#COMIN BACK FULL SWING TOMORROW!!!!

[death---dealer]

Not to sound like a slut but imagine Noa singing to you before mating for the first time like maybe it’s an Eagle Clan tradition hell imagine your first time mating with any of them I have thoughts but who really wants them lmao

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 10

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Summary: With your ex-husband in town, this is sure to be interesting.

WC: ~2.4k

I’m in Philly this weekend. We should talk.

The good mood that you were in from waking up in your girlfriend’s arms sours at that text, and she notices.

“Hey,” she whispers as she kisses your temple, also rolling out of bed. “You��re upset.”

“I’m not,” you shrug. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh. “I should probably go check on El. You comin’?”

The redhead nods and follows you into Ellie’s room, where she’s playing on the floor with a few of her dolls.

“Momma! Mel!” she grins up at the two of you. Immediately, she’s launching herself at you, and if either her or Melissa notice the way that you cling to your daughter only a bit desperately they don’t say anything. You lift your little girl onto your hip and hold her close, smoothing down her wild locks and kissing her temple. Melissa follows suit, and she grins when Ellie kisses her cheek back.

“Breakfast?” your daughter looks to your girlfriend with those sweet eyes of hers.

“Obviously,” Melissa chuckles. “And what does the princess want?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes!” Ellie cheers. When you give her a look, she quickly adds on a, “Pretty please!”

The three of you head for the kitchen, and while your daughter and your girlfriend mix the batter together and start heating up the griddle, you stare at your phone contemplating what you should do.

“Penny for your thoughts, hun?” Melissa breaks your trance as she sets a plate full of the breakfast food in front of you. Ellie comes bouncing over with the butter and syrup a few short moments later.

“We can talk later,” you tell her softly. “When we take El to the park.”

Once you finally get Ellie ready for the park and get yourself ready, you head out. Melissa drives the two of you there, and as soon as she can, Ellie is running for the swings. You and your girlfriend walk hand in hand to find a park bench to sit on and keep an eye on your little girl.

“So, what has my girl down?” the redhead asks you once she’s sure your daughter can’t hear her.

“Jared texted me. Said he’s in Philly, and we should talk.”

Her face flickers through a few different emotions before settling on a neutral face. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly? Like I never want to see him again, but I also have El to think about. He is still her father.”

“And he gave up his parental rights,” she reminds you. “Willingly, and without hesitation.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh as you set your head on her shoulder. “But if he wants to reach out in order to stay in Ellie’s life, I cannot deprive my child of her father.”

“You can,” she tells you.

“But it wouldn’t be right… especially because El… she loved her Daddy before everything got messy.”

“It’s up to you, hun,” your girlfriend says. “But I would be cautious.”

“I know, I know,” you mutter.

Ellie has a blast at the park like she always does, but after about an hour she’s running back to you with rosy cheeks and telling you she’s sleepy. Melissa carries her back to the car, and in the short ten minute drive back to the apartment complex, she falls asleep in her carseat clutching one of the stuffed animals Melissa keeps in her car now. You lift her out of her carseat and hold her tightly as you make your way up to your apartment. You settle on the couch with her, still in your arms while your girlfriend heads for the kitchen.

“Are you good if I make eggplant parm?” she calls softly.

“That sounds great,” you sigh out.

As she cooks dinner, humming quietly to herself, you continue to torture yourself with the pros and cons of texting Jared back. Ultimately, you tell him that if he’s serious, you can meet him for coffee tomorrow- preferably around the time when Melissa will be going to mass.

His response is almost an immediate one. So the two of you set a time and a place, and you know that come tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to make an excuse to your girlfriend as to why you can’t join her for the church service tomorrow.

Ellie stays asleep up until Melissa calls in that dinner is ready. She clings to the redhead through dinner, claiming that she’s warmer than you are. Despite Melissa trying to get her to stay with you (she knows you need Ellie to keep you grounded right now), your daughter insists on staying in her lap.

Your routine through the end of the night goes on as usual, and when you and Melissa finally lay down for bed, you have an awful pit in your stomach as you prepare to lie to her.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you mumble with your head on her chest. “But I’m not feeling too great right now.”

“Oh?” Melissa looks at you. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just… cramps. Probably PMS.”

She’s immediately out of bed and grabbing some ibuprofen and the heating pad, and you feel even more guilty at your lie. Melissa is so willing to take care of you and love you through everything.

You’re lulled to sleep with the extra warmth provided by the heat on your abdomen as well as your girlfriend gently combing her fingers through your hair and her soft humming.

The next morning, you wake up and you wish that you were lying to Melissa when you said that your cramps were awful- they really are. But you also know that this is going to be the perfect way to get out of going to the long church service with her, and you know she’ll take Ellie with her to let you ‘rest’.

She does, and you stay in bed until they both head out. And then you run around like a maniac trying to make yourself look presentable to meet your ex-husband. 

You arrive at the coffee shop you agreed to meet at, and he’s already sitting with two cups in front of him. You drop into the seat across from his, and he pushes one of the cups in your direction.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, and it’s that damned charming smile that made you fall for him in the first place. 

You stare at him for a few minutes in a steely silence. Why did you come here? “What do you want?” is all you ask him as you take a sip of the coffee in hopes of it soothing your nerves. You cradle your abdomen in hopes that your cramps begin to subside soon.

“Damn,” he chuckles. “I come all the way out here to meet you, and that’s the greeting I get?”

“I didn’t ask you to. What do you want?” you ask him again.

He looks a bit stunned that this is the approach you’ve decided to take with him. He’s so used to you being meek and mild, warm and gentle. “I just wanted to catch up.”

“I’m doing just fine out here, with my daughter,” you say shortly.

His eyes go soft. “How is Ellie?”

“She’s fine.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” your ex sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

“You should be,” you laugh bitterly. “You broke apart our family, and for what? To go fuck someone newer and younger? Tighter?” you quote back one of his texts to Jen that you saw after you caught him in bed with her. 

“Y/N, I was an idiot,” he tells you. You nod with a smirk. “I came out here to tell you that I want us to get back together.”

“Not a chance in hell,” you snort.

“Then at least let me see Ellie,” he tries. “C’mon. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” you tell him. “You cheated on me, and then signed away your parental rights without hesitation. And I’m still waiting for all of your child support money. So, I see it that if I don’t have the money in my hand by the end of this meeting-”

“Where is Ellie?” he asks quietly. “I was hoping she would be with you.”

“With our neighbor,” you say. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You left her with your neighbor?” he asks you incredulously.

You nod. “I did. I trust Melissa- my girlfriend.”

He raises both of his eyebrows at that reveal. “Moved on so quick?”

“You moved on before you even took your ring off, so don’t give me any fucking shit, Jared,” you hiss out. “Babysitter fucker.”

“I didn’t realize you still swung that way. I thought I fucked the gay out of you,” he smirks.

“Oh, eat shit,” you stand from your place and throw your hot coffee in his face. “Don’t bother getting in touch unless it’s to fork over the child support. If I don’t have it by the end of the month, I will be getting a lawyer.”

You head out to leave the shop, and who do you run into on your way out the door but Melissa and Ellie. Your girlfriend gives you quite the questioning look, considering you were sick in bed an hour ago. 

“Momma!” your little girl shouts as she slams into your body to hug you.

You groan softly at the contact, but lift her into your arms and hold her tightly, praying she doesn’t see her father. Melissa kisses you at the same time that Ellie gasps, points, and shouts, “Daddy!”

You close your eyes and give a face of pure defeat. You were just caught.

“Ellie girl!” your ex-husband replies with the same amount of enthusiasm, and your daughter is wiggling her way out of your arms to run over to her father. He scoops her up into the biggest hug, despite the fact that he’s still covered in your beverage.

“You came here to meet Jared?” Melissa whispers as she eyes the man.

You nod sheepishly before attempting to make your way over to the two of them. You have to stop about halfway there, gasping in pain as your stomach twists in knots. Your girlfriend follows, an arm wrapped around you protectively.

“Daddy, you’re all wet!” Ellie giggles.

“You know Daddy,” he chuckles in the easy way that he used to with her. “Clumsy, clumsy.”

“Silly Daddy,” your little girl playfully rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

“How are you, little girl?”

Your daughter grins as she launches into her stories. “I love it here! I love school, and Momma and I go to the park all the time with Miss Mel like we are today!” she points to Melissa. “That’s Miss Mel, and I love her. She’s my favoritest person in the whole wide world!”

You have to bite back a snort when you see the hurt expression on his face, and you beam when you see your girlfriend’s proud look. You don’t even care that you aren’t your daughter’s favorite person right now because at least it isn’t him. 

“And Miss Ellie’s favorite person in the world brought her down here to pick up some coffee and doughnuts for being such a good little girl at church today,” Melissa cuts in. “Which I think we should do, what do you think El?”

The little girl absolutely beams as she remembers why they’re here, and she runs for the redhead. 

They head off towards the counter, and your eyes turn to stone again as you face your ex-husband. 

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but quit it. You’re not getting her back,” you hiss. You turn on your heel and make your way up to where your girlfriend and daughter are ordering.

“I already ordered your coffee,” Melissa tells you with a kiss to the temple. She readjusts Ellie so she can grab her wallet from her pocket, but before she can insert the card, Jared is there handing over some money.

“I got this one,” he says cooly. “For my little girl, and my wife.”

There’s a fire in Melissa’s eyes, and before she can get anything out, Ellie pipes up. “You and Momma aren’t married anymore!”

Your mouth, along with Melissa’s and Jared’s, form into shocked faces. Your little girl is right.

“But thanks for breakfast anyway,” you laugh in his face. “Bye.”

You hope that he’ll just leave in anger, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his eyes even softer and his voice even smoother. “Well, I was hoping that I could maybe tag along to the park to spend some time with my little girl who I’ve missed so much.”

Fuck. Now he’s using Ellie against you, and you know your daughter will beg you to let him come.

“I missed you too, Daddy,” your daughter whispers softly, but she keeps her hold on Melissa.

“Not today, sweetheart,” the redhead says quietly as she runs a hand through your daughter’s hair. “Your momma isn’t feeling super well, so today is going to be an easy day.”

You nod along.

“Maybe another day this week then,” he shrugs. He isn’t giving up. “I’m here all week for a work conference.” With that, he kisses Ellie’s head, kisses your own, and then heads out.

A tense silence washes over Melissa and you as you wait for your coffees to finish being prepared. Ellie just hums to herself softly as she lays her head down on the redhead’s shoulder and fiddles with the ends of your girlfriend’s hair.

Your names are called, you grab the coffees, and make your way out to her car- you silently thank God that you won’t have to take the Septa now.

No words are spoken between you and your girlfriend for the entirety of the drive home, and when you make your way to your apartment, she turns for her own door.

“You aren’t coming in?” you ask quietly, and you hate the way that your voice breaks.

“I need ten minutes,” she says scarily calmly. “To change and collect myself.”

Fuck. She’s mad. Deciding that it’s best to give her the ten minutes she’s requested, you unlock your own front door and take Ellie to the kitchen table to enjoy her breakfast.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @nothere1111 @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Eighteen - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-17 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Eighteen - Mother Clucker

As Tyler pulled into his aunt’s driveway, you noticed the sign saying Daisy Dream Acres and the little hut with a closed sign on the window. You smiled slightly, knowing someday you’d want something like that. You looked down the driveway to see a light blue farmhouse with a wrap-around porch, set with a swing and a big Saint Bernard perched on top of it. You looked to the right and saw the huge garden full of fruits and vegetables at peak harvest, to the left of the driveway you saw another light blue building with a sign saying ‘Mother-Cluckers.’

“That must be the chicken coop?” You asked, gesturing to the building. 

“Yeah, Auntie B loves sayings like that,” he chuckled, putting the truck in park behind her Ford F-150.

“You finally trade in that damn Ram 3500 for a real truck, Ty?” A voice called from the porch. You looked over and saw a woman with dark brown light curly hair, her gray roots showing her age. She had on yellow overalls and a dark blue shirt covered in small daisies. 

“No, ma’am!” He said proudly while getting out of the truck, “This is (Y/n)’s truck.” 

“Damn, and I was just starting to think you were comin’ around, boy,” she said, “Breakfast is almost ready and coffee is hot.” 

While you were getting out of the truck, you noticed this flash of brown and white, and then Tyler was on the ground. You walked around the back of the truck to see him being slobbered with kisses by his Saint Bernard, Cash. You smiled, but it made you miss your pups at home. 

“I missed you, too, bud,” Tyler laughed, scratching Cash’s back and hugging him tight while Cash whined with happiness. 

“I can’t wait to see my boys,” you said softly, kneeling next to him to greet the dog.

“Just think, it’ll be tomorrow,” Tyler said, sitting up and brushing the dirt off his shirt, “Maybe we’ll bring Cash with us so they all can play together.” 

“That’ll be good,” you said, “Hey buddy.” 

Cash came over and almost knocked you over, slobbering kisses all over your face, too. 

“Cash, c’mon man, I kiss that face,” he said, chuckling while standing up and holding his hand out for you.

“Like I don’t kiss yours,” you said, taking it and standing up. 

“I am pretty kissable,” he said while smirking, “Let’s get inside and wash up before Auntie B yells at us.” 

“On it,” you said, brushing your knees off while walking up the stairs to the front door. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. 

“Ladies first,” he said, smiling and giving your butt a light smack while walking inside. This was new, but you were in front of someone else so you had to play it cool, but made a mental note to ask him about it later tonight when you were alone. 

“I’m glad to see that you’re still a gentleman, Tyler,” his aunt said, “Your momma would be proud.” 

“Well, I had two amazing women to raise me and whip me into shape,” he said, pouring two cups of coffee. 

“Damn right you did,” she laughed, “So I’ll go out and take care of the horses if you want to do the chickens.” 

“We can do that,” you said, “I’m sure Tyler can show me the ropes, but I’m sure it’s no different than the chickens my parents have.” 

“They’re a handful and I’ve threatened to turn them into fried chicken,” she said while plating up hashbrowns, bacon, eggs, and toast. 

“My dad not only threatened but then held out on that,” you laughed, “Was pretty good chicken.” 

“When Tyler was younger a couple of the older chickens were chasing him around and pecking his rear,” she said, “Was pretty funny to watch from the porch.” 

“Yeah, it wasn’t very fun running away from said chickens with a basket full of eggs,” Tyler said, sitting next to you and putting his arm on the back of your chair. 

“You were, what, six?” She asked, placing plates in front of the both of you. 

“Somewhere around that,” he said, “Definitely wasn’t old enough to know I could just kick them and they’d leave me alone.” 

“I mean, you’re just pre-tenderizing the meat,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. This made both Auntie B and Tyler laugh. 

“I like this girl, Ty,” she said, “What took you so long to get her?” 

“Well,” he said, trailing off. 

“It was mainly my fault,” you said, interrupting him, “My past relationships left me pretty beaten up so if anyone tried I would usually brush them off or they’d give up trying.”

“Why do you say that they’d give up?” She asked, taking a bite of her toast. 

“Let’s just say my heart is basically in Fort Knox,” you laughed slightly, “It takes a while before I start to trust people, men especially.” 

“Good for you, know what you deserve,” she said, “It’s why I’ve been single after my first marriage fell apart.” 

“Well, he wasn’t much of a man, Auntie B,” Tyler chimed in. 

“Oh hush,” she said, waving him away. 

“I’ve never heard anyone who doesn’t have a job, work ethic, is an alcoholic, and occasionally beat his wife who would do anything for him, a man,” he said, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth. 

“Ty, obviously she doesn’t want to talk about it,” you said, smacking his arm.

“It’s okay, (Y/n),” she said, finishing up her eggs, “He’s just protective, just like his father.” 

“Can’t help it, it’s in my blood,” he said, finishing his toast. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” you said, drinking the last of your coffee. 

“You kids ready to get to work?” She said, taking the empty plates and putting them into the sink. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Tyler said, getting up and stretching, “Been a while since I’ve done chores.” 

“Been a lot longer for me,” you said, grabbing his ball cap and putting it on your head. You pulled your ponytail out the back and headed over to the door. 

“The baskets are on the porch, dear,” she said, “Don’t be scared to give them a nudge with your feet.” 

“Will do,” you said while cracking the door open, “Thank you for breakfast, Ms. Owens!” 

“Call me Auntie B, honey,” she said, giving you a smile and a wave as she headed out the back door to the horses. 

“And you were so worried she wouldn’t like you,” he whispered in your ear, putting his hands on your waist. 

“Can’t help I’m a likable person,” you said, as he grabbed the baskets and headed down the stairs with you right behind him. 

“More like lovable,” Tyler said, pulling you close and kissing your temple. 

“Somedays,” you said, opening the door to the chicken coop to see a couple dozen chickens. 

“You take one side, and I’ll take the other?” He asked, handing you a basket. 

“Are you making this a challenge, Owens?” You asked, smirking and gripping the basket. 

“What if I am?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Then you’re on,” you said, heading over to the first chicken box and grabbing the eggs left unmanned. 

“Are we doing how fast or how many?” He asked, going to his first box where there was nothing. 

“Why not both,” you said, grabbing another four eggs. 

“Because how many is just a chance of luck with having the good side,” he said, going to the box under it and moving a chicken out of the way to collect the one egg. 

“That sucks,” you said, laughing while already being down five boxes and having around two dozen eggs. 

“Ow!” Tyler shouted while pulling his hand back and putting his hand to his mouth, “Mother clucker!”

“Careful, we don’t want a repeat of when you were six,” you laughed, “But on the other hand I’d love to see that.” 

“It wouldn’t be as funny,” he said from behind his hand. 

“Yeah, it’d be ten times more funny since you’re a grown adult,” you said, looking over at him with a big smile to be met with an annoyed glare. 

“I can’t help that chickens don’t like me,” he said, trying the next box. 

“Chickens don’t like anyone, but they can sense fear,” you said, being close to the end of the row of boxes for your side. 

“Okay, maybe I have an irrational fear of chickens,” he said, trying to get more eggs from under a chicken. 

“Want me to help you?” You asked, trying to hold back a laugh while holding your basket of overflowing eggs, “I’m pretty sure I won.” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking down at his basket to see maybe a dozen eggs. 

Want more? Here's Chapter Nineteen!

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804 @smoothdogsgirl @xbox5angelx

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Four

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Chapter Four:

“You know you don’t have to come.” Said Elenora as she walked through the dark, along the concrete driveway next to Tim. The house in front of them was massive, white wooden siding and stone archways. It was in the nicer part of Lexington, the type of house that had more bathrooms than bedrooms. There were lamp posts near the entrance that lit the large white porch and entry way.

“And miss the chance to see what you’re like plastered? No way, Ma’am.” Tim replied with a laugh.

Elenora rolled her eyes as the two of them came to a stand at the doorway to the house. “I will not get plastered. Moving day is tomorrow, you know.” Reaching forward, Elenora pressed the doorbell and then casually smoothed out her simple knee length burgundy dress. It had no sleeved, but a high buttoned up collar. She had used a large and chunky brown leather belt with it, and her favorite cowboy boots. Tim had opted for a grey button down no tie, black jeans and his usual boots. The party was supposed to be dressy casual.

“Oh, I know. It was mighty nice of Art to volunteer us all. He even said the new guy is comin’ out to help. Still think you should have worn the hat. Who could have thought you could go from sexy school teacher to sexy cowgirl?”

“New guy?” Elenora began, as she ignored the rest of Tim’s comments. “You tellin’ me that you aren’t short man on the totem pole anymore?”

“Yeah, he starts the day after tomorrow, I guess. Said little else.”

The door to the house was flung open and arms enveloped Elenora. “NORA! YOU MADE IT!”

Stumbling back with the force, Elenora as well wrapped her arms around the girl, although it was more out of fear of falling than anything. She saw Tim’s arm shoot out in response and felt his light touch where his hand contacted the spot between her shoulder blades.

When the girl pulled away, she looked at Elenora and then at Tim. “Hey, I know you.”

“Tim, Mandy, Mandy, Tim.” Elenora introduced one to the other. “Mandy is the one that sent you that picture on my behalf, and Tim is the Deputy that arrested me.”

“Nora, didn’t know you had it in you.” Said Mandy, as she eyed Tim like he was a piece of meat. “Wait, I don’t know if I can let you in here...” Elenora and Tim had already discussed the fact that there would be underage drinking and, most likely, marijuana at the party.

Tim stuck a finger from each hand into a belt loop and cracked a smile. “I’m off the clock. Unless one of your guests decides to shoot someone, or has an outstanding warrant, you won’t have any problems with me.”

“Good, now come on, I wanna know all the details. Like if you guys hooked up before or after processing, cause this prude will never tell me anything about her sex life.” Mandy hooked her arm into Tim’s and directed him inside.

“Ma’am, I hate to disappoint but I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

Mandy craned her head back to Elenora, who was still standing at the doorway. “He called me Ma’am!” She then let out a giggle.

“Yeah, he likes to do that.” Smiled Elenora as she moved to follow Tim and Mandy.

When they entered, the party was already in full swing. There were people everywhere, mainly they were Education students, but there were many that Elenora did not recognize. There were even a few Professors and their spouses. Elenora and Tim were led into the kitchen where there were buckets filled with ice hosing bottles of beer and coolers. Elenora watched one person open a fridge, which looked to only contain more beer. There was mix and hard liquors on the counter, as well as red solo cups everywhere. She could hear people cheering somewhere else in the house. It was here that Mandy finally released Tim and told them to help themselves. Tim fished out a bottle of beer and held it out towards Elenora, who took it with a smile.

At some point in the night, Elenora was dragged away from Tim, although he had found someone that he knew, a man in the Lexington PD who had also served. He was married to one of the professors, so Elenora did not feel too bad leaving him behind while she did some shots.

“We’re done bitches!” One girl screamed, and the ring of girls, including Elenora, tossed back a shot of whiskey. Elenora slammed her glass down with a smile and looked at her friends, who were all as equally happy and drunk.

“That hot piece of man can’t take his eyes off of you, Nora.”

“He called me Ma’am when they came in. It was the cutest thing.” Mandy said with a hand to her heart.

Elenora looked over her shoulder to see Tim in the next room. He was leaning against a doorframe, taking a swig of his beer while the surrounding group conversed. His eyes, though, were hard set on her. It was a look that made her knees weak and her skin go warm. Elenora loved the way he looked at her. “He is a pretty great catch, isn’t he?”

With a confidence that could only be fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol she had drank, she smirked at Tim. Elenora eyed him and tried to convey every emotion she was feeling and Tim responded with a raised brow. “Someone hold my dress.” Turning and heading out to the deck that was off the kitchen, Elenora waited as her friends gathered around her before looking at the man holding the spout for the beer keg. “You ready?” She asked. He nodded with a smile and presented the keg to her.

“All yours, little lady. You ready?” With a nod, Elenora threw her hands on the handles and pushed off with her legs. Swinging herself over, she felt someone grab her legs to stabilize her, and she felt her dress fall in the wrong direction, before hastily being grabbed and brought back to cover her modesty. The man holding the spout held it to Elenora’s lips and opened it, and she began to drink. Her heartbeat pounded in her head as the seconds went by, and she was sure she could hear people were cheering her on, although it was hard to make out what they were saying.

When she couldn’t go any longer, she let her legs fall back down and the spout pulled away. Once she was upright, she brought the back of her hand to her lips and wiped away the beer that had dribbled on her. Then she turned around. The crowd of people cheered her on, probably more so because she did not immediately hurl like many before her. Elenora’s eyes though searched the crowd until she found Tim.

