seeing childhood best friend!kyle again, after eight years apart, rocks your world. he’s not the same long-limbed, baby-faced boy you knew, no longer eighteen years old and dreaming of glory. he’s changed. his smile’s not so bright, his voice’s deeper, raspier, even his mannerisms are different. he spends more time watching the door than looking at you, and every loud noise has his fingers twitching around his mug. it makes sense, you imagine. he’s not used to the domesticity of a local pub anymore. this is a man who spends most days in active warzones with a gun to his head. this isn’t the kyle you knew and loved, and it is taking longer than you care to admit to come to terms with that fact.
after your impromptu reunion at john mactavish’s bedside, he asks to meet someplace after your shift, somewhere where you can catch up, where you can reminisce on the good ol’ days and lament all the time you lost. you came, of course, and not just because of soap’s nagging and begging. he might not be the same kyle, but he’s still yours. that much will forever hold true. the world will forget the sweet boy whose heart was too big for his delicate ribcage, but you won’t. you couldn’t.
“i wanted to call, so many times. i just… didn’t want to impose. didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, after so long. still, m’sorry. it never should’ve happened the way it did.”
“you don’t have to apologize, ky. it’s a two-way street—i fell short just as well as you did.”
you spend the night drinking cheap beer, talking about anything and everything, and sometimes nothing.
you tell him about your old classmates, about who’s married, carting around kids, or in jail, and he asks you about your job, why you chose physiotherapy, despite having always claimed you’d be a teacher one day. it was because of him, you admit. you couldn’t bear the thought of him, mangled by war, laid up in bed, being tended to by somebody who didn’t give a damn what became of him. and the way he looks at you then, eyes soft and smile honest, reminds you of your sweet boy.
in turn, he tells you about the 141. about captain price, speaking with such reverence it makes your arms break out in gooseflesh, and then ghost, the one johnny loves, who he says isn’t as awful as he’d like to be, that he’s one the best friends he’s ever had. and he tells you what he can about what happened to soap, how scared he was, how he will never forget what it’s like to hold his brother’s skull together with his bare hands. he thanks you for taking such good care of him, for being so gentle with him.
it’s you who should be thanking johnny, you think. without him, you’d never have found kyle again.
you stay longer than you mean to, trapped in this bubble of your own making, unwilling to let go. that’s always been your downfall. you like to cling to what you love, no matter the consequences. but when you are ushered into the streets by the tired, underpaid bartenders, some time around two in the morning, you’re given no choice but to let go.
“i’m leaving, this weekend,” he admits solemnly. “my team needs me. but i’ll be back, hopefully soon, if you…”
“i’ll be here.” here, right where he left you, where you’ve always been, waiting, yearning, like you always have.
he grins, with all his teeth this time, and hugs you so tight that it feels like he’s trying to wring something out of you, something you are not yet ready to give up. it makes you think of the last time, in the garrick family’s kitchen, crying into his brand new fatigues as he promised to make it back to you.
this time, when he promises to call, he follows through. and when he cannot call, he texts, he sends you pictures of his team in all sorts of compromising positions, shows you what the sunrises are like on the other side of the world, tells you how he’d kill for some fast food, or a half-decent pint.
when you do manage to get him on the phone, the reception’s awful, and you spend half the conversation asking each other to repeat the same thing a dozen times over, but you decide that it’s all worth it to have him back, in any way that you can.
kyle integrates himself back into your life with the ease of somebody whose place in the world is wherever he decides, as if he never left in the first place.
when he comes home, a month after you said goodbye, you’re right there waiting, like you swore you would be.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
warnings: smut with plot, m and f masterbating, use of slut, doll, and bunny, sub(ish) reader, use of vibrator, slowww burn
🎰: 2.8K words
the next few days really dragged on for lando. workouts seemed to last an hour too long, sim races felt like a full blown grand prix. every now and then, a flashback of you would flicker behind his eyelids, and send a jolt through him. your hips, or waist, or the way your thighs would squeeze your pillow when you were close.
initially he had tried to ignore the lingering thoughts you left like love letters in his head. but it became increasingly more obvious to him that wasn't going to be possible. not when he thinks about you any time his dick starts to harden up. not when the frustrations of his job were made easier knowing he might get to see you sunday. not when his mind drifted to you when he laid awake too late at night.
