#I feel like in this AU- Gabe still ran away from home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crow-talks-hockey · 2 years ago

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Killing Strangers - an Avalanche mob AU from multiple POVs (Mikko, Nate, and Cale) pt 3

Mikko tried to calm his nerves. Just be okay. Just be okay and we’ll get you safe. He ran a hand shakily through his curls, anxiously pacing back and forth. Gabe laid a hand on his shoulder and Mikko stopped, turning to him with worried eyes. “He’ll be alright, Mikko. Everything’s gone to plan so far, Artturi can handle himself, you know that.”

Mikko swallowed thickly and nodded. Gabe was right. He shouldn’t be too worried. Artturi was scrappy, not exactly strong but he could slip away pretty easily if it came down to that. Mikko exhaled loudly and stood still, fiddling with his hands and picking absently at his skin. “I know. I know, it’s just… I don’t want him hurt,” confessed Mikko, trying to keep his gaze on the wall ahead and not darting every which way, searching for Artturi’s small figure.

“I know the feeling,” agreed Gabe as he readjusted his suit button and smoothed down his tie. “This is necessary for us, though. He’s giving us valuable leverage, you understand that, right?”

“Of course. I don’t doubt your plans, it’s just difficult being away from him so much. Always is,” Mikko reminded his boss plainly.

Before Gabe could say anything else, Mikko was moving forward. Artturi was walking down the alleyway cautiously, looking around slowly with his hands in his denim jacket. It was Mikko’s loud footsteps that alerted him and immediately Artturi’s face snapped to him and broke into a smile. Mikko crashed into him, lifting the fellow Finn in an embrace. Mikko buried his face into Artturi’s neck and laughed. He set Artturi down gently. “Hi,” he greeted sheepishly.

Arturri’s teeth flashed white over his lips in a grin, he playfully shoved Mikko away. “Hi.”

Mikko jabbed back at him, and managed to mess up Artturi’s sheaf of hair over his eyes. Artturi shot him an annoyed look and he pushed back his thin, blonde hair so that it didn’t fall into his eyes. He readjusted his jacket, blushing faintly. “Senkin ääliö,” he muttered in Finnish.

Mikko sighed and responded back, “Ah, mutta minä olen ääliösi.”

Artturi rolled his eyes and pulled Mikko closer to him, looking up into his starkly blue eyes with adoring curiosity. He’d always reminded Mikko of a cat, or rather, possibly a kitten. “Exactly,” Artturi admitted, switching to English.

Mikko felt himself leaning down, everything else around him becoming nothing more than TV static. Before anything more could happen, however, Gabe interrupted. “Excuse me, lovebirds, but we have places to be. This is no safe place, I’m sure you’re both aware.”

Mikko pursed his lips and shrugged apologetically at Artturi. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

Gabe nodded, eyes glinting with something faintly untouchable. “That’s what I figured,” he boasted. “I have my own man to get home to.”

“Oh, you mean the one you pissed off? That one?” Mikko gave Artturi a sly grin, letting him in on the fun. Artturi may be quiet and gentle, but he could chirp along just fine.

Artturi gasped falsely, “Oh, Gabe. Are you just jealous?”

Gabe climbed into the front seat and started the engine of the car, it rumbled to life and Mikko held the door open for Artturi to sit in the middle beside him. Gabe scoffed, offended, “What? No. And I didn’t piss him off.”

“Oh yes you did too. Why else would he not come along?” Mikko implored, still light-hearted.

“Because he’s busy sulking around at me doing my job. We argued, but it isn’t my fault he’s taking it way too personally. And sure, maybe I did bite his head off just a bit…” Gabe trailed off and shook his head. The defeat was evident in his silence.

Artturi smirked and tapped Mikko’s shoulder. “There it is.”

“Just apologize,” suggested Mikko.

Gabe turned the car out onto the road and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “He won’t accept just that. The man holds a grudge like hell,” Gabe sighed.

Mikko met eyes with Artturi, gaze dark with something eerily close to desire. “I know what else he’d accept…”

“Mikko!” Gabe exclaimed with a shocked laugh.

Mikko brushed his fingers along Artturi’s jawline and the Finn blushed a deep pink, his mouth just barely agape and his head tilted at an imploring angle. “What?” questioned Mikko innocently, eyes so warm with love he wondered if Artturi might actually melt. “I know it works on Arsi,” Mikko continued, hardly aware he was even speaking.

Artturi giggled, and before finally pulling him in agreed, “Yeah, it does.”

Mikko leaned back against the plastic of the door, it dug uncomfortably into his shoulder blades. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Artturi had always been a gentle lover, nothing was ever harsh and aggressive with him. He was just… kind. Mikko adored it. Their job was a hard one, and even Mikko found himself hungering for revenge and violence more than he liked to admit. Unlike him, Artturi stayed level-headed; he did the job that was required, but his hands stayed soft and loving.

Mikko felt the denim and thick stitches of Artturi’s jacket, the way the clothing folded as he moved to hold Mikko’s head in his hands. Mikko grasped Artturi by his torso, pulling him ever so slightly upward as he pressed his forehead against his. Artturi grinned, pushing back stray curls from Mikko’s face. Mikko gave him one last short kiss, and then laid his head on top of Artturi’s. He closed his eyes, embracing the silence.

Gabe eyed them through the car’s front mirror, but didn’t say anything. Artturi winced, drawing Mikko’s attention. “What?”

“Nothing, the seatbelt…” Artturi searched for the word but came up blank, “thing is digging into my hip.” He moved himself off Mikko’s thigh and sat close beside him, nestling into Mikko’s chest as he threw his arm around Artturi.

The drive back was pretty long, dark, and quiet. Mikko didn’t mind the silence, it was calming. They were on the outskirts of the city, far out from where any dangerous gangs lay. He thought of how they’d gotten here as the buildings and streets passed by in a haze.

Artturi had needed to come up with false information to get back home from his stay with the Lightning. He’d been under a false name, of course, acting as a lowly Avalanche member ready to sell them out for better cash, which the Lightning were happy to provide. For almost two months, Artturi had been known as a spy for the Lightning. He’d made trips to and from their territories, coming back from the Avalanche with just enough of what the Lightning wanted to keep up the ruse. All the while, he’d been collecting intel on the Lightning, sneaking around in the shadows to follow the bigger pawns in their game when he couldn’t get access to meetings for confidentiality. Gabe had come up with the idea, and surprisingly, everyone had come out almost unscathed. Mikko found it hard to believe. They had information, leverage. Sure, they’d lost some valuables and cash to it, but it had gone as planned. Part of him felt eerily uneasy at that.

Maybe this was too good to be true. Artturi opened his eyes and looked up at him, brows slightly furrowed. Mikko exhaled a breath, his chest tight. Something felt wrong. “What?” Artturi questioned.

“Were you followed?” Mikko asked.

“I… no. Why? I’m more careful than that, you know that.”

“Gabe,” called Mikko, getting his boss’ attention at the tone of his voice, “pull over.”

“Why?” began Gabe slowly.

He was cut off by Mikko’s exasperated sigh, “Just do it.”

Gabe’s brows rose, but he obliged and the car came to a gravelly halt. Mikko got out of the car and observed his surroundings. It was dark, the neighborhood of apartments and small businesses that lay just outside the city’s heart quiet. Mikko paused, pursing his lips as he waited. He could taste the faint salt in the air as he ran his tongue across his lips in waiting. He slowly grasped the blade at his hip, his hand hesitating on the handle.

Then, out of the shadows three figures in suit and tie appeared. One of them was tall, big in stature like Mikko, with a scraggly beard and deep brown hair. His hands were tattooed with deep shooting streaks of lightning and his eyes were a cold enough blue that they stood out even in the dark. Beside him, in the middle, stood a slightly shorter man with blonde hair— almost like Artturi’s, but cut shorter. He smiled politely, his stance relaxed and calm. On the right of him was another brown haired man, he looked younger than the other two, maybe Mikko’s age. His hair was curly and went down his neck, about to his shoulders. His face was pale, his mouth stern set, his eyes focused intently. Part of him reminded Mikko of a large cat, just waiting for the signal to pounce. Each of them wore suits in varying shades of blue, white, and black.

Mikko tensed, staring the three down with threatening intensity. Bolts, Mikko registered faintly. He cracked the tension out of his neck, folding his hands in front of him. They stood there, silently squaring each other up for several moments. Suddenly, the tall man on the left came forward. Mikko was quick to draw his blade from its sheath, the steel hissed and glinted in the muted lamplight.

The man in the middle held up a hand, tsking loudly as he shook his head. “No, no. Don’t you worry, we aren’t here to fight.” His voice turned dark with a premonition, “Not yet, at least.”

The man with the rings and tattooed hands, held out something white and glaring. A… note? Mikko assumed, perplexed. Slowly, Mikko took the paper from his hand and the man said, Scandinavian accent thick, “We see you soon. Have a nice day.”

They turned away and had disappeared into the shadows before Mikko could say another word. Mikko stepped back abruptly, fingers already moving to tear apart the envelope. He scrambled into the car, taking his seat beside Artturi and slamming the door shut. Before he or Gabe could ask a thing, Mikko’s face paled and he cursed, “Shit…”

“What?” Gabe implored, voice heavy with concern.

Mikko held open the unfolded paper in his lap, letting it fall halfway out of his grip.

They have me.

Nate’s handwriting. The page was smeared with old blood and graphite. Mikko could barely think, he said the words without knowing, “They have Nate. They— the Lightning have Nate.”

Oh, they’d royally fucked up this one.

***

Nate slowly blinked awake, taking in his surroundings as his eyes unblurred and refocused. There was a cuff around his left wrist, and it was attached to a cold wall. Where the hell was he? The room was grey, barren, and painfully lit with bright fluorescent light. His neck stung… had he been drugged? Seriously? Could he not catch a break? Fatigue tugged at the edges of his mind, dimming his ability to think or register anything. The last thing he remembered was coming out of Pavel’s place to get some fresh air with Cale. Then… then what? He couldn’t articulate the memories.

Nate stood, hissing in a breath as he leg buckled and the cuff tore into his wrist. This was not good, to say the least. He needed to get out. Nate looked to the ceiling and around the floor for any vents or windows, anything. The only thing was a large opening in the ceiling, its grate had been removed and was letting in flowing gusts of air. Nate cursed under his breath. He couldn’t reach it even if his legs were good. Nate sat down in a thump again on the rickety mattress. Outside the room— or rather, cell— voices were barely audible. They weren’t close, however, and Nate suspected screaming or clawing at the door would do no good. He was trapped here, and it was for a reason. Nate was leverage now.

Nate thought through the long list of enemies he had; which ones were in correlation with the Lightning and those that may have received word of him ruffling the feathers of other gangs. Even cutting it down to that left a large number of groups, not just singular people, but entire gangs of angry people. Nate rubbed at his eyes, he should have figured this would happen. He’d just gotten healed enough to start working again, and he had picked up right where he left off. He’d raided warehouses, tortured men that Gabe wanted information from. He’d been the rabid dog, nipping at the heels of those that wanted him dead. This was the repercussion for his actions, though Nate wouldn’t dare regret anything he’d done. If the Lightning wanted war, he’d give it to them on a silver platter with no questions asked.

Nate cracked his knuckles and laid his head against the cinderblock wall. He just hoped Cale was alright. He’d been with the twenty-four year old when he’d been taken, and he could only assume that might mean he was here too. God, Nate hoped not. A familiar anxiety tightened his chest as the realization that he could have put Cale in danger again. He exhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm his out of control nerves. He’s fine. He can handle himself, Nate reassured himself, He’s probably out looking for you. He’ll be— He’ll be okay.

It was the creak of the metal door that tore Nate from his worries. Nate froze and looked at the face in the doorway. He titled his head to the side inquisitively, lips drawn in a thin line of hatred. The man before him had ruddy brown curls and beard, and his eyes were a deep coffee brown. His cheeks were reddened, not quite like Cale’s, but similar. He was average height, maybe an inch or so taller than Nate was. He wore a red suit and a black vest, complemented by a stark white button-up. Nate’s words were a growl, “Larkin.”

The boss of the Red Wings flashed a bright smile, familiar and close. “Nate. How have you been? I assume you’ve been well; bodies are piling up at my doorstep because of you.”

Nate laughed, cruel and bitter, “Yeah. I’ve been good.”

Larkin stepped closer to Nate, studying his tired and injured features with plain curiosity. He breathed the barest laugh, shoulders shrugging. It seemed to say, Oh how far you’ve fallen. He spoke candidly, “You know, there was a time when we really could have used this you. A time when you could have picked up good cash, too. A shame it had to come to this, truly. But, I’ve waited a long time to capture the Näken’s wild dog, so how can I complain? You are quite valuable.”

Nate felt his cheeks heat with anger, but he stayed still. He didn’t enjoy being talked about like an object. Larkin snapped his fingers towards Nate, and two other Red Wings came into the room. One held Nate’s right shoulder with an iron grip as the other undid the cuff at his other hand. They forced him to his feet and then threw him down before Larkin, holding him still. Nate fought them, as that was only instinct, but he was too tired from pain and whatever it was they’d drugged him with to make any good moves against them. His attempts were futile, and Larkin seemed to delight in his frustrated screaming. Nate shook back the stray strands of hair from his face and glared at the man before him, his teeth bared in disgust.

Larkin crouched down, drawing a dagger from his suit, it glinted in the fluorescent light. Nate glanced at it, eyes glinting pridefully despite his predicament. Dare me, urged Nate. Let’s just get this shit over with.

Larkin grabbed Nate’s face with his hand and tilted it this way and that, the blade pressing lightly against his jawline. Nate scowled, pushing away the urge to just bite his hand in retaliation. Larkin hummed under his breath, examining him closely. “I see why they run from you. You’re excellently built, Gabe is lucky to have you as an asset. Well, he was.” Larkin’s brows rose and he noted, “And you have a startling lack of scars for the kind of work you do. You must be better than we thought. It’s a shame that we have to ruin it, I don’t like wasting talent the likes of yours. But, a job is a job. I’ll get what I want— that being a healthy amount of money—, and you… you’ll suffer.”

With that, Larkin drew his blade up and across Nate’s face and abruptly stood. He removed his white pocket square and cleaned the bloody dagger. Nate barely even hissed in a breath at the familiar feeling. Larkin nodded, impressed. Casually, he readjusted his suit and cleared his throat before expressing, “I’ll be back, I’m sure you know.”

Nate smirked. Of course you will be.

Larkin laughed, amused at Nate’s resourcefulness. “I just had to make sure you could even bleed,” he admitted, and then turned and was gone.

The men beside him released him and Nate fell to his elbows, his head pounding and ears ringing as blood slowly streamed down his face. Dimly, he heard the men walk away scoffing and the door slammed shut. Nate was shaky, and what felt like all of his energy had been used in staying upright and attentive to the situation. He laid his hands behind his head, trying to feel the texture of his hair to calm himself. He thought of Cale’s warm smile, of him pulling Nate in, of his loving eyes. What if they’d hurt him? What if Cale hadn’t been able to escape and he was here? No, no if he was here Larkin would have already used him as leverage to get Nate to give him what he wanted. Or rather, what the Lightning wanted. Larkin only wanted the money that came from capturing and torturing him.

Nate stared at the concrete, mouth agape as he fought for breath. Come on, Nate. Get it together. He’s fine. You— you’re fine. You’re going to get out of here and you’ll both be just fine. Just focus on getting the hell out of here. But how? How? Nate shook his head to himself. This wasn’t something he just got out of, the only escape was death. He had no options. He was weak. He was hurt. He was in need of saving. Either he died or someone else was going to, either way it was too complicated for him to accomplish right now.

Nate forced himself to breathe and get to his feet. He laid down on the tattered mattress, laying an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the blinding light. His heart was sinking, and tiredness set in next to sadness. Nate was both feeling so much and so little, it was unfathomable. He wanted home, he wanted Cale. He wanted to see Landy and EJ, to laugh with them. He wanted to go out with JT, Mikko, and the others. Nate turned to face the wall and closed his eyes. A part of him even wanted to see Sid again. His old mentor, the one that had taught him so much even though he hadn’t joined his gang. He would kill to just sit around with the people he loved, to be near and close to them.

Nate listened to the buzzing of the light. The Red Wings probably loved seeing him like this; unarmed and with no one to hold close. Nate almost laughed. Maybe that was the real punishment that Larkin was giving. Nate could take blades, bullets, punches, and any kind of pain, but this? Being alone? That was something Nate hated more than he cared to admit. He missed the support of his friends and of Cale, the way they never questioned how he clinged to them. Tiredness tugged at Nate’s thoughts, and before he knew it the world had gone dark and sleep had taken him. He slept dreamlessly and with an empty feeling in his chest.

***

It was the night when Artturi was supposed to return that Cale had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He’d let Nate go. They’d been in a meeting, with EJ leading in Gabe’s absence, and planning out their next move against the Lightning. They needed to make allies, and they were currently working on negotiations with a close by neighbor of the Lightning: the Hurricanes. It had been a stressful two months, and this meeting was even more tense than usual. So, Nate and Cale had stepped out of Pavel’s place to get some fresh air. They had just stood, holding hands, against the brick wall as they simply existed together.

Then, pain had exploded in Cale’s skull and his knees had buckled. He’d wanted to stand up and fight, so bad. He had wanted to help Nate. But he’d only watched Nate throw helpless blows at his much larger opponents through blurring eyes as the darkness pulled him deep into unconsciousness. He’d seen Nate go limp in one of the man’s holds as the other drugged him with a needle and the last thing Cale had registered was the face of his broken watch. A reminder of what he could not do, of why he was here in the first place. His brother.

His brother was why he was here, or rather, the way he’d failed his brother was why he was here. They had been much younger when it had happened, Cale maybe sixteen and Taylor about fourteen. They’d been stupid, and it had cost them. One night they had decided to plan a heist. It was supposed to be simple, something just for fun. They had a neighbor, a rich neighbor, and around town he’d been known for being a watch collector. He fixed them, sold them, bid for them, loved them more than anything— as his wife had passed away before either of them had been alive.

