#BUT TODAY WAS ONLY TWO AND MY SOCKS ARE SLIPPERY AND I HAD PUT A new screen cover on my phone

[whatimdoing-here]

Been awhile since I pushed (errr pulled) too hard on the rower and strained something

[littlemissagrafina]

Mongoose on Ice

@comfortember Day 14. Encouraging

Summary: Peter grasped Morgan's hands. "You ready?"

She gripped back tightly, and Peter helped her slide over the edge of the dock, balancing her when she wobbled, her feet sliding out from under her.

"Whoa!" She breathed, eyes darting up to Peter's face. Uncertainty painted over her expression.

"Hey! It's okay! You're okay! It's slippery and feels really weird but you'll get used to it. You'll slide around, feel wobbly, and probably fall, but I promise you'll be okay and I'll keep you safe."

Morgan was quiet, eyes darting between the ice and the dock before she visibly steeled herself. "I've got this."

Aka Peter teaches Morgan to ice skate.

Read on AO3

Peter and Tony had barely made it back through the door when Morgan appeared in front of them.

She stared up at them with wide eyes and a surprisingly serious frown. She already had her favourite purple beanie squished haphazardly over her braids, and was holding her matching gloves and coat.

"And? Is it frozen enough? Is it good, can we go? Can we, can we?" 

Tony smiled. "It's all good, baby. Peter and I both checked and we used a little drone so Friday could check too."

Morgan's eyes widened even more which was something Peter didn't even know was possible before she threw her hands up and yelled so loudly that Peter and Tony winced. "YES! SKATING! Petey let's GOOO!"

She grabbed Peter's hand and started pulling him towards the door, but Peter tugged her back.

"Nope." He shook his head. "Not yet. You're forgetting something, Morgs. What we're the rules that Mom and Dad made?"

She blinked, head tilting as she thought before she suddenly started giggling. "Whoops. I need my warm stuff on. And I need to listen to you and not pull you around. And we need our skates."

Peter held his hand out for a high five and waited for her to put her coat on, they almost walked away but Tony cleared his throat, eyebrow raised as he gestured to Morgan's pockets. 

"Gloves too, Missy."

"Oh yeah." She quickly slid them on. Turning to Tony, she held her arms out and waved her hands. "Ready now?"

"Nope." He shook his head and scooped her up to give her a hug and pressed a kiss to her head. When he put her down, he did the same to Peter, just without the picking up because he really didn't feel like pulling his back today.

"Now you're ready."

With that, Peter grabbed the small duffle bag he'd stored their skates in, and they trampled out the door.

-

Peter led Morgan to the snow covered dock, dusting the edge so she could sit on the edge without getting icy bits stuck to her pants just yet.

He hopped carefully onto the ice below the dock, leaving him at eye level with his sister. "Okay, the dock is the safe zone for this. It's the resting area, the putting-our-skates-on area, the entry and exit area. Whatever you think of, it's that. Got it?"

Morgan nodded, eyes shining with excitement, her legs swing back and forth over the edge of the dock.

"Cool! So now what I'm gonna do first is put my skates on. Then I'm just gonna skate for a bit and get used to it and see how bumpy or rough the ice is. If it has lots of snow and uneven patches, I'll know where to stay away from while I teach you."

He hopped up next to Morgan and tugged the duffle bag closer to sit between them. Slipping his boots off, Peter set them on the do behind them and opened the duffle. He grabbed his skates and left them next to the bag, grabbing the two extra pairs of socks he'd slipped in with them.

"Actually, let's have a first little lesson right now." Peter held up the skates for a moment, "We both have hockey skates, rather than figure skates. I only tried figure skates twice but I tripped over the toe pick enough times and had enough bruises to never want to go near them ever again. And I just think hockey skates feel more comfy and secure so that's what I'm gonna teach you in. If you like it and want to skate more and learn more fancy stuff one day, then we can talk to Dad about all that."

Morgan nodded along as he spoke. "Hockey skates are cool and that's what you like. Figure skates for if I like it and wanna do fancy stuff later. Got it. Are they really sharp?" She questioned, poking at the stretchy material of the skate covers.

"Yes and no. They're sharp that if someone gets hit really hard with the blade, they can get cut up really bad. But they're not sharp enough to cut you if you just touch them or rub your fingers or hand over the blade." Peter paused and gestured to the bag, "Hey, take yours out and I'll show you."

Morgan fished hers out, leaving the socks she saw behind for the meantime. 

Peter picked up one of his skates and took the cover off, prompting Morgan to do the same. Once she did, Peter took both skates and rested them on his lap, the blades facing his sister.

"Feel the blades, mine will be a bit sharper than yours. Can you feel that?" He asked as Morgan brushed her fingers over the edges of both blades.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I can feel it."

Peter hummed, passing her skate back and taking the cover off of his other skate. "Mine are a little sharper 'cuz I'm pretty good at skating. Yours are more dull to help you learn." He grabbed his socks, sliding one pair over the ones he was already wearing and then a fluffy pair for good measure. "They can't be too dull or your slip around too much and fall, but, while you're learning, it will be easier than having ones that grip and cut deeper in the ice the same way that mine do."

Peter slipped the skates on, tugging and pulling at his laces until they were tied so the boot of the skate was snug over his whole foot, especially his ankle. He repeated it with the one and tossed his skate covers into the bag before carefully hopping down onto the ice. It had been a while since he'd last skated and he needed to get used to the feel of the ice again.

"How are we doing so far, Mongoose? Not overloading you with any of this?"

Morgan shook her head, mimicking Peter's earlier action and taking out her other skate and socks. "Nope. It's interesting. I like when you explain things to me. I like learning."

Peter grinned at her, sliding backwards a bit. "I know you do. I do too. I'm gonna check out the ice a bit like I said, then I'll help you put your skates on."

"Can I start putting my socks on?" Morgan asked, already reaching for them while Peter nodded.

"Yeah, you can. Put the normal pair over your socks you have on now and then the fluffy pair last, like I did."

Morgan had already started tugging her boots off, so Peter pushed off, wobbling slightly before his 'ice legs' took over and he was gliding smoothly over the lake. He arched around in a fairly large circle, going back and forth until he was sure there were no hazards, be it snow piles or sticks or whatever could have blown onto the ice.

He skated back to Morgan, taking a moment to spun and start skating backwards, sliding smoothly to a stop in front of the dock.

Morgan handed over her skates, wiggling her fluffy, purple sock covered toes at him. "Can I lace them myself?"

Peter shocked his head. "Not this time. They've gotta be pretty tight so your ankle doesn't wobble in the boot and you don't get hurt. We use extra socks so we can minimize blisters and stuff, too. Your skates are new, so they'll be hard to lace for a while but once you've broken them in more, you can do the lacing for yourself."

Peter looked up, catching sight of Tony and Pepper walking down from the house as he slid both skates over Morgan's feet. He was almost done with lacing them when their parents stepped onto the dock.

"Guys, look! I have my skates on!" Morgan beamed up at them as they settled a thick blanket on the edge of the dock and sat down themselves, another blanket and a flask was placed next to them.

Tony smiled back and Pepper leant over, pressing a kiss to Morgan's forehead as she straightened the purple beanie. "We see, Baby. How's the ice, Pete?" 

Peter looked up at them as he double checked the laces on Morgan's skates. "Pretty good. It's frozen over really smoothly and there isn't too much snow on it that we'll get tripped up over. No sticks or anything either."

Peter grasped Morgan's hands. "You ready?"

She gripped back tightly, and Peter helped her slide over the edge of the dock, balancing her when she wobbled, her feet sliding out from under her.

"Whoa!" She breathed, eyes darting up to Peter's face. Uncertainty painted over her expression. 

"Hey! It's okay! You're okay! It's slippery and feels really weird but you'll get used to it. You'll slide around, feel wobbly, and probably fall, but I promise you'll be okay and I'll keep you safe."

Morgan was quiet, eyes darting between the I and the dock before she visibly steeled herself. "I've got this."

Peter cheered, Pepper and Tony calling out with their own encouragements.

"First things first, keep your blades as straight as possible for now, twisting, angling, and leaning to steer can come later. For now it's just balance. So keep them straight and try to keep your feet under you at shoulder width."

He nudged her skates slightly with his to help her pull them closer together, squeezing her hands in praise when she balanced herself on them automatically.

"Next. Don't haunch over too much or you lose balance. Leaning over is good for when you're going fast, but too much while you're learning or slow and you'll get all wobbly. Same with standing up too straight. That way can make you fall backwards if you lean too far back in your heels to stand so straight. So try to be in between the two."

Morgan only wobbled slightly as she stood up a bit straighter, but she beamed up at Peter when she kept her balance.

"Perfect!" He cheered. "Try and stay like that. I'm going to skate backwards and pull you along. I'll hold your hands just like this and we'll go super slow. If you slip, I can catch you easily."

He felt Morgan tense when he pushed off, leading them slightly away from the dock but not so far in the middle that Morgan would feel scared.

"I'm gonna turn a bit so we can go in a big circle. I'll go wide, so don't worry about trying to turn, I'm just showing you have it all feels, okay?"

Morgan nodded, excitement returning as she relaxed, adjusting to the feel of the ice even though she wasn't doing much herself.

Peter pulled her around for a while, stopping at the dock every now and then to let her stand and balance on her own in between being guided around.

After a while, Morgan asked to try skating forward on her own, so Peter stood next to her just past the dock. He showed her the way to lean from side to side to guide forward without having to pick up her feet, switching to teaching her to pick up her feet and actually push off once she had settled and got bored with just gliding forward.

Peter jumped and cheered, just barely dodging a fall in his excitement when she pushed herself across the ice without his help. He seriously hoped that Tony got it on video. He and Pepper had been taking so many pictures and recordings of them.

"Go Mongoose!! You did it!" He hollered, whooping and darting around on the ice before gliding over to her and squeezing her in a bear hug.

They spent ages on the ice until Morgan was eventually pushing off near the dock and skating towards Peter where he waited to catch her closer to the open area of the frozen over lake. Then she would skate back and catch herself on the end of the dock or on Pepper and Tony's legs where they dangled over the edge as they sat and watched.

"Can you pull me again? Faster this time?"

"Not too fast, but yeah. I'll take you around faster than before." Peter laughed at her pout, but pulled her out all the same and soon Morgan was giggling, cool air rushing over them and the slight unevenness of the ice making her feet feel like they were being tickled in her skates. It wasn't enough to make her wobble totally, though. Peter made sure of it.

Crossing his skates over, Peter grinned as he guided them over another bumpy patch and Morgan's giggles grew louder. Back and forth they went until they were both breathless from the cold air and laughter.

Taking a small break, they were given a mug of hot chocolate from the flask that Pepper and Tony had brought down with them. Morgan chatted away, asking over and over if their parents had seen how fast her and Petey had gone and how good she was skating.

Leaning against the dock, mug cradled in his hands and Tony's at wrapped over his shoulder, Peter knew that Morgan would be dragging him to the lake as much as possible. 

He looked forward to it.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Callie Bassett-Shen - Feather in the Wind

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Callie is exceedingly self-sufficient and doesn't realise that maybe accepting help isn't a bad thing.

Words: 2372

Goose awoke to the soft smell of cinnamon on the early spring day. He smiled, wondering what Carole had made for breakfast that smelt so damn good, only to turn over and find her sleeping soundly beside him.

Getting up and putting on his glasses, his bones creaking reminding him that was racing towards forty, he decided to figure out what was going on. No one else was awake. Rare silence floated around as he crept around.

Yet, when he entered the kitchen, there were clean dishes on the drying rack, dishes that weren't there the night before. He hummed and saw some ingredients for french toast left out on the side. Who had made that? And how had they done it quietly enough to not wake anyone?

Feeling slightly defeated, he went to return to bed, only to glance outside at the soft blue sky and see Callie Bassett-Shen pegging out laundry on their washing line. She was sharing a room with Natasha and the two were getting along well, especially considering how much Natasha was coming along since she arrived. Carole had told him about what had happened to her and he was horrified, he knew bad things happened to some kids in care but being faced with it was something else entirely. 

Stepping out onto the porch, he called to her, "Morning."

She must have been in her own world, as upon his call, she jumped out of her skin. He walked onto the dew covered grass to help her with the last few items. A thin layer of moisture made his feet slippery, maybe he should've put some shoes on.

As he began placing socks on the line, her posture changed. Every now and then she'd give him a side eye, only to stop as soon as he met it with a smile.

"I can do this myself, you know," she eventually said.

"I know," he replied, then added. "We could've washed your clothes, you know, with everyone else's?"

She shrugged and placed the last t-shirt on the line. A slight breeze picked up, the clothes fluttered in it. 

"I'm guessing you're the one who made the french toast?"

She nodded and went to get the washing basket and pegs. He beat her to it, giving her yet another smile even though he felt the bend in his spine. Just like the doctor said, his body was stiffening up more than a normal person's would with age. His accident still lingered in his body no matter how much work he put in to push past it. 

"Yet again, we could've helped with that."

She opened the door for him, "I know, but I don't need help to do it, so why ask?"

"That's not the point of us helping,"

"Then what is?"

He paused, placing the basket down, then placing his hands on his hips.

"You'll figure it out." He said, then carried the basket to the utility and left her standing there puzzled in the light of the sun blinking through the blinds.

~~~~

The school run was always hectic but somehow today it was even more so. Bradley was rushing around getting his lunch together, despite Carole trying to get him to make it the night before. Natasha was already outside tapping her foot. Mickey ran around trying to find a toy, no figurine, he insisted on bringing to school to show Reuben.

And there, in the middle of it all, was Callie. She wasn't rushing everyone like Natasha or slowing everyone down like Bradley and Mickey. She was just sitting at the table giving everyone a slightly condescending look.

"Callie, right, where's your stuff, sweetie?" Carole said with her head in the fridge. "I can't see your sandwich in here, did you make it?"

"No, I made myself some noodles for my lunch," 

She kicked her backpack on the floor beside her. Carole peaked out from behind the fridge door.

"When did you do that?" 

"This morning?"

Carole thought back to the morning. She’d woken up at six and it seemed like there was only her and Nick up. After her shower, and a lovely hour of free time before they woke up the kids, she hadn't heard anything from Callie. Unless she woke up even earlier, she had no idea when she would've had time to make her own lunch, let alone noodles.

"When?"

"When I got up?"

"And that was?" Carole tried not to look as slow as she felt.

"6:30, it didn’t take me long," 

Carole shut the fridge door as Mickey came racing down the stairs, finally ready. She hurried Callie along, still perplexed at how organised she was, as they headed out toward the minivan. 

"Maybe next time I can help, if it doesn't take long," she said.

She just managed to get a glimpse of her confused look and mild shrug before rolling the door shut. They were now running late and had two schools to get to. If only she was as organised as Callie appeared to be. 

~~~~

Goose finally had a moment to himself. All the kids were entertained. Carole was knitting in the living room, probably in less peace than he was right now, Bradley and Mickey were playing some video game and he knew they could get loud. 

He was in the shed, which they'd converted into a makeshift pottery studio. After going to a class on a whim one day, he'd fallen in love with the craft. It was his new hobby despite him not being the best, Carole had called his stuff 'Wobblyware'. His body was getting stiffer and more painful as he aged, his injury from top gun still enacting its revenge, and he couldn’t run like he used to, so a new hobby was welcomed.

There was something about the slow movement, gently taking the time to craft something of his own. For a little while, he was granted his own space and took it gratefully. 

Breaking this peace, Carole walked in in a flurry of anxiety. He stopped the wheel and looked up at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

"Have you seen Callie recently?"

He shook his head, "No," he said, then, "Why?"

"I can't find her."

His calm broke. He assumed she was entertaining herself like the rest of the kids. Thinking back, he didn't remember her talking about going anywhere or meeting anyone. 

"When did you last see her?" He asked. 

"This morning, at breakfast, have you seen her since then?"

"No, I asked her if she wanted to come to the store and she said no."

Carole's face paled. She raked her hands through her hair as she began to hyperventilate. Goose hurried to her side to calm her down.

"Hey, she can't have gone far, we'll find her okay?"

He held her in a strong embrace. Worry knotted deep in his gut as he wondered where she could be. Perhaps she ran away, she would be their first. It was to be expected but didn't ease the stress slowly inching in around him.

He stroked Carole's hair as he tried to assure himself, "We'll find her."

~~~~

Natasha watched them return to the car with grave faces, and for good reason. Callie wasn't with them. Usually she didn't care if someone ran away, she didn't like to care about anyone, but she’d started to bond with her. They were both self-sufficient, both knew what it was like to be the only person they could rely on, both found Goose and Carole sweet nature a bit too much sometimes.

Upon getting back to the car, Carole crumpled into Goose's arms again. Natasha could tell he was trying to be the strong one but knew by the faint look on his face that he was struggling too. 

"What if we don't find her?" She said, her words muffled through the window.

"We will, we've just got to check somewhere else."

"But we've checked everywhere we can think of! All over the house, up and down the street, at the school, at her old house, there's nowhere else!"

Her head fell onto Goose's shoulder, he rested his head on her's. He scrunched his eyes shut, his hands tense around her as they came to the realisation that they may have actually lost a child.

Yet, just when all hope seemed to be lost, Natasha had an idea. All week, Callie had been talking about Lunar New Year. The food she told her about made her stomach rumble. It was the only time she really mentioned her parents. It wasn't like she had a bad relationship with them, she denied it with vigour anytime someone insinuated that she did, but they’d been going away for work more and more over the recent years until Callie had to fend entirely for herself. 

She yanked off her seatbelt and ran out of the car to Goose and Carole. They broke their embrace, Carole's eyes were red. 

"I think I might know where Callie is."

~~~~

Chinatown may be a bit of an exaggeration. It was, more accurately, two streets of bakeries, restaurants, butchers, wholesalers, groceries and other stores filled with goods you couldn't find in most shops. People milled about with shopping bags, glancing in windows and talking in other languages.

Goose and Carole, along with the rest of their kids, cut through the crowds in increasing amounts of panic. Natasha had told them how much Callie spoke of Lunar New Year and all the foods her family would make. Maybe she'd gone there to get a few things?

"Callie!" Carole yelled down the street. "Callie!"

They couldn't see her amongst the people. Carole began to panic as she settled herself on the idea that she was gone for good.

Goose stopped her spiralling and held her by the shoulders. There was just as much panic in his eyes as she was feeling, yet he managed to block it out. He had been in the navy after all, they'd trained panic out of him at the Academy.

"How about I check that way with Brad and Mickey-" he gestured to his left. "And you go the other way with Nat, okay?"

She nodded and kissed him on the cheek before darting off into various shops. Luckily, she'd brought a photo with her to show to people. Yet, no matter how many times she asked if they'd seen her, no matter how many times she repeated her description or flashed the photo, no one had seen her.

They were running out of shops, down near where the street met the road, when all hope seemed lost. She'd never felt this defeated before. What if they were deemed unfit and the kids got taken off them? She wouldn't know if they would go to a good home, with loving carers, or another bad one. 

Natasha may think she could cope but Carole couldn't live with herself if she fell back on that icy exterior she used to protect herself. And Mickey, sure he was growing up, but she wouldn't know if someone would be as patient with his ramblings like her and Goose were.

"Carole, look-" Natasha tugged on her arm and pointed to someone coming out of a butcher's across the street. "Is that her?"

It sure seemed like it. Black hair in two plaits hanging down on either side of her head. She was even wearing the same stripey purple top with denim dungarees like she was this morning. It was her.

"Callie?" 

She looked up from a piece of paper and spotted them. Her eyes widened as she moved to see Goose running to her. Carole joined him and was soon bolting toward her.

"Callie, oh my goodness, what were you thinking, disappearing like that?" She exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

She didn't want to let her go but knew she had to when Goose tapped on her shoulder. He took the bags from her, giving her a smile as she rubbed her arm.

"I'm sorry if you're mad, I-I won't do it again."

Goose lent down, "Callie, we're not mad, you just scared us that's all."

"But I just went shopping, for new year, I do it all the time."

He sighed, smiling again, "I know, and we're not denying that you're perfectly self-sufficient, but to us we saw a  fourteen year old disappearing with no note of where she could be." She went to say something but he carried on. "And we don't want to lock you up like Rapunzel, but maybe tell us next time so we can pick you up and drop you off and know where you are, okay?"

She nodded and they headed back to the car. Goose took a gander in the bags.

"What did you buy anyway?"

"Ingredients."

"For?"

"Food."

They reached the minivan. Goose placed the bags in the back of the car and slid open the door for the kids. Callie still seemed ashamed. She sat on her hands and didn't make any conversation, even with Natasha when she tried.

As Carole drove them home, Goose made eye contact with Callie through the rear view mirror. 

"When is Lunar New Year anyway?"

"Monday."

"Maybe we could help?"

She seemed to ponder that fact for a second before answering, "Maybe."

