. The original was written by Iranian astronomer al-Sufi,who wrote the original in 964 AD,” you recounted the text to Tim, who wrote down quick notes. You flipped through the book to find more plotted dots of constellations paired with sketches of animals and people. “All the fixed stars have recorded observations of their positions, magnitude, and color,” you said as you flipped to a chart of constellations. 

“Magnitude?”

“Brightness,” you murmured to Tim.

Tim nodded and looked back at his old notes on the star map your sister and brother-in-law made, “There has to be something that they were looking for specifically, something interesting or different from the other stars maybe?.”

You hummed as you started to look down the catalog of stars, “He mentions a ‘little cloud’ here. There’s also a mention of a nebulous star and object. Do those ring any bells?”  You looked over at Tim for any clarity.

Tim thought of course they didn’t, but huffed out, “Let’s take a look at the cloud first.”

Shuffling the pages to where a description of the ‘little cloud’ lay, you related your finding to Tim, “The note from modern astronomers says that this is the first noted sighting of the Andromeda Galaxy.”

Tim hummed and nodded the name down.

You went quiet then as your eyes trained on the delicate hand writing of your own sister. Tim saw the glass overed look in your eyes and leaned over your shoulder to look. Neatly, in beautiful cursive were the words: Our Dark Star? Is this what took them? Were we wrong?

“Do you know what a dark star is?” you asked timidly.

“No, but we just so happen to be in a place that could give us that answer.” Tim jumped from his seat and walked a few steps before quickly returning, “No separating, right?” He smiled at you with a quick double lift of his eyebrows.

Easily, you smiled back at him, grabbing his hand and the book. The two of you took off in the direction of the library card catalog. Tim maneuvered through the drawers of cards finding one pertaining to the subject of space, swiftly he found a particular book about many different natural occurrences and cosmic phenomenons. Tim looked over the call number on the card, he then started to look up another card from the catalog. After a few minutes of shuffling through the cards, Tim let out a soft, “Found it,” before grabbing the card out of the drawer. Swiftly, he led you to the exact point where the book was shelved. 

“Here you are,” Tim whispered to the book. He winked at you then, “Back to work.”

This time you led the two of you back to the desk, holding tight to Tim’s hand. You scanned through the contents of the book quickly finding a section about dark stars.

“Here we are,” you glanced at Tim, seeing him pull out his notebook again. “Dark stars are large masses that can escape velocity that can exceed the speed of light, theoretically any light near the surface of a dark star would trap the light away in its gravity.”

Tim clicked the cap of his pen, “Meaning it devours anything near it.”

You looked up from the book at Tim then, halting your breath before speaking. Tim was practically leaning over you, his face a mere inch from yours as he studied the passage you had just read. The curve of his nose was just in reach of a caress from your own nose. Even the deep amber of his eyes were close enough for you to study and adore. A scraping of a chair somewhere else in the library brought your attention back to the case. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Sounds like it, there’s more here. But the jargon is getting out of my depth of common knowledge on space, to be honest.”

Tim chuckled, “Same, but maybe it’s time to find a particular specialist on the subject. But before we head out, I’ve got one more thing to look up.” Tim held up a card inscribed with the words Cape Canaveral Astronomical Planetarium and Observatory. 

“C.C.A.P.O!” you gasped at Tim. “That’s what was on the telescope!”

The detective nodded and led you over to a section of the library that held a phone book, “Do you know anything about the planetarium and observatory? Maybe if your family worked there or had any special reasoning for being there?”

“Nope, I mean they would obviously go because they’re total space nuts. Maybe even take the kids to view the planetarium. But there are plenty of places in the Cape to view and learn about space, so I don’t know why specifically this place caught their attention,” you stated, steading to Tim as you both leaned over a stand desk that held the phone book. 

Tim promptly flipped through the pages, “I’m sure once we get to the site, we’ll be able to find someone who might give us a better understanding of your sister’s and brother-in-law's thoughts. Here we go, an address.” Tim wrote the address down, circling the numbers in his notebook. He looked back at you then and pointed to the books in your hand, “We’ll check those books out too, there has to be someone at the observatory that can explain this better to us.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Detective,” your face bloomed into a radiant smile for Tim, which in turn made him smile back. You both were quiet for a few seconds, basking in each other's glow before Tim spoke up.

“I like seeing you like this,” Tim softly murmured to you. He was delicate with his words while his hand that still held yours, spiraled small circles on your wrist.

“I like being like this,”  you whispered back to him.

“You know maybe, if you're agreeable to it, maybe you would be up for working on other cases together? This has actually been really nice that I got to partner up with someone for change. Normally I’m on my own, it’s been nice to be able to talk ideas out, to depend on someone else, even just to be able to feel lost and confused with another soul,” Tim’s eyes roved over your face, taking you all in, as he spoke.

“Are you giving me a promotion, Detective?” you stepped closer to Tim.

“I guess I am. Assistant to partner? How does that sound,” his voice lowered as he also took a step closer to you. 

Now with Tim’s nose just grazing your own, you breathed out a silent, “Sounds perfect,” before Tim cupped the back of your head and crashed his lips to yours.

Quietly between sucked breaths and moans, you and Tim held and felt each other in the back corner of the old library. His lips closed over yours, taking in the soft moan that escaped your lips and to his. Tim’s long nose pushed into your cheek as his hungry lips moved against your impatient ones. His hands found your hips, gently pushing you back against a bookcase with a thud. In between kisses, you stifled a laugh as Tim let out a quick ‘shh’ before crashing his lips back to you just so his tongue glided across your lips. 

Tim hadn’t been in a relationship for quite some time, his chaotic schedule giving him zero time to form relationships. But the past few hours with you were so different, for many obvious reasons, but for one very burning yet covert reason. There was such a loneliness in you that he knew well himself, such a loneliness that was so familiar. He hated that feeling and he was glad, damn glad to get rid of it recently. Tim considered himself a good detective, but he didn’t have a clue that this would be happening, making out with a client…well partner? But honestly, Tim didn’t care. 

You felt so perfect to him, so right. When you held him back at your sister’s house, when you slept on his couch, even when you read the books to him as he wrote down notes. You should be home, be waiting by a phone, or talking to other members of your family; not clawing at his hair roots. But Tim never bothered to push you away throughout this whole case, he felt that attraction the moment he answered your call. Even now, with his lips glued to yours, there was such a pull beyond physical between the two of you; Tim wanted to explore it more.

Opening up to Tim was easy, while his hands roamed your hips, your hands snaked their way to his hair, taking hold of the small curls and waves. Even while Tim’s tongue explored your mouth, your own leg crept up to his hip, hitching the detective to you. All sense of depression, loneliness, desperation was gone while you were tucked away in Tim’s arms. A voice bounced around your head; this is it, this is where you should be, where you should stay. Maybe you won’t find your family, but you’ve found something else, someone you can’t part from. Your hips bucked up to Tim's thick thigh with the vibrating thoughts roaming your mind. A husky and guttural moan echoed through the library, out of Tim’s mouth and to your core. 