He was standing there, one arm folded over the other across his chest. There was a smile on his lips and his eyes narrowed as she stood in place, just watching him. She felt someone slap a hand on her shoulder in congratulations and one of her male classmates come up, hugged her, and lifted her into the air before spinning her around. When her feet were back on the ground, her eyes found Tim’s once again and he was looking at her now like she had something on her face.

Elenora looked at him quizzically, but her question was interrupted by Mandy bringing her yet another shot of whiskey. “So, does he have a brother? Please say he has a brother?”

“I’m not sure. We have avoided the topic of family pretty heavily.” Elenora downed the shot and watched as Tim approached the two of them.

“Well, if he does, I call dibs.”

“If he does what?” Asked Tim with a sly smile as he came to stand next to Elenora. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Oh, I was just wondering if there was a way to get me one of you.” Mandy said with a smile.

“Sorry to disappoint Ma’am, but there’s only one of me, and I’m kind of stuck on this one here.” Said Tim, before twisting his head to place a kiss on Elenora’s hair.

“Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.” Said Mandy before she turned and walked away.

Leaning his head down to Elenora’s ear, she could smell the beer on his breath. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I’d be good with that.” Elenora replied.

“Good, because I already called us a taxi.”

With a nod, Elenora and Tim walked through the house and out the front door to stand on the porch while they waited for the Taxi. Elenora watched as Tim fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt as he stared off out into the yard. “What you thinkin’ about there, solider?” Asked Elenora as she leaned herself against one of the porch beams, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Honestly? Just waitin’ for the ball to drop.” He stopped fidgeting then and took the few steps to stand in front of Elenora. Reaching out, Tim put his hands to her hips and pulled himself as close as he could. He tipped down his head to put his forehead against hers and brought his nose to touch her own. “You’re too good. Too perfect, and those things in my life don’t tend to stay that way. Keep expecting to see your arrest warrant come across my desk, or for you to tell me that while this was fun but your boyfriend is coming home tomorrow.”

“Ouch, hate to be one of your Ex’s.” Elenora put her hands to Tim’s forearms and smiled. “But Tim, neither of those things are gonna happen. What’s got you thinkin’ like this?”

“There’s something about you that makes me feel like I’ve known you my whole life and you got me thinkin’ in all sorts of ways I’ve never thought before.”

“Oh, and what would those be, Marshal?”

“Girl’s gotta’ have some secrets.”

“Okay, you can keep your secrets, but only if you take me to the range. I haven’t gotten my carry and conceal, and my daddy keeps buggin’ me. Threaten to come out here, and I’d really rather that not happen, as I like you with no bullet holes.”

“Is this the alcohol talking, or are you just tryin’ to get me hard? Talkin’ bout going to the shooting range. It’s like you’re made from my dreams.” Tim’s lips crashed against her own, his tongue swiping across her lips, in a request to deepen the kiss, and Elenora complied. Opening her mouth, she allowed Tim entry and soon her tongue was against his own and Elenora found her knees going weak, just as Tim finally pulled away. “Wait, do you even know how to fire a gun?” He pulled back slightly and stared down at her with a questioning gaze.

“You really think my Deputy Marshal of a father wouldn’t teach me how to shoot?”

Tim’s hands tightened on Elenora’s hips. “Hey, just wondering what I have to work with here.”

Elenora opened her mouth to respond, but a loud succession of car honks interrupted her. Both of them turned to see a taxi had pulled up along the driveway. “Come on, our carriage awaits.” Tim pulled away from Elenora but reached out to take her hand in his, and he walked away. When she did not move, though, the resistance made him stop and look back at her.

“I don’t need to worry bout you gettin’ scared and runnin’ do I?”

“We’re good Nell. I’ll let you know, though, if my feet start getting an itch.” Tim said with a smile.

“Good, cause I’m an excellent runner, and you, Tim Gutterson, are worth runnin’ for.”

“You know you’ve never told me your last name?”

“I’m not wearing my runnin’ shoes for that answer. So try to keep an even pace for me, okay?” Tim nodded his head in response and just stared at her with a smile. “It’s Crowder.” Elenora broke her eyes away from Tim as she felt his hand drop from her own and she looked down at the ground.

It was a split second later when she saw Tim’s feet in front of her and felt a finger curl around her chin, pulling up and forcing her to look at him. “Well, there’s a name that keeps coming across my desk, but you’re gonna have to do better than being a Crowder to scare me away.”

Chapter Five

[mtwiind]

@celestiialnotes asked:

" What's your game ? Do you think we're stupid? " Door closed shut in the office, a new promotion for the young shipwright offered him a place for the paperwork necessary to keep the place running as smoothly as it could. To shoulder some of the responsibilities that burdened his mentor or conflicted with his schedule. A look of clear suspicion, eyes narrowed & gaze hardened, full of distrust as he stands before the newly reinstated shipwright. Blood nearly boils at the mere sight of him. C'mon Paulie, after all this time, this still bothers you?

" Why are you here? " He asks again. The reasons told by him upon arrival were good enough for Iceberg, but not to him.( Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice... ) His hand grabs at Kaku's shirt, rough as he pulls him in close. Bared teeth as his voice falls low. " Cause it can't just be y'got a cute little change of heart. " "Y'got some fuckin' brass balls comin' back here after what you did. With those... people, " the words drenched in a level of venom never spoken before by Paulie, " who fucked over Iceberg. Over Galley-La. Over me. He might've been nice enough to welcome your ass back, but think again if you think I woulda agreed to this. Here I thought that I finally got over your stupid face. Andof course you come back & just- " There's a slight... tremble in his grip, unable to hold the balled up cloth in his fist for long before he gives Kaku a light shove away from him. Paulie grunts, stuffing his hand deep into the pants pocket of his suit. Clenched teeth hold back the slew of thought angrily pushing against it. Finally though, he exhales the built up frustration & exasperation, letting shoulders droop just a little. Eyes fall downcast to the floor in front of Kaku's feet. " Show up tomorrow at 5 am. A second late & that second chance will be pulled out from under you before you can even spew out some half-assed excuse to anyone. " Eyes return to Kaku for a brief moment. Stepping back, Paulie turns away from Kaku, pulling open the door ( nearly pulling it off of its hinges when he swings it open, though not enough to let it hit the wall, best not to make a bigger commotion about it ) & walking out. "Wait 'til I'm out of the damn hallway. It ain't gonna be a chummy interaction if I see your face outside of work."

how could he think that this would have been so easy? yes, he knew that iceburg had been the one who let him come back initially, but the moment he heard the door slam behind paulie, kaku knew that this was going to be a tough situation for him.

"paulie i---" was all that he could get out before his shirt had been gripped and his person pulled in closer to hear what the other had to say. his heart was pounding in his chest over the hatred in paulie's eyes as he couldn't so much as look at him. and he was right, after everything that he pulled with the other members of cp9, he didn't think he would ever be welcomed back here so easily.

probation, that's what iceburg had said when he was reinstated to be a shipwright. he would have to go through a year of probation before he would get any of his trust back, if he ever got that trust back at all would be a miracle. he had to show up on time every day, do whatever the others told him without any backlash and if there was there would be consequences, severe is the word iceburg had used. this was more than kaku deserved and he knew it.

being pushed away, he regained his composure, though the beating of his heart still didn't subside, he didn't think that it would for a while.

sorry, i'm so sorry, was what he wanted to say at this moment, but he knew that those words weren't going to be enough, how could they be enough? he would just be saying excuses after such words anyway, and he knew that paulie deserved better than to hear such things right now. he couldn't say anything without it sounding like excuses, so he just kept his mouth shut and listened to what paulie had to say.

"5am, got it," was what he finally said as the other stormed out of the room, leaving kaku to his own thoughts. sitting down on the chair by the desk he put his head in his hands, wondering why he even came here to begin with.

[ducknotinarow]

2k3/7 Raph Don - #

| send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:

"jeez ain't we done rumagin' through my phone yet? for fucks sake"

As with previous 03/07 I'll point out any changes between the times -what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone

'Donnie'

"hmm well 'hat's easy, Donnie course what I put 'em as. Yeah sure ain't nothing unique lots call Don, Donnie even Mikey at times. But well he always Donnie ta me. No differe 'han how he calls me Raphie still I guess. Just was easier when we were jus' tots an' all. Don comin' ta me cryin' 'Raphie, Raphie, Raphie' onve small 'hings. But I always answered." he chuckles a little at the memory " uh still sorta dose it now thinkin' bout it now?" He rubs at the side of his head "Though I useta do it too...mostly if I saw a bug since he never mind grabbin' 'em" He shrives a bit he still hates them. "Jus' what we do. Others may use the nicknames. I don' mind much if family uses it but I guess it jus' got different meaning with Don an' I." - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

[image description ] A photo of Donnie clearly facing the camera a obvious annoyed glare aimed at Raphael who took the photo with some grease smuges coating their olive skin. Nothing about this photo is flattering to say the least. As Don's beak is even pouting when seeming aware of them getting thier picture taken.

That usual little chuckle rumble out over Raphael's tongue now shoulders shaking slightly even "I told 'em he was lokkin' real hot for Von an' his date. Said she gonna change their plans second she sees 'em even." he chuckles more explaining the look on Don's face for the contact photo. "Sometimes Don asks me ta help 'em wit' his projects. Was wantin' ta fix up the tank. I may not know much with the techy stuff but I know the maniacal side's makin' sure nothin' gonna blow out the engines afta all." Raph soon smiles to himself. "I kind of 'ike gettin' ta work wit' 'em 'ike this. We jus' take up own spaces to do what we gotta do. Throw on some rock music. Sometimes we use it as a chance to share song wit' each other. An' jus' talk. Nothin' speical sometimes we just bitchin' to the other. I love hearin' Don get mad it's funny. He don' think it funny but eh it's funny. Might talk 'bout Casey and Von even or complain 'bout Mikey an' Leo. Sometimes nice thin's depends. Mostly we joke an' such. Dunno maybe cause he workin' but it's fun workin' on stuff with Don cause of how his mood seems ta change. Jus' fun. Even those times he wanna swing a sludge hammer on me."

07 - [image description] is almost the same but Donnie is smiling in the photo, shell cycle behind the purple banded turtle. "I had stopped usin' that bike..since Don made it for me so it went wit' out a lotta love. So I asked Don 'bout fixin' it together...cause I missed those old times." Soft sadden smile over lost times for stupid reasons. - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

'our love' by Bee Gees (songs about brotherly love and it just sweet preform in honor of brother after getting a grammy ;3;) I hold you near but you're so far away And it's losing you I can't believe To watch you leave and let this feeling die You alone are the living thing that keeps me alive And tomorrow if I'm here without your love You know I can't survive Only my love can raise you high above it all

"I love my brother a lot at 'hat. He's my favorite outta the three of 'em. One i'm closest to. I can say we are also friends and not jus' brothers. I can talk to 'em and such but..damn I wish he trust me a bit more ya know?" 07: *same song just different secont of lyrics

We can take the darkness and make if full of light But let your love flow back to me How can you leave and let this feeling die This happy room will be a lonely place when you are gone And I won't even have your shoulders for the crying on No other women's love could be as true, I'm begging you "I neva' changed the song..but the meanin' has changed for me. I put it at a different spot even cause of it. I missed him alot."

- my muse’s last text to your muse

03 : [text] Donnie if ya awake

[text] who I kidding. -_- [text] I needja! :O

[text] bring a hammer! or a torch! yeah Torch I need ta fuckin burn this nasty ass bug to ashes! >:I 07 : [text] saw ya were low grab ya some coffee, left on the counter

[thejuniperofficial]

Wildflower

Chapter 1: Only Friend

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You find yourself on edge as you plan to scavenge uncharted territory after a particularly ill crop season. Night falls and you begin to reminisce a childhood memory.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 986

Series Masterlist

You swing the handle of your ax above your head and feel the perspiration roll down your neck. With a strained grunt, you bring your elbows down, swiftly embedding the blade through the grain of wood. The block of lumber splits and flies in two directions.

That should be enough, for now.

You repeat the same motion and fix the ax firmly at the center of the stump. After wiping moisture off your brow, you collect the fruits of labor in your arms and head inside, tripping up the steps in the process. Swinging the door open, a burst of air riles up the dust on the floorboards. The temperature was dropping and the nights were undoubtedly cooler, ‘tis the season, after all. 

The screen door slams shut with a sharp sound, causing a feline to scurry across the beaten rug. He looks behind him in bewilderment, its constricted pupils encased in an emerald pool.

“Sorry, baby. Comin’ through,'' you apologize to the animal before kneeling in front of the fireplace to replenish the wood, keeping the extras aside for later.

You worked up quite the nerves for tomorrow. It had been a while since you ventured out of the confines of your safehouse. You scored lucky with stocked pantries nearby, but times were tough. You’ve encountered a particularly nasty weevil problem during the summer, in addition to a slightly immobilizing injury. A sprained ankle. The whole ordeal caused you to go through your emergency canned reserves. That also meant you had no supply for the winter. Your stock became dangerously low and you were faced with two options. Take a trip further out and bring back a miracle, or leave the quaint little house for good. The moment your ankle healed you’d take the chance. You weren’t ready to abandon ship. Plus, it would break your heart to leave your only friend.

He was hiding under the cupboards when you first met him. You were looking for a place to lay low as you scoured the neighborhood. He was a frightened little thing, shaking like a leaf when you reached out to him. He was a scrappy black kitten and you had been traveling alone silently for far too long. Later that evening, you shared a can of sardines over a candle-lit dinner. 

From when you planted the first tomato seed, found in the garden center close by, to when you took a bite of your first successful product; your friend was there through it all. He hunted his own critters for dinner and would occasionally bring you a share of your own. But, it usually ended with you politely tossing the symbol of consideration away. 

One day, you sat down and told the kitten your entire life story. What you went through before and what came about after. Though he slept through most of the retelling, he was good company and your only source of entertainment. 

As he grew older, he became increasingly more adventurous and would leave for longer periods of time. But he always managed to find his way back. You were convinced the clever feline knew to avoid the dead ones. He was content with your presence, as you were with his.  

Before you knew it, things settled down and you decided to stay more permanently than intended. You name him ‘Friend’.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow,” you speak into the silence, growing tired of the crackling fire.

Night settled in quickly and Friend was at the dinner table eating the last of his plate. He began to struggle with hunting as it nights got colder so you supplemented his meals with leftovers, which wasn't much. You reach out and pet him between the ears, his little head still bouncing from devouring his share.

“It’s just been a while, that's all.” You seemingly reason with no one.

The black feline stretches, his belly now satisfied and full. You pet him once more and his body leans into one side, nearly knocking the centerpiece vase into pieces.

Your arms reach out with great reflex, catching it successfully. Friend darts away from the commotion. Sighing, you steady the piece in your hands and place it back on the surface.

The wildflowers were wilting, almost symbolizing your recent struggle this past season. You take the crumbling petals between your fingers and the pieces break off with solemn ease.

“You give these to the ones you love the most,” your father bends down to a patch of growth.

You were young. Vin was not much younger. Every day after work, your father met the two of you at the bus stop and walked home hand-in-hand. On this particular journey back, the three of you take a detour. The ‘see-nick’ path, your dad called it.

“What are they?” Vin squats down curiously.

Your father pinches the thin stem and hands it to the boy. Vin takes it and brings it closer, examining the vibrant petals.

“It’s a wildflower. I learned about this in science class,” you bragged. The bigger man turns to you and offers you your own stem, “That’s right, peach. A wildflower.”

You take it, spinning the stem to create a neat motion picture of color.

You let the dry petals fall between your fingers before brushing the remains off the table.

“I’ll find something for us,” you declare into nothing. 

The house creaks as the wind settles it. You check the doors and peer through the windows a final time before closing them, dimming the oil lamp in the process. You shuffle to bed and throw your blankets on, giving the underside of your pillow a quick feel to confirm the hidden blade there. You yawn and turn in for the night, feeling unconsciousness slowly creep in.

Right before it takes you wholly, you feel your friend land gingerly on the foot of the bed before making his way toward the curl of your legs. He settles in and purrs.

Your body finally succumbs to the dark.

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-

Thank you for reading! I can’t wait to throw Daryl into this series.

[mayansmcsblog]

Her world or mine

I have no idea when i wrote this but i found it in my drafts half done so i finished it and- yh that's about it😅

This was meant to be based upon the song her world or mine but i got off track so its only loosely based upon it.

word count: 3640

Enjoy!

He hasn't used the truck for weeks, he had no reason to anymore, being in it only brought back memories of you. The long drives, the short drives too. The way you would hold his hand while he was driving or how you would remind him to pay attention to the road when he looked in your direction for too long. All the memories were fresh within his mind- almost as if it was yesterday. 

Even now, he was only sitting in it, he had to do the beer run and obviously that couldn't be done on a bike, he had to take the truck, but all he could think about was how you used to sit in the passenger seat beside him. He could see it in his mind so vividly, if he didn’t know you had moved on he would swear you were sitting with him. 

Looking at the dash his gaze caught the Polaroid photo that was still in its place next to the radio. Your face accompanied a smile whilst his had his usual ‘tough’ man expression, but if you looked close enough, you would be able to see a small smile placed upon his lips. You took it at one of the infamous Mayans parties, he remembered how it took you around 10 minutes to ‘convince’ him to take it, he wanted to take it from the moment you suggested it but he wondered how far you would go to get him to do it

-

“Please” you had been begging him for the last 5 minutes in attempt to get him to take a photo with you but to no avail

“No” you two were sitting on the bench outside the clubhouse, people surrounding the both of you, everyone was involved on their own conversations so neither of you paid any mind to them. Of course he was still aware of his surroundings but was more relaxed than usual

“But come on” you begged

“No y/n” he kept his face as straight as he could but you could slowly see a shadow of a smirk forming upon his lips

“Why?”

“No face no case” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face, clearly that was a lie. Not even 20 minus prior you had taken a photo of all of the club members standing outside of the clubhouse per bishop’s request so he could frame it and hang it somewhere within the clubhouse to show off the members.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so adamant? “He questioned

“Because” 

“Because what?” standing up he motioned for you to do so as well,

“Just because”

“Come on follow me”

Standing up you took this hand as led you away from the party,

“Where are we going?”

“To take this god damn photo”

-

Recalling that night he felt a pain inevitably run across his chest, sure you two were only friends when it was taken but that night was the foundation for building the relationship you two once shared. 

Why had he been so stupid to let you go?

He knew he would have to drive past your place to get to the brewery, it was inevitable really. There was no other way unless he was going to drive an extra 30 minutes, which he didn't have time for.

when he reached the turn in to your street he slowed down a little, looking at your house from a distance he could see a car he didn’t recognize in the driveway. As he got closer he could see two people on the porch, he immediately recognized you accompanied by some guy. 

Of course you had someone else.

-----

Sitting on the couch you couldn't help but let your mind drift back to him, you missed his smile, you missed the way he would have a running commentary while watching anything on the TV, you missed how he would hold you after a long day, you missed everything about him.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren't you?” 

You did nothing but hum in response

Your brother had elected to stay with you for a few weeks while he was on a business trip for some type of expansion for the company he worked for. Originally it was a good idea, it kept you mind off Ez, but the more time your brother was here, the more he talked about his wife back home and how he couldn't wait to get back to her just made you think about how you don't have someone in your life to look forward to anymore, you no longer had someone you could tell everything to, someone who would stay by your side, someone you knew would be waiting for you when you were away from home. As much as you loved your brother, you were thankful he was leaving tomorrow

“Im gonna go get a drink” standing up you heard your brother mumble something in response but you elected ignored him and heading to the kitchen.

As you approached the fridge you spotted the picture of you and Ezekiel stuck on the door. You were pretty sure it was Coco who had taken when him, you, Ez and Angel went over the border for a day because none of you had anything to do and for some reason Mexico was the first thing that was suggested. You had been meaning to get rid of it but couldn't bring yourself to. Alot of memories were collected between the four of you, some of them you were just not ready to let go of yet.

By now he was probably already in another relationship so why were you still holding on?

Grabbing a bottle of water you headed outside and sat on the porch steps. You knew there was a party at the clubhouse tonight, Angel had invited you to come, but you knew Ez would be there. 

Did you really want to see a girl all over him while you're still here alone? Because that would definitely happen

Maybe he wouldn't be there? Or maybe he would be too busy doing stuff to even realize you were there 

You were too wrapped up in your own mind to even realize your brother had stepped outside till you heard a creak from the wood behind you 

“Y/n?”

“Yeah” 

“you okay?" He asked sitting beside you

 “yep"

You two sat in silence for a few moments before he started talking once again

“I love you ye? Don’t let that boy ruin you. He lost you by his own fault. You did nothing” he rambled on about how you should have been treated better and how Ez lost the best thing he could ever have. But you knew he was wrong.

Ezekiel always treated you like a queen, your brother met him one time and barely spoke to him for longer than five minutes. As far as you were concerned you brother didn't know anything about him

While he was rambling you were looking into the distance, mainly just looking at the sky but you could have sworn you saw his truck drive past, but maybe you were just seeing things right? His truck wasn't the only one, there were probably millions of them.

-

The party was in full swing, people were everywhere, the room full of patches from all over. mass amounts of people from charters were visiting in celebration of a new deal with the sons, leaving Ez to tend the bar along with some hang rounds.

Wiping down the bar he couldn't help but think about you for the billionth time today. He knew you two broke things off but it didn't mean you had to leave everyone from the club behind as well as him.

"Bro what the hell is wrong with you?" Angel questioned

"Nothing" shrugging his shoulders he dropped the bar rag and turned to get angel a beer from the fridge behind him

"Stop lyin man, what's going on in that head?" Angel knew his own brother better then to believe 'nothing' was going on with him, something was always going on up in Ez's brain, even if he didn't admit it

"I dunno man, I just think it's weird how y/n left us you know?" Ez shrugged again, handing angel a beer

"She didn't leave us. She’s distancing herself. Got a lot of family shit going on right now" he explained, you kept Angel in the loop with everything, after all he was your best friend even before Ez and you got together, if Ez wouldn't tell you something- Angel would.

"Just think it’s weird" Ez repeated, messing with the bar rag once again

"Ya well she’s coming tonight”

Before Ez could respond coco stood next to Angel 

"Who’s comin?"

The brothers looked at each other for a moment before angel came up with an idea 

"Just some random bird for our boy scout to bed"

"My man," Coco chuckled "finally gonna get your dick wet huh?"

----

You knew this was a bad idea, you knew he would be here. 

Was he going to be with another girl? Actually stupid question, of course he would be

Opening your phone you sent angel a text

‘I'm like five minutes out but i swear to God if you abandon me tonight i will hit you so hard that you can't remember anything for a week’

At least he would walk in with you so you weren’t alone right?

---

Angel stood up abruptly in the middle of a conversation he was having

"Where the fuck you going?" Coco questioned, lighting a cigarette from the chair he was sitting in

"Meet a friend"

"A friend huh?"

"Yeah...maybe you'll like her" Angel replied before grabbing his beer and retreating towards the door.

---

Walking through the gate you saw the front of the club littered with patches. Some of them were from different charters. Weird, angel never mentioned other charters visiting, by the look of the outside, you could only imagine the clubhouse itself is packed with people.

Scanning the crowd you spotted the person in question walking towards you

“Hey stupid face”

“good evening stupid head”

“that's basically the same thing i just said” 

"oh shut up i couldn't think of insult fast enough”

Pulling you into a hug you couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed. Angel was always like an older brother to you, an annoying one at that but still a brother.