Goose settled, satisfied. They carried on driving.

~~~~

It had been another chaotic day. Early morning marinating. Cooking all afternoon. All for this. Callie had shown them the other traditions, money in red envelopes, lanterns decorated the house. They'd even got some fireworks for later.

"So, what've got here, exactly?" Bradley asked.

"Sweet and Sour Fish, Shrimp in Longjing Tea, Stewed Bamboo Shoots, Spiced Soy Duck, Steamed Buns, Dumplings and Spring Rolls." Callie said, pointing to each bowl in the middle of the table.

"It's a lot," Goose said, he was trying to hold his chopsticks and struggling greatly, Carole lent over to correct how he held them. "So we better get started!"

And as she watched them all tuck in, she finally understood what Nick meant when he caught her putting out the washing. Sure, she could have done this by herself, but she didn't have to. That's what this was all about.

I spent an ungodly amount of time researching food from the Hangzhou region of China. And yes, I specified the region Callie's family is from because it states her actress speaks the Hangzhou dialect of mandarin as well as general mandarin.

Also, Goose being a potter is a headcanon I hold close to my heart (I'm from an area in the UK called the potteries so it's my heritage I guess).

Also also, Goose having general stiffness and chronic pain after his accident in Top Gun just makes sense to me. It was a serious accident, he literally died, so in an AU where he lives I reckon he wouldn’t just be hunky dory after.

Thanks for reading!

[neoheros]

weekday mornings in the kuroo household can be, using a very generous word, hectic.

there’s the argument over having breakfast or not, the tripping over clothes left lying on the smooth -slippery- wood floors, and of course, the yelling of “hey! have you seen my tie?”.

it isn’t peaceful, and for waking up at six am for five days straight, you’re not sure if it’ll ever even resemble peaceful.

“have you seen my book!” you yell more than you ask, rummaging through your bag frantically as you almost convince yourself that you lost it.

kuroo peaks out of the bathroom door, his toothbrush still in his mouth, “bedside table!”

and you sigh a breath of relief as you run to it, almost tripping once or twice over rogue socks and boxers that kuroo’s promised to put away, but somehow is always still there.

you’d judge him for being so sloppy, but honestly, your books are everywhere as much as his clothes are, so you really have no room to say anything.

“how’re we doing on time!” kuroo yells from the bathroom, the sound of the faucet turning on coming with him.

you yell back, “well, there’s time for you to shave!”

“we’re going to be late if i do!” he laughs.

and you almost want to groan in complaint, “i would literally rather be late again than have to sleep with your stubble against my face.”

kuroo steps out of the bathroom, his hair damp, and a silly smile on his clean face, “i shaved in the shower.”

you roll your eyes, “efficient.”

kuroo stands next to you now, helping you as you ready your things, and he smiles smugly as he hands you one of your books.

these are probably the only snippets of time you get with one another before the two of you don’t see each other ‘til the afternoon.

it’s a saddening thing to think about, but you guys make it up with the fact that the only reason you two are always cutting it late is because either of you refuse leave the bed together in the morning.

“time?” kuroo asks you again.

“twenty minutes ‘til the bus leaves for us.” you tell him, dropping your bag to the ground as you opt to put your socks on there.

“that’d make us only five minutes late.” he says, laughing lightly as he watches you run around the place.

you call out to him, “better than yesterday!”

kuroo laughs again, taking hold of your arms to stop you before you run off to do something else again, stilly holding you in place.

he’s stronger than you are, so it’d be a waste of time to try and get out of his grip.

“six minutes late.” you remind him, trying to keep a straight face as you absolutely refuse to give him a smile.

he ignores you, and instead he pulls you into his arms, laughing, “you think we can miss our first classes?”

“you know,” and you pull away, tittering, “we had this conversation yesterday too.”

“hm,” he looks at you, “what did you say again?”

“yesterday, i said we can’t,” you smile, “and i’m saying that again today.”

kuroo gives you a frown, his lower lip almost dramatically jutting out into a pout, and you roll your eyes at him.

“try your luck again tomorrow.” you tell him, running your fingers through his damp hair.

and he gives you a look, “don’t you dare tease me.”

kuroo’s hand comes back to your waist, his other on the side of your face, and with a silly smile, he pulls you into a quick kiss.

you can still kind of feel the way he’s pouting, and this makes you laugh lightly.

“okay,” you pull back, your hands against his chest, “you have to go.”

he shakes his head, pulling you back into a longer - deeper - kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips, “hmm.”

you pull away again, laughing, “eight minutes late.”

“alright, alright,” kuroo rolls his eyes playfully, his arms leaving your touch, “i’m leaving.”

and you give him a nod, accompanied by a stern look that tells him he actually has to go now.

“okay, goodbye,” he gives you a quick peck on the lips before pulling away, “see you tonight.”

kuroo grabs his backpack from the couch, walking off in a slight hurry, and you hear the door slam behind him as he leaves.

you stand alone in the middle of your apartment, noting how it’s both messy and homey at the same time.

books on different tables, socks on the floor, but the bed is made and there’s a small single picture frame of you and kuroo at your wedding completely isolated on the wall.

you check your watch again, never really liking the feeling of an empty apartment, and you’ve got a few more minutes to spare without being late.

still, you wish you’d just left with kuroo than stand here alone.

the door handle twists, and your attention is back to the door suddenly opening without as much as a warning.

“hey!” you smile as you see kuroo again, his breathing a bit unsteady and you assume that he must’ve ran back here, “forgot something?”

and he nods, smiling as he repeats, “forgot something.”

“yeah?” you ask, looking around the room to try and find what that thing was.

but kuroo just walks up to you, his hands immediately back on your waist, and he pulls you into a kiss.

he smiles against your lips, almost as if he wants to laugh, and it takes him another second or two before even considering to pull away.

“okay,” he pulls back, “i have to go now.”

and as quick as he got to you, he runs back to the door, smiling widely as he twists the door handle, before drastically looking back at you.

“wait!” he calls out, and you snap your head back to him, “there’s one more thing!”

you blink, “what is it?”

and kuroo smiles, “i love you.”

[peakyxtommy]

Baby’s First Christmas

Summary: Enjoying Baby’s First Christmas with Bonnie, John, & Isaiah. 

A/N: Request by @peakyrogers  , hope you enjoy! Happy New Year! Wishing you the best this year!

Bonnie: 6m (Son)

It was the big day in the Gold household. It was Aiden's first Christmas. You and Bonnie loved the holiday and always decorated your home accordingly. It was even more fun now that you had your son with you both. You took photos at the beginning of the month and made homemade Christmas cards for your family and friends. You were putting the last sock on your son’s foot before you heard the doorbell ring and loud shouts coming from the door. 

You watch as your son’s eyes jump open even wider at the noises. 

“I think our family is here to visit Aiden.” You laugh at him before bringing him into your arms, kissing the top of his head.

“If it isn’t the spitting image of my son or what?” Aberama throws his hands toward you as you come down the stairs. You hand your son over to his grandfather, going to stand next to Bonnie. 

“I think so more and more everyday” You respond but with looking Bonnie straight in his eyes as he gives you a warm smile. You give him a chaste kiss enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Eww, enough you two. You already have one here for the party, wait until we leave to start cracking at number two.” His sister speaks, taking your son out his grandfather’s arms moving to sit on the couch next to the tree. 

“Let’s open some presents.”  Aberama speaks. 

You take a seat on the floor by the tree and help Bonnie pass out presents one by one. Everyone takes turns opening them and you sit your son down and help him open a few presents but he enjoyed the paper more. 

“At least he’s having fun love.” Bonnie speaks as your son squeals in delight at the paper he’s playing with. As the day progressed with dinner, sweets, and hot chocolate. The baby went to bed on time but you and Bonnie went to bed way past your bedtime too busy talking off the sugar rush from the day. 

John: 9m (Daughter)

“Miss Emerson, I think you’re almost ready!” John cheers as your nine month old daughter is standing up holding on to the table in front of her bounce on her small feet, as he sits behind her encouraging her movements. 

“John, let the poor girl rest. You’ve been at it all week, yeah. Can’t tire her out before presents and on the night before her first Christmas at that hun.” You bend down to give him a kiss, feeling the cool metal of his rings brush against your skin as he tries to deepen it. 

“You better behave or you won’t get your present from Santa.” You playfully smack his chest as he licks his lips. 

“I called and talked to Santa today personally myself. Do you want to know what he said?” He says in a cocky tone with the smirk to match.

“What did Santa tell you Mr.Shelby?” You humor him right back, enjoying teasing each other.

“He told me you were on the naughty list and I was free to punish you.” His warm breath whispers into the shell of your ear. 

“Well, if that’s true. I’ll be ready at a more suitable hour and I'll accept whatever punishment there is to offer. But for now we have a bedtime story and cookies that need to be laid out. So I need you to wrangle the crew for hot chocolate and remind Katie to bring the book down.” 

“That’s a lot of things to do.” 

“Well I'm sure you can make due.” You kiss him quick before going off to the kitchen to start the first batch of hot chocolate, while John took Emerson and went upstairs to get the rest of the children who were playing together. 

 Soon enough you were dropping Emerson in her crib and John was handling the other three. You went back downstairs to find your husband sipping on Santa’s whiskey and eating the first of quite a few cookies on the plate.

“We have some quick cleaning to do and then we can enjoy the rest of our evening alone Father Christmas.” You speak pouring your own small glass of whiskey and enjoy a cookie as John stared at you with total lust. It wasn’t long before you tangled in his arms as the moonlight glistened through the windows.

-

It felt like it wasn’t much longer until the sun was peeking through the windows and the thumps of footsteps and loud whispers were heard as the door was creaking open with your rambunctious children.

“Merry Christmas.” You hear your son Avery speak as your eyes meet his and help lift him onto the bed as Katie and John do the same until the whole crew is in your bed which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in your home. 

“Can we open our presents?” Robert, your second son asks John as he sits in between you two as Emerson is sitting on John’s chest. 

“Yes, but everyone needs to make sure they brush their teeth and wash their face first. Then go downstairs and we’ll be down in a couple of minutes.” He speaks with a soft but serious tone as the children cheer rushing off to do as they were told. 

“Merry Christmas Dad.” You kiss John’s cheek. “Happy first Christmas to my sweet girl.” You say to Emerson who was babbling to herself as she sat on the bed between you and John. 

“Merry Christmas doll. Let's get ready for the day, got loads to do today.” He takes Emerson getting up and grabbing his robe off the chair. You follow suit getting yourself freshened up as John takes care of Emerson’s needs. You make it down stairs before them and watch as your kids chat among themselves about what Santa might have gotten them. John and Emerson come two minutes later and he lets the kids begin opening their presents as you go to heat Emerson a bottle to eat while her siblings open presents. 

She eats content on the couch as John helps the children. When she’s done eating, you sit her on the floor by the tree next to John who helps her open her presents. It’s the cutest sight really, watching the man you love interact with all your children. He had his own love and devotion toward them, but he would always have a face of softness reserved for them only.

Once breakfast is finished and the kids are content in the living room playing with their toys as a Christmas movie plays in the background, John was back in his usual spot with Emerson trying to get her to walk yet again.  

“Love I think she finally has it. Switch spots with me.” He speaks with excitement in his voice.

“Come on Emery. Come to daddy.” He cheers, clapping his hands and holding them open for her as you begin helping her walk the small length until she takes off on her own for just a few steps before falling into John’s lap.

“See, I knew you could do it! I told your mummy so!” He lifts her into the air kissing her cheeks as she laughs from the attention. You couldn’t be any happier on Christmas day than to be surrounded by your big beautiful family. 

Isaiah: 11ms (twins girl and boy)

  “Love we have to get going or we’re going to be late to mass and my dad will have our heads.” Your husband of five years stresses to you as you finish putting on your heeled boots.

“Alright, I’m almost ready. Get the kids in their car seats and I’ll help you bring them to the car okay?” You look up at him to see him give you a small smile knowing that you weren’t the cause of his stress but his father who asked him to give the opening and closing prayer to the service. He simply leaves the room to go back to your fraternal twins. You check your purse to make sure you have everything and the diaper bag as well. You zip up your coat and grab the bags making your way down stairs to see your husband at the door with both babies in their car seats wide awake. 

“The doors on the car are open but be careful it’s a little slippery out.” He gives you your son, Leon, to take to the passenger side of the backseat while he takes your daughter, pearl, to the other half. Once everyone was strapped in, he began the short drive to the church. You would arrive just in time to grab your seats and for Isaiah to see his dad who looked like he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you all walk through the door. 

The service goes by pretty quickly with the songs, message, children play, and then lighting of the candles. You find yourselves talking with the congregation and Jeremiah to remind what time to come for presents and breakfast in the morning. You were headed back home because it was way past the kids bedtime. When you get in, you change them and place them down for the night. You and Isaiah took a quick shower together and made love in bed before falling asleep.

-

The next morning you found yourself at the tree with Isaiah and your twins in a circle at the tree as Jeremiah watched from the couch with a huge smile on his face. You watched as the twins took turns opening their presents to the best of their abilities and getting excited at the mess the wrapping paper was creating. Shoving every little toy in your face as it was revealed to them so they knew that you saw it. 

“I have a special gift for you!” Isaiah hands you a box and you open it to see two tickets and a new silk dress. 

“This is too much Isaiah. You’re too good to me.”

“That’s not all and we’ll be spending a three day weekend in London too, just the two of us. Dad’s going to watch the twins.” He winks at you as you feel the butterflies in your stomach grow even after all this time together. 

“That sounds lovely, thank you.” You smile at him and his father. Once you clean up the wrapping papers you settle down for brunch with Isaiah and his father. Once it’s over, you put the twins down for a nap and the two of you decide to take a nap as well. That when he asks you a serious question.

“Do you want to have another baby soon?”

“Yes, we can. Right after the twin’s first birthday. Now let’s sleep.” You kiss his lips confirming the decision. You rest your head on his rest as his arms tight around your waist. You both fall asleep together.

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 05.

[10:10 a.m] Joohyun turns over, rustling the sheets like autumn leaves. She sleepily buries her face into the warmth of a sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie.

. . . . .

Seungwan looks up from the sink and over to the living room. Her head still pounds a little but the Ibuprofen seems to be kicking in. A soft smile traces her lips as she sees who’s asleep on the sofa. It really sucks that they’re both such hardworking students who’d rather be an hour late to a class than miss it, because it’s surely a crime to disturb someone so at peace they’re almost glowing in the sun’s morning rays.

And if the rumours are true, It’s also probably a crime to have her here at all. Seungwan thinks of all the ways she could get arrested for harbouring gangster daughters of mob leaders but ends up losing herself in the composition of Joohyun’s sleeping face.

Even her friends believed that whole dumb ‘secret gangster life’, but Seungwan doesn’t recall gangsters tossing and turning with such fluffy bed hair, looking so cute and tiny in her favourite oversized hoodie.

Joohyun rouses to the sound of gentle clinking and running water. 

The faint scent of alcohol and detergent seeps into her nose and she yawns, trying to engulf herself in the toasty heat radiating across her body from– not her hoodie. Glancing down, she realises she doesn’t own the waffle beige pajama pants currently hugging her legs either.

Oh? 

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, the older girl shifts off the sofa and grabs her own denim shorts from the floor beside her.

Minutes later, socked feet pad over to the girl in the kitchen, elbow-deep in sudsy water. Seungwan acts surprised when Joohyun hops onto the counter next to the sink. 

“Morning, unnie,” she chirps, “did you sleep well?”

Joohyun hums an affirmative and nothing more, but the other girl already senses the multitude of questions running through her head.

“It’s okay, unnie,” she laughs sheepishly, causing an eyebrow to perk up. She gestures to the hoodie swallowing Joohyun’s petite frame. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. I even let you choose which of my pants you wanted.”

“Oh,” comes the reply. “What happened? Kinda hard to remember.”

Seungwan just smiles down. “I wouldn’t be surprised, unnie. You really went ham last night. I didn’t think you had it in you. It was fun to watch.”

Joohyun scoffs, running delicate fingers through disheveled waves. She pauses to watch the younger rinsing out the empty Hite Jinro bottles and stacking them upside down on the dish rack. “Why did you let me sleep? I could– I should’ve gone home.”

The girl shoots a quick glance in her direction, eyes widening at the way Joohyun’s bare thighs press together in her line of sight. She gulps and flutters a few blinks, shifting her attention back to the glass and sponge. “It– it wasn’t safe so late, even for a cab. It’s fine though,” she quickly adds, “Seul’s bus only arrives this evening, and Yerimie texted this morning saying she ate through Saeron’s fridge so she’s coming home tonight. So it wasn’t like you were intruding or anything.”

Joohyun suppresses a slight grin at the girl’s rosy ears. She plucks a freshly rinsed glass from Seungwan’s slippery grip.

“How do you get these so sparkly, Wan?” She inspects it like an artefact, completely changing the pace and throwing the junior off guard. “You could sell this to a museum, I bet.” 

“I’m a barista, remember? It’s kinda the other third of my job.” Seungwan chuckles at the thought of her scratched up Ikea glasses in glass displays of their own, with fanatics fawning and taking pictures. 

She racks the last glass and dries her hands. “Come on, unnie. We’re running a bit late. I know you can’t function without your caffeine so it’ll have to be campus coffee today.”

Joohyun’s eyes double in size and she claps. “Really? Wow I love that–”

Seungwan whips around to narrow her eyes.

“–you’re willing to lower your standards for me.” 

“Thought so.”

. . . . .

[1:00 p.m] Son Seungwan stares at her strawberry-cream sandwich as her brain flicks through memories of last night. 

. . . . . 

“Yah,” Yerim fakes a punch right at Seungwan’s face, immediately flinging the girl from her spiraling thoughts. “Hell-o? Son Seung-wan re-port to base im-me-di-ate-ly,” she announces robotically, mimicking speaking into a walkie talkie. 

“Huh? Yerimie?”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “ Finally. You good? You’ve been spaced out since lit this morning.”

She doesn’t get to ask why she saw her and Joohyun stumbling in through the fire exit twenty minutes late before three people– including the very person in question– are making their way over to the table.

Two trays set down on either side of Seungwan and one beside Yerim. They try not to drool at the sight of the fancy dishes; grilled beef simmered in sukiyaki broth, steaming chicken curry rice, golden-brown battered tempura udon accompanied by side snacks like cubed fruit and matcha ice cream. And don’t even start on the cream-topped, sprinkled drinks.

Because of the sheer number of study sessions they’ve organised, both parties quickly became more comfortable around each other.

“Hello,” Jennie greets while finding the perfect angle to Instagram her lunch. “You were gone a while Yerim-ah. Did you miss us?”

“Pshh, as if.” The girl tries to sound nonchalant but the excitement in her eyes is impossible to mask.

“Sure, kid,” Jennie smirks, and Yerim immediately breaks the fluster building inside her with that stupid bus joke Seungwan’s heard a thousand times. 

Still, it gets the laughter pouring in.

Seungwan is internally awe-stricken. Yerimie is a freaking natural.

The table dissolves into mundane chatter, everyone eager to catch up with what each other’s done over the long weekend. Movies are discussed, restaurants are rated and stories are exchanged. 

The voices fade into background noise that eventually falls right back as Seungwan starts to wonder things. Silly things. 

From across her, she follows Joohyun’s steady hand, deftly gripping the springy udon between chopsticks and masterfully twirling them into the spoon for the perfect mouthful. She remembers that fist punching Lucas in the nose, remembers the lipstick bruises staining sharp knuckles, and then she wonders if that’s the first time something’s ever made her physically violent. 

Then her gaze discreetly travels to Joohyun’s lips as she chews. Seungwan wonders the worst thing that has ever come from a mouth as pretty as hers. She wonders if she knows that she tightens the clamp around her bruised heart every time she calls her ‘Wan’, wants to know what it’d feel like to–

“Um, Seungwan?”

The poor kid is only just now realising her daydream is sitting right across her, talking to her roommate and best friend. “You’re right. She’s really spaced out today, huh.” She aims a coy smile at a hapless Seungwan, watching as rouge scribbles across those milky cheeks. “Is something wrong, Seungwan?”

“No, no! I’m fine!” she laughs, nibbling on the corner of her sandwich. “I’m just a little tired I guess.”

“Duh,” Sooyoung casually blurts. “Who knows what time you guys ended up sleeping last night.” 

Jennie flinches to interject with some random statement to shut her the hell up but the cat’s already out of the bag.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yerim cocks her head so hard she looks like a right-angle ruler. Jennie sighs at their idiot friend. Joohyun stays silent but her eyes twinkle mischievously, chin poised on an open palm. 

Seungwan can’t breathe, she can’t look away, and she can’t move to help Yerim pick her jaw off the ground.

She can’t process any of it.

Not when Joohyun looks that pretty just… being.

. . . . . 

[7:00 p.m] Seulgi barges in and immediately starts handing out little freebies and trinkets she’d acquired from her weekend dance trip. Her roommates are smitten with studio keychains, logo-embroidered plush face towels and a singular roll of toe-wrap tape.

. . . . .

“Wan-ah, what the heck? She spent the night?” Seulgi frantically points at the now cluttered sofa. “On that?” 

Yerim nods solemnly, putting on her best betrayed expression. “And I heard it from Sooyoung unnie. The betrayal is real right now.”

The dancer perks up slightly. “Sooyoungie? How is she?”

The youngest laughs. “Right, how could I forget you guys are practically dating right now. ”

Seungwan reassures her with a pat on the back and a sly wink. “She’s fine, Seul. Miss her much?” 

The girl hastily splutters a denial but the dust of pink settled in her cheeks tells quite a different story.

Yerim gets them back on track, waving a towel between her two friends’ faces. “Hello, Joohyun unnie plus Seungwan unnie? In the same room? Unattended?”

Seungwan gives up with tantrum legs kicking into the air to relieve the embarrassing heat in her face. “Ahh, it was nothing!!!” 

“Wan, there are four Hite bottles in the dishrack and it was nothing??” Seulgi asks suspiciously. “Does she know that?” 

[thepeakygurl]

16 Shots

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word count: 1073

Warnings: Mention of violence

Prompts: Y/N is taken hostage by a rivalry gang and Thomas goes to save you.

My first Peaky Blinders/Thomas Shelby scenario ever! I really hope you like it and hope it meets your expectations! Please don’t hesistate to give me any feedbacks. Also, my first language is not English so if there’s any grammatical mistakes please pardon me! ( requested by @irishwhiskeys thank you so much for giving me the chance to write this piece ✨ )

“Thomas, you are here!”

Polly’s voice echoed in Thomas’ head as he entered the room. An imperceptible sighed slipped from his mouth while he was cautiously taking off his jacket. If questioned just minutes before about his preference of spending the rest of the evening alone or with his family, he would have certainly chosen the second one.

However, now that every single Shelby was standing in each corner of the living room, with such a sad expression that could have saddened the happiest human being in the world, he had his doubts about that reckless and hypothetical decision. “Did Arthur attempt to kill himself again?” He jokingly asked to ease up that damn the tension. Suddenly even the room felt too small for all the concern that was in the air as a mass of black clouds in the middle of a typical day in Birmingham, but this felt nothing like a typical day.

Arthur was not laughing or screaming at him, he was sitting at the table, giving all his attention to the cigarette he kept playing with. John not so close to him, standing tall while holding Esme’s hand so tight as if he was trying to hold onto her. Thomas looked at Arthur and instantly knew that things were worse than he was imagining “Is anyone going to fucking tell me what’s going on?!” He burst out and only then Polly stood up. Her hair was a mess, she was clearly worried and if Thomas didn’t know her any well, he would have swore she shredded some tears. How of all of her expectations she became fond of you.

She handed him over a piece of wrinkled piece of paper, the same one that its content turned the Shelby’s living room into a mass funeral “They took her Tommy...” she said, her voice so broken and soft that Tommy couldn’t even read the piece of paper his eyes went instead across the room, looking for Ada and when he finally saw her, standing and with her eyes achingly looking at him, he knew it was you.

For a small amount of seconds, Thomas forgot how to speak. His throat was aching as if someone was trying to choke him and his heart has never ached like this before. He quickly read the note and he knew that only someone dumb and inexperienced could have thrown such a move. He let the piece of paper slip out of his hands as he quickly put on his jacket. “Let us come with you” Arthur said, but he didn’t stand up, he knew Thomas would told him to sit back down

“Instead of standing here like some sorts or middle aged men you should have gone after her as soon as you read this fucking piece of shit” he screamed at him as he was loading his gun that he then carefully handed and pointed out at the all room “If y/n dies, so are you” he almost whispered it out, but he was sure that even those words said in a slightly whisper was enough for his family to know that someone today was really going to die.

Lately he had received news of a new group of reckless children that were trying to play gangsters. He never looked at them as a threat, if anything he was amused, almost impressed and saddened by how someone’s ambition could aim at just being a gangster. It was dark outside, the rain was making the road slippery. A sense of guilt started to fill his bones as he got into his car and started to drive towards the pub, where the paper indicated him to go. He told you a million times that this life was not meant for you, that you were meant to live a peaceful and meaningful life, perhaps apart, but you and your stubbornness couldn’t just let it go. You have to prove yourself, started to work with the family and put yourself at risk. He couldn’t believe he did that to you, he couldn’t believed you were taken hostage because of his own ambition and pride. He felt his hands shake onto the wheel of the car, which made him grab onto it tight as he approached the pub. Stepping out of the car, Thomas didn’t take out his gun, he instead put his hand inside his pockets as he entered the pub. The place usually filled with laughter and tipsy people was now empty, except for the bartender behind the bar, held at gun point by some kid that could have honestly have the same age as Finn. Such a pity, he thought.

His eyes went across the room were a smiling young gentleman welcomed him. “We were honestly starting to think that this one wasn’t really worth it for you” he said in a laughter, looking over his should where you were also being held at gun point, some man with a dreadful smell covering had his arm around your throat and his gun pointed at your head. When your eyes met Thomas’ you could tell he was angry, but you also felt something else, something his eyes have never told you before. Thomas attention was once again reversed to the young gentleman “I usually attend business not blackmails” he said, he had to use all his self control in order to maintain his calm and not killing the bastard right away “Do you want to talk about business or can we go?” He proceeded to ask.

The young gentleman laughed again, an horrible laugh that made both Thomas and y/n almost rolling their eyes. “Mr. Shelby you should know best. You had your chance to consider my offer, now the offer is out of the table”

Thomas chuckled, his hand came out of his pockets which made everyone tense, the young gentleman looked at the man holding on y/n and the second one proceeded on loading his gun “Gentlemen” Thomas said to gain their attention, as he showed the cigarette in his hand that he then lit, as he thought before reckless and inexperienced they were indeed. “Now then, I will give you my offer. You will let the girl go and you will take your shit and your little milk drinker gang’s shit and you will vanish. How does that sound eh?” He said with the cigarette slowly burning out in his lips.

“Not good enough Mr. Shelby, not good enough” the young gentleman responded to the offer and he then handed out his gun pointed directly to Thomas, your heart stopped beating for a second as you saw the bastard loading his gun, but Thomas didn’t flinch, not even when the door burst open and Arthur came in all smiling “Starting a party without me I see? How rude”

While everyone was now holding their gun at Arthur, John was successful into entering from the back silently, he was just behind you and the man which he then grabbed by the collar and knocked him out with just a punch “I think they forgot to send our invitation” he then said, he looked at you and said something about getting out of there but you couldn’t. The room burst into chaos. Suddenly the kid threatening the live of the bartender was now being beaten by Arthur, the guy John punched was now coming to his senses and John couldn’t help himself but starting to play again, while Thomas was trying to take the gun out of the other’s one hand. He succeeded on the first try as the young gentleman was now trembling in fear trying to hold his tears. But this pitiful sight was not enough, Thomas felt all his anger coming back, all his self control leaving his body as he started to hit him with his very own gun. You looked at the scene, incapable of moving a single muscle. That was the kind of situation that Thomas didn’t want you to see, this wicked side of him that he was so afraid to show you was now revealed. Drowning in its own blood, you reckoned he was just a kid, a kid playing adult and you couldn’t help now but running towards Thomas and begging him to stop. Thomas however didn’t hear you, he was too busy taking the life out of the piece of garbage that tried to take you from him. And you saw it, you saw the life of the guy coming out of his body, begging for mercy so you had to kneel down and scream his name, forcing his face in your hands “It’s over Thomas, we are alright” and you specified we, because that was what it was all about. You and him. You were trying to prove yourself to him and he was trying to protect you.

Thomas was breathing heavily now, looking at you as lost as he has ever felt. The thought of loosing and never being able to see you again almost drove him insane. He tried to say something, he really tried to open his mouth and say that he was sorry, that he was desperately sorry, but he didn’t have too as you whispered I know, it’s ok. He stood up, helping you doing the same and here he just hold you onto his arms, as tight as possible. His face hiding in your neck while he allowed himself to kiss your skin and he sighed, relieved that he could do such a thing. You smiled again his chest.

“You lovebirds, can we go home now?” Asked Arthur, his hand socked in blood as he looked at you two with a big smile on his face. You laughed a little while Thomas was giving him a hard stare.

“Get yourself a room eh?” Were John’s word of wisdom as he and Arthur left the pub.

Thomas chuckled “Maybe we should get a room." He said and has soon as your cheeks turned into a bright red he laughed as well softly.

“Maybe we should” you whispered in a breath and once again, you saw a new emotion on Thomas’s eyes. Something you couldn’t quite describe just yet, but you knew it would lead to something quite interesting.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage (1/1)

Title: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: General TFA and AC Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 8109 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: For Tumblr’s @superhero-daugthers11 as a pinch hit for the Steggy Secret Santa. Steve and Peggy, back in the US after the war, go undercover as a newlywed couple to find a Hydra scientist hiding in the suburbs.

A/N: This is 100% inspired by several things. 1. One of my all-time favorite X-Files Episodes “Arcadia” 2. The first episode of WandaVision 3. My giftee saying she liked the idea of Steggy married/dating and working together for SHIELD, and 4. Getting another Steggy Bingo Prompt in there… sentence prompt: “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?”

Please assume/add in your headcanons for the following: Steve was rescued shortly after the Valkyrie crash and OBVIOUSLY has pursued a romantic relationship with Peggy. Due to this, the events of the Agent Carter series have NOT happened. They’re both working for the SSR, tying up loose ends from the war.  

Easiest way to see what I see is to imagine Steve and Peggy in the Petrie’s house from the Dick Van Dyke Show… but if you’re not familiar with that, the house from the first episode of WandaVision will do nicely.

~*~

Steve turned from the suitcase where he was lifting folded shirts out. “Just… consider this a test run.”

Peggy smirked, leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom. She held out her hand, one of Steve’s socks dangling from her two fingers. “What, for me finding your stinky socks on the bathroom floor? Strike one, Rogers.”

Peggy tossed the sock to him, moving into the small bedroom with its double twin beds. She sat heavily on the side of hers, shaking her head. “If this is anything like moving, I’ll never do it again. I’m exhausted.”

Steve tucked his shirts away in the drawer, turning back to her, balling the sock up in his hand and tossing it into the hamper in the closet. “Most houses don’t have top of the line surveillance equipment we would have to hide in the roses.”

“The neighbors are already peeking out,” Peggy said, kicking her shoes off and sliding them under the edge of the bed with her toe. “I saw some from the back door peeking over while I was finishing in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ll have visitors tomorrow.”

Steve grabbed his empty suitcase from the bed and slipped it in the closet, shutting the door. “I’m surprised we didn’t have any today, what with all the commotion of moving in.”

Peggy shrugged, bouncing back to lie on the bed. “In my experience, deep cover Hydra scientists trying to hide out in suburban communities don’t just knock on your door and announce themselves.”

Steve chuckled, moving over to sit on the side of her bed at her hip. He gently took her left hand, running his thumb over the fake wedding band she wore. Peggy smiled up at him. “You know, Angie told me you’d asked her about my ring size.” Steve’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, and she could see his mind trying to scramble to salvage the surprise. “Oh, I know it’s coming, Steve. Don’t try to pretend it isn’t.”

He smiled softly. “I was hoping to surprise you is all.”

“You will,” she whispered, shifting to hold his hand tight. “When, where, how… I’ll try to avoid using my super spy powers on you to divine those things.” She reached her other hand to slide up his arm. “I’m an inpatient woman, so don’t make me wait too long.”

Steve smiled wolfishly at her, leaning over and putting his weight on his left hand, trapping her under him. “I mean, this counts, right?” He leaned down, letting Peggy traverse the last few centimeters to bring their lips together, kissing her sweetly. “This counts as being married?”

She chuckled as she kissed him, reaching one arm up to twine in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Absolutely does not.”

He pulled back a bit, teasing. “I mean, I am sleeping right over there…”

“In your own bed,” Peggy pushed them up to sitting, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

“And it would be so easy to just push them together.”

She shook her head, teasing, despite the fact that the idea seemed like a good one to her. “Scandalous.”

Steve kissed her gently again. “Well, I suppose I should at least pretend to let you get a good night’s sleep?”

Peggy nodded, smiling. “We’ve got a bit of work ahead of us, I think. Very few men trying to hide from prosecution for war crimes make themselves known.”

“Good night then,” he kissed her softly and pushed away from her, “Mrs. Harper.”

Peggy tipped her head with a sultry smile. “Mr. Harper.”

~*~

Peggy moved the eggs around the pan, eyes tight on them as Steve walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Don’t distract me,” she mumbled. “The second I look away they burn.”