“We’re supposed to be quiet while in the library Tim,” the words escaped you in between kisses.

Tim’s hot breath caressed your neck as his lips traveled down your neck, his beard scraping your skin and sending shivers through you.

“Like that old librarian could hear us,” Tim mumbled into your skin. 

Your fingers tailed down from his hair to his neck then to his broad shoulders that you had been ogling since he first walked into your sister’s house. His shoulders felt strong and solid under your constant squeezing rubbing. One of Tim’s hands flew up to the bookcase behind you, causing a thud of what you presumed to be a book falling to the floor. You giggled into Tim’s ears and quieted yourself again.

“Now look who’s getting loud,” Tim kissed your ear.

“Can’t help it,” you turned to Tim as another thud echoed through the library. “Maybe I’m just getting a little lost in you.”

Tim’s arms snaked around your waist, hauling you to his chest, “I can understand that.”

He nipped and sucked at your chin, completely distracted with your taste that he didn’t register your hand sneaking down his chest, grazing against his shoulder holster, and tapping on his belt buckle, all to settle and cup his growing bulge.

“Holy God,” Tim growled out into your neck as he pushed his bulge into your hand. His hands tightened around you while you continued to rub him through his pants. “Honey, if you continue we’re both going to get kicked out for—” Tim stifled another growl into your neck before continuing, “indecent exposure.”

“No shame in that,” you nuzzled yourself closer to Tim, delighted in the idea of getting such a professional detective in a little bit of good trouble.

He ducked his head again to yours, rubbing his nose to you. With your heavy breaths blending together, Tim rutted into your hand and leaned in close again to your lips when suddenly a piercing scream rang through the library. 

You both clutched at each other and looked back down the rows of books. Tim spun you to him, and took the both of you a step back from the screaming. You dug your nails into Tim’s bicep looking around the high shelves of books. Several thuds and crashing rattled through aisle after aisle.

“Tim, we need to leave. We’ve been here too long,” you pleaded as Tim stood still.

The detective’s hand squeezed yours as he watched out for whatever was happening in the distance.

“Tim! Listen to me! Let's go!” you grabbed his chin and rotated his face to look at you. “Now. Please.”

Tim stared down at you as more crashing rang through the air, “It’s coming from the front desk,” he stated to you. “We’ll have to go past it.”

“Shit,” you cursed. “The librarian.”

“Come on,” he ordered. “Together.”

Tim grabbed your hand, holding it to his chest. He walked steadily through the rows of books, noting the scream you both heard earlier had ceased while the crashing of books and other objects could still be heard.

As you and Tim rounded the corner out of the book shelves, you both saw the whirling of papers circling the air inside the break room that the librarian had entered earlier. Giving a wide circle around the front desk to try and view what was happening inside the break room, you both abruptly stopped your pace as the door of the room slammed shut. Frozen in your tracks, the sound of a shelf crashing could be heard before there was a sudden silence. Tim looked back at you with an obvious question hanging in the air.

“If we go ahead and open the door, then just make sure to jump back before the door completely swings open,” you told Tim.

He nodded in agreement, “Don’t let go.” Tim patted your held hand to his chest.

You both took a breath and walked to the break room door. Tim extended his arm out, keeping his other arm close to you while your free arm snaked around his bicep. You planted your feet firmly to the floor, glancing quickly to the large front desk that was just within arms reach for you. Finally Tim turned the knob and pushed the door open before jumping back into your chest as fast as he could. The door opened yet stopped quickly with a thud, only opening a few inches before being stopped by something in its way,

“Something’s blocking it.”

“Fuck,” Tim cursed under his breath. He glanced through the crack of the door, seeing a familiar mess. “Ok I’m going to shove it open, you stay right there.”

Tim reluctantly let go of your hand and placed his weight into the door, pushing it more and more. You could hear the sound of wood breaking and rubbing against the wood floor as Tim steadily opened the door. Now on the threshold, Tim looked over the ruined room. Books were missing from the shelf that had once been firmly set to the wall. Parts of a microwave and small fridge were broken across the floor. Drawers and cabinets that were once probably storing office supplies were broken open. Even the wheels of a missing chair were left on the floor.

You appeared next to Tim then, taking in the room as well seeing a distinct trail of debris led to a broken television. But what caught your eye, as well as Tim’s, was the pair of pearl stringed glasses, bloodied and caught on the knobs of the television.

Echoes through the Lens

“So how do we frame the question: Can dark stars or other cosmic variables randomly form inside of televisions and radio, creating a unstable and unstoppable suction—”

“That devours whole pieces of furniture and even people,” Tim deadpanned your final thought.

“Yeah that,” you solemnly replied back to him.

The ride to the planetarium and observatory started out quiet except for the rain that consistently splashed against the windshield, just to be scattered away by the windshield wipers. But the dark drive, and even the rain couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

“How are we supposed to ask that question without literally asking the question?”

Tim adjusted his glasses, “We’ll lead the specialist to ask the question. Make them jump to conclusions.”

You stared at Tim, “Is that what you did to me?”

“No… you were the victim or at least the family of the victims. And then my assistant and now my partner,” he smiled as he said the last part, “I didn’t lead you to any conclusion, if anything you led me.”

Tim slid his hand from the steering wheel to your hand, softly holding and entwining your fingers. Your eyes watched him thoughtful. You should be guilty. The more you two investigated, the more it looked like your family was gone forever; you should feel the pressing weight of shock and numbness. There should be bile rising in your throat. Or at least depression clouding your eyes. 

The guilt and everything associated was there, you weren’t naïve to think you were immune to it all, but you knew it was still there within you. Maybe in the depths of your gut or the back of your mind, but either way it was buried…buried under the weight of Tim’s hand in yours. Forgetting about the bloody glass of the missing librarian or the scattered mind of your sister and her husband, not to mention the empty spaces where your niece and nephew used to play. You were happy, for once in a long time of job searching, house searching, soul searching; you now felt found. Or at the least you felt known, seen.

It was all horrifying and perverse, you were well aware of yourself. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t want to stop this bloom of adoration and exhilaration. The graze of Tim’s beard against your own face felt too good to deny. And upon watching Tim, a man that had probably seen many gruesome scenes in his line of work, he seemed content, if not of a certain desire to have you in his space and within his amicable thoughts. 

“Gateway to the Cosmos,” Tim echoed the greeting sign for the Cape Canaveral Astronomical Planetarium and Observatory. “Think that’s true?”

“Not to be too disturbing, but I think we’ve already seen many gateways to the cosmos today,” you side eyed Tim.

“Perhaps that’s true, but at this point, what’s one more?” Tim planted a kiss on your hand and jumped out of the car. He quickly rounded the vehicle and opened your door, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. “Shall we, partner?” 