admittedly, he had found his way back to that website, refreshing your page like you might suddenly appear in front of him. your collar bones shown in your profile picture being enough to have lando huffy– almost, missing you. he swallowed whatever hesitation remained in the back of his throat and made his account.
name? that was easy. four. no more no less. completely him, yet entirely too vague to be distinguishable. profile picture? that was harder… surely, he cant show any part of himself, or anything brand associated. but he needed something to make you interested, or at least not scare you away. but what did you like? he scrolled his camera roll, flying past anything that didn't seem cool enough for you. pictures he took of flowers seemed too feminine, but pictures of old cars seemed stupid. he scrolled past one picture that did give him pause. a mirror selfie, fresh out of the shower, the mirror was very fogged. lando was shirtless, you could see that, but any detail that could pin the photo back to him was blurred away in the warm condensation.
would you think it was dumb? or not even ever look at it? he didn't know, but he liked the idea of you being able to see some part of him, while still anonymous, like you. as he selected the photo, a warm sensation swirled around his gut. this was a photo of him. someone could know, or somehow guess, someone might see it and start asking questions. it made him excited nervous. but he knew he was only coming back on this site for you, and for whatever reason, he trusted you.
on sunday morning, lando woke up early, the sun seeming warmer and sky bluer. he tried his best to ignore the twitch he felt in his dick every time he thought about seeing you tonight. he started wondering what ‘night’ meant for you, as it was the only hint he had as to when you would go live. What if your timezones were different or a million other things that could lead to him not seeing you.
the idea of your legs spreading, waiting for someone to maybe watch, for him to watch. or maybe you never really wanted anyone to find you on there, so you would never stream again. he tried to relax, really he did. in cuddly clothes with a movie and snacks, but every now and then his hips would rutt up against nothing, craving that release. the one only you could give him.
as the glow of the monaco sun started to set, he was eager with excitement, each minute it became more ‘night’. it was still about 3 hours until the time you were live on wednesday, but he started his preparations anyway. he showered, scrubbing himself with different soaps and body wash in case somehow, you could smell him. obviously, that was impossible, but the idea of getting himself ready for you made his breath catch in a way he kept chasing. the clothes he picked out were comfortable but intentional. a shirt that hugged his arms well, and red plaid pj pants to match that little skirt you wore for him last time.
not that you would ever know or see any of it, but that didnt matter as much to lando anymore. something about you, despite knowing nothing, spoke to his core so deeply. deeper than the warmth you sent to is cock, no this was somewhere closer to his heart.
he sat his laptop down on his lap as he sank himself into the couch. the embarrassment of the screen already being on your page was quickly fading as he saw LIVE below your username. he clicked in faster than he could think, finger jumping with reaction time his coach would dream of. when your cam came up fullscreen, he clicked off as fast as he could while his thoughts caught back up to him.
maybe you had just went live, maybe it would be weird if he was already joining. maybe him being there early would get boring and you wouldnt be as excited by the thought of being watched. questions and doubts bounced around his head, while he watched you through the thumbnail of your live. it was blurry and the framerate was bad, but you looked divine. the camera was closer to you now, mainly just showing the bed now, and all of you. you sat with your back against the pillows lining your head board. knees still shut together tight like you were shy. he could see more of your hair that fell down your shoulders into frame. still, your face was comfortably out of the shot, which he didnt seem to mind.
that was about all he could take before he was clicking back in to watch you full screen. your bed spread was pink with white polka dots, made up with decorative pillows. had you made it for the stream, or was it just a habit of yours to make it each morning, he wondered. you wore a flowy red lingerie top that laid gently against you, the only non-sheer part being the bralette that covered your breasts. your shins blocked whatever hid near the sweet spot he wanted to see so badly. knees pulled to your chest, not letting him see you yet.
his eyes glanced down to your title, only after willing them off your body.