He watched her for a moment as she gently stirred the scrambled eggs, eyes intent as he’d ever seen them. “Stove burning too hot?”

“Simply out of practice, I’m afraid. Already ruined four eggs this way.” She pulled the pan off the heat and separated the eggs on to two plates. “Anything I’ve eaten for the last few years has come from a mess, out of a can, or from the automat.” She set the empty pan down and snapped off the heat. “Why you ever married me I’ll never know.”

He moved over, taking both plates and kissing her on the cheek. “Why, I like it so much, I might do it twice.”

Peggy chuckled, moving the pan to the sink and running water in it. “Easy there, soldier. We haven’t made it through this mission yet.” She peeked over at his silence, then turned around all the way, meeting his intent stare. “It’s the apron, isn’t it? I’ve gone too far?”

Steve watched, hands still full of plates, as she spun in her dress, looking for something out of place while her perfect curls bounced around her face like something out of a beauty magazine. He smiled, “No, no- I just…” he cleared his throat, moving to set the plates on the small table in the kitchen. He took a gentle deep breath and moved over to her. “It’s all a little… too perfect, you know? Not quite us, I think, but like something out of a movie.”

Peggy bit her lip, stepping closer to him so he could wrap her in his arms. “This whole thing is a bit spot on.” She played with the edge of his cardigan, the blue doing amazing things for his eyes. “But needs must when trying to build a trap.”

He moved his hand to trace over her chin, feeling content and happy despite the threat. “Will you cook me eggs after this is all over?”

Peggy would her arms around his neck, humming happily. “If you’re a good boy.” After a moment, she pushed back, centering herself. “Though you haven’t eaten them, yet, so you are taking a large chance there, darling.” She pushed him towards the table and followed shortly, two mugs of coffee in her hands.

“Peg—”

“Betty,” she demanded, stopping and looking at him. “I agree that this little fantasy is a bit of a slippery slope for the both of us, but we really must start doing better.” She sat and slid his coffee to him, looking him in eyes pointedly. “Roger.”

Steve nodded, taking the coffee. “Right. Betty,” he paused, the name not rolling off his tongue easily, “I can help with the cooking.”

“And risk someone seeing?” She picked up her fork, face stern. “From this moment on, no matter what, we’re happy newlyweds Roger and Betty Harper. I’m a stay-at-home wife who loves to knit and worked in a bullet factory during the war, you’re a veteran and you do figures at an accounting firm in the city. Perfect little wife, doting husband. Suburban life to a ridiculous, stereotypical T, got it?”

He held out his hand and she took it, looking at her plate rather than at him. “Hey,” he waited until she lifted her eyes. “I was just enjoying it too much. I know our cover. I’m in this one hundred percent, okay?”

Peggy held his hand and squeezed lightly, the smile returning to her face. “Yes, dear.”

~*~

By mid-morning they’d had five of the neighboring wives stop in to introduce themselves. Most were kind, young, gregarious and a bit overly excited to get to know them once Steve showed his face.

“You should stay in the kitchen when the next one comes over,” Peggy complained, sitting heavily on their small couch. “I can’t stand another wide-eyed housewife dazzled by your smile.”

Steve laughed, sitting next to her. “There’s only one housewife I want dazzled by my smile.”

Peggy collapsed into his lap, looking up at him. “She’s a little too tired to be dazzled right now. Somehow social pleasantries are more exhausting than the battlefield.” She closed her eyes, letting Steve’s fingers running through her hair lull her into a sense of calm. “Anything on any of the cameras?”

“No,” Steve didn’t slow his movements as his hand combed through her hair. He’d spent his morning when he wasn’t meeting neighbors “working,” keeping an eye on all of the cameras and equipment they’d set up. “So far just people mowing their lawns and taking walks.” She could feel his chuckle. “Not that I expected to see anyone building a bomb in their back yard…”

She reached up a hand, gently hitting him in the chest. “Don’t be flippant about it. Some people are quite stupid.”

The doorbell rang again and Peggy hoisted herself from Steve’s embrace, straightening her dress and forcing a smile on her face. “You look perfect,” Steve reassured.

She huffed, her eyebrows bouncing high on her forehead as she moved to the front door. “Hello?” She asked, her tone changing as she pulled the door open.

Standing across from her was a young woman, similar in age to Peggy, with sharp features and immaculately styled blonde hair. “Oh, hi! I hope I’m not interrupting?” Her Midwest accent was sharp, just a little too bubbly as she held out the dish she was holding. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Peggy swept back, opening her arm. “Please come in. I’m Betty and this is my husband, Roger.”

“Dottie Underwood,” she said quickly, smiling back and forth between the both of them. “I brought you some cookies, I baked them fresh last night, and if I leave them around the house I’m afraid my father just eats them all.”

Peggy carefully took the dish, smiling as she set it down. “They look wonderful, thank you.”

Dottie’s eyes swept around the house, somewhat more intent than a simple curious glance. “You’re quite welcome. How are you settling?”

Steve stood tall, smiling brightly as he moved next to Peggy, gently laying his hand on her back. “Well enough, people have been very kind. I think we’ve met most of the neighborhood by now, haven’t we, honey?”

Peggy giggled, leaning into his side and watching how Dottie tried to keep her smile straight. “Oh, at least the whole street, I’m sure.”

“That’s wonderful.” Dottie smiled brightly. “I was hoping maybe you’d come over for dinner tonight? I live with my father and I’m afraid he doesn’t go out much anymore, but he does enjoy meeting everyone.”

Steve and Peggy shared a short look. To the average person it seemed just a husband and wife consulting one another, to the trained eye, the conversation that happened was much more in-depth and quick. “Well,” Steve replied quickly, “I think we’d be delighted.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Dottie replied, her smile growing wider, eyes sparkling as she moved toward the door. “I’ll go tell father, he’ll be so pleased.”

Dottie smiled at them, the three standing quietly until Steve nudged Peggy I the back. “Oh, yes, is there anything we can bring?” Peggy asked, trying to hide her forgetfulness with a fluster.

Dottie laughed lightly, moving towards the door. “Just yourselves. Six o’clock, sharp.” She stopped, hand on the knob. “We’re the little blue house, 1013, just on the other side of the street.”

Once she was out, Peggy scooted to the window, watching as Dottie meandered down the driveway and sidewalk, eyes never leaving her until she disappeared into her own home. “Did she strike you as…”

“Trying to hard?” Steve supplied, looking over her shoulder. “Suspicious?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, the agent emerging from the housewife. “Do we have a camera on their house?”

Steve smiled. “Rosebush 3.”

~*~

“What do you mean you invited them over?” Fennhoff bellowed, slamming his fist on the small kitchen table. “What about in hiding do you not understand?”

Dottie rolled her eyes at him, sitting across the table. “Sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open, Papa.” The title dripped from her lips, sarcastic and biting. She pulled the notebook he was scribbling in away, forcing him to look at her. “If we want to fit in, we need to get to know these people, make them want to help and protect the old man and his daughter.”

He grabbed the notebook back. “We should stay inside.”

“You can’t build a new identity by staying inside you helpless oaf.” Dottie stood, pushing away from the table and letting the legs of the chair scrape along the floor. She rounded the small table, leaning over the scientist’s shoulder, eyes dark. “My job is to protect you until Hydra builds itself back up and is ready for you to come back. You trust me, or you get caught. Your call.”

He pursed his lips tight, unhappy. “We should be at their home, going through their things.”

Dottie made a noise in the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes and moved away. “Like I haven’t thought of that.” She moved away, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ve already told them you’re unwell. At some point we’ll make your excuses and you can go see what you can find.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am not the one who is a spy, you are.”

Dottie smiled like a snake, her teeth sharp and gleaming in the light. “You’re whatever I tell you you are until this whole thing is over.”

~*~

Steve looked at the young man across the dinner table, knowing he was lying. As hard as he’d tried to get in the Army, there had been more people trying just as hard, if not harder, to get out of it. “4F you say?”

“Yeah,” Dan from across the street cleared his throat. “Asthma. Wouldn’t let me enlist over a little thing like that.”

Dinner was a strained affair. Steve and Peggy saw upon their arrival that they hadn’t been the only people invited. Dottie has also invited her neighbors, Dan and Laura Smythe, to try to help them get to know people. Though they tried to keep the conversation moving, it was stilted and uncomfortable. Dottie, all smiles, kept trying to shift topics of conversation while her father sat grumpily at the head of the table.

“Beastly affair, that war.” Dottie’s feigned sadness was easy to see through. “It’s how I lost my Earnie.”

Laura wasn’t quite as sharp as Peggy and fell for the faux sadness, letting her hand rest on the woman’s arm. “Your beau?”

“We were engaged,” Dottie continued, sniffling dramatically. “He was a pilot with the 107th, got shot down over enemy territory.”

Steve and Peggy shared a look. There hadn’t been any pilots in the 107th, definitely none named Earnie. A quick glance at the older Underwood revealed nothing. He had no feelings about the loss of the man who supposedly was going to marry his daughter, which struck them both as odd.

Laura, however, was eating it up. “Was he one of the soldier’s that Captain America saved in that amazing rescue? Didn’t he save nearly that whole battalion?”

Dottie shook her head. “No, he was lost just before that, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, anyway.” Steve said with a bold confidence that made every face turn and look at him.

Peggy’s jaw tightened as she turned to him, putting a hand to his arm. “Darling.”

“No, you know how I feel about this, Betty.” Steve turned and patted her hand, every inch the dismissive husband. “I was out there, fighting for my life, fighting to get back to you, and they parade this guy around in tights on newsreels?”

“Laura and I saw him at one of those USO shows,” Dan started, causing Peggy to squeeze Steve’s arm in concern that their ruse was about to fall apart, “I swear I saw wires. Guy was an actor and a hack.”

“Right?” Steve threw up his hand, nodding appreciatively at the man. “No way he was that strong.”

Laura giggled a bit, leaning towards Dottie. “He was quite handsome, though, don’t you think?”

Dottie, hoping to defuse some of the tension she could feel radiating around the table, just laughed along. “Oh yes, very handsome.” Dottie turned her smile across the table. “Did you ever get to see him, Betty?”

Peggy folded her hands under the table. “Oh, a few times.” She snuck a look at Steve then leaned forward, whispering towards the women though she knew full well everyone could hear her. “Those tights were quite the uniform!”

The women giggled, Dan pressed his lips into a tight line, and Steve had to bite his tongue to keep a straight face. The elder Underwood, for his part, was growing more and more upset.

“That man won them the war,” the elder Underwood grumbled.

“Impossible.” Steve turned to him, almost enjoying the part he was playing. “Hollywood smoke and mirrors. I was out there and I never saw him or that shield. Not once.”

Underwood pushed himself away from the table, his face growing red. “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?” He stood, leaning over Peggy and Steve with enough menace that Steve put his arm across Peggy, ready to move her behind him if the man became any more aggressive. “You come into my house and you say these things?”

Steve had been having fun with their plan to insult his alter ego, see if their hosts were sympathetic, showed any leanings to the Axis powers, but this hit home. He knew people had idolized him, and as much as that had made him uncomfortable, he understood how important it was to have a symbol of hope in such a bleak time.

Before Steve could reply and apologize the man stormed off. Dottie stood, stuttering an apology, and followed him into the house.

“Well, I for one am with you,” Dan said, raising his fork and diving back into his dinner. “Man was a fraud.”

Peggy grabbed Steve’s hand under the table and squeezed.

~*~

“What was that back there?” Dottie demanded in a hushed voice once she’d closed the door to Fennhoff’s room behind them.

“Distraction,” he said sharply, his accent becoming more pronounced. “You want distraction, you get distraction.”

Dottie huffed, crossing her arms. “And what am I supposed to tell them now?”

“That your father is a great patriot. That he needs his rest. You say whatever you say while I go pretend to be spy.” Fennhoff waved her away and opened the window in his room, grumbling about how he was supposed to slip out. “Lock the door.”

~*~

Steve stood as Dottie joined them back at the table. “I should go apologize.”

“No, no,” Dottie shooed him back to his seat. “My father gets grumpy sometimes. He just needed to take his pills and lay down for a spell.” She sat herself back down and laid her napkin on her lap with deliberate flair. “It’ll all be forgotten after a quick nap, I promise.”

“Still, I’d feel better if I could,” Steve reluctantly sat, rearranging his own napkin.

“I’m sure he’ll be back out in a bit.” She smiled widely, a motion that did not reach her eyes. “He just never misses dessert!”

~*~

Anyone fluent in Russian would have been scandalized at the string of words coming from Fennhoff’s lips as he snuck into the back of the Harper home.

“Don’t even lock their doors,” Fennhoff mumbled as he slipped in their back door. He moved carefully through the dark kitchen, futilely opening and closing cabinets. He did not expect to find anything in the home of that vapid man who didn’t believe Captain America was real.

He’d seen the damage that man could do with his own eyes. Anyone who believed Captain America hadn’t won the war for the Allied forces was either dimwitted, a fool, or both.

He tried to stay quiet as he moved through the house, but there wasn’t much light and even less to see that was interesting. The house was only sparsely decorated with few, if any, places to hide things. He made his rounds quickly, opening and closing closets and doors and saw nothing that would make him think these people were anything other than what they said they were: boring American suburbanites.

He stopped on his way out and opened the small broom closet he’d neglected on the way in, sighing when there was nothing more than a broom, mop, and bucket there.

“Dumb woman spy,” he mumbled, letting himself out quietly.

~*~

“Next time we’ll have you over,” Peggy said, holding both of Dottie’s hands at the door. “Dinner was simply marvelous.”

“Oh, shucks,” Dottie took one hand to bat the compliment away. “It was so lovely to get to know you and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth crooked up sadly. “Please give my apologies to your father.”

“No need,” she reached out, stroking Steve’s shoulder in a motion that was just slightly more than neighborly. “He’s a stubborn old man and you are a great war hero, Mr. Harper. You’re allowed a difference of opinion, especially since you were there.”

“All the same,” Steve stepped back out of her reach, taking Peggy’s hand and moving away. He felt like if he didn’t escape, they’d be exchanging pleasantries all night. “Have a great night.”

“You too!” Dottie called, watching from the door as they turned.

Steve pressed his hand to Peggy’s back, pushing her down the pavement just a little faster. “She’s still watching,” he mumbled. “Gosh, such lovely neighbors around here, don’t you think, honey?” he let his voice drift louder.

“Absolutely, darling. I’m so excited to get to know them all. Maybe join the Women’s Auxiliary.” Peggy leaned closer to Steve, her voice lower now, “Is she still watching? My face hurts from smiling.”

“Few more feet, dear,” he whispered. He leaned down, “I think Dan and Laura are out there now,” he pointed to his ear, signaling he could hear them talking, “Want to give them a show?”

Peggy raised her eyebrow, the false suburban smile she’d been sporting morphing into a smirk he was much more used to seeing on her face. “Show?”

He led her up the steps, stopping to dig the keys out of his pocket. Once he did, he reached out and unlocked the door, pushing it open. Before she could step in, he swept her off her feet, carrying her like she was a brand-new bride. Peggy squeaked, grabbing on to his shoulders more out of surprise than fear that he would drop her on the front porch.

She laughed. “This is what you had in mind?”

He leaned forward, kissing her gently. “Gotta sell that newlywed cover,” he whispered against her lips. “They watching?”

Peggy shifted her head as he turned them a bit, his lips on hers again. Peggy squinted, making it look like her eyes were closed. She didn’t normally like to do double duty while Steve was kissing her, but he managed to avoid distracting her too badly. She could see the Smythe’s and Dottie on the porch, eyes glues to them. From the window, the elder Underwood peaked out. Peggy dragged her lips away. “All watching. And slightly scandalized.”

“They’ll be very scandalized in a minute,” he mumbled, kissing down her neck.

Peggy hit him playfully in the shoulder. “Barbarian!” She laughed as he growled in her ear. “Inside at once!” She kicked a bit as he straightened up, laughing as he bounced her in his arms. Steve made a show of almost losing his balance and nearly dropping her as he stepped over the threshold for their audience. For good measure he kicked the door closed, wishing he could see all of their faces.

He’d absolutely go back and check the surveillance tapes just to see what they looked like.

He turned, putting Peggy down and pressing her up against the door, letting his lips meet hers again. “That was fun.”

She hummed happily, but pushed him away. “Quite, but we still have work to do.” She moved past him, then stopped as she flipped on the light. She held out her hand, then pointed. “And you made fun of me for vacuuming us out before we left.”

“You were wearing pearls and an evening dress.” Steve pointed out, bending low to look at the fresh footprints that showed against the new, freshly cleaned nap of the carpet. “What do you think?”

“Man’s shoe, fairly large.” Peggy moved around, following the path. “Came from the kitchen, so… in through the back door.”

“Looks like he took a peek in each room,” Steve added, opening the doors and following the trail, “then back through the kitchen to go out.”

“You think they found…” Peggy started, but didn’t finish, following Steve into the kitchen and watching as he opened the closet door.

“Doubt it, everything’s exactly as I left it, including that little bit of flour by the wall.” He smiled up at her, trying to show off the tricks he’d slowly been learning from her since they’d been working together stateside. He warmed at bit at her smile, then moved the mop, broom, and bucket. With a firm push to one side of the back wall, it spun, sweeping the flour on the floor into a wide, tell-tale circle and revealing that the closet was actually three times the size, hiding a small bank of monitors and recording equipment. “Shall we?”

They both slipped in the small space, Steve on the stool he occupied for most of the day while surveilling, Peggy peering over his shoulder as he found the reel trained on their back door and rolled it back. It was fuzzy in the darkness, but the figure creeping through their rosebushes seemed quite familiar. “Is that Underwood?” Peggy asked, waiting for Steve to roll the tape back and forth until they had a fairly clear picture.

“Looks like it,” Steve mumbled, marking down the time and reel for future reference. “What do you think he’s looking for?”

“Same as we are,” Peggy said quietly, slipping from the closet to lean on the door jamb. “If they’re in hiding, they’re looking out for anyone wanting to find them.”

Steve reloaded some of the reels, marking others and setting the film aside to review tomorrow. Peggy watched him work, smiling as he rolled up his sleeves, concentration fully on his task. She leaned on the doorway, slipping off her heels and content to just be for the moment. Steve slipped out of the hidden space, pushing the fake wall back in place and sweeping the flour back into an indistinguishable line along the bottom of the wall.

“Do you think it will be like this?” Peggy mused, watching as he ran a damp cloth along the visible floor of the closet, hiding the existence of the flour even further to sell their ruse.

“Do I think what will be like what?” Steve asked, standing and laying the wet dishcloth over the back of a chair to dry.

Peggy bounced over to him on her toes, hands holding her heels behind her back, hips swaying and swinging her skirt around her in a manner that was much more carefree than Steve had seen her in a long time. “Do you think our marriage will be like this? Domestic bliss and snogging against the front door one minute and international espionage the next?”

Steve tilted his head, his forehead creasing in thought as he wrapped his arms around her. “You know, it probably will. Though I’d like to say we’ll need much less surveillance at our house.”

“Our house…” she mused, smiling widely. “Kind of thrilling, isn’t it?” Peggy wrapped her arms around him with a sly smile, heels still dangling from her fingers.

His brows knit together for just a brief moment, the concern replaced by amusement on his face. “I don’t think life with you will ever be boring, dear.” He leaned down, kissing her gently.

Peggy leaned back, eyes still closed, a smile on her lips. She blinked her eyes open, half lidded and dreamy. “What say you to pushing the beds together tonight, Mr. Harper?”

He kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.” Without warning, Steve bent his knees, grabbing behind her thighs and lifting her up.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, a sly smile on her face. “You enjoy showing off like that, don’t you?”

“For you?” His smile lit up his face. “Absolutely.”

Her face went blank, her eyes darting around the room as if people were there that might overhear her. “Small confession.” She leaned close to him, eyes sincere. “If, tomorrow, you woke up and were that 98 pound asthmatic man I first met, I’d love you all the same. But, and I’ll deny this until the day I die to anyone else,” her eyes grew mischievous, “I like it when you show off very much. Please don’t ever stop.”

He laughed, full and hearty, as he started to move toward the bedroom. Peggy bounced her heel off his lower back, trying to turn him like a horse. “Ah! Back, soldier. We’ve got doors to lock!”

Steve laughed, turning back and shifting her to his hip so he could see and secure the house without having to put her down. “Yes, ma’am!”

~*~

“They are not spies,” Fennhoff insisted, pushing past Dottie.

She shook her head, closing the cabinet door with more force than necessary. The kitchen was still in a state from the dinner party and as usual she was left to clean everything up. “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. You just didn’t know where to look.”

The man grumbled and disappeared down the hall, the sound of his bedroom door slamming and locking echoing through the house.

~*~

The morning sun was bright coming through the front room’s picture window. Steve squinted as he stepped up behind Peggy, wrapping one arm around her waist as his other hand wound around her to offer her the cup of tea he held. “A little sunny, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement as she took and sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving the street where they were staring intently. “See that tabby?”

He followed her line of sight, things clearer as he got used to the brightness, to the small grey cat bouncing up and down the curb across the street outside of Dottie’s house. “I mean, it’s cute, but I don’t think right now is the best time to get a pet, Betty.” A soft humor infused his voice, knowing that Peggy’s plans were far past pets as she stayed intent on the creature.

“Hum, maybe not. But nevertheless, it’s been in and out of our yard, too, and I’ve noticed it doesn’t have a collar.” She let her free hand run over the arm around her waist. “What’s the range on those bugs Howard gave us?”

“With a direct line of sight, 100 yards.” He shrugged, thinking. “Obscured? Maybe 50. Could be more or less depending on what’s between us and it.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her soft scent before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You have a plan.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I have a plan.”

~*~

It started with a small saucer of milk late that morning. Peggy left it on the front stoop and spent a little while just sitting outside next to it, waving at neighbors and smiling. “You haven’t seen that little grey tabby, have you?” she would ask each passing person, concern all over her face, “I got a glimpse of him this morning and I could have sworn he was limping!”

By the afternoon, Steve was trying very hard to keep a straight face as he helped her “search” for the cat in their yard.

Just before dinner, Peggy palmed the small listening device, a thin disk that was barely the size of a quarter, and headed across the street, making tiny whispering and clicking noises, eyes, wide and sad.

Laura Smythe popped her head out of her kitchen window as Peggy knelt next to the storm drain between their house and Dottie’s. “Betty? Are you ok?”

“Oh, fine, Laura!” She stood and waved, her face tight. “I just could have sworn I saw that little grey stray cat and it was limping. I just want to make sure the poor thing is okay.” She huffed and stood, straightening her skirt. “Have you seen him?”

Laura shook her head. “Not since yesterday.” She smiled at Peggy. “So sweet of you to want to try to help him.”

“Well thanks, I—oh!” Peggy turned, eyes set on Dottie’s front yard. With a fake wobble in her heels, she was more adept in running in them than she’d like everyone to know, she darted towards the azalea bush and stopped short. She smiled back at Laura, “I think I’ve got him!” With a smile that had nothing to do with a cat, Peggy pushed her way into the bush and along the front side of the house. She made some noise, swished the plant a few times, and smiled to herself. It was going perfectly.

Dottie was on her porch before Peggy could even catch her breath from the run over, voice loud. “Goodness, Betty, what are you doing?” She demanded, incensed.

Peggy stood, using the ledge of the window to haul herself up and the exaggerated surprise she feigned to hide how she set the small bug in the corner of the sill and the window. “Oh! Dottie I hope I didn’t startle you!”

Dottie, less neighborly than yesterday, started at her. “You did, Betty. Why are you in my bushes?”

Peggy dropped her head, shaking it sadly. “Oh, I just saw that poor neighborhood cat limping this morning and I’ve been trying to get my hands on him and see if he was ok. I could have sworn I saw him over here!” Peggy looked around herself, as if she was just noticing what a mess she made. “Oh, goodness, what have I done? I just don’t think sometimes!”

Dottie couldn’t hide the suspicion on her face, but stepped down and offered Peggy her hand. “Let me help you out.”

“Oh, I am so sorry! Your beautiful flowers!” Peggy brushed the leaves and petals from her dress and gestured towards the slightly rumpled bush. “I’ll pay for any damages, I am so, so very sorry.”

“No need,” Dottie said coolly, her smile never reaching her eyes. “I never liked that one anyway.”

~*~

Steve was still laughing when she made her way back into the house. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny that it must have looked a sight. “You almost done?” She crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile as she leaned against the counter.

He was still catching his breath as he emerged from his small control center in the broom closet, hand pressed to his chest. “Oh… oh that was priceless.”

She eyed him as he moved closer, leaning his hands on the counter on either side of her and looming with a bright smile on his face. Peggy rested her hand on his shoulders, enjoying the closeness. “Yes, but did it work?”

He nodded, reaching up with one hand and picking leaves and petals from her hair. He picked the last one and held the pink petal up for her to see. “It did. Not the clearest sound, but good enough.” He kissed her quickly, a peck full of pride and happiness. “You’re brilliant.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied happily, lifting up on her toes for another brief kiss before she ducked away under his arm. “Then you’re making dinner. I’m simply exhausted from looking for that cat all day!”

~*~

The chatter from the Underwood residence was tinny and quiet, but there wasn’t much to expect from the small transmitter. It did its job and Steve and Peggy could hear clear enough the woman and her father bickering in half sentences. Anytime they were in the back of the house they were out of range, but the front room and kitchen came in clear enough.

“They know they’re being monitored,” Peggy sighed, pulling off her headphones. Dottie’s tone had been harsh and clipped, and more than once her “father” had stopped short mid-sentence, either because he didn’t want to keep talking or because Dottie wanted him stopped.

Steve pulled off his own headphones and leaned back. He tried to stretch but his arms hit the wall of the small closet. “You’re right. They’re far too close lipped.”

“And the language is not nearly familiar enough to be father and daughter,” Peggy muttered, scooting to the side and leaning back onto Steve’s shoulder. His arm would around her immediately, stroking over her upper arm. “I’m not sold that they’re who we’re looking for, but I know they’re not who they say they are.”

Steve tipped his head into hers, cuddling close for a second. “What do you think? Time to turn in?”

She nodded against him “They’ll still be there tomorrow, I suppose.”

~*~

Peggy snuck out of her bed, tiptoeing as she picked up her robe and slippers, trying to avoid waking Steve in the middle of the night.

“Peg?” he murmured, turning.

She stopped, shifting her load to one hand to push his hair out of his eyes with the other as she bent by his bed. “Can’t sleep. Just getting some water.”

He hummed as her fingers moved over his cheek, catching her hand in his and turning his head to kiss her palm. “Don’t be long. You need to rest.”

She smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, sleep already pulling him back. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

Peggy slipped through the bedroom door, closing it behind her before wrapping herself in the robe and putting the slippers on her feet. There was a chill in the air, enough to make her wrap her arms around herself as she moved through the living room and to the kitchen.

She didn’t bother with the lights, the moonlight through the windows was enough to see by. She’d been lying in bed for hours, her mind running over scenarios of who the mysterious “father” and “daughter” team across the street could really be. She quietly opened the refrigerator, pulling out the orange juice. She filled the first glass she found and slipped the bottle back, sitting at the table in the darkness. She’d been expecting to find a man named Fennhoff masquerading as a widower. They didn’t know much about him, never mind what he looked like, but the presence of Dottie was baffling to her. The woman was suspicious and sharp, and deep inside Peggy thought she was smarter than she let on.

Peggy sipped her juice, not really wanting it but needing something to do with her hands. She thought about slipping back into the little closet, reviewing the tapes for the night, but decided against it. She needed to shut off her mind, quiet it, not rile it up. She needed rest so she could figure out what their next step would be. Steve was good, and getting better every day, but his real expertise was on the battlefield, not as a spy, and he still deferred to her in almost all matters for missions. She needed to be ready with a new plan by the time the alarm clock went off in the morning.

She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in the dark, letting her mind wander, before she heard it: soft, crunching footsteps in the backyard. She lifted her glass and slowly made her way to behind the counter, crouched low and waiting. She didn’t have much of an advantage, but the juice would at least sting enough to give her the element of surprise.

Peggy steeled herself as she heard the doorknob slowly turn, the person jiggling it gently to confirm the lock was thrown. She slowed her breathing, mind clear and ready for anything as she heard the soft click of lock picks and the tumblers moving in place. The door opened almost silently, a small figure slipping in based on the shadow Peggy could see along the wall.

The person slipped in, looking quietly around the room. Peggy held her breath, waiting as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the person to be just close enough.

Without thought she stood, tossing the juice towards the intruder.

Dottie Underwood screeched as the acidic juice burned her eyes, stumbling back.

Peggy pressed forward, pushing her against the cabinets with both hands. She knew the rattle was loud enough to wake Steve and that he’d be there to back her up any moment. “What are you doing here?”

Dottie, eyes red and blinking furiously, took only a second to choose between lying and the truth. Truth, though, didn’t quite come with words. Instead, she threw her head forward, connecting her forehead with Peggy’s with a sickening crack. Peggy stumbled back, but had the advantage of knowing exactly where everything was in the kitchen. She didn’t need to look to get the pan from the stove, sitting and waiting for breakfast to be cooked up in a few hours, and swing it around.

Dottie threw a hand up just in time to keep the pan from connecting with her skull, and grabbed Peggy’s arm with her free one, grappling and forcing her to drop the pan with a clatter.

“Who are you?” Peggy ground out between her teeth, grabbing a fistful of hair and using that to hold Dottie in her frame of vision.

Dottie countered with a leg sweep, sending Peggy toppling over and off her feet. Peggy didn’t let go, though, and Dottie went down with her, landing them both between the island and the counter. “Just a concerned neighbor,” Dottie managed to huff out, pushing with her legs to try to get the upper hand and roll on top of Peggy. “Thought I saw a robber.”

“How kind,” Peggy grunted, managing to get her hand on a corner of the cabinet and use the leverage to get a leg out so she could knee the woman in the chest. Dottie lost her breath, leaving room for Peggy to pounce once again as she stumbled to stand and move away from her. Peggy started to move towards her again just as Steve rushed through the door of the kitchen, eyes wide and in nothing more than his pajama pants.

Steve’s arrival somewhat stymied Dottie. She paused, still trying to catch her breath, with Peggy huffing beside her. Steve looked between the two women and Peggy stared at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Her, please!”

Steve snatched Dottie around the waist and lifted her off her feet, keeping his head away from her flailing arms as she struggled. Peggy pulled the tie from her robe, using it to secure her hands behind her back once Steve had set her in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Still plan on sticking to your story,” Peggy huffed, sitting across from her as Steve stood guard, “or are you going to tell us what we need to know?”

Dottie smiled like a shark, her red, tearing eyes fighting the visual she wanted to present. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peggy and Steve shared a look, and without a word he slipped out of the kitchen, headed back to the bedroom.

Dottie watched as he returned only moments later with a shirt and shoes to go with the pants, and a very brightly painted shield on his arm. He stepped in the kitchen and handed Peggy her gun before he disappeared out the front door.

Dottie winced; her eyes painful. “Betty, is it? Are you two even married?”

“Does it matter?” Peggy asked pragmatically, rounding the woman and checking her bindings. “I think what matters here is that you’re hiding something and I’d very much like to know what it is.”

“Do you have twin beds? Or just one big bed?” Dottie asked dreamily. “If I could have that in my bed…” she hummed, the salacious tone somewhat ineffective when combined with her sniffles.

“Are you here on behalf of Hydra?” Peggy asked, picking up a towel and mopping the orange juice from the floor.

Dottie continued rambling. “I mean, that’s one hundred percent American beefcake right there. USDA Prime. And strong.” She sighed happily. “When he picked me up… mmm mmm mmm.”

Peggy rolled her eyes behind the woman, picking the pan from the floor. “What about that man you’re with?”

“Oh, he’s about to have his day ruined.” Dottie laughed manically. “You see, when that Greek God of a man of yours riled him up about Captain America, he wasn’t lying. He gets riled up. Mostly because he hates him so much.” She laughed again. “When he wakes up and sees that shield over him… oh, he might just have a heart attack.”

Peggy checked the robe tie as she passed again, knowing it was hardly enough to secure someone who knew what they were doing before she opened the broom closet and pushed out the fake wall. “Last chance to give me anything before I throw you to the wolves.”

Dottie just sat, head held high, eyes still watering.

“Have it your way.” Peggy reached in and pulled out a beacon, tapping it twice. “The cavalry will be here shortly.”

~*~

Steve didn’t exactly feel fantastic about waking the old man up, but when he started cursing in Russian at him and pulled a gun from under his pillow, Steve reassessed his position.

He still felt bad when he had to knock him out though.

~*~

Peggy stood at the doorway, watching the rest of the SSR team pack the surveillance equipment away and hurry the rented furniture back in the truck as the forensics team was going over Dottie’s house. Dottie was safely in custody and Peggy would be interrogating her tomorrow at the SSR when everything was back to normal. It had been only four days since they moved in, but Peggy could admit, at least to herself, that she’d enjoyed playing house.

Steve came up behind her, his hands still at his sides rather than at her hips. They’d set clear ground rules when it came to the office and the SSR, and that meant no touching in front of co-workers. The absence of his hands when he was so close was causing the hairs on her arms to stand at attention. “What do you think about suburbia?” she questioned lightly, though it weighed heavily on her mind.

“Well, when there aren’t sleeper Hydra Agents hiding in it, it seems pleasant enough to me.” He shrugged, leaning on the doorjamb to look at her. “I grew up in the city, but I’m not attached to that as some idyllic idea of what life should be. Might be nice to have a little garden, some grass to cut, a front yard to build a snowman in and rake leaves…”

Peggy jutted her chin out the to Smythe house, where, like everyone else on the street, Dan and Laura were looking out the window, trying to get every bit of gossip they could. “Neighbors being neighborly.”