The building as a whole was made up of one large central building with two wings reaching in different directions. Three large domes enclosed the main building and the two ends of the wings. The large dome in the middle of the building held the museum, while one dome was encased in many large panels of metals and glass while the other dome had a large opening split down its middle where a large telescope spied out.

From the looks of it, there had obviously been a crowd at the building, probably a small watch party for the Apollo 12 launch. Leftover tables and chairs were placed all over the lobby of the museum. You and Tim snuck past the cleanup crew and walked down the marble halls to the planetarium.

“Are we going to take in a show at the sky theater?” you laughed.

“We could. I just wanted to see if anyone is still here. They may have left for home already,” Tim said as he opened the door to the large dome theater.

Several rows of chairs circled a large project in the middle of the room. All the seats were empty, but the dome of the ceiling was still lit and showed a swirling of constellations and nebulae. You slowly walked to the center of the theater as Tim took a look around the place. The theater was simple, no other rooms were found but Tim did find a panel of light switches. Unable to help himself, he looked on to you as he flipped the lights off one by one. Darkness didn’t over take the room though, instead the heaven bodies engulfed the room. Tim watched your head tilt back and gaze wide eyed at the 360 degree view of the cosmos above you. Light blue stars embedded in the dark blue space shown down to you, just as a nebula of scattered swimming turquoise blues, cool olive greens, warm burning oranges and yellows, and finally electric blood reds reflected down on her shining face. 

You were too busy taking in the show above you to notice the detective take you in. Tim watched your lovely face. You were clearly enraptured by the show before you, but you held Tim’s undivided attention. He was glad that you were getting a little respite from the horror of the case. You had been so focused at the library, then so silent afterwards. When Tim saw the planetarium was still open, he had hoped that the two of you could pop in for a show. You obviously were interested in space like your sister, but no one could deny the beauty of the universe, Tim was certainly not going to deny you.

He slowly approached you from behind, lightly placing his hands on your hip. You leaned back onto him, releasing a sigh.

“Ruth used to beg me to go to the sky theater whenever I came into town. She would always poke and prod at me to join her in relaxing under the stars. I never bothered to go,” you smiled up at the theater.

“What did you do instead?” Tim breathed into your ear.

“I went to the beach. What else are you supposed to do when you're in Florida?”

Tim’s hands encircled your waist. He leaned down and settled his chin on your shoulder, pulling you close to him, “The beach isn’t bad, I haven’t gone in years, or at least for leisure purposes. I’ve been for work, which is never a good thing.”

“Have you been to a planetarium before?”

“Never. First time for me.”

“Same.” You went quiet then. Taking in the sky above. “I should have gone.”

Tim ran his nose up your neck then, landing his cheek on yours, letting you continue.

“I should have gone with her, she loved it all. I can understand why now.”

“Honey,” Tim softly spoke to you.

You shook your head though before he could continue, “No. I should have been around more, I could have helped out more with the kids or maybe with chores around the house. I could have just gone to the damn planetarium with her at least once.”

Tim straightened out and turned you around then.

“You know what I should have done?” Tim’s voice made you pause. His tone was rough and bitter almost. “I should have been able to pull us away from the radio back at the house. I should have warned that librarian about the holes appearing. I should have found better clues or a better lead then wandering around a planetarium for who knows what.” His voice raised as he carried on. “Hell, maybe I should go and call in a different detective to take on the case.”

“No Tim, no. You’ve been nothing short of perfect. You're the only one that could have gotten us this far, you're the only one that has put any effort in this case at all.”

“Was I able to get us away from the black hole in the radio?”

“No, but—”

“I should have. You're my top priority. Nothing comes before your safety and yet you were the one holding me from being crushed and sucked away to who knows where.”

“You could have…” you were lost for words.

“Done absolute shit.” Tim lifted your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I could have fucked myself up or worse, you…” Tim paused. “Do you think it matters now?”

“No, it's useless to think like that.”

“Agreed, and it’s useless for you to think like that as well.”

“You don’t even think back on your mistakes and wish you had done something differently, wished you had seen something differently?”

“Sure, a lot of the time I do when reviewing cases, but it does shit all. Thinking that way has never made a difference and I don't think it will now either.” Tim touched your cheek then and rubbed his thumb against your skin, “It never did any good for my ugly mug, it won't do any good for your beautiful face.”

You giggled and tucked your face into his chest, “You don’t have an ugly mug.”

“What was that, honey?”

You pushed off of his chest then, and looked up into his eyes, “I said you aren’t ugly.”

“That so?” Tim’s voice lowered as a smug look appeared on his face.

“Yeah, you’re rather handsome in fact.”

Tim watched the nebulae and stars reflect on your face. He lowered his head down, touching his nose to yours, letting the constellations connect over your bodies just as your lips touch. Your hands around Tim's shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist and tangled in your hair. His tongue glided in and out of your mouth, lovingly tangling with yours. You moaned when you felt the heat of his breath hot against you. Tim couldn’t stop himself, he felt such a strong pull from you, a strong desire to have you here and now.

“Lean back on the seat, honey,” Tim rasped into your mouth before pulling your mouth to his again. You slowly slid back into the reclining chair as Tim’s tongue grazed against your lips. Gladly opening up for him, you felt the coarse hair of his mustache and beard prick against your skin and lips. Tim slowly melted down over you, settling his knee between your legs, close to the heat that was quickly building in your core. 

His hands skimmed under the hem of your shirt, slowly working further and further up, cupping your breasts. A gasp rattled through your body, arching you closer to Tim. He moaned into you then, pushed you further into the seat. Tim knew there was potential of the two of you getting caught, he knew there was potential of his career being damaged from getting so entangled with a family member of the victim, but he knew there was no one he could stop himself from having you. The hitch of your leg over his, clued him in that you wanted this to continue. 

Tim broke the kiss off suddenly, pushing his upper body off of you and looking down at your lust filled eyes. They were hazy yet full intent on nothing but Tim. He loved the way you looked; you looked so different from a minute ago, teetering on the edge of bliss as the reflection of stardust and cosmic winds danced on your face. Tim wanted so badly to keep you in that blissed out state for as long as he could. 

“Tell me you want this, baby” Tim pushed his knee further up between your legs, enjoying the shiver that wrecked through you.

“Fuck yes,” you barely breathed out.

“Quiet, I don’t want anyone to disturb us,” Tim rasped out as he slowly sank to his knees. He undid your pants and slowly pulled them down, showing off your underwear to the stars above. The detective didn’t waste any time as he kissed and nipped at your belly then your plush thighs. He loved the squirm you let out as he licked up your skin and threw your leg over his shoulder. You decisively like the look of your leg draped over his leather shoulder holster. 

“Trading your guns in for a pair of thighs, Detective?” you gaped at Tim.