He and Taylor had worked their routes, gotten their angles, and eventually everything had gone to plan. They’d managed to steal what they wanted without much trouble, that being two watches with one for each of them to fence. It had been oddly quiet afterward, but neither of them had worried much about the fact that Mr. Howe had never reported anything missing to authorities. Taylor and Cale had celebrated their cleverness, enjoying the reward of their crime. Well, they had until the fateful evening in March when they’d been walking back from school. Three men, still bearing the traces of boyhood in their features— they couldn’t have been older than twenty— had appeared in the street and dragged them to the alley.

Cale still hated himself for not defending them both. He’d taken every punch, every cut, everything they had and he had done nothing. It had gone so fast. He’d watched Taylor crumple to the concrete against the wall as one of the men stabbed his blade into his side and the other yanked the watch off Taylor’s wrist. Then the third man had thrown Cale beside him, and— as he saw the watch at Cale’s own wrist shatter into worthlessness— he abandoned ship. The men had only laughed, examining Mr. Howe’s watch and remarked to each other how much they’d be paid for recovering the old man’s valuables.

Cale had cried like a child that day, sobbing uncontrollably as he watched Taylor’s body go cold and his eyes glaze over. “I’m sorry,” was the last thing his brother said.

Cale still wasn’t sure how many hours he’d clung to Taylor’s body, pleading for him to do the impossible thing and wake up. The night had passed and by the next morning, the authorities were prowling the town with loud sirens. They must have been searching for him, probably because of his parents, but Cale did not want to be found. So, Cale had done the unfathomable: he’d let Taylor go, stood, and left him.

He’d run as far as he could, as fast as he could and eventually his running had brought him crawling directly to a Swedish man named Gabriel Landeskog’s doorstep. It was there that he’d joined the Avalanche. And it was there that he’d learned that Mr. Howe was an old boss of the Red Wings gang, and that those boys were competing to get in. It was there that he met the young, stubborn, and blood-thirty Nathan MacKinnon. It was there that Cale decided he would never make the mistake of not defending those he loved again, but it was also where he decided he would never rob someone of their family again— even if they had none.

Ever since Cale had done his job under the contract that he would not kill a man. And he did his job well. He made the impact he wanted and left it at that, keeping the shattered watch he’d stolen as an eternal reminder. He never took it off except to sleep. It was the only thread of peace he had left. It was Taylor’s ghost, keeping him in line. Cale was paying his penance in living, breathing blood.

Now, Cale had again failed his brother. He had made the exact same mistake with Nate as he had with Taylor. Nate could be dead, and it was his fault. It was his fault all because Cale couldn’t muster the strength to just stay conscious and fight for him. He was just as weak as he’d been in that alley years ago. Time had moved on, but Cale was stuck in place.

Cale opened his eyes, flexing his hands against the concrete and wincing as a piece of broken glass poked at his skin. He stood, and watched as Gabe’s car pulled up to Pavel’s. What was he going to tell them? How was he going to tell them? He dusted off his suit, ignoring the blinding pain in his skull. He felt the back of his neck, it was sticky with dried blood.

Gabe was quick to storm out of the car, Mikko and Artturi— Cale breathed a sigh of relief, at least Artturi was okay— followed close behind. Gabe froze at the sight of Cale, his face paling. “Cale,” he breathed in relief, “you’re okay. That’s good. I— I have something to tell you.”

Cale’s brows furrowed. “Of course I’m okay… I was just about to tell you something, too.”

Gabe peered close at Cale, stepping forward to examine him. He patted Cale’s arms, and motioned for him to come inside with them. “You don’t look okay. Let’s get inside, shall we?”

They filed inside and got their seats, Gabe pushing EJ away urgently when he tried to greet him. Gabe did not sit, he leaned over the table, head bowed. He motioned for Cale to speak first. Cale swallowed thickly, trying to clear his head. “Nate—” his voice broke and he closed his eyes. Get it together. Cale tried again, “Nate’s gone.”

Gabe, Mikko, and Artturi’s heads snapped up. They looked to and from each other and Cale gave them a confused glance. Did they know something he didn’t? Without a word, Mikko reached into his suit pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. He slid it slowly to Cale, looking guilty. Cale’s expression softened. It was Nate’s writing. He was alive.

“H—How?” stammered Cale, “Where?”

“We don’t know,” admitted Gabe. “Three Bolts showed up and gave it to Mikko. Nate could be long gone by now, and we don’t know who might be allied with them. They wouldn’t send him to someone obvious. We’re in the dark here. That means they want something, and… and if they don’t get it we all know what they’ll do to him.”

“So how the hell do we find him?” Cale snapped, exasperated.

Gabe hung his head and shrugged. The room was tense with silence, everyone thinking about the situation they were in. Nate meant something to all of them here. He was a friend, a son, a lover. Artturi spoke up softly, “We may have more leverage than you think.”

Collectively, everyone seemed to come alive at that. Gabe nodded for Artturi to continue.

“I— I spent a lot of time with them. They liked hearing me give them information on us, little secrets in the alleys, warehouses, and whatnot. In turn, they let me make runs to some of their allies. The secret ones, ones they made just because they are our enemies. I also did some of my own research, sneaking around when they sent me off. I think I could narrow down some searches, if that would help,” offered the Finn. “I know some guys that might talk, too.”

“Yes, please,” sighed Cale. “I… I can’t lose him again.”

Artturi nodded curtly and he stood, peering at the map of the city. He picked up a pen and began to scribble, pointing here and there at the marked territories. Every once in a while he’d explain who ran a warehouse, how occupied a building was, the security in the area. They spent until past noon of the next day just running over plans over and over again. Gabe would send out men to go and search, others would run to their own allies and make negotiations. Cale helped debrief the men Artturi suggested as malleable and manipulable.

Light filtered in through the huge, decorative windows of Pavel’s place. Cale was only vaguely aware of time and its passing. The others had brought food a couple hours ago, and then a few had gone on break so— Cale closed his eyes in thought— it might have been around four. Tiredness was making his eyes sting, and staring at a computer or a book hadn’t helped either. He was fatigued, stressed, and in dire need of caffeine despite already having plenty. Gabe laid a hand on his shoulder and Cale’s breath caught as he flinched. Gabe looked royally unimpressed.

“You should go and get some sleep. You aren’t doing us any good doing—” Gabe motioned wildly at Cale’s messy notebooks and the several open tabs of his almost dead computer— “whatever this is. You’re getting sloppy and unhelpful.”

Cale gave Gabe an offended look. “I am not getting sloppy.” He rubbed at his eyes, his hair completely mussed out of control. He held up one of his notebooks pridefully in Gabe’s face. “I’m helping, see? I can’t sleep anyway, I’m too busy worrying over Nate. Every moment we spend resting is a moment where he could be laying dead on the floor of some abandoned warehouse. I can’t let that happen. I thought you would understand.”

Gabe shook his head and gently sat down Cale’s notes. He heaved Cale to his feet and immediately Cale’s vision blurred. He blinked rapidly, eyes watering and head buzzing. Cale’s grip tightened around Gabe’s forearm as he swayed slightly. Maybe he should have gotten up and stretched. Oh yeah, and he probably should have eaten something and had water, too. That would be good. Cale’s throat felt like it was coated with wool and absently his stomach growled. Definitely needed food and water. Good idea, Cale, he praised himself. Thanks, Cale.

“I do understand. But you need sleep, you should see yourself. I’ve never seen someone with eye bags as bad as yours. You look awful,” expressed Gabe.

Cale hung his head, he knew Gabe was probably right, and even if he wasn’t Cale wasn’t going to win the argument. Gabe was too stubborn for that, Nate must have gotten it from him. Cale sauntered over to the stairs and hesitated on the railing post. “Fine. Just don’t let me sleep too long. I can’t miss anything.”

Gabe grinned. “Of course,” he said, though both he and Cale knew that Gabe would let Cale sleep to his heart's content anyway. There was no way in hell Gabe was going to force Cale to wake up because of a lead that might run dry anyway.

Cale could barely even heave himself up the stairs to the next floor. There weren’t sleeping areas on this floor, but as Cale looked up the next set of stairs he thought to himself, Screw it. So, he settled for picking an office to crash in. He moved down the hallway, looking for a good room. He found one at the end of the hall and quickly made his new home on the couch. Sleep hit him like a truck, and within moments Cale was out like a light.

It was Valeri’s kind features that he awoke to, with the big Russian gently nudging him into consciousness. Cale had red marks on his arms from how his skin had stuck to the leather for too long and his cheeks were flushed. He groaned, trying to force his mind to rise with him. “How long have I been out?”

Val smiled warmly and helped Cale to his feet. “Day and a half or so. Do you need water?”

Cale swallowed thickly, cringing at how desert-dry his throat felt. “Yes,” he replied all too quickly. Val handed him a cold bottle and Cale drank longly. “Thank you.”

“Gabe wants you. We have something.”

Hope leaped in Cale’s chest and he grinned. He was quick to follow Val down the stairs, and he was at Gabe’s side within moments. His boss eyed him, silently giving him an I told you so. Cale ignored him. He did feel better. That was beside the point, if they had a shot at finding Nate Cale was going to take it. He wasn’t going to abandon him.

“We have a guy,” Gabe announced. “It turns out your scribbles were helpful. Mikko and Kurtis are going to bring him in tonight. Hopefully he’ll talk.”

Cale nodded. “That’s good. Is he from the Lightning?”

“Yeah. Mid-level guy, we might have to do more than just offer him cash to get him to talk, but I assume you have no problem with a little bit of bloodshed. Given that this is important, especially to you.”

Something dark settled into Cale’s expression. He looked at the watch on his wrist, the way it ticked on helplessly out of rhythm. He thought of Taylor laying in the alley alone. He thought of Nate, screaming out with no one to save him from an inescapable fate. He stared at the messy map and the notebooks filled with information that lay next to files on other gangs. Part of him wanted to laugh. No, he did not mind bloodshed at all, he decided. Not when it came to Nate. Cale covered the face of his watch and looked at Gabe. “Of course not,” he agreed, hating how candid his voice sounded.

Cale saw Gabe’s jaw tick, his lips pressed into a thin line as he fought not to smile. He patted Cale’s back and ran a hand through his strawberry blonde hair. “Good man,” complimented Gabe and he turned to leave. “I’ll see you back here tonight.”

“See you,” Cale replied back.

He sat down, pulling a sketch of the man closer. He stared at the notes and the drawings longly. He closed his eyes and set down his head. Cale fiddled with his hands, unable to stop the anxious feeling from tightening his chest and making him feel breathless. He rubbed his temples, reaching over the table to grab a scone from the middle of the table. He needed to distract himself. Worrying was doing him no good. All he could do was hope that the man would talk, and that Nate was still alive.

Cale doodled on an empty page of his leather-bound notebook absently. He sketched Nate’s familiar profile, trying not to be utterly saddened by how much he missed him. Aggressively, he erased the start of his drawing and redrew the circle for Nate’s head. He exhaled, thinking of Nate in his mind’s eye. Cale embraced the silence, clearing the worry from his mind and focusing solely on the task at hand. He sketched Nate’s blade-like nose, his stubborn jawline. He smiled as he penciled in Nate’s slightly wavy hair that was currently in need of a cut. Cale set down his pencil and brushed over the graphite with his thumb, blending out the color slightly over Nate’s imaginary cheek. He sighed, the emptiness of the room bleeding into his lonely heart. The second he looked away from the paper, Nate disappeared again.

Cale was alone here. Maybe forever. Nate was nothing but lead on parchment.

The sun was beginning to set, golds and pinks from the sky filtering into the large, intricate room. The sun coated the tall pillars and maroon walls in an orange hue. Cale sat at the table, completely in the center of it all, his hair illuminated into a chestnut color. Cale outstretched his hand to the middle of the table, reaching for the sun’s warmth. Specks of dust floated up in the air from his books and maps. Cale drew back his hand and eyed the scone beside him. He stood, appetite having been lost to his focus minutes ago. Cale slipped on his grey plaid suit jacket after removing it from the edge of his chair. He ran a hand through his hair and readjusted his storm colored tie. Cale turned away and abandoned the paper profile of Nate, the stale scone, and the bright setting sun. There was work to be done.

Cale was finally ready to do what was necessary.

#colorado avalanche #avs lb #cale makar #nathan mackinnon #mikko rantanen #artturi lehkonen #gabriel landeskog #hrpf #mens hockey rpf #829 #6296 #692 #ooooo we're getting close to the climax people #i'm excited to write it lol #my writers block is finally no more :3 #idk when to expect the next part tho #we'll see how much i wanna give y'all at a time #it's about to get hella intense #anyways hope you enjoyed ok bye

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anotherspnfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Overloaded

Pairing: Dr Dean x nurse reader

Word count: 1584

Warnings: minor injury

Squares filled: Hospital AU for @spndeanbingo and Doctor AU for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me a Story Bingo

Summary: Working too many hours and being short handed leads to a breaking point.

~~~

Gabe pushed the wheelchair off the elevator into the ED. She bit her lip to muffle her whimper as the small bump jostled her foot. “Sorry,” Gabe murmured as he wheeled her towards the nurses station. “Hey, Charlie, you got an open room? She needs an x-ray.”

Charlie turned to see who Gabe was referring to. “Oh, what happened?” she asked, seeing the pain on her friend’s face.

Before either of them could explain, Dean came out of an exam room and spotted her. “My nurses are not supposed to be in wheelchairs. Especially not my favorite one,” he said as he walked over and squatted down to her level. He noticed her puffy eyes as he carefully pulled up the pant leg on her elevated foot. He echoed Charlie’s question, “What happened, sweetheart?”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead as she glanced at the floor. “I missed a step, or maybe two. I landed wrong on my ankle. I'm pretty sure it’s broken. It hurts a lot.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he stood and moved to take over Gabe’s position. “Okay, let's get you checked out.”

“Exam 4 is open,” Charlie said.

Dean turned to Gabe as he pushed her toward the room. “Can you go grab the portable x-ray and 25 mcg fentanyl, please?”

Once they were in the exam room, Dean offered his hand to help her stand on her good leg. He leaned over and lifted her carefully and then set her on the bed. She tried not to whine as the movement sent pain shooting up her leg. “Damn it. This sucks,” she said.

He situated the bed so she was laid nearly flat and got her foot elevated on a couple pillows. “1-10—how’s the pain?” Dean asked, as he tossed a blanket over her.

“Uhh, about a 6.”

Dean nodded. “Gabe should be back with the pain meds in a minute. So, you missed a step?” he asked as he started to check her vitals.

“Yeah, I was playing with my phone and I missed it,” she explained. He gave her a skeptical look.

Before he could say anything more, Gabe appeared and handed Dean a syringe. “I figured you’d want that first. I’ll be right back with the x-ray.”

Dean finished recording her temp and BP, then pushed the sleeve of her scrubs up her shoulder and cleaned a spot with an alcohol wipe. “Little pinch,” he warned. “Babe, you can maneuver all the stairs in this building backwards, hands full, and with your eyes closed. You sure you just missed it?” he asked.

She broke eye contact as she contemplated her answer carefully, knowing he could tell when she was lying. “No,” she mumbled. “I might have been a little dizzy, too.”

He reached his index finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “Any guesses why you were dizzy?”

She pulled away enough to drop her gaze back down to the bed and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Low blood sugar, maybe? Probably,” she mumbled the last word. She fiddled with the corner of the blanket almost nervously, not wanting to see the disappointment and concern on his face.

He hummed. “So you didn’t miss a step. You fainted?”

She sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”

“Have you eaten anything since the granola bar I brought you,” he paused to check his watch, “five hours ago?”

She shook her head and pulled the barely-touched bar from her pocket. “I got busy and then I forgot it was there.”

“What about water? Have you been drinking?” he probed. She simply shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. “So you’re probably dehydrated, too.”

She shrugged.

He sighed. “You really have got to take better care of yourself. I love how much you care for everyone around you, but you have to come first once in a while. Otherwise, you won’t be able to help anyone.”

“I just get so busy that I forget sometimes.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “We are going to work on that.”

Before she could add anything, Gabe pushed the x-ray into the room, and within a few minutes, they had all the images they needed of her ankle.

“Definitely very broken,” Dean stated. “Gabe, can you run a CBC and BMP and then start an IV of normal saline while I go page Sammy, please?”

“You got it, boss.”

“Wait!” she yelled before he could disappear out the door. “Why are you paging Sam?”

He turned back to face her. “Did you hit your head, too? You broke your ankle; we need an ortho consult. That would be Sam.”

She let out a frustrated groan as Dean left.

Gabe patted her shoulder before wrapping the tourniquet around her arm. “Maybe try not falling down the stairs next time.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away from what he was doing. “Oh, my god. Why didn’t I think of that?!”

He finished the blood draw and got the IV set up. Next, he carefully fluffed the pillows under her foot to ensure it was elevated enough. “You are all set. Do you need anything else right now?”

“Not unless you have a time machine.”

“A day do-over? Let’s see.” Gabe snapped his fingers and then spun around. “Damn. It was worth a shot.”

She tried to contain her smile as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks for trying, I guess.”

Ten minutes later, she was dozing off when Dean returned with Sam close behind. Dean ran a comforting hand over her head to ensure she was awake.

Sam took a few minutes to read over the x-rays. He turned away from the light board and walked over to the foot of the bed. “Unstable bimalleolar fracture,” he stated as he inspected her ankle. “You just bought yourself surgery and a vacation.”

“No way,” she blurted. “I can’t. We’re already short staffed.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not exactly optional. Good news, though: the swelling isn’t too bad yet, I happen to be free in 45 minutes, and you haven’t eaten anything in hours. So we can do this today.”

Charlie joined them to give Dean her lab results. He turned to address her. “Just like I thought: mild dehydration and your blood sugar is at 58.” Dean flipped through the info again before handing it over to Sam. “Okay. So I’ll add glucose to her IV and get her up to pre-op.”

“Perfect. Make sure you keep her foot elevated.”

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Do you think this is my first day?”

Sam shrugged. “Just making sure, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled quietly.

Sam turned his attention back to her. “I’ll see you soon, Shortie. I’ll getcha all fixed up. Sound like a plan?”

She gave him a lazy thumbs up. “Thanks, Gigantor.”

“Can you send Gabe back in here on your way past?” Dean requested. Sam simply nodded as he turned to leave.

Dean returned his focus to her. “How’s the pain now?”

She scrunched up her nose as she considered her answer. “Um, about one and a half.” She laughed at herself.

“That’s good. I see you’re loopy, too.”

She scowled at him. “You’re loopy.”

He just shook his head. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Gabe returned and Dean gave him the med order and asked him to take her up to the OR.

“You’re not coming up?” She pouted.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll be there when you wake up, though, I promise.” He took her hand and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles.

As if on cue, Charlie leaned into the room. “Dean, trauma incoming. MVA car vs pedestrian. Ambo is two minutes out.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a second.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before he turned to leave. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Roughly three hours later, Sam found Dean in the lounge pouring a cup of coffee. He nodded and offered over the now-full cup.

“Thank you.” Sam took a sip of the dark liquid. “We got her all set up in recovery. She should be awake soon.”

“Okay. I’ll head up there in a minute.” Dean took a sip of his own coffee. “Everything went smoothly?”

“I’d have paged you if it hadn’t.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam nodded. “Yes, it went perfectly. It’ll heal up just fine.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

Wandering into her room, he couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful she looked. He placed his hand softly against her cheek, sweeping his thumb slowly over the skin. She nuzzled into the touch as she lazily opened her eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She gave him a goofy smile. “I like when you call me that.”

“I know you do.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.” She yawned. “And I’m starving. Can you bring me some fries?”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad your appetite is back. You get a little more sleep and I’ll bring you fries.”

“And pizza,” she added. Before he could agree, she gasped. “Ice cream!”

“Tell you what: I will get you fries from the cafeteria for you to munch on on the way home and then we can order pizza.”

She pouted as her eyelids started to droop. “What about ice cream?”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he asked, “When do we ever not have ice cream at home?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” She smiled as she finally let herself drift off once more.