Steve dropped his voice. “I think we’d do well in someplace like this.”

Peggy smiled up at him before turning back to the men in the yard. “Agreed.”

“It should be bigger, though, to make room for the kids.” He nudged her with his elbow, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “Four, at least.”

Peggy raised her eyebrows at him. “Two.”

“Only two?” He asked, partially teasing and partially actually let down.

Peggy turned so the men in the yard couldn’t see or hear what she was saying. “Will you be popping them out then? Because until you are, I think the person actually carrying the children should have her opinion weighed slightly more.”

He nodded, eyebrows together tightly. “Point taken.”

She stepped closer, nudging him with her shoulder. “Perhaps we start with one, and see how we do, hum?” She pushed past him, the bump intentional and flirty. “Besides, I’m still waiting on that ring.”

Steve smiled out at the front yard, shoving his hands in his pockets. Good thing the ring was sitting back in his apartment in the top drawer of his dresser. Seeing as this little test run had gone well, maybe he’d pop the question sooner rather than later.

Domestic bliss and international espionage… Steve couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.

[marvel-m-lee]

Alone, Bored and Mischievous~

Words- 2034

Fandom- Rick and Morty

Focus Characters- you, Jerry, Rick

Summary- You were bored in the house and in the house bored, everyone else was out apart from Jerry so you decided to hang out with your favourite dad.

●■○□■●○□■●○□■●○□■●○□■

You were bored as fuck. You wondered around the house, unsure if what to do. Everyone seemed to be doing their own things; summer had gone to the mall with Beth- your adopted mother- Jerry was reading a newspaper in his 'man cave', Morty was out and you had no clue where Rick had gone so you assumed the two were on an adventure.

You wandered around the house aimlessly. Usually you'd go out with friends or have plans but everyone else had plan today with family or dates or other shit. So you were left alone.

You looked at the couch, sitting down and wondering if you should watch some interdimentional tv, you turned the tv on and grabbed a remote, sitting on the couch.

You were wearing some pretty lazy stuff although it was hot out. It wasn't burning but it was definitely hot enough, you wore an over sized baby blue t-shirt with a little bee on the breast saying 'bee-kind' and some casual black leggings with no socks or shoes. Your hair was down and partly messy, thought you had brushed it prior.

You flicked through a variety of shows, ranging from cartoons to 4th Dimensional shit. But nothing grabbed your interest, you mostly just wanted to do something, not just sit around. You looked at the nintendo, perhaps you could play some games? But the idea quickly faded as you just weren't interested in it right now.

You got up and turned off the TV, putting the remote back. You even thought about eating, but you were just bored so there was no point.

You then decided to go nose around the house, no one was hone so it couldn't hurt right? You'd already nosed around in the main areas so you decided to go to Rick's room.

Ah what a genius you are.

Fucking nutcase.

Anyways you slopped off to his room, you wandered down the downstairs hall behind the stairs and quickly found the old farts room. You peeked inside, no one around, you looked around to make sure no one was around either, Jerry would have been to busy to notice anyway.

You stepped into the room and looked around, a messy bed, messy floors, his notes covered his walls, boxes were stacked upon each other filled with whatever Rick collected, his draws were slightly open and random clothing and paper falling down and more. You looked over the mans bed, questioning how he could sleep on a bed so low and so unsteady.

Even this bored you, you really had nothing catching your interest, even mischief was killing you.

You left the room, though before you did, you left a little surprise for Rick under his bed.

You left and trotted down the halls, finding your way to Jerry's man cave. Maybe you could hang out with him, he was like your dad after all.

You entered the room to see him sitting on a recliner chair watching some show about you had no clue, nor did you take any interest.

"Hey J" you rhyme, smiling at him. Jerry paused the show quickly and sat up smiling too. He waved pathetically but appreciated the nickname. You usually did this anyway, and he had a nickname for you too.

"Hey Mischief" he said, one of the best nicknames he'd come up with in a while, though he'd been calling you it for years. You usually caused mischief in the family, earning you the appropriate title.

You wandered over to Jerry, standing next to the recliner and looking at the TV. "What cha watching?"

"Nothing, what cha doing?" Jerry asked, brushing off his show. You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"I'm just hanging out with my favourite dad"

Jerry's face went sick and tears filled his eyes at the thought.

"Awwww y/n!" Jerry got up and pulled you into a hug making you laugh, you swatted him away, pulling out of it.

"Alright sap king" you laughed, Jerry just rolled his eyes.

"Anyway what are really up too?" Jerry asked, knowing your mischievous ways. You shrugged with a slight smirk, you really wanted to cause some mischief right now.

"Uh-huh... okay-" Jerry eyes you but the two of you left to go to the kitchen to grab a drink. You chatted about some strange things and then about a job for Jerry.

"Yeah I found this job application" you explained, leaning over the kitchen's side as he got you both a drunk from the sink.

"No way really?!" He asked excitedly. "What about?"

"Its nothing fancy, just a couple of ads" you shrugged as if it was nothing, taking the water Jerry had poured out for you.

"Thank you y/n! Thank you thank you thank you!" Jerry jumped with joy as the two of you headed into the living room to watch TV. And seeing a way to cause mischief you jumped over the couch and slid right under where Jerry was about to sit.

"Y/n!"

"Jerry!"

Then when he went to sit next to you you just laid across the whole couch.

"Jerry I'm trying to watch TV!" You whined, pointing at the black screen. Jerry loomed at the TV to see if you actually were, but obviously you weren't, just pulling his leg. You burst out laughing and he mocked you.

"Ha ha! Very funny. Now move" he ordered, though it was in his own pathetic Jerry way.

"Nah, I'm quite comfortable here" you explained, placing the drink on the table and stretching out with your arms under your head like when someone was sunbathing.

"Oh really now?" Jerry asked, putting his drink down too. A slight teasing in his voice.

"Mhm! You should try this out- oh wait" you laughed in mockery, only joking around as not to hurt his feelings. But quickly your laughter turned slient as he fluttered his hands over your open armpits. Your eyes opened wide and you stared st the Jerry looking down at you, glaring at him.

You had closed your armpits now, looking a little silly on the couch having lost your confidence. Jerry noticed this and smirked, smiling as though he had no clue what was going on.

"Is everything okay?" He taunted. He was a dumbass, a pain in the ass, pathetic, but a great dad for the most part. He knew in every way to embarrass his kids and loved to do it together it was on purpose or just his pathetic ways.

You glared at him, staying in the same position.

"Jerry."

"Y/n?"

The smirk on his face only grew as he acted more and more stupid. He reached his hand down and squeezed your belly, making you jerk and almost fall off the sofa though you didnt due to him being there.

"Jeherry. Jerry dont" you ordered, though it partly sounded like pleading, your hidden laughter mixing with your words. Jerry only answered with a little squeeze in the centre of your belly making a dumb smile break through on your mouth before you quickly got rid of it.

"What's wong y/n?" Jerry teased in a babys voice. You always hated when he did that, making you giggle even more but trying to act tough you tried your hardest not to laugh.

"N-nothing. Move ya big ball sack!" You told him, pushing him out of your face, holding back giggles. You always sounded like such a baby when you giggled, especially nervously. Not like the strong independent wOmAn you are on missions who can fight and comprehend almost anything.

"Hehey! Watch it" Jerry laughed as he was pushed backwards. You chuckled as he fell backwards a little bit but stay stood up over you. He had a wide smirk on his mouth and you were doubting whether or not you should have caused mischief in the first place.

"Y/n?" He asked, stepping closer sl you couldn't run.

"W-what?" You stuttered, a bit nervous now.

"I have a question"

"I don't think I wanna hear it-" you muttered slightly, looking for a way of escapism.

"Please! Just one tiny little question." He begged as he crouched down, trying to hide his smirk. You never minded when Jerry tickled you, you didn't hate being tickled either, you actually enjoyed the memories but you hated the taunting, the taughtig was terrible. You'd go all ready and squeal, unable to talk from being flustered so much.

But you knew there was no escape from this.

"Jerrryyyyy" you begged silently.

"Pleaseeeeee?"

You sighed, looking down in defeat.

"What..."

"Y/n?"

"What Jerry!" You whined, pooking up into his eyes. Though it was a horrible mistake, full of mischief and taunting, a large smirk on his face.

His hands darted to your sides as he threw you back.

"Are you ticklish?" He knew the answer, darting his hands up your sides making you squeal suddenly and then giggle like a child as you were slammed into the couch. You desperately pushed at his hands as your face turned a light pink.

"Jeheherry! Nohoho" you giggled, pushing and wiggling out of his grip. He grabbed you though and threw you onto the couch slightly, you were a great fighter, slippery and incredible but you were light as a feather no matter what. Even Jerry could swoop you up for a quick moment.

He stood over you as his hands squeezed and dances over the skin, slowly making their way up your ribs making you kick out as you tried to hide tour laughter, clamming your mouth shut so no one would hear, though no one was home and everyone knew except Rick.

"MmMHMm!" You muffled and tried to compel your laughter, wiggling as Jerry straddled you between his legs, dancing his fingers up your ribs. Weak bitch in fighting but tickle fights? It was such a Jerry thing.

He even fir a quick moment brought a hand to your neck, light tickles causing you to tuck in as he brought it back down to your side and ribs. You pushed and pulled at his wrists but nothing worked. You were dying behind a clenched smile.

Jerry skillfully shot his hands into your armpits making you squeal extremely loud, almost rolling off the couch with giggly screeching laughter. It wasn't even your worst spot, you were just surprised.

You rolled off the couch and ran to the kitchen, standing over the counter so Jerry couldn't get you easily, and good thing too, you both heard a voice call out if everything was alright in there and Rick stood outside the garage door with his casual light blue shirt on and pants having working on something in the garage this whole time.

You turned around for a split second to see if Rick was actually there, Jerry detracted too. You quickly span around though and pointed a finger from him to Rick.

"HE CAN NEVER FIND OUT!" You yelled particularly loud, a slight bit out of breath from the attack. Your face was bright red by now and your hair a bit messy. Jerry was smiling wide and laughing at your reaction. Rick just gave it a weird ass look.

"What uurrp-" Rick questioned before being interrupted by his own burp. You only snapped your neck to look at him so he could see your bright red and flustered face.

"What the-"

"SHUT UP"

"She's really-" you snapped your head and glared at Jerry, screaming.

"SHUT UP JERRY!" You really never minded the tickles, but once more, having to watch someone let out your secret of being tickled? It only meant the other person would tickle you more. It was human. And embarrassing.

You didnt care if Rick knew, but you really did. You didnt wanna seem weak, or babish. You didn't want him to know you actually enjoyed the tournament, not that anyone did know. Still.

"FUCK YOU ALL" You yelled, walking out of the room, bright and flustered.

Rick gave you a look and then Jerry, Jerry put up a hand to talk.

"She's really-" he whispered slightly but you leaned back into the room and yelled at him to shut up.

"NO!"

[lovelivingmydreams]

#AsktheTroubleTrio: Oh Roman the gooey shoes are the new heelies, Remus made them more stylish :)

Roman grinned brightly. “I love the fanders so much, they are brilliant.”

Virgil looked back at Roman questioningly but only got a wicked grin in return.

He’d find out soon enough he supposed.

They landed in the courtyard and Virgil got off to help Roman to the ground.

Once the prince steadied himself he summoned two pointed sticks, winked at Virgil pushed himself forward and started… Skating around the courtyard.

He was making jumps and twirls all over the place, spinning around Remus with a victorious grin several times before making a ramp, skating right up to it as fast as he could and making a jump, doing a triple spin and landing on the top of the stairs with an elegant final spin, halting his movement with his sticks.

Virgil, Dante and everyone watching clapped impressed by the display. Remus was pouting.

Roman made a bow. “Let’s get me some new shoes and have lunch shall we?” he suggested, sounding more than a little smug.

Remus let out a sigh. “Alright,” he relented and stepped forward only to slip and fall, narrowly grabbing onto Mell’s saddle to stay upright.

“Oops, guess I left a bit of a spot there,” Roman chuckled, genuinely surprised by the result.

Virgil looked down and tested the ground before him. It seemed safe enough. Perhaps Remus was only struggling because Roman had passed him several times and layered slime all around him.

Which proved to him that Remus had put some thought in the design of the slime. It was not meant to be a hazard to others. Just a minor mess that would most likely dissolve over time on its own.

“Let’s get going then,” Remus said as he vanished the slippery circle around him. “I’ll figure something you can’t charm your way out of brother mine. Just you wait!” he grinned, the competitiveness clear in his eyes.

“Oh, I am sure you will try,” Roman taunted as Virgil made his way up the stairs. “Can we make it to lunch without too much of a hassle? I’m starving. I nearly turned into a popsicle today should you have forgotten,” he reminds the twins.

“Ah yes you are right. Helena?” Roman addressed a lady from the staff passing by.

“We shall make our way to the dining room. Would you be so kind as to go to my room and bring me a different pair of shoes?” he asked kindly.

The woman bowed and hurried off to do as was asked of her.

“Now, of to lunch!” Roman declared as he led the way. He still needed Virgil’s assistance on the stairs, but other than that he’d adapted to his current circumstances quite well.

Shortly after they got settled into the dining room Helena returned with new shoes for Roman.

Roman put his cursed ones to the side just in time for dinner to arrive.

“Remus what in the world is that?” Roman asked with a look of disgust as Remus got his lunch.

“Octopus stew!” Remus grinned.

“I am pretty sure that should count as cannibalism for you,” Roman pointed out as he started on his salad.

Remus stilled for a moment, his eyes wide. “That… that is the greatest thing you ever said to me!” he said.

Roman shrugged casually. “Say, I can’t recall. Is it octopi, octopusses or octopussies?” he wondered.

Remus snorted once, twice and burst out in a full bellied laughter, throwing his head back, which was when Virgil saw Roman hurriedly reach over and drop something into his brother’s drink.

Virgil quirked a brow. Roman sent him a reassuring look. This would not harm Remus in any way.

Remus calmed down and took a big swig of his drink.”

That is F…” Instead of saying whatever he was planning to, bubbles came out of his mouth. Pretty pink ones that sparkled when they popped.

It was quiet. Then Remus glared at Roman.

“Roman. I swear I’ll…” a long stream of bubbles followed.

“You went after my grace. I went after your foul mouth. It’s only fair,” Roman grinned.

“Sorry Remus. This round goes to Roman,” Virgil admitted.

Remus huffed and threw his arms over one another. There he was, dressed in white and pastel green unable to curse or say anything interesting out loud. Though he supposed he could have a little fun with knowing that his audience would probably fill in what he was saying for him. Still,he had to come up with at least one good prank that would knock Roman’s socks off.

Next

@moonlightshow00 thank you so much for this. I totally,missed that wonderful option. Thanks!

@naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

[liebegott]

Unfortunate. | Ronald Speirs

as requested by @wexhappyxfew​

(click here to read on wattpad)

feel free to send me a request!

pairing: speirs x reader

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: you have pneumonia and ron takes care of you

a/n: shannon requested soft!speirs, which is one of my fav concepts. instead of lipton getting pneumonia, it’s y/n. i hope that’s alright with you! and thank you for reading. 💓

i mean no disrespect to the real ronald speirs. this is all purely based on matthew settle’s portrayal of him in band of brothers.

tagging: @floydtab​ @alienoresimagines​ @order-of-river-phoenix​ @julianneday1701​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​ @wexhappyxfew​ @rarmiitage​ @mavysnavy​

***

You had two problems: you had pneumonia and your captain was being insufferable about it. Laying on a couch in the company CP, you gripped the ends of the blanket that covered your shivering frame. Luz handed you a warm cup of coffee and put a gentle hand on your forehead. "How are you feelin'?" he asked, a toothpick between his teeth. The men were extra kind to you, the only woman in the paratroopers, today. Most of the time, all they did was tease you.

Puffing out your cheeks, you shuddered for the thousandth time today. "Terrible, thank you," you mumbled a reply.

"That's unfortunate," you heard a voice say behind you, and you looked up to see Captain Speirs, a cup of coffee in hand. He placed his cup on the table beside you, arranged the sheets over you and sat on the couch, a look of concern plastered all over his face.

"Captain Speirs, sir," you looked up and saw Webster. He had disappeared before Bastogne, hit in the leg by machine gun artillery. You almost didn't recognise him, but you were sure you didn't recognise the man beside him. "This is Lieutenant Jones.”

At the sound of his voice, Speirs quickly stood, and pretended he wasn't just worrying about you. "Listen, Y/L/N, will you go back in the back and sack out? There are beds there with fresh sheets," he commanded with his usual captain voice he put on in front of the men.

"I will, sir," you replied, your voice hoarse, and Luz helped you up to move you to the back.

You stumbled across the room, your eyelids heavy. You heard Luz let out a laugh, and felt him put an arm around you to help support you. "God," he mumbled, "Speirs can be real soft sometimes, huh?”

"What are you talking about, George?" you responded, looking at him incredulously as he placed you down on a wonky bed. The springs of the mattress were jutting out in some areas, but you managed to settle yourself as comfortably as possible.

He looked down at your shaking form and picked up a fresh sheet, draping it over you. "Well, y'know? It's in the way he looks at you.”

There's a way he looks at me? You asked yourself, your cheeks reddening. "You've got it wrong, Luz," you brushed it off, thanking him quietly for helping take care of you, "He treats me the same way he treats all the men in his company.”

"If you say so, Y/N.”

***

You woke up with a start, a shiver running down your spine. It was dark outside, and you could see the moon from where you were lying down. You felt pain travel through your body and grimaced, sighing when it finally passed. Gently, you sat up, the sheets that were once around you pooled around your small frame.

You stood slowly, placing your feet on the ground as quietly as you could and wobbling out of the room you were in. You cursed at how cold it was, and you turned to pick up your sheets once more, wrapping it around yourself that you looked like a caterpillar, scooting around on your feet. Your socks were slippery, and each step you made made you feel much colder than you were previously.

Pushing open the door gently, you peeked your head out, and you were greeted by none other than Captain Speirs. He was seated on the couch, his back to you, lost in thought. Being as quiet as possible, you opened the door wider, but he always had good ears and turned to you right away.

"Oh, Y/N," he mumbled, turning back around to stare at nothing in particular, "You scared me." He said it so plainly, and you knew it was because nothing scared him. "I was just thinking," Ronald whispered.

"About what, Captain? If you don't mind me asking." you answered, scooting towards the end of the couch and plopping yourself beside him, leaving a lot of space between the two of you, "I was just gonna go look for food." You lifted your legs, wrapping your arms around your knees.

Ronald abruptly stood, and walked towards the kitchen that stored all the food the company had. He opened up one of the cabinets and turned to you. "What are you hungry for?" he asked, and only now did you realise how different he looked in the dark, lit only by the fire place across the room.

Tired was the first word that came to mind when you saw him, dark circles around his eyes, a sullen look on his face. At first, you couldn't respond, the sadness of whatever he was feeling radiating towards you. You suddenly no longer felt cold.

"Peaches," you whispered when you realised you were staring at him, "Actually anything is fine.”

He grabbed a can of peaches from the highest shelf, took out a knife from his pocket and stabbed a hole in the corner. Ronald then opened up the can for you, and grabbed a spoon from the sink. "Don't worry," he said, handing you the food, "I washed the spoon.”

You mumbled a quiet thanks and took a spoonful of peaches, feeling a lot better. "What were you thinking about, Captain?" you asked again, chewing on the fruit, "Is something wrong?”

Ronald stared at the flickering fireplace, the flames dancing beneath the red brick. His jaw hardened, and he shook his head. "Nothing," was all he replied, turning to face you, "Just worried about you.”

That took you off guard. "I'm fine, Captain," you interjected, nearly choking on your peaches. He quickly put a hand on your back, patting you gently to help the food down.

"You don't look fine," he said, his eyes furrowed, "Eat slower, Y/N." Your arms flopped to your side as your captain, the man nearly every man in Easy feared, the man you were sure all the men respected, took the can gently from your hands and used the spoon to cut the peaches into smaller bites.

You watched him, bewildered, as he handed it back to you and stood to get you some water. He circled the room, looking for his canteen, and upon spotting it, sat back down beside you and put it on the small table beside you. You ate in silence as Ronald watched you, a frown plastered on his face.

"I swear, I'm fine, sir," you said again, though your head hurt like crazy and each breath you took was laboured.

He placed a gentle hand on your forehead and exhaled a sigh. "You're warming up again, hold on," he stood, getting another sheet to wrap around you. He wrapped you so tightly, and grabbed the can of peaches from you. "Lay down," he said, his voice no longer commanding but gentle.

You rested your back on the couch, and he pulled your legs over his lap, making sure you were comfortable. Ronald took a spoonful of peaches, and fed them to you quietly. "I really wish you'd call me Ron when we're alone," he whispered, not looking at you, "This sir business is getting old.”

"That's unfortunate," you smiled, copying his response from that afternoon. You swallowed hard, shutting your eyes briefly. "It's kinda fun pretending we aren't a lot closer than everyone thinks.”

At that, Ronald shook his head, "Tsk, it's only fun for you because I get all nervous the men might notice." You let out a laugh, but coughed right after, your chest hurting. Ronald's face changed quickly, and he leaned down to give you some water.

Taking a sip, you closed your eyes, the cool water travelling down your throat. Upon opening them, Ronald was staring at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn't place a finger on— Sadness, admiration? You had no clue.

"I just wished everyone could know," he said, his voice quiet. You scooted back up, pulling your legs off of him and tilted your head questioningly, "If I told you something I've been too worried to tell you for so long, would you hate me?”

It was such a childish question to ask, but then you realised he was just 24. Because despite everything war had done to you, you were all still so young. You had heard the stories of how he had killed those soldiers, but no one ever said a word against it, and he never disputed it.

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek and shook your head, "I would never hate you, Ron. No matter what you've done.”

He frowned, and shook his head as well, quicker, and you dropped your hand. "No, this isn't about the prisoners," he frowned, "It's something else, something that could change us.”

"What is it, Ron?" you asked gently, scooting towards him, hugging the blankets over your shoulders. You saw him struggle with himself, running a hand over his face.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N," Ronald said, "And I'm worried about your health, about the entire company finding out, and about if you don't feel the same way.”

You were quiet for a few moments, taking in his words. Looking up at him, he looked like the 24 year old he really was, not some brave captain who had run through enemy lines time and time again— In short, he was afraid. Your face broke out into a smile.

"Well, that's unfortunate," you said again, the words bouncing off the two of you, "Because I might just be able to get rid of one worry of yours.”

And with that, you closed the space between you, wrapped your arms tightly around the man who softened around you, and kissed him like your life depended on it.

[mysymestash]

RFA + Saeran accidentally injuring MC

I FORGOT JIHYUN LIKE A BIG DUMB MAYBE I’LL UPDATE LATER WITH HIS

Yoosung

LOLOL had launched a special campaign, only available for a limited time

Seeing as how the reward for completing it was rumoured to be a brand new skin for one of Yoosung’s favourite characters,

of course he was going to spend three sleepless nights in front of the computer to be the first one to get it

Normally, you wouldn’t let him stay up for so long playing- but finals were over and you figured he deserved to blow off some steam

You were relaxing on the couch one day when you heard a loud commotion from Yoosung

You went over to his desk to check on him-

“Yes! Yes! I got it- oh my god, I got it! MC come over here and check it out-!”

Before you could even respond to tell him you were already right beside him

He threw his hands up in the air while he was celebrating, one connecting directly with your nose

When his shocked face whipped around to see you cradling your now bloody nose he almost screamed

Apologizing incessantly- and god forbid you shed some tears at the pain because he will reciprocate the tears tenfold

He tries to get you some tissues but he’s panicking so much that he just- grabs a fistful and shoves it in your face

Just wants to stop the bleeding as soon as possible

Will want you to hit him back as revenge

If you take him up on the offer, he will cry again

Jumin

You two were relaxing at the end of the day, just enjoying a glass of wine together

But Elizabeth was feeling especially needy that day

She was cuddling up to you, walking across your laps, etc..

She refused to sit still, wanting you to play with her

Jumin’s just watching you suffer with amusement, you trying to drink from your glass but can’t since Elizabeth keeps pawing at it

Thinks your frustrated face is adorable

In fact, so adorable he wants to keep a permanent record of it

So he pulls out his phone to capture the moment- fully intending on sending it straight to the messenger

But my man forgot his flash was on

Mind you, this is in the late evening and you two are outside on the patio- so this flash is bright

Scares the everloving shit out of Elizabeth too and she jumps ten feet into the air out of your lap, knocking your glass out of your hand

On reflex, you reach out to catch the glass but it shatters on the ground before you can fully reach it

You can’t quite see what’s happened but damn can your hand feel it

Feeling the sharp pain, you quickly pull back your hand and put it to the light- bitch is bleeding

You’re a little in shock but he’s already called five paramedics, 12 different ambulances, a neurosurgeon- Jumin stop why would I need a neurosurgeon for my hand

Even after he confirms with all the doctors that you’re fine, he will be paranoid for a long time

Invests in shatter-proof everything

Jaehee

It was a busy busy busy day in the cafe

Both of you were rushing around trying to take all the orders and seat everyone in time

Neither of you were expecting today of all days to be so busy- and some of the other workers had called in so you were already running short on people

You were at the front, taking orders and providing extra chairs for everyone filtering in

Jaehee called you from the back for help getting all the extra batches she had just made out to the front

Ngl she was really rushing you along- urging you to hurry up before you missed anyone new coming in

You were feeling so rushed, in fact, that you weren’t really paying attention to what Jaehee was handing you- more focused on just getting it out as fast as possible

Without warning, she finished handing you the muffins that had been cooling for the past few minutes and had swapped to the cookies fresh out the oven

You were not wearing your oven mitts

As soon as the pan made contact with your skin you screamed, dropping it on the floor

She was on you right away,, pulling your red hands under the cool tap water

Doesn’t stop apologizing;

Her actions are swift and confident- bandaging your hands with incredible proficiency

But her words are something else completely lol— she’s stammering out “I’m sorry”s and asking if you’re okay like fifty times in a row

Insists you stay in the front and that she does the kitchen work on her own- even if you refuse

At the end of the day she’ll still be apologizing and offers to bring you to the hospital to make sure hands are okay

You have to calm her down by kissing her

But yes please take me to the hospital I still hurt

Saeyoung

You and Saeyoung were playing hide and go seek tag like a bunch of CHILDREN

Jk it’s adorable

Saeyoung was it this round which is honestly an unfair advantage in all regards

You, like the hide and go seek pro you are, we’re strategically moving your hiding spot every few seconds- never staying in one spot for too long

You’re a lot harder to track down than he first anticipated

Resorts to using his cameras to find you

“It’s not cheating, MC- it’s using your tools to your advantage.”

Finds you creeping down the halls and hatches a plan to take you by surprise

The hall you’re in happens to connect back to the kitchen

When you finally make it into the kitchen, he takes the chance to pop out right behind you screaming like a banshee

Your heart drops

You scream and try to run away but socks on slippery tiled floor don’t offer too much traction

You make it half a step before you are launched backwards and crash onto the ground head first

His screaming turns into half screaming half laughing as he rushes to your side on the floor

Recites some dramatic made up poetry about his fallen love- ala Romeo and Juliet

You’re fighting back tears while you’re holding your head

“Saeyoung stop making me laugh it’s making my head hurt even more”

When he hears you saying your head hurt he calms down

Legitimately worried now that your injury might be serious

Rushes you to a doctor right away who concludes that you probably just have a mild concussion

Permanent bed rest and cuddles until he decides you’re better

Expect him to don the maid costume while he’s taking care of you and “forget” to close the door letting Saeran walk in and see everything

poor Saeran

Zen

He had just gotten casted for what was essentially his dream role

This boy was Romeo fucking Montague

So psyched he wanted you to help him practice lines- obviously for the balcony scene as you read for Juliet

But he was

really into this role

He had you climb up on top of this ladder as he supported you from the bottom to act as the ‘balcony’

You just went along with it despite how ridiculous you felt because you didn’t want to be the one to rain on his parade;;

Besides you thought it was cute seeing how invested he was getting into the character as you peered over him from your position on the ladder

Well- it was cute until his focus gradually shifted from keeping you stable on the ladder to reciting his monologue

“Uhh, Zen? Are you sure this is stable enough?..”

You doubt he even heard you over his reading, not taking his eyes off of the script

Before you could try and catch his attention again you unceremoniously toppled down as the ladder suddenly fell away from under you

He heard the crashing and reached out, script being thrown away and forgotten, to catch you before you landed

Technically he succeeded but it didn’t stop your leg being caught in the mess of the ladder falling

Leading to your very sprained ankle

Doesn’t even stop to ask if you’re okay,, all but throws the ladder away and carries you all the way to the hospital

After you guys get back, you’re pouting and he’s basically begging for your forgiveness

Will ask you to push him from a real balcony so he can understand and experience your pain

Obviously not Zen wtf

Will “kiss your ankle better” and curse the gods that his beast-like healing abilities was not given to you also

Saeran

You’ve probably been hanging out with Saeyoung a little too much tbh

He gives you the idea to prank Saeran

For SOME reason you think it’s a good idea

He was sleeping in this morning and you think it would be hilarious if you hid behind the door before he woke up and scare him as he came out

You’ve definitely been spending too much time with Saeyoung

When he wakes up and doesn’t feel you in the bed with him he lowkey freaks out

He thinks you’ve probably just left to go to the bathroom or something so he calls your name

Obviously you don’t respond

Cue actual panic for marshmallow boy

Starts thinking of all the worst case scenarios that could have happened to you

He basically leaps out of the bed, calling for Saeyoung

You hear him coming to the door and get ready to scare him

But before you can even jump out of your hiding spot behind the door- it swings open full force getting you right in the nose

“Owwww...Saeran...”

He hears your whining and pulls back the door to see you holding your bloody nose

“What the hell are you doing back there? Why didn’t you respond when I called you?”

“I was trying to prank you...”

A moment of silence for Saeran’s patience

“Bye.”

Steps back into your room and closes the door

Honestly really relieved you were okay, just embarrassed about how worried he was

Will come back out when he hears you in the bathroom taking care of your nose

“You’re not allowed to talk to my idiot brother again.”

“But Saerannnn”

Surprisingly very gentle when patching you up

[fleckcmscott]

Adjusting

Summary: Arthur moved in with Y/N nearly two weeks ago. It takes more getting used to than he’d thought.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Smut

Words: 3,675

A/N: Another request by the wonderful @sweet-nothings04​. Thank you to the amazing @ithinkimawriter​ for beta-reading and her support!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Arthur was pensive as he sat at her small, round dining table. (Their table. Theirs. When was he going to remember to use the right word?) Pen in hand, he sought relief. The multitude of changes since moving to 4A in Burnley, since moving in with Y/N about a week and a half ago, had kept his brain distracted enough to stop his negative thoughts, at least for a couple of days. But they were back in full force. It was discouraging - he'd believed the temporary break might have been permanent. It had been foolish to hope, though he couldn't have stopped himself from wishing it.

Y/N had taken Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off to help him settle in. They'd been side-by-side for five days, the most time they'd spent together at once. It had felt close to what he'd imagined a honeymoon would be like, and every hour had strengthened that association. He'd cherished it deeply, but he kept it to himself. He shouldn't have been picturing himself the happy groom and her his blushing bride after only three and a half months of dating.

When she'd returned to work Monday, it had been unexpectedly difficult for him. And his unease had grown over the next days. It wasn't that he was alone - he was used to being on his own. But he found that without her there, he felt out of sorts. Almost like a guest in a fancy hotel, regardless of how often he'd been there before and her insistence that he wasn't.

His old place had been run down, and everything in it, from appliances to the mismatched curtains, was outdated. But it had been his home and he'd been comfortable there. With all the evenings Y/N had spent in 8J after Penny left to go to long-term care, his memories of it had started to be positive. When she'd had work to do, he'd rummaged around while she'd sat at his breakfast bar, reading court documents he'd snuck a peek at but hadn't understood. Their first Christmas together, the first holiday that had meant a damn to him, had been celebrated in his living room. They'd watched shows on the old color TV, with its dials and wooden casing. And he'd made love to her on the couch, that piece of furniture he'd spent lonely nights on most of his life.

Maintaining separate residences had meant that Arthur's space and what he could do in it were clear. He'd had his own household to run and had managed to keep busy between the occasional job. Now he felt lost. Y/N had told him to take his own actions, to not worry about upsetting her, that as long as he didn't do something drastic to the apartment, there'd be no issue. Yet, even with her reassurances, he felt as though he needed permission. He didn't want to ruin her nice office wear by laundering it with his own, faded clothing. And he was unsure if she'd like him rearranging the kitchen cabinets a bit (because coffee and sugar should be on the same shelf).

It wasn't her fault. She'd done and continued to do everything she could to help him feel at home. New towels had been hung up for him in the bathroom. They'd gone shopping together and picked up the dish soap he used, his favorite seltzer, and sheets to match his green blanket. He'd hooked up his VCR, too, and they'd watched one of his old movies, just like before.

But his mind was stopping him from enjoying himself, as usual. He'd tried picturing a big red stop sign, speaking the words aloud to sap away the intrusive thoughts' power, both techniques he'd recently learned from his doctor. They weren't working tonight, however. So he started writing. "I signed up for another open-mike night, but that's in to weeks - to whole weeks!" He pulled at a piece of chestnut hair as he continued. "I half Y/N all the time. Its good but she's going to get tired of me. I'm tired of myself. I want to feel fresh for her when she gets home. Which is in two hours, so I better hurry the hell up!"