It had been weeks since you saw him, being back in his company made you feel safe again, almost like a sense of home

He placed a kiss on your temple “We missed you here”

“Yeah, I know” letting him go you looked around, mainly to see if any of the other guys were in sight but also to see if coco was around, expecting to be attacked as per usual. 

Angel took notice of you scanning the crowd “He's inside”

“Hmm? Sorry I got no idea what you're on about”

Pulling you into his side he wrapped an arm around your shoulders “sure ya don't”

Walking inside you scanned the crowd once again, thankfully coco was nowhere to be seen for the moment and most of the guys were spread out around the room. Bishop and Taza were playing pool, Gilly and Creeper were sitting at the table in a conversation whilst hank sat opposite them looking at something on his phone, Ez was tending the bar like usual but this time he was accompanied by some hang rounds.

At least there isn't girls hanging off him yet 

“C'mon let’s get a drink huh” angel lightly shoved you towards the bar playfully.

“No”

“No?” his eyebrows raised playfully

“No and if you try to make me go over there with you i promise i will embarrass you” you laughed 

“Fine”

After he got the drinks you both sat at a table in the corner for a while talking, the majority of the topics were about what had been happening while you were distanced from everyone.

Eventually Coco spotted you two and joined in the conversation. you sat talking to the two of them while everyone else was up to their own things, you didn't mind, the both of them combined made for some very interesting storys, the conversation could never die. After around 10 minutes, Angel had left you two alone saying he “wasn't bout to listen to this shit ''- which was super ironic considering the topic of conversation was about modifications for a new bike coco had brought a few days ago

“How does your bike handle anyway? I heard they are bottom heavy and hard to manoeuvre sometimes” you questioned. overtime Ez had taught you some things about bikes, mainly when he was just rambling about random things not thinking you were really paying attention to what he was saying

“It’s alright i guess, sometimes it slips when I lean too far on corners, other times it tends to not wanna go the way I need to but other than that it handles pretty well, arms hurt like a bitch after long ride though” he explained

Nodding your head you understood where he was coming from, having your arms at that angle for hours must have taken its toll

“Ay '' he nodded his head towards someone behind you, Turning your head you saw it was Ez walking through the door with Angel, seemingly engrossed in some type of conversation they were having.

Despite spotting him earlier you only scanned over his appearance but now you actually took a good look at him, he looked different, not much but still different from before. His hair was in the same style but it little more grown out then usual, his facial hair had grown out a little too. His eyes had bangs underneath them and his face looked drained.

All in all he looked like shit.

“You know he’s not the same without you right?” bringing your attention back to coco you couldn't help but feel like you were to blame, maybe if you fought harder of him you two would have never split.

“You two spoke since?” he questioned

“Nope...I got a few drunk calls saying he was sorry but other than that. No” you shook your head. 

After you two first broke up he called you around a week later rambling about something but since he was slurring his words- you could barely understand anything he was saying. You got about 2 voicemails of him saying he was sorry and how he fucked up but- you never spoke to him, never texted him back when he would ask you if you were coming to one of the parties.

“The amount of times we've had to stop him from drunk calling you is unreal”

Playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of you, you thought about what coco said- clearly Ez had attempted to talk to you at some point, but why? The whole breakup was because he needed “space” to deal with some things so why was he trying to talk to you?

“He wanted space, I gave it to him” you shrugged, slowly peeling off the label

“Didn’t mean you had to leave us too” looking up from the bottle you saw coco was now avoiding your gaze

“Yeah...I know” maybe it was wrong of you to drop everyone, but being around them would have only brought back memories of you and Ez. At the time it seemed like a good idea to distance yourself from all of the guys, but now, despite only being here for a hour, you could tell how much you really missed being around them.

“You know he’s walking over here right?” Dropping your head onto the table you let out a sigh causing coco to laugh “I’ll leave you two alone huh?” lifting your head up you looked at him with a facial expression as if to say ‘don’t leave me’ but he did anyway

“Y/n” his voice was low, almost as if he didn’t believe he was saying your name again

“Ezekiel”

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking” sitting up straight you turned in your seat to look at him. He looked even worse up close- the bags under his eyes were alot darker then they seemed from a distance, they made it appear like he hadn’t slept for days, you couldn’t help but notice he had a bruise slowly forming on top of his right eyebrow.

“What happened there?”

He looked confused for a moment till you pointed to his eyebrow

“Oh I erm…got into a fight.....with a wall” his eyes were trained onto the floor, almost like he was ashamed.

You hummed in response not sure how to respond without laughing 

“So how have you been?” he questions

“Good i guess..how about you?”

“Alright I suppose”

What followed was nothing but silence between the both of you, neither of you knowing what to say. The sounds of other people talking and rock music became almost deafening as the two of you stayed silent

“Well this got really awkward fast” you spoke up causing Ez to laugh a little

“Yeah..yeah it did” he nodded

After a few more moments you stood from your chair “I'm just gonna-”

“Yeah go, i get it go ahead” he finished your sentence for you.

Nodding you quickly made your way outside, the yard was almost empty by now, people had either left for the night or had moved inside.

You spotted Angel sitting on the front steps fiddling with one of the rings on his hand while looking at something in the distance. You sat beside him in silence, neither of you even attempting to make conversation but simply just being trapped within your own minds.

When you and Ez broke up you knew things would change, you knew the two of you probably wouldn't be able to have the same conversations you would before, but you never expected them being so awkward.

Maybe it was just because the wound was still pretty fresh, after all it had only been just over a month

After a few minutes you heard the door behind you open as someone stepped out, seconds later a figure sat next to you, looking over you saw it was coco

“What we doin? havin a lil moment to yourselves” he asked lighting up a cigarette and offering the both of you one

“Yep” Angel responded, taking one and lighting it before looking somewhere in the distance once again. All three of you sat for a few minutes just looking at seemingly nothing in particular.

Maybe it won't be like this forever? At some point there has got to be a time where you can come to the club without feeling awkward because ez’s here.

You heard the clubhouse door open once more behind you and once again, you didn't turn around, but coco did

"Ay man sit" you heard him say as he snapped his fingers at space left beside him to whoever stepped out from the door. It didn't take long for whoever it was to sit down.

Much like he did with you and Angel, Coco offered the person a cigarette which they must of silently declined from the lack of verbal exchange.

There has to be a point when you and the club can all hang out together like before....there has to be a stage where you and Ez can talk like normal people without it being awkward….right?

Seemingly out of no were Coco spoke up, nodding his head towards two stacked benches on the opposite side of the yard "You think i could clear those in one attempt?"

Angel was the first to respond "Absolutely fucking not" he paused for a moment- looking where the benches were stacked "but I'd love to see you try"

"I bet $50 you fail and fall face first" someone spoke up, looking to your left you finally realized who stepped out earlier ..Ezekiel

"Bet, ill prove you wrong" coco stood, taking off his kutte and placing it on the stair rail "you two wanna place any bets?" Coco looked at you and Angel

"Nope, I'm good" you shook your head

"I bet $50 that you don't clear it" Angel responded

"You have no faith pretty boy" coco responded, shaking his head  as he started to walk over to the benches

"This is going to end in a hospital trip" you stated making both Angel and Ez laugh

All three of you watched as coco seemed to examine the height of the two benches, planning the distance he would have to run to gain enough speed to propel himself over them and how he would land the jump

"You think he's gonna snap his nose again?" Ezekiel questioned

"Definitely" both you and Angel replied

All three of you watched as coco began to run towards the benches, from your angle it looked as if he could clear it....you were wrong. 

Seconds later coco was laying face first in the dirt, one leg was on the floor while the other was stuck in a piece of wood on the bench that had broke underneath his weight

"I think i broke my nose" you heard coco exclaimed causing all three of you to laugh. The few people who were still outside drew their attention to the scene and started laughing too when they realized what happened.

"Ill go get some paper towels" you said, still laughing.

Maybe this was a sign nothing had changed between the four of you, that you could all still hang out and do stupid stuff like before

Maybe nothing has to change

-------------

An| hope you enjoyed this fic. Honestly have no idea why or when i started writing this but 🤷🏼‍♀️ . *sorry for any spelling or grammar errors or any parts that don't make sense. only scanned it before posting it*

ALSO- i swear part two to the prank war is coming! Its just talking awhile for me to find a way to describe to things going on as well as being busy with other stuff.

[dontworrysunflower]

Merry Fucking Christmas | h.s.

a/n: i’m baaaaccckk!! lol idk it took me a while to finish this and i was gonna have it finished before christmas but then i was exposed to covid so i was little paranoid but anyway (i’m good tho). merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know this years been hard but hopefully we can make it a little better :)

warnings: drinking, angst?? idk not proof read word vomit, some language too

word count: 3.1k

also thank you @watchmegetobsessed !!

feedback/reblogs appreciated

You knew the holidays this year were going to be difficult. You procrastinated on getting gifts for your friends. Your work seemed to pile up on your desk since you got your promotion. You weren’t able to fly back home, and you still had some thanksgiving weight you weren’t able to put off.

Oh yeah, another thing. Harry was still with his girlfriend.

You met Katy, Harry’s girlfriend, at his birthday party in February. She was the epitome of ‘his type’. She had bleach blonde extensions and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. She was tall and really, really loud.

Since then, she’s all he ever talked about when they weren’t together, but when they were in the same room, boy did you want to gag.

You thought they would last maybe three to four months, you were so sure, you bet with some of your other friends.

Needless to say, you lost quite a lot of money.

You tried not to let it bother you, really. But it was so hard when Harry is the literal sweetest person you’ve met, had the voice of an angel and wasn’t bad to look at.

You felt you were the closest with Harry when you moved to London. He made you feel welcome in your little friends group. There was a little flirting game between the two of you that you didn’t even notice until one of your friends brought it up.

“Oh c’mon, it’s so obvious you like each other.” Margot slurred, her second glass clinking against the table as she finished every drop.

“What?” You asked, baffled. Your eyes were wide and your face started to heat up. “He doesn’t like me.”

“But you like him?” Ava, a friend from work, smirked at you.

You stumbled on your words, wiping at the condensation on your glass.

But since he was in a relationship now, you felt almost icky around him. You felt so uncomfortable around him that you did whatever you could to not be in the same room as him.

You were ready for the holidays, you thought. It would give you a break from constantly thinking about him being so busy with your family back in your hometown.

You should’ve known London weather wouldn’t be in your favor. It rained constantly everyday and the fog seemed to get closer to the ground every other day. The weather was getting so bad that you started working from home, the roads too wet and icy to drive on. So honestly, you weren’t that surprised when airports closed due to the weather, meaning you had to spend Christmas in London.

With Harry.

The day after flights were cancelled Harry texted on your group chat saying he could host a dinner and party on Christmas eve and everyone was invited. You watched texts from your other friends flood in, some excited vulgar words were thrown in there as well.

You never responded. Not only because you still felt weird around him for having this massive crush on him, but because things haven’t really been the same between you two.

You can’t remember the last time you had a full on conversation with him before you had to excuse yourself because you couldn’t take the ache in your chest when you were around him, and he wasn’t yours. You can’t remember the last joke he ever told you or when you went out for lunch or drinks when it was only the two of you. You were sure he noticed how weird you were around him, but never said anything, so you let it be.

As the day neared, your mind would change on whether you were going or not. You didn’t want to seem bitchy and cold on what was supposed to be the happiest and cheerful day of the year, so you thought you would go. You thought of every reason you shouldn’t go that had nothing to do with Harry, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him cozy up with his very serious girlfriend.

But there would be alcohol, so you decided to go.

•••

Hey (y/n)! Think you come over early and help me set up for tomorrow? H xx

You stared at the text for what seemed like hours, but it was only a couple seconds. Before you could even register what your fingers were doing, you tied up a quick message and hit send before you could stop yourself.

Of course!! See you tomorrow!

You hated yourself for the rest of the day. Why would you do this to yourself? You could barely be in the same room as him and some other friends. How would you survive being alone before the party started?

•••

The butterflies in your stomach have not been able to settle since you woke up Christmas Eve morning. Just the thought of seeing him made you nervous. You almost didn’t get out of bed that morning. But you pat yourself on the back when your feet finally hit your wooden flooring and moved on with your day.

Your shoulders hung low beside you as the time to meet up grew closer, the sun lowering behind you, Christmas lights and inflatable decorations coming to life as stars dotted the sky.

You sighed heavily as you styled your hair and naturally did your makeup.

You slid on your silky, tight dress and grabbed your coat and quickly made your way to your car to get away from the bitter cold.

You rubbed your hands together, blowing into them to regain some feeling before turning the key into the ignition, quickly turning the heater on, Mariah Carey blasting through your speakers.

You were about to pull out of your driveway, mumbling along to Mariah’s notes when you realized you forgot the gifts.

•••

Your shoulders were hunched up as you knocked on the white door, your foot tapping against the brick stairs of Harry’s house as you waited for him to open it in the freezing cold.

You could hear shuffling from the other side and watched the doorknob wiggle, Harry having trouble with his lock since June and still hasn’t had anyone fix it.

The door swings open to reveal Harry in his glory, brown corduroy pants and an ugly Christmas sweater under an apron that’s tied around his slender waist that you’ve always been jealous of.

“Hey, sorry, come on in.” Harry said to you before moving out of the way, a bowl nestled between his side and his arm.

You mumbled a quiet thank you before stepping in, your cheeks reddening at the warmth enveloping you as you walked through the foyer of his home.

“Mm,” he hummed as he remembered something. He puts down the bowl he had on his white kitchen counter and waddles over to you, a small curve on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You hate that nickname. But you don’t. You hate the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he says that word. You hate the goosebumps it causes you and the hairs sticking up on your neck when he says the one thing you feel too harshly for him. And you hate how much he doesn’t feel it back.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” You mumbled into his neck, his cologne flooding your senses bringing you comfort.

He doesn’t let go of you yet, but he backs up just a little to see you. “You look gorgeous, (y/n).”

The air gets stuck in your lungs and you almost forgot how to formulate words. You hoped Harry thought the pigment on your cheeks would be from the cold because it totally was. Before it was obvious how his words affected you, you stuttered out a few words. “Thank you, you look nice too.”

He chuckled at you, the breath passing his lips hitting your neck, a tingle passing through your spine. “You don’t have to lie, darling.” He squeezed you one last time before letting you go, your body instantly becoming colder as he backed away.

There's a low hum of Christmas music playing in his surround sound system, a tall tree tucked in a corner between his burning fireplace and window looking out onto the street.

You turn your attention back to Harry as he speaks up again, his famous dimples puncturing his cheeks. “Thanks fo’ comin’ early to help me out.”

You rolled your coat off your shoulders and hung by the door, walking up to him as he moved around the kitchen. “Oh yeah, it’s no problem. Not like I had anything else to do.”

He gave you a small sympathetic smile before throwing a tray full of greens into the oven. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go see your family.”

You shrug as you run your finger on the edge of his marble counter. “It’s alright, nothing I can do much anyway.” You perk up when you remember what you’re doing here so early in the first place. “Guess that’s why I’m here, no? What can I help you with?” Your heels click as you move around the counter closer to him.

“Nope.” His lips puckered as he pushed you back to where you were standing. “Just stand there and talk to me. Wine?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you blindly nod, watching him uncork a bottle of Moscato. Your favorite.

He hands you a glass of the sparkling wine before turning back around to the dishes, prepping food of all kinds for everyone and most importantly; eggnog.

“But, you said you needed my help.”

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks reddening. From your comment or from the wine? You weren’t going to get your hopes up. “I just need some company before the party. Just stand there and look pretty.”

You try your hardest ignore the blush on your cheeks. You twirl the wine glass from the neck, watching the liquid swirl around in the depths of the glass. “What about Katy?”

He sighs deeply, opening the oven to check on the food. “We’ve been kind of fighting lately.”

You did your best to stop the grin from forming on your lips, hoping he did notice your sudden burst at the new information. They are still together, so you can’t act on anything. “I’m sorry. Can I ask what’s going on?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know really. Anything and everything. Every little thing I do annoys her and anything she does annoys me. It just wasn’t the same.”

“Is she coming?” You ask before you can think about it.

He shrugs again, shoulders hanging more than usual. “I don’t think so. She said she was staying home since she can‘t fly back to her family either.”

A silence hangs between the two of you when neither of you said anything, not really sure of what needs to be said next.

“I don’t think I feel the same way for her as I did in the beginning.” Harry mumbled, arms crossed over his chest as his hip leaning against the counter, his usually bright eyes a little darker, a little sadder.

You walk up to him and lay your hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “It’s not my business but, if you really feel that way, you shouldn’t lead her on, it’ll only hurt both of you.”

Harry looks down at the floor as he nods. “Thanks, love.”

There’s a wave of silence between you again as he raises his head to look at you. You almost felt small under his gaze. Something about his crystal green eyes always made you nervous. You were scared he could see what you were really thinking.

And you also swear his eyes fell to your lips.

•••

The dinner party was in full swing now, people’s laughter bleeding in with the loud Christmas music playing around the house. Some people were dancing in front of the fireplace, drinks being refilled every once in a while.

You were standing by the counter with your friends, Margot and Ava, chatting and drinking your eggnog instead of the wine you had before the party started. You had completely forgotten about the wonderful man hosting this party, the conversation you had earlier with him slipping your mind as the drink in your hand lowered to the bottom of the glass, intoxicating your thoughts.

Even though you offered to help, Harry didn’t let you help with the rest of dinner before everyone came over, so now the food still wasn’t ready as people flooded in. You heard him say something about potatoes and that was as much as you knew of the food preparation and when you would be able to eat.

The music is lowered a bit and then a clicking sound was heard, everyone turning their heads towards Harry, who clinked a fork against his glass. “Dinner is ready!”

Everyone cheered and started making their way towards the dining room. Most people had already filtered towards the next room when a knock on the front door was heard.

You turned your head as Harry twisted the knob. You were sure Harry's face mimicked yours when you saw who was standing at the doorway.

There stood Katy, hair newly bleached and a little overdressed.

She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, her plump lips repeatedly marking his face with the bright lipstick.

“Oh god,” you waltzed over towards Ava, who was pouring herself a new glass of eggnog. “pass me the eggnog, I can’t stand this sober.” You pushed her over slightly and grabbed the handle of the ladle she was using, filling up your cup almost to the brim.

Ava looked at you in curiosity at your sudden change, carefully looking over at the lovely couple still by the door. “Wait, I thought you told me they were fighting.” She whispered beside you, eyes widening as she watched you gulp down some of the eggnog you just served yourself to give yourself some more.

“Guess fucking not.” You were much less sober now, on the brink of tipsy and drunk. Your words slurred, eyelids heavy, vision blurry. “Let’s go fucking eat.” You dragged Ava by the wrist towards the commotion in the dining room, almost, but not quite forgetting about the couple behind you.

•••

You’ve had four glasses of eggnog. Or was it five? But now, you stand in front of the bowl, pouring some into your glass again, making it six.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” You hear his sultry voice behind you, his tone a little sassy and annoyed, but you didn’t care.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You slurred, turning around to face him. His pink lips were turned down in a frown, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his buff arms that were constricted in his sweater cross in front of his chest. “Gonna go kiss your girlfriend some more?” You stumbled on your feet, your drink almost spilling over the rim.

“What does that have to do with anything?” His face changed from annoyance to confusion. His thumb twisting the ring on his other finger nervously.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but even in this drunk state you knew not to say anything. You chug the creamy drink, keeping eye contact with him, watching his face change again. You didn’t care.

He obviously didn’t care either.

You sighed dramatically as you finished the drink. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

•••

You had sobered up quite a bit after your little encounter with Harry, mainly because there was no eggnog left.

You realized it was for the better though, so you made your way back into the kitchen, doing your best to not stumble or bump against anything as you grabbed an empty cup to fill with water.

“I am really sorry.” You knew his voice anywhere. But it wasn’t his usual chirpy, charming voice he had that always soothed you, it sounded more sad and somber.

“On Christmas? Out of any day you chose today?” Katy sniffled, voice wobbly and hurt.

“I know but, you know we can’t go on any longer, we’ll just hurt each other more.”

“I think I'm going to head out.”

You don’t hear Harry say anything back, but the sound of the door clicking open catches your attention and you almost turn around to watch.

“I just have one question.” Katy said weakly.

You walked away before you could hear anything else.

•••

Even though you were still a little upset at Harry (For what? You weren’t sure anymore), you stayed behind as everyone left to help him clean up before you head home.

You were putting things back in his refrigerator when you heard the front door close, the light chatter and drunken goodbyes silenced by the wooden door.

You kept your back towards the door, suddenly nervous of the words that would be spoken between the two of you.

“(y/n), can we talk?” Harry’s voice was low and sultry, your knees almost gave out.

“I should um-I should get going. It’s late.” You hurry around him to grab your things and for the door, but he holds your wrist.

“Please?” He sounded desperate, and for the first time in what felt like days you looked up into his emerald eyes. There was that desperate look in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down into a frown.

You sigh and nod slowly.

He lets go of your wrist and stuffed his hands in his back pockets, his pink cheeks either from the cold or from nervousness.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to get mad and I know I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Is that it?

You weren’t going to lie, you thought he would profess his love to you or something.

“I um- I also,” he swallows and takes your hand, his rings cold to the touch. “I broke up with Katy.”

Your mouth opened for words to come out but nothing ever left your lips.

“Do you want to know the real reason why Katy and I were fighting?”

You’re still speechless, scared of the answer, even though you have an idea of what he'll say.

“I’ve always liked you, (y/n).” His shoulders rise in a deep breath. “I guess, I don’t know, I thought if I started seeing someone else it would it easier but, not being with you this past year has been hell and I know I haven’t made it any easier with being with Katy but—”

Your lips crash on his, your arms wrapping his neck, your fingers immediately tangling in his brown locks.

He stumbles back in shock but grabs at your hips, bringing you closer to his chest.

His pink lips press against yours, the corners slowly turning up into a smile, breaking your kiss.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

•••

Taglist:

@samaratheweirdo @sarcasticallywitty15

(Let me know if you would like to be added or taken off taglist.)

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode three (word count: 1,981)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: references to drugs, language, sexual references, typos and mediocre writing

wowowow thank you so much for all of the support. it may not seem like a lot but i really didn’t expect anyone to find my work so this is pretty fucking cool. i’m sorry for going on a bit of a hiatus, but i hope you enjoy this chapter. literally thank you so so much for reading. this is super cool

Nancy had created a habit of meeting with Fez at his gas station. He would always be sitting in the same chair right outside. The first time she had come to see him, she plopped down on the ground beside him and gave him a small smile.

“I can go get you a chair if ya want,” he had told her, laughing.

She looked down, embarrassed but still shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

He scoffed at that. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He stood and got up before turning to her again. “What kinda candy you like?”

“M&Ms?” she replied.

“Regular?”

“Sure.”

He came back with a camping chair and sat it next to his own before tossing M&Ms her way. They sat quietly for a moment, Nancy eating her candy, before Fez finally spoke.

“How is Rue?”

“She’s good, yeah,” Nancy assured, nodding her head. “She’s spending a lot of time with Jules. They’re good for each other.”

“Word,” he commented, watching Nancy closely.

Nancy smiled, giggling to herself. “Yeah, but Rue has been complaining about how addicted to Jules has been to her phone,” she snorted. “I swear to God, she sounds like my dad.” She looked up at Fez, who was staring right back at her. He chuckled softly. 