I MISSED YOU
it read. his stomach churned and cheeks flushed. it wasnt possible it was in reference to him, he knew that, right? he figured it was just in reference to the streaming yourself in general, smiling lightly at you enjoying this exposure so much. he knew you hadn’t thought about that one viewer and that one chat message since wednesday, unless of course, you had. lando decided it wasnt bad to let his imagination toy with the idea.
your soft hand raised subtly again, slow and barely there– like last time. a wave. light and missable, but never for him. his heart raced in his chest as he felt the heavy beating in his crotch as well. he opened your chat box, doubt washing off his back the longer he looked at you, his girl. he wanted you to think about him as much as he has been thinking about you. dick starting to strain against the waistband of his pajamas, he typed
STILL ME, BUNNY
this time he had a name, and a picture. no longer just a string of letters and numbers hiding him completely. you had your phone sat on the bed to the left of you, reaching for it you started typing something. pink text popped up in the chat box that said
MISSED ME ALREADY? <3
and there it was, you speaking directly to him, only him. you two experiencing whatever this was, together. this was the first form of conversation he had with you besides your sweet waves when greeting him.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA BEAUTIFUL
your thighs clenched around nothing again when his message came through. you stretched your legs out finally and he could see you were still wearing panties. pink ones this time, however the writing was now in a thick black font, bunny spelled out and hard to miss. you pulled your knees to your chest, legs spread as wide as you could hold them. panties hardly covering your cunt, lando’s hand slipped into his pants and head dropped back to just soak you all in.
you reached over to your night stand, before he saw the light pink vibrator coming back into the picture. you turned it on, the lowest setting, and rested it on your clit. that’s when he heard it. a soft sigh, like pure honey. eyes moving back up to your figure where now he saw the little clip-on mic attached to the strap of your lingerie. if he hadn't been so in awe, he might have cum right then, to the sound of your sweet little voice. his mind was going a little blank but he felt some level of pride swelling up in his chest. thats my girl, he said, outloud. he realized since the praise seemed to go right to your hips last time, he should say things in a way you could ‘hear’ them.
you picked up your phone again to see his message
THAT'S IT, BABY
it was simple, and pointed. your hips shifted, pushing you further into your viberator. a real moan passed your lips. still desperate and quiet but definitely not one you had any control over. lando then realized how easily he was jacking himself off. his tip leaking enough pre-cum to act as a lubricant. the wet sounds coming from his own fist, and watching you stay in that position like he was the one fucking you, nearly had him finishing before you.
you were moaning more consistently now, lando’s jaw slack as he barely traced his dick print to not let himself cum. everytime you hit that sweet spot, angling your clit just right against the vibrator, you would pull it away, whining. his sweet girl. talking to you in his head like you could hear every word. i know baby, i know its just too much for your sensitive pussy isnt it, he thought. unable to keep his hands out of his pants he wondered about pushing his luck. he knew better than anyone, the only way to win, is by knowing where the limit is, and still choosing to brush against it.
typing with one hand, and still pumping his cock with the other, he hit the enter key as butterflies hit his chest before you saw the message.
KEEP IT RIGHT ON THAT SPOT DOLL, CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME, PRETTY GIRL?
he watched your hand linger near your phone. then he saw, by the way your hair bounced, how enthusiastically you were nodding yes. your grip tightened around the wand as you held it firm against yourself, only letting up by rolling your hips, moving your panty covered clit against it. the limit had moved, he hadnt expected you to listen so well. his dick pulsed in his hand as the string of moans ripped through you. they werent soft or gentle anymore, no now they high pitched and greedy. your cunt controlling you more than your brain now, you lifted one of your bent legs up holding it even more wide open. he didnt know if it was for you to get more friction, or if you wanted him to really picture himself between your legs using your pussy how he pleased.
you stayed like that for him, like somehow, you knew he was close. fisting himself, he was too hot, too wet, too tense, everything was building up too quickly. you were mewing and moaning like a slut and it was for him. his head dropped back, eyes still desperately trying to stay open to watch you as his coil snapped and he soaked himself again. thinking about you beneath him, fucking wrecked before he is even all the way in. your moans leaking through his computer speaker like a prayer as stars flooded his vision. pleasure flowed over him as he thought about how desperately you might beg him to cum inside you.
coming back down to reality, his eyes were back on you. computer brought closer to his chest to watch you intently. no longer distracted by any selfish pleasure or desire, but just watching you make yourself feel good. watching you show yourself to him. you looked back over to your phone, a huff escaping through the flood of moans. no message from him? is that what upset you?