~~~~~

The sun had already set and a deep chill was in the air. It wasn't a surprise; February was Gotham's coldest month. Arthur stood in the partially open doorway, watching the light snow fall onto the fire escape, the flakes illuminated by the streetlights and lamps of the living room. Journaling had helped, and nicotine tempered him mildly. Still, his brain was racing, so much so he nearly felt numb. Part of him wondered if moving in with Y/N had been a mistake. Yes, he was thirty-five and most men seemed to move out when they were eighteen. But he wasn't like most people. And though he knew he'd taken the right step, his doubts tightened his sinews and muscles.

He didn't hear the closing of the front door. Or the clink of her keys on the kitchen counter. His first indication that she'd come home was her loose grip on his sides. "How was your day?" she asked.

Hard. "Okay." Letting out a smoky breath, he took a step forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the stairs. "Yours?"

"Long." She didn't move forward, allowing the space he'd created between them. "There are nine hearings on the trailing docket tomorrow. I'm going to be in court until five." Her bones popped as she stretched behind him. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

She pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. "Here," she said, then brushed her fingers through his hair. "You've got snow on you."

A small chuckle left him and he bent his head to help her. "Oh."

"Where did your pajamas and thermals go?" she asked as she patted his chest. "You're always so buttoned up." Before he could bring himself to stop her, she'd opened his brown cardigan. Her kneading of his bony shoulders, the care she was showing him, made him wince and look at the floor. How could he explain his troubles, his concern, without hurting her?

But then she relieved him of that burden by starting the conversation herself. "Change isn't easy," she said. "You miss your old place." When he grasped her hand, he folded their fingers together and swallowed. Her arm went around him. "It doesn't mean you love me any less."

Both annoyed at and thankful for her perception, he frowned. She'd gotten too good at reading him, better than he was at interpreting her. He was working on it, though. "It's silly." He waved, trying to dismiss his discomfort. Then he tucked his chin. "I don't want you to think I don't wanna be here."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll never think that, Arthur."

His forehead rested against her temple. "I'm trying."

"I know. Did you write any jokes today?"

His arms encircled her and pulled her to him as he nodded. "What's the difference between Arkham's patients and doctors?"

The hold she had on him tightened, even as her voice was light. This had become a pattern: sweet puns on good days, darker wisecracks on rough days. "Their types of files?"

The punchlines she gave were always too cerebral. Nestling in her hair, he closed his eyes. "The patients get better and leave."

Laughing, she pulled away from him. The grin he gave her was small, the stroking of her jaw short. But he hoped they were enough to tell her he was going to be all right. Especially with her by his side. Her cheeks turned pink in response. "I think I have a way to make you feel better," she said.

Eagerly, he let her lead him to the bathroom. It was with relief he watched her grab the soap from the sink, take out two new washcloths, and start the shower. They hadn't made love for eleven days; he missed it - it was a comfort to him. Her monthly had started right before the move, and, while he'd needed her, he'd been too tense to get in the mood since it had ended.

She helped him out of his sweater and hung it on one of the hooks he'd installed on the door. The white shirt he wore was undone hastily, both of them fumbling with the buttons. When she reached for the fly of his pants, he cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. He felt her smile as she nudged his nose with hers. Then she backed away and stripped out of her champagne blouse, revealing the plain, beige bra she wore underneath. She slipped out of her skirt, too, leaving it on the floor, and sat on the closed lid of the toilet to take off her pantyhose. "I've been wanting to do this for awhile."

Though his mind was still busy, the speed of his thoughts was decreasing. And she was cheering him up. He propped himself on the sink and took off his white socks.  "It's a little slippery in there," he said wryly.

"I'll have you know I'm a pretty good ice-skater. For a Southern girl, at least." That was an image he'd have to remember. Maybe they could try it out at Gotham Park before the end of winter. She removed her underthings and put on the radio, which was set to Arthur's favorite AM station, the one that played music from the thirties and forties. "Besides, I'll have you to break my fall." Then she stepped in the tub.

They hadn't showered together before. It reminded him of the night they'd lain in the bath, when he'd realized her love for him wasn't a trick. Would he feel the same closeness without laying in her arms? Sliding his pants and briefs down his legs, he got in beside her and shut the reeded glass door. The space was a couple inches narrower than his old one, but because there wasn't a curtain that would annoyingly cling to him, it felt bigger. It was a bit longer, too. And the shower head was at a good height, though he was still getting used to the higher water pressure.

The steam rising above them, the pelt of droplets against his back, the foot of space between them - he took it all in, peering at her, hands clasped in front of him. She was already rinsing suds out of her hair. Was he supposed to start washing in front of her? Pressing his lips together, he picked up his shampoo. But she stopped him and took the plastic bottle. "Let me."

"I can do it," he said, trying to grab it. Apparently ignoring him, she turned him around so his chest faced the wall, then got his hair all wet. It felt childish at first, but he realized that was silly. She'd never treated him that way, not once since they'd met. So he went along with what she was doing and tried to relax. The sensation of her massaging him made that easy.

She slowed as Lawrence Welk started playing, the song muffled by the humidity of the room. "This music is older than I am." There was a slight tugging on his scalp as she got caught in his loose curls. "You really like antiques."

"That's why I'm with you." He chuckled at himself when she swatted his bottom, proud of his quick comeback. But then his eye started to burn and he squinted. "Shit. Hold on," he said, lifting his face towards the shower head.

The rub of the washcloth across his shoulders, then lower and lower still, prompted him to look down. She'd stepped closer, one of her feet between his. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, her fingertips ghosting over his heated skin. He found he could only nod. "Good." The cloth fell to the bottom of the tub, next to their feet, the impact splashing his ankle.

Her arms snaked around him, and he shut his eyes at the press of her breasts to his back . Her palm went to his chest, then glided down, teasing each rib until she reached his taut abdomen. He responded to her caresses, growing erect as she got closer to his dark curls. A huff left his parted lips as her fingers enclosed around his length, gently sliding up and down. The slick of the soap let her slip over him easily, and it felt incredible, even moreso because he'd yearned for it. It only took a few seconds for him to harden to the point where it was painful.

He bit his lip, her delicate grazes causing him to tremble. But then she started to withdraw, and he thought she'd mistaken his reaction. He grasped her hand and opened his eyes. "Don't. Please."

"Tell me what you want," she said against his shoulder.

What he wanted? He longed for Y/N to take his last name (even though it was far too soon to suggest that), to make it feel like it was his again after the lies he’d uncovered. He needed to accept that he belonged in her home, in their home, and stop doubting. And now, with their legs entwined under the flowing water, he wanted her to keep touching him.

Challenging himself, he watched as he slowly guided her over his cock. The eroticism of the sight halted his breathing. "Y/N..," he groaned, bracing his forearm on the dark blue tile wall. Her fingertips reached out and traced the edge of his swollen, red head, and he rutted forward. When her nails dug the skin of his thigh, he thrust into her touch again. Her breath was hot on his neck as her hips followed his. It was becoming too much too fast - he wanted to be inside her instead of spending all over their hands and the floor.

Spinning to face her, he clasped her sides and drew her flush to him, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. Her eyelids were heavy, her pupils dilated with desire. Drops ran down the plains of her face from her hair, over her brow and cheekbones. Unable to wait any longer, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth to her. The contact burned and he twisted them to press her against the wall, slipping his tongue between her lips. She took his erection, then, and brought it to her labia.

At first Arthur was surprised, believing her to be going too quickly for the intimacy he craved. But instead of taking him inside her, she slid his tip over her burning, wet folds, and he bucked towards her. Her giggle was wicked, but turned to a soft moan as she went faster and shivered. She was teasing them both, and every swipe of him along her core tickled the nerve endings up and down his shaft.

He hungered to taste her, and batted her hand away before kissing down the side of her neck, fondling her breast as he thumbed the peak of it. Her soft cry bounced off the glass door, and his fingers went between her legs, sinking into her  soft center. His open-mouth and tongue followed as he knelt before her. The musky scent of her filled his senses as he nuzzled the feminine curve of her abdomen. Just as he was getting into the right position, the spray of the shower hit the side of his face and ear unpleasantly and he flinched.

Y/N giggled and stroked his hair away from his forehead with sympathy, then inched down the wall towards the end of the tub, holding his arm as he followed on his knees. It felt slapstick - he had to laugh at his own awkwardness. But that faded as soon as he gazed up at her. One foot was situated on her side of the tub, opening her wide to him. Rivulets were trailing down her shoulders, the slopes of her chest, catching on her nipples. And she was smiling down at him, affection as clear as the water they were standing and kneeling in. "This was supposed to be about you."

"It still is," he rasped as he spread her lips with his thumbs, then licked a line from her entrance to her clit. Her response was immediate, rolling into his mouth and calling his name. He kept his eyes on her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts with each exhalation, and the way her head tipped to touch the tiles. One of her hands went to the ceramic soap dish on the wall, holding it in a white-knuckle grip, while the other went to his shoulder.

It was funny, he reflected, even as he laved at her. He'd fantasized about this act within the first week of meeting her. From what he'd seen and heard, women were supposed to like it. He hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he did, though. The strength of her responses always made him feel good about himself - and turned him on beyond belief. And knowing no one else was allowed to do this to her, that she was his alone, satisfied him.

There was more of her slick with every sweep of the tip of his tongue, and he savored its taste as he closed his lips around her clitoral hood. Her grip tightened as she put more of her weight on him. She must have been having a hard time continuing to stand. His palms went to her quivering thighs and he pushed, anchoring her as her slight movements stuttered. With a series of soft cries and pants, she started throbbing against him, and he brought her tighter to his mouth, his licks tenderly persistent as he groaned into her.

Once her spasms halted, he stood and pressed his forehead to hers. With a smile on her face, she wrapped an arm around him. Then she reached between them and helped him ease up inside her. It went more smoothly than he had assumed. And he hadn't guessed it would be quite so comfortable, standing instead of laying down (which they'd always done so far). But the scorching stretch of her surrounding him felt wonderful, even at this angle.

"I missed this." Her breath brushed his jawline as the muscles around his cock tightened. “I wish you could stay inside me forever.”

A short, muffled laugh escaped him, then became an amused hum. "That's a long time." His frame shuddered as he grasped her rear, holding her as he withdrew a few centimeters. "I don't wanna go fast," he said, ending on a grunt, nuzzling her cheek.

She held the nape of his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. "Fuck me like you kiss me," she whispered. A small, pleased hiccup caught in his throat before he locked his lips with hers. Where had she learned to speak so shamelessly? It drove him crazy. He bent his head, opening his mouth to deepen their connection. But the unhurried, shallow plunging of his hips, her walls repeatedly accepting him, enveloping him, soon prevented him from concentrating on anything other than the need to finish.

She was moving, just enough to meet him, still letting him control the rhythm. Blindly, he grasped at the wall, pushing his face to her neck as he screwed his eyes shut. The newness of this, the nearly two weeks without her, and the eager clutch of her body were fighting him deliciously. It was ending too fast, and the ability to slow down was slipping away.

Somehow he was still holding himself up. He thrust harder, deeper, striving for the few seconds of serenity he only experienced after losing himself in her. One final push and the pressure in him broke, and he gasped and spilled inside her. The music in the background faded, drowned out by the hushed moans and whimpers passing between their lips as he pressed her into the tiles. Stilling, he kept himself buried in her until the gentle waves of his climax ended and his muscles went slack.

Y/N was rubbing his back, kissing his shoulder, neck, then face. His pulse skipped at those tender touches, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yes." He carefully left the grip of her entrance.

Cupping his face, she leaned her nose to his cheek. “Good.” Then she grabbed the washcloth from the tub, wiped herself off, and hopped out of the shower. Arthur shook his head, smirking as he cleaned himself. When he slid the door open, she was there in her sweatshirt and pants, and she gave him his towel. “I know you prefer these,” she said, putting his thermal shirt and pajamas on the sink. “I don't want to tell you what to wear. But you can lounge in our home. Plus,” she continued, grinning, “your arms look great in that shirt.”

He deduced she must have grabbed them while he was finishing up. A bashful smile broke across his cheeks and he ducked his head. "Thanks. You always know what to say." Shrugging, he shook his head. "You always do that. Make things better." Then he took her hand and pulled her closer, leaning into her. "I really am glad I'm here." Gazing at their entwined fingers, he gave a small squeeze. "I don't ever want to leave," he said quietly.

"Don't worry," she said, tone upbeat. "You're stuck with me for good." Y/N planted a kiss on him and walked out of the bathroom. "I'll start dinner. Join me when you're ready."