~~~

Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @babypieandwhiskey @muchamusedaboutnothing @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

#tell me a story bingo #spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #doctor!dean #doctor!sam #dean one shot #dean winchester #my gif #spn #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction

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daredevile · 5 years ago

Text

Eonian

Summary: (adj.) constant and indefinite; continuing forever

Warnings: Some angst and fluff

A/N: Hey! This one’s for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s writing challenge and I had the prompt ‘Soulmate AU’ - although I kinda strayed away from the conventional soulmate fics. Hope you like it!! [ Sorry if it’s a little depressing. ]

Snow crunches under his muffled footsteps, morphing into little puddles of frost upon the gravel. There's a tinge of an eerie silence lingering beneath the dense fog embracing the city. Alleys he walks past awaken from the timbre of his breathing and the sizzle of flickering street lamps summon their next prey. The city glistens with mirth as blankets of white lay over the gray streets while sunshine peeks between dusky clouds - welcoming bustling passerby.

Snowflakes trickle from the skies above, he tilts his head towards the gloomy heavens; remembering the flashy headline plastered across the morning newspaper - BLIZZARDS ARRIVE AT NEW YORK. But Steve's questioning glance did nothing to stop him from leaving the tower.

Because it's silence he craves - a break from bright neon lights, a restless Times Square and the brash cacophony of mindless chattering. And now, beyond the gusts of winter winds, he listens to the distant whisper of cars rushing down barren roads; preparing for a prolonged slumber during the white season.

The world was different back then - sepia streets, rustic record players and charming souls. He remembers strolling through Coney Island hand-in-hand with a gal he’d charmed earlier that week. He remembers the arid thrill of beer stinging the back of his throat while he laughed the night away with the Commandos. He remembers chasing his sister down the narrow hallways of his home, earning a disapproving chuckle from his mother.

Now, he’s all alone.

Wandering through this foggy maze in search of some nostalgic comfort - a friend. His Ma had told him fables about finding a true soulmate, a perfect match beyond all of the universe. But, the war had stripped him of all those chances.

He squints at the street signs ahead, a heavy feeling stirs in his chest as the buildings emerge from the mist. It looks the same, he thinks. There’s a certain numbness as he relishes all the forgotten memories of euphoria that once held its place in his heart and soul. But all those memories merely sink back into the haze.

The cream-tinted paint is scraped in a few places, bits of brick-red expose themselves to the cool air around. But the walls still held the same meaning, the same bumpy touch he remembers once leaning on as tender lips barely grazed over his own during his teenage days.

It’s different now. Metal bannisters are ice under his fingertips, the creaky ol’ stairs he used to leap from - all fixed. There's an elevator too. Even the dusky fragrance of cigarettes is now replaced by overly sweetened scented candles. Is it Winter Candy? Vanilla Bean? He doesn’t know, merely scrunching his nose while passing the open window of apartment 2B.

Each step he takes echoes beneath him, there's hesitance in his heart as he inches closer to his home. But he doesn't stop.

"Can I help you?"

It's the tone of curiosity, not disgust that lies amidst the words. He snaps his head towards the voice - taken aback by the several bags you were attempting to balance. The keys to your home are lodged between your hands, threatening to slip past your fingers. There's a clear look of frustration on your face as you push the key through the hole - unaware of the cereal boxes tipping against the edge.

It all happens in a flash and within less than a second - Bucky leans forward, catching your belongings before they touch the floor. Cheeks reddening as he realises the close proximity between the two of you, blue eyes darting to the ground.

"Oh, um... sorry."

The door opens and the air in his lungs freezes as he gazes at the apartment. He staggers for a moment before stepping in, slipping into rivers of memories that wash over his mind. His childhood unfolds in front of him - watching noir films on the TV, sneaking out the fire escape at midnight, the delicious aroma of his Ma's cooking seeping from the kitchen.

The movement from one of the rooms snaps him out of his thoughts. He suddenly feels like an intruder, trespassing someone else's reality with his presence. A last look at his old life before he spins on his feet, unwilling to retreat into the chilly -

"Wait! I... uh, have something of yours." It's eagerness beneath your words that surprises him. He meets your kind eyes, lowering his attention to a tattered envelope extended in his direction.

He furrows his eyebrows, brushing his fingertips with yours when he takes the envelope into his cold hands - the jolt of warmth he feels withers quicker than it came. The touch of crinkled paper is rough, he squints at the scrawled letters across the page.

Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes 107th Infantry

---------

The din of glasses smashing together was drowned by hearty laughter and chuckles. Symphonies from the piano dissolved under the pools of tan lighting and the clacking of billiard balls. Morita's off-tune singing trailed in Bucky's head as his downed the foamy beer resting in his glass.

"Oh, that was a magical night alright!" Gabe laughed, dodging a shove from Monty while the rest scoffed, "Gotta say, definitely put that French degree to use."

More groans followed his statement, he continued the descriptive encounter with his soulmate, Bucky chuckled to himself, shaking his head while leaning into the chair.

"That's enough, Jones."

"What about you, Barnes?" Gabe jeered, raising his eyebrows in amusement, "Any... intimate stories?"

Bucky's eyes snapped towards the empty mug in his hand, the smile of his face slowly dropped with a sigh. Flashes of those sweet nights he's shared with a few women ran through his mind. They never truly meant anything. His eyes fell upon Steve in the corner, nervously glancing at Agent Carter while she reported Colonel Phillip's orders. Maybe he had no soulmate.

"I bet Sergeant's had lines of ladies at his doorstep!" Morita piped in, setting off a fit of laughter across the table.

"G'night, soldiers."

Bucky forced a tight-lipped smile to the crowd, sighing in defeat before sending a nod at Steve as he left the bar. The streets were cold, a shiver trickled down his spine at the memories of the frosty Alps - his pace quickened in response.

The shoes were kicked off in an instant. He collapsed onto the springy mattress, shoving his face into the flattened pillow. The dark hands of his clock read 11:13, marking approximately five hours until he departed to England at the crack of dawn.

However, any sleep he tried to obtain slipped within his grasp. Leaning against the stone wall, he stared at his pressed uniform laying atop the wooden desk. Stealing a glimpse at the clock again, he grabbed the finest piece of paper in his house.

Dear Soulmate,

I don't know you. I don't know if I'll ever know you. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. And I never wanted to be alone. All my life I've been told that someone who's perfect for me is out there and I began to search for that person when all I really needed was a friend. Someone who understands me and shows me right from wrong. There were nights where I forgot my problems and gave it all to a stranger. The world is complicated, there's wars, famine and poverty. Everything is unpredictable, it changes in front of my eyes. Call me selfish, but I just need one constant.

I'm not perfect. But for you, I'll do anything. All I ask is for a friend in return. I'll bury my burdens and defeat these demons if I could be with you. They call me Sergeant, and for a few moments, I'm filled with unearned power and honour. But all that doesn't matter to me.

Because without you, I'm just lonely.

Yours truly, Bucky

---------

You watch as he trails over the worn-out letter, his fingers barely gripping the rough edges as he folds it in place.

"It was under one of the floorboards."

His eyes land on yours, a smile tugging on his lips. Carefully placing the letter back into the envelope, he pushes the strands of brown hair from his face.

"Thank you. It means a lot."

The scent of chocolate teases his senses as you place the warm mug in front of him. It reminds him of his mother's wintertime treats - ones he'd only get if he behaved well. He grins at the memory of her mocking tone.

Maybe he's not alone after all.

#ldbcwc #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #soulmate au #marvel #mcu

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beyond-the-mirror · 5 years ago

Text

Drunk uncle Dante explains: Christmas

So recently I watched a very funny video called Drunk uncle explains Christmas and I couldn’t help but think of uncle Dante trying (and failing miserably) to explain Christmas to a very curious little Nero.

In this context, Dante is visiting his parents’ house for the holidays (Eva and Sparda are still alive in this AU) as well as Vergil and his son Nero.

This was written purely for laughs and giggles, so don’t take it too seriously. By the way, this is the video I'm parodying with this short fic if you want to check it out, although I changed a few things to adapt it better for the purpose of this story. It’s in spanish though, but you can turn the subtitles on. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

..........

It was the night before Christmas. A chilly air ran through the ever so active city of Red Grave, which currently had its streets covered in a soft and pristine layer of snow reflecting all the colorful lights that decorated every corner of the city.

People gathered together in their homes to share a most anticipated reunion with their beloved families, mouth-watering food served on their dinning tables to celebrate the holidays, as well as the numerous wrapped presents hidden underneath the Christmas trees ready to be opened.

And of course, the Sparda household was no exception to these festivities.

Tiny hands wandered around a beautifully decorated tree, its fingers feeling around the decorations that sparked curiosity and wonder in the eyes of little Nero. Tucked between the trees branches, a porcelain star caught Nero’s attention, his little fingers reaching out at the trinket. His attempt was interrupted however, when a very loud snore broke the silence that had covered the living room.

Nero turned around searching for the origin of the sound, finding out that it was his uncle Dante who had fallen asleep on the couch nearby.

“Uncle Dante? Uncle Dante, don’t fall asleep yet!”

As small hands nudged the man’s shoulder, Dante slowly woke from his drunken slumber, having already downed a couple of wine bottles (and probably a whiskey one too), though due to his demonic heritage, he only felt a bit tipsy.

“Ummm, c’mon kid... let your uncle sleep for a little longeeer.”

“But uncle Dante, it’s only seven o’ clock. Dinner will be ready any minute now, and we haven’t even opened the presents!”

“Ughh... fine, you’re lucky you’re adorable as hell.”

Dante stretched and yawned while little Nero sat on the carpet, next to the toy train set his grandpa Sparda had set for him early.

“By the way uncle Dante, can you tell me the story of Christmas? Pleeeaaase? You always have the best stories!”

Dante sat silently until he finally relented thanks to the huge puppy eyes his nephew was giving him. “Alright then. But only because I’m the coolest uncle ever right?”

“Yes! The best one too!” Nero giggled enthusiastically, which always warmed his heart to no extent.

“Ok, fetch me that book over there.”

Nero handed the requested book to his uncle, which he proceeded to open and read out loud, starting with the story.

“Alright. Long, long time ago... in the ancient Egypt-”

Nero giggled once again “Silly uncle Dante! Papa says the story took place in Jerusalem.”

“Ok, ok then. So, Mary was doing housework, ironing some clothes because their housekeeper was fired-”

“Like they did to you uncle?”

Dante sighed “No- I wanted to stay at your grandparent’s house for a few days longer, that’s it!”

“You were kicked out of your office because you owed five months worth of rent, you irresponsible imbecile!” Vergil shouted from the studio where he was currently reading.

“Oh shut up Vergil! At least I know what a condom is!” Dante rudely shouted back at his twin before proceeding with the story. “Then, an angel arrived and his name was Gabe. Gabe told Mary not to be afraid because she will have a baby, who will be named Jesus and who will be the son of God. And Mary was cool with that.”

“Wait uncle Dante, how are children born?”

“Well that’s another fun story for another time, but in Mary’s case it was thanks to the Holy Spirit. Not so ‘holy’ tho, considering he messed with Joseph’s wife.” He snorted while a confused Nero tilted his head to the side. “Okay then, Joseph doubted Mary’s virginity, so he demanded a divorce.”

“What does virginity mean?”

“It’s like a hundred dollars bill. If you keep it, it serves no purpose, but if you use it, it’s gone forever. So make sure to spend it well and at the right time!”

“Ohhh I see.” Poor naive Nero, completely oblivious to what his uncle was talking really talking about. “Also, there were divorces at that time?”

“Yep, they were called ‘stonings’“

Little Nero nodded in complete awe at what he perceived, was his uncle’s great knowledge.

“But of course Mary demanded a divorce first, and exclaimed that she was keeping all the money, the car, as well as-”

“Stop mixing stories you buffoon! That happened to you with Lady!” Vergil’s angry voice once again interrupted the story.

“Stop bringing up my personal matters in front of the kid Verge!”

“Scum!”

“You son of a-!”

“Uncle Dante!” Nero’s innocent voice calmed Dante’s nerves, allowing him to take a deep breath and relax.

“Sorry ‘bout that, now where were we? Oh! Well it was the Holy Spirit, and Joseph wanted to take Mary to Las Vegas for their honeymoon... buuut they didn’t have any money, so they settled for Bethlehem instead.”

“There were honeymoons at the time?”

“Of course! You needed lots of money tho... but one day youuu Lady, wait ‘till I hit the jackpot and then you will see!”

“Get over your problems already!” Another exasperated interruption from his twin, Dante surely wasn’t getting any rest.

“Well then. The couple arrived at a cheap hotel room when suddenly, Mary went into labor. And that’s how sweet baby Jesus was born, our Lord and Savior I suppose.”

“Whoaaa...” Dante couldn’t help but feel proud that he managed to keep his nephew entertained with his fun, albeit inaccurate, stories. “Uncle Dante, was Jesus a good person?”

“Good? He was great actually! He could turn water into wine and stuff!”

“Can I drink wine too?”

“Of course! The bible says so after all.” Dante was about to hand his nephew the unfinished bottle of wine he had kept next to the couch when suddenly-

“IF YOU GIVE WINE TO MY SON I SWEAR ON OUR DEMONIC LINEAGE THAT I WILL MUTILATE YOU BEYOND RECOGNITION!”

“Damn it!” As soon as Vergil’s voice entered his ears, he quickly retracted his hand, taking the bottle of wine and putting it as far away as possible from innocent little Nero who jumped at the immense power and fury in his father’s tone.

“Let’s continue with our story. Thus Mary uploaded Jesus’ baby pics to Twitter and the Fairly OddParents star-faved the pics-”

“Nooo uncle Dante! That’s not how the story goes!” Nero laughed wholeheartedly “Papa told me once. The star was up in the sky and they weren’t the Fairly OddParents, they were the Three Wise Men.”

“Okay okay, three men, got it.”

“Three WISE men. And they were kings!”

“Whatever you say kid.”

“And one was black!”

“A bit racist if you ask me.” Dante rolled his eyes and bit back a laugh before continuing. “So, the star told the three wise kings to follow them for God’s sake, literally, and they arrived at the stable where Jesus had been born with gifts for him. One gifted him gold, the other gifted him myrrh-”

“Wait uncle Dante, what is myrrh?”

“Let’s say... it’s a kind of herb.”

“Like the one papa once found under your bed and stabbed you with his blue floating swords for?”

“It was for medicinal purposes I swear!” Dante nervously responded, flustered by his nephew’s sudden question. “Ahem... and the other dude gifted him incense.”

“Why incense, uncle Dante?”

“They were in a stable! You ever been to one? They smell like crap!”

“What about the massacre of children in Bethlehem? Papa also mentione that.”

“Of course! Hitler was a monster, worse than any demon I ever encountered!”

“Noooo silly uncle Dante! It was King Herod! Hitler was austrian and from a different era.”

“Whoa whoa whoa kid, who’s holding the damn book again?”

“The book is upside down uncle Dante. And that’s not even the Bible, that’s papa’s favorite book.”

Once he gave a closer inspection, Dante realized he had been holding the book upside down indeed. Moreover, once he closed it to look at the cover, he noticed that it had been Vergil’s beloved anthology of William Blake all this time.

Sighing and setting the book aside, Dante turned to his lovely nephew “Look little Nero. The important thing about Christmas is that we are all here gathered as a family. It’s not about the gifts or the turkey, it’s about love, like the one of the family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It doesn’t matter where we come from. Joseph raised Jesus with lots of love, and that’s why he became such a good dude and sooo famous.”

Nero smiled warmly at the words, and Dante couldn’t help but ruffle his cute nephew’s soft white locks of hair, making him giggle.

“That means...” Dante continued “that even if you are not a planned child, like you Nero, we still love you all the same.”

“Huh? Not planned?” Nero tilted his head in confusion. “Does that mean... I’m adopted?” Tears were beginning to form at the corner of his baby blue eyes. However, Dante couldn’t even explain the misunderstanding when a loud bang resonated through the entire house.

“DAAANTEEEEE!!!” Vergil had barged out of the studio and into the living room, furious to the point that he had Devil Triggered and with a halo of summoned swords around him.

Needless to say, poor Dante had to run for his life from his rampaging brother, a chase that was soon put to an end after Grandma Eva stepped out and reprimanded both siblings with a rolling pin and a look so stern and powerful that made them both cower in fear and respect. Meanwhile, Grandpa Sparda decided to stay and calm down little Nero, showing him his new train set until the boy was giggling blissfully once again.

Just another normal day at the Sparda household after all.

#devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc nero #dmc vergil #drunk uncle dante #christmas #fanfiction #crackfic #christmas story #lmao what am i even doing

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sniffle-elf · 5 years ago

Note

“I’m cold. Come closer.” - for Gabriel and John, if you can? :3

OKAY SO. As I mentioned, this grew into something completely unexpected, and I’m sorry if it’s not your jams. Feel free to shoot me another request if you totally hate it.