YOU WANNA COME FOR ME, BUNNY?
looking back over to see that had your other leg stretching out toes curling, body clenching, completely desperate. you nodded your head, whole body bobbing, as a moan– sob– left you.
USE YOUR BIG GIRL WORDS. he typed. a different kind of warmth in his belly than usual as he brushed the edge of the limit once again.
“yes sir, please, wan’ come for you” you spoke in a hush that was laced with both heaven and hell. lando’s ears burned hot. there it was. his girl. your body started to clench in all the right spots as you stared at your phone needing him more than ever.
MAKE ME PROUD THEN
was the message that came through before your vision went white and moans left you loud enough lando thought his neighbor might hear. you were shaking, body relaxing completely before tensing and giving you another rush of pleasure. knuckles white, clenching the wand of your vibrator, never once moving it after he told you. a good listener too, weren't you. the strangled noises were the first things that came back to you. ‘hnng’ and ‘mmph’ sounds that meant nothing and actually shot more to lando’s heart than his dick.
you clicked off your vibrator as your legs collapsed back down to your bed. looking as exhausted as last time– body tired and heavy in a way that made lan want to soothe you. made him wish you had fallen apart right here, in his arms, in his house, so he would be here to put you back together.
DID SO WELL FOR ME DOLL
he heard a giggle pick up from your mic between your deep breaths. a pulse to his heart he ignored. or tried to.
“was it good for you too?” you whispered into the mic your knees curling back to your chest, nervous again. he thought you were too good to be true. how you were so delicate and yet so quick to bend your legs like his own personal pornstar. still taking care to keep your face out of frame, you adjusted to reach for something off the floor. pulling an orange hoodie over your head sent his head back into a tizzy. spinning, and fucking whipped at the sight of you, his girl in his color.
BETTER THAN GOOD. ADDICTING. SAME TIME WEDNESDAY?
came through your screen and you hummed softly. a promise of more, a third encounter.
“yes, same time sunday, four” your voice said his number better than he had ever heard it in his life. it sounded better coming out of your mouth than any broadcaster announcing him a grand prix winner. “and maybe ill have a little surprise for you” you finished, leaving his skin buzzing, chest thumping with anticipation despite it being days away.
standing up off your bed, you moved towards whatever device was hosting your stream. same way you ended it last time.
ONE LAST THING BUNNY.
you saw as you moved closer, breasts in your pretty lingerie taking up the whole frame. he was able to see details of your skin that he knew would keep him up much later than it should.
“yes sir?” you asked with an innocence in your voice that didnt match his view of you just minuets ago.
MAYBE TURN ON YOUR TIPS NEXT TIME?
you scoffed back to the screen, skin turning a light shade of pink near your collar bones, flushed. “hmm maybe, just for you bub” your voice held the remnant of a smirk he could only dream of. then his screen flashed white and he was met with
CAMBUNNY HAS ENDED HER LIVE!
back in his bathroom, cleaning himself up, his head raced thinking about you. about everything that happened. about your voice. he was sure that was going to keep him up the latest. really it was the smaller things, like how your giggle made him flush, or the freckles along your collar bones, or how you listened to him, that worried him most. the joy that fluttered deep in his chest at the memory of you in his color saying his number, was probably a sign he was in this deeper than he should be. but with you, he just didnt care.
You thought the wait for TGR would cure me of being weird about character details? Wrong. I got worse.
The Golden Raven gave us some more info about the Floozies heights, so I’m back again with a revision of my first ever aftg post! All of the new stuff is going to be italicized, and the stuff we’re still working with from last time will be plain text.
Once again, we’re listing stuff we know first, and then stuff we can extrapolate!
KNOWN
Jean is 6’1-6’2
Jeremy is four inches shorter, so 5’9-5’10
Cody is 5’5
All of them, minus Jean, are under 6’0
The shortest floozy is Min, followed by Cody.