“Certainly thinking about it. How do I look?” Tim smirked at you as he lowered his head to the dampening cloth covering your folds, planting a kiss and pushing his nose into you. Your toes curled as you tried hard to watch Tim as he continued to kiss you through your drenched underwear.

“Tim…please.”

“Whatever you want, honey.” 

You quivered as the heat of Tim's mouth hit the heat under your panties. Tim’s hands quickly ran up your thighs and hooked your underwear, tugging them to the floor. He didn’t waste a moment as he drove straight for your clit, drawing you between his lips with a devious moan. You wanted to appreciate the new angle of Tim, but couldn’t when you threw your head back, biting your lip red. You knew you needed to stay quiet, so you resorted to just pleading and praising.

“Tim, fuck Tim, that feels…” you sucked your lips in as you muffed your own moan.

Tim furthered the issue for you when he hooked his arm around your thigh, tracing his finger through your folds. He stroked your glistening skin up and down, feeling out every curve and crevasse in your heat till he felt he was satisfied with the feelover. Deciding to investigate a new part of your body, the detective’s finger plunged into your heat, feeling you clutch automatically around him. 

You felt Tim exhale through his nose, the flare of his rough breathing shaking your own breathing as Tim’s finger slowly pushed and stroked your walls. Your nails dug into the leather seat below you with every stroke of Tim’s finger. Soon enough Tim added a second finger, pushing the couple in and out of you while he swirled his tongue around your tight pearl. Tim, the dutiful detective he was, patiently guided you to the stars. He curled his fingers, dragging them in and out of you when he finally found what he’d been looking for. You thrashed suddenly under his constant and relentless maneuvering. 

Tim took that as a cue to change his tactics. You whimpered when he pulled his fingers away and wrapped both arms around your legs, lifting you slightly off the seat. 

“I know baby, I know. Just give me a second. I promise I’ll give you the stars, soon enough,” Tim cooed at you.

His fingers quickly took over what his tongue was so diligently stimulating; his large soaked finger found your needy clit and swiftly rubbed and twirled the pearl. Tim’s tongue plunged into your cunt, lapping up whatever you would give him. He hummed into you, digging his fingers into your thigh, loving the juice of your core and the chanting you were doing in his name. Tim’s eyes opened with the pull of your fingers in his hair and the shake of your body. He watched over the crest of your mound to your beautiful and blissed face. The cosmos painted your body in sweet colors of boysenberry and indigo, swirling over your body as Tim’s finger swirled over and over your clit. 

The wave of bliss rocketed through you suddenly, your eyes shot open to stars above you, dancing through the cries and gasps. Your legs tensed and your back arched as Tim groaned into you. The sweeps of his tongue turned into kisses as he traveled up your body, kissing the valley between our breasts until he kissed your red bitten lips. The weight of his body slowly lowered to you, letting you finally feel the hardened presence in his pants.

“Need some help?” you giggled between kisses. Tugging at the belt of his pants, your hand snaked down his falling trousers to take a hold of his heft. Tim moaned out his pleasure into your lips, happy for the help as his hip bucked up, shifting you higher on the seat.

“Honey, shit, just let me…” Tim huffed out as he balanced himself on one arm and yanked down his clothes. Freeing himself, and allowing you free range to stroke him up and down, Tim lowered his forehead to settle against yours. Slowly with gentle kisses to his cheeks, nose, and lips, you guided Tim to your entrance. Sighs and gasps filled your tiny section of the theater as Tim seated himself further and further into your heat, filling you up with small yet calculated thrusts. 

Your arms encircle the broad shoulders that you had fantasized since you first met the detective, clutching at the leather binding of his gun holster. Tim buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your natural scent that mixed with your lingering perfume. The ringing of the metal seat below the two of you spun out into the theater, entangled with your cries of pleasure. Tim continued on, feeling the pressure building up in you again as he soon found the sweet spot that made your nails dig into his skin and your heat clench around his cock. 

“Please don’t stop, so close Tim.”

“Wouldn’t even think of stopping. Feel too damn good, too damn beautiful, too damn heavenly,” Tim whimpered as his hips continued to hit you in the same blissful spot again.

Another spin of the cosmos above and all around, you both were coming undone. You clenched around Tim again, delighted in the string of curse words that came out of the detective’s mouth as you bit his shoulder in a new wave of euphoria. And not long after your pleasure had cursed through you did Tim find his own, paint the walls of your heat as his hips stuttered to his once rhythmic and precise thrust. Tim collapsed on top of you fully then, but guided you to your sides while slumping down into the seat, too snug together and too tired to care about the turning worlds around you or the tight fit of the chair.

Cherry red and violet purple galaxies painted and smoothed over the sweat that glistened over your skin as well as Tim’s. He held you close, the two of you situated to your sides, melting into the seat, foreheads pressed together, breathing into each other. Your eyes were open, trained but heavy lidded as you looked over the beautiful man before you. His once combed hair was now swept in sweet curls that your fingers begged to play with. You allowed them, tracing the shell of his ear causing his large palm that was splayed over your back to push you further to him, as if you two weren’t already melting together. 

At some point you would have to stand up, continue on with the investigation, but that thought was far from your mind as Tim opened his eyes. After so many conversations, so many worrisome peeks, anxious ridden gazes, this was a look so completely different from the others. 

You were his world, his star, his sun, his moon, and all the cosmos in the universe; all of it and everything beyond.

Tim’s hand grazed up to your head, burying his fingers into your hair. His own lips gravitated towards yours, gently kissing you with small caressing swipes of his tongue. Your sighs rolled out of you, content and without a single beat of ambition. Tim couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else.

But the loud, echoing sound of cracking and breaking glass and metal sobered the bliss out of both of your systems. Tim clutched you and rolled you both to the ground. Just over the edge of his shoulder you could see a steady, large crack quickly forming up the projector.

“I think it’s time to exit the sky theater,” Tim easily echoed a thought that was on the tip of your tongue. 

You both surged up, knocking out any leftover euphoria out, and pulled your clothes together just as another loud break of metal pierced your ears. A swirling wind picked up in the planetarium, familiar yet stronger than the suction you both had felt before. Tim scooped you into his arms and dashed forward to the doors. Leftover decorations flew through the air as the metal folded seats of the theater were flung down, several creaks of old used metal echoed through the theater as the suction coming from the projector hungered for the audience. You and Tim reached the doors in time to see the first chair yanked out of the ground and crash into the projector. You couldn’t see the hole forming inside the machine but knew it was there once another tear of metal bounced through the theater as another seat flew through the air and over the top of the project to where the now darkened lights once shined from. 

“It’s getting worse,” Tim shouted to you over the top of ripped metal.

You looked up to Tim then, feeling the brush of his beard against your ear. His arms wrapped around you, caging you to the door. His curls bounced in the suction of the projector’s black hole. His dark eyes locked on the destruction before the two of you, watching more chairs fly to the center of the theater. You could see the quizzical movement of his eyes, twitching as he studied the carnage. You watch his beauty in work, his detective mind reeling with ideas and questions. 