Even if it was something simple, Arthur enjoyed cooking with her. Hurriedly, he wrung out and dried his hair, then ran the plush cloth over his arms, torso, and legs. Not caring his clothes were getting wet, he pulled them on and ran out after her.

~~~~~

Lawrence Welk - The Moon is a Silver Dollar

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @ithinkimaperson​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​ @tsukiakarinobara​

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 110

110

  It’d been a long time since Keith woke up screaming. He didn’t know he was screaming until the bedroom light flicked on and Shiro came rushing in. Lance was already holding him, tears running down Keith’s face, mingling with the sweat that covered him. Shaking in his boyfriend’s hold, his screams died out, broken sobs falling in their place. Kissing his hair, Lance held him tightly, Shiro letting out a long breath in relief, not that he could hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. God. Fucking nightmares. He hadn’t had one this bad in so long. Lance always seemed to chase them away... well, nearly always... most of the time. Thank fuck it wasn’t real. Thank fuck Lance was okay.

  “Kiddo? Old or new?”

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Shiro hugged him from the other side, waiting the long moment and a half for Keith to finally catch his breath. Fuck. It’d been messed up. Shiro knew sometimes he couldn’t talk about new nightmares

“Old and new”

“Want me to stay?”

“Yeah... fuck... fuck...”

Lance nuzzled into his hair

“You’re okay, we’ve got you, babe...”

“Sorry... fuck...”

“It’s alright. Lance, wanna get him settled while I turn the light out?”

“On it... come here, babe...”

“Where’s Kosmo?”

He’d been on the end of the bed when they’d fallen asleep... Shiro volunteering

“I’ll get him”

   Lance laid on his back with cuddling into his chest, Shiro curled up behind him and Kosmo at their feet. It was a narrow fit, and he still couldn’t calm his heart rate down. Lance was stroking his hair, behind him Shiro’s breath tickled his shoulder. He didn’t want to go back to sleep... and he didn’t want to be up. There was greyness in the room, the sun must be rising soon...

“Babe, you don’t have to talk, but do you want to tell us what it was about?”

Stupid Lance wanting to talk. He felt foolish for how vivid the nightmare was...

“You don’t have to. New can be pretty bad...”

At this rate Shiro and Lance were likely to bicker about whether he should talk or not. He talked to Lance... it’d take a while and something he made no sense at all

“Dad...”

Shiro made an “Ah” noise. Nightmares about his dad had stuck with him since he was kid

“Oh, babe... hey, it was just a horrible horrible dream. You’re okay. You’re okay”

Lance comforted him gently, Keith feeling a sob welling up as he nosed into his boyfriend’s chest

“You were in... in the fire... and I couldn’t get you... and the baby kept crying... but I couldn’t find you... and then...”

“Okay... hey, I’m okay... I’m okay... this little one is still okay...”

“It was so fucking real”

“You were screaming, I guess that makes sense... I’m here. We’re okay”

“It’s so fucking stupid”

  He was angry at himself for making a scene. Today was ultrasound day... he’d planned to take the morning easy... It’d been all he’d thought about the day before

“Babe, it’s not stupid. That’s like saying my nightmares are stupid... you can’t help what happens when your sleeping”

“But I couldn’t find you...”

He could almost hear the cries of the baby as his family burned alive

“You found me now... I’ve got you, Keith. I’ve got you... you’re safe and we’re okay, we’re all okay... just let it out”

  Keith didn’t mean to fall back to sleep, but he woke easily when Lance moved beneath him. Shiro still holding him as he slept, very groggily he mumbled

“Babe?”

“Bathroom...”

“Okay...”

Kosmo jumped off the bed, his nails clattering on the floor as he padded after Lance. Fuck... he wished he couldn’t remember his stupid nightmare. He didn’t know the house. He didn’t know how he’d even wound up in the house... He didn’t know if Lance was the only one burning, other than the baby... he just hadn’t been in time to be there... He wanted to see their friends. Not simply talk to them over the phone, Pidge had called to abuse them for Keith “not sharing Lance”. They hadn’t talked about Lance going home, but he also hadn’t really thought about them hanging out in Platt. Curtis had stayed with Lance the previous day, the pair of them in the kitchen when Keith and Shiro finally got home, Keith trying not to be worried as Lance “wasn’t made of glass”.

   Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sighed softly as he crawled under the covers, his boyfriend way too cold, like a block of ice, Keith shuddering

“Sorry, babe... it’s a cold one. It’s been snowing all night”

Mumbling, he wriggled back against Shiro

“Fuck the snow”

“It’s not that bad. Now stop running away, I’m freezing”

“That’s why I’m running away”

“So rude... fine, be that way”

Rolling away from him, Lance was now too far away, Keith wrapping his arm around him, despite him being a walking ice block.

    *

Shiro left to pick up Miriam alone as Keith didn’t want Lance in a car in such slippery weather. He didn’t want Shiro out their either, or Mami, yet today was the day. Lance was not happy. His vampire bundled up in an obscene bundles of layers, tracking through the snow with anger in every step. Soft and gentle Lance was gone, his boyfriend acting as if the snow had insulted his ancestors.

  Making into the bookstore, Lance huffed as he rubbed his upper arms. Snowflakes on his lashes and his lips blue, striding angrily over to the elevator

“Babe?”

“Fuck the snow”

Keith didn’t think Lance minded the snow that much. Breakfast hadn’t gone as planned, Keith dragging himself around as Lance hid away in his room, only to waddled out for blood, then again to start drinking water before the ultrasound. Shiro hovered, being lame, teasing him about dual wielding two cups of coffee, when Keith needed both of them to calm his nerves and another cup before Shiro took his coffee privileges away. Keith felt like both Lance and Shiro were being careful to make him feel like he didn’t interrupt the night with his screaming.

  Huffing and sighing, Lance brushed his hands away as Keith brushed the snow from his shoulders in the elevator

“Babe?”

Lance took pity on him, sighing again as he shuffled a little so he could lean against Keith, taking his hand and his. Having no mittens, Lance had stolen a set of his work gloves... then pulled socks over his hand

“Vampires don’t do well in the snow. This vampire doesn’t do well in the snow. Fucking stinking snow”

“I thought you didn’t mind the snow”

“I don’t... I just don’t like that it makes cold. It’s nicer when it’s outside the window and not attempting to freeze me solid”

“Vampires don’t usually seem to have much trouble in the snow. Not from what I’ve seen”

“Those lucky wankers... I like to think I’m a tropical vampire... made for the sun and the surf”

Keith snorted at his boyfriend. He pictured Lance falling off repeatedly despite his vampire senses

“Babe. You’re not coordinated enough to surf”

“Excuse you, I can surf. I can swim too... plus I don’t wear my glasses when I’m surfing”

“So you cheat”

Lance huffed, not impressed

“Shut up... fuck... my phones vibrating but I don’t know what layer it’s in”

“You’re the one who put so many layers on”

“And I would be wearing a sleeping bag over them all if I’d found one. I need to get some heat packs... winter has no mercy”

  Coran was there to meet them at the elevator as the door opened, the man chuckling at Lance

“I thought you might be bundled up. How many layers did you get on this time?”

“7... and no where enough”

“Never you mind, we’ll get you warmed up in a jiffy. Left my office heating up just for you. Now, how’s my baby doing?”

“How am I supposed to know, that’s why we’re here”

A cold Lance was a snarky Lance, Coran chuckling again

“Right you are. Come on through and we’ll get you out some of those layers. Shiro is bringing Miriam?”

“Yeah, because someone decided I’m not allowed in a car on a snowy day”

“Let him fuss. It’s a big day for the both of you. I’ll get you comfortable and take your bloods, they can process as we wait”

“Hurray”

  There was no cheer in Lance’s voice. Keith nervous as all hell over the ultrasound, but more worried about the health of the baby thanks to Lance being so cold. He hadn’t thought about how Lance’s low core temperature might affect their child. He’d been mentally practicing how to ask what he wanted to about Lance and fresh blood, his courage all used up between the question and the scan. Towed along to Coran’s office, the room was like a furnace, heat slapping him in the face as Coran opened the door

“Warmth!”

Lance let him go, happy to walk over to the examination bed. This wasn’t warm. This was like the upper level of hell, or however it worked down there. Whatever the coolest part of the depths of hell was like heat wise, this was it. Struggling with his top jacket, Lance whined as he couldn’t get the zipper undone. Keith forced to enter into the furnace.

  As Lance stripped, Keith helped until he found himself all sweaty and settled for holding Lance’s still cold hand. Coran turning down the heat when noticed how damp Keith’s hairline was getting, making Lance pout. As he’d helped his boyfriend out of his layers, he didn’t question Lance wearing two sets of pants, to match his three shirts, jumper, second jumper, and jacket, instead he teased him in an attempt to settle his nerves

“Are you sure you put enough on?”

Lance pouted at him. Those big blue eyes nearly had him caving and he wasn’t sure what over

“It was cold outside... I like to be kept at room temperature, not below”

“Now, now, boys. This isn’t the time for fighting. Lance, go ahead and lay down. You know Keith wasn’t experienced you during winter”

This was an actual “thing” then? Lance being snarky when he cold? No one warned him about that. Lance included

“No. He had to experience me being an arsehole though. He’s been very considerate and I’ve been the anti-Christ... I’ve become spoilt rotten with his love”

Laughing at them, Coran moved to prepare the tubes for blood sample collection

“You have found a good man. Excellent worth ethic. Have you developed any symptoms since your last stay?”

  Lance settled himself down on the table, smiling up at Keith as he placed a hand on his belly, other hand holding Keith’s loosely. Keith had working hard to remember to touch Lance there, he swore his boyfriend let out a happy chirp when he’d rubbed his belly in bed. Mami helped Lance relax. Keith catching his boyfriend taking photos of his stomach. He didn’t want to be one of those social media parents who posted everything for all the world to see... He couldn’t do it. Not when his mind liked to remind him there were plenty of sickos out there, but he did want to “document” the growth of their baby

“Nope. We’ve got a few questions though”

“Go ahead. I’ll answer the very best I can”

  Lance opened and closed his mouth, Keith trying not to blurt out anything stupid as his boyfriend was clearly thinking hard enough it looked as if it hurt

“It’s rare to see you so lost for words, my boy. Maybe we’ll get through my questions first?”

Lance nodded, Coran humming happily

“Excellent. Now. Have you been eating?”

Lance sighed, Keith deciding maybe he should answer for Lance

“He has. Shiro and I have been hounding him, and so has Mami”

“Excellent. And how long has it been staying down?”

That one he couldn’t answer

“Half and hour to maybe an hour at a maximum. 5 meals a day is going to make me fat”

“You burn through everything so fast that a high calorie intake is best. Blood consumption?”

“About the same”

“Hunger?”

Lance frowned. He kind of looked like he needed to use the toilet, like he was constipated... The cold really must have slowed him down

“Mmm... I’m not sure... I still do one bag a day”

  Coran hummed again as brought over a kidney bowl, the cannula, needles, and collection tubes. Now was Keith’s time. The best time to ask

“Would fresh blood be better than a bag a day?”

Lance settled his expression into something neutral that screamed he didn’t think this was the best time

“Ah, the ol’ “bag VS fresh battle””

“Keith wants to feed me and I don’t want to hurt him...”

“A little wouldn’t hurt, though I suspect your daily intake will grow to match the needs of your body as your pregnancy progresses”

“How much is a little?”

“A third of a bag of fresh in the morning. A good feed would keep you topped up all day. Plenty of fresh energy and quintessence”

  Lance winced as Coran slid the cannula in

“I refuse to hurt Keith”

“You may not have a choice if your body begins to reject other blood in favour of the same time as the father”

Lance went pale, Keith’s colour also washing out his face.  That was a thing?

“You didn’t mention that before!”

“We have no real guide for this thing. I can see you’ve both discussed and found yourselves unsure. Small feeds will not harm Keith, though you may suffer from an inflated ego each time until you learn to control your egos exposure. Am I right I assuming you are worried how the blood will interact with Lance’s organs and your child?”

  Keith nodded at Coran, finding himself staring at the blood filling the collection tube. How much of that blood was Lance’s? Did his body convert strangers blood or did it simply move about inside of him? He didn’t realise he was being quite for so long that he’d worried Lance

“Babe? Sorry, Coran. We... honestly are trying to work this out. We want to do what is best for the baby but we’re both working things out still. We don’t want to risk losing it...”

Coran smoothly swapped the tubes out, nodding as he did

“That’s understandable. Preparent jitters. I once treated a werewolf with a particularly nasty fear of blood. When she went into labour, Allura had to hold her head up or she’d faint at the sight of each newborn. Jitters are normal. Now, have you two been sexually intimate since you left?”

  They made a baby, Keith shouldn’t feel so embarrassed over that question

“No. We weren’t sure if it was safe and we’re working back towards that”

“No petting? No touching? My dear boys, I can’t imagine how you’ve kept your hands off each other with how physical you both are towards each other”

Lance shrugged

“It’s fine. We had a talk after I lost my shit and I get I was placing a lot of pressure on Keith without thinking things through... we haven’t had sex... is that even safe?”

“Resting did your body good. Indulge in moderation, provided the ultrasound results are clear. Many people at this stage still don’t know their pregnant. It reminds me of this clan of werewolves I stayed with... Great times, very limber and excellent stamina. Taught this young fae a thing or three...”

Coran was off onto another story, Lance pulling him back on track

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Oh, um, absolutely nothing. I was thinking how the clan leaders daughter had no shame in revelling in pleasure or her body. She refused to take a single mate, then she ran off with a human. She was really something else... Ah, well, she didn’t know she was pregnant to her lover at the time. It wasn’t until she was just about due that she popped over night. Brought him back to the clan and he was turned in time to see her intimate with a female wolf, before birthing the first of their children. The three of them had quite their hands full. I believe it was 8 or 9 children between them... Now, her brother. He was a whole other experience. One night with him and his mates...”

  “Coran!”

Lance used the exact same tone he used on his Mami. Keith didn’t want to think about what Coran and the werewolves had been up to. The Coran before him was nothing like the wild and adventurous Coran that seemed to have existed back in the days of fairytales. Surely more than half of what he said had to be that... a fae wouldn’t last in a wolf pack come spring. He’d be torn apart... Keith felt lip raise in disgust, that wasn’t really disgust but more like “what the hell, I didn’t need to know that”. What Coran did was his business but the idea... nope. He could do without

“Yes, you’re right. I am letting myself be swept away by my youth. You and Keith are much tamer than all of that. A little heavy touching and sex won’t hurt, as long as you’re not throwing each other against walls and beating on each other as you... Keith, are you alright? You’ve gone quite red”

Lance defended him, Keith grateful

“That’s because you’re getting sidetracked with stories. Keith and I... we’d prefer to keep what we do between us... and I like it better that way”

“Of course, you are both private in that regard... never mind this old fae reliving his youth. I do hope Shiro and Miriam arrive shortly, I’m most excited to see your child again”

“And I have to pee... oh, fuck, that’s right. Babe, can you get my phone? I want to record this and I need to see who rang”

Keith leaned down and kissed Lance on the forehead

“Sure thing”

   Lance was squirming by the time Shiro and Miriam arrived half an hour later. Pidge had called, Lance messaging her that he’d call her back once he was free. Miriam as rugged up as Lance had been, though she had an excuse being older and all. Coming to Lance’s side, she took his left hand as she brushed his fringe back lovingly

“I’m here, Mijo... I didn’t miss the excitement did I?”

“No, Mami... but we need to get started, I seriously need to pee”

“This cold weather is horrible for that. Never like this in Cuba. 37 years and you’d think I’d be used to it”

Mami chuckled, Keith finding Shiro standing near the door. He didn’t want to kick his brother out

“Shiro, you’re staying, right?”

Shiro shrugged, playing it cool. Keith knew he was excited and worried as the rest of them

“If you want me to”

Lance looked so much happier now Miriam was here, leaning up, he smiled at Shiro

“Dude, you’re part of the family... but close the door. I think we have enough people in here without letting stragglers in”

   Lance flinched as Coran smeared gel across his belly. His boyfriend gripping his hand nearly to the point of being painful. The pain helping Keith focus and not show all his worry over the results

“Let’s get started... you all ready?”

Lance groaned at Coran

“I’m past ready. If you get peed on, I’d like to blame the insane amount of water you had me chug”

Coran laughed as he swapped the bottle of gel for the ultrasound wand

“In that case let’s take a look”

  It was surreal the first time around, the second time Keith still found he couldn’t quite believe that blackness was supposed to their baby, Mami getting sniffly, not that he didn’t have tears in his own eyes... He felt really stupid for not being able to process that surrounded by what looked like grey fish was their baby. Their’s. They’d made an actual baby and it was still there... Not like when his goldfish died...

  Miriam kissed Lance’s cheek, both of them brimming with pride

“Oh, Mijo... they didn’t have these fancy things when I started birthing you lot... to think you were that tiny inside of me”

Coran sniffled. Who knew a good ultrasound could be such an emotional thing

“Everything looks good... I’m seeing one... and I’d definitely say you’re roughly six weeks meaning you’ll be due in June... provided this advances like a normal human pregnancy... Now, let me take some photos and get some measurements on this little one”

“When will we be able to hear the heartbeat?”

An image was good and all, but it didn’t tell them it was really... that everything was alright... Keith’s shock had hit him for six again

“The internet said 7-8 weeks”

Lance blushed, Keith realising his boyfriend must have googled the hell out of being pregnant

“We’ll have your next scan at 8 weeks, provided things progress smoothly. It’ll be a nice thing to return home to after your weekend away”

  That was right. Lance stubbornly refused to cancel Keith’s birthday weekend

“Will Lance be up for that? It’s a lot of walking”

A hell of a lot of walking especially when Lance didn’t hike to begin with

“He should be fine. The main reason for rest was that bleed, but this little one is stubborn. Are you still having your vitamin shakes?”

Lance nodded. The shakes didn’t seem to stay down that long, less than human food

“Yeah. Twice a day...”

His boyfriend didn’t love the flavour. Maybe he should mix a little blood in there... It was probably the taste that had them coming back up

“Excellent. Those, with the injections, will help. You’ll need to keep your body temperature up. Heat pads and heat bags, and avoid prolonged periods in the cold”

“And going home?”

  They hadn’t had that discussion...

“As smoothly as things are at the moment, I would still prefer you remained in Platt, at least during the night. You may visit, but I have noticed you’re particularly clingy to Keith right now. I think staying with him will help continue to keep your hormonal and emotional levels stabilised. You react strongly to touch and scent”

“Should I be taking off work?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“Babe, I’ll be okay. I know you want to be with me, but you’ll lose track of everything if your focus is on me alone...”

“I don’t want you alone if it isn’t good for you”

Coran chuckled at the pair of them

“Lance doesn’t like to be smothered, even by you. He’s very stubborn like that. I’ll check the schedule with Kolivan, he’s been forced to swallow his pride over the stalling in the search for Sendak. I’m sure if he was made aware...”

“No!”

It wasn’t a yell, but it wasn’t not a yell. More like a very heated and very solid “No way in hell”.  Lance sighing softly at him, a sigh that told him they’d be having a serious talk about this later. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. Coran looking almost confusidly alarmed. Mami still watching the black blob on the screen. Keith’s gaze dropping to his feet. He didn’t want special treatment... that so ingrained in him that it made it hard to be honest

“We’re waiting. Until things settle down, we’re waiting...”

“Keith is right. It’s not like we’re not going to tell them, but for now we’re doing what’s right for us. We want to wait and grow a bit more confident over what’s happening”

  This is why he had Lance. Lance translated his stupid words into something other people got. The baby might be there now, but he just... He was a feeling a lot of things he couldn’t verbalise. Excited. Proud. Shaken. Drained. Slightly horny... Proud. Worried. A lot of things. Rubbing the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb, Lance drew his gaze back to him. His boyfriend smiling at him, expression filled with love and wonder. He felt kind of chicken shit for being more scared of a baby than a vampire

“It’s okay, Babe. You don’t need to look so sad. I’m okay, and this little one is still there. Soooo, Mami, what do you think?”

Lance effortless took the attention off him and he was grateful

“I think that old Colleen has nothing with her new great-great-grandson. Not when my baby boy is going to be a father. Oh, I can’t wait to rub this in her face”

“Mami... Seriously, who knew nursing homes could be so competitive. Next you’ll be taking bets”

  Mami laughed as she patted Lance’s hand. Shiro took the bait

“If we’re taking bets, I’m betting on a boy”

Lance laughed then cut himself off, moving his hand to his belly

“Oh, god. Don’t make me laugh... Coran, are you nearly done?”

“A few more clicks... Hmm... a betting pool isn’t a bad idea”

“Put me down for a girl. Call it mother’s intuition”

Shiro nodded, pulling out his phone

“We’ve got a boy from Coran. A girl from Miriam. Sorry, Miriam, I’ll side with Coran on that one... Two for a boy... Keith, what should I put you down for?”

  Keith didn’t know... either would be adorable if they took after Lance...

“Don’t tease him like this. We don’t mind as long as their healthy”

“You two are no fun. Shall we say $50 to winner? Or split the pot?”

“I’ll be happy to take your money... don’t go leaving town before you pay up”

Mami was ruthless, Shiro snorting with laughter. Lance squirming again

“Guys, seriously. Not cool”

Coran apologetic as he clicked the mouse connected to the ultrasound machine

“I’m sorry, Lance... give me... okay, there we go... all done”

Lance let out a long breath of relief, starting to sit up, despite his belly still covered in gel, the moment Coran pulled the wand off

“Thank God for that... sorry, Mami... I just really need to pee”  

Mami didn’t mind, she probably understood. From the movies Keith knew pregnant people seemed to need to pee a lot

“Off you go. Why don’t you take Keith with you?”

“Yes, why don’t you two have a few moments to process today’s scans while I clean up here. Off you boys go”

  It felt like they’d been evicted as they headed to the locker room, Lance striding in ahead of him, leaving Keith to drag his steps so his boyfriend could have some privacy peeing. When he finally made it into the shower/toilet area, Lance had locked himself away in a cubicle, Keith wondering if it was weird as he stood outside the door

“Babe?”

“I’m all good... this lube stuff is seriously sticky”

Keith snorted. Lance didn’t love sticky things but seemed perfectly fine with it during sex

“Want help?”

“Nah... hold on”

Opening the door, Lance was rubbing at his belly with a wad of toilet paper

“See, almost all gone. God... I really needed to pee. Next time I’m waiting before drinking that water... I felt like I was going to burst when Coran pressed on my stomach”

“I’m sorry”

“What are you apologising for? You’re not the one with a bladder that decided it needed to be pea sized today”

  Keith shrugged, stepping back out the way, Lance slipping past him, throwing the toilet paper in the bin before washing his hands

“I don’t know. I don’t like you being uncomfortable”

“Babe, I’m fine. Crisis adverted... How are you? You didn’t say much, but you’ve still got tears in your eyes”

“It was kind of amazing... I guess...”

His boyfriend huffed at him, crossing to close the distance between them before pulling him into a hug

“More than amazing. I’m okay and the baby is too”

“I’m sorry... it’s just... I’m still scared”

“That’s why you asked about the heartbeat. It doesn’t really feel like this ball of cells is going to be an actual person”

“I’m still scared it’s not going to be”

Lance nuzzled into his neck

“I know, but... it’s... we can still be happy, you know. I know we over think things, but Coran isn’t messing around”

“No... sounds like he did enough of that when he was younger”

  Lance laughed, raising his head to shoot a brilliant smile at him

“That he did... but good news, us messing around won’t hurt this little one. Before you say it, I know you want to wait, but honestly I feel so happy right now I want to cry that I’m about to jump up”

Keith was not prepared. Lance jumping up and looping his legs around his waist had him stumbling into the closest sink. Laughing happily, Lance clang to him, Keith not even grumpy about the lack of warning as his boyfriend dived in to kiss him. Several long kisses later, Lance pulled back enough to lap at the blood beading on Keith’s lips

“I love you, Keith Kogane”

“I love you, too, Lance Bratty-Arse McClain”

Lance’s happiness was infectious. Keith grinning up at Lance, his hands supporting his boyfriend by his arse

“Good. Because you and me, we made a baby, and it honestly feels like things are looking up... like a whole baby, babe... we did that... I was so worried trying to think of what to say if today hadn’t gone well... and I know I’m getting ahead of myself...”

“Babe, shut up, I get it. You’re happy”

“Very... and cold. This place is freezing...”

   Keith snorted. The shower area wasn’t that cold. Lance was being a baby

“That’s because you’re like an ice block”

“Am I at least a cute one?”

“Very... but I don’t know if I should be feeding your ego. 6 weeks is still really early”

“Mhmm... but for now, can we just be kind of really in awe...”

“Can I be shocked? I’m still really fucking shocked”

Lance laughed at him. God. He felt like it’d been too long since Lance was jumping into his arms happily

“I am too. I don’t know why I decided to leap up on you, but I feel really good that this little one is okay. Should I get down?”

“Nah, you’re fine... I feel like you haven’t been smiling much lately”

“I feel like I didn’t have as much to smile about... just wait until the embarrassment kicks in...”

“For jumping on me?”

“For letting myself be happy. Are you happy? Are you okay? I’ve been all about me and today hit you hard”

“I’ve been... better... but I feel better knowing the scan was good”

   “That’s good. You always stress so much. You’re going to get wrinkles way too young”

The way Lance pout at him made him want to kiss him all over again. Which was playing with fire... Once the relief had worn off, and he was back to feeling himself, he’d have to reassess how he felt over being intimate

“And you’re a brat. What happened to the 45 year old dressed in seven layers?”

“Coran heated the office. Rose my core temperature... but you’ll snuggle with at home, keep me warm, right?”

“Depends. You were fucking freezing when you came back to bed”

“Mmm, but you were nice and warm... Wanna go home and watch the scan again? The two of us? Pidge wants me to call again, but right now that’s what I want to do...”

That sounded nice

“Sure... provided you behave long enough to get home”

“I always behave. It’s the snow that’s out to get me, not the other way around”

“Right... I’m pretty sure snow is older than your old arse”

  Keith regretted the words as soon as he saw Lance’s face fell. His boyfriend climbing out of his arms to wrap his arms around his waist in a self hug

“Babe... I was joking”

“But that’s the thing... maybe I am too old? And what do we tell them when they notice I don’t age? I’m old... like way older than you... you could be happier with...”

Nope. Grabbing Lance, Keith pulled him back

“I shouldn’t have said it like that. I like you, and you’re not that old”

Lance raised his right hand to rub at his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his glasses today. His boyfriend really wanted to see the scan clearly

“I’m 45... most people have kids your age... and... I know you were joking. I do... but it’s something I’ve been thinking about. Fuck. Here I was lecturing you and now I’m... I’m sorry”

“It bothers you a lot, doesn’t it?”

He’d been careful with the grey hair jokes because he knew Lance still held a lot of sensitivity over them... Making a mental joke, he was going to have to avoid age jokes all together for now

“Yeah... I was trying not to think about it... but like, I don’t get older... and I hate it so much... I know you’re okay with it, but it’s something I’m not okay with... throw it in with my body changing and it’s... yeah... Sorry. Can we go home now?”

The change in Lance just about gave him whiplash

“You know I don’t care about that... You’re still you”

Lance hardly acted his age, unless he needed to. He was so full of love and life... Keith liked the man inside the body... though the body was pretty smoking hot

“I do... I mean. I know. It hit me again out of nowhere... I think... maybe I’m going to have some problems with it until I settle down. I’m like so relieved they’re okay that it’s not even funny”

“Me too. Do you want to get anything on the way home?”

“Nah... I just... I just want to watch the scan alone with you... I love Mami and I love Shiro and Coran, but I want to watch you watch it again...”

“Why? What did I do?”

“You were crying but you were smiling... I really love it when you smile”

  Keith’s heart went funny as he ducked his head. Only Lance could make him feel like this... and feel braver about that letter

“When we get home, there’s something I want... I need you to see with me”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’ve left it long enough”

“Alright, Mullet. Let’s go... I feel pretty rude leaving but I need some alone time with you right now”

Mami had come for the scan and sure, Keith liked her, but Lance and their baby came first. Besides, the scan was over... He wasn’t letting Lance go out in this weather on those slippery roads. His heart had enough trouble letting Shiro drive around

“Yeah. Funnily enough I do to”

[trashyswitch]

Marvin’s Favorite Spell

Marvin has a favorite spell he's been testing for a while. When Marvin wakes up in a playful mood, he decides to try it out on his friends for the first time!

This fanfiction was loosely based on @franklyshipping​‘s series: ‘Marvin the Mischievous’. I added my own twist to it and everything. The only similar thing is the fact that Marvin is the main character, being all mischievous and stuff.

Marvin is a magician. We all know this. But did you know, he also has a spell book? Marvin's spell book was filled with many spells. Levitation spells, transformation spells, love spells, and millions more! But, there's one specific spell that Marvin keeps bookmarked with the words 'BEST SPELL' on the top of the bookmark.

That spell, is an Invisibility spell.

The invisibility spell is pretty self explanatory: Make yourself invisible. When mixed together, the powder can be initiated by sprinkling it onto yourself. It can be used for hiding things and sneaking around, but it's mostly a fun spell that you can use to mess with your friends. You can make them think the house is haunted, have them believe they have powers, or maybe just make them think they're having bad luck today. All of those possibilities can be achieved through the invisibility spell.

Marvin has been trying this spell out for a while now, in the comfort of his room. No one has seen him turn invisible yet. He's memorized the powder mix, and tested it out just on his own. This way, he's practiced his ability to sneak around quietly and used the powder whenever he pleases. That way, he can use it on his friends without posing any threats or harm. That's the last thing Marvin would want to do to his friends.

This morning though, Marvin woke up in a really playful mood. He almost immediately felt it since the moment he woke up. He wanted to play with someone. Mess with someone. Tickle someone...