“It’s just fucking weird though,” Nancy continued. “My brother’s been texting someone nonstop all week. Maddy even asked me about it.”

“They datin’ right?”

“Yeah,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, I had no idea what to tell her. But Kat has been on her phone nonstop too.”

“She came in ta talk ta Ash today,” Fez told her. Nancy’s head perked up in surprise.

“Really? Why?”

Fezco shrugged. “Came in askin’ about Bitcoin.”

“Bitcoin?” Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why was she asking Ashtray about Bitcoin?”

“I don’t know,” he replied coolly. “But we told her we’d help her with everythin’ ‘cept human trafficking.”

Nancy snorted, “Well of course she’s not messing with human trafficking.”

“Aye we didn’t know,” he defended himself. “We was jus’ makin’ sure.”

They both smiled at each other and laughed. They talked for the rest of the evening before Nancy had to go home for dinner. They texted all that night, talking about everything from TV shows to Nancy’s weird family drama. But even when she had seen his name pop up so many times before, she still felt butterflies in her stomach when he texted her goodnight.

A couple days later, Nancy was at Cassie’s house. She was there to help her pack for her weekend in college with Mckay, but had ended up at the foot of Lexi’s bed, helping her with homework. Maddy and Cassie were on one side of the room, debating on what Cassie should wear, while Kat sat on the loveseat across from Lexi and Nancy, her face buried in her phone.

A soft scoff from Kat caused Lexi to speak up. “What are you looking at?” she asked. Curiosity filled both of the girls’ eyes.

“Nothing. Just this, um, article,” Kat stuttered.

Nancy eyed her suspiciously while Lexi responded, “About what?”

“Um… you know, like, uh…” she paused for a moment. “The Holocaust.”

“Oh. Cool,” Lexi replied, not convinced. She and Nancy looked at each other before Nancy turned back to Kat.

“Had to think about that one, didn’t you?” she teased, a soft smile on her face.

Kat rolled her eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

Nancy turned back to Lexi and whispered, “Do you think she’s got a secret boyfriend?”

“It’s got to be that cute boy in her chemistry class, right?” Lexi replied.

“I can hear you, you know?” Kat called, before the three broke into laughter, Nancy mockingly holding up her hands in defense.

“Lex? Nance?” Cassie called, grabbing the two’s attention. She held up a blue blouse in front of her, a questioning look on her face.

“It’s cute,” Lexi nodded, before turning back to her work.

“And Mckay’s gonna love it,” Nancy confirmed, wiggling her eyebrows.

Maddy sighed, “I wish I had your collarbones.”

The door opened then, revealing Cassie’s mom. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you,” she deadpanned, looking at her daughter with pursed lips.

“Yeah, Cassie. Don’t get pregnant,” Kat joked, looking up at the girl.

“That’s not funny, Kat,” her mom replied, waltzing in the room with a glass of wine in hand. “But don’t you dare get pregnant.”

“Relax, mom. He has a roommate,” Cassie smirked, looking at her mom with knowing eyes. 

As Nancy listened to Cassie’s mom lay out all of her rules for the night, she couldn’t help but wish she had a relationship like that with her mother. She knew that their relationship wasn’t the best, not by a long run, but it still seemed better than the stark silence between Nancy and her mom. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had spoken to her mom.

When Mckay had finally arrived, the four girls and Cassie’s mom followed her out the front door.

“No funny business, Christopher!” her mother called. Meanwhile, Nancy and Lexi laughed silently at Maddy and Kat as they reenacted what would probably be Cassie and Mckay that night.

The next day Nancy went with Kat to Fez’s gas station so that Kat could talk to Ashtray. Fezco sat outside, as usual, and smiled at her as they walked up.

“What’s up?” Kat said coolly, before walking into the store.

“What’s up, Kat?” he replied, watching her as she walked by.

Nancy smiled and waved after Kat had gone inside.

“Hey,” Fez said softly, standing up beside her.

She looked up at him. “Hi.”

“You know what she’s up to?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“No idea,” Nancy laughed. “But it was an excuse to come see you. How’s business?” she teased.

He chuckled, “Slow.”

A comfortable silence came over them before he spoke again, prompting a smile to take over Nancy’s face and butterflies to flood into her stomach. “You wanna come to my place tomorrow? Since you know where it is?”

And that’s exactly where she found herself the next day after school. They had spent most of the afternoon on his couch, watching a movie and snacking on some popcorn he had made. They were laying together on the couch, and when the movie ended they both looked at each other. It was then when Nancy realized how close they really were.

“You liked it?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

“Of course,” she smirked. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

She saw his eyes flicker down to her lips, and she smiled. As they leaned closer to each other, Nancy's heart was beating in her chest so hard she could hear it too. She silently hoped that he couldn’t, heat flooding her cheeks. He had placed his hand gently on her waist, and just as their noses touched, there was banging on the door. They jumped away from each other, startled by the sudden noise.

Fezco cursed under his breath, letting out a quick apology. “Stay there,” he told her, before walking to the door. “Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s me. Open the door.” Rue’s voice was muffled, but Nancy recognized it, her eyes widening. Fezco looked at her for a moment before swinging the door open.

“Not today, Rue. Sorry,” Nancy heard him say.

“Come on, man. Don’t be a dick,” Rue scoffed, causing Nancy’s eyebrows to furrow, confused.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

“Look, man. All I-- all I need is just, like, a few OCs,” she stuttered.

“Sorry. I can’t help y--”

“Fez!” she interrupted. “Fez, I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, okay? So I need you to open up the door for me, okay? Can you open the door? Please?”

“I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, Rue,” Fez said softly.

Nancy stood up from the couch and began to quietly make her way around it.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “But you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Jus’ go home.” He backed away and put his hand on the door.

“Don’t!” Rue began to yell. “Fez! Don’t close the d--Fuck!”

He shut the door, and there was another loud bang.

“Fez! Open the fucking door please!” Rue yelled from the other side. “I’m begging you! Just open the door!”

Nancy watched as Fez leaned his forehead against the door. She slowly walked towards him.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man,” Rue accused. “You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers? And now all the sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?”

He turned to Nancy with tired eyes. She came closer to him, a look of concern washed over her face. He leaned up against the door, continuing to listen to Rue’s words.

“You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer!” she screamed, causing Nancy to shake her head. “You know that? You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells!”

Nancy was in front of him now, and she grabbed his arm gently, looking deep into his eyes. He looked at her too, and she shook her head, trying to tell him Rue’s words weren’t true. He turned away.

“Open the door!” Rue screamed, banging on the door. Nancy jumped back, startled, but Fezco stayed still. “Fuck you!” Rue continued. “Fuck you, Fez! Okay? Are you doing this because you care about me? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place! But you did! You fucking did! So open the goddamn door!” She hit it again. “Open the door!”

Fezco leaned off of the door and walked forward for a moment before turning around. “I can’t do it, Rue. I’m sorry,” he called, but she continued to scream at him from the other side. He glanced at Nancy, who was trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. “Sorry,” he whispered quietly to the door, before walking over to Nancy.

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You should go,” he said quietly. Rue’s cries still flooded the room. 

Nancy shook her head violently. “You know it’s not true, right? What she’s saying?”

He frowned and looked down at the ground, “It is.”

 “No,” Nancy said firmly. “It’s not she’s just trying to make you feel bad so you’ll--”

“Nancy, go. Now,” he interrupted her, looking straight into her eyes again. “Leave.”

Nancy looked at him, hurt shining in her eyes before she walked away and grabbed her backpack. She quickly made her way to the door, vigorously wiping the tears off her face. Without looking at Fezco, she swung the front door open and saw Rue, who stood at the door, completely broken.

“What are you doing here?” the frizzy-haired girl sobbed. 

Nancy said nothing as she squeezed through the door, making sure Rue wouldn’t be able to get inside. She looked at Rue with wide eyes before stuttering, “I-- I don’t--”

“Were you fucking him?” Rue’s cruel words smacked Nancy in the face.

“No,” Nancy snapped. “That’s a really fucked up thing to say.”

“You know this is your fault too?” Rue continued. “You never did anything to help me before I went to rehab.”

Nancy shook her head, ashamed. “Rue I--”

“And what are you doing now, huh?”

Nancy’s eyes burned viciously, and tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. She brushed past the girl and climbed onto her bike. 

“You’re sorry?” she heard Rue yell.. “Well that’s just great! You hear that Fez? Nancy said she’s fucking sorry!”

And as Nancy sped away on her bike, away from the man who she had started to truly care about a lot, she hoped he knew that she really was sorry.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Hillbilly Pitty-Pat

*While covering for Pac-Man, Pit is being chased through the Smash Mansion by Blinky, Inky, Pinky, and Clyde once again. He stops in front of the ballroom (it has a ballroom?!) and puts up a “Square Dance Tomorry Night” banner before diving inside.*

Inky: We’ll get that angel if it takes until dooms-a-day!

Clyde: Yeah, dooms-a-day!

Blinky: Is that even a word?!

*Pit, dressed up in a spare one of Palutena’s togas and a green wig he brought with him, steps out of the dance hall and whistles to get the ghosts’ attention.*

Pit, speaking in a surprisingly good feminine Texan accent: What’s your hurry, boys?

*The other ghosts look around.*

Clyde: Whoa-hoo-hoo nelly! *wolf-whistles*

Inky: What a looker! Oi, Blinky, whaddya say?

Blinky: I’m not sure about this, guys. She sure looks a lot like-

Pit: Y'all care to “practize” with me for the square dancin’ tomorrow?

Inky: Delighted, ma'am.

Clyde: Same, likewise, I’m sure, ma'am.

Inky: *growls seductively*

Blinky: Uh…

Pinky: I wanna try square dancing, too! Can we go? Please please pleeeease?

Blinky: Okay, fine. Fine! *sighs* This won’t end well.

*The ghosts file into the ballroom after Pit, who stops next to a jukebox.*

Pit: Oh, uh, pardon me. One of you gents got a spare heart so as I can juice up the jukebox?

Clyde: Here you is. *passes Pit a Hyrulian Heart Piece*

Inky: Ma'am. *passes Pit the Heart Locket from Undertale*

Pit: Thanks just all to pieces. Spiral Mountain trio, comin’ right up!

*As soon as the jukebox receives its currency, it projects holograms of Banjo, Kazooie, and Tooty, who start playing their respective instruments.*

Banjo hologram: Let’s all Square Dance! Places all! Bow to your corner, bow to your own!

*they all do so*

Banjo hologram:

Three hands up and round you go, / break it up with a dosey do! Chicken in the bread pan kickin’ out dough. / Skip to ma Lou, my darling!

The old lady out, you pretty little thing, / promenade around the ring! Big foot up and little foot down, / make that big foot jar the ground!

Lady step back and two gents in, / back you go and forward again! Step right up with an elbow swing. / Skip to ma Lou, my darling!

Allemande left with the old left hand, / follow through with a right-left grand. Meet your honey with a great big smile, / promenade Eekum Bokum style!

*Pit has shifted away from the ghosts, who are now dancing gleefully. He whips out his violin from his appearnce in Tetris for the NES, and then throws off his toga and wig, puts on a country straw hat, and unplugs the jukebox in that order, before he starts playing said violin like a fiddle.*

Pit:

Promenade across the floor, / sashay right on out the door! Out the door and into the glade, / and everybody promenade!

*The ghosts dance right out the door and into the courtyard with Pit in tow, still playing his violin.*

Pit:

Step right up, you’re doing fine, / I’ll pull your trail, you pull mine! Yank it again like you did before, / break it up with a tug o'war!

*The ghosts immediately start yanking at each others’ ghostly tail thingies. They’re nearing a ledge overlooking a river, until Pit kicks them in.*

Pit:

Now into the brook and fish for the trout, / dive right in and splash about! Trout, trout, pretty little trout, / one more splash and come right out!

*The ghosts splash around while Magikarp and Arrokuda jump around around them. They then come out soaking wet.*

Pit:

Shake like a hound dog, shake again, / wallow around in the ol’ pig pen! Wallow some more, y'all know how, / roll around like an ol’ fat sow!

*The ghosts have shaken off the water, but now jump into a nearby pen full of mud, where they roll around until they look like brown floating blobs.*

Pit:

Allemande left with your left hand, / follow through with a right-left grand! Now leave your partner, the dirty ol’ thing, / follow through with an elbow swing!

*The ghosts have all begun dancing with a group of Piloswine who have been lounging in the mud with them. Then they realize what they’re doing and jump out, preparing to lunge at a still-fiddling Pit, who steps up to a pile of Home Run Bats and kicks a few in their direction.*

Pit:

Grab a bat and hold it tight, / womp your partner with all your might! Hit him in the chin, hit him in the head, / hit him again, that critter ain’t dead!

*The ghosts have begun beating each other up with the Home Run Bats.*

Pit:

Womp him low and womp him high, / stick your finger in his eye! Pretty little rhythm, pretty little sound, / bang your heads against the ground!

*The ghosts are now threatening to take the Home Run Bats to Pit, who is now standing in front of the black mage packing machine from Final Fantasy IX.*

Pit:

Promenade all around the room, / promenade like a bride and groom! Open up the door and step right in, / close the door and into a spin!

*The ghosts lunge at Pit, who sidesteps them so they fall into the packing machine.*

Pit:

Whirl, whirl, twist and twirl, / jump all round like a flyin’ squirrel! Now don’t you cuss and don’t you swear, / just come right out and form a square!

*Four boxes are spat out by the packing machine, and the ghosts burst out with murderous rage and begin chasing Pit again.*

Pit:

Now right hand over and left hand under, / both join hands and run like thunder! Over the hill and over the dale, / duck your head and lift your tail!

*He passes by a large blinking ball, and as all the ghosts pass through they all turn blue with pink eyes and mouths. Just then, Pit skids to a halt, and there’s Pac-Man standing next to him.*

Pit:

Don’t you stray and don’t you roam, / turn around and promenade home! Corn in the crib pen, wheat in the sack, / turn your partner and promenade back!

*The ghosts stop, turn around, and then turn around AGAIN and promenade right into Pac-Man’s waiting mouth. He then spits out four pairs of eyes which have now been run absolutely ragged.*

Pit: And now you’re home. Bow to your partner. Bow to the gent across the hall.

*The ghost-eyes bow to each other, and then flop onto the ground in exhaustion.*

Pit: And that is all! *plays the last few notes of the song*

Pit: You were right. That was fun!

Pac-Man: The real fun will start once they start wondering how you got that fiddle in the first place.

Pit: For the last time, Pac… It’s a violin!

[pynkhues]

I hope you post your c & c Christmas fic! I am having a horrible Christmas alone bc of covid 19 and could use a little cheering up.

I’m so sorry you had a horrible Christmas alone, anon! And I know this is a few days late and a few dollars short, but I hope the first scene (and it’s a doozy of a scene at 3k words haha) from it helps? 

I’m trying to finish the fic now, so fingers crossed I have it all up by tomorrow. It’s ended up being really long, haha, so hopefully people still want a monster Christmas fic four days after Christmas! 😊

“No.”

And damn, if Rio doesn’t pop an eyebrow at that.

“No?”

The question is enough to make Jane’s bottom lip wobble as she rocks in her galoshes, the sound of her wet socks squelching inside them making somethin’ in Rio’s head twitch, because shit – he’d tried to get her out of them at the back door. Tried to pick her up and cart her upstairs to the tub, ready to wash the snow Kenny had shoved down the back of her parka off, but she hadn’t wanted that neither. Had been content to dart beneath his arm the second he’d lugged Marcus up with his other; even more content to leave a trail of sludgy footprints behind her through the kitchen like she wanted him to follow, and he hadn’t exactly.

Or y’know, he had until she’d dashed past him again and he’d gotten a hand into the hood of her jacket.

“So you don’t want to get in there with him, huh?” Rio asks now, jerking his head back to where Marcus is already sprawled out in the tub, fuckin’ blissed out, his skinny arms slung over the rim and his body submerged in the steamy, sudsy water ‘til he looks like some eight-year-old mafia don. It’d make Rio grin – does – until he meets Jane’s look again, her bottom lip still wobbling as she furiously shakes her head, her rabbit beanie slipping down her icy wet hair.

Rio frowns.

“You ain’t cold?”

And shit, he knows she is.

Knows it because the second he’d pulled up to Glenvale Elementary School today to pick ‘em up, she’d been cold. A last-day-of-school snowball fight havin’ ballooned out until the faculty were left frantically trying to dry off forty shivering kids, and whatever, Rio had thought. It was good for them. Work hard, play hard gotta start somewhere, and he’d plucked Jane and Marcus’ tooth-chattering selves out of the fray and blast the car heaters the whole way home, but the second they’d tumbled out of the car, Kenny had thrown a snowball himself, and a fresh fight had begun.

And okay, maybe he should’ve stopped it sooner than he did, but he had Mick on call and the last drops to organise before the holidays, because apparently people buyin’ up supplies of prescription drugs as gifts for sick family members is a straight up thing (and call Rio Father Christmas, because damn if he ain’t deliverin’ on the fuckin’ miracle. Ain’t even price gouging, although that’s more because Elizabeth had turned a particular shade of purple at the prospect and he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he’d bloated prices, but - - damn, it would’ve put at least two of the kids through college.)

Point is, maybe he meant to pull ‘em in after half an hour, but by the time he finally got back outside it’d been close to two full hours and the kids were all red-nosed and tremblin’, their clothes soaked through, the evening just starting to yawn above them to swallow the last of the light whole.

“No,” Jane repeats now, sullen this time, and Rio feels his nostrils flare in irritation as he stares back down at her. At least the room is warm enough, he thinks, watching the steam curl the ends of her wet hair, the ebb of the heating warping the air as it pours from the floor vents. The kids’ bathroom is one of the rooms they’ve refit over the last year – a pet project of Elizabeth’s that Rio had found himself involved in, mostly because he almost got as much of a thrill out of inventing organisational systems as she did. The big, low white tub set back against the wall with polka dotted wallpaper above it, gold light fittings and a long, deep blue vanity that had as much storage as they could ever need. Still – it didn’t stop one of Emma’s bikini’d Barbie’s and a fuckin’ deluge of rubber sea animals from taking up space around the room.

“I’m a grown up,” Jane adds, sniffing wetly, pulling his attention back, and Rio’s second eyebrow raises to meet his first. “Grown ups don’t have baths with boys.”

“Om has baths with daddy,” Marcus says helpfully from the tub, and Rio gestures back at him, taking in the way Jane just huffs out a breath and stomps her little foot against the white honeycomb tiles and it figures, Rio thinks, that one of Elizabeth’s kids would end up with the fuckin’ stubborn powerball in that genetic lottery.

Figures it’d be Jane too.

“That’s different, they have to share everything because they’re a mommy and an od.”

At least the others ain’t this stubborn, he reminds himself, scrubbing a hand back over his head. At least he’d been able to pile ‘em up with towels and sweats and direct them to the downstairs bathroom while he handled Jane and Marcus, but then again - -

He trains his ears to hear ‘em – Emma and Danny’s giggles sounding through the floor beneath his feet, loud even over the downpour of the shower, and then:

The flush of a toilet.

Kenny screams.

Right.

Lotta other balls in that genetic lottery too though, huh?

He exhales sharply.

“A’ight,” he says, looking back down at Jane’s pink little face. “You don’t gotta share a bath since you’re all grown, but you can’t stay in your wet clothes.”

And it’s weird then – the look that Jane levels him with. Somethin’ too hard in the set to her mouth and too open in her wide green eyes, and Rio’s frown deepens, brow furrowing, because there’s somethin’ in that look that tells him this ain’t entirely just about stubbornness, when suddenly Marcus chimes in from the tub.

“Soup.”

And shit, no, they’re havin’ pizza for dinner – Rio’s already ordered it – but before he can say as much, Jane’s nose is wrinkling up and she’s rolling those too wide eyes and that hard set to her mouth is softening, and huh, Rio thinks. They ain’t talking about dinner either.

“Soup doesn’t have bubbles, Marcus.”

“This one does!” he tells her easily, and Rio turns to watch his son glide his hands through the bathwater, catching soapsuds, a too-innocent grin on his face. “It’s an alien soup. Like - - like from Neptune. I got abducted! I’m gonna get eaten! Help me, Officer Janey!!”

With that, he slides down into the water, flails his skinny legs up above the surface, fake yelling, and Rio huffs, exasperated as water spills over the top of the tub, but can’t quite hide the twitch at his lips when he sees Jane’s look tear – the urge to play too already warring on her face as she steps closer.

“No, Marcus! We can play later, not - - ”

“Help!! Hel - - blergh.”

Marcus splutters around a mouthful of soapsuds, and Rio does roll his eyes this time, grabbing a washcloth from the sink to wipe his son’s face.

“You gonna help him, Officer Janey?” he asks, glancing back from Marcus and they can all see Jane’s resolve weakening. She shifts her weight, puffs out her cheeks, and then, just like that, she caves.

“Okay, Sir Marcus, I’ll get you home for Christmas.”

And thank fuck for that, Rio thinks, keeping his expression carefully in check as Marcus grins in delight, squirming back up the side of the tub to make room for her. It only takes a minute for her to peel off her jacket, leaking freezing water everywhere in the process, and Rio edges forwards, starting to help her when his cell phone buzzes in the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls it out, checks the number, and hooks it under his ear as he crouches down beside Jane.

“’ey,” he says, and immediately he’s met with a wave of sound from the chaos of the mall – the tinny, tinkling melodies of Christmas songs and the thrum of shoppers, the distant sounds of static announcements and the too-close bray of Annie’s laugh, but it’s Elizabeth who replies, her voice clear and clean as a bell.

“Hi. Did we decide on the flatware set for your sister in the end? They’ve got one on sale here at this cute little kitchen place, and - - ”

Rio sighs, annoyance sparking at the fraying edges of his patience. He lifts up Jane’s leg as she dangles herself over the edge of the tub, pulling off one of her galoshes, and then the other, cringing when her soaked pink socks settle back on the floor, leaving a smear of dirty water on the tiles.

“We decided no, mami,” he tells Elizabeth over the line, pulling off Jane’s socks in one rough motion as Jane makes a grab for a rubber fish. “We already got her the - - ”

“Towels, I know, but she didn’t have enough forks for us when we were there last week, and if that’s going to be a regular thing now, I really think we should get her the extra flatware set.”

And shit, Rio thinks, moving to kneel so he can peel off Jane’s sopping wet sweater and shirt as she kicks off her jeans and undies, it figures.

It figures because Elizabeth’s been pressed about Carmen’s place since Carmen and Matt finally separated back in August, splittin’ up their assets and sellin’ the house. It had been a long time comin’, and Rio couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased about it – after all, him and Carmen hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but shit, she was his sister and she was a boss bitch, and Matt had always been the sort of belly crawlin’ fuck who’d soured at any woman who was more of one than him.

Anyway, it didn’t take all that much to figure out that Elizabeth was watchin’ Carmen’s marriage dissolve and her new life as a single mom with the sort of projecting fixation that - - shit - - just dredged up baggage.

Still, it was kind of fuckin’ funny too to watch Elizabeth try to help Carmen in the way she wouldn’t let anyone do for her back when she finally called it with her own dumbass ex.

“Yeah, those towels weren’t cheap,” Rio says into the phone, standing up and grabbing Jane underneath her icy arms to swing her into the hot water beside Marcus, letting her eyes slip shut briefly when Jane kicks a fresh wave of hot water onto the floor of the bathroom.

“Neither is cooking dinner for seven extra people.”