Also, it should be noted that this takes place in a fantasy medieval kingdom where things like allergies aren’t really known. All Gabriel knows is the ‘smell’ of horses makes him ‘sensitive’. Okay bye.

John & Gabriel. 2.4K words. Allergies.

Autumn in Etrania came all at once. One afternoon it was hot out, summer lingering and making the more nocturnally challenged inhabitants of the kingdom seek refuge inside the cool shade of their homes. The next day brought a cool breeze and the scent of rain. And every day after that was rain and wind and clouds that were dark and heavy with possibility.

John had decided to take advantage of the sudden arrival of dreariness to spend more time with his horse. Without the need of a hat to protect himself from the deadly sunlight, he understood better the phrase 'weather permitting' than he ever had. It was nice to be able to ride along Gabriel's countryside without worrying about silly things such as sun poisoning. With Gabriel busy all day, holding Court and overseeing some sort of improvement on the castle, John had been presented with both the time and the opportunity for a good, long ride, and he had taken it gladly.

When he returned to the castle finally, stormy twilight had settled over Etrania like an angry, purple blanket. Just as he was handing Satine's reins over to an eager stablehand, the skies opened as if the clouds had been pierced by a thousand tiny knives. Immediately, John had spluttered and lifted an arm to shield himself from the wet, cursing the dreariness that had made a hat unnecessary. You could never win, it would seem. He didn't quite run across the castle grounds, but it was a near thing, his boots slipping over wet grass in his haste to get inside sooner.

It was only as he climbed the stairs to the quarters he shared with Gabriel that he realized just how tired he was. Tired, and drained. Something he had learned since being turned; being tired was very different from feeling drained. He felt drained mostly when he was hungry, just before he started to slip into the bloodlust that made him feel as if his body was dying, one cell at a time, and he felt as if every ounce of energy had been bled from him.

How ironic.

When Lucas sprang forward to open the door for him, with an exaggerated bow and a greeting of, "Hello, Boss!" John barely had the energy to roll his eyes at him. Waving a hand over his shoulder, he shivered and dripped his way into the circular sitting room, reaching up to unfasten the brooch holding his now soggy cloak closed. He sighed, a tired sound, and hung his cloak up to drip near the door. A hand was pushed into his wet hair, and he realized that the very act of hanging up his cloak and pushing damp curls from his eyes had all but done him in. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was cold.

Thankfully, there was already a warm fire burning in the hearth and the unmistakable scent of bergamot tea. It was amazing what he could notice now, with his enhanced vampire senses. The scent of tea on the air. The rumblings of an incoming storm, still miles off. The sound of animals creeping in the forest behind the castle. And the cold. He noticed the cold so much more now, which he had initially found odd. Why would a vampire, one whose blood no longer ran hot, notice the cold? He did, though, finding winter as excruciating as summer, though for very different reasons. He had once, a bit drunkenly after too much brandy taken with Gabriel's father in the study, compared himself to a lizard who didn't know if it wanted to be perched atop a sunny rock, or hiding beneath it.

Gabriel had called himself the rock, and John had become aware, for the first time since being changed, that vampires could blush if they had fed recently enough.

The rock in question was, no doubt, the reason for the crackling fire and John's favourite tea, being kept warm in a kettle wrapped in wool. The king himself was standing near the window, behind a large easel. With a paintbrush in hand and his eyes fixed on the storm, he hadn't moved to greet John, or even lifted his eyes from his work. That meant he was very much caught up in it all, which also meant that John had to go to him. And it didn't matter, it turned out, what you were. Vampire or human, king or commoner. If your partner approached you with damp clothing and skin chilled from the wind and rain, you were likely to notice. No matter what you were doing.

"Christ!" The paintbrush left a streak of navy across the canvas when Gabriel jumped at a cold hand being worked up beneath his shirt. Muffling laughter between his mate's shoulderblades, John held on fast even as Gabriel tried to shake him off, squirming in a very un-royal fashion. "What are you doing, you're freezing! And wet, Johnny, get off!” Despite the harsh words, Gabriel's voice was warm with amusement, and his motions were half-hearted at best. Exaggerated, perhaps, to make John laugh. That was enough to make warmth bloom in John's chest, spreading through him slowly. Not enough to chase the chill from his bones entirely, but definitely enough to make him smile and hum a content note against Gabriel's shoulder.

"I'm cold," he murmured, a shiver running down his spine and making him tremble against the solid warmth of Gabe's back. He took his hand from Gabriel's chest, settling instead for wrapping his arms around his beloved's waist and shuffling closer to him. They were pressed together, from shoulder to hip to knee, and John would still move closer if he could. Gabriel, who was unfed and barely warmer than room temperature, felt as warm to him as if he'd been basking in front of the fire for hours. Rubbing his nose against the soft casual tunic that Gabriel had traded his Court finery for, John kissed his shoulder and tightened his arms around him in a plaintive squeeze. "Come closer."

Gabriel shuffled back a step, moving away from his easel so that he could turn in John's arms and hug him properly. With arms looped loosely around John's waist, he smiled up at him with the kind of tenderness that was reserved for him alone. "Closer? Johnny, I don't think two people can stand closer than we are now. Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, apparently afraid that John would take offence to his desire to be closer. About to insist that there were several ways that they could, in fact, be closer, John was silenced by a kiss pressed to his forehead. And it was so simple a gesture, so sweet and warm, that it immediately silenced his slightly bawdy protest. Settling for huffing quietly, John dipped his head to accept the second kiss that he knew was coming, and the nuzzle to the tip of his cold nose. Gabriel, his honey-eyed king, could put out a fire just as quickly as he'd set it ablaze, and John was weak to his tiny affections. He pressed his forehead to his collarbone, humming again when the top of his head was kissed quietly.

"How was Court?" It didn't matter that his voice was, more or less, muffled into Gabriel's shirt. He knew that Gabe was used to his need to touch, and to feel, and to be as close as possible some days. And that this sometimes meant he had to decipher John's grumbled speech that was half-obscured by whatever part of his body was currently being spoken to. They had become rather adept at communicating that way. That, and when Gabe refused to lift his head from where it was crushed against his pillow in the mornings, and still thought that John could even halfway understand him.

"Well," Gabriel mused, his lips brushing the top of John's head when he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "It was long. And slow. And dragged on. And..." He cut himself off with soft laughter when John dug a knuckle into his ribs, squirming to get away from the ticklish touch without actually releasing John from the warm circle of his arms. He gave a soft sniffle and braced his chin atop John's curls instead, rubbing one hand over his back absently, a touch that made John sigh contentedly. "It was good. We got a sweet little piglet..." He drew back just enough to press a knuckle beneath his nose, giving it a quick and dismissive rub, and smiled up at John, his eyes sparkling. "He's cute."

"Cute?" Eyes narrowing in suspicion, John pulled back further still. "He is delicious. I'm going to eat him for breakfast!" Gabriel had always wanted a pet, but his father had not allowed it in his youth. And now, because of that, he often joked about keeping every animal that was brought to them as a token. And John would joke right back that he was going to eat said animal. When Gabriel didn't laugh again, the way he normally did, John lifted an eyebrow and poked his mate in the ribs again. "Now, you can't be all that attached to a piglet, Gabe. Really, despite my current company, I do have standards. I--"

"Hh'ITSH’iew!" The sneeze came on so suddenly that it stole away the witty remark that John's tongue was still wrapped around. He blinked in surprise, leaning back when Gabriel turned away hurriedly, curled fist already lifted to deflect another itchy sounding, "Hk'IShhhieew!" A quick sniffle and Gabriel turned back, though he did so hesitantly while performing the rather boyish act of wiping his hand dry against the side of his pants. Pulling a face, John squirmed away from Gabriel, patting his body lightly in search of a handkerchief concealed in some pocket or another. All his hands contacted, however, was the damp fabric of his riding clothing.

"God bless you. I've nothing, I'm afraid. Are you quite alright?" He lifted a hand to touch Gabriel, intending on stroking his thumb over the curve of his cheek. His wrist was caught just short of contact being made, and Gabriel pressed a quick kiss to his palm before gently pushing his hand down. He sniffled again, a quick series of short, wet bursts of sound. It was something that would typically cause irritation to spark in John, the repetitive sound of it getting under his skin. But the expression on Gabriel's face, crumpling slowly as the realization of another sneeze dawned upon him, had him too curiously concerned, and perhaps just a little amused. This must have shown in his expression, some twitch of his mouth, or a sparkle in his eyes, because Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, damp and pink looking already.

"I'm fine. Wh..why do you look lihh--" He pushed the bulb of his nose into the palm of his hand and rubbed it in quick, rough circles. This was apparently enough for now, enough for him to relieve the itch long enough to finish his thought. "Look like that? Like this is funny?" This was such a childish gesture that most of his worry gave way to further amusement, and John hid a smile behind a hand lifted to his mouth. Gabriel glared, though it was short-lived due to the arrival of the sneeze he'd managed to stave off. He turned aside once more, this time tucking his face neatly into the bend of his elbow. John rubbed his back through the fit, his brows lifting when the count reached seven, and Gabriel's breath hitched once more, indicating he wasn't done yet. There was, however, a pause long enough for John to speak over his mate's shivering breath.

"God bless you. Are you quite done?" He blinked innocently when Gabriel glared at him once more, dark lashes spiked with tears, his eyes pink and sensitive looking. For to be certain, this was one of Gabriel's sensitivities. And John, who had tapped his clothing once again to search in vain for a handkerchief, was quite surprised that it had taken him this long to realise that the scent of Satine must be clinging to him still. And, judging from the expression that crossed Gabriel's face when he fitted John with a watery glare, he had reached the same conclusion.

"What are you wearing? What have you behhh... huhhEISH'oo!" Despite how many times Gabriel had sneezed already, they still sounded desperate, as if the itch in his nose was still simply too much to bear. Another sneeze, a damp sounding, "huhisshhhh!" that was mostly smothered in the sleeve of his shirt, and he finally lifted his head again, looking bleary and blinking rapidly. His voice was a stuffy rasp when he finally spat out, "What did you do today?"

"Well!" Huffing a little, John put further distance between them, moving to the chest of drawers where their handkerchiefs were kept in neat stacks. He pulled one of the more absorbent squares and brought it back to Gabriel, trying not to laugh when the pouting king snatched the cloth from his hand impatiently and held it to his nose with a thick sniffle. "Honestly, you can't expect me to just sit around and look pretty while you're holding court. Don't," he added, when it looked as if Gabriel may make some sort of smart remark. He half-turned from his mate, reaching for the cord belt at his waist. "Don't start. I had to amuse myself somehow, and your father has already trounced me at chess twice this week. You said you wanted me to get out more," he added when Gabriel made a stuffy, annoyed sound before blowing his nose. He continued to defend himself as he undressed, leaving his riding clothes in a growing heap on the floor. "And you gave me Satine to begin with. Remember? She was just a little thing, and..." The river of his defence trickled to almost nothing when he turned, stripped down to just his breeks, and saw the way that Gabriel was looking at him. "What?"

Gabriel sniffled once more, giving his nose one final swipe with the handkerchief before advancing on him, moving in that slowly deliberate way that always sent a chill up John's spine. His voice was thick with congestion when he spoke, but low and simmering with suggestive heat. "Are you still cold?"

Feeling suddenly breathless, John reached up to untie the leather thong that held it back. His curls fell over his shoulders, and he reached for Gabriel with one hand, shivering again. "Come closer."

#elf fic #elfy ocs #john reed #gabriel ketil #gabe and johnny #snz fic #allergies #thank you so much for the request!#sorry it took a million years!#stay tuned for the sequel i will never write #where john gets a cold from being in the rain #because science doesn't exist in medieval fantasy worlds

38 notes · View notes

profoundnet · 5 years ago

Text

Profound Member Post - November/December 2019

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2019!

Masterpost below the cut.

JessJessTheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJessTheBest

Forgot all prayers (of joining you)

Dean had forgotten how real and close emotions were when he was here. When he was this close to Cas. When there was nothing between them but time. He wasn’t saying any of this right. His words weren’t working. He couldn’t make his mouth cooperate. But maybe… Or Dean prays to Cas in purgatory. (s15 e08 coda)

Tags: s15 e08 coda, Dean Winchester prays to Castiel, Mild hurt/comfort

SFW

One Hell of a Pilot

He leaned again to get close to the pilot. “This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape.” He took a deep breath, letting it sink in for just a moment that he said those words. That he was doing this. There was no going back. Or Cas is a reformed Stormtrooper, Dean is a rebel pilot, and this is the story of their escape.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers, It's literally just the first 36 minutes of TFA, Poe!Dean, Finn!Cas

SFW

The_Madness_Linked_To_A_Hat - @the-madness-linked-to-a-hat - The_Madness_Linked_To_A_Hat

Happy Holidays Cas

Where Dean and Cas follow a seasonal tradition.

Tags: Mistletoe, first kiss, happy holidays SFW

Isangelousdenim - @isangelousdenim - Isangelousdenim

Wishful Drinking

It started with Dean drinking on a case. It escalated to Dean drinking everywhere.

Tags: TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Violent Thoughts & Alcohol Abuse Character Study, Season 15, Heavy Angst

NSFW

Co-written by: Bumocusal

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Head Down, Walk with Reason

As an omega, Castiel is ineligible for the throne after his father dies. When his uncle takes the crown, Metatron's first order of business is to arrange a betrothal with King John for the hand of his firstborn son, the Crown Prince of Terra.

So Castiel flees. His first night on the run, Castiel stumbles into a band of outlaws just at the border. Injured and wary, he has no choice to stay with them. And although he had planned to return to his own kingdom once it was safe, home might not be the place he left, but instead with Dean, their alpha leader that took him in.

Tags: a/b/o, medieval au, royalty au, omega cas, alpha dean, secret identities, angst with a happy ending, castiel and meg friendship NSFW

MaggieMaybe160 - @maggiemaybe160 - MaggieMaybe160

A Thanksgiving Feast

Dean Winchester's dirty prayer before Thanksgiving dinner leads to some shenanigans under the table. Tags: Food Kink. Top Cas/Bottom Dean.

NSFW

One Night

An accidental one night stand between Castiel and Dean leads to whispered confessions and miscommunications.

Tags: Internalized Homophobia. John Winchester's A+ Parenting. Angst with a happy ending. NSFW

followyourenergy - followyourenergy

Christmas in July

When Dean Winchester follows a service dog who won’t leave him alone, he finds Cas Novak, passed out in a stairwell with a Christmas tree on top of him. A Christmas tree? In July? Who does that? Turns out that Cas does that. And once he gets to know the snarky, independent, handsome man, Dean can’t help but fall for him. A story about being seen.

Tags: Christmas, fluff and angst, pining, blind Castiel, service dogs, snarky Castiel, sweet Dean, falling in love

NSFW

Nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep Pillowfort

Talk to Me Now

It started off simple. An ad on Craig's List: Looking for a Roommate, 700/mo, Utilities included...

Tags: AU - Roommates, idiots to lovers, pranks and practical jokes, misunderstandings, comfortably bisexual dean, queer castiel

NSFW

Stuck in the Middle With You

"Fine." Cas slid his right pointer finger into the trap and almost instantly felt the trap snap around their fingers. "That's not right." Dean looked up at Cas. "What did you do?" Cas attempted to pull his finger out of the trap. "I didn't do anything."

Tags: canonverse, cursed object, idiots to lovers, homophobic language, everyone ships dean/cas, love confessions

NSFW

What I Thought I Knew

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to go back to the kitchen when his eyes lock on a guy across the room. He has dark, messy hair and eyes that cannot possibly be so blue. He stares for a moment, ripping his eyes away only when he realizes the other guy has caught him staring. Dean blushes and rushes back into the kitchen. Tags: AU - Modern, Strangers to Lovers, One-sided Enemies to Lovers, Objectification, Miscommunication, Dub-con Kiss

NSFW

Slice of Your Pie

He pulled up the Casual Encounters section of Craig's List and was surprised to find out how right Gabe was. Many people were offering their services for Thanksgiving company. As he scrolled through the ads, one with an interesting title caught his attention. Alone on Thanksgiving? Want to stop the ‘Why are you still single?’ questions?

Tags: AU - Modern, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Crush at first sight, pre-Dean/Cas, Homophobic Language, Sexism

NSFW

Shiver

"I wouldn't leave it there. I grabbed the most important things and left." Dean shook his head vehemently. "Are you sure?" Sam's face started to crinkle up in an 'I told you so' expression. "Did you really get everything before you ran and asked to crash with your baby brother and his wife?" Dean glared at Sam. "I don't want to go back. It can't be there."

Tags: AU - Modern with Magic, Witch!Cas, Witch!Dean, Blizzards, Car Accident, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

NSFW

Angel

Overcome by a moment of whimsy, Dean walked down the stairs and stepped into the middle of the yard. He looked towards the sky and closed his eyes, letting the snowflakes gently kiss his skin. Tags: Canon Compliant, Fallen!Cas, Snow Angels, Marriage Proposal, Established Dean/Cas, Short and Sweet

SFW

Chandeliers of Hope

"You seriously Christmas themed our D&D game?" Dean rolled his eyes in disbelief. Charlie walked over and patted Dean on the cheek before taking some of the candlesticks out of Cas' arms. "Of course, I did. You said to write what I wanted, I wrote tonight's campaign. It's a one-shot, and it's going to be a lot of fun, I promise." "Gonna hold you to that, Red." Dean pointed at her accusingly before looking and smiling at Cas. "And I'm going to hold you as an accomplice."

Tags: AU - Roommates, Christmas Party, Characters playing D&D, Recreational Marijuana Use, Alcohol Use, Mistletoe Kiss, Cas/Dean First Kiss, Idiots to Lovers

NSFW

A Cold, Dark Winter’s Night

Charlie pulled out a small gift bag and handed it out to everyone. "Secret Santa!" Cas rolled his eyes as Charlie came to stand in front of him, gently shaking the bag. He reached in and pulled out a slip of paper, waiting until Charlie moved to the next person. He flipped it open, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Dean.