Hmm...Tickling isn't a bad idea. Tickling while invisible seems like a genius plan! Marvin, you're a genius! For once in your life, you're a genius!

Marvin pulled out his spell book, and opened it to the bookmarked page: Page 138-139.

'Invisibility Powder

Mix together the following: -1 Fern Leaf -1 tbsp of Dried poppy seeds

Add: -1 tsp Slippery elm powder -1 tsp Myrrh -1 tsp Marjoram -3 small fresh Dillweed branches

Add 9 drops of almond cooking extract with enough spring water to make everything barely moist, and mix in well. Place in a ceramic bowl, spreading as thinly as possible, and dry the mixture over low heat, stirring it occasionally, until it seems lightly browned. Pour back into mortar, and grind again. When finely powdered, store in a clear glass container. It will keep its power for years. Sprinkle, just a little bit, on yourself, objects, or in a place to be made invisible.' Marvin read.

Marvin followed the instructions, placing everything in like he practiced. Then, Marvin placed it into a small bottle. Before putting it away, he sprinkled some onto himself. Then, he put a cork stopper onto the bottle top, and put the bottle in his pocket. Very soon, he could feel the powder taking effect. The moment he couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, he was ready.

Marvin walked out of his room, making sure no one was walking by. He walked out of his room quietly, and began to walk. He walked around the entire house, keeping in mind where everyone was. Thankfully for Marvin, no two people were in 1 room at the same time. This made it easier for Marvin to consider who would be watching his attacks. After memorizing where everyone was, he went to the first victim's location: the kitchen. It was Jackie.

Jackie appeared to be eating a protein bar while leaning on the island. Marvin decided to wait a couple seconds for Jackie to finish his protein bar. Once Jackie finished his protein bar, he threw away the wrapper, and jogged up to his workout room. Quickly slipping through the door as to not raise suspicion, Marvin got into the workout room. He's seen the workout room before, and has watched Jackie workout. He usually started with weights.

Marvin watched as Jackie loaded up the bar with weights, before laying onto the bench set. Grabbing the barbell, he lifted it off the barbell rest, and started lifting, lowering and counting. Marvin walked around the mats that were on the floor, and snuck up behind the barbell rest. After placing the barbell back onto the rest, Marvin decided to attack. He scratched a single finger, into the back of Jackie's neck.

Jackie let out a surprisingly high pitched squeal! Marvin had to retreat his hand to stop himself from laughing. "What the-" Jackie muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. After brushing off the tickly feeling, Jackie decided to pick up the barbell, and do a few more lifts. In the middle of his lifts, Jackie felt a tickly feeling right on his abs.

"AAah! Whohoho's thehehere?!" Jackie asked through his giggles, as he placed the barbell back onto the rest before he lost energy. Marvin retreated his hand, and tried to think of another spot to tickle. Looking down, he noticed that the back of his knees were exposed, thanks to the space between the bench cushions. Marvin smirked as he quietly snuck up to the spot, and laid on his back underneath the bench. Marvin let Jackie do another round of curls, before poking and prodding the bottom of his knees with both his index fingers.

"Hehehehey! Shohohow yohohoursehelf!" Jackie ordered. Marvin removed his fingers. "I demand you to show yourself immedi-" Jackie yelled, before being interrupted by the returning ticklish feeling under his knees. "AAhahahAHAHA! Whohoho ahahare yohohohou?!" Jackie asked through his giggles and spouts of laughter. Jackie tried to sound intimidating, but the ticklish laughter was a lot more controlling than Jackie could've predicted. And unfortunately for him, laughing while making demands didn't intimidate even the most cowardly of villains. Marvin smiled, and decided to try something out. He crawled up to Jackie's shoes, grabbed onto his ankle, and brought his other hand up to his pocket. Marvin grabbed his bottle of powder, and sprinkled some powder onto the shoe. Very soon, the powder took effect and made the foot on the inside appear. He lifted his hand, poking and prodding the now-visibly socked foot.

"Whahahat the hehehehell?! Hohohow are yohohohou dohohohoing thihihis?!" Jackie asked through his light laughter. Jackie was so confused. What was even going on right now?! For Jackie, his foot still felt like the shoe hadn't left his foot at all. So, Jackie thought the criminal was tickling his feet through his shoes. How was this person tickling him through his shoes?! So much for trying to cover his feet up.

Marvin soon found where his toes were, and dug his pinky toe under his toes.

"AAAAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! PLEHEHEHEASE NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!" Jackie begged. Wow...Jackie was already begging?! His toes must tickle a lot, to be begging THIS soon. Marvin smiled and moved his fingers to the inner arch of his foot.

"IHIHI CAHAHAHAN'T BREHEHEHEATH!" Jackie yelled. Marvin smirked before removing both hands. He grabbed the powder once again, sprinkled some on, and watched as the shoe became visible once again. Standing up, Marvin eyed up his slightly tired victim. After a couple more seconds of breathing, Jackie got up, walked into an open space in his workout room, and got himself into a defensive stance.

"I demand you show yourself to me immediately!" Jackie demanded. Marvin rolled his eyes, and shook his head with an eyebrow slightly raised. "If you refuse to follow my orders, then I'll have no choice but to arrest you." Jackie warned in as serious of a tone as he could muster.

Marvin just about snorted at that remark. He sounded so confident, talking to a 'criminal' he couldn't even lay eyes on! How much damage does he think he's gonna cause? How do you attack something that doesn't even have a visual to aim at?

Marvin decided to mess around with him. He ran around, dodging every attack Jackie attempted. Every time Jackie attempted an attack, he would wind up hitting nothing and stumble. That was when Marvin would attack.

Jackie threw a punch and lost his balance for a moment. Marvin ganged up from the side and wiggled his fingers on his exposed side. "EEEEK! Knohohock ihihit ohohohoff!" Jackie said.

Next, Jackie attempted a few punches in one direction. Marvin pretended to silently yawn, before walking up behind him and shoving his hands into Jackie's armpits.

"NAHAHAHAHA! COHOHOHOME OHOHOHON!" Jackie bursted out. His arms came crashing down, as he let out fits of laughter. Pretty soon, Jackie lifted his arms and ran away from the tickly fingers.

To try and land something, Jackie tried a roundhouse kick. This ended up backfiring however, as when his foot came up, Marvin just caught the leg in midair, and wiggled his fingers under his knees again.

"STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAHAT! LEHEHET MEHEHE GOOHOHOHO!" Jackie begged. It was starting to occur to Jackie, just how impossible this fight was gonna be. What was he supposed to do?!

Marvin let go of his leg and walked around him. Jackie decided to wait for the criminal to attack first. So, he waited. Marvin could sense what Jackie was planning. So, he circled the man, poking every ticklish spot he could find. He went for the sides, abs, stomach, neck, back, underarms, knees, and even a couple to the neck. Jackie reacted with either a squeal, a giggle or a yelp each time.

Finally, to end it all off: Marvin went behind him, and drilled his fingers into his hips. Jackie's reaction was priceless! He let out a super loud squeal and absolutely howled with laughter. It didn't take long for Jackie's knees to buckle and hit the ground. His hips were a death spot for him, and no one actually knew this except for Schneeplestein. Or so he thought...

"SHNEHEHEHEHEEP! IHIHIS THAHAHAHAT YOHOHOHOU?!" Jackie asked through his hysterical laughter. Marvin frowned at this, and dug his fingers harder into his hips.

"OHOHOHOHOHO GAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Jackie screamed! He couldn't even properly speak anymore, he was laughing so much! Finally, Marvin finished up. He removed his fingers and walked away. Jackie's whole body collapsed onto a mat, utterly exhausted from the ticklish treatment he was just put through. Was it Dr. Schneeplestein?! If so, how was he invisible? Hopefully, he would get some answers soon...

Marvin's next target, was Chase Brody. Chase was playing video games in the gaming room. Yes, the Egos had a gaming room. The house came with an extra bedroom, which they converted into a gaming room. And in that gaming room, Chase was sitting in front of the big computer screen, playing Burnout Paradise on his Xbox. Marvin slightly opened the door, and checked to make sure he wasn't spotted. Once he was all clear, he opened it a bit more, and squeezed his body through the small opened wedge of the door before closing it.

"LOOK OUT EVERYONE! YA BOY AVERAGE, COMING THROUGH!" Chase shouted, just about giving Marvin a mini heart attack. Marvin jumped about 3 feet in the air, and almost yelled in surprise. That was close...

After calming himself down, Marvin tried to think of how to get his attention. Perhaps turning off the TV might be a good start? Marvin looked around, and found the remote halfway across the room for some reason. So, he grabbed it and turned the TV off.

"What the- COME OOOONN! I WAS SOOOOO CLOOOOSE!" Chase whined. while Chase was complaining, Marvin quickly removed the batteries, put them in his pocket, placed the remote back down and stepped aside. "Where's the remote again?" Chase asked himself. Chase looked around, and soon found the remote on the couch. He picked it up and clicked the power button.

It didn't turn on. Chase clicked it again. Nothing...Confused, he watched the remote as he clicked the power button...none of the buttons were lighting up...strange...

'did the batteries die?' Chase thought. He turned it around, and started to remove the lid from the battery compartment. Suddenly, Chase felt a poke against his stomach. Chase jumped backwards as his voice went wobbly for a moment. Okay...that was weird. He lifted up the battery lid, and noticed something: There were no batteries.

Chase placed the remote down, pulled out his phone and started texting a group text of the roommates in his house. Once the text went out, he placed the phone down. As he was bending down to pick up the remote, he felt a sudden push. Chase winded up losing his balance, and sitting on the ground.

"Alright, who's messing with me- Hehehehahaha! Hehehehey! Whohoho's tihihihihickling mehehehe?!" Chase said, bursting into a fit of giggles. Marvin smiled as he tickled his stomach. It's a good thing he's invisible right now.

"Hellohohohoho?! Who's-" Chase asked, before being interrupted by his own squeal. Marvin had started squeezing and lightly clawing at the sides of his tummy. "WAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! ANYWHEHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!" Chase yelled, bursting into more laughter. It seems Chase was ticklish on his tummy. But what about his belly button?

Marvin dipped his finger into his belly button, and swirled it around. "EEEEEEK! NAHAHAT MY BEHEHELLY BUHUTTON! EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!" Chase begged, turning his body onto his stomach. Marvin frowned. His barrel roll had caused Marvin to lose a couple tickle spots. But, not all hope was lost. While he was there, Marvin decided to try his back muscles around the spine. He used his index finger and his thumb to push against the muscles beside his spine. He would give his muscles a little wiggle, before lifting and pushing his fingers against the spine an inch lower each time. At first, there was less reaction and more questions.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this? Heck, what are you even trying to do? Give me a back massage?"

But the lower down the spine that Marvin got, the more laughter started to show up.

"Wahait! Nahat any lohohower! Plehehease doOHOHOHO- OHOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAD! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAVE- HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHERCYYY!" Chase shouted. His eyes had widened to the size of saucers, before shutting tightly as his fists pounded the floor almost aggressively.

Marvin decided to let him go...for now...He removed his hands and decided to instead, very lightly scratch the back of his neck. This seemed to allow Chase a chance to breath, but still caused some giggles to leave his mouth. "Hahahahahaha! Hahaha...heheheheh..." Chase giggles. The man seemed to be calming down, and surprisingly...Chase was starting to relax.

Chase still had no idea what was going on. He didn't understand how he was being tickled without anybody actually there. But because it involved tickling, he didn't really mind it. Though the laughter was forced, it still made him feel happy. Marvin removed his fingers completely and stood up. He was glad that he could make someone genuinely happy through doing this, but he still had a mission to attend to. So, he grabbed the batteries from his pocket and placed them on a corner table near the door. With the batteries in sight, Marvin left the room.

Marvin walked around, heading for the next target: Henrik's office. Now, Henrik was an interesting one. He had an in-home doctor's office in a small room, that had a door connecting his office to his bedroom. He liked working on medical based things, so Marvin would have to be careful he doesn't damage or ruin something of Henrik's in the process. Marvin already knew where Henrik's worst spots were, but wanted to start off easy. So, he snuck up behind him, waited for him to place something down, and fluttered his fingers on the back of his neck.

"WaAAAh!" Henrik yelped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, embarrassed by the sound he just made. Despite what just happened, Henrik gave the back of his neck a little scratch, and went on with his day. However, he only managed to do this for 5 seconds because suddenly, Marvin drilled his fingers into the sides of Henrik's stomach. This caused a squeal and a giggle to leave his mouth, before he turned around and put his hands up in front of him in self defense. Though it was an attempt, this proved to be pointless, as Marvin snuck up behind him once again and drummed his fingers on Henrik's ribs.

"AAaahahahahehehe!" Henrik laughed and squirmed, falling to his knees as he protected his ribs with his arms. He didn't really understand what was going on, but he wondered if the thing could be grabbed. So, he attempted it. When Marvin would tickle Henrik, Henrik would let himself laugh and try to reach for the spot. It took quite a few tries, but Henrik manged to get something in the middle of his laughing. "AHahahahaha! Gahahatcha!" Henrik cheered through his giggles.

Marvin's eyes widened. How did he know?! Did he know who it was?! Marvin stayed quiet as Henrik felt the thing he was holding. He felt the palm, the wrist, the individual fingers and even the nails.

"...A human...An invisible human." Henrik muttered to himself. Before Henrik could discover anything else, Marvin grabbed his arm with his free hand, and pushed him. He watched as Henrik protested and pulled at his arm, but walked backwards, following him. After a bit more pushing, Marvin felt Henrik's back hit the wall behind him.

"Vhat on earth are you trying to do?!" Henrik yelled. Marvin let his arm go and skittered his fingers on Henrik's ribs again. "Vahahahahait! Ehehexplahahain yohohoursehehelf!" Henrik ordered through his laughter, letting go of Marvin's hand as he succumbed to the ticklish trap. Marvin added his now free hand into the mix, wiggling both hands' digits on Henrik's ribs. Henrik's laughter heightened and grew louder, and his knees started to give way.

Slowly, Henrik was falling and Marvin was bending down, following him down the wall. As Henrik finally hit the ground, Marvin moved his hands to the front, digging into the front of his ribs and into the core muscles. As Marvin expected, Henrik threw back his head and stretched out his legs. "NOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Henrik reacted. He squirmed around, trying to get the mysterious hands away from his ticklish body, but to no avail. Marvin decided to take it up a notch, by switching his hand tactics to clawing and quick vibrating.

The reaction from Henrik was absolutely hilarious! "SCHEHEHEHEHEIßE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHALT! BIHIHIHIHIHIHITTE!" Henrik yelled through his hysterical laughter. Henrik was starting to revert to his native language! That rarely ever happened!

Marvin realized that this was a sign to stop very soon. The doctor kicked, he squirmed, he shook his head, and he swatted at the clawing hands. But nothing could stop the mysterious hands from tickling him. Marvin decided to try out two more spots before he stopped. Marvin moved his hands up to Henrik's armpits first.

"AAAAAAAAAAHH! NEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEIN!" Henrik shouted! His arms had clamped down, trapping his hands under his arms. Maaayybe he should've tried the neck first...

Marvin stopped his fingers, and patiently waited for Henrik to let his hands go. When he did, Marvin shot his right arm up and lightly wiggled his fingers on Henrik's neck.

"Ohohohokay...okahahahay...Zhat's behehetter...Zhahahank yohohou..." Henrik said through his much more calm giggles. Marvin to completely stop, and give the poor man a break. He was afraid he might've gone overboard.

Marvin stood back up, and stared at the exhausted Henrik, who was deeply breathing on the floor. Feeling slightly bad, Marvin went over to the sink, got a glass of water and handed it to him. Henrik smiled, sat back up and took the drink.

"Zhank you...you didn't have to do zhat..." Henrik said, placing the paper cup beside him. Marvin smiled to himself, before leaving the room.

Next, was Jameson Jackson, or JJ/Jamie for short. Henrik looked around, but couldn't find JJ in his room. Strange...he was there earlier...Perhaps he moved?

He walked around for a while longer, soon finding JJ in the living room. He appeared to be working on a jigsaw puzzle of a street with old cars, and a farmer riding a horse. So far, JJ had the cars on the street filled and was starting to put together the hotel building, with the black car parked in between the buildings. Noticing a piece that fit a certain space, Marvin waited for JJ to look away. When he looked away, Marvin grabbed the puzzle piece, and fit it in quickly, before retreating and looking again. JJ looked back at the puzzle, and placed a piece...

'Wait a second..Wasn't that previously an empty space?' JJ thought to himself. Thinking he was losing his mind, JJ ignored it, and started looking around for another piece. While JJ was collecting a few more pieces, Marvin had grabbed a couple pieces and fit them in the right spot. JJ placed a piece in, and noticed it was...already filled? What? JJ looked at his own piece, looked around, and realized where it was actually supposed to go. Placing it in, he tried to wrack his brain to find out when he put that piece in. But...he couldn't recall putting it in at all!

While JJ was thinking, Marvin grabbed a pile of puzzle pieces, and started dragging them together to form a letter.

JJ reached for a pile of pieces, but felt nothing. Looking up, he noticed that the small puzzle pile he made earlier, was missing! Thinking they fell on the floor, he looked under the table...

No puzzle pieces. Looking back up, something caught his eye! A collection of puzzle pieces spelling something out:

'Hi' it said.

JJ's eyes widened, as he leaned away slightly. Is someone messing with him? If so, who?

JJ decided to try something. He pulled a pen out of his jacket, and made a notebook appear in his hand. He used the notebook to write a message.

'Hello.' JJ wrote. He placed the pen and paper on the other side of the table, and worked on the puzzle while he was waiting. After a couple more pieces were placed, JJ looked up to the notebook.

Nothing.

Perhaps he really was losing it. JJ looked back down at his puzzle, and looked around for the pieces of the Hotel sign in his puzzle.

Suddenly, a sound filled his ear...just for a moment. JJ looked up, to see the pen on top of the paper, rather than beside.

...Perhaps, he wasn't losing it? JJ looked at the notebook, and widened his eyes at the strokes of ink below his.

'Cool puzzle!'

JJ looked around him. To the right: no one. to the left: no one. behind him: no one. all around him: an empty room.

JJ narrowed his eyes. He grabbed the pen, wrote something down before placing it down in front of him.

JJ waited. He needed to know. Is there a ghost he wasn't aware of? Who else knew about this ghost? Why was there a ghost in here? What was its na-

JJ's thoughts stopped there, when suddenly...the pen started rising up! JJ jumped back in total shock! GHOST!

Despite what JJ was thinking, Marvin was picking up the pen, and writing down something before dropping the pen and letting it click against the paper. JJ looked at the notebook, and hesitantly picked up the paper with his shaky hand. He grabbed the notebook, watched the pen slide off the notebook and onto the table, and read the paper:

'Look behind you...' it read.

JJ bit his lip, nervous about what to see. He slowly turned around, clenching the notebook with his shaky hand. He opened his squeezed eyes, and looked...

A glove? Scratch that...two gloves were floating in front of him.

One of the gloves waved to him...JJ, not knowing what else to do, waved back.

Eager to get this show on the road, Marvin, with his gloves on, started wiggling his fingers. JJ raised an eyebrow, confused as to what 'wiggling fingers' meant.

The gloves flew towards him, and started examining JJ. One glove grabbed his hat and lifted it off his head, while the other glove felt his hair and ruffled it. JJ, slightly annoyed, grabbed his hat and plopped it back onto his head.

Marvin's gloved hand, now free of the hat, placed its finger on JJ's neck, and scratched the side of his neck. JJ let out a squeal and curled his neck instinctively. With the other gloved hand, Marvin scratched the other side of his neck. JJ scrunched his shoulders, a toothy grin showing up on his face as he tipped his head back. Marvin's fingers continued scratching, until one of the fingers got under the jawline. JJ let out another squeal, as his own hands came up to swat at the gloved hands. The gloved hands didn't budge however, as the other gloved hand only went for the other side of the jawline. JJ threw his head back as his giggles grew a little louder. Marvin smiled to himself. it's working!

Next, the gloved hands went up to JJ's ears. JJ squealed loudly, as his head curled to the side to stop the gloves from tickling his ear. When the other gloved hand went for the other ear, all hell broke loose. JJ bursted out laughing, before falling onto his back. Marvin's gloves followed him, dancing his fingers on JJ's tummy and sides. JJ's smile was toothy and wide, and his squirming was increasing rather quickly. Marvin kept his hands on JJ's tummy, making sure to squish and squeeze his toned belly as well. JJ was laughing and giggling, shaking his head, and signing frantically.

'Stop! Stop, too ticklish!' Marvin could understand through JJ's frantic signs. Marvin smiled at the adorable man below him, as he kept one hand on his belly and used the other hand to go back to scratching his ear. JJ's laughter turned to cackles, as he threw his head back and lost his hat.

Suddenly, the gloved hands started spidering his sides, and walked up, up and up across his ribs, and into his armpits! JJ's arms came crashing down as his body swayed frantically back and forth.

Marvin was absolutely enjoying this! So far, JJ has been the most fun to tickle! Marvin knew JJ was ticklish from watching other people tickle him, but he didn't know how ticklish he really was! That is, until now. At this moment, Marvin had JJ stuck being tickled for a while, and he wanted to appreciate it for as long as he possibly could.

So far, it seemed like JJ's most ticklish spots were his tummy and his armpits. Marvin just about died at the cuteness! He placed his gloved hands back onto his ticklish neck, and wiggled his fingers excitedly.

In the midst of Marvin's little attack, his eyes came across the useful item from earlier: the pen. Feeling a wide and mischievous smirk form on his lips, Marvin grabbed the pen, clicked the ballpoint tip open, and started to draw on his neck with the pen! JJ let out an ear-piercing squeal! Marvin could easily tell JJ was enjoying this, and could happily announce that JJ was having the most ticklish time of his life! He continued drawing on his neck, creating little drawings on JJ's neck. JJ was kicking his legs, trying not to squirm too much.

Soon, Marvin decided to give JJ a break. He removed his hands, clicked the pen and placed it aside. JJ stayed laying on the ground, curled in a ball and rubbing his ticklish spots free of the leftover tingly feeling. While JJ was laying there, Marvin wrote a note into the notebook and placed it down. JJ eventually got up, grabbed the notebook and read the words written:

'Thanks for the little tickle session! P.S. You have an adorable smile!'

JJ could feel his cheeks heating up as he tried to hide his growing grin from whoever could be watching. Was he still there? He couldn't see the gloves anymore. So...perhaps he left?

And indeed, he did! Marvin had left JJ a couple minutes ago, and went to find Shawn: his last victim. Now, Marvin was a little nervous about this one. He wanted to leave Shawn till the very end for a specific reason, that he refused to admit. He wanted to think outside the box for Shawn's.

Marvin suspected he was in his room, painting, toy making, something of that sort. Marvin walked up to the open door and looked in: Turns out, he was right!

Shawn was holding a mixing tray, playing with different colors on a blank canvas.

'Man, that painting looked good!' the magician thought. Marvin looked around the room, and settled his eyes on Shawn's desk. On the desk were many cup holders: One for pencils and pens, one for scissors, sharpeners and erasers, one for glue sticks, and lastly: one for paintbrushes. There was a big variety of brushes: From tiny tipped brushes, to large wall paintbrushes. Marvin's lips formed into a mischievous smirk as an evil, ingenious idea came to his head.

Marvin snuck into the room. He walked past the display of toys and the reading chair, and towards the desk. He picked up the container of paintbrushes, and grabbed a small one and a big one from the cup. Just as he was placing the cup back, Shawn had turned around, and noticed that the brush container was moving by itself! Shawn dropped his paint-filled brush and gasped. This got Marvin's attention. Shoot...this wasn't part of the plan...

Marvin decided to quickly improvise. He put 3 of the brushes onto the desk, and carried the second biggest one with him. As he walked up to Shawn suspense-fully, he pointed the brush end at the painter, shaking it back and forth. Shawn jumped out of his chair, and made a run for it. he ran around his room a couple times, before running out the door. Marvin followed him as they entered the hallway.

A wild chase had begun. Shawn took twists and turns to try and slow the paintbrush down, but found that the paintbrush was getting closer and closer no matter what he did. As he tried to look for a place to hide, he realized there was a chair in front of him. Jumping up, he landed on the seat, and took a step onto the table! He took a couple steps on the table, before suddenly: His running came to a screeching halt! He tried to run. His legs were going, his arms were swaying back and forth, but his body wasn't moving! Before he could find out what was going on, his whole body was pulled backwards into an invisible grip!

Shawn yelled, but his mouth was silenced by...what felt like a hand? He tried to fight it, but struggled to keep it up. His fighting slowly turned to squirming as something started tickling him in the mysterious grip. Shawn muffled grunts turned to muffled laughter as his ribs were poked and clawed at. God...he probably looked really weird, laughing and squirming as he floated in the air. Thankfully no one was around to witness this.

As Shawn's muffled laughter continued, he watched as the mysterious creature carried him back to his room, and placed him onto his bed. Shawn attempted to escape again, but was stopped by a body...a body he couldn't see. The only thing he could see, was the hand imprints in his bed. Shawn started to feel around. Originally, he was trying to find an opening. But soon...that thought left his mind as a new thought replaced it: 'Who is this?'. Shawn felt everything he could reach: the arms, the head, the face, the hands, the shoulders, even the chest. It soon dawned on him that this was a human...and telling by the mask he could feel on the person's face, not just any human...

"...Wwwaaaaaaiiit...M-Marvin?" Shawn asked. Marvin's jaw dropped. HOW DID HE-...

Marvin started laughing nervously. "How did you know?" Marvin asked, using his voice for the first time.

"HEEEEYY! It IS you!" Shawn yelled excitedly.

"Yup...it's me..." Marvin said, embarrassed that Shawn found out who he was.

"Why, in the world, are you invisible?!" Shawn asked. Marvin pulled the bottle of invisible powder out of his pocket. Shawn rolled his eyes and let his head fall onto the bed with a smile on his lips. "Invisible powder? Really?" Shawn asked. Marvin pulled the cork off of the bottle, and sprinkled a bit onto his head. Suddenly, his body started appearing, bit by bit.

"...Surprise?" Marvin said awkwardly, before falling into a fit of laughter.

"You were the one controlling the brush?!" Shawn asked, laughing himself.

"Yes!" Marvin replied.

"You were the one who picked me up, and tickled me?!" Shawn asked with a smile on his face.

Marvin looked away, his face heating up and a cheeky grin growing onto his face. "...Maaaaaayybe..." Marvin replied.

Shawn narrowed his eyes and smirked in a mischievous, but curious manner. Suddenly, two hands gripped him. "Come here, ya little shit!" Shawn yelled, before spinning them both around. Now, Shawn was on the top, and Marvin was below him. "You know, you could've told me about your little crush." Shawn declared, grabbing his hands and holding them above his head. As Shawn thought about where to tickle first, he looked up to Marvin. "So tell me: Do you have a crush on me?" Shawn asked, before licking his lips eagerly. Marvin just about died upon watching that. Suddenly, a hand had found his side. Marvin looked down, and saw that it was Shawn's hand...uh oh..."I think someone needs some help confessing..." Shawn teased, clawing at Marvin's side. Marvin bursted into laughter as his body started squirming.

"Hahahahaha! Shaahahahawn! Thahahahat tihihihickles!" Marvin whined through his laughter.

Shawn gasped dramatically. "What?! This TiCkLeS? Perhaps I'd better fix that for you! What do you say, Marvy?" Shawn asked in a teasy voice. Marvin's laughter grew louder, as embarrassment over the nickname took a hold of him.

"DOHOhohon't cahahahall mehehe thahahahat!" Marvin yelled out of embarrassment.

"Hmm...I'll take that as a yes." Shawn decided, before giving Marvin a break. He walked over to his desk, and eyed up the single paintbrush laying on the desk. He knew Marvin was planning to use them on him. So...what would happen if Shawn reverse carded him, and used the paintbrushes on Marvin? Shawn smirked, grabbing the paintbrush from the desk and placing them into his pocket before walking back. Shawn grabbed the tiny brush out of his pocket and lifted up his shirt. Then, he dipped the paintbrush end into Marvin's belly button.

"aaAAAH! NAHAHAHAT THE BEHEHEHELLY BUHUHUTTON! HAHAHAHAHA!" Marvin yelled, bursting into laughter as he tried to squirm away from the paintbrush. Unfortunately, Shawn's brush would only follow the belly to wherever it squirmed to.

"There! That's a lot better." Shawn declared, swirling the paintbrush in Marvin's belly button.

"HAHAHAHAHA! SHAHAHAHAHAWN! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEASE!" Marvin pleaded. Shawn smirked at the sound. Was Marvin already begging? It certainly didn't take that long.

Shawn gave Marvin another break. He pulled the invisible powder bottle out of Marvin's pocket, pulled off the cork and sprinkled a bit onto his head.

"Wa-wait! Yohou dohohon't know how tohoho use ihihit!" Marvin argued, still giggly from being tickled a moment ago.

"Nah, I get it...See? Not so easy to see now, huh?" Shawn replied, showing Marvin his now invisible hands, holding the bottle and cork in his hands. Shawn placed the cork back into the bottle, gave it to Marvin, and started walking around the room.

"Uuuuhuhuh...Shaaahahawn?" Marvin warned, nervous giggles leaving his throat. Suddenly, a pair of hands had trapped Marvin into a tight hug from behind. From there, Marvin started laughing as fingers started attacking his ribs, tummy and sides. "NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHI CAAHAHAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!" Marvin shouted, as best he could through his uncontrollable laughter.

"Aww! Come on, really? You can't take a bit of tickling?" Shawn asked.

"IHIHIHIT'S TOHOHOHOHOO MUHUHUHUHUCH!" Marvin yelled back, squirming and attempting to swat at Shawn's hands.

"Oooooh! Okay! So, you like lighter tickles then?" Shawn asked playfully.

Marvin didn't even wait a second to answer. YEHEHEHEHES!" Marvin yelled frantically. Shawn nodded, before stopping his fingers. He didn't let him go, though. He remained holding onto him, and calmly felt the man's deep breaths. He leaned his chin onto Marvin's shoulder as he processed the feeling, slowly closing his eyes to stay focused.