ASSUMED
We’re gonna use the high end of Jean and Jeremy’s heights for this, cause it gives us more range to work with (5’10 & 6’2)
Cat is taller than Laila (from that one line in tkm ch.16 where Laila says that Cat is too big for her to carry off the court)
Here we go!
PAT
We didn’t learn anything concrete about Pat, but he remains the person we have the most solid guess for. We know from this:
That Pat is taller than Jeremy, but also under 6’0. Still assuming that Jeremy is 5’10, that makes Pat 5’11 ish.
CODY
The person who has made this whole part two possible!!
Cody is 5’5 (same as me!!!), and the second shortest Floozy, which establishes a lower limit for almost everyone else. Very helpful! My personal congratulations to Cody for making it all the way to 5’5– I underestimated you bbg.
CAT
No new info about Cat’s height in TGR, so we are still saying 5’8 based on sheer vibes. Feeling good about this guess because it seems easy enough for her to kiss Jean’s face, so she’s probably not itty bitty.
LAILA
I had initially said Laila is probably 5’5, but that’s changed now. We’ve found out that everyone except for Min is taller than Cody, which means that Laila is actually taller than I anticipated. Still shorter than Cat, so we’ll say…5’6? Maybe 5’7, if she’s feeling tall.
ANANYA
Little known other than that she is taller than 5’5. She’s likely not remarkably tall for a woman, since Jean Why-Is-Everyone-So-Short Moreau never comments on it. We’re gonna go with 5’6 or 5’7, about the same as Laila.
MIN
Many more clues about Min, this time around! We still have this from TSC:
But TGR has given us this bit:
So now we also know that she is shorter than 5’5, and the shortest on the team. “Half-head” is probably used as a very vague measure here, but we’re gonna pretend thats a legit assessment. The average human head is 9.6in tall, which would make half of a head 4.8 inches. Assuming Cat is 5’8, that makes Min…5’3 or 5’4. We’ll be hard on her and say 5’3.
XAVIER
Like his girlfriend, we have a lower limit, and one comparison.
He is basically the same, if not a little shorter, than Laila…so likely 5’6-5’7 as well.
Annnnd this is what it looks like when they're all together!
I was off about quite a few things, it seems! SO hoping to get some info about Cat and Laila’s actual heights in book three, as it would be so useful for my little puzzle here…
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Oh boy! Part two ok here we go!!! How does Sunshine Gal snag herself a Tol Whore of a Wet Rat Man without him getting away? Well…
—————————————————————
The set was over and the little lady had picked up her rainbow blanket, folding it neatly and tucking it under her arm. She didn’t question Eclipse standing around while she took a moment to get her things arranged. In fact, she seemed to take it as a sign that they were now, in fact, Festival Buddies. And once she had her things neatly arranged she beamed up at him expectantly.
“Well… where to next?”
Clip… however… hadn’t quite consciously processed the fact that him standing there seemed to imply that they’d be going to the next venue together *on purpose.*
“… … Next?”
She just laughs at his confused expression and tips her head to one side with an endeared expression while she tugs at the high bun on her head and starts to free a cascade of curls that makes him want to take two large steps away lest he jam his hands immediately into the silky mass.
“Of course, silly. Which band do you recommend next? We could go together, if you’d like some company.”
He scoffs and looks away from temptation, scanning the crowds so he has something else to focus on.
“Pfff. Do I look like I need company?”
That makes her laugh too, though in a muffled way that makes it clear she’s trying very hard not to make it seem like she’s laughing at him while taking a moment to comb through the newly freed locks with her fingers.
“No, I suppose not. But just because you don’t *need it* doesn’t mean a little company isn’t nice sometimes. If you’d rather go your separate way, though, maybe I could at least trouble you for a recommendation before you go? A lot of the bands playing in this next rotation are newer indie bands that I don’t recognize. But you seem to be a man of impeccable taste, so I’d be delighted to hear if you know anything about any of them. Good or bad.”
“Hmm…”
He hazards a peek at her out of one optic. Fans in his chassis whirring loudly, but just barely under the background noise level of all the other people chatting around them as they head toward the next stage to get good seats, even though it’ll be another 30 minutes before they play. And that’s where he manually throttles them at (internal core temperatures be damned) lest his fluster over her sticky sweet smile be discovered.