Tags: AU - Roommates, Christmas Fluff, Idiots in Love, Secret Santa, Everyone Ships Dean/Cas

NSFW

Twas The Night

“It’s Christmas Eve!” “Uh, yeah.” Dean got up from his bed and walked down the hallway to Emma’s room and leaned against her doorframe. “You gonna tell me something I don’t know, Kiddo?” “We need to get started!” Emma was sitting on her floor with her back to the door. “It’s Cas’ first Christmas with us, and I want to make sure he enjoys it.”

Tags: AU - Modern, Timestamp, Domestic Dean/Cas, Established Dean/Cas, Christmas Fluff, KidFic, Marriage Proposal

SFW

You Make it Feel Like Christmas

"Well, considering I haven't had a chance to go Christmas shopping. How about you?" Sam zipped up his bag and did a second check around the hotel room. "I already took your bag out to the car." Sam crossed the room to the motel door and headed outside. Dean stood in silence for a moment as Sam closed the door behind him. Shopping, on Christmas Eve?

Tags: Canonverse, Last Minute Christmas Shopping, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Happy Ending

NSFW

Auld Lang Syne

"She's cute. You ask her out yet?" Dean stabbed his pie with his fork and shoved another bite into his mouth. "Uh, no. Why?" Dean winked. "Means she's available, right?" "No offense Dean, but you don't have a chance. She has standards." Cas took a sip of his tea and looked at his roommate. "Ouch. You wound me, Cas." Dean rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his knuckles. "Bet you I can get Meg to go to the New Year's Ball with me."

Tags: AU - Modern, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Oblivious Castiel, Eventual Dean/Cas, Dean/Cas First Kiss

SFW

Leafzelindor - @leafzelindor

Artwork for On The Road Again

Artwork done for the DCBB fic "On the Road again" Tags: destiel, fluff, au

SFW

For On The Road Again by @hekate1308

Artwork for Life is But A Dream

Artwork done for the DCBB fic "Life is but a Dream" Tags: Destiel, AU

SFW

For Life is But A Dream by @crowleyhasfeels

Jdragon122 - @jdragon122 - Jdragon122 Pillowfort

from stardust to stardust

~ from stardust to stardust ~ The art prize for the lovely gii-heylittleangel ;) who won the Destiel Artists United 500 follower giveaway! They asked for Castiel and wings XD my favorite lol. I was happy to comply <3

Tags: N/A

SFW

Jemariel - @jemariel - jemariel

Human Error

Cas is human now, and things aren't going to plan. (Not that Dean had a plan. Nope. No plans of any kind.) Anyway, what's a Winchester to do when everything he tries seems to blow up in his face? Go hunting. Obviously.

Tags: Human!Castiel, Alternate season 9, Casefic, Only One Bed, Mutual pining, Miscommunication, Sex under the influence of alcohol, Canon-typical violence, Wendigo, Injured Cas

NSFW

Sarasaurussex - @sarasaurussex - sarasaurussex

Don’t Mess with Dean’s Alpha

Dean and Castiel are enjoying a relaxing night out, until Cas gets hit on by another Omega.

Tags: Omega Dean x Alpha Cas, Possessive Omega, BAMF Dean, Jealousy, Fluff

SFW

The Wendigo

Dean has a lot of baggage from his childhood. Castiel wants to help, if Dean will let him.

Tags: PTSD trauma, parental abuse trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Healing, First Kiss, Confessions

SFW

Destiel Christmas Sweaters, Part I

I had some funny Christmas sweater ideas and couldn't resist dressing up the boys. Dean is not amused. Tags: Destiel, Crack, Humor, Christmas

SFW

Destiel Christmas Sweaters, Part II

More ugly Christmas sweaters for the boys ;D Tags: Destiel, Crack, Humor, Christmas

SFW

Miracle on Lebanon Street

The bunker gets an unexpected visitor on Christmas morning, and it’s not Santa! (Contains Destiel and Sabriel)

Tags: Ugly Christmas Sweaters, White Christmas, Gift Giving, Christmas Feast (it’s pie), Mistletoe, Fluff SFW

vaudelin - @vaudelin - vaudelin Pillowfort

of mundane things

“You never told us,” Dean hisses, during a muted conversation carried in the protective depths of the kitchen. “You got hitched to a djinn? Since when?” “I did tell you,” Cas growls back. He slams on the faucet, filling the glass with vigor. “It’s not my fault you weren’t listening.”

Tags: Alternate Season/Series 14, dream walking, Dean in Castiel's Dream, Getting Together

SFW

a tale that can’t be told

Black leather and oil scent the air around him, a welcome change from antiseptics. Impala, Castiel thinks. Baby. Except he’s not allowed to call her that. A flash of brown panelling slides through his memory, rattling on a rusted truck bed with wood for bed rails. Outside the car, the brothers are quietly arguing. Castiel cranes to listen, but he only picks out a partial phrase from Sam: Since when was he losing his powers? The snippet from Dean is even more troubling: Is Chuck fucking with us by giving him a factory reset?

Tags: Alternate Season/Series 15, Castiel Losing His Powers, Human Castiel, Memory Loss, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, Castiel's Missing Brown Truck, Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Hopeful Ending

NSFW

low voices in the library (are appreciated)

Sam moved, though in which direction Dean couldn’t yet tell. Not the library, Dean mentally begged. He didn’t want to deal with the scene Sam was about to stumble into, let alone its know-it-all aftermath. Tags: Library Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex

NSFW

a handful of seeds

Dean paused in his chopping. He swiped the green pepper chunks into a neat pile on the cutting board. He was running out of excuses to make. Weakly, he asked, “Where would I even keep a garden?” Cas, sensing victory, rose up in height. “Behind the bunker entrance, in the patch of earth lined by mulberry bushes.” Dean cursed, caught out. “Why’d you even bother to ask, if you already knew?” Softening, Cas gave a small smile. “I’d like to add to it, if that’s okay.”

Tags: Mary Winchester Feels, Gardens & Gardening, Domestic Fluff

SFW

LanaSerra - @lanaserra - LanaSerra & Spandwiches - @spandwiches - spandwiches

300cc

300 Complementary Characters: a forum on Kansas City University’s student website. You can write whatever you want, but it has to be 300 characters or less. Dean is crushing hard on Sam’s TA, but it feels different than it has before; it feels like he needs to do it properly, to have a grand declaration and to prove that romance isn’t dead. What better way to profess his feelings than posting a poem on 300cc? Castiel is torn. There’s no mistaking the poem is for him, but who could be posting them? Despite being very tempted by the very attractive new light and sound engineer that will be working on the play he has written, Castiel can’t ignore the feeling that he and the anonymous Poet are meant to be together. A comedy of errors, mutual pining, and erotic poetry.

Tags: college-au, two person love triangle, explicit poetry, fluff, the boys fail to use their words while using ALL of their words, consent is sexy, POV switching, explicit, minor Sam/Eileen

NSFW

MittensMorgul - @mittensmorgul - MittensWraith

This Must Be The Place

Seven years after their profound meeting, Cas knows he's exactly where he was always meant to be. (a sequel to Lifetime Piling Up, but can be read as a standalone)

Tags: Doctor Castiel/Tattoo Artist Dean, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, Fluff

SFW

On This Night

Something goes terribly wrong while hunting a djinn. Newly-human Cas had never considered what the effects of djinn poison could be for a human, and struggles to remember why everything seems just so slightly off when he wakes up back at the cabin he and Dean had been staying in during the hunt. The cabin has been transformed with holiday decorations, and Cas wonders just how long he'd been unconscious. Only when he tries to get answers from Dean, reality comes crashing back in on them both, in the best of all possible ways. Tags: Canon case fic, Christmas Fluff, snowed in, first kiss, POV Castiel, djinn dreams

SFW

firefly124 - @firefly124-writing - firefly124

Making It Up as We Go

Dean’s not entirely sure what he’s looking at, but he’s almost sure it’s a message from Chuck.

Tags: mentions of past (temporary) MCD, spoilers through SPN 15x06

SFW

Something Bright to Dispel the Gloom

A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever.

Tags: spoilers through SPN 15x07

SFW

Crumblin’ Down

Dean’s feeling nostalgic. Cas is mystified. Sam is oblivious.

Tags: spoilers through SPN 15x07

SFW

Overdue Explanations are Overdue

If Dean thought this day had been a rollercoaster ride before, he didn’t know what to compare it to now.

Tags: spoilers through SPN 15x07, reference to past (temporary) MCD

SFW

Faith, Hope, and Maybe Something Else

Castiel figured he’d probably just ensured that the Empty would never come for him.

Tags: spoilers through SPN 15x07, reference to canon character deaths

SFW

The Choices We Make

Castiel takes a moment to reflect on the choices he has made as well as those others have made, and is presented with a new one to consider.

Tags: spoilers through SPN 15x07

SFW

Wargurl - @wargurl83 - wargurl83

Christmas in the Bunker

Join TFW as they discover a little bit of the magic of the season. Tags: Cannon-Divergent, holiday shenanigans

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foxymuses · 5 years ago

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an incomplete list of headcanons for sirius black:

there was a period of about 6-8 months between running away/being disowned and receiving his uncle’s inheritance when sirius had absolutely nothing to his name but the misc junk he’d shoved in a bag when he left the house to go to james. the potters, ignoring sirius’ claims they didn’t have to, bought him a moderate amount of items including but not limited to clothes, school materials, and various items for the room he’d already claimed at their house. when his inheritance kicked in, he tried to pay them back. they refused.

sirius was always more afraid of his father than his mother (which is the opposite of regulus). the reason is that his mother was more concerned with appearances outside the family, but was content to simply act as if sirius didn’t exist when they were at home, which was fine for both of them (and on some occasions, the worst that would happen is she’d scream and yell and be generally unpleasant, and true she’d be the one to force a hair cut or destroy his ‘revolting’ muggle/gryffindor items). however his father was the disciplinarian. his father rarely raised his voice, but was the first to raise a hand or wand to correct behaviors or punish misbehaviors, and though sirius would stand up for himself and was not scared into silence, there were many instances where he would show up to the potters in the middle of the night, or return from mandatory holidays during the school year, with signs of magically induced injury.

following that, sirius is always the first to jump to the defense of others, completely disregarding his own safety or the danger of the situation, and has been known to laugh in the face of those that think they can fight him, and generally doesn’t react to anyone who rises to attack him either verbally or physically, but whenever his father even shifted slightly, sirius would tense and brace, and there were several instances in public where a disagreement would start and though often the marauder’s were nearby and out of ear shot, they’d know things were going poorly because sirius, who never ever shows fear to anyone, would flinch

it’s clear from prisoner of azkaban that sirius could have escaped at any point. all he did was become padfoot and get past the dementors who weren’t looking for or caring about animals (literally his words). there is no true reason he had to wait twelve years except for dramatic story telling. that being said, the shock of the situation prevented any of this from logically settling in his mind for the first few weeks, and then after that, the dementors and their constant soulsucking presence did make it easier for sirius to blame himself for james and lily dying. he convinced them to make their secret keeper peter instead of him, he didn’t try hard enough to keep them safe, he should’ve actually killed peter, fuck what’s happening to harry, where is he, does anyone care about him, is he being taken care of, what’s remus doing, does remus think sirius did it, does remus hate him, is remus okay, it’s another full moon please let remus be okay, fuck if he gets out he’s going to strangle peter --- on and on, and it definitely gave him a huge amount of guilt on his shoulders, and regret, and despair, and while i personally don’t think it would have taken him 12 years to finally fucking decide to leave, it definitely did take several, especially since telling time within the walls of azkaban is near impossible

ON THAT NOTE, HOWEVER, it is this very guilt and anger that allowed him to muster the determination to finally fucking escape. even amidst all this guilt and fear and sorrow, sirius was strong enough to stay sane under the influence of the dementors and his own perceived failure, that he consciously made the decision to trick his way out. it was this very fury he felt towards peter and the injustice that he suffered because of his coward of a supposed best friend that fueled sirius’ ability to withstand the trails of being a prisoner at the worst wizarding prison. once his guilt subsisded enough for pure unadulterated hate to seep in, it was just a matter of deciding the best time to stage an escape

I REPEAT, I DO NOT BELIEVE IT TOOK HIM 12 YEARS at most, i would figure, personally, it happened in four or five. which, while following my canon divergent main verse, would still allow time for sirius to clear his name and fight for custody of harry, which he does successfully, by my canon, when harry is about seven. SO EVEN IF sirius isn’t instantly cleared as my main verse would like, he still winds up a single dad.

he has horrible nightmares after azkaban, regardless of when he gets out or how long he was there or whether he ends up raising harry. i personally would have it so that he and remus end up living together, both because sirius has his inheritance to support them, and because they’re the last two marauders and trusting others is hard for sirius to come by after everything, so living with remus is Safe and Easy, and he does everything he fucking can to make up for all the full moons he missed, but regardless of how Hard he tries to get back to some semblance of a normal life, he has severe ptsd from prison and he doesn’t sleep well and he doesn’t eat much and he drinks more (in verses where he doesn’t have custody) and he smokes a shit ton more and he spends more time as padfoot than he does as a human because being a dog is just so much simpler and he has fewer worries, and remus is fucking worried as shit about him because sirius was always the strongest of the four of them (fight me on this i dare you) and to see the confident, arrogant, and generally easy-going carefree rebel that was sirius black in school turned into a jumpy, irritable, shattered shell of himself is hard and sirius never truly recovers from that damage, he just gets better at hiding it, and he does a hell of a lot better at healing when he does have custody of harry because harry gives him purpose in a way that remus can’t.

when sirius inevitably comes across peter again, he does try to kill him. whether he genuinely fails or subconsciously stops himself because peter, as much as sirius resents and hates and would love to grind him into little rat pieces, was a friend and was someone sirius trusted and cherished and would have protected with his life, and no matter how much he very much wants to kill the bastard, he can’t

shifting gears a bit, but sirius had never and still doesn’t really see himself ever getting married. he never even wanted kids until harry came around, and even then, the only kid he’ll ever have is in my canon divergency where he raises harry himself. in that verse he is more open to a co-parenting relationship (re: when he’s with @gavrele‘s gabe, or if he were to be with remus or another marauder’s era character who survived either by au or in canon), which can be considered romantic or merely a mutual desire to raise this orphaned child, but in that instance, he still probably wouldn’t want marriage, because it makes him seriously uncomfortable just thinking about it, and at the very most he would just agree to mutually wear signifying rings but not actually make it official, so that way if at any point he does feel weird about it he won’t feel bad about taking the ring off for a few days until the feeling passes

he learns of regulus’ dying while he’s in azkaban and listen canon sirius was very ‘meh’ about the whole deal, which really pisses me off, so my sirius was very torn. and it doesn’t help that most people just write reggie off as disappearing, they don’t know the story, they just assume he died in the war or voldemort disposed of him or something, doesn’t matter, he learns that regulus is gone, and his father is gone, and his mother ends up dying shortly before he gets out, and sirius is alone really and truly, and when he returns home for the first time in years, he manages to convince kreacher to explain the situation because even if he doesn’t particularly like kreacher, they both loved regulus, and sirius crafts a makeshift grave for his brother which he visits reguluarly, and though he doesn’t usually say much except “hey reg”, the first time he broke down sobbing because he tried so hard to get regulus to see the right side of the war, but he didn’t try hard enough, and he should’ve worked harder to keep reg safe, what an awful brother he was, he only ever thought of himself, if he just took regulus with him when he ran away maybe they could’ve avoided this, fuck he’s sorry he fucked up, he’s so proud that regulus stood up to voldemort in the end, he doesn’t care if it was for selfishness or fear or whatever, he’s so proud, he wishes regulus would know how proud he is

he actively keeps harry as safe as possible, doesn’t let half the shit that happens happen to him, fully supports and listens to him whenever the kid says ‘something is going on”, talks with him through it, tells him all the stories of james and lily that he can, never treats harry as less than his own blooded son because to him harry is his son, but he also never tries to replace james with himself, and harry knows how much sirius loved james and lily and how sirius only wants harry to be safe and happy, and merlin did he cry the first time harry called him dad and told him that he knows sirius isn’t his real dad but its okay to have more than one dad, he still loves james too he just loves sirius as much, and when he saw sirius almost crying, he asked if that was okay, and sirius could not express how absolutely perfect that was and later when talking to remus, remus had to hold a conflicted sirius for at least half an hour because he adored the idea but god he misses james so much, he wishes this wasnt the situation but it is and fuck it hurts (remus is uncle, by the way)

he literally stands between snape and harry, and dumbledore and harry, and does not let lucius anywhere near harry (and only allows cissa after a tentative no-children meeting, where they agree to not be enemies but rather awkward cousins like they are, and sometimes even let draco and harry play together) and harry is raised knowing about the prophecy, and since he’s raised in the wizarding world he’s not a commodity, by the time he starts hogwarts, everyone has kind of gotten over the hype so he can be mostly normal, and yeah strange things keep happening but the second harry tells sirius (because harry is raised in an open and loving environment where talking about things is encouraged), sirius does shit about it, and yeah voldemort wasn’t vanquished, he is still waiting, and sirius can’t be everywhere, but when harry says voldemort is back, sirius fucking rallies and essentially one-man-armies the ministry into fucking doing something about it because he lived through that hell in his last few years of hogwarts, he lost friends to it, he is not going to watch it happen again and nothing is going to hurt harry period

naturally, this means he doesn’t die in the department of mysteries because when the dreams start happening, harry talks about them with him, and they work it out together.

sirius doesn’t get a job because he doesn’t need one, and all of harry’s inheritance from james is purely harry’s, sirius doesn’t touch an ounce of it, and in fact regularly adds to it of his own inheritance, but sirius is seen roaming random places offering assistance, usually in regards to muggle nonsense (think hands on mechanics stuff) because he’s good at it and he doesn’t know what to do with his time, but he never lets them pay

he helps fund the weasley’s prank store. ron is a little odd, and hermione is sometimes annoying, and boy does he have a soft spot for neville because sirius knows about his parents, and you can bet that rather than lifting the map from filch, sirius straight up gave it to fred and george, and remus later confiscated it from his now-permanent DADA position (or whatever position remus wants, tbh) and sirius got an earful before telling remus he knew the other would give it back to them, which he did

i could continue but i should probably start another post to do so SO THERE YOU ARE

#you didn't ask for it #but here is a list of everything i thought about sirius in my short 15 minute bus ride this morning #;;siriuscanon #THIS GOT WAY FUCKING LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO #AND ALSO FOCUSES A LOT ON MY DIVERGENT SETTING #but idfc i have sirius muse up the wazoo and i need to share it #long post #man i dont usually tag that but fuck this is. this is a lot

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seasonofthegeek · 6 years ago

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Wed Me

The glorious @gabriel-fucking-agreste requested Jagged and Nathalie for this prompt and it has been way too long since I wrote them so thank you! For this AU, we’re going to pretend Gabriel’s offices are in a big building with other offices instead of him and Nathalie working in a big ole mansion alone like weirdos.