Grabbing his cell properly now that Jane’s in the tub, Rio drops his free arm down, grabbing Jane and Marcus’ wet clothes off the floor and striding out of the room, down the stairs and beelining for the laundry. He grins, pleased, when he sees Emma’s already put her own snow clothes in the washing machine, even if she’s managed to spill washing powder all over the floor in the process of it.

“One thing,” he sing-songs over the bustle of the mall behind Elizabeth’s voice. “Everyone’s gettin’ one thing. If you want to get Carmen the flatware set, that’s two things.”

And he can’t even see her, but he can feel Elizabeth bristle down the line.

“I might not be as quick with the books as you, but I do know basic math, thank you.”

Which - - shit, not what he meant. He grabs a rag out of the laundry cabinet, dropping down to wipe up the powder.

“Nah, you ain’t hearin’ me. I know you, Elizabeth. You get Carmen two things, you gettin’ everyone two things – Aida, my mom, your sister, your friend – we ain’t doin’ that this year. We decided that.”

Vaguely he can hear her sister laugh over the line again, and then Ruby say:

What about…

“No, I think she has one of those already,” Elizabeth replies, and Rio sighs, tossing the rag into the washing machine with the kids’ clothes. Vaguely, he can hear footsteps down the hall behind him, Jane and Marcus still playing in the tub, the shower a few rooms up, and he still has some business calls to make tonight, and damn, weren’t they going to figure out which presents were from Santa and which were from them later too? He checks his watch and frowns.  

“Elizabeth, what time you comin’ home?”

“Soon,” she tells him quickly, then, to one of the others: “No, that’s too much.”

Suddenly, a cold little hand grabs his wrist, and Rio glances down to see Emma clutching at it, already decked out in her pink fleecy sweats and rainbow fuzzy unicorn slippers, which’d be fine if her hair wasn’t hanging wet, soaking into the back of her dressing gown. He frowns, pushes his cell between his shoulder and head again to pull a hair elastic off his wrist and tie her hair back up off her neck.

“Od, can we watch Frozen tonight?”

And Rio briefly blanches at that, but grunts in affirmation, letting her go only for Emma to come back and cling to his hand again, splaying his fingers so she can fit her own between his. He blinks down at her curiously, picking up his cell again with his other hand, because damn, it ain’t like she’s never held his hand before – she’s always been a touchy kid – but he figured she’d be out of sight the second he told her she could put Frozen on. Like she’s seen the look on his face, she squeezes his hand and sidles closer until she’s practically on top of his leg, and so Rio crouches down instead, lugging her up and carrying her out of the laundry and over to the living room, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she clings to his side.

“Annie, stop it,” Elizabeth says, annoyance growing in her tone, and Rio rolls his eyes, depositing Emma on the couch, and okay, maybe the kid’s just tired, he thinks, watching as she nestles back in the cushions, her big blue eyes only half-lidded.

He flicks on the TV while Elizabeth babbles to Annie and Ruby in his ear, like she’s half-forgotten to hang-up, and he’s about to do it himself instead when he hears the name Dean pop outta Annie’s mouth, which - -

Fuck that.

His jaw tightens, loosens, tightens again.

“Thought we weren’t doin’ all of that this year,” he hums, tryin’ to keep his voice light as he loads up Frozen on Disney+ and grabs one of the blankets to toss over Emma, because wasn’t that dumbass ex of hers off in Nevada this year with his new girl’s family?

“What?”

And sure, play dumb, baby, Rio thinks, striding out of the room as Emma wriggles down in the blanket. He heads back towards the corridor, hearing Jane squeal somewhere upstairs and Marcus laugh as he moves towards the downstairs bathroom.

“Thought we had the place and everyone in it to ourselves.”

“We do,” she tells him quickly, and he can hear her moving herself, walkin’ maybe – her sister’s voice getting further away.

“We ain’t changin’ plans.”

Because fuck – they’re a week out from Christmas, and they had shit on lock this year. Had decided on that together too after the whole mess of last year with Elizabeth having to do the six hour round trip to take the kids to South Haven after Dean’s car had broken down (fuckin’ allegedly, Rio thinks with a snort, because he could smell that bullshit a mile away).

“The plan isn’t changing,” she promises, raising her voice a little to be heard over the roaring opening chords of Last Christmas. “We’re still hosting everyone, and the kids are staying with us, it’s just - - something’s just come up which is - - I mean. It’s really not anything you need to worry about. I’ll tell you when I get home.”

Exhaling harshly, Rio scrubs a hand back over his head again, and shit – if this means Dean’s comin’ again - -

He pauses, distracted suddenly by the sight of Danny bouncing from foot-to-foot outside the bathroom, shaking with cold in his parka and beanie, melted snow dripping from his hair, waiting still for his turn in the bathroom. With a grunt of irritation, Rio strides up the hall, banging heavily on the door only to hear a strained in a minute from Kenny through the crack, and Jesus, Rio thinks.

Teenagers.

He covers the mouthpiece of the phone, glancing down at Danny who just shifts his weight again, snow-pale except for his bright red nose as he stares up at him.

“Use our bathroom,” he tells him, jerking his head upstairs towards his and Elizabeth’s en suite and Danny blinks owlishly back at him, shivering still, and Rio jerks his head in instruction again because it’d be just his luck to have to cart the kid to hospital for hypothermia again.

“Is everything okay there?” Elizabeth asks as someone says is this all today, ma’am?

“Fine,” Rio says shortly, and then, just to annoy her: “I’ll tell you when you get home, yeah?”

And it works, if her huff is anything to go by, and then when he hears cash or card? his lip curls.

“Elizabeth, don’t get the flatware set.”

The last thing he hears before she hangs up is the ring of the cash register.

[morphituu]

Milagro

Chapter 22: Rehearsals 

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 

“Maaaama, mi amore- say mama,” Callie encouraged, her shirt clasped in Leo’s hold and a wide smile clamped around a melting teething chewy. The round, golden eyes locked on Callie still glimmered with unshed tears after waking from a nap following a sharp tooth breaking through his gums, but now his short legs kicked excitedly when she squealed like he after some numbing gel was lathered across his swollen pads.

“Oh my osito,” she sang, giggling when his staticky voice spiked into an excited shriek after she laid him across her chest. With any luck he'd catch the last of his afternoon nap and not completely derail his schedule the night before they left him. With one hand rhythmically patting his bottom in tune with a gentle song she hummed, the nails of her other dragged down his thick stripe of sandy colored locks, thick and tangled as hers always was.

Leo’s sleepy growls wound down to soft grunts, his little mouth pursing when he sucked on his tongue.

Her bottom lip quivered. To think she'd go four days without kissing this face or hearing his voice almost made her call off their already brief honeymoon despite desperately needing the break, not to mention the alone time she so craved from her husband to be. Quickies were fun in the moment, but when she'd have to walk right back out and balance Leo on her hip and a stack of laundry and dishes in the other arm, the yearn for a quiet, post-sex cuddle session resounded loudly in her bones.

“You know we’ll be back, right Leonardo? You won't even notice us you'll have so much fun with abuela y abuelo,” she smiled, recalling all of the toys Oleg had gone out to purchase in preparation for his grandson's extended visit, excitedly sending pictures to Nick every time he found something new.

Callie giggled, her eyes drifting up. She gasped softly, looking down at Leo. “Guess who's back?”

Her door swung open and Leo’s head craned back to find Nick placing their contribution to the dinner at her feet, a smile spreading across his gummy face immediately.

“What's with those sad eyes?” Nick pouted, reaching for Leo.

“His tooth broke through,” she handed him over, their son rubbing his tired eyes against Nick’s chest after being leaned into the crook of his beefy arm. Nick groaned, rubbing Leo’s back.

“I feel bad we're taking off right when this starts,”

“Me too,” Callie sighed, pushing her messy hair back from her face. “I keep rethinking it,”

Nick’s head lifted with a pout. “You don't wanna go anymore then?”

She exhaled loudly, shaking her head. “I really wanna go but I don't think the guilt will go away so I just gotta suck it up and deal with it,”

“We’ll only be a few hours away,” he reassured, a comforting squeeze left on her knee before he carried Leo to the backseat. Nick wiggled his face between Leo’s round cheek and shoulder to elicit bubbly giggles, his affections unyielding even after his son was safely strapped in his seat again, not until Callie reminded him that they were needed elsewhere.

A final squish of his cheeks, and Nick was off to the drivers seat again.

“Let’s do this,” he chimed, the dark clubmasters hiding the excited glint in his yellow eyes.

The weather was ideal for the windows to stay down, a soft breeze drifting through the cab that neither worried about overwhelming Leo as long as the traffic stayed this slow, but neither minded that, either. Nothing- not even that Callie’s dress had been delivered with a rip in the seam, could dampen their moods that day.

For weeks, more notably the sleepless nights they'd planned this and endless trial and error from music to food to seating, keeping enough excitement alive until their day came, and through rejections from churches that deemed their union unholy to now having a backyard wedding at his parents that a shocking number of family wasn't arriving to, they were here, the day before their wedding, and Callie couldn't shake the warmth that had held in her cheeks all day.

The butterflies fluttered about her stomach, bubbling in her throat when she tried to speak. As usual he held her hand while they drove, but now more than ever he toyed with her singular ring that would soon have it’s pair. When they stood in line to pick up Leo’s fitted outfit, he brought her decorated hand up to his lips to kiss shamelessly before the humans that rolled their eyes in disgust, further stirring the churning excitement before she leaned into his side to hide her blush.

Callie’s head landed against his arm rested over the center console, his big hand landing on her leg. Nick kissed her head while he drove, his thumb tracing the supple skin of her freckled thigh.

Callie grinned then. “I hope this song plays tomorrow,” she noted the raunchy beat bumping softly through the speakers.

Nick snorted. “Someone's uncle is gonna grind on someone's aunt,”

She giggled harmoniously, her face rotating in to hide against his bicep. Nick egged her on, the dirty comments flushing her cheeks and leaving her breathless as they drove leisurely along the backroads. At red lights he made it a point to steal kisses, his hand leaving the steering wheel to hold her jaw when a taste of her tongue became too tempting to refuse. They were honked at a few times, but Nick blew them off, telling his pretty fiancée “this is why we should've put the cans on the truck today”.

Their bantering settled enough to let silence pass between them, listening to Leo babble against his crinkly blanket or exclaim when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

“Did Ward tell you what you guys are doing tonight?” she asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder when it whipped before her face.

“He won’t even give me a hint,” Nick huffed, endlessly worried they’d end up at a strip bar. “What about Rosie?”

“Just a girls night at her house,” she shrugged, hiding her excitement. A night to kick back with her feet up and gossip? With unproblematic people? It’s fucking paradise, she’d clarified to Nick when he was confused as to why bachelorette parties weren’t rambunctious like the mens. “I’m not drinking until the reception though,”

“Is it the Orkish champagne?”

She moaned, her eyes closing as saliva pooled in her mouth. “Forget the food, just hand me another glass of it when mine is empty,”

“One glass will have you on your ass, mama,” he reminded, peeking at her from over his clubmasters.

“Good thing my husband will be there to carry me away from the judging eyes of the public,” she said, her chin balancing on his shoulder as he pulled into his parents' driveway. The street was lined with their guests, the chatter from the backyard heard over their engine.

“Only because my wife is the fairest in all of LA,”

She pouted. “Just LA?”

“Who even matters outside of LA?” he asked.

“You’re right.” She leaned in for a quick kiss.

The pair went about gathering Leo from his seat and his numerous bags they’d store tonight in preparation for the following day, including a bouncer and swing. He was excited as ever when Callie lifted him from behind the buckles, the teething toy in his grasp. It took only three months for Leo to reach a girth that Callie could carry on her hip like a six month old, his head unwaveringly steady and held upright as he learned the world around him. Their pediatrician warned he’d fly through milestones faster than they could record, so when Leo started angrily gnawing on their hands and crying through the night, it took them some time to figure out he was simply teething when they’d normally not expect it until later. Moments were cherished with greater excitement after they realized how quickly Leo was growing, and how brief this baby stage would be.

It wasn’t until they’d at last received the results of his genetics test were they able to find some peace of mind knowing when he’d hit a year, this rapid aging would slow drastically.

Being seventy-six percent Orc meant doctors felt confident leaning towards the likelihood that Leo’s growth would match that of a full-blooded one, but the moments remained bittersweet for the parents. In the blink of an eye Leo went from being a wiggling newborn to a hefty calf able to sit up on his own and mimic their mouths when they spoke to him.

His yellow eyes tracked and narrow in on objects he wanted, his colored hands able to pick items, and Nick’s ear was always on the menu of items he loved to gnaw on.

At the call of his name he’d turn his head, and a smile would grace his lips when it was either of his parents. Callie would walk from corner to corner with him between her feet, his grasp tight around her fingers and his feet dragging less everyday he built up the muscles of his strong legs. When he’d be done from such an exerting exercise, a frown up at Callie would signal his reluctance to waddle any farther.

The pouts and angry chuffs were Nick’s favorite. He’d gnaw Leo’s thighs and roll him side to side just to see his little face snarl, a sharp cry rattling in his throat before he’d clamp onto Nick’s arm. Now that the sharp fangs were coming in, he found instigating a fight with his vicious little boy wasn’t in his best interest. It had only taken a few times for Leo to learn if he laid over his dad’s head, he was further defenseless, including those ears.

“Ah!” Leo exclaimed, reaching over Callie’s shoulder towards Nick. “Ahh!” he cracked again, looking at Callie.

“He’s comin’, don’t worry,” she assured, his chuff tickling her ear.

The door was cracked open upon walking up to it, and inside the furniture was already being moved around to create more space to linger around in.

“Late to her own rehearsal!” came Oleg’s booming voice, strutting in false intimidation from the hallway, but his angry scowl melted into a wide smile once Leo recognized him and reached.

“Is everyone here?”

“The booze went quickly,” he teased, walking toward the back of the house with Leo excitedly squealing in his grandpa’s arms.

“That’s what happens when you get Orcs and Mexicans together,” Nick commented, grunting his way in with all the bags slung across his arms and shoulders.

“They didn’t drink the champagne, did they?” Callie frantically asked, following Oleg and leaving Nick to topple over with Leo’s luggage.

Nick and Ward both sipped their beers alongside Matuk and Sergey, the summer sun having been unbearable until Dinara silenced the mens whining and dished out the cold drinks. But the sun still kept glaring down at them even as it drew near sunset, their shirts sticking to their skin and hunger growing. Dura had been the only one to be blessed with a chair at the front, her belly near bursting as her due date approached.

“Pay attention,” Dura hissed at Sergey, fanning her face with her sun hat.

“All I do is stand here-” he hissed back, silencing when Ward elbowed him.

“Can you shut the fuck up she’s about to come down,” Ward growled, jabbing his hand in the direction of the house.

“We’ve done this eight times, why do we need to be quiet?”

“He’s right, there’s no point,” Nick answered loudly, sipping his beer.

Ward glared at him in disbelief. “At your own rehearsal?”

“Look, they’re talking,” he pointed to Callie’s mom who sat beside Dyani and Joaquin, Leo and his mother coming to join them once she’d finished walking down the mock isle.

“Okay music, yada yada everyone stands, then Callie,” Dinara called, tip-toeing around the line of bridesmaids to stand beside Nick at the front.

It was just the rehearsal, and there was nothing to match how spectacular and dreamy it would be the following day, but Nick still smiled watching her walk down like that, a glowing smile on her face and hanging onto her father's arm. Nick tossed a kiss to her before she was even there, tipping his bottle back over his lips to hide a nervous smile when she winked at him.

For the eighth time, Nick shook Diego’s hand and accompanied Callie back to their spot at the front, his actions growing clumsier with every round.

“Pre-gaming?” she asked, smiling at Nick’s loose nod. She was sure his eyes were half-lidded behind his sunglasses.

“Okay dearly beloved and all that, they exchange vows, beads, rings and kiss,” Dinara recited from the front with Leo still in her arms, wiggling towards Nick when he made faces at him. He stopped only to peck Callie sweetly, snatching his son from his mother's arms. “And we’re done,”

There was a collective sigh of approval from everyone placed about in the wide yard, all of which were starved for the cool drinks and savory dinner laid out under the shade of the patio.

Sergey stumbled to Dura’s side and only laughed when she scolded him for already drinking himself into a cloud, but Callie was there to loop her arm around the expectant mother’s and assist in her waddle across the yard. Nick and Ward picked Sergey back up, leaving hard slaps on his back while they teased him over being a lightweight.

“I hope Morn feels better by tomorrow,” Callie pouted, feeling her friend's absence.

“She kicks shit fast, she’ll be good,” Ward answered. It was useless denying they’d become quite cozy with one another, especially when Nick had stopped by unexpectedly to find her wandering around Daryl’s house in his shirt. It was a sensitive topic, but Callie thought it sweet how lovingly he spoke of Morn when she wasn’t around. There was always the hint of a longing sigh somewhere in his words, a hardened pout pushing his mustache up.

“Was it a stomach bug? Daryl wasn’t feeling too good either,” Rosie noted, following her ear into their conversation.

“Was Dejza sick too?”

“Yeah I think that’s where she got the bug from. Grandparents wanted to see her,” Ward explained, finding a spot beside Nick once they all came up to the table. Leo perched on Nick’s thigh, reaching over to tap Callie’s arm so she’d talk to him as the others found their seats. The chatter of Callie and Nick’s chosen family was lively among their friends, the last minute preparations or concerns rising into question and then settling quickly. Food was passed through mouths as fast as the words, the plates filling just to empty minutes later for seconds and thirds. The men of Nick’s bachelor party were ordered to lay off the beer and instead fill up on food before their night of celebration and farewell, waving off their disapproving groans and wails.

By the time they were all dug into their meals, Leo was drifting in Nick’s arms with a bottle balanced on his chest, at last catching a nap to soothe away the throbbing in his gums they’d managed to mostly keep at bay all day with the chaos swarming around them.

When Leo spat out the bottle and rubbed his face, Nick took a final bite of the crispy pork ribs to lean back in his chair and cradle his son closer to his chest, a wide palm patting his bottom. Soft chuffs were the last of Leo’s attempts at consciousness before Nick’s purring did him in, his big eyes finally sliding shut.

Nick was lost staring at his son when Ward suddenly came into view, his ear almost close enough to press against his shoulder.

Ward snapped up, mild disbelief coloring his expressions. “Are you… vibrating?”

Callie laughed out loud, covering her mouth filled with food.

“Does Morn not purr?” Nick asked, Ward leaning away from him.

“P-purring? Y’all… purr?” he looked up hesitantly at the other Orcs around him who were unphased by his discovery.

“Does Morn really not?”

“No! I think I’d know if I heard somethin’ like that!” Ward exclaimed, returning to his meal with a shudder.

“I bet she does n’ it just puts you to sleep,” Sergey added, talking around a corn on the cob.

Daryl looked back to Nick. “Sophia always told me she reminded her of a cat and I thought it was cuz of the ears n’ shit,”

The table chuckled at that, their laughter heightening when Daryl again leaned into Nick’s chest to listen to the rumbles, even placing a hand flat on him to make sure it wasn’t some elaborate prank. The fervent manner in which everyone devoured the food calmed into small pickings here and there and the low rumble of chatter filling the backyard, everyone in their separate conversations or stories until Dinara pulled Nick's attention away from Callie and Rosie who spoke so fast, it only sounded like clicking.

“Ukmall, you’ll need to be here before eight to get Leo,” she informed, and his brows furrowed.

“So early?” he groaned, having fully expected a few hours to sleep off a hangover.

“Callie needs to get her hair done. The fumes are bad for him,” she scolded, and he looked back to his bride.

“You’re changing your hair?” he questioned with big eyes.

“Just a little bit,” she smiled, internally screaming. She’d come to this decision to alter her hair after talking herself out of going entirely blonde despite her curiosity for years pulling her the other direction, but now she wondered if he’d even notice.

“I guess I can get him,” he griped, leaning down to kiss Leo when Callie and his mother sucked their teeth in discontent.

“What time are people arriving?” Callie asked around Nick.

“Three, so we have a lot to do and a lot of cooking before people start showing up. That being said,” she grunted, standing at the head of the table with her glass of sweet tea raised. “I’d like to propose a toast and a thanks,”

Everyone hushed, reaching for their variety of drinks to hold up.

“We want to extend our thanks to Callie’s family who have graciously accepted us in, not to mention our son who came with a reputation,” she gestured at Nick, the table chuckling. “To everyone who’s helped and put up with my screaming,” she admitted to bashfully. “To my son, who I knew would be the father his own raised him to be, and now the husband I always knew he could be,” she smiled lovingly at Nick, his own grin goofy and adoring. Callie rubbed his arm, squeezing his wrist affectionately.

“And to Callie,” she cleared her throat, raising her glass. Callie’s smile dropped when she looked up, her anxiousness kicking into high gear. “It’s because of you my son smiled again, and it’s with your help he’s shown that beautiful baby in his arms such love. You weren’t only a gift in his life, but ours too, and no matter the paths you both might take from here on out, you’ll always have a place in our family. Cheeruk, mausan daughavas. Lat've bleukukun avhiuk famipak.” She finalized, her glass raised and Oleg following suit.

“I’d like to also say something,” Diego stood creakily, his age at last catching up to him after decades of back breaking work. He smoothed his hand down his church shirt, lifting his glass. “Mija, you haven’t always had the best of luck when it came to men, and to be honest I would’ve pulled my hair out if you had brought home another white boy,” he chuckled, the table following suit as Callie hid her face in despair. “But now I can rest easier at night knowing you have a man I would’ve hand-picked for you specially,” he tipped his head at Nick, the orc nodding once in return even though he was inwardly elated.

“I’m sorry the ones you were told growing up were your family didn’t make it here, but it’s their loss, cariña. If they can’t grow as much as you, let them leave. You’ve always been better than them. Nick,” he turned, startling his daughter’s groom.

“Thank you. You’re the standard I raised my daughters to expect, so thank you for taking care of her and Leonardo. I only want forever for you two.” He finished, his free hand resting on Luciana’s shoulder as she looked on at her daughter with watery eyes.

“I second that!” Rosie declared, Santi’s glass following his sister only to spill across the table's surface and onto her plate.

Her cheeks were hidden in her palms when they toasted, Dinara’s words whispered in translation into her ear by Nick after drinking to their parents speeches. He kissed her flushed cheek, promising the sincerity of her words. Her eyes wandered while Nick adored her secretly, watching their parents take turns hugging and speaking with smiles plastered across their faces. It helped ease some of the burns she’d been dealt when her family started RSVPing just to say they wouldn’t attend, and she wondered how much of it was because of Leo and how much was because of their choice to marry. Either way, she knew now who to keep up with.

The couple was dragged from their steamy bubble of secret kisses and whispers when Ward elbowed Nick insistently until he turned, motioning his head toward the door, but his hairless brows drew together.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, noting Ward’s lighter complexion.

He shook his head, waving his hand. “Drank too much,”

“They took our drinks-”

“Man let’s go!”

Nick turned back to Callie, a loose smile curling her lips.

“Is it time?” she asked, and he nodded, leaning in for another lengthy kiss. “If I get a call from Jake that one of his girls is shaking their asses in your face I’m gonna make sure you can’t make anymore babies,” she warned quietly, trying not to laugh when he gagged.

“I hid a nanny cam in the house so if I see a male stripper shoving his junk in your face I’m gonna throw you in the ocean,” Nick cracked back.

“I can’t swim!” she giggled, trying to frown.