Several loud howls of metal ripping sounded through the theater again. More chairs were ripped out of the bolts and flung into the projector, all for more ripping and tearing to occur as the seats were sucked and squashed into small pieces into the bottomless hole. Within all of the carnage, and even a rough pull of the doors that the two of you clung to, didn’t pull Tim’s focus away. It wasn’t until your hand gently smoothed over his chin to his cheek, turning him to you.

“Let’s get some damn answers.”

Tim wasn’t certain the doors to the planetarium would hold; he was more certain the roof would be caving in at any moment actually, but that was far from his thoughts as you both walked to the other side of the building, rearranging your clothes from your earlier shuffle and opened the doors labeled “employees only” to the observatory.

The confident stride that you and Tim had only moments ago, quickly faltered when the two of you took in the scene ahead. The giant telescope you both expected to see was completely destroyed. Large lenses, mechanical parts, and mismatched cords and wires lay across several tables around the observatory. All labeled and organized. The telescope itself was open to the world, hollow inside and useless. 

"Someone knew what they were doing," Tim commented as he skimmed over the loose parts.

“It does seem like someone was busy while everyone else was off partying,” you remarked back. Your eyes quickly caught the sight of a still steam cup of coffee placed on a table full of folders and handwritten notes. Skimming the notes, you found the writing barely legible, much of it talking about parts of the telescope, about patterns in the stars, and even more nonsense that you could barely make out. But then there it was… a familiar assortment of loose papers and ripped pages, all stapled together in an overlapping configuration. The drawings, circles, dotted lines were all too familiar to you now.

“Tim! Look!”

He rushed over to you, looking over your shoulder, “It’s the star map.”

“The exact same one that your sister had.” Tim reached over your shoulder and lifted the map to the light. “There’s a few extra bits though, see here,” Tim said as he pointed to scribbles that ran along a large, bold line that stretched across the entire map and ended at a familiar large dark curling and swirling mass. “What do you make of these?”

Your eyes skimmed over the small scribbles taking in the three sets.

“Well that one is definitely a half sun and…,” you pointed at the half circle with squiggles emitting from it. “Is that a skull?” you questioned, drawing your finger over the teeth like a mark that ran under the half sun. Two black marks sat on the lower half of the sun, as if they were eyes.

“Looks like it. The sun is making up the dome of the skull.”

The second mark you studied for a moment.

“That could be a smear for all I can tell,” Tim shook his head.

“No, it looks like a flow, like a river?”

“Or northern light? Can we get the northern lights down here?”

“Tim, I think there’s been a lot of things happening that weren’t possible before. Why wouldn’t the northern light appear over Florida?”

Tim laughed, “Fair point, but what about this last one?” He pointed at a cylinder shape with tapered ends. Inside the sharpe oval like shape were circles on circles seeming to grow large but not constricting out of the shape.

“I have no clue. Do you?”

“No but—”  Tim began.

“You two haven’t seen the bulb of a lighthouse before, have you?” 

Startled by the unknown voice, you both swirled around quickly and took in the sight of a man just entering the room from a side door. His hair was smoothed over his bald patch at the back of his head just as the crumbled tan jacket he wore hid the coffee stain on his green shirt. His large glass kept falling down as he walked up to the two of you, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair of you. His hands rolled up a notebook, one that he quickly tucked into his jacket before he finally came to the table where the map laid.

“You’ve been studying my map,” the man nodded and fidgeted with the paper. “Tell me James,” the man’s eyes landed on Tim, “How does mine compare to yours?”

Tim cleared his throat and glanced at you then back at the man, “Well sir…”

“No need for formalities here, Robert will do just fine as it did in our correspondence. Although I understand it, I was writing to Ruth most of the time.” The man, Robert, gestured towards you.

Understanding Robert’s assumption and misunderstanding now, you lept at the chance.

“Robert, our map is quite close to yours, but there seems to be one glaring difference,” you looked towards Tim.

“Yes, it’s been eating me up inside seeing the mistake I must have made,” Tim turned towards the map then. “This.” Tim pointed to the bold line you two were studying earlier.

Robert smiled a row of yellow teeth then, “The route of ascension. I’ve found the shortcut for you two to take.”

You walked next to Tim then and placed a hand on his back, listening as Robert continued.

“By my calculations the normal route would take a century or two, this should be quite instant.”

“A century?” Tim echoed what you thought.

“Very annoying voyage to go on. I’m glad we found a way to shorten it. We really can’t take too long if we are to get the two of you to Andromeda’s Blind Eye.” Robert went on grabbing a few folders, bumping into the table and spilling the coffee over several of his scattered notes. Cursing under his breath, Robert went on a rant about time being a man made invention as he went on with his business cleaning his mess. Between his chaotic movement and meandering rant, Tim stepped forward picking up a box of tissues for a swift opportunity. 

“Here let me give you a hand,” Tim said as he quickly crashed into Robert’s chest, dropping the tissues to the floor while sneaking his free hand into Robert’s jacket, grabbing hold of the small notebook and stashing it in his back pocket. “My bad, let’s just get this mess cleaned up and be on our way.”

Robert, seeming to be thrown off by Tim’s presence in his space, shook his head quickly, “No time, weren’t you listening? We should just leave now. We need to get going.” Hardily, he pushed his mess away and then snatched the star map. “We need to get going. Time is almost on us.” 

Walking towards an exit, the strange man led you and Tim to the parking lot. Tim’s hand clenched yours tightly.

“Where exactly are we off to Robert?”

The man turned suddenly to Tim, holding the map up to your eyes, “St. Joseph’s Lighthouse.”

“St. Joseph?” you asked

“Joseph Calasanz. Friend of Galileo, you see.” Robert said matter of factly, handing you the star map, “Follow, we’re moving quickly.”

“But what about the telescope?” you asked as you trailed behind.

“What about the telescope?”

“Did you take it apart?” Tim asked while keeping pace between you and Robert.

“Of course, who else would know how to take apart a black hole conductor?”

“Black hole conductor? It’s a telescope.”

“Was. Then it was a conductor.” Robert retorted as he got to his car.

“And now?” you asked breathlessly.

“Now it is what we’ve been corresponding about Ruth. Inert. Comatose. Devoid of significance as it would do to us.” 

“Like what happened in the planetarium,” you breathed out as your shoulders slumped.

“Such as it goes,” Robert opened his door without breaking eye contact, “Now follow, please.” With that he quickly stepped into his car and closed the door.

Tim gave a glance back to the skewd smile of Robert before pushing you into his car. You waited for Tim to enter the car and start the engine before talking.

“Tim?”

He turned the engine on, followed Robert’s car closely, “Whatever happens next, let me make this absolutely clear, you stick by my side. I'll stick to yours.” Tim’s hand reached for yours; you met him with a squeeze. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re in this together.”