Day 1

“Ooo, you’re much too pretty to be working for a stuffy guy like ole Gabe,” Jagged grinned as he flared his jacket out to hook his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. “Why don’t you come work for me, pretty bird?”

Nathalie gave him her best bored expression. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Agreste?”

“You know I do, pet,” he winked.

"Please take a seat and I’ll call you when he’s ready to see you.”

“How about you and I get to know each other a little bit?” He draped himself across the corner of the desk with a boyish grin, only slightly wincing at the expensive pencil cup he knocked to the floor.

“Mr. Agreste will see you now,” she said plainly, ignoring his obvious attempt at flirting.

“Ah yeah, how do you know? He didn’t tell you over your little intercom thingy.” Jagged poked at her phone and Nathalie resisted the urge to push him off her desk and onto the floor.

She gave him her most professional tight smile and let all of her irritation leak out of her eyes. “I just know.”

He sighed and stood, giving her a salute. “Reading you loud and clear, love. Sorry for the invasion.” He opened Gabriel’s office door with a loud shout of his name and Nathalie felt sure her boss would have choice words with her later but that was Future Nathalie’s problem. She took a cleaning wipe out of her desk drawer and ran it over her phone and the corner of her desk the rock star had occupied.

Day 13

“Go on a date with me, beautiful Nathalie,” Jagged crooned from his seat in the waiting room armchair. “You’re the only reason I keep coming back to ole Gabe anyway. His designs don’t exactly mesh with my style.”

“Go to hell, Jagged,” she muttered. He’d shown up every other day over the past two weeks and her nerves were fried. If she didn’t have her pride, she would take him up on his offer just to be rid of him once they’d had their date. She cast a look towards Gabriel’s closed door. It wasn’t as if anyone else was interested.

“What was that, pet?”

“Mr. Agreste will see you now,” she answered in a clipped tone.

Day 39

Nathalie stared at the cup Jagged placed on her desk. “What’s that?”

“Salted caramel hot chocolate from that cafe you like down the street.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because you ignored me the other day when you stopped in to get one. You got a cherry scone too so I thought better safe than sorry.” He added the bag to the cup beside her desk and turned to go. “Have a good Tuesday, pet.” He waved with his back to her and then he was gone.

Nathalie frowned at her name written on the cup and adorned with hearts and dumped it and the scone in her trash can.

Day 53

“Nathalie, call Jagged’s assistant and have her schedule a time for him to try on the designs he approved. He’s been driving me mad, dropping by at all hours. Please explain to her that I do have other clients despite our personal history.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Gabriel dropped a stack of papers on the edge of her desk. “Did you hear back about the fabric that was held up in customs?”

“It doesn’t look good. We can try for another appeal.”

He scowled. “Do what you must then; I need that fabric.”

He went into his office and closed the door and Nathalie looked forlornly at the clock. If she ordered something now, she could still get dinner before most places closed but if she did order, she was admitting that she would be stuck at work for hours still. If she didn’t order, maybe she would be more motivated to leave soon. She sighed and looked up Penny Rolling’s number to at least get that off her plate. She left a message that Jagged should could in at his earliest convenience and started on the stack of paperwork Gabriel left for her.

The waiting room door opening startled her and she was even more surprised to see Jagged walking in. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked and looked back at the door he’d just closed. “Penny said I needed to come up and look at the pieces.”

"That call couldn’t have been ten minutes ago. Were you in the area already?”

He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Love, I’ve been recording in the studio on the fifteenth floor for weeks now. Did you really not realize? We’ve passed each other quite a few times.”

It was her turn to look confused. “I...I don’t suppose I did.”

“That hurts a bit, I’ll admit.” He put a hand over his heart but gave her a soft smile. “Is it too late to look at the pieces then?”

“I don’t think he expected you tonight. Perhaps you could come in the morning?”

“Or the afternoon?” he grinned. “Maybe I’ll be busy in the morning. On that note, how do you like your eggs, love?”

She narrowed her eyes and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“What do you drink now that the salted caramel thing is out of season?”

Nathalie felt her face warm and it startled her. Surely she wasn’t blushing just because an obnoxious man was still trying to get her in bed after weeks of denying him. “They’ll actually still make it if I ask.”

He nodded. “Good to know.” He tapped the edge of her desk and gave her a wave. “See you in the morning, pet. Make sure you get out and have some dinner before it gets much later.”

She watched him go and couldn’t decided if she was relieved or disappointed.

Day 75

“Love, you can’t possibly still be here. I saw Gabe ride off in his shiny box of a car an hour ago.”

Nathalie blinked up at Jagged with bleary eyes. “I know. He told me to go home but I just need to finish--”

“Nope.” He circled the desk and gently pulled her chair back. “Come on, you’re leaving.”

“I can’t. I need to--”

“Nothing’s important enough to not sleep tonight.”

Nathalie let him pull her into a standing position and was surprised when his touch disappeared as soon as she was on her own two feet. “The show is coming up and things need to be finished. There’s a deadline.”

“There’s always bloody something,” he shrugged. “Have you eaten? I know a great twenty-four hour joint.”

She looked back down at her computer and long to-do list and the thought of sitting back down made her feel sick. She gave Jagged half a smile. “Dinner would be lovely, thank you.”

Day 78

Nathalie was surprised to find a warm salted caramel hot chocolate and a cherry scone waiting on her desk when she made it in. An envelope with her name on it was leaning against the cup.

“You know I couldn’t get up early enough to make this happen on my own but this lovely lad named Nino from the cafe knew you and assures me this will be ready and on your desk just before you get in. I gave him a big tip so please tell me he did good. I hope you have a lovely day, Nathalie. Love, Jagged.”

Nathalie smiled and read the note through once more before slipping it into her top desk drawer and taking a long sip of hot chocolate.

Day 85

“This counts as a date, pet,” Jagged grinned. “You can’t deny it.”

Nathalie did want to deny it. At least, she thought she did, but here she was, finding herself at the late-nite diner with Jagged again and wondering if she’d worked late just to see if he would come get her. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Bloody hell, Nat, give me a little something to live on here; I’m withering.”

She laughed and stole one of the fries off his plate. “I must like you because I don’t let anyone call me Nat.”

“It’s a crumb but I’ll take it.”

Day 91

Jagged’s lips were soft and his hands were gentle as he held her close and kissed her goodnight. She’d finally agreed to a proper date and he’d surprised her with mellow live music during a casual dinner. They’d talked and laughed and when he’d had his driver head in the direction of her small apartment, she was tempted to invite him inside.

“Are you going to let me in, love?” he asked, his breath warm against her face.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered.

“Why?”

She frowned. Why? Her mind scrambled for a reason, any reason, but she didn’t really want one. She tugged on the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into another kiss. “Would you like to come in, Jonathan?” she asked, voice quiet when they parted.

“More than anything.”

Day 113

“Nathalie, I’ll need you to get those orders in before the weekend,” Gabriel said, dropping a fabric palette on her desk. “I’ve made notes on the ones we need in as soon as possible.”

Nathalie moved the palette to her inbox and shut off her computer. “You should’ve given them to me earlier then, Sir. I told you I had plans this weekend and would be leaving on time.”

“It’ll only take an hour.”

“Then I’ll do it for an hour on Monday.” She grabbed her bag and adjusted the strap at her shoulder. “Have a great weekend, Gabriel.”

Jagged was waiting in the lobby and picked her up off her feet and swung her around as soon as she’d cleared the elevator. Nathalie gasped and demanded to be put down immediately. She stepped away from him and straightened her blazer but happily took his hand when he offered it.

Day 221

“Marry me.”

Nathalie scoffed and rolled over to grab her phone off the nightstand. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” Jagged insisted, ignoring the sheets as they shifted away from him in her movement. “I mean it, love. Marry me. Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.”

“I’m a workaholic and you have a pet crocodile. We are not the marrying type.”

“We could be.” He kissed her bare shoulder. “We could be great. We are great.”

She bit her bottom lip and kept her eyes on her phone screen. “I don’t want to get married, Jagged. I never have.”

He sighed and rolled onto his back. “Alright then.”

Day 279

Nathalie couldn’t concentrate on anything. Gabriel had even noticed and apparently taken pity on her since her inbox had stayed empty the past day or so.

He was leaving. Jagged was leaving and she didn’t know what to do. He would be gone on a world tour for over a year. He’d been planning it for months later but some venues opened up and his label wanted to strike while the iron was hot to coincide with the release of his new album.

Her chest felt tight. A whole year without him. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to do it. He’d long since left the studios in the building but she hoped he was close by. He usually was on the days they had plans. She could call him. She could beg him not to go.

She bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood. No. She wouldn’t do that. This was good for him and good for his career. She would put on a brave face and wish him luck and they would talk on the phone until things got boring enough to eventually call it all off. They’d had a good run. It’d been her most successful relationship so that counted for something.

She would be fine. She would get through this.

Day 313

It was amazing how easy it was to fall back into her old lifestyle. She worked late and missed dinner and cancelled plans with friends. Although Gabriel seemed happy to have her back in work mode, even he was suggesting she leave a little earlier some nights. She rarely did though. What was the point?

She’d been making more and more excuses for missing Jagged’s calls but she hadn’t missed any of his televised performances. An alarm she’d set on her phone went off to let her know one was coming and she turned her screen enough so it wouldn’t face Gabriel’s office if he opened the door and put in her earbuds as she found the live stream for Jagged’s performance.

He was sitting on a set that had been made up to look like an intimate living room on the stage. While still dressed in his usual gaudy apparel that she’d grown fond of, he held an acoustic guitar instead of his electric. Fang was curled at his feet and the camera panned out to show a packed crowd surrounding the stage. They all began to sway as Jagged played and Nathalie realized she didn’t recognize the song.

“I’ve loved you for three hundred days since the day that I first saw you. You didn’t love me but that was okay because somehow I just knew. Some of those days I got to see you and some of them I didn’t. Some of the days I got to speak to you and some of them I didn’t. Some of those days you wished I hadn’t spoken to you but I’m hoping that some of them you were happy I did,” he paused to grin as the camera lazily spun around him. “We’ve kissed on some days and had a bloody lot of fun on some days and we’ve even cried on some days. And I can say with absolute certainty that I want the rest of my somedays to just be with you.”

The lyrics were too repetitive and sappy and the melody was hardly catchy but...

Nathalie swallowed against the lump in her throat as she continued to listen and watch.

“...oh, somedays, and Nathalie, I want the rest of my somedays to just be with you,” he finished. There was a roar of applause and then he was standing and waving to the crowd and Nathalie realized her cheeks were wet. She wondered if he knew she’d be watching. It’d been at least a week since their last phone conversation. Surely he’d lost hope by now but...

Her phone dinged with a message and she saw that it was a video clip sent from Penny’s phone. It was of the performance she’d just watched with the text “Girl...”

She watched the video three more times and then she was knocking on Gabriel’s door. “I need to take my vacation days.”

He blinked in surprise. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?!”

“I’ll call the temp service before I leave to have a suitable replacement sent in. They know our standards. I...I have to go as soon as possible.”

He sat back in his chair. “Where are you even going?”

Nathalie smiled then and her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. “On tour.”

I was going to try to finish this all here but I have so much more to write so we’ll just call this part one and hopefully I can do more later! <3

Buy me a cherry coke?

#stonecoeur #jagged stone #nathalie sancoeur #miraculous ladybug

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ourloveisforthelovely · 5 years ago

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Secrets 5

A/n: AU Story

Link to Chapter 4

Words: 1,280

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

____

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed again. You frowned. This wasn’t a feeling that you were liking in the slightest! You were used to Gabriel staying in bed with you until Elliot turned up wanting to disrupt whatever romance was going on.

Gabriel has enough on his plate without you nagging him

You tried to push the thought from your mind. Yes, Gabriel had a lot on him. Any idiot knew that but he was still your husband. You still needed your husband too!

Getting out of bed, you walked into the dinning room. Gabriel sat at the dining room table looking at a cup of coffee that was sitting in front of him. You frowned. From the time that Gabriel had “come out” as an archangel, you hadn’t seen him eat or drink a single thing. You were still trying to figure out what the hell Gabriel had done with all of the dinners that you had fixed him.

“Hey.”

You said, softly. Gabriel looked up with exhausted eyes. He leaned back against the chair.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You walked over to Gabriel and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Gabriel wrapped one arm around your waist. He tried to stop himself from looking at the slight swell of your stomach.

Damn it, she really is pregnant

Gabriel thought internally. Like the “problem” was going to go away! This day was really going to be a kick in the balls! He was trying to not stress you out and now that was going to go straight to hell…

“I thought that you would be in bed with me when I woke up. We haven’t slept together all night in a really long. These hormones are making me want you like crazy…”

Gabriel slightly smirked before pulling you on his lap.

“Sorry, princess. I...uh...Y/n we really need to talk about something.”

You fought a sudden urge to get sick. Gabriel looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Princess?”

You quickly got up and made a dash for the bathroom. Gabriel sighed and leaned back.

“I have not missed that.

Gabriel waited a moment before getting up and walking into the bathroom. You stood over the bathroom sink trying not to vomit again. He watched you a moment longer before reaching out and making the morning sickness vanish.

“Thanks.”

You muttered as you dabbed at your face with cool water.

“That would have been really handy when I was pregnant with Elliot.”

Gabriel smiled.

“I stopped you from realizing a lot of shit that happened. Uh, sugar, I need to talk to you about something.”

He was dreading this conversation. In fact, Gabriel was dreading the upcoming week in general. Not only did he have to tell you that your parents were dead, he would now have to deal with your tears, a funeral, and all sorts of other bullshit that. He already hated the idea of dealing with the rest of your family!

“Gabe?”

Your voice saying his name made Gabriel look up. He sighed before motioning you toward the bedroom.

Gabriel closed the door behind him and turned to face you. This was the moment that he had been dreading since he got back from your parents the night before.

“Y/n, after you went to sleep...I went to check on your parents...and uh...Y/n, they are dead.”

Your mouth dropped. It seemed like a brick had been slammed into your stomach. Did you hear Gabriel right? What happened to your parents?

“Did you really just say that my parents are dead?”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face.

“Mhm...I wish that I could say just kidding but I’m not.”

You sat down on the bed.

“What happened?”

Gabriel sat down beside you. He tried to be as comforting as possible but he knew that was going to work as well as baptizing a cat.

“I went back to make sure that they were okay. From what I could tell...it looks like it was angels that did it.”

Your mouth opened if possible wider. Angles? ANGLES!

“What do you mean it was angels?”

Gabriel tilted his head.

“It looks like angels went in there and acted like the Mason family with your parents.”

You stood up and started pulling on a part of abandoned shoes and threw some of Elliot’s things in a bag. Gabriel slowly stood.

“What exactly are you doing?”

You turned to your husband with wide tear filled eyes.

“I am going to my parents house so I can plan a funeral.”

Gabriel groaned. Here it was! You were trying to get away from him.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

You shook your head.

“Your an archangel, right?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“You know the answer to that.”

You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to say would be crossing a line.

“Then go be a leader of heaven and get your angels under control.”

Gabriel was silent for a moment. He was mad! Again, it didn’t take being married to someone for a few years to know when they were angry. Before Gabriel’s whole being an archangel thing came to light when the two of you got into a fight; Gabriel would just walk away. He would go off and pout alone until he wanted to make up.

“That’s a low blow, Y/n.”

He started for the door but stopped. Gabriel was tired of walking away. He didn’t care if you were pregnant or not at the moment. Gabriel didn’t care that you probably said the things that you did because of grief and shock. It was time that you kept your mouth shut!

“Shut up, Y/n. I am tired of you talking to me this way! If I wanted to I could snap your neck or kill you with a thought… Oh and by the way...those angels...that is because we are together and because Elliot is in existence! Now you know why I hid what I was from you. Congratu-fucking-lations.”

Both of you froze at that sentence. Gabriel had never threatened you like that before. Would he hurt you? You were slightly curious and concerned now.

Gabriel, meanwhile, looked totally ashamed of himself. He had really just sunk to a whole new low?

“I’m sorry…”

You shook your head.

“Let’s just get to my parents. Maybe we shouldn’t talk to each other for a while.”

The whole ride to your parent’s home was mostly silent. Cas agreed to come along. He seemed to know exactly what was going on between Gabriel and yourself. You figured that Gabriel told him everything. To your surprise, Cas didn’t seem the least bit offended. He was just as polite to you as before. Maybe he understood both sides?

Arriving at your parents, you sighed seeing your grandmother Helen’s Cadillac in the drive. Gabriel muttered a few curse words under his breath. He absolutely hated your grandmother (but everyone did so you really couldn’t blame him). She was loud, screechy, and over the top opinionated!

You stepped out of the car as Gabriel took Elliot out of his carseat.

“Well, it just got worse.”

Gabriel muttered. You sighed. The last thing that you wanted to do was face your grandmother not speaking to Gabriel but oh well.

“Mama!”

Elliot’s voice squealed. Gabriel slowly handed the toddler over before meeting your gaze.

“Time to put on an act.”

You snorted.

“Oh yes, let go act like the happy couple that we were…”

_____________

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@supernaturalways

@authoressskr

@emiwrites3reads

@marichromatic

@hankypranky

@wontlookaway

@fand0maniac

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@sprnaturallover

@shitfaceddaniel

@killtherandomness

@tas898

@li0nh34rt

@summer-novak

@shaylybaby2032

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@christinababiee

#Gabriel #gabriel x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #Supernatural Fan Fiction #Cas #Jack Kline #Gabriel fan fiction #gabriel fan fic #AU Gabriel fan fics

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seno99 · 6 years ago

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The Last of Us/Overwatch AU

I need an au of this.

Ships: Roadrat, Genyatta(cyborg genji(half cyborg genji)), R76, Mchanzo, Moicy, etc.