“Yeah, you’ve been warned,” he kissed her before she could respond. “I love you, have a good night and be safe,”

“You be good,” she reminded, pursing her lips for another kiss before he lowered Leo into her arms and smooched him goodbye. “No tequila,”

He sucked air through his teeth, pointing at her. “I can’t promise that,” and he was off, following the others into the house after kissing his mom on the head. They grew rowdy once separated from their lovers except Matuk who was as stoic as ever, and they could be heard causing a commotion all the way to the cars until they were off.

“Ten bucks says they don’t make it past midnight,” Rosie announced.

“Make it twenty,” Oleg raised his beer, his bright smile tightening when Dinara elbowed him in the side before making her way over to Callie as the rest of their guests found separate conversations to delve into.

“Callie, I’d like to show you something we picked up today,” she said under her breath, tugging on her elbow.

“Oh?” she piped, tapping Rosie’s shoulder so she could deposit her hefty son into her arms. Rosie doted over him lovingly, endless kisses pressed into his cheeks as he was roused from his nap, but that would be her problem, now. By the time Leo was awake and gnawing angrily into his tia’s cheeks in retaliation, Dinara had led Callie into her room where the bed was lined with pressed and covered clothing, some decorations and linens hung over the small bench at the end. Callie wandered, her hands gravitating towards the colorful flowers protected in plastic boxes.

“Here, look,” Dinara called from the desk at the corner of the room.

The small lamp was flipped on when Callie was at her side, watching as she lifted the lid from a silver box carefully, but upon removing the satin material protecting whatever was underneath, her hands moved even more gingerly than before until a shining, silver plate looked up at them. Orkish letters were carved deep into its face, but the polished grooves were clean, elegant.

“Marriage Armor, it’s called. The bride wears the plate with her new name upon her back and the groom wears the bride's zodiac on his shoulders and chest,” she explained, a smaller pouch that she had in the top drawer of the desk emptying into Callie’s palm. The charms were attached to thin, dainty chains, and carved from a deep, grey metal shaped into bull heads.

Callie smiled, studying their details. “Nick will wear these?”

“Mhm. You’ll both wear the bracelets that are exchanged, but those are kept for the day of. Right now we need to get this on you to make sure it fits,” she explained, opening the pouch so Callie could deposit the charms back inside.

The ‘armor’ had length to it she at first couldn’t see between the satin covers. Her own sparkling chains braided across the shoulders as one long, jeweled piece ran the length of her back, stretching from the plate that spelled Jakoby. When Dinara had it balanced on her shoulders so she could clasp it at her front, she saw where the chains came together into the shape of the Taurus symbol. With delicacy she touched the pieces on her shoulders and at the center of her chest while it was adjusted at her back, her smile beaming. It was heavy- this was definitely some special mineral, for she’d never seen one of such weight be polished finely enough to catch even the smallest glimmer of these dim lights.

“Tomorrow you’ll glow during that sunset,” Dinara smiled, tugging the chains at either side of her shoulders. “Poor Nick will be so blindsided we might have to give his men a heads up,”

They giggled, Callie’s smile wavering when Dinara held her hands tightly, staring at her with glossy eyes. “These plates are traditional. A male’s mother hands them down to his bride if she approves, so these should have come from my own mother in law, but they didn’t,”

Callie’s smile fell. “What?”

“Oleg’s mother hates me. She wanted her boy to have the smiling, waxy wife who pops babies out like rats. So I had these made the day before we were married, and I wore them in front of her,” she grinned.

“Reclaimed the name?” Callie smirked.

Dinara nodded. “It’s a good name despite the reputation that came with it when you met my son,”

Callie only hugged her, their arms tightly wound one another in that moment. “Thank you,” she said, giving her a last squeeze before they both wiped their cheeks of any stray tears.

“Well it fits,” she giggled before the two got her out of the intricate chains and back into the sleek box.

“Come on then,” the orc sniffled, turning the light off. “Let’s finish the night.”

↠

Nick’s hand still hadn’t come down from shielding his eyes, but as long as Ward was emptying his dinner and three beers onto Sergey’s lawn, he wasn’t going to even bother glancing at him. His excitement had drained the entire two hours it took to get here, it’s gradual drip starting as soon as they’d left his parents.

“I’m fine, I just drank too fast,” were the kind of things Ward kept saying to excuse his deteriorating, sweating form, but Nick knew he’d heard him heaving into the toilet after calling Morn to ask exactly what she’d come down with. Still, he insisted he was fine the entire duration it took him to shower and change before they headed to Sergey’s next, but by the time they’d gotten in the car, Sergey was starting to look worse for wear, too.

As soon as the car had come to a stop, both of them were falling out, one running into the house and the other making it to the lawn before he lost his composure. Now, Nick was alone in this filthy mess after Matuk had ditched them, but Nick hadn’t expected him to go, really. Bachelor parties didn’t seem like his thing even though there was nothing to celebrate anymore.

“Juh- just gimme a min-” Ward choked, retching loudly.

“For three months I’ve dealt with puke almost daily,” Nick explained calmly, his eyes still hidden.

Daryl coughed.

“You’ve been hyping me up for this for weeks,”

Ward nodded, spit hanging off his bottom lip. “I’no,”

Nick dropped his hand and sighed when thirty seconds had passed- the longest yet- without him heaving, and he couldn't help laugh a little. Ward wasn’t the kind of person to ever show vulnerability even when he was hurt, so seeing him hunched over and whimpering meant taking a few photos should’ve been his top priority, but Nick showed mercy on his friend while the other was lost somewhere in his house likely calling Dura to cry.

“C’mon,” Nick groaned, lifting Ward’s limp body off the ground.

“I need t’go to Morn's,” he grunted, walking unsteadily beside him.

“She can come get you after I drop you off,” Nick used his lighter voice, clearing his throat when he realized what he was doing. “Sit down,”

Ward instead flopped into the backseat, exclaiming when his head smacked the door panel. He continued to wail when Nick used his foot to push his feet in, flinching at how loudly he protested.

“Jesus now I know why Sherri was such a bitch,” Nick mumbled, closing the door before Ward could scream at him. “Stay there,” he knocked against the window, turning towards the house. “Let me go check the other child…”

What started as Nick’s bachelor party he had looked forward to for weeks, had turned into a mini-pandemic between the parties involved- thank god they left his parents house when they did- and had resulted in Nick getting one giant man baby into bed with clean clothes after he was found on his bathroom floor, and cleaning the puke out of Ward’s car when he voided even more of himself while waiting. It hadn’t come without a cold scolding from Nick, demanding to know why he couldn’t have opened the door beside his head if he had enough power to sit up and spray everywhere, but Ward stopped listening when the words became languages he didn’t know.

He hollered and gagged the entire way back to driving Daryl home, bursting from the car as soon as he was parked, but that only meant helping clean this one up too.

After nearly three hours of scrubbing, and gagging, and screaming, Nick sat on Ward’s porch waiting for his Uber, a cold beer in hand. No amount of air freshener or borrowed cologne would mask the raw stench of vomit under his nails and on his clothes. He’d likely throw these away- his nose was too keen to allow back into his closet. Too bad; he really liked this shirt.

Night had at last crept over LA, leaving only a soft orange glow where the sun had slipped from. The night was humid, but cool, and the woven chair he sat in wasn’t half bad.

He looked at his phone, tracking the driver who was coming down the street.

He’d made the move multiple times to message Callie, but he couldn’t bring himself to halt her night, either. If she hadn’t messaged him about anything, that meant no sickness had befallen them either, right? Maybe they’d been lucky to avoid catching it from Daryl. He texted his mom at least, warning of a stomach bug floating around and to keep a closer eye on Leo.

A compact little sedan rolled up, and Nick groaned. Now he had to squeeze into that.

What am I even gonna do all night… he pondered, walking towards the car. He chuckled. Sleep.

Nick slipped in the open door, closing it noisily behind himself before spinning the bolt shut. His palm popped up just as he smacked his inner arm, his keys flying onto the counter and sliding noisily across its surface.

Never, not even after his most grueling days at the academy or after an even more grueling workout did he ever desire a shower and sleep like this moment, kicking his shoes off excitedly.

“Nick?”

He froze, his head half in the cabinets looking for something to take with him. Nick leaned out of the kitchen entry, his ears twitching. Was that…?

“Cal?” he called back warily.

“Maybe,” she called back, and he was off towards the bedroom he hadn’t even noticed had been shut.

The TV was mumbling lowly with her favorite show, but she wasn’t on the bed like he expected. Instead, sitting on the carpet on a folded blanket surrounded by her phone and wires that made up her headphones and charger with a pre-roll between her fingers, he found her sitting beside the cracked sliding glass door so the smoke could wisp out into the night.

Her eyes were just as wide as his, the pair speechless.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, almost afraid to move. Where’s Leo?

“What are you doing here?” she returned, knowing he’d seen the joint in her hold.

“Ward and Sergey-”

“Got sick?” she interrupted, her mouth tightening. He nodded, snorting.

“The girls too?”

She nodded, relaxing a little bit. “I thought you were off already doing the bachelor party thing so I just came home… and left Leo with your parents,”

“Yeah I didn’t call them either,” he confided softly, licking his bottom lip.

“So…” she looked around. Why was this so awkward!?

Nick watched her, leaned back on his hands after pulling a fresh shirt over his scrubbed skin. His head lolled to the side, watching her at last let out the insane breath she’d pulled in. The smoke from this one smelled foul compared to the scented trails from a cartridge, but he wouldn’t speak out against it.

By the time he’d come out of the shower, she had gone through half its length and her eyes were already falling shut. Eight months of sobriety brought her tolerances way down, but this was also the first time in months he hadn’t seen her chewing her inner lips or bouncing her knee. What a wonderful remedy this was, but the stigma attached to it would always leave Nick hesitant.

“That wine is gonna knock you out tomorrow,” he mumbled, grinning when she swatted sleepily at his foot.

“I thought we already agreed you’d catch me,” she reminded, twisting the butt in the ashtray before looking at him.

“Only if I can get really shit faced in San Diego,” he whined, and she laughed.

“Duh, me too,”

He smiled, watching her fidget around on the blanket and fix her hair hanging around her shoulders. She looked down at the ring on her hand, smiling adoringly at its face then clutching her palm to her chest. Soft humming came from her, a soft sway back and forth starting.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, knowing she’d fallen into her dreamy haze.

Callie shrugged, looking up at him. Those balmy eyes were glowing, her cheeks flushing. “I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. It feels like it’s taken decades to get here but it’s only been… pfft three years? And now we have our baby?” she pouted, holding her own face.

“Wow,” Nick mumbled, smiling at her in amusement.

“I shouldn’t have left him there, I need to call your parents-”

“Cal,” he called, catching her frantic eyes. “He’s fine. Take a breath,”

She paused before nodding, sighing instead of taking an appropriate breath.

“I wanna be on whatever planet you’re on,” his words nudged her away from that guilt, a little smile lifting his spirits when he worried about her mental state. Sometimes the break-through anxiety was sneaky.

Her brow perked up, her smile growing devious.

“I can’t,” he reiterated.

“You can,”

“I can’t,”

“It would be out of your system in two days. We’ll be back way after that,” she too reminded him of the miraculous gift that was an Orcs metabolism, but Nick was a faithful worker and had his own, brittling views on the earth-made herb she relied on. “You didn’t get enough that first time,”

“It tastes like ass,” he defended, growing weary when Callie sashayed towards him with the ashtray and lighter pinned under her palm. “It makes my lips dry,”

“I’m not stopping until I hear ‘no’,” she clarified, sitting between his spread legs stretched across the floor and lighting the end of the blunt.

Still, Nick remained silent, watching her suck in her own small hit until the embers were crackling at the end. “I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to,” she told him, sensing his hesitation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. If he liked the buzz from drinking, he was sure he’d like the buzz from smoking, but his encounters in the past not to mention the particular one that had left him in a room full of laughing people during a bad trip left bitter emotions.

But he trusted Callie when reminding him she’d never do such a thing, and she trusted her when she said, “You’ll like it,”

“And I’ve seen how jittery you’ve been,” she noted, patting the hand that had moved to rest on her thigh when he sat forward.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he asked, pinching the shrinking joint between his fingers when she passed it. Then she sat back on her bottom, crossing her legs.

“It’s your decision, baby. I want you to have a good time but not if you’re uncomfortable,” she told him, knowing even in her bombed state that despite Nick accepting this more over the years and his own curiosity growing, pressuring someone wasn’t how you did it.

He rolled it a little bit between his fingers, glancing at her with his critical, yellow eyes.

Ugh, he’s so yummy-

“How long do I hold my breath?” his voice disrupted her thoughts.

“As long as you can,”

Nick sighed, looking at it one last time. “Fuck it, why not,”

Callie’s eyes widened every second he kept inhaling, caught between warning him and possibly making him panic or letting him get one huge drag in instead of coughing through a bunch of little ones, but by the time she decided, he was done. Silent, holding his breath, his eyes already watering when he handed it back.

Without looking she snuffed it out, waiting. “Nick?”

He exhaled loudly, a cloud of smoke blowing around her that she swatted towards the cracked door. The coughing started before he even finished his breath, the next one bubbling up his throat before the previous one finished. His throat and nose burned, and he could’ve sworn he felt his trachea vibrating with every ragged cough.

“Cough as hard as you can, it helps,” she coached, rubbing his back when he rolled onto his stomach to smother his teary eyed face in the carpet.

The ferocity of the coughing rang down his arms, his head throbbing when he managed to sit back up, but with the calming of his body came… warmth.

Nick cleared his throat over and over, wiping the back of his hands across his eyes, but the warmth surrounding his head was making it hard to keep his eyes open. They felt like they could fall into a slumber at any moment, but his mind was as wakeful as ever. He glanced down at his body; why did he feel so… floaty? He cleared his throat again of its scratch while rocking side to side, tensing his arms. Upon lifting his hand, he found he still had full coordination.

He snorted, coughing a little.

“Are you okay?” His head snapped around, finding Callie staring at him in suspense. “How do you feel?”

He inhaled. “I feel like there’s cotton in m’head,” he mumbled, an eye closing. “Like fuzzy cotton,”

She repressed giggles. “But are you okay?”

He nodded loosely, looking around their cluttered room. “It’s like being drunk but sober,”

“I’ve never been able to explain it that well,” Callie grieved, her arms throwing up into the air. “Are you gonna be one of those insightful people when you’re stoned?”

Nick blinked, his eyes reflecting when Callie snapped a photo of him. “Who?” he asked.

“Oh my god.” Callie mumbled.

“Damn,” Nick exclaimed under his breath, his face twisted in horror.

“I know,” Callie nodded, her knee draped over his thigh.

“Could you imagine…?

“No. It’s bad enough we have dragons,” she said against his chest. Every blink felt like eternity.

“Imagine if they did that,” Nick pictured, his body shuddering under hers. “What’s this movie called?”

“Princess Mononoke,”

He scoffed; no way he was remembering that. Nick took a final bite of their ordered dinner, chewing slowly as he stretched to rest the bowl on his nightstand. Maybe this would finally calm his voracious appetite, but as long as Callie kept opening that bag of Doritos, he was hopeless.

“I’m gonna gain thirty pounds by tomorrow,” he mumbled into her hair, the both of them chuckling.

“I never lost my thirty,” she pouted comically, stuffing another chip into her mouth.

“Damn, what that mouth do?” he teased around a yawn.

“Yo mama,” she mumbled, giggling when he snorted.

Silence lulled between the two snuggled and surrounded by snacks in the bed, both of their minds lost somewhere in the clouds as they re-watched various Netflix series.

He thought he’d heard her slip in and out of sleep earlier, but truth be told, he could’ve been listening to himself breathe. There had been a few times his reddened eyes snapped open to be in the middle of a completely different episode, but mentioning it would be admitting he was falling asleep which he continued to adamantly deny. With a blind reach, he retrieved his phone from the nightstand.

Just a little past midnight, but way too late. He was enjoying this too much, though. Nick was only selfish in the sense that sometimes he just wanted to snuggle right up to Callie and feel her body against his. The last time they’d had a moment like this without Leo in the way was at the beginning of her pregnancy, and laying like this only made him realize how long ago that was.

“We should be in bed,” Nick mumbled, rubbing his eye.

“We are in bed,” she laughed, sliding her cheek up to look at him.

“You know what I mean. Big day tomorrow,” he looked down at her, reaching to move some of her hair from her cheek so he could better see those big eyes that always sparkled.

“Everytime I think about it I get so nervous,” she whispered.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. It feels like that first time I met you at Santa Monica. I stress ate like seven funnel cakes. I was so anxious,” she admitted shyly.

“I changed a bunch of times. Couldn’t decide on anything,”

“Oh you did good, sir,” she winced, biting her bottom lip. “You could’ve drowned in my panties,”

“I would’ve if your sister hadn’t’ve interrupted,” he grumbled, forever bitter.

“Oh hush, it was a sign we would be together forever,”

“How so?” he questioned, twisting in her direction a little.

“I would’ve never called a guy back if that happened with anyone else, but you were so perfect that I swallowed the embarrassment and saved my horniness for another day,”

Nick smiled, a big goofy one. “Shut up,”

“Shut me up then,” she came back with, fast as a whip.

His eyes dropped to her lips, lingering before coming back to her eyes. “Isn’t that bad luck?”

“It was bad luck when we both ended up home,” she whispered, the weight of her hand once on his chest now coming to stretch across his meat.

That was enough convincing for Nick.

Callie was a little slower getting over him, but her heated kisses kept him concentrated on what they both wanted. When she was in her spot sitting in his lap, he could better taste her tongue after pulling her chest flush against his, his strong hands quickly continuing to her round ass he pulled back and forth over his growing dick. A steadying hand against his chest meant he could leave her skin that was marked red where he grabbed, her hips resuming the motions.

With his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, he easily pulled her loose sleeping shorts aside, revealing her plump pussy lips.

He could already feel how warm she was through his sweats, shortening his breaths in anticipation.

“You’re so hot,” he admired, looking up in time for her hair to fan around them when leaning down to kiss him. Strong, sinewy arms wrapped tightly around her waist, grounding himself to the angel that squirmed in his hold deliciously. Silently, inwardly, he thanked those who had blessed him with such a girl, promising to worship more as soon as he was done with this.

A firm tug on the ends of her shirt had it flying past her fingertips, thrown to the floor.

Callie gripped the railing to the headboard when he pulled her chest into his open mouth, a long lick gliding over a hardened nipple that had goosebumps fire up her arms. She snickered when he smacked his lips a few times, moving onto the other side. An old technique had her limp in his hold, her thighs tightening at his sides. He encouraged her hips to keep moving, his cock desperate for attention, but her mind was only a pool of melted pleasure at that point.

A hard gasp fell from her wet lips when he graced her clit with tight circles, hanging off of his neck to look down at his hand flat against her lower stomach as his thumb massaged her into a trance. Gradually her eyes fell shut, hair sticking to her cheeks while she panted softly.

His loose smile made her rock into his touch. “You want it already, don’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice vibrating with growls; Callie could only nod. He pecked her sloppily. “Get naked,”

Callie stumbled off into the center of the bed to kick off her shorts and socks, moving onto the food and remotes and phones that were now being swept onto the floor without a care.

Nick’s shirt and sweats had already been tossed off, but now as he rummaged through the drawer of his bedside table, his excitement was plummeting. Here was the box, but…

“We’re out of condoms,” he announced, looking back at her sat naked at the center of the bed on her knees with her dishevelled hair a mess around her shoulders. It only added to the tragedy of the situation.

“So?” she asked, her fingers drumming against her thighs.

Nick stood straight, his head cocking.

Since she’d been cleared for sex there hadn’t been a session they forgot to use protection, no matter how it dampened the sensation. He’d done it for her, for he wasn’t the one who’d be carrying anymore surprise babies, although it was the memory of her sweet, bare pussy around his unsheathed cock that helped bring him to an end, now. He’d wanted to ask her, even just for one quick slide in, but Nick had always assumed this was the new norm until either of them were snipped.

“Are you- really?” he asked.

“I hate them, Nick. I’m so over using them,” she exhaled, her shoulders drooping. “I’ve been trying to be good but if I have to ride your dick one more time with a balloon over it-”

She yelped, her legs pulled from under her ass and Nick finding his spot between her flailed knees when she realized what happened.

The mood shifted again, and suddenly they were in perfect sync.

Her knees drew upwards when the top of his thighs pressed under her bottom, his hand finding its place at the bend of her leg that was closest to her chest.

She made it up onto an elbow when he spit at his tip pressed against her entrance, her hand hovering against his belly.

“I’ll go slow,” he soothed, meeting her eyes. The first time they’d reunited in bed, his excitement resulted in hurting her, and from that came the need to remind him to be gentle, even this far down the road. A guilt he’d always carry, but he’d work on fixing it.

It didn’t burn this time his head popped in, his thick shaft following until she was filled to his base. Her shoulders fell back with a loud sigh while his eyes slammed shut, pressing to her as tightly as he could. He’d dived into a pool of ecstasy, sending strong shivers up and down his spine as he basked in her heat.

The stinging tug of a condom was at last absent, and there was only Nick’s velvet skin gliding against hers, creating the friction she so wildly desired.

“Baby,” she called, holding the hand at her leg when he stared down at where they were joined. His dilated eyes landed on hers, a low snarl curling his lips when he withdrew only to slip back in.

Her head rolled back in time with her eyes, a loud moan rumbling under the hand that slid up his chest when he rested forward on his hands, her knee hooked around his chiseled arm. He’d draw out until her heat was kissing his head, just so he could feel that delicious pressure before pushing back in. Nick leaned into one hand so he could touch her, dragging his rough hands up and down her body that gravitated towards his caresses. When her pussy bucked into his thrust, a surprised moan came from him, an eager thrust bouncing her.

A low, rumbling growl moved into her when he yanked her hips up in line with his, his nostrils flaring as he scented them together like this.

“Do it,” she smiled, her feet planted into the sheets behind him.

Their eyes locked during the time he adjusted his feet beneath himself, his breaths deep and loud. A few leisure bucks were her warmup, and then came that smirk. She bowed until she balanced on her shoulder blades, his grunts and chuffs nothing compared to the singing made in his name during his fucking. He was a force driven purely by instinct; the need to fill his girl again, to lay claim to what would officially be his that day.

The slapping of their bodies coming together drowned out the TV beside them, Callie’s resounding cries piled atop his raucous moans as he shoved his way into her body again and again, her juices covering them as he pounded that spot hidden deep between her tightening walls.

Her ass was dropped from his hold so he could lean forward for a kiss, her mind spinning when he rolled her on top of him.

With a flip of her head to move her hair off her sticky back, Callie sat straight, her fingertips guiding him back in as her knees slid out until she was sitting flat on him, flinching when his tip found the back of her pussy.

God, she was so small in his hands when he held her cinched waist; if he stuck his thumbs out, they could touch.

A deep moan rang in his chest when she snapped her hips back and forth, her sweet cunt massaging his entire length. When a dip of her center was particularly low, she’d gasp, holding her stomach where it felt he was poking, but a wide smile always followed those overpowering shocks of spine curling bliss.

Nick held steadfast to her hips, guilty in keeping her flat against himself so there was the added friction on his head.

“Oh fuck,” he drawled, his hand landing back into the sheets.

“Nick-” she gasped, her hand flying to his chest. “I’m-”

His last burst of energy was used flipping them again so she was spread below him, his hands hooking under her knees to push back into the bedding beside her ribs.