“Guess I do have pretty good taste. Alright. Well… The Back Stagers* playing on the north stage suck ass. High school noobs with autotune. Not worth your time. West stage wasn’t even worth remembering for this rotation. And if you stick around here you’ll get a bunch of Beatles wanna-be’s.”
((*note: I really hope The Back Stagers isn’t really a band I’m just gonna be making up stuff for the sake of the pretendsies music festival and if every band name I google comes up with a match I’ll be here all week. If the Back Stagers is really a fr band I’m sure they’re lovely!))
Her smile grows, sly and knowing, as he concludes his analysis of the next rotation of bands. “Well fiddle-sticks. Then I guess that means the only stage worth finding a seat at is gonna be the East stage then, huh? You wouldn’t happen to be heading there next, would you?”
“What’s it to ya?” He sniffs, equal parts pleased and panicked that it seems he might have been a little too obvious in which direction he’s headed next. His new friend just gives him a playful smile and reaches up onto her tippy toes to boop the center of his faceplate, even going to far as to *say* ‘boop’ when she does it.
“Then tag! You’re it!”
She giggles while he sputters and flails at being touched unexpectedly on the part of his face plate where the tip of his ‘nose’ is carved, even though that space is really closer to being right beneath his left optic rather than in the middle of his face where a more human nose would be. By the time he’s righted himself, her bouncing curls have disappeared into the crowd and he cannot *believe* he feels half-obligated to follow through on the challenge. He could catch her instantly, of course. He’s all leg after all. But the bristling allergic reaction he has to following through on childish, lame, dumb baby stuff like this (where people can see him) keeps him rooted in place for a few seconds. Dusting off his jacket. Making himself look very busy with getting his hood to lay just right behind him.
And then, and only then. When any soul who may have possibly witnessed him being accosted by such an endearingly cute action has likely moved on… does he finally start walking east. Leisurely pace. Devil-may-care attitude. Hands stuffed in his pockets.
And an eagle eye out for a particular set of bouncing curls headed for the east stage.
He gets there eventually. Not that he was rushing or anything. Because he wasn’t. He just has long legs, and a long stride. And optics that can zoom several times past what any human can. So it makes sense for him to make a beeline for the telltale flash of a rainbow blanket being spread put on the grass a few feet closer to the stage than he might have chosen for himself, but still uncannily close to being in the perfect spot for getting the best audio quality for his mechanical systems to process.
The bastard in him can’t help but saunter up behind her quietly and tap her once on the wrong shoulder, making her turn once to the left before she turns again with a confused expression to the right. But he’s moved, keeping his bean-pole body directly behind her with a cheeky grin. He tap on the left side again, following expertly as she turns a full circle this time with a small noise of confusion. Finally, he taps on her right shoulder, and this time she turns left instead, catching him with a quick jerk of her head in the opposite direction of his tapping. The quick motion *does* allow her to catch him, but he also catches a face full of long curls. And in his sputtering to get the strands out of his mouth, his rays (also caught in the net of silk strands) retract.
“Oh!”
“Pbth! Bleh!”
It’s a chaotic moment that freezes as soon as she hisses in discomfort as his jostling and sputtering yanks a little too hard on her hair, and he instinctively locks his joints. He’d go pale if he could, but he can’t. Instead his rays just retract harder, which ends up tugging her closer as she follows the direction she’s being pulled.
“Ooh! Oh dear! Hang on… I think I’m tangled…”
“S-sorry… uh…” there’s a bit more subtle panicked flailing as their faces are quite close now, and Clip can just barely process the silver lining that her eyes are pinched closed with physical discomfort now that her hair is quite stuck in his rays because if he had to look into her eyes from this close he might just extend his claws and cut the strands right then and there.
“J-just hold still… I’ll… uh…”
He fumbles a bit, kneeling down to avoid pulling more. Then he manually extends his rays one by one, and blindly the two of them work on gently extracting the strands from his internal mechanisms. It’s mortifying, honestly, but once the tugging is down to a careful minimum his new friend just starts giggling.
“Karma sure is quick to act,” she jokes, and Clip rolls his optics.