Genyatta: Zenyatta was never happier about being an Omnic. The Infected left him alone and he was completely immune to any form of illnesses of the world. He and others, Omnic and human alike, fled to the mountains to escape the cordyceps crisis. Including his young and beautiful lover Genji. Genji who he was so scared of getting the virus, but somehow was immune. He was still carrying human organs, still fully capable of becoming infected, and yet, the bite mark on his shoulder was healed in the form of a craggly scar. Genji had taken the bite like a true ninja, with pride and with acceptance. But Zenyatta had nearly fallen apart at the sight of the angry bite mark. But now he found himself staring at his sleeping lover with admiration. Somehow, the gods above had given him someone to love who was immune to the plague taking the world. A lover who wouldn’t stop till he found his brother. Zen traced a hand over a scarred cheek, watching as Genji’s eyelashes fluttered in his sleep, a soft sound leaving his throat as he turned into the touch. Zen smiled before leaning down to touch his faceplate against his little sparrows forehead. Somehow he would help his lover find his brother. He would follow Genji to the ends of the earth.

R76: “Come on Jack! We haven’t got all fucking day, puto!” Gabe growled in a hushed whisper. “I know what that means, Gabe.” Jack growled back, trying to grab as many rounds of ammo in the abandoned gun store as possible. His wedding ring glinted in the afternoon sun. He and Gabe has left the home they knew behind since the very first day the virus started. Now they were running from fireflies because they had found out that Gabriel and Jack were immune to the virus. Blame it on the SEP program they went into during their military years. But they had no idea what the fireflies were gonna do to them if they were caught. Nothing good by the feel of it. If them being shot at meant anything. Gabriel grabbed two shotguns from a broken gun case before reaching in and grabbing what looked like a semi automatic and throwing it at Jack. “Come on. We have to get back to the house before dark. Immune or not, I don’t wanna get torn apart.” Gabe said, softer this time. Jack nodded before grabbing some hand guns and their ammo. “We should try to hit the gas station we passed by earlier. Then get back to base.” Jack suggested, because they were vets and they needed a lot of food for their enhanced bodies. “Fine.” Gabe said, keeping an eye outside. “Alright I’m ready, let’s get the hell outta here.” Jack said quietly before stepping out the back door to the store. Gabe followed him and together the started a fast trot down the road.

Mchanzo: Hanzo looked at the place where Jesse’s arm used to be. The older man was asleep in the large storage room he’d locked them in and his katana laid in a pool of smeared blood on the tile. Heavily accented words bounced around his head on repeat, nearly driving him mad with guilt. “Damn it Hanzo, just cut the fucking thing off! Now!” He had to do it. Jesse has asked him to. Plus having a Jesse with one arm was better than having no Jesse at all. Hanzo couldn’t even begin to think what he’d do if he’d lost him today. Jesse meant everything to him, was everything to him. The love of his horrible life. After he’d chased his younger brother away, he’d taken on leadership of his clan. But he’d hated ruling it alone. He wanted his brother. But he’d found Jesse at a bar instead. And he was glad he’d met him. Because even if Genji never answered his calls or texts, Jesse did. He was someone who helped him heal from the sad story that was him and his brother. Wherever Genji was, he hoped he was safe. Now he had to worry about getting Jesse back to their hideout safely. With a still bleeding stump of an arm,m it wouldn’t be easy. Hanzo looked at the poorly sewn stump, to his katana on the ground. Never again. He’d leave that blade here to find another bearer. He had always had a knack for archery, he could easily find a bow. But he couldn’t see himself wielding the very blade that hurt the man he loved most. “Jesse, wake up. It’s time to go.”

Moicy: Moira has been close friends with Angela since their college years, but somewhere along the line they both became consumed with their respective lives and careers. Angela being a leading doctor in the medical world, and Moira being a head scientist in the fight against diseases. She had been appointed to find a cure for the Cordyceps virus, but she failed. When her whole world went to shit, the last thing she’d expected was to run into none other than her long lost best friend, the one she had secretly loved since she first worked on a lab with her. “Moira!?” Angela shouted, surprised. “Dr. Ziegler?” Moira has asked quietly, as though talking to a ghost. Her heart fluttered as she looked at the mature women Angela had become. Her chest and hips had filled out more since grad school and Moira felt her cheeks heat from the realization. Here Moira has thought she was just saving a random civilian by locking her in a deserted building but it was Angela. She hadn’t noticed from behind, she looked so different and yet the same. Now she wondered how she could have not known. “It’s been quite a long time, you stopped FaceTiming.” Angela smiles warmly, always quick to forgive and forget. It was a thing Moira loved her for. “Yes. It has. Though I presume we shall have all the time to catch up. The worlds ended. Or have you noticed?” A small smirk tugged at the corner of Moira’s thin red lips. “There’s the Moira I remember.” Angela grinned, white teeth on display. She had missed it. And now maybe since they didn’t have to worry about their jobs anymore, maybe if they both survived this and got somewhere safe, maybe Moira would have a fighting chance of claiming the woman she loved as her own.

Roadrat: Mako was a lone survivor and he’d met Jamie on the road. Jaimison always seemed like he regretted joining Mako, saying things like how he didn’t need his help, and eventually he lashed out so badly that Mako just got up and left to go sleep somewhere away from the Aussie because of how riled up he was. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help ya fat prick! I’d be better off if ya just left!”—“Fine.” Mako replays the words over and over as he falls into a fitful sleep. He’s woken by horrified sobbing and cries of his name, sobering the sleep in his brain immediately. He’s on his feet and rushing towards the voice until he rounds a corner to see Jamie on his knees with hands over his mouth to stifle his scared cries. His eyes are so wide with fear that he seemed to be in some sort of trance. He looked like a terrified child. Jamie didn’t even notice as Mako approached him. He shook like a taut cord being cut when a large hand cupped his shoulder, pulling his amber eyes upwards and looking into Mako’s dark brown ones. Shock and then something deep and relieved flushed over that pale, freckled face. And then Mako found thin, lanky arms and legs wrapping around him, along with a scared, guilty voice sobbing against his chest. “I-I’m sorry, ma-mate, please, please don’t l-leave! I didn’t me-mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m-“ Mako found himself wrapping his arms around the smaller man even though he didn’t understand why. “Enough.” His deep voice rumbled, feeling Jamie press his mouth into the spot below his clavicle, feeling those lips tremble against his skin. “Don’t leave me—please don’t l-leave, Mako-“ His frail voice pleaded, small hands clenching the fabric of his shirt. “Shhhh.” Mako reached up and ran a hand through the fluffy hair on the other mans head. For some reason or another he didn’t think he would ever really just leave Jamie. He’d seen how helpless he could be at times and for some reason he wanted to protect the smaller man. Even if he was a real asshole at times. They were far from being best friends, but maybe this was all they needed to kick start the beginnings of friendship and maybe something a little stronger.

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fanforthefics · 6 years ago

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hello! 4. teacher/single parent au, tbear/gabe please

“What are you doing?”

Gabe doesn’t jump, thank you very much; he just wasn’t expecting EJ to come into his classroom without knocking. Which was probably his first mistake.

“Nothing.”

“Do you just stand around staring into mirrors when the kids aren’t here?” EJ asks, perching on Gabe’s desk.

“No,” Gabe retorts. He steps back from the mirror after one more shake of his head, then turns to glare at EJ properly. “I was just checking that I didn’t have any paint on me.”

“Uh-huh.” EJ raises his eyebrows. “It’s last period. No one’s here to see you after this.”

“No one,” Gabe agrees, glancing at the clock over EJ’s shoulder. Five minutes to the end of the kids’ arts period. Ten minutes to the end of school.

“And if you were really worried, you’d have checked at the beginning of your free period,” EJ goes on, thoughtfully.

“Get to your point,” Gabe snaps. Four minutes. He needs EJ out by then.

EJ follows his look over his shoulder at the clock, then grins and pulls out his phone. “What are you doing?” Gabe demands. He doesn’t trust EJ even a little.

“Checking NHL schedules,” EJ says. He’s not actually pressing any buttons on his phone. “Avs are home and don’t have a game, do they?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“And it’s a Wednesday,” EJ goes on, still doing that stupid smirk. “Which means…”

“It means nothing.”

“And has nothing to do with a certain defenseman whose daughter is in your class?”

“Cecy’s a great kid,” Gabe says, trying for calm. Three minutes. At least when the kids come back, EJ will have to leave. Or shut up.

“With a father who you think is–”

“He’s a good player,” Gabe interrupts, before EJ can go into exactly what Gabe has said about Tyson Barrie when he’s drunk and an Avs game happens to come on. So maybe he plays pretty hockey and is cute and solid in a way that makes Gabe want to mess up and is even cuter and snarkier and funnier in person and always picks up his daughter from school when he’s home and doesn’t have a game and is, Gabe found out after some guilty googling, single. That has nothing to do with Gabe making sure he looks good. “And a good dad.”

“And that’s why you’re preening.”

“I’m not preening.”

“You’ve got a hair out of place.”

“I don’t!” But Gabe glances at the mirror again, and ignores EJ’s laughter. So he wants to look good. That’s not a crime.

“Don’t worry,” EJ says, somehow still intelligible through his laughter. “You’re still very pretty.”

“Excuse me, I am the prettiest,” Gabe informs him. One minute. “And it has nothing to do with Tyson Barrie.” He pauses. “He’s not behind me or anything, is he?”

“No, unfortunately,” EJ shakes his head. “But you know, the school year’s almost over.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And that means his daughter won’t be in your class anymore.”

“That is how school years work, yeah.”

“So are you going to ask him out, then?”

Gabe snorts. “Yeah, sure, I’ll just ask out the NHL player. Who has a daughter. With a woman.”

“Have you heard his interviews? That man is not straight.”

“EJ.”

“Fine, I’m not speculating or anything.” EJ holds up his hands. “Just saying. You’ll have nothing to lose.”

“Cecy’s still in my class, I can’t think about that now,” Gabe informs him. There are things EJ doesn’t need to know. Like all his silly daydreams about the dates he’d take Tyson out on. But he’s right, too. As long as his daughter’s in his class, Gabe shouldn’t be thinking about that. And yeah, his interviews are–well, Gabe might daydream about what they mean–but Tyson’s never been connected with a man in his career, and Gabe’s not going to define him.

EJ snorts. “You definitely aren’t thinking about anything, for sure.”

“I–” The bell rings, and Gabe straightens, checks his hair one last time. “You’ve got to go.”

“But I want to watch! I–”

“Out,” Gabe orders, and EJ sighs and goes. He pauses at the door.

“Three months,” he points out.

“Out!” Gabe repeats, and EJ goes as the kids stream back in and back to their desks, gathering up their stuff, and then it’s the usual chaos of getting the bus line sorted out as the kids whose parents pick them up wait. Getting everyone sorted actually does distract Gabe, until he straightens up from making sure Matt’s shoes are properly tied and there he is, helping his daughter put her jacket on.

Really, it’s Gabe’s job to check in with the parents. That’s why he goes over to them. “Hi,” he says, and Tyson jumps and makes a noise that is clearly biting down on a swearword.

“Oh, f–hi!” he says, with a guilty look at his daughter, who Gabe is certain has heard worse. “You’re here. Mr. Landeskog. Hi.”

“You said that already,” Cecy points out. She’s a cute kid, with Tyson’s smile and curls and her mother’s eyes and build and snark that could have come from either of them, probably.

“Yes, thank you, Ceec.” Tyson ruffles her hair. His cheeks are a little red. “Let’s definitely talk about how much of a mess daddy is, that sounds great.”

“I’ve seen worse,” Gabe puts in.

“Yeah, but maybe I’d like not to be in the bottom half of the messes you’ve seen,” Tyson tells him with a wry smile. “Just so I have some dignity left to keep me warm at night.”

Gabe bites his lip on the offer to keep him warm at night.

“Anyway,” Tyson goes on. “So. How’s Cecy been? Making trouble?”

“No!” Cecy protest. “I was good. Right, Mr. Landeskog? I’ve been good?”

“Eh…” Gabe wiggles his hand, and she gives the most betrayed look Gabe’s ever seen.

“No! That’s not true.”

Tyson tilts his head at Gabe. “Hm. I don’t know…”

“Daddy,” she whines, and Tyson laughs.

“Yeah, of course. I guess I trust you more than Mr. Landeskog.”

“I’m hurt,” Gabe tells him, and Tyson grins.

“Well, if she’s been good, we can get ice cream.”

“I see. So it’s an ulterior motive?”

“Always. Because ice cream is…” he looks at Cecy expectantly, and she recites,

“Definitely one hundred percent in daddy’s diet plan.”

“That’s right.” He holds up his hand, and Cecy smacks it in a high five. “Okay, you good to go?”

“Yeah–Cara!” Cecy yells, and then darts away to her friend, who’s talking to her mom. Tyson laughs, shakes his head.

“Good thing I’m not in a hurry.”

“Yeah.” Gabe nods. “That was a good game last night.”

“You watched?” Tyson’s eyes go wide, then he keeps going. “I mean, of course you watched, you’ve said you’re a hockey fan before, but it could have been the SHL or something else in Europe, and even in Denver a lot of people keep to the hometown teams, and–”

“I watched,” Gabe interrupts. “That was a nice goal in the second.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“And a good post-game interview,” Gabe goes on, and Tyson groans and glares. “You watched that? Come on, that’s not fair.”

“How many years of interviews have you given?”

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask a boy his age,” Tyson retorts, then adds. “And here I thought maybe I had some dignity left.”

“Dignity’s overrated.”

“Easy for you to say, you look like a Disney prince had a baby with a Norse god even after a day of dealing with third graders.” Gabe refuses to have a reaction over that. Or at least, not until he has some privacy. “Some of us don’t have that luxury.”

“You seem to get by all right,” Gabe points out.

“Yeah, it’s amazing what an NHL salary will do,” Gabe bites down on the definitely inappropriate things he could say about how little an NHL salary would matter to the right person. Who would care about how he’s cute and funny and a great dad and is standing right in front of him. “Which is definitely not what you are here to talk about, right, that’s probably some sort of harassment, sorry, I’ll shut up.”

“It’s fine,” Gabe says, quickly. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re the only one, then. I think even Nate–my best friend–”

“Yes, I know who Nate Mackinnon is.”

“Well I didn’t know! Maybe you only happened to watch yesterday’s game. Maybe you live under a rock and don’t know who Nate Mackinnon is. I don’t know the secret life of teachers.”

“Well, we don’t disappear when school’s over.”

“Yeah, that was a revelation,” Tyson agrees. “First time I saw a teacher in the grocery store I ran and hid behind a pyramid of chicken soup, and then i knocked it over and almost got a concussion.” Gabe can’t help bursting out laughing. Tyson shakes his head, looking rueful but also amused. Of course he’s charmingly self-deprecating. “Now I get that feeling with coaches.”

“They can’t be that much older than you.”

“Are you calling me old, Mr. Landeskog?” Tyson retorts, stressing the ‘mister.’ “Because I’ve got an entire hockey locker room who can vouch for the fact that I’ve never grown up.”

“Well, I’ve seen Cecy’s registration forms, Mr. Barrie,” Gabe replies, smirking.

Tyson makes a face. “Ugh. Please no Mr. Barrie.”

“Is that your dad?”

“No, that’s the front office whenever they’re pissed at me. Or my agent, which is worse. I mean, the front office can fire me, but my agent can really fuck me over.”

“You’ve played in the same town for most of your career.”

Tyson’s eyebrows go up. “Which you know?” he asks. “Are you a fan, Mr. Landeskog?”

“I told you I watched your game,” Gabe tells him, willing down the blush he knows is coming.

“Yeah, but there are fans and there are fans. I knew you were a fan, but that’s different from being a fan and knowing player histories. Especially mine, I mean. There are people who know Nate’s name, and then there are people who know my name, eh?” Tyson grins. “So are you a fan?”

Gabe glances around, but Tyson grinning at him and fuck it, there are only a few months left of school. He can do this much. “Maybe I’m just a fan of yours.”

Tyson’s face goes red, and his mouth does something that doesn’t make noise but does make Gabe have to concentrate not to look at his lips. “Well, then you’re one of the only ones,” he finally comes to the conclusion. “But I’m glad to have one, at least. And one like you.”

“Like me?”

“You know, a fu–freaking–prince.” Tyson glances up at him, and Gabe is definitely not imagining that look. He wasn’t going to speculate about interviews, but he knows what it looks like when he’s being checked out. “Could do worse, I guess.”

“I’m flattered,” Gabe retorts, and opens his mouth to say more, but then–

“Dad!” Tyson’s hit with four feet of eight year old. “Can we get ice cream now? Can Cara come?”

Tyson’s focus immediately shifts, but his ears are still red. “Did Cara’s mom say she could?” he asks.

“Yes!” Cecy insists, stomping her foot. “Da-ad, let’s go!”

“Duty calls,” Gabe tells him, and Tyson looks at him, sidelong.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess it does. It was nice talking to you, Mr. Landeskog. I mean, it always is, but it was especially nice today. Not for any particular reason. Just because–”

“Dad!”

“Yeah, right.” Tyson runs a hand through his hair. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees, and watches as they go, Tyson’s hand slipping easily into his daughter’s.

He waits until they’re out of the room before he fist pumps, because he has that much dignity at least.

///

“Congratulations.”

“Oh, shit.” Tyson nearly drops his bottle of water, juggles it a little, but manages to catch it. “Oh, shit,” he repeats.

“It’s okay, I know you’re not smooth,” Gabe manages not to laugh as he slides into place next to Tyson and the big blonde guy next to him who is definitely Nate Mackinnon.

Tyson makes a face at him. “I’m a professional athlete, I’m usually at least coordinated.”

“Didn’t you break your leg off the rink at Worlds a few years ago?”

“Yes, and no one knows why–no one,” Tyson stresses, stabbing a finger at his friend, who’s laughing behind his hand. “No one, Nate, shut up.”

“Shutting up.” Nate holds up his hands, then looks at Gabe, definitely sizing him up. Gabe lets him, meets his eyes squarely. “So you’re the famous Mr. Landeskog?”

“Nate!” Tyson groans, elbowing him. Gabe can’t help but grin. He was pretty sure he wasn’t reading this wrong, but this sort of confirmation is always good.

“I think we can say Gabriel, now that the school year’s over.” Gabe holds out a hand.