There was no more words as he poked his way back in, pistoning into her with such power her toes curled, her arms falling limp above her head when her climax came crashing around her. In an instant, she was stiff as a board, her legs strong enough to fight past his hold and stretch straight in tight trembles at his sides as he continued. When she could catch her breath, she shouted, a deep flush blooming across her cheeks and chest. Nick watched with a proud smile as she convulsed under him, her silent mumbles barely words as she came down from her high.

Her limp thighs shook mightily in his hold when he pushed them apart, their bodies touching in a paused moment so he could adore her with soft kisses.

She was still breathless as he brushed his lips across her jaw, her soft throat pulsing with the blood racing through her. Her pussy throbbed dully around him compared to the fist like hold he barely made it through moments ago.

A soft whisper in his ear brought the tempo back up, but Nick wanted to stay like this.

A beauty such as her was only admired best this close, and even though she’d found her climax, she whimpered below him, holding his face as he fucked her sweetly. Her ankles locked behind him, a heady groan to follow before he dropped his face beside hers.

“Should I cum on your stomach?” he panted, his thrusts weakening as the pleasure peaked.

“Inside me,” she kissed into his cheek, tightening the hold with her legs. “Cum inside me baby,”

The hand lost in her hair gripped her roots, a loud hiss coming from between her teeth when his entire body tightened and jerked against her flushed cunt. The screaming engine of Nick’s orgasm overtook him like a wave would at the beach, ringing from every end of his body and back to his center that spilled into his ecstatically beautiful bride to be. He grunted with every thick stream of semen forced into the space they both snuggly occupied, slowly stilling until they were both a heaving pile of sweaty parts and cloudy minds.

He worried he’d crush her the longer he laid over her, but the soft gliding of her hands up and down his back were too good to pass up. He exhaled, his face buried between the mattress and her head. “Fuck,”

Callie giggled, her cheek leaning into his so he’d force himself up to look at her. The urgency was gone in their kisses, but now he could feel how sleepy she was.

“Ready?” he asked against her mouth, only moving when she nodded. Her thighs trembled when he dragged out of her, bringing a thick stream of the nectar he’d left behind.

“Oh I can feel that,” she grimaced, sitting up on her elbows warily. It wasn’t clear at that point if it was the weed or sex that had left her feeling like her head was vacant.

“You should see it,” he smirked, his cocky pride coming through. “How many siblings did you want Leo to have?”

“Ha,” she shouted. “Good luck getting me pregnant ever again. My body said one and done,” she grunted sitting up, scurrying off to the bathroom after Nick had hoisted her up. He didn’t answer, and wouldn’t. Callie adored the idea of having a big family, but the night the topic came up when Leo was two months old, it only ended in her confiding in Nick that she felt she’d never be so lucky again. She wasn’t wrong in saying her body would likely fight off pregnancy for years, maybe endlessly if they ever tried again. Where it once happened so effortlessly, the time following to get where they were now had left them both a little… doubtful.

Nick yanked the blanket off their bed, tossing it beside the door so he could flop into the cool sheets of the mattress after turning off the lights and TV. His arms were already open when she came wobbling back in, her naked body collapsing into his. They rolled and wiggled until they found their spots, her head tucked under his chin and their legs tangled.

“We broke like four traditions,” she mumbled through a closed jaw.

“Thinking about it, I don’t think it applies to us,” he yawned; the sleepiness was at last getting to him. She looked up at him curiously.

“Our whole relationship is taboo. Curses don’t apply to morally incorrect choices,” he explained, laughing when she did.

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” she settled, her soft smile lingering when he rubbed her arm. The soft breeze from their ceiling fan moved her loose hair around his arm, tickling his skin, but the gentle strokes across his chest from her was lulling him into sleep.

“You’re not gonna bail on me tomorrow, right?” she asked suddenly, and his eyes opened.

He leaned away from her so he could better see her face when she looked up. “Why would you ask that?”

“I had to ask, my mind wouldn’t let me put it to rest,” she sighed. “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” he pulled her chin up, holding her face. “I’ve been trying to get you to marry me for years, remember?”

She giggled, nodding. “What if right when I said yes you were like ‘fuck, she said yes, what do I do now?’”

“Oh my god that brain of yours,” he sighed, laying back down to pull her tight against his chest. “I’ll prove it to you when I’m waiting at the altar,”

“Promise?” she asked, her big eyes already closed. He pushed some hair aside, her lids fluttering a moment.

“Always.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

did i plant a seed in this chapter? are those church bells in the distance? honeymoon in san diego where they have the best tacos HWHAT?

only 3 chapters left! ;_; thanks for reading, my loves! ❤

[whirlybirbs]

--- tenderly feral. 

summary: you’re used to being alone. daryl, somehow, changes that. rating: t for violence, references to murder/assault/loss, s5 spoilers, if that matters. word count: 3.7k a/n: this is set mid-season 5. right before alexandria. listen, i know, i’m catching up, okay???? anyways, i wrote for daryl when i was literally in high-school and i think this is very fitting. it all comes full circle. this will, no doubt, be a series.                                             ✘      next chapter.      ✘

You’re quiet. Mean lookin’ and awfully quiet.

Daryl Dixon reasons you’re a little bit like a feral cat - used to bein’ outdoors and used to bein’ mean, mean as can be. You’re not used to havin’ others around. It shows.

You don’t trust easy.

And that’s fine, because neither does he.

You’re with the group a little over a week when you finally speak more than a word -- it’s to Rick, saying you saw some formula and diapers and baby blankets in one of the neighborhoods South of Atlanta. It’s a metaphorical olive branch; offered in favor for the next-to-nothing meals and for the church roof over your head...

For saving your skin.

Your voice is a rasp, sounds like you haven’t used it in months. The words fall past your lips slow and sluggish.

(Daryl wonders if it’s from the bruises around your neck, from the hands that had been strangling you into the pavement with no remorse when he found you.)

You’re trying to say thank you. The words don’t want come out just yet. Daryl knows how that feels. So you offer a supply run instead. Risk your neck. Show your thanks.

You figure you won’t be around for long. Might as well make it worth it.

The archer squints into the evening sky as a sunset flare draws a halo around your head.

“Didn’t think t’ grab it, then,” you mutter, lips ghosting over the words as your worried eyes bounce to the cooing infant in the officer’s arms. You toe the dirt, “But, I could grab it now. She’s gotta eat.”

Rick doesn’t trust easy anymore -- not to say he ever really did before.

His eyes narrow, a blink of a microexpression that’s laced with skepticism and curiosity and a vague sense of doubt. Despite it, you stand unwavered as Daryl watches through the mousy strands of his hair from the front steps of the church. After a moment, Rick nods.

His eyes dart across the wooded horizon.

“Tomorrow,” Rick says finally, “Sun’s gonna set soon.”

Daryl watches as you nod, shuffle past, and retreat to the church. His stare follows the steps of your well-worn boots, blue eyes watching as you weave through the open doors to the Lord’s home silently.

You’re a feral cat tryna be an indoor cat.

But you’re tryin’.

Daryl guesses that’s all that matters.

✘ 

You prefer being alone.

It’s just... better that way.

You leave before sun-up and come back that afternoon with a carload of supplies -- Daryl isn’t sure how you managed to swing it, heading out to the ‘burbs with the van alone like that, but you do and there’s grub in everyone’s belly at the end of the night because of it.

It’s either sheer stupidity or pure survival and Daryl isn’t sure which one.

That night, he watches from a few pews back as you fork a can of brown bread into your mouth while you shake a bottle of formula.

In the lights of the candles, you seem softer -- maybe not so mean.

You present the bottle to Carl, lips quirked up into a ghost of a smile as the boy thanks you and bounces his sister on his hip.

(The boy reminds you of someone you knew once, then, and the formula hangs between your hand and his as a memory punches you in the gut -- you remember Boston, and Pennsylvania, and every loss along the way and Carl sees it before you can wipe it away. You try your best to distract from your gaping wound with a tight-lipped smile, but the burn of tears unfallen paint the boy’s face all sorts of guilty.)

“You okay?” he asks, eyeing the bottle.

“Yeah,” you whisper, ducking to the ground, “M’ fine.”

You ain’t. Daryl sees that.

The pew creaks as Rick settles beside the archer.

Silence runs like a river between the two men as you cross the church and settle back against the wall by the altar. They’re both watching, like wolves protecting their pack, and you avoid the weight of their gazes in favor of your canned bread and the small comfort of your corner.

You swipe angrily at the tears streaking your cheeks.

Daryl sees it. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but he sees it.

This is why it’s better to be alone.

“If we’re gonna move soon, after we get Beth,” says Rick after a few beats of breath, “We need more supplies. Somethin’ t’ last us more than a few days.”

Daryl blinks into his can of beans, knee bouncing.

“Yeah.”

“She offered to show us the spot. Go with her tomorrow.”

Daryl nods, tipping back the can into his mouth as Rick pats his knee.

✘

“I’m comin’ with you.”

You go rigid, stiff as a board, when Daryl’s voice passes behind you. Swallowing, you bend at the knee and move to finish shoving a few balled up bags and some water into your camping pack -- when you stay silent, his boots carry him closer, and you’re left to eye the lopsided laces staring back at you.

“Y’ alright with that?”

“Don’t matter,” you say, words biting a bit more than you mean for them to; you’re quick to stand, hauling your pack onto your back, “... Does it?”

Suddenly, the world swings on a hinge and like a screen door slamming open, you’re locked in the orbit of Daryl Dixon. The shiner around his eye makes him look meaner than he is. Blue eyes are soft, betraying him even more. You stand straight, unwavering, as the archer wets his lips and breaks away. He toes the ground and swings his crossbow over his left shoulder as he squints along the tree line.

Mean, mean, mean. Ain’t you?

“No,” he breathes, “It don’t.”

✘

The ride to the South End ‘burbs is quiet.

You forfeited the keys without a fight, swinging yourself into the passagender side of the van -- your fingers had clawed at grime and scum lining the windshield only to yield nothing but smears. So, as the van rolls on, you opt to look out the window.

The view, however desolate and broken, is nice.

After a long stretch of road and a longer stretch of silence, Daryl finally speaks. Blue eyes dart to the curve of your face. They linger, following the column of your throat.

“... Those bruises are healin’ up good.”

He eyes the road with a noted sense of worry.

Again, you seem to stiffen and turn inward. Your hands fly to your neck, pushing the collar of your worn flannel up. The brush of your fingers spurs a wince that flashes into a snarl. Daryl sees it.

Mean.

You plant a boot on the dashboard and cross your arms.

And that’s that.

✘

You manage to stock up three bags of cans, water, and medical supplies.

It’s not much but it’s something, and as you drag yourself up into the van, you catch Daryl’s figure in the rearview. There’s a cigarette hanging between his lips, fingers prying at a bag in the trunk -- the smell of nicotine is better than that of the upholstery which has seemingly soaked up all the residue from it’s previous owner.

The stain in the carpet is big.

Your eyes fleet up from aforementioned stain, connecting with Daryl’s like keys fitting a lock.

He’s always watching.

You reason Daryl Dixon is a bit like a fighting dog -- nasty when he needs to be and fiercely protective. It shows.

He doesn’t trust easy.

And that’s fine, because neither do you.

(Even when if he is the man who’d saved your fucking life. Even if Daryl Dixon is the man who’d pried another living being off you -- even if he’d tackled that fuck to the ground while you gasped for air and stars swam in your eyes. Bloodied fingers clawed at the hot pavement and the world swayed, but you could breathe and you were alive, even if the sound of a tinkering belt and violent threats still sat in your ears.)

Trustin’ ain’t easy now-a-days.

✘

The dance of candlelight carves his face into something softer -- you swear you can see the play of a smile there when Carol talks; as the grey-haired women waves her spoon and shrugs, you find yourself missing conversation for the first time in a long time.

Maybe you have been alone for too long. It shows in moments like these.

You tuck your knees closer and fork the peaches in the tin can with an edge of frustration. In your corner, you sit, far from the lull of the group’s conversation.

But, it’s Tyreese who drags you up from the bottom of that pit of loneliness -- the deep baritone of his voice rouses your attention.

“... Where are you from, newbie?” he asks, words weighted with sincerity, “Where’s home?”

(You’re not a newbie. Maybe that lanky boy Noah is, but you’re not -- this is just something temporary between the running. This group... well, nothing is ever permanent anymore. Especially with the current state of things.)

The conversation holds itself still the lungs of those around you, stuck in their throats as Tyreese drives apart the sea and welcomes you in with a kindness unfounded.

Your eyes hit the bottom of your can. The sugar sweet peaches glisten like tears.

“Boston,” you muster finally, exhaling.

“Christ.”

A sea of murmurs. You can feel the distrust of Rick and Michonne in the tempered reactions -- as Rick bounces a cooing Judith, you’re suddenly feeling like the flame the moths flock to. You feel obligated to share this part of your story, after all isn’t that what people do?

You’re not sure. When you’re alone, you avoid the living like the plague.

But, despite your hang-up’s and hesitation, you nod again, move forward and sit up. You swallow and wet your lips.

“Been on the road for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Since it started.”

Daryl’s face flinches. You see it. He knows.

“Why?” asks Michonne with a pointed edge, “Why not... settle?”

“I did,” you say, “Tried to, at least. Then people died, shit fell apart, and... I kept moving. I had to.”

“Alone?” asks Rick, eyes narrowed.

You nod. Shame weighs your shoulders.

“Seemed like I was bad luck,” you chirp, “Real bad.”

“Well, you’re here now,” says Tyreese, “And we’re glad.”

You wonder if that’s a good thing, after all.

✘

“Here.”

You narrow your eyes.

In his hands hangs a tube. The label is faded.

You squint up at Daryl Dixon from your spot on the church’s steps as a mid-day sunray curls right around his head like a halo. His face is set in something awfully serious. Fiercely protective. Like a damn fightin’ dog. 

(You wonder who holds the choke chain, who yanks the leash.

Is it Rick?)

You take it, confusion flying across your face.

“It’s some cream,” he says, “Carol found it. Said it’s good for bruises.”

You see the way his eyes fall on your throat.

“M’ fine,” you croak, “It... It don’t even hurt.”

“Bullshit.”

“How would you know, huh?” you bite, lips snarling, “I’m fine.”

“‘Cuz I been choked out before,” Daryl snaps back, looming closer, “Take th’ damn cream.”

You do, only with a lasting look of irritation. The moment the tube leaves his hands, he relaxes.

Like that, the air dissipates into stillness.

Daryl’s eyes roam the steeple. When you speak, it catches him by surprise.

“... Thanks.”

You’re still feral. But you’re tryin’.

✘

You stay back -- you don’t know much about this mission to save one of their own, but you know you want nothin’ to do with the pigs in that hospital. You’ve met them before, out on the streets of Atlanta, and you have no intention of meeting them again.

The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

And when there’s trouble with the walkers that crawl to the church, following the hysterical father, you barricade them in alongside Michonne without second thought -- but this turn of fate dredges up this gut-churning feeling of bad luck.

Bad, bad luck.

And then, a fire truck full of friendly faces plow into your concept of bad luck and compounds it with a lie about a cure for all this and a busted trip to Washington.

And then, when you all drag yourselves to Grady Memorial and Daryl Dixon hauls a dead Beth Hershel out those back doors in his arms? When Maggie, the kind woman with the kind drawl crumples at the sight? When Daryl wails and Carol tries -- god she tries --  to calm them both down?

You’re left to wonder if you’re better off alone.

If you and your bad luck is better off in the streets.

Mean and awfully quiet.

✘

The group finds two cars.

They park in the woods and bury Beth at sun-down under a sky of red.

You pass dirt along the grave and remember a prayer from long ago. It’s a croak on your lips but it means something to Maggie, who reaches for your hand and thanks you after it’s all said and done.

Grief sits heavy in Daryl’s gut.

He’s at the edge of the makeshift camp, nothing but a shadow. But, you find him.

In your hands is a can of beans.

You settle next to him on the log. The wood groans but Daryl doesn’t flinch -- his eyes art trained on the low fire that glows before his boots. The embers crackle. He inhales, sharp and fast, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s been crying.

So, you pull your knife from your boot and crack the top of the can open. You gesture it towards him.

“Eat.”

“I ain’t hungry.”

Your jaw tightens.

Silence draws itself up between you and Daryl and dances in the flames of the campfire. You bounce your knee and clutch the can. That suffocating silence swells there, finally bursting when you turn to eye him with a careful amount of worry.

“... Who was she?”

You see his mouth move. His brows knot, then his face falls.

“A friend,” he whispers, “Family.”

You wonder what that’s like -- to have both of those with the current state of things.

(You had it once -- before things fell apart and you started moving on your own. You had a sister and friends and people who had killed for you by your side. You’d killed for them, too. You would, again. Maybe you’d kill for Daryl, too. A part of you already feels like you owe him.)

“I know it’s not my place,” you say slowly, “But she’d want you t’ eat.”

Daryl’s eyes rocket upwards, catching your expression.

He knows your right.

He takes the can and your fingers brush.

“... Thanks.”

And that’s that.

✘

Tyreese.

You liked him.

You forgot how this felt. Loss. Grief. Death.

You stand shoulder to shoulder beside Daryl over a shallow grave.

And you cry.

✘

It’s bad.

You’re bad -- you’re nothing but bad luck and all this? This is how it’s gonna end.

A thousand miles, and for what? To starve on a Georgia highway?

Behind you, like a ball and chain, is a horde of walkers that snarl and gasp and trudge along, waiting for one of you to drop. You wonder if you’ll go first -- if your last meal will really be peaches. Canned fuckin’ peaches.

You swallow, swipe at your clammy skin, and keep moving.

For the first time in a long time, you’re tired of moving. Tired of running. Of being alone.

For the first time in a long time, you glad you’re not alone.

Daryl is lingering behind you. His steps are sluggish and his crossbow is slung across his waist, posed and ready. The vest around his shoulders is soaked, tattered shirt darkened with sweat. You’re no better. The hair along your neck clings with reckless abandon. You spare him a glance, then slow up to match his pace.

You’re quiet for a while, steps falling in with his.

And then you speak.

“I never said thanks.”

Daryl’s face gives nothing away. HIs eyes, though, dart to you for a moment. When you speak, your eyes are off on the horizon.

“That guy was gonna kill me over a can of soup,” you speak slowly, ignoring the garrish flashes of the scene that unfolds behind your eyes every-night, “And you stopped him.”

“... Had to.”

“No,” you shake your head, finally breaking to look at him, “You didn’t.”

He’s quiet for a few feet, then he sighs. “Jus’ ‘cause things have got t’ shit don’t mean people don’t matter.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I’m bad luck.”

“You’re not.”

“Ever since I joined up,” you drawl, movements sluggish as the horizon glimmers, “I... People have --”

“It ain’t your fault.”

His words are firm, backed by a rush of anger that knocks you for a loop. Daryl staggers along, face set in some unreadable way that leaves you wondering what he really thinks -- he’s like Rick and Michonne. Pointed and distrusting, but there’s something else there.

“Tell the others I’m goin’ t’ look for water.”

He dips into the woods and disappears.

Mean and awfully quiet.

✘

He doesn’t find water.

But when the skies split open and pour rivers of rain down on you all, you find yourself not caring. You lay in the street beside Tara and Rosita and you laugh -- peels of joyous sounds that mesh as the group scrambles to grab bags and bottles.

And when the sky roars, you and the group hole up in that barn down off the beaten path.

You curl up in a corner, far from the fire, as the come-down of the day seeps into your bones with the rain.

It’s Daryl who approaches, rousing you from a half-sleep.

He plops down against the hay bail, prompting you to stir.

You inhale and shift, rubbing your eyes. You blink at him, caught in the tired look on his face and the cut of his cheeks. He looks rough -- you haven’t known him long but you know this isn’t him. He’s a ghost of himself. Between grief and starvation, Daryl Dixon looks nothing like the man you’d watched nights ago back in the church, glowing in the light of prayer candles and good grub.

“You okay?” you ask softly, voice nothing more than a mere wisp.

“I wasn’t gonna save you at first,” he blurts, “Wasn’t gonna fight that guy, wasn’t gonna... stop him. Things have been bad and... I don’t --...”

His words die. Your chin drops.

“All this?” he gestures suddenly, “All this is just remindin’ me I’m alive, y’know?”

You turn to eye him, then nod. “Yeah.”

His fiddles with his fingers. Silence creeps between you two and your chest aches with some sort of feeling you’re not too sure of. Maybe it’s dread? Maybe it’s regret or... distrust. You don’t know. But it’s not nice.

“I’d do it again,” he leans, “If I had to.”

“Do what?”

“Kill someone,” Daryl mumbles, “If it meant savin’ you. I don’t regret that.”

You think of the sound the crossbow bolt made when it passed through that man’s skull. You think of Daryl, scrambling to help you up as a group of walkers creep in -- you think of him and Carol, prying you out of the thick of it and saving your fucking life.

“You don’t know me,” you say slowly, “What if I’m not who you think I am?”

“I’d know,” he watches you and you feel like you’re stuck in cement, “Everyone would know. But you ain’t bad. You know that.”

Maybe you do.

Again, the quiet rolls in like mist in the morning. You’ve started to realize it’s a part of Daryl -- he isn’t a talker, not like Glenn or Eugene. He’s quiet and reserved and he picks his words; there’s nothing that doesn’t matter in the way he speaks. It’s all him.

He spins a piece of grain between his fingers.

Your head rolls. You trace his profile with your eyes.

“M’ sorry about Beth.”

“Yeah,” he breathes as he drops his head back, “Me too.”

“... Think we’ll survive this?”

“We always do.”

✘

His name is Aaron.

And you don’t trust him.

You wonder if it’s because you’ve met men like him before -- promising a safe place to rest your head. Promising safety and a future. Those men have all been liars, thieves, murderers.

(You wonder if this is how Rick felt about you. If welcoming you in with Daryl’s blessing was met with the same hesitation? Were you once nothing more than another Aaron?)

But... he’s not lying.

Rick notes your discomfort. He needs that. He needs the good and the bad and the ugly, the trusting and the distrusting. He’s a good leader -- you’re seeing that now in the ex-cop. 

That’s how you get shouldered in between Aaron and Michonne in the backseat of that shit-box Lincoln. That’s how you plow through the dead at 45 MPH, heart dropping into the pit of your gut as you haul ass out of the car and plunge your hunting knife into as many heads as you can. Your survival instinct is feverish and terrified and full of desperation; as you roar, Rick watches.

In a flash, something settles between you both.

You book it through the woods and hit Route 16 with no RV in sight.

No Carl, no Judith... No Daryl.

The moon casts inky shadows in your wake.

No time to stop. You all keep moving.

✘

Rick whistles. He gives a call.

There’s a response.

You carry yourself into a collision of an embrace -- Daryl curses, quietly, as he sways on his feet and grips your shoulders tightly. In the light of the alleyway, it’s just the two of you; the moment passes like a ship in the night and peel yourself away with a broken laugh.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back and gauging you. The touch makes his skin hot.

“Fine,” you croak, “You?”

“Never better.”

✘

Alexandria is what they call it.

In the cramped back of the RV, you spare Daryl a look as the vehicle rolls to a stop and Abrahram announces the arrival with a measured level of reservation.

You can’t remember the last time you stopped running.

No better time than the present.

After all, you’re just a feral cat, tryin’ its best to be indoors.

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 15

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

word count: 3897

_______________________________________________________

Julian didn’t know what to think of the new group that had just come onto the farm. He didn’t trust the one guy, that was for sure. He’d gone into the city with Otis and had come back without him. Otis was a good person, but it didn’t sound right. He probably would’ve done anything to save a little kid but the guy seemed sketchy. He felt sort of relieved when it seemed like not everyone bought his bullshit either.