“Not my fault you have 17 yards of hair, Rapunzel,” he gripes, freeing a few more chunks. She just giggles again and her deft little fingers dip gently and carefully into the open track for his rays to extract the last tangle of hair.
“Maybe the updo should have stayed. My fault for ‘letting my hair down’ for once, eh?”
Clip squeezes his eyes closed at the unfamiliar intrusion feeling quite uncomfortable about the whole affair, and says the first thing that comes to mind to try to deflect around the awkwardness building in the pits of his motherboard.
“You know if you wanted to get up close and personal, you could have just asked.”
… Nailed it.
And ‘Rapunzel’… just laughs again. A pretty blush staining her cheeks as the last of her locks finally pulls free and Eclipse can spring to his feet like he’s been stung by a bee. “To be fair, you started it! You were teasing me!”
Eclipse takes a second to focus on bobbling his rays in and out to make sure no errant strands are stuck in his gears, an automatic scoff on his lips while he tries valiantly (and unsuccessfully) to move the ghost of her delicate hands on his rays and just barely inside his casing into the recycle bin in his programming.
Oh that’s gonna haunt him for a *while…* he begrudgingly acknowledges once it seems clear that there’s a few loose strands caught in the gears. Not anything that’ll cause him harm. Just enough for him to feel it tickling in places he’s not used to feeling things.
He startles at the feeling of a very gentle little touch on his arm, and he looks down at ‘Rapunzel’ with wide eyes while she looks up at him with earnest concern. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He grimaces, and it comes out a little more like a sneer than he means for it to. “Me? Pfft. I’m not exactly delicate, you know. I’ve survived a lot worse than you.”
He internally curses himself, as that does come out a little meaner than he meant. But she merely nods in response and looks relieved that he isn’t hurt. “Oh phew. I was getting worried there for a second. If you’re alright… then… is there anything I can do to make up for getting you all tangled up?”
“You could take me home tonight,” he says before he can actually process the words. And it takes everything he has to keep his internal screech as an inside thought as much as his visceral need to go find a metal pole to bang his faceplate against several dozen times.
His new friend blinks in surprise, processing his words, before bursting out laughing. A real blow to his pride. What little he has. But before he can turn heel and bolt for the fenceline she takes his hands and gives him a painfully warm smile. “Do you not have anywhere to sleep for the night tonight? I didn’t exactly bring a tent or anything with me either, so do you need a place to stay?”
“Maybe…” he admits, deciding he can’t physically bear the thought of trying to say anything more than that for a few more moments. Lucky for him, that seems to be all that needs to be said. She squeezes his hands with a warm grin.
“Well… I don’t really make a habit of inviting men back to my place so soon after meeting. But if you don’t have a place to stay tonight then maybe I can make an exception. Couch surfing has to be better than wet grass, yeah?”
“Not always, but whatever,” he deflects, extracting his hands before her body heat soaks into his joints any further than it already has. “It’s just supposed to rain tonight… so…”
She giggles and waves him over to her blanket, bidding him to join her on it this time. “I can imagine. Fellow like you probably needs to be careful of getting too wet, eh?”
“Nah. Waterproof,” Eclipse responds, grabbing the blanket (with her on it) and tugging it backwards four feet. ‘Rapunzel’ squeals and laughs as he does so, delighted to be along for the ride. And when he lets go to plop down on it, she gives him a breathless smile.
“Satisfied with this superior location now?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”
She giggles at his assessment and takes a few moments to put her hair back up in it’s smart bun, a whole process of smoothing and gathering and twisting that Clip ignores purposefully, just in case anyone he knows happens to be here and look his way.
Perhaps he can’t really be blamed if he doesn’t actually remember much from the next set of performers to come up on stage. After all, how could he while he’s dealing with the distracting tickle of a few errant, long strands of hair tangling themselves just a little tighter into his gears.
GUH. PART TWO!
ohfhhfishcjsisjbthis is so silly and cute. I love clip getting embarrassed about being goofy in public, I want to punt him into a wall
Got crazy second hand embarrassment from the hair getting caught, still adorable and funny though. Also the hair fully catching and staying in his head, ough..
not sure if you meant to send me two of these, but i’m going to put some johnny cash lyrics up here that are maybe a touch relevant to a certain fictional man :)