Nate takes it. “Nate Mackinnon.” His handshake isn’t hard, but it’s strong in a way that makes it clear this is a man who works with his body for a living. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

“And now he’s going to go find Cecy, and distract her for a few minutes” Tyson announces, shoving at Nate. “And not be here. Good bye.”

“But Brutes–”

“Not here,” Tyson repeats. It’s unclear the shoving is actually doing anything, given the good six inches Nate has on him, but Nate goes regardless, with a jaunty wave to Gabe. “Anyway. Sorry about him. He’s here because Cecy loves him but I meant to keep him away from you before he embarrassed me. I don’t need help with that.”

Then he’s just smiling at Gabe, an eyebrow raised like it’s half a challenge, and Gabe considers beating around the bush, doing more of their half-flirting they’ve been doing for months, but it’s been months. “So, as of today, I’m no longer Cecy’s teacher.”

“I thought teachers were supposed to be observant,” Tyson retorts, and when Gabe snorts, Tyson shrugs. “I don’t have to be nice to you to make sure my daughter gets a good grade. You can get the full Tyson Barrie experience now.”

Gabe takes half a step closer. “I’d like that,” he says, making sure to pitch his voice low. He can see Tyson’s adam’s apple moves as he swallows. “Maybe over drinks?”

Tyson swallows again, and his eyes dart around, to all the parents milling about the yard. “You know, there are things I can’t–I won’t be able to do, until I retire,” he says slowly. His eyes are fixed on Gabe, wary now. Serious. Gabe wonders if this is what he looks like on the ice; what he’d look like in bed. “It’s shitty, but that’s how it is.”

“Yeah, I know, I get it.” Gabe takes the second half of that step closer. He’s thought about that. Thought about that, and thought about Tyson’s smile and how he is with Cecy and his arms and his humor. “I’d still like those drinks.”

“Really?” Tyson bites at his lip. “Because I’d get it if you didn’t, being a secret can suck–”

“Well, let’s be real, you’re getting old anyway,” Gabe says, and Tyson bursts out into a laugh even as he reaches out to the nearest flat surface to knock. “And, whatever. Let’s see how much the NHL can speculate about a bromance.”

“Oh it’s a lot,” Tyson says, but he’s still laughing. “But, then. Drinks sound good.”

“Great.” Gabe knows he’s smiling like a lunatic–if only because EJ is giving him ridiculous thumbs up from the doorway where he is talking to, of all people, Nate Mackinnon, which Gabe thinks would make him nervous if he wasn’t so happy. “Tonight?”

Tyson’s eyebrows go up. “I’ve got Cecy tonight. Tomorrow?”

“That’ll do,” Gabe allows. “I can text you the details?” He holds out his phone for Tyson’s number. Tyson enters it, and his fingers deliberately brush Gabe’s palm as he hands it back.

Then he pauses. Gives a smile that’s halfway to a smirk. “You know, I can also sign an autograph, while we’re there. Maybe bring a jersey to sign. If you’re such a fan.”

“I could be into that,” Gabe retorts, mock-thoughtful, and Tyson goes red but looks considering. Oh, Gabe thinks. This is going to be good.

#avs fic #my fic #i do not actually know the ethics of dating parents of students so this sort of semi-handwaves any policies that might be in place #instead have some fanboy Gabe because apparently I'm into that!#scoresfromhisknees #avs tumblr fic

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mittensmorgul · 7 years ago

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I’ve seen multiple posts about how 13.21 referenced both Stand By Me as well as LotR (I mentioned it here but I know there were other posts that explained it in much more detail in case anyone doesn’t recognize all the references). And I’ve thrown around a couple of comments on how the episode directly referenced a LOT of the first half of s8 of The Walking Dead but I haven’t seen anyone write anything more detailed.

I intended to wait to see how the rest of the season turned out before writing anything more detailed, because this episode was written long before the second half of s8 of TWD was finished airing and I have no idea if Bobo knew spoilers in advance or if he was only using this as a sort of one-off parallel within this episode alone, but thematically there have been a number of other TWD references this season, from all the zombie comments in 13.06 to the Zombie Mom Witch in 13.12.

Anyway, below a cut in case anyone doesn’t want s8 TWD and current Fear The Walking Dead spoilers.

I mentioned in another post that I was essentially convinced by the end of Sam’s opening dream sequence that something terrible was gonna happen to Sam by the end of the episode... because TWD has been using a similar opening scene for a while now. Both on TWD and also on Fear TWD.

Essentially the “dreamer” is dead in every case (the notable unresolved “dreamer” whose fate we aren’t entirely sure of is Madison in Fear, but she’s now also been featured in Nick’s dream in the episode he died in so...)

But I want to focus on Carl’s dream sequences from the first half of s8. Because there were a number of them through the first eight episodes, and it wasn’t entirely clear that they were dreams at first. They seemed to show flashes of a “happy future” where his family was all safe and healthy, living a normal sort of “apple pie” life in their home in Alexandria. His little sister was older, his father had gone a bit greyer and walked with a cane, Michonne was still with Rick and happily being mom to Carl and an older Judith. Basically imagine a Walking Dead version of Sam’s dream, where they’re all around the table safe and happy and just living.

We didn’t really get a full understanding that these were specifically CARL’S dreams until the episode he was bitten (which aired December 10, 2017, so likely while Berens was working on this draft).

Clearly Sam’s “bite” went down a lot different than Carl’s did. But the part of the AU where Sam was attacked bore a lot of resemblance to the area where Carl and Siddiq had been walking together:

Path through the woods with hungry monsters waiting to eat them. But let me back up for a moment and explain why he was even out there.

Kindness.

He lived in a barricaded little town called Alexandria, who have allies in other groups such as The Kingdom (heh), Hilltop, and a broken relationship with a group of women living hidden in a community called Oceanside. All of these groups have been struggling under the oppressive rule of the Saviors (ie that group led by John Winchester Negan and his barbed-wire baseball bat called Lucille that Dean had in 12.15). At the beginning of s8, Carl’s father Rick had essentially been in what Mr. Mittens politely refers to as “kill mode.” They’d been betrayed and suffered heavily from the Saviors, who rule their territory with an iron fist and a steady campaign of terror and intimidation against any group they see as a potential resource.

(they’re basically awful, okay?)

But Carl is an odd duck. He’d spent quite a bit of time talking to Negan (not entirely by choice, because Negan is generally awful, but also had a weird soft spot for Carl, despite having threatened to force Rick to chop of Carl’s arm the first time they all met... it’s a disturbing show, sorry). Rick has never been able to forgive Negan for what he did (not just the psychological torture and threatening Carl, but also killing Abraham and Glen in cold blood just to intimidate and hurt the rest of them, and Maggie will never forgive him for killing Glen-- i.e. the father of her unborn child).

Which brings us to the people TFW+Gabe met in the woods-- a dark-haired woman called Maggie and a dude carrying a baseball bat. Interesting pair, no? Because in TWD if Maggie ever came face to face with Negan she’d claw his face off with her bare hands.

Okay now back to why Carl was in the woods. Back when Rick had been in Kill Mode, they ran across a man in the woods named Siddiq who Carl had wanted to help, but Rick shot at him to scare him away. Rick wasn’t in a mood to trust anyone, and especially not lone strangers in the woods. Carl apologized and began sneaking food out of Alexandria and befriending Siddiq. This went on for 8 episodes... bringing him supplies in secret and learning about the man. Which is what he’d been doing when they were ambushed by walkers.

Meanwhile back at home, one of the Saviors had turned traitor and was secretly helping Rick and his people escape an ambush (heck there’s so much of revenge and deceit involved in explaining Dwight’s motives here... but basically half the season is about revenge, and the fact that getting revenge is just... not worth it... sound familiar?)

So Carl had been out there in the middle of all this danger and (essentially) warfare to do a good deed for someone. And in the fighting, he’d accidentally been bitten by one of the walkers. (Sound familiar?)

The differences between Sam and Carl’s deaths:

Walker bites don’t kill instantly. It can take days to succumb to the infection unless the bite itself proves fatal, and Carl was bitten on his side (think about where Cas got stabbed by the Lance of Michael).

Carl killed the things that “killed him”

Sam’s bite was to a critical artery. If Carl had been bitten on the neck he would’ve been dead in a minute, but they wanted him to live long enough to get home and prepare for his own death. Sam didn’t get that luxury.

Carl didn’t have a handy archangel to resurrect him. Even if it was awful.

He did get to write letters to the people he cared about-- and to Negan-- and say goodbye to his loved ones in person. Sam didn’t. But Sam came back from the dead to address that in person.

Carl met back up with his family in the sewers (tunnels) under Alexandria after escaping the Saviors’ attack

The thing is, Carl had been the Negotiator. He’d been a sort of diplomat between everyone else and Negan, trying to convince everyone to work together rather than keep seeking revenge and trying to kill each other. Just like he’d been nurturing his friendship with Siddiq, and preparing to bring him back to Alexandria despite Rick not wanting him there.

Meanwhile we’ve been seeing hints about the revenge Sam is eager to take out on Lucifer. We saw Dean’s concern about Sam’s motives for helping Gabriel get his revenge against Loki and his children in 13.20, and Dean wanting to take the horrific burden of vengeance and the utter lack of fulfillment it actually provides off Sam’s shoulders.

It’s interesting that the Negan-coded dude (but not entirely, because his baseball bat didn’t have barbed wire wrapped around it) ended up biting it (pffft) in that tunnel and is never mentioned again. Maggie attempts to offer sympathy to Dean for the loss of his friend, but she gets nothing back from him.

Anyway, Carl left some letters behind (which he writes during episode 9, which didn’t air until February 25, 2018, so two weeks before they began filming 13.21 and likely after the script was finalized) and the contents he shared with Rick and with Negan can be read at those links in their entirety. But here’s a few key points:

You have to find peace with Negan. Find a way forward somehow. We don't have to forget what happened, but you can make it so that it won't happen again, that nobody has to live this way, that every life is worth something.

Start everything over. Show everyone that they can be safe again without killing. They can feel safe again. That it can go back to being birthdays, and school, and jobs, and even Friday night pizza somehow, and walks with a dad and a three-year-old holding hands. Make that come back, dad. And go on those walks with Judith. She'll remember them.

I love you.

Carl

and to Negan:

I hope my dad offers you peace. I hope you take it. I hope everything can change. It did for me.

Start over. You still can.

And at this point I’m singing “It’s never too late to start all over again” in my head.

And while all that was happening in TWD, the Saviors were launching firebombs into their town, as we assume there’s gonna be some more AU Angel “fireballs” hitting in 13.22.

The interesting thing about TWD’s season finale (which aired April 15, or four days before 13.23 wrapped filming), is that Rick finally both lucked out (via a timely bit of backstabbing by Eugene, who’d been considered a traitor when he went to work for Negan and had cost multiple people their lives as a result, but he’d rigged all the saviors’ guns to backfire and kill THEM instead of the people the guns were aimed at) AND took Carl’s message to heart.

He had the perfect chance to kill Negan and get his revenge at last, but he bargained for peace instead, in the face of a HUGE swarm of walkers that could threaten them all if they didn’t work together instead of constantly enacting petty revenge wars against each other.

(but Maggie? She still wants revenge, along with a few quiet others... but that’s for next season. For now, there’s an uneasy truce)

I have no idea what this means for anything else going on in SPN, or what lengths Sam, Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Lucifer, Mary, Jack... and everyone else... will be willing to go to to get “revenge” or to stop AU Michael, but I thought this was an interesting parallel between Sam and Carl in this episode.

#spn s13 spoilers #spn 13.21

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allofthisnonsenseplease · 7 years ago

Text

Another R76 au in which Jack is definitely not a cat person (unless you ask Gabe)

A/N: written based on some stuff Leah & i were talking about a while ago. silliness, and Jack thinking entirely too hard about certain things. =^..^=

Jack Morrison was not a cat person. He didn't hate them, exactly, but he didn't like them, either. As far as he was concerned, cats belonged in barns to control rodent populations, or—as he'd come to accept, if not understand—in secondhand bookstores to judge the customers as they browsed. He didn't think cats were evil or heartless, but there was something off-putting about the way they stared, something in their eyes that always made him suspect that they knew more than they were letting on. They were all so...alien-looking. And they cheated at physics. Jack was pretty sure that Douglas Adams had gotten it wrong—if the world was one giant lab set up with humans as the test subjects, it wouldn't be mice running the show, but cats.

Taking all that into account, he wondered, not for the first time, how he had ended up sitting at his favorite bar, looking at photos of a little white cat with stubby legs, while the creature's owner sang her praises.

Jack took a sip of his drink and let his gaze slip from the phone screen held between them, down to the leg of the man sitting next to him. Dark blue jeans hugged his calves and strained around thickly muscled thighs that Jack really wanted to become more intimately acquainted with. His eyes traveled up, past a gorgeous ass unfortunately firmly ensconced on the bar stool, trim waist and flat stomach, nice chest hidden beneath a gray hoodie bearing a few stray cat hairs, broad shoulders, and....

“Jack?”

His eyes snapped up at the sound of his name, meeting those of the man who had been regaling him with tales of his cat for the past half hour. The man's name was Gabriel.

He was a goddamn angel.

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

They'd met at the gym. Jack had noticed Gabriel almost immediately. Who wouldn't have? He was huge, and all of it, from what Jack had seen, was muscle. There was a presence about him, too, something commanding, and the ball chain disappearing into his tank top suggested dog tags. He had a bad case of resting bitch face, but he smiled easily enough that Jack made him for a genuinely friendly guy. That assumption proved itself true when, seeing him hovering indecisively near a weight bench, Jack had wandered over and asked if he needed someone to spot for him.

Gabriel had lit right up, and Jack had been unprepared for the full force of that smile. He'd gotten used to being the charming one. It was unexpected to find himself tongue-tied. Unexpected...but not entirely unpleasant. He smiled back and took his place as spotter and let Gabriel lead the conversation. The topic quickly came around to his pet cat, and Jack let the words flow over him, half lost in appreciation of Gabriel's arms and chest, his warm eyes and sharp cheekbones, the beard that looked like it would scratch so deliciously against delicate skin, the sweat-slicked curls atop his head, even just the quality of his voice.

“You want to get a drink when we're done here?” Jack asked as he finished. He sealed the deal with his brightest smile and added: “You can tell me more about your cat.”

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

“Jack? You all right?”

He managed to drag his focus back to what Gabriel was saying, though he couldn't for the life of him remember anything about the cat.

What had he said her name was? Munchkin? Or had that been the breed? Something with a 'B,' wasn't it?

God, he just wanted to climb right onto Gabriel's lap. He caught himself starting to chew on his thumbnail, and forced his hand down, brushing non-existent dust from his t-shirt.

“She's a real cutie,” Jack said, nodding at the phone. He nearly choked on his beer when Gabriel beamed. The man was unfairly handsome.

“Yeah, Bunny's my little angel.”

Gabriel smiled fondly at the picture on the phone, one of the least flattering ones that made it look like the squat furball's eyes were looking off in opposite directions as she lay tangled up in a ribbon toy. He glanced up suddenly at Jack, smile fading as he made to put his phone away.

“Sorry. Was I boring you? I didn't mean—”

“No, no. Not at all.” Jack was willing to put up with a lot more than just some uninteresting conversation if it meant improving his chances with a guy like Gabriel. He smiled winningly, and raised his beer in a mock toast. “I love cats.”

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

Gabriel gave Jack his number before they parted, and drinks after their workout that night turned into a couple days of texting followed by a date. They met at the gym, worked up an appetite, showered off (separately, to Jack's dismay, although his imagination was loudly opinionated on exactly what he was missing), and walked to a nearby pub for dinner. Dinner turned into drinks turned into three hours gone in the blink of an eye as they talked and laughed and Jack admired Gabriel's laughter and his voice and the way his mouth moved, lips and tongue shaping words that Jack did his best to focus on past his desire to bring Gabriel home and find out what those lips felt like against his skin, what his voice would sound like breathless with need, what the contours of Gabriel's body would feel like beneath his hands. Yes, it was fun talking with Gabriel—although the stories about his cat were just a bit too numerous—but Jack wanted something other than simply a date run long.

They parted ways at the pub. Jack mourned the missed opportunity, but Gabriel smiled for him and said they should do it again soon, and Jack's heart made a funny sort of leap in his chest that forced out his “Yes!” just a beat too quickly, a shade too enthusiastically. Gabriel wasn't a sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy. Jack could respect that. There were plenty of other guys he could hook up with. It wasn't as if he was desperate.

Still....

As he walked home, there was no use trying to lie to himself about being eager to see Gabriel again. And it had been a nice date, all in all, just not entirely what Jack had been hoping for. Next time, then, he told himself, and made do that night with the memory of Gabriel's warm voice and crooked smile, letting his imagination fill in a few blanks as he stroked himself to quell the unsatisfied need that had lain banked since their first meeting and had flared to life over the course of the evening.

They had their second date the very next night. Gabriel picked the restaurant this time—a Thai place Jack had never tried before, but immediately added to his list of favorite places to eat. It wasn't far from his apartment, and his hopes for the end of the evening soared higher as the comfortable vibe they'd found carried over. He couldn't seem to stop fidgeting—tugging his shirt straight, brushing dust off his clothes, smoothing down his jeans. When he asked as they were leaving if Gabriel wanted to come over to his place, he had to force a casualness that he didn't feel. Gabriel's quiet “Sure.” was a victory.

Utterly pleased with himself, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the darkened glass of a storefront along the way home and paused. Seeing that his hair had begun to droop, he wet the tips of his fingers on his tongue and spiked it back up, preening a bit in his anticipation. After a moment, Gabriel stepped up right behind him and laid his hands heavily on Jack's shoulders.

“Why bother with that now?” he murmured in Jack's ear. “I'm only going to mess it up as soon as we get back to your apartment.”

A shiver ran straight down Jack's spine. He wasted no further time heading home.

It didn't really bother him when, hours later, Gabriel got out of bed and began getting dressed to leave. Jack was used to partners not always wanting to stay the night. So, well-fucked and pleasantly worn out, he bid Gabriel a sleepy good night and curled into the warmth left behind. He was drifting off even before Gabriel had left, but, on the edge of sleep, felt a hand ruffle his hair.

That evening was the first of several more like it. They texted throughout the