You nodded and kissed Tim’s cheek, tightening your grip on his hand. 

“We just found each other, I’m not letting go of you any time soon.”

Black Holes of Light Shows

You viciously flipped through the pages of Robert's notebook, scanning and skimming the lines looking for any clue for his apparent route of ascension. Tim continued to drive, thumbing the steering wheel, keeping pace with Robert’s car ahead of him, but giving you a glance every once in a while. Neither of you were too certain what was happening or going to happen but whatever answers you needed must lay in the tiny rumpled and yellowed notebook.

“And if he notices that his notebook is missing? Then what?”

Tim tightened his hands on the steering wheel, “Well then I push him off the damn lighthouse if he tries anything.”

“And he won’t be mad that we lied to him about our identities?”

“He’ll be pissed, but we’ll remind him that his partners in…space are missing.”

“Then he’ll assume the worst.”

“Assume we made them missing or that something else did?” Tim glanced back at you, studying your face. There had always been a question hanging around in the air about your sister’s family whereabouts from the moment you two had encountered your first black hole back at her house.

“Either way, this isn’t going to end well,” you sighed as you traced a finger down a heavily penned page. Several lines of Robert’s writing started to stand out to you, “Listen to this.”

There are no stars here my friend, there isn’t even light. It was all lies those philosophers told us. They never liked an astronomer, we were the real believers, the real cloud gazers and dreamers. But they lied to our star-crossed faces! And now it is too late, I’ve seen past the clouds. Do you know the clouds of Andromeda yell and scream like the winds from the hurricanes of the Caribbean. Except worse. They want to be heard, so now they stretch their screams to our pockets of life. 

Have you heard their screams? I have one too many times, but I can no longer deny their pull, I need to know why Andromeda threw its tantrum. And my dear friend, I’ve seen it…if only those philosophers could see what I’ve seen, they would roll off their pedestals! Soon they will see and so will you! Just as your children have seen! 

Below Robert’s deranged writing was a scribbled image of what you presumed was what he saw in Andromeda: a pitch black circle with rubbed shading encircling the solid circle. Many lines seemed to swirl around the solid dot, showing the lines ending in the circle. Your fingers traced over the complete black dot, feeling the heavy lines of Robert’s black pen dig into the paper to the point the middle of the circle was torn.

“Do you think he was writing to your sister, seemed like he knew her through letters, maybe this whole notebook was for her to read?” Tim questioned as he turned at the light after Robert.

“Could be. He keeps talking about how the stars aren’t fixed as other astronomers thought, that over time they evolve. But this star hasn’t evolved, it’s different.” Your eyes grew as your fingers scanned and scanned the pages, looking for more answers.

They don’t know what Andromeda holds, but I do and you will soon.

“You’ve said that name a few times now, Andromeda?” Tim looked back at you.

You shook your head, “I’m not entirely sure now. The books from the library called it a galaxy, my sister called it a dark star, but Robert denies both claims. It sounds as though it’s whatever is making these black sucking holes appear all over the place?” your voice shook as you asked the question to Tim but also to yourself.

“Says the scribbles of a madman,” Tim huffed out.

“We’re taking the word of a madman,” You watched the rain sprinkle down on the car in front of you. Night had finally come, lights from the city could be seen from behind you, but in front of you was the darkness of the Atlantic Ocean. You breath stuttered then, “we’re literally following a madman to fucking death right now Tim.”

It was hushed but Tim still heard it. He grabbed hold of your hand, enlacing your fingers with a tight grip, “That isn’t happening. I’ve run into robbers, forgers, smugglers, and even murderers before. It’s part of my job to know how to handle whatever may come our way.”

“How the hell do we handle dark stars or whatever these sucking holes are? This guy isn’t any sort of criminal, Tim. He’s fucked in his head. Look at this drawing? It’s the same as the map.” You pointed to a new page near the back of the notebook, the same scribbles of a setting sun skull, a flow of something unknown, and a lighthouse bulb. “Nothing makes sense other than we’re walking straight into death.”

“It will, it will make sense soon enough,” Tim stopped at the stop light, relieved to have a moment from driving. “Tell me, what is it that we do, what we’ve been doing?”

You shook your head while a tear fell from your face, “Running around or running away like headless chickens.”

“Investigating. Researching. Asking questions and finding answers. That's what we’ve been doing and what we will continue to do once we get to the lighthouse. Robert knows what’s happening, and soon we’ll know as well.” Tim laced his hand into your hair and pulled you head to his lips, kissing your head before pulling away and looking down at your adoring eyes. “I promised we would find out what happened to your sister. We will and we’ll get out of this alive. You understand that?”

You nodded just as Tim kissed your head again and stepped on the gas for the green light.

You watched the amazing man closely as you both sped ahead.

“You think he’ll explain to us his secrets?”

“Everyone has their secrets, it’s only a matter of time before they come out. One way or another, they always do.” Tim’s response was clear and even, something he had said many times before. He rolled his neck and loosened his shoulders.

“Sore?”

“I feel as if I’ve been tense for more than 24 hours now. My back will be killing me tomorrow.”

You closed the notebook and tossed it to the dashboard. Reaching over to Tim, you moved your hand to his neck and began to rub the pads of your fingers in circles on his neck. Tim huffed and you watched a small smirk play on his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Tim quickly glanced at you then back to the road, “You're the one rubbing my neck, I should be thanking you.”

“Thank you for being here…with me. No matter what happens, thank you for trying.”

“That’s not needed,” Tim’s voice graveled out.

“Yes it is. This case could have been passed over again, but you took it. You could have thrown it out after what happened at my sister’s house or at the library, but instead you just took me in. You gave me your jacket, let me sleep on your couch, let me tag along for this whole case. You didn’t need to do any of that.”

“You had every right to be working this case, and there was no way I was going to let you out of my sight.”

“I’m glad for it, Tim,” you whispered as you leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad to have met you, to have been with you.”

“I am as well,” Tim said as he parked the car on the side of the lighthouse. He turned the engine off and turned towards you. “None of this would be possible without you, I would have been sucked down a hole in a laundry room without you, or hit on the head by a book from a librarian,” Tim smiled as he held your face.

“That librarian did not like you.” 

“See, we protect each other.”

A smile cracked your once teary face. Tim pulled you to him again, landing his lips to yours. He sucked the breath out of you as his hands cradled your face. Firmly, Tim held you to him till you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. You held each other a moment, hearing the rush of waves against the beach. Finally Tim spoke up.

“Let’s get some answers out of this apparent astronomer.” 

You followed him out of the car and watched as he tossed his jacket into the seat and rolled up his sleeves. Walking steadily together, Tim took your hand in his.