He was jumpy as he waited for Maggie to get back from her run to the store. Since Otis, the thought of people leaving the farm felt like they were marching off to their deaths. A smile was on his face as he finally spotted Maggie riding up on her horse with Glenn. That guy didn’t seem too bad, at least. Unable to contain himself, he leapt off the porch and had the reins of Glenn’s horse in his hands before the other man could say anything. “Let me help you put the horses back,” he said brightly.

Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look before Maggie replied. “Sure thing. Thanks for all your help out there, Glenn.”

Julian looked over his shoulder as the other man hurried off to join the rest of his group by the tents as the dark haired woman from before and her redneck companion came out from the trees. “What do you think,” he questioned Maggie before he clicked his tongue and began to lead to horse to the stable.

“Nothin to think. They find that little girl, odds are my daddy’s gonna make them leave,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders from atop the horse.

Julian nodded his head slowly, “You see anything out there?”

“We didn’t see her out there if that’s what you’re askin me, Jude.” Maggie shook her head before she let out a long sigh.

Julian’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t help but stare out at the barn in the distance as he opened the door to the horse’s pen. A shiver ran down his back before he averted his eyes. “Better than the alternative, I guess.”

~

Dove rested somewhat easily that night, she felt some comfort in the fact that the next day would mean the search was in full swing. She still hated doing the laundry, though. She would rather be out there in the woods looking for Sophia, but Carol had roped her into her chore. “C’mon. No one wants to help me with this. Andrea’s off tryin’ to play Annie Oakley somewhere and Lori’s still sleepin.”

“I wish I was still sleepin,” Dove grumbled as she picked up a basket of clothes. She squinted her hazel eyes at the closest well. “Jesus, what happened over there?”

Carol shook her head. “You missed it. They sent Glenn down into the well. Apparently there was a walker down there.” Dove opened her mouth to reply but Carol cut her off. “I know you woulda raised all types of hell if you were here, but Glenn’s fine. You’ve seen him.”

Dove huffed and blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “I’m gonna give that little bastard a piece of my mind for not tellin me about that. When I’m done with him, he’ll wanna go back down that well.” She let out a chuckle.

It felt like hours, but it wasn’t too long until she was sitting on top of a picnic table, basket of wet clothes next to her. She handed Carol a wet shirt to hang up as Lori stepped out of her tent. “Mornin, princess,” Dove called over cheerfully, “Nice of you to join us.”

Lori managed a weak smile as she walked over and greeted the two sisters. “Can’t believe I slept in.”

“You probably needed it,” Carol smiled at her.

“Yeah, I think we all need to take turns sleeping in. It feels amazing,” Dove yawned as she ran a hand through her ponytail.

“You feelin ok,” Carol scrutinized Lori carefully as the other woman nodded. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you two. That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking, I wouldn’t mind cooking in a real kitchen again.” Dove smiled as she thought about Carol’s cooking. She definitely wasn’t a five-star chef by any means, but Carol was a good cook. There was no doubt about that. “Maybe we all pitch in and make dinner for Hershel and his family tonight. Kind of looking for things to keep my mind occupied.”

Dove leaned back on her hands with a heavy sigh as she looked up at the sky. She really wanted to be out there. She wanted to help look for Sophia, but she knew Carol would fight her on it. Maybe the right place for her to be was here on the farm; she needed to be with her sister.

“Seems like the least we could do,” Lori agreed.

Dove nodded her head, “Yeah sure. I’ll try to help. I’m not real good in the kitchen, but I’ll try my best.” She flashed her sister a quick smile.

“You mind extending the invitation,” Carol smiled at Lori. Would feel more right comin from you,” Carol reasoned.

Dove eyed Lori. “You’re like our unofficial First Lady,” Carol joked.

Lori and Dove both rolled their eyes but Dove let out a snort of laughter. “President Rick Grimes? I don’t remember votin, but that sounds about right,” she raised an eyebrow at Lori and raised a hand quick enough to block a clothespin from hitting her face.

Meanwhile, Julian had made his way over to the group by the car. He felt like he should be trying to help them look for that little girl. Every person out there could make a difference in finding her or not. He would want people out there looking for his sister like this if he had any idea where she was.

“She might have gone further east than we’ve been so far,” Rick stated as he laid the map out in front of them.

“I’d like to help,” Jimmy spoke up first and Julian narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Hershel would kick his ass for trying. Jimmy was just a kid, but Julian was grown enough to make his own decisions. “I know the area pretty well and stuff.

“I think I know the area better than you, Jim,” Julian spoke quietly as he approached the group.

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Good question. Julian would like to believe Jimmy, but he couldn’t help but think the kid was full of shit trying to look cool in front of his girlfriend.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me,” Shane spoke from the car.

Shane gave Julian the creeps. “They found Elizabeth Smart nine months after she went missing on pure chance of someone noticing the people who took her,” he remembered seeing something about it when he was younger and it just stuck with him. Shane might be a cop, but it seemed like he wasn’t too invested in the search.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl held his hand out to about elbow height. Definitely seemed like a little kid and unless Georgia was suddenly overflowing with feral children, Shane was full of shit.

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick sounded hopeful.

“No maybe about it. I’m gonna borrow a horse,” Daryl pointed at the map. Hershel won’t be happy about that, Julian thought but didn’t speak. He didn’t want to get on the bad side of this guy.

“Good idea,” T-Dog spoke up, “Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up their too.” A short laugh echoed from behind Julian and he turned to see Dove, still perched on the picnic table, shake her head.

“Chupacabra,” Rick inquired.

“You never heard this,” Dale sighed. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.” Julian shuddered at the thought of the goat sucking monster; Jimmy laughed. Julian gave him a quick slap to the back of the head as Daryl spoke again.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?”

“You believe in a blood-sucking dog,” Jimmy questioned.

“You believe the dead walk,” Daryl sneered.

“He’s got you there, Jimbo,” Julian shrugged his shoulders as he rested his hand on the hood of the truck. Jimmy reached for a gun, man that kid was really trying it today.

“Why don’t you come train tomorrow,” Shane offered. “If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

Andrea spoke up, “For now, he can come with us.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to go with Jimmy.” Julian turned his attention to Rick. He didn’t feel like going in a car with Shane. The last man to go with him somewhere didn’t exactly seem to fare too well. Even if it meant going with the woman that he didn’t really know and someone who’d made fun of someone for believing in a Chupacabra.

Rick nodded his head and held out his hand to the younger man, “Alright. Thanks for helping us, kid.”

“Julian, sir.”

“Rick is just fine,” the sheriff smiled a little.

“Right, sorry. Not used to bein too friendly to the police. But, no problem, Rick. It feels right to help. Just hope we find her,” Julian nodded his head. The others didn’t notice him tense up as he turned his attention away from the barn and focused on the search plan.

~

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she turned her attention from the parting group to the house. She couldn’t keep Carol waiting much longer or she might send out another search party for her. As she ascended the steps, Glenn caught her attention. He seemed out of it. “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Glenn,” Dove waved a hand at him.

The man jumped slightly as he turned his head to look at his friend. The smile on his face fell slightly as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Hey, Dove. You not heading out today?”

“Nah, decided I might as well tend to my womanly duties,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder in an exaggerated manner. “You alright, bud? You see kind of out of it since you got back yesterday.” Dove frowned as she leaned against the post.

“I’m fine. Just…a lot going on in my head, you know,” Glenn smiled sadly as he rested his hand on the guitar in his lap.

A sly look was in Dove’s eye as she spoke. “Well channel all of that emotion into a song and I’m sure you can woo yourself a farmer’s daughter in no time,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

The blush that shot up into Glenn’s cheek answered any questions she might have had. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothin! Just that I think a blind man all the way in Korea can see what I’m talking about! But that’s none of my business,” she shrugged her shoulders and took a step closer to him. “But if you do happen to want to talk about it, just let me know! I’m your friend and I’ll always be here to listen. Plus, no better person to go to for girly advice than a girl.” She chuckled as she ruffled Glenn’s hair.

Glenn smiled at the woman as she took a step back towards the door, “Thanks…”

Dove thought that Hershel’s house was nice and she made sure to tell them so. “Well thank you,” Patricia nodded her head politely.

Dove bit her lip as she looked around the hallway. “I just want to thank you,” she turned her attention back to the older blonde. Her expression seemed to be unreadable. Something about these people was off to her. They all seemed nice, but something wasn’t right about any of them. “For letting us stay here while we look for our niece. It’s not something you have to do especially now, you don’t know any of us from those walkers in the streets.”

Patricia held up a hand to stop her, “It’s not a problem. I just want to make sure that Rick and Hershel have made it very clear to you…”

“Once we find Sophia, once Carl is good to roll, we’re gone,” Dove nodded her head. “But still. Thank you,” she smiled as she turned on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “Just hope you don’t mind your mashed potatoes with a little crisp,” she called as she entered the room, “I suck at cooking!”

Carol shook her head at her younger sister as Lori laughed. “You can measure the ingredients,” Carol patted her arm.

“Listen, we all have skills. I was not made to be a house wife,” Dove raised her hands in surrender. “You, however, were a better housewife than any man ever deserved.” She winked at her sister.

Slightly uncomfortable, Lori changed the subject quickly. “You know you weren’t made to be a housewife?” She looked over her shoulder at the younger brunette as she began to peel a potato.

“Sure do. I was a few months away from trying it out, but let’s just say I had to cancel the subscription before the free trial ended,” Dove popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.

Carol clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “Still think you were better off. He seemed unstable.”

“Who? Owen,” Dove questioned her sister with a raised eyebrow. Carol just turned her attention to her. Dove rolled her eyes as she picked up a bigger carrot and started to peel it. “I mean he was a little…quirky.”

Lori let out a small groan at this, “Honey, we all know what quirky means. Quirky is code for ‘you’re unstable but I love you’.” The older brunette elbowed Dove lightly.

Carol let out a quiet snort of laughter at this, “You got that right. The one time when we went up to visit, we stayed in DC so-”

Dove cut her off with a panicked laugh, “Alright listen, I get it! Owen was unstable and I have terrible taste in men, but it’s over now so…we don’t have to rehash that story! Alright.”

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment before Lori whispered, “You’ll tell me later?”

“Oh, you bet,” Carol whispered back as Lori picked up a bucket to go collect more water.

“The hell you will,” Dove shouted as she picked up a carrot shaving and whipped it at her sister. “Be serious and cut up your god damn carrots,” Dove laughed and shook her head. Still, her thoughts went back to her life before everything went to shit. Actually, this was more like her life going to shit take two. Carol was right, she was way better off.

~

“Bout time you strolled on up here, Dixon.” Daryl’s attention snapped to the side, back to the direction of the farm.

“Hell do you want,” he snapped at the figure in front of him even though he knew she wasn’t real.

“Should really be getting home,” the figure spoke as she twirled a small pendant between her fingers. She wasn’t really there, but her hazel eyes stared right into his soul just like if she were there, “getting dark out.”

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped as he started stomping back towards the farm. The figure was a few steps ahead of him as he shuffled forward. “Don’t give a shit anyway.”

“Like you said. Merle wasn’t there for you, so why should you listen to him,” the voice was further ahead now and he glanced around before he spotted it a few yards ahead between the trees. “So man the fuck up and use you head for once, asshole.” When Daryl blinked, she was gone.

~

Dove had decided to take a break from the kitchen, but she didn’t seem to be able to find anyone that she wanted to see. Glenn seemed even more miserable than before, the other men were back without much news, and Daryl still wasn’t back yet. The last part made her feel uneasy. It was getting dark out. A creek on the porch made her turn her attention. “Julian, right? You find anything before,” she stepped towards him.

The young man lowered his binoculars before he shook his head, “Not a thing. Sorry. Maybe your friend found something?”

“Who?”

“The redneck guy. Daryl?”

Dove scoffed, “I don’t think that you can really say that me and Daryl are friends but…”

Andrea’s panicked shouts about a walker cut through the relative silence. Dove felt her pulse quicken and Julian shook his head, “we don’t get many walkers out this far.” He stepped quickly off the porch to help out and shoved the binoculars into Dove’s hand as he went.

Something in her gut told her to look through and when she did, the binoculars fell from her hand as she took off at a run. “Wait,” she shouted as she ran faster than she thought she had in years. She didn’t even realize how quick she was running until she was about halfway across the field.

“Is that Daryl,” Glenn said.

“Holy hell, man. You look like shit,” Julian shouted.

“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head,” Dove heard Daryl reply and she slowed down to a walk as a relieved laugh left her lips. “You gonna pull the trigger or what?”

It was silent for a few moments as Dove continued to approach the group. Glenn turned and noticed her but as Dove opened her mouth to call out, a gunshot rang out. What left her throat instead was a panicked scream as adrenaline took over and she took off again. She didn’t even realize what she’d done until her knees hit the ground. Rick was screaming back at Andrea and there was blood on her hands. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck,” Dove turned her head back in the direction of camp before she turned her head back to the sight in front of her. “Dumb fucking bitch, cmon don’t be dead please.” Dove muttered as Rick dropped to the ground next to her. “She shot him in the fucking head,” Dove’s voice shook as she reached a shaking hand out and turned Daryl’s head slightly.

“Good thing she’s a bad shot,” Rick mumbled as Daryl let out a pained groan. His eyes fluttered open for a moment and Dove felt relieved as she realized that he might look out of it, but he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t dead yet. A hand on her shoulder pulled her to her feet as Glenn wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Glenn gave her shoulder a squeeze as they watched Rick and Shane haul Daryl to his feet. “I was kidding,” he growled before he passed out.

Anger flared through Dove as Andrea approached them asking if he was dead.

“He’s wearing ears,” Dove heard Glenn’s panicked voice over the pounding of her blood in her ears. Her gaze fell to T-Dog as she fought to control her anger. How could you be so stupid Rick told you not to do it, she raged internally. Even the sight of Sophia’s doll couldn’t calm her down. All she could think of was how, if Andrea had killed Daryl, they would never know where Sophia might be.

She reached a boiling point as they crossed over into camp. All of the bullshit thoughts and prayers about Sophia. All of the wanting to save people and act like she was big and tough. On top of losing Sophia, it was too much. “I’m so sorry,” she heard Andrea say again as Glenn finally released her arm.

“You’re sorry,” Dove rounded on the blonde woman. The few people who hadn’t rushed into the house froze, Carol put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “You’re sorry that Sophia’s missing. You’re sorry that you wanted to blow yourself up. You’re sorry that you fucking almost killed the one person who might have the best shot at finding Sophia,” Dove’s voice was eerily calm as she stepped closer to the blonde.

“I thought he was a walker! I was just trying-,” but Andrea didn’t get to say what she was trying to do. There was a shout and all of a sudden, both women were on the ground. Dove only managed to land two punches to the woman before she was wrenched away from her.

“Bitch,” Dove shouted as she was pulled back towards the house. She watched with narrowed eyes as Dale helped Andrea back to the RV.

“Holy shit,” Julian mumbled as he held the squirming woman tighter as he tried to pull her towards the porch. It was quite a task, but once it was accomplished, he sat her in a chair and hurried off into the house.

Dove’s attention finally turned from the RV as she winced. A quick look down showed her that a cold washcloth was being placed on her knuckle by Carol. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol mumbled.

“Yeah well, she shouldn’t have shot someone,” Dove closed her eyes and shook her head.

There were quiet footsteps as she heard Carol walk back into the house. She sat like that for a while before the door creaked open. She opened her hazel eyes and her shoulders slumped as Rick walked out. The sheriff knelt next to the chair and she felt her shoulders tense as she waited for him to reprimand her.

“I’m not here to yell at you,” Rick sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “I very well should be for the stunt you pulled. I don’t wanna have to hear about you tryin to fight like that in front of my son like that. I’m sure you understand,” Rick glanced over at her.

Dove nodded her head before she turned her gaze over to Rick. “Sorry…I just got,” she took a deep breath, “I got real angry like I haven’t in a real long time.”

Rick frowned and nodded his head, “I understand the last few days have been real hard on you and Carol, so you don’t need me to be hard on you too.” Dove sat up a little straighter and faced Rick fully. “But I just wanted you to know that Daryl’s just fine. He’s resting, we didn’t tell him that you punched Andrea.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a discussion that you should be able to have by yourself. But he did tell us where he found Sophia’s doll. Pointed it out on a map and everything so we have an even better grid to look for her,” Rick smiled and Dove felt the corner of her mouth quirk up into a smile.

“Thank you, Rick,” Dove whispered.

“Not a problem,” Rick patted her arm.

Dove moved the washcloth from her hand and flexed her knuckles, “Guess it’s best if I don’t sit next to Andrea at dinner, huh,” she joked and Rick chuckled quietly.

“I would advise you not to do that. Just in case,” he rose to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to know that I’m gonna do my best to find her. I promise.”

_

@crossbowking​ @momc95​ @chaotic-gary-king-stan​

[livesincerely]

it’s so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey’s just gotten out of class—literally just walked out the door—when his phone starts ringing.

“Davey,” Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, “can you swing by the apartment real quick?”

Davey sighs. “Are you locked out of the house again?”

There’s a guilty silence. Then, “Or maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You don’t know.”

“Tony.”

“Charlie’s the one that lost the spare,” Tony capitulates immediately, there’s an indignant “Hey!” somewhere in the background, “and I left my keys in my locker ‘cause I thought Charlie had his—”

There’s a scuffle of noise, then Charlie’s voice breaks in, “—don’t listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didn’t even check—”

“—well, I thought you had yours, didn’t I?—”

“—and he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuff—”

“—that was supposed to be a secret you little shit!”

“—you started it!”

Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them out—they’ll remember him eventually.

In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:

Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again

He’s not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.

jc again?

And you’re going to have to get a new spare made

fuck okay i’ll take care of it. are you heading over?

I’m walking there now

ur the light of my life dave

Davey can’t help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:

how did ur midterm go?

I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!

duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?

Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.

fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?

Come home on time and we’ll see.

u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol

“Davey?” The sound of Charlie’s voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he might’ve been calling Davey’s name for a while. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Davey confirms.

“So are ya comin’ or what?” Tony cuts in, ever impatient. “I’m roasting out here!”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,” Davey responds dryly, “but I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Charlie says.

“I’ll be there soon,” Davey confirms.

“Hurry, will ya? Much longer and I’m gonna get heatstroke and die,” Tony declares.

Davey rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Tony.”

00000

When he arrives at Jack’s building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roof’s overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.

"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"

“Stop losing your keys and you won’t have to wait for me,” Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. “You couldn’t get anyone to buzz you in?”

“Old Man Davis hasn’t gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,” Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, “and Mrs. Ikeda isn’t home.”

“She joined a new book club,” Tony adds. “She won’t be back till late.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask her about it when I see her next,” Davey muses.

He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief.  Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.

“I’ve got a paper due in English tomorrow,” Tony explains. “Can you look it over once it’s finished? Maybe later this evening”

“Of course,” Davey replies. “What’s it on?”

“Lord of the Flies.”

Davey’s nose wrinkles up. “Oh, I hated that one. What’s the essay prompt?”

“Identify Golding’s argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,” Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. “Then make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Good to see that high school literature classes haven’t changed much in the last few years,” he says with a sigh. “How much have you written so far?”

“Oh, I haven’t even started it yet,” Tony casually rebuts.

“Is everything going okay?” Davey asks, frowning slightly. “If things are getting worse we can make an appointment—”

But Tony waives his concerns aside. “Nah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didn’t want to write it.”

“Well, let one of us know if you start having trouble,” Davey says.

"Okay, mom,” Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. He’s already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.

Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchen—he figures there’s no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And he’s right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.

By the time Jack gets home they’re each fully entrenched in different activities: Davey’s washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jack calls jokingly as he enters. There’s a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. “Did you get the tomato—?”

“I got the tomato paste,” Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, “and I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though it’s expensive as all hell.”

“Don’t judge me,” Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. “You spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.”

“I’m just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,” Jack continues. “You can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and it’ll cut down on the grocery bill.”

“Watch it, Kelly,” Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jack’s direction. “Smartasses don’t get dinner.”

“‘s that so?” Jack asks with a grin. “Then why the hell are we still feeding Tony?”

“I heard that,” Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, you were supposed to,” Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jack’s hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, “So, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.”

Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. “You told Jack?”

“Of course he did,” Jack says. “Someone’s gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ain’t gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.”

“Charlie lost the spare,” Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while he’s not in the room to defend himself. “And I didn’t lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.”

“Uh huh, save it for the judge,” Jack responds, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Just know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, it’s coming outta your subway money.”

“Jackie, leave Tony alone,” Davey comments mildly over Tony’s spluttering protests. “He needs to work on that paper and you’re distracting him.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Tony repeats, a little smug. “You’re distracting me.”

Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.

Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know there’s no loitering in my kitchen.”

“Well, I’m nothin’ if not a law abidin’ citizen,” Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. “Where do you want me?”

Davey licks his lips. “Think you can handle browning the hamburger?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Jack responds with a smirk.

Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.

“I’ve gotta head back out this evening,” Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. “Johnson’s got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.”

“How long is the session?” Davey asks. “Here, will you open this?”

“We’re scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.” Jack’s hand brushes against the small of Davey’s back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.

“Are ya spendin’ the night or are ya headin’ back to campus?”

“Depends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,” Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. “We might be at it a while.”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Well, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.”

Davey sets down the spoon he’s holding, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jack,” he says warningly.

“Davey,” Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background there’s the faint sound of Tony muttering, “Jesus, not this again.”

“Jack, I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch.”

“Or you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,” Jack counters as he always does. “I’m not even gonna be here to use it.”

“You’ll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if you’re out late.” Davey argues. “I don’t even have class tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t take the bed I’ll just carry you in there once I get back,” Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. “So you might as well save me the trouble.”

Davey sputters. “That’s not— You can’t just— That only happened a couple of times!” he finally gets out.

"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.

“You sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it keep working?”

“No, see, that’s exactly why I should take the couch,” Davey insists. “It’s not like the sound of you coming in will wake me up—”

Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startled—he hadn’t realized they were standing so close to each other.

“Just take the bed, Davey,” Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. “Please?”

Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. “Fine,” he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. “Just this once.”

"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.

"Oh shit—!"

00000

Later that evening, after they’ve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.

Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often there’s a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraser—Davey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when he’s there next.

Davey notices the time and frowns. “Jack,” he calls out, “it’s already 7:30. If you don’t leave soon you’re gonna be late for work.”

There’s a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.

“Fuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,” Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. “Christ, has anyone seen my—”

“Your wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,” Davey says, pointing. “And take a jacket, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Great, I’m sure the models will love that,” Jack says with a groan. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.”

He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlie’s homework from over his shoulder. “If Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,” Jack tells him. “I probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.”

Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.

“Listen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,” he advises. “The only reason I got through undergraduate writing was ‘cause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.”

“I thought I was s’pposed to always listen to Davey,” Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.

Jack pauses, considering. “Yeah, just do that.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?”

“Jack, you’re gonna be late,” Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jack’s jacket for him.

“Alright, I’m going,” Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.

He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t forget to—” Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.

“Um,” says Charlie.

“Holy shit,” says Tony.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, “I u-uh— I-I d-didn’t mean—“

Davey doesn’t respond. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to—he’s frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, “gottagoseeyoulaterbye,” and bolts out the front door.

Davey’s not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.

“Davey?” Charlie asks hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes it’s coming from him.

"...What just happened?"