Shawn and Marvin remained like this for a while. Marvin had placed his hands on top of Shawn's, and leaned his head against Shawn's as well. They were both comfortable in each other's arms...

That was, until Shawn blew a raspberry into Marvin's neck.

"HEHEHEHehehehey! I thohohought wehehe were hahahaving ahaha mohohohoment?!" Marvin asked.

"We are! I'm just adding some laughter into the moment!" Shawn replied, before giving Marvin another raspberry into his neck. Marvin bursted out laughing again. When the laughter slowly died down, Shawn would blow another raspberry.

"Shahahahahahawn! Ihihit- AAAHAHAHaha! Ihihit tihihihickles!" Marvin whined, his laughter growing as he was given another raspberry in between his sentence.

"Really? It tickles? Here! Let me fix that!" Shawn decided, before blowing multiple raspberries up and down Marvin's neck.

"NAAAHAHAHahahaha! AHAHahahaha! Yohohohou're soohohoho MEHEHEHEHEAN!" Marvin yelled.

"Mean?! You think I'm mean?! I'm offended, Marvin!" Shawn reacted. Shawn continued to raspberry his neck, but also resumed the clawing on Marvin's tummy and sides again. Marvin threw his head back and bursted out into even more laughter! The more he laughed, the more his laughter turned to cackles! Soon, Marvin's cackles took over his body as he squirmed frantically to get out of Shawn's grip.

"AHA! I've gotcha!" Someone said. Suddenly, a pair of hands had scooped up Shawn, and dragged him backwards a few steps. Marvin got out of Shawn's loosened grip, and took off running to the wall on the other side of the room, before turning himself around.

"HEY! LET ME- EEEEK! HEHEHEHEY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Shawn squealed, before falling into a fit of laughter. Marvin's eyes widened as he gazed at the person. It was Henrik! Oh gosh...He was trying to get revenge on the invisible person!

"Oooh! Does zhe invisible human have ticklish ribs, by any chance?" Henrik teased, before drilling his fingers into the bottom ribs and wiggling them. Shawn's laughter grew louder and higher as he kicked and pushed against the arms that trapped him.

"YEHEHEHEHESS! THEHEHEHEY'RE TOHOHOHOHOO TIHIHIHICKLIHIHISH!" Shawn yelled through his laughter. Henrik rolled his eyes and decided to raise his arms a little higher. He started digging his fingers into the middle ribs, making sure to dig into the sides of the ribs as well as the front.

"GAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! DON"T GO HIGHER! DOHOHOHON'T GOHOHO HIGHEHEHER!" Shawn begged.

"Oh, I'm going higher. Your laughter gets louder zhat vay!" Henrik replied, before dragging his fingers a little higher and digging into the ribs. Shawn's protests continued leaving his mouth, but soon, his squirming had started to die down. Marvin was SO thankful to not be in that situation.

"Now: Let's see who zhis invisible tickler is..." Henrik said, before pulling a bottle of invisible powder out of his pocket. Wait a second...

"Where did you get that?" Marvin asked slightly frantic.

"From your room. Either zhis is a ghost, or zhis is a fellow friend of ours." Henrik theorized, before sprinkling some invisible powder onto the invisible person's shaking head. The powder starting taking effect, as Shawn's body started reappearing in Henrik's arms. "Shawn?!" Henrik reacted, his jaw dropping at the shocking news.

"Yahahaha...whahahat dohoho yohou wahahahahant?" Shawn asked, confused as to what was going on.

"I vant to know why you vere tickling people in zhe house?" Henrik explained.

"Whahahat ahare yohohou tahahahalking abohohohout?" Shawn asked.

Henrik narrowed his eyes, as bits of frustration started to spark inside of him. Henrik decided to dig his hands into Shawn's armpits. "Now's not a good time to start denying. Spit zhe truth out!" Henrik ordered, still tickling him.

Shawn squeezed his armpits shut as he squirmed back and forth. "I AHAHAHAM TEHEHEHELLING THEHEHE TRUHUHUHUHUTH!" Shawn shouted.

"Oh, I doubt that!" Henrik replied, continuing his ticklish revenge on the 'invisible tickler'.

"Actually...he's not lying. Shawn wasn't the one who tickled everyone..." Marvin explained.

"Vait...really? Zhen, vhy vas Shawn invisible?" Henrik asked.

Shawn breathed in as much as he could, but also attempted to speak. "Because *huff* I...was *huff* getting...revenge...*huff* on Marvin. *huff* " Shawn said through puffs of air.

Henrik narrowed his eyes, and looked at Marvin. Marvin was scratching the back of his head, with a wobbly smile on his face. "Yyyyyup...Iiiit was meee..." Marvin confessed awkwardly. Henrik's revenge focused switched, dropping Shawn and running up to Marvin to cover him in vengeful tickles.

"Wait! Hold on- Henrik! We can talk about this, can't we?" Marvin attempted.

"Oh yes, ve CAN talk! Let's talk TICKLES!" Henrik said, before trapping Marvin in his arms and squeezing at his tummy.

"WAAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHENRIHIHIHIK!" Marvin yelled, bursting out into hysterical laughter. Henrik's fingers proceeded to dance all over Marvin's tummy, and he soon dipped his index finger into Marvin's sunken belly button.

Marvin exploded with laughter! "PLEHEHEHEHEASE! MEHEHERCY! MEHEHEHEHERCYY!" Marvin pleaded.

Henrik let his lips form into a smirk, before bringing his lips to Marvin's ear. "No amounts of mercy vill be given to you for a vhile. So yust do me a favor: Laugh it aaaaaalll out." Henrik whispered into his ear, before launching the ultimate tickle attack on the magician.

And indeed, Marvin laughed. And laughed, and cackled...and snorted, and let out all his other laughs as well! It was about time that Marvin gets that ultimate wrecking they've all been waiting for. In the end, Henrik took pity on him, and let him go. Then, all was well when Henrik gave him a glass of water.

[artificialqueens]

at dusk beneath a diabetic moon (trixya) 1/4 - beanierose

AN: i am enormously grateful as always to mattepinkallshades, joanneelizabeth and connyhascontrol for being so supportive and encouraging, and letting me talk their ears off about this iteration of our girls. i feel very blessed to have you. and stutter, i will never be able to thank you enough. for cheering me on, for making me a playlist, for beta reading, for being such a bright spot of joy in my life. thank you, thank you, thank you.

(read on ao3) | (find me at katiehoughton)

a buzzfeed unsolved/x files au. katya hunts cryptids. trixie doesn’t believe in them, but she believes in katya. | 5,145 words

Katya feels at her absolute sexiest and most gay sitting in the Wrangler with her elbow propped against the window frame, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Trixie. She will get off work at the salon in just a few minutes. Katya has her own duffel and Trixie’s pink hard-shell suitcase in the trunk, and a stack of cassettes for Trixie to choose from. It’s the sacrifice she has to make in order to enjoy the aesthetic of the vintage Jeep, that she can’t annoy Trixie with endless playlists of 90s Russian pop on Spotify. They make do, and she doesn’t mind letting Trixie choose what they listen to.

While she’s waiting, Katya replies to a few tweets asking for a hint about her next investigation. People are still sending her memes from the last time, grainy, crazy-looking ones, the ones Trixie tells her are called deep fried. She doesn’t super understand them, not always, but she listens when Trixie tells her how important it is to engage. How that will help to grow her audience.

Trixie is kind of bossy, and Katya likes it a lot. She’s her best friend, since college, and when Trixie graduated and Katya was two years out of school and still just working in the costume store, she didn’t hesitate to follow Trixie out west. All of this was Katya’s idea, but they wouldn’t be where they are without Trixie pushing, Trixie organising, Trixie taking moody, verdant photographs of the back of Katya’s head for Instagram.

Katya keeps her replies as cryptic as she possibly can, and when people start tweeting at Trixie as well to ask her for details, she locks her phone again and puts it away. She drums her fingers against the outside of the car and watches people walking by, some of them looking at her. A man walking a dog goes right past the Jeep, only a couple inches away from her, and Katya almost topples headfirst out of the rolled down window to get to scratch the puppy’s snout. After he’s gone, Katya lifts her hand to her nose and breathes in the dog-smell of her fingers, lives there in that secret shame for a little while.

All of the girls come out of the salon at the same time at the end of each day, and Katya likes so much to watch them. Trixie is a head taller than everybody else and there are cute little wisps of hair escaping her ponytail to frame her round, lovely face. She’s laughing with one of her colleagues, her mouth open so wide that Katya can see all of her back teeth even from the other side of the street. When Trixie turns around and sees the car she gives Katya a small wave and comes across the street with a little bounce in her step, her ponytail swishing behind her. Katya picks up the Del Taco bag from the seat so that Trixie can sit down, and hands it to her once she has her seatbelt fastened.

“Oh, my god. I literally love you. Thank you. Hi.” Trixie is always starving when she gets off work and she begins rummaging through the bag right away.

Katya starts the engine and the car rumbles to life beneath them. “Hello, hi, hello, how are you, how was your day?”

“It was just okay. That WASP woman came in again, you remember from last month?” Katya hums a small noise of confirmation. “She won’t let anybody else wash her hair. I had to do it, even though I told her that I’m a senior fuckin’ stylist.” Trixie stuffs a handful of fries in her mouth and chews politely, swallows them down before she finishes talking. “I’m supposed to supervise and delegate.”

“Uh-huh,” Katya says. “Trixie, honey, you gotta stop trying to convince people that you’re a top.”

Trixie shrieks and strains against her seatbelt like she wants to lunge across the centre console and finally throttle Katya. Her mascara is coming off in little flakes underneath her eyes, and the pink tip of her nose is showing through her foundation. She’s tired, Katya knows, and she’d love to go home and sink into a warm bath, her skin made slippery and soft by all of the special products she puts into the water. Instead she’s here, in Katya’s beat-up old car, already rummaging through the shoebox of cassettes in the passenger footwell.

She chooses Kate Bush, and she has another couple of tapes picked out for when this one finishes that she’s keeping tucked underneath her thigh like she thinks Katya might take them from her. Trixie fishes around in the glove compartment for a pencil and sticks it through the sprocket to wind the tape back to the start, the tip of her tongue just poking out because she’s concentrating so hard.

After she’s done and the staticky voices of Dan Brandenstein and NASA fill the car, Trixie offers Katya one of her crinkle cut fries. Katya munches on it cheerfully while she checks her mirrors and pulls out of their parking spot. Trixie is eating her veggie burrito with one hand and taking the scrunchie out of her hair with the other.

Katya hasn’t yet grown tired of Trixie’s whole post-work routine. After she’s done eating, Trixie wriggles out of her black blouse and slacks in the passenger seat. She had left a change of clothes for herself neatly folded on top of her suitcase, and Katya had let herself in to Trixie’s apartment with her spare key earlier today to collect everything. She saw a pepto-bismol Post-it tacked to the door of the refrigerator to remind Trixie’s roommate, Kim, that she needs to give the chinchilla food and fresh water every day that Trixie is away. Katya likes Trixie’s writing, how she dots the i in Kim’s name with a little heart. Her own is scrawling and messy as chicken scratch.

It isn’t a graceful production for Trixie to get dressed again, and Katya focuses very hard on the road ahead so Trixie doesn’t get all embarrassed and grumpy. She doesn’t put her boots on after she’s dressed, instead propping her feet up on the dash in their wool socks. She pushes her toes against the glass of the windshield until they crack and she moans loudly. Katya is so grateful that Trixie comes with her at all for these trips, and especially after ten hours on her feet.

After some time spent massaging her arches and groaning, Trixie takes her iPad out of her backpack and starts scrolling around in their shared Google document. They’ve been researching and collecting information. Katya has been reading everything she can get her hands on and making notes for Trixie, highlighting the parts that she thinks are especially interesting.

“You know,” Trixie says, and taps two fingers against her chin. “This might be the first time that I kinda believe in the thing that we’re looking for.”

Katya turns her head for just a moment to glance at Trixie. The sun is setting on Katya’s left, and she likes the idea of Trixie looking back at her and seeing the sky peach-pink and luminous behind her. “You do?”

“Yeah! Bigfoot is meat and bone, Katya.”

She sounds so emphatic that Katya laughs out loud, a small sharp thing that reverberates around the inside of the car for long enough that she almost winds down the window again to let it back out. That would be less than wise; it’s raining. And it’s begun to get dark. Katya doesn’t like driving very much, likes it even less in these conditions. When it’s sunny and dry and warm, she will hold the wheel down at six in just one hand and rest the other on the window frame or sometimes along the back of Trixie’s seat. Tonight she has a firm grip with both hands and she’s focusing so hard on the road she keeps catching herself leaning forward.

“I know this,” Katya says. “I didn’t think that you did. I was super ready to have to persuade you with all my extensive and incredibly scientific and — Trixie, and — one hundred percent factual research.”

Trixie has elongated in the seat as they’ve been driving. She’s reclined it way back and she still has her feet propped up on the dash. The blood is definitely not reaching them correctly, and when she gets out of the car later she’s going to whine and hop around like a little sparrow until her circulation comes back. She has the iPad resting against the slope of her thighs and she scrolls back up to the top of the document again.

“Like how the earliest recorded sightings are from the fifteenth century? And how lots of cultures have different names for the same idea? Hmm? Those facts?”

“Those are facts!” Katya starts, and then sees Trixie right at the edge of her vision, barely suppressing a smirk. Her cheeks have hollowed with the effort and her eyes are wide. “Wow, I hate you so much.”

Trixie reads a little more of their research out loud, like Katya wasn’t the one who compiled all of it. Like she hasn’t already drafted her tweets for later with the most important details. She hardly minds; she likes the way Trixie’s voice sounds. She’s turned the volume down on the cassette player a bit, so that she can tell Katya about how there have been sightings in almost every state, how that lends credence to the idea that Bigfoot is a species, rather than a singular creature.

“Well yeah, honey. You look in the mirror lately?”

Trixie screams and drums her heels against the dashboard, squirming around in her seat. Katya’s laughing too, and she relaxes her grip on the steering wheel a bit. Just having Trixie next to her in the car always makes her feel safer, which doesn’t make any sense at all because she has on more than one occasion lunged across the centre console and put her hands around Katya’s throat while they’ve been driving.

“That’s so mean. You’re so mean. I can’t believe I’m friends with you.” She’s taken her sunglasses off now that it’s gotten darker, and she folds the legs in neatly and puts them away in their pink case, stows it in the glove compartment.

Katya grins. “Well, I am a cryptid hunter. I’m one of the few people that believe you exist. So you don’t really have another option.”

“Okay, I got it, thanks so much,” Trixie says.

She gets into a bit of a snit and draws her legs up onto her seat, folds them beneath herself instead. There’s only twenty more minutes or so until they get to where they’re going, so Katya leaves her to work through it by herself in furious silence. It’s unkind to provoke her after a long work day. Katya should have known better; she does know better.

“Hey,” she says, after a handful of minutes in which she has to be very careful not to turn her head towards Trixie. “You’re very pretty.”

“I know.” It comes out sharp, but then her face softens into a smile. She uncrosses her arms and stretches them up above her head, as high as the roof of the Wrangler will let her.

They’re driving along the main street through the town now. Even in the dark and the rain it’s pretty cute, the street lined with trees and low, single-storey buildings. Behind them, the mountains sweep upward so steeply that it makes Katya dizzy when she leans forward towards the windshield to try and see the top.

“This place is kinda charming. If you’re into like, mildew and cheap beer,” Trixie says.

Katya swings a right into the parking lot of the motel and cuts the engine. “You know those are my two main interests. You think we’ll have time to go apartment hunting while we’re here?”

“Since when do you want to live like a person?” Trixie lifts both eyebrows. She always looks so pleased with herself whenever she gets a chance to tease Katya, and her mouth is turned up at the corners so the dimple in her left cheek is more pronounced. “We’ll get you a nice tarp and an extra pair of wool socks.”

“Oh wow, two pairs? A life of true decadence.”

Trixie doesn’t respond; she’s begun rummaging in her footwell, collecting all of her belongings. It usually takes less than five minutes of her being in Katya’s car before her stuff is scattered everywhere, but she is always courteous, always careful to take everything with her when she gets out. While she’s occupied, Katya jumps down without using the step and rounds the front of the Jeep to open Trixie’s door for her and offer her a hand. She doesn’t need it — she’s taller than Katya is — but she never refuses.

“We can’t stay someplace nice?” Trixie says, looking over the top of Katya’s head. The red neon Vacancy sign is making her face look warm and pink and sweet. “Just one time?”

“You wanna pay?” Katya says back.

Trixie squawks in distaste and Katya leaves her there, leaning against the side of the Wrangler and shifting her weight in agitation while the blood comes back into her feet. She gets their luggage out of the trunk and takes everything inside, Trixie trailing a few paces behind with just her little pink backpack.

Katya is the kind of person who says thank you to Siri whenever she asks a question, and Trixie is the kind of person who giggles at her every time for doing it. Because of this, Katya is always the one to speak with the person at the front desk and smile politely and collect their room keys, while Trixie busies herself a few feet away. She thumbs through the racks of leaflets advertising things to do in the surrounding area. Almost all of it is Bigfoot-adjacent, and Trixie certainly won’t find anything interesting enough to make her actually pick one out.

The moment they get into their room, Trixie unzips her suitcase and heads straight for the bathroom with a thing of Clorox wipes. She does this every time, and Katya can hear her singing cheerfully to herself while she scrubs the sink or whatever, so she leaves her to it. It gives her a minute to stretch out after the drive. Katya sits down right on the floor, even though it will make Trixie click her tongue in disgust, and moves easily through a few simple poses.

It feels good; she likes the way that it kind of burns when she pushes her hip flexors as far as she can. Her hair is spilling down all over her face and getting into her eyes, and she has a red scrunchie around her wrist but she doesn’t want to shift out of downward-facing dog to tie it up. After a couple minutes her legs start tingling and she brings them down and sits up, gathers as much of her hair up as she can. It only skims the top of her shoulders and it always wants to fall down and stick in sweaty tendrils to her cheeks and neck.

“Get off the floor,” Trixie says when she comes out of the bathroom. “You’re gonna get hepatitis.”

Katya lifts her head from her plow pose to look at Trixie. “I think that would be very sexy of me. Will you nurse me, Trixie? Will you tenderly pat my forehead with a cool facecloth?”

“I’ll smother you with a pillow.”

Sweat is beginning to prickle between Katya’s shoulder blades and make her back feel all itchy and unpleasant. She flops down flat onto the floor and Trixie steps carefully over her and sits herself primly on the end of one of the twin beds. She has a way of always, immediately, making the places they stay feel more like home. It’s not like she brings a bunch of scented candles, although Katya doesn’t doubt that she would if she thought she could get away with it. Just her presence in a space is enough to make it feel warmer and cosier and more pink.

Everything in Trixie’s suitcase is organised carefully into packing cubes, and when Katya opens her duffel and things start falling out onto the ground Trixie sighs loudly. Katya rummages around until she finds her dopp kit and she holds it aloft, victorious.

“I’m gonna shower. I am feeling extremely gross from the drive.”

“You’re extremely gross from who you are as a person.” Trixie has taken her boots off and wriggled up the bed so that she’s leaning against the headboard now. Her hair is a bit matted at the back from their long drive, and her makeup is smudged and wearing away. “I’m gonna call and check in with Orville.”

Katya’s knees both crack loudly when she straightens up and she winces. “Cool. Say hello to our son from me.”

“He’s not your son, Cruella,” Trixie fires back at her before Katya closes the bathroom door.

The spray from the showerhead is lacklustre, and Trixie is definitely going to be unhappy about that when she washes her hair tomorrow. It makes Katya laugh just thinking about it and some of the water gets into her mouth.

Freshly dressed, she comes out of the bathroom to see Trixie laying on her stomach on her bed, grinning at the screen of her phone. She’s on FaceTime, and Kim has propped her own phone up against the chinchilla’s cage so that Trixie can watch Orville eat. Katya likes that Trixie doesn’t stop her soft voice or her goofy smile when she comes into the room. She leans down over Trixie to put her face in the frame as well. When Trixie first announced one day that she was going to get a chinchilla and dragged Katya to the pet store to help carry everything, she hadn’t really understood the appeal. She gets it now. Orville sits on his hind legs and holds a grass pellet in his front paws to nibble at delicately, and Katya and Trixie watch him eat.

Katya had been with Trixie the day she got Orville from the rescue center. She’d been the one to drive back to Trixie’s apartment, and she’s pretty sure that was the closest she’ll ever come in her life to the feeling of driving home from the hospital with a newborn in the car seat. Trixie had cradled the carrier in both arms and sung softly to the chinchilla, so that he could get used to her voice. Now he’s inquisitive and goofy, and he likes to ride around on Katya’s shoulder whenever she’s over at Trixie’s place.

After a little while, Kim comes back into frame and tells them she has to hang up now but that she’ll check in later, before she goes to bed. “You’re a really good dad,” Katya says, and then darts rapidly off the bed and out of range so that Trixie can’t smack her.

She sits up and gathers all of her hair up off her neck in both hands, rolls her head on her shoulders. “You’re his dad. I’m a MILF. Can we get snacks?”

“Really?” Katya sits at the end of her own bed to start putting her Docs back on. “Watching him eat those nasty-ass dried-up pellets made you hungry, Trix?”

“No, being in a confined space with you for multiple hours made me hungry. Come on, there’s a gas station down the street.”

Katya trots obediently along behind Trixie on their way to the gas station. She looks like a confection, like something made of fondant or marzipan. She’s totally out of place in a town like this. It’s still raining, and it’s hovering right around forty degrees. Trixie’s wearing a white down jacket and she’s got her hands shoved inside the pockets and her chin tucked into the neck of the coat. When she put it on Katya told her she looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and she stuck her tongue out.

“Trixie, you know, you really shouldn’t dress like a snack when we’re out looking for enormous carnivorous beasts.” Katya quickens her pace to catch up to Trixie and hooks her arm through hers.

Trixie scoffs. “He’s not carnivorous, is he? Has there been one single confirmed report of a Bigfoot attacking a person? Ever?”

“Well no, but-”

“Mhmm.” Trixie stops them walking in front of the door to the gas station and Katya lets go of her arm so she can open it and hold it for Trixie.

Inside, several people turn to look at them. Trixie reaches blindly behind herself and circles her wrist until Katya takes her hand and allows herself to be led over to the snack aisle. She likes how every decision Trixie makes is properly considered, how she bends at the waist to assess their options before she picks anything out. She passes things to Katya one at a time for her to hold, until she’s satisfied. She started with the biggest thing of Skittles the store carries, which Katya is cradling against her stomach while she waits. Katya follows Trixie over to the registers and dumps everything out on the counter; a Red Bull can starts rolling and Trixie catches it as it drops off the edge and sets it down securely again.

“You girls in town for the squatch?” the older man at the register asks as he starts ringing them up. His gaze lingers on Trixie for a little while. She unzipped her jacket because it’s warm in the store, and underneath she’s wearing a pink roll neck sweater. She doesn’t much look like a typical amateur cryptozoologist.

It makes her let out a small disgruntled noise and she wanders away a bit. Katya bounces on her toes a couple times and clasps her hands together. “We sure are! You got any insider information?”

“Just don’t getcha selves lost in the forest,” he sighs. “Bring plenty’a supplies, water, nineteen forty-seven, and cell phones don’t work so you need’a use short-wave radio.”

Katya blinks at him a couple times and then says Oh! and rummages in the back pocket of her pants for her wallet. It was a gift from Trixie a few years back and the leather has been made soft and buttery with use. Inside, there’s a Polaroid of the two of them. They’re at the beach in it, Trixie in a vintage one piece and an enormous straw sunhat. Katya’s wearing a bikini with a shark print and she’s tucked beneath the brim of Trixie’s hat, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It sends a little sting of pleasure through her each time she sees it; Trixie had gifted the wallet to her with the photograph already inside.

“Here you go,” she says cheerfully, and hands the guy her card to swipe. “We’ve got radios and rations, don’t worry. We’ve put some thought into this. I guess you guys must have folks getting themselves stuck and needing rescued all the time, huh?”

The guy makes a gruff noise and passes her the receipt to sign. She can feel Trixie’s eyes on her, feel how she’s itching to get out of here. Trixie uses all of her reserves of small talk for her job and generally doesn’t enjoy engaging with people outside of work. Katya is honoured that Trixie feels comfortable enough with her to be grouchy and quiet, that it doesn’t drain her energy when they spend time together.

“You ever see any signs yourself?” Katya asks the clerk as he’s packing up their stuff. He passes the paper bag over to her and she holds it against her chest in both arms and waits for an answer.

The guy gestures behind himself to a few blurry photographs tacked up on a corkboard with push pins in different colours. “You hear about that hoax that was uncovered over in Bluff Creek?” He says it like that wasn’t almost twenty years ago, and Katya nods enthusiastically.

“I did!” She listens as he tells her to check out the museum in town, and that they should be careful not to find themselves in the forest after dark. He’s growing more and more animated as Katya lets him ramble, and she has to shift the weight of the grocery bag to her other arm.

Trixie has circumnavigated the store while she’s waited for Katya to get done talking to the guy, and she comes back to touch her fingers to Katya’s bent elbow and say her name very quietly and urgently. When they first met, Katya repeated Trixie’s name back to her and cracked it in half over her knee like a glow stick, and Trixie added an extra syllable to hers. Kah-tee-yuh. She likes the way that it sounds, especially when Trixie is getting annoyed or whiny.

“Okay, just a minute,” she says back calmly, as if she were trying to placate a child.

Katya thanks the guy at the register again and gestures with her head for Trixie to lead the way out of the store. She’s getting kind of stompy, so Katya trails a couple of steps behind on the way back to the motel. Trixie’s hands are balled into fists at her sides, but she’ll be okay once she eats a few Oreos and changes into her pajamas.

In their room, Katya unpacks the grocery bag and lays everything out on the dresser while Trixie changes in the bathroom. She likes pottering around and listening to the water running and the quiet hum of Trixie’s toothbrush, likes how Trixie’s face is bright and gleaming with lotion when she comes out.

“Par-tay,” Katya says, and shakes the bag of Skittles in Trixie’s direction.

She wrinkles her nose and collects a couple things to take with her when she gets beneath the sheets. Hers is the bed furthest away from the door, like always, and she props herself up against the headboard. Great clouds of freshly brushed-out curls cascade over her shoulders. Her hair is very soft; Katya knows this from the handful of times Trixie has gotten frustrated trying to do her own french braids and had Katya do them for her instead. Katya thinks she looks sort of like an earthworm, pink and shiny and moist, but knows better than to ever say that out loud.

“Hey, you know, that’s very Bigfoot of you,” she says as she comes over to sit on her own bed across from Trixie’s.

Trixie has arranged the various packages of junk food neatly across the sheets, in order of size from smallest to largest. She does the same thing with gifts, Katya remembers from her birthdays and that one Christmas neither of them could afford to go home and they spent the day on Trixie’s couch watching movies and eating until they were too bloated and uncomfortable to move.

“What is?”

“Arranging stuff all orderly like that.” Katya isn’t beneath the sheets yet, she’ll go out for a last cigarette, but she does reach down to unlace her boots. “You want me to go find you some rocks to stack?”

“I want you to never talk to me again,” Trixie says sweetly, and she rips open her Oreos and gets right to work twisting the cookies in opposite directions to separate the sandwich.

It doesn’t seem like the best idea to eat a whole bunch of sugar right before bed. Katya wants them to be up early to make the most of the daylight and she knows Trixie’s going to grumble, even though she’ll get at least an extra hour of sleep. Katya likes getting to wake Trixie with the wet ends of her hair dripping and her body pleasantly sore from a run, likes watching her come all grumpy and confused into the day. She is not about to tell Trixie to take it easy with the snacks, especially when she looks so cute munching on her cookies.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” Katya says, and Trixie makes a noncommittal noise.

She gathers her lighter and the pack of Camels from the pocket of her jacket and heads out the door of their room. They have a little patio area in the front with two Adirondack chairs and a small table and she settles herself down to light a cigarette. If she turns her head she can look in their window through the gap in the voile panels and see Trixie, scrolling through her phone and still eating.

They’re not far enough away from civilisation that she can see all of the stars, but there are way more than in the city. It’s so beautiful and so still, the rain coming down much lighter now. Katya likes the noises of the frogs very much. She would like to stay out here in her chair and listen to them until time stands still, and then maybe a little longer after that.

Her hair got damp again when they were walking back to the motel and she takes it down from the scrunchie so it can dry off a bit. It’s not even close enough to being warm enough for her to sit out like this, and she regrets not wearing a jacket. For a little while Katya inspects her own arm, fascinated by the way all of the blonde hairs are standing on end and how her skin feels like it’s on too tight.

After a while the light goes out in the room behind her. Katya isn’t usually the last one awake, but she really likes the idea of tiptoeing around and doing her best not to wake Trixie, maybe sneaking glances over at her. She’s on her second cigarette, and she’s trying so so hard, but she’s barely smoked at all today and she’s so content in the moment that she doesn’t want to go inside just yet. They’re so lucky to do this. She is so lucky, to have a best friend who will come along with her on these trips and take pictures and listen to her rambling and be the person she gets to turn to and say did you see that?

Their room faces away from the main street and she can almost make out the shape of the mountains. They seem much closer than she knows they really are, a huge hulking mass of deeper, more solid darkness. A little shiver goes through her thinking about how Bigfoot could be up there right now, maybe peering down, watching the lit end of her cigarette weave around in the dark like a firefly.