Robert was already ahead of the two of you at the base of the lighthouse. Even in the cover of night, the old historic St. Joseph’s lighthouse loomed over the somber ocean. No light roamed over the ocean here, you didn’t even know if there was even a bulb at the top. The lighthouse itself was built from weathered, red brick. Majority of the red was gone now, covered in salt from the sea and dyed from the sun. You didn’t know how long St. Joseph’s lighthouse was in use or when it opened but it obviously wasn’t in use today. 

The question of if the lighthouse was operable was on your tongue, but before you good voice your question Robert interjected.

“Did you see the rocket launch? I had a tremendous view right here at the top of the lighthouse,” Robert said as his hair picked up in the wind.

You nodded, “We saw it from our house.”

“Always exciting, isn’t it?” Robert laughed and smiled to himself, “Just knowing the grand step in history humankind is making. Some people only dream of these things coming true.”

“Like philosophers?” Tim questioned.

Robert’s eyes opened wide, “How like minded are we my friend! Those philosophers could never take the steps we take.”

“Steps to Andromeda, right Robert?” you questioned.

Robert held his hands up as you and Tim came to a stop, “They don’t know her like we know her.” Robert laughed then, “By the heavens, we hardly even know her.”

“But we will soon?”

“Exactly Ruth! Tonight is the night we three have been preparing for.”

“What exactly are we waiting for though Robert?” Tim called out as the whirl of wind picked up.

“I know your impatient James, but the route to ascension has to be perfect. Now I’ve checked our calculations and observations and they all run true! It won't be long before we reach behind Andromeda’s ghastly veil..” Robert looked behind him then to something you and Tim could not see yourselves.

“Robert, listen, we’ve read your research, we’ve seen your drawings—” Tim called out.

“Good! I knew you would enjoy my research, there’s so much data I would love to pour over with you, but another time James.” Robert called over a loud scratch of metal.

“The hell is going on back there?” Tim took a step forward.

“The time has come my friends,” Robert spoke as he clutched the metal railing in front of him while glancing behind his shoulder.

“Robert, listen we need to have a serious talk about what is going on,” Tim took another step forward.

“Please, Robert, what is this? What have you drawn?” you step in front of Tim then, holding up Robert’s journal with the drawing of the completely black and ripped circle.

Robert stared at his own drawing before closing his eyes and chanting:

       “But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant’s fate;

        Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;

        I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.”

“Well at least he’s a sentimental madman,” Tim whispered to you before you elbowed him.

Another gust of wind snuck up to Robert then, making you realize that the wind of the ocean was blowing a different way than the wind near Robert. “Tim…I think…”

“You seem like a decent fellow that could hold his own in a fight.” Robert looked to Tim.

“I can and have,” Tim replied with his hand lingering on his hip.

“Good.” Then Robert looked over at you, “Ruth, you aren’t going to be thrilled with what I’m about to do. But this is the way it goes for me. We’ll see each other soon enough, but before I go I would like you to know that your correspondence has meant the universe to me. To meet another brilliant minded individual like myself made this corner of the universe bearable for a change.” Robert placed his hand on his heart and nodded to you before turning back to Tim.

“James, I’m sure it would have been a thrill to get to know you as well. You and your wife are extraordinary people, and the universe agrees with me. While humankind takes a step,” Robert glanced up to the stars, “You’ll be making a leap. Just remember to hold on to each other tightly when it comes time for that leap.” 

“And where are you leaping off to?” Tim shouted as Robert stepped towards the door in a rush.

“To the black hole,” Robert laughed out as he pointed to the drawing still in your hand. With that Robert slammed the door shut behind him with a loud thud of a lock.

Tim rushed the solid door, slamming his shoulder into the wood. The detective could hear the sound bending metal and the increase of a whirling wind. Over and over again Tim slammed his shoulder against the door, fully aware of what he should expect on the other side. Yet Tim continued on banging his hand on the old door, rattling the handle until his eyes locked on the rusting metal keyhole on the door. 

“Stand behind me,” Tim called out to you as he pulled out his gun, aiming it at the lock and pulling the trigger. A loud clang pierced the air, while a large bullet hole smoked out of the rusted lock. Tim made another attempt at slamming his shoulder to the door, noticing there was more give as he could hear the sound of wood splintering. Tim then suddenly stopped. 

“Shit.”

You rushed to face him, looking between him and the door, “What? What’s wrong?”

“There must be a wooded barrier on the other side, and I can hear it clearly breaking.”

Between the panic of Tim trying to break the door and shooting the lock, you hadn’t noticed the whirling of air and breaking of metal ending from inside the lighthouse.

You shook your head to the thought of what Robert had done, “Together, let’s open it together.” 

Tim searched your eyes quickly for any signs of panic but found you were uncertain about this whole thing as he was. Together you both lined your shoulders up to the door and slammed into it, sending splinters of wood scattered around the nearly empty lower room of the lighthouse. The only thing left for you and Tim was the abandoned and broken radio laying on the floor with a small spiral of smoke leaving it.

“Scratch marks on the floor, there must have been a desk and chair here, maybe a bookcase,” Tim theorized in a hushed tone. 

You both entered the small, circular room; taking in the empty quiet of the brick walls.

“Now what? Anything here has been swept away,” Tim said as he crouched down to inspect the radio. “Nothing special about this radio, just another piece of junk. What was he thinking? Does he assume that those holes take them to some other place entirely?” Tim turned and looked at you clutching and running your fingers in circles over the black drawing.

“To the black hole,” you mumbled to mostly to yourself but loud enough for Tim to hear. 

“Honey?”

“To the black hole,” your eyes opened wider as you looked up from the drawing and towards the spiraling stairwell. Quickly you launched up the stairs with Tim calling after you. His long legs quickly carried him to catch up with you, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“Hey, hey, now. What is going on?” Tim’s brow furrowed as he looked between your eyes in search of the madness that Robert had in his own eyes.

“The map! Robert’s map showed us what to do next. Don’t you see?” you said excitedly. Pulling out the map that Robert had tucked in his journal. “Here, these three drawings we couldn’t figure out.”

Tim looked down at the drawings you pointed to, “Yes?”

“Look at the first one.”

“The skull in the setting sun?”

“Yes, maybe that skull is for Robert. Maybe it’s a…” you paused to think over your words, “Maybe it means sacrifice. Maybe when the sun has set, the first step is a sacrifice.”

“First step to the route of ascension?”

“Yeah. Ascension to the black hole of Andromeda.”

Tim went quiet, stroking your arm in his hand.

“I know it isn’t pretty, but this is making sense to me now. We have to keep going,”  you pleaded as you looked into Tim’s concerned eyes. He sighed and looked back down the stairs to the broken radio, then back at you.

“What’s the next step?” Tim’s voice was low and rumbled out to you.

Relieved, you looked back at the map.

“This flowing pattern. Maybe it’s the tide? Or maybe the Northern Lights? Either way we need to go up to the top.” you turned away from him then, heading up the stairs.

“To get a better view.” Tim lightly patted your butt as he followed

You both climbed the spiral staircase up to the top room of the old brick lighthouse. A short ladder and hatch led up to the final platform where the bulb was located. Tim climbed first, busting the latch open with a thud and helping you up to the platform. In the middle of the platform was a giant light bulb for the lighthouse. You both walked around the bulb, running your fingers over the wave emitting pattern of the several panels of the bulb. Tiny rainbows colored the glass panels of it; you couldn’t help but smile at how similar the bulb was to Robert’s sketch. But that wasn’t the only thing to catch your eye. The view from the lighthouse was spectacular, even under the gloom of the night. There were silver lit stars sprinkling the sky above a salty ocean breeze rolling onto the beach and wrapping around the lighthouse. Your mind reeled back to the beauty of the planetarium earlier, where the universe danced above you, only it seemed as if the universe was watching you now. Before and under you though, was an equally perplexing site. The deep sky embraced the sea for miles and miles from your viewpoint. There was no line of absolute, no end nor beginning, all of it sank and ebbed together. Tim snaked an arm around your hip, anchoring the two of you to the railing as you both looked out at the kingdom before you.

“Not too bad,” Tim whispered into your ear.

You laughed and leaned into him, “Not bad at all.” You looked up at Tim then, catching his eye as he turned down to you. Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Neither of you leaned in, but instead opted to stare into each others eyes, taking the other in as much as possible before…

“What the hell is that?” Tim questioned as he lifted his head from yours suddenly.

You looked to where he was looking but saw nothing.

“What did you see?”

“It was a light? A glow?” Tim leaned harder into you and the railing. “Just watch, give it a second.”

Quietly you both watched the waves crash in, the wind blow the palm trees, and the clouds move with the wind. And then there it was. A sparkle, then two, and then four. Soon more and more began to shift and illuminate in the sea and sky. You held your breath and clutched Tim’s hand.

“Is it in the sea or the sky?”

“I…I can’t tell.”

Through the sky and maybe reflected into the sea, or maybe from the depths of the ocean to illuminate the sky, or perhaps equally from the abysses of the horizons; you watched as a stream of sparkling cyan blue lights flashed from beyond your eyes to the lighthouse. You could see the direct path they made to you as the lights swayed with the wind and rolled with the waves, sparkling in the direct line and not filling the entirety of the sky.

Entranced by the show before you, neither you or Tim saw the shift in the bulb of the lighthouse. It was the change in wind that alerted you to turn around. Slow, still in Tim’s arms, you turned to the once clear lighthouse bulb. Inside the panels of glass was a circulating black hole. You dropped Roberts journal to grab hold of Tim in a firm grip.

“This isn’t like the others,” Tim proclaimed as his own hand grabbed your waist. 

“No, but what now, is it trapped in there?” your voice quivered.

Neither of you moved or spoke. Instead you both stared at the swirling black hole capsuled in the lighthouse bulb. The wind that turned about the platform was soft and gentle, swirling round and round.

“It feels different, Tim,” you looked up at him expectantly.

His observant eyes looked over the circumstance before you. 

“It’s not sucking us in. It’s as if it’s just waiting for us.” Tim looked down at you to confirm his thoughts, which you heartily agreed.

“The wind, the air, I feel almost lighter right now.”

“Like floating?”

“Yeah, like floating, Tim,” you smiled at him then to the black hole.

“Well that's a nice difference for a change.” Tim smiled down at you. 

As if you were walking on your toes and slowly being levitated up, you wandered closer to the bulb. With Tim’s hand in yours, and the swift caress of wind through your hair, you both stood in front of the bulb. Only a step away from the glass panel, you placed your hand to the glass. A blue light flickered and disappeared.

“It needs power.”

You looked over to Tim then. 

“The last step, lit the lighthouse.” Tim continued as he stared into your eyes before looking over to the power box next to the bulb. He walked past you and flipped the box open. A few seconds later, with the flip of a few switches. Tim stopped his motions and looked back up to you.

“Is this what you want?” The sweet concern was etched all over his face. “I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I want you to be safe no matter what.”

You placed both hands on the glass panel, watching the blue lights spiral out of the hole once more. “I feel safe. With you here I feel safe.”

Tim nodded and without looking away from you, flipped the final switch. A loud hum emitted through the lighthouse below you. Tim stood quickly, grabbing the hand you held out to him. Both of you took a step back from the bulb and watched as instead of a yellow light, a blue light slowly emitted from the bulb. It started out small, then slowly started to grow in size with each pass of the circulating bulb. 

“This is crazy, you know that right,” Tim called out as you both watched the bulb turn and turn.

“Which part? The glowing light in the sky and ocean or the tiny black hole in the lighthouse bulb?” you laughed and looked over to Tim who was watching you with a fond smile.

“You're smiling.” 

“I am.”

The blue light of the bulb circled again, growing brighter.

“You know, I've wanted to make you smile since the moment I met you.”

You giggled, “You’ve made me smile many times since then Tim!”

Turning steadily now, the blue light petrified into the darkness of the ocean and sky.

“Just once more. For me.”

“I’ll smile many more times for you.”

Tim pulled you to him then, bringing you in for a passionate kiss. His arms encircled you, bonding the two of you together again as his lips crashed with yours. You leaned into him breathing him in and taking everything you could in that moment. The scent of his breezy cologne, the scratch of his beard, the soft curls of his hair, his protruding nose, his large hands and sturdy shoulders. There was nothing you wanted to miss or let go of in this man. He wasn’t what you were looking for but a beautiful gift you had found. You would keep him close no matter what. 

It took everything out of Tim not to suffocate himself in you, for it was something he would gladly do. Maybe this was the end of the line for you two, maybe this was something new to investigate together. Either way he was letting you go, nothing was tearing him away from you.

Grabbing a breath of air, with your foreheads bound to each other, you both looked from each other and to the lighthouse bulb. The spinning of the bulb was at full speed, cyan blue light sparkling round and round to the horizon. But inside the bulb was different now. The glass paneling was gone, and the small swirling black hole had totally engulfed the lightbulb with the sparkling blue light emitting from the darkness of the hole. Still, the air felt light, the wind was soft, and your lungs and heart were full.

You looked up at Tim then and he at you. A smile played at the corner of his lips, making you break out in a giggle. It was all so beautiful and scary, but just perfectly right. Together, hand in hand you both reach out to the swirling black hole. 

You don’t know if you were sucked into the hole, or if the sparkle of stars overwhelmed your bodies. Maybe the light passed you and Tim one last rotation and blinded you. Maybe the ocean and the sky’s darkness overtook you. Or perhaps you found your family, or found your eureka. But even when a member of the historic society would come by for a check up on the lighthouse, he would find nothing but a broken radio. The only thing you and Tim knew for certain out of all the millions of ripples of stardust of the cosmos, was the warm embrace of each other and the trail of a brave new investigation.

#Pedro Pascal #Tim Rockford #merge mansion #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x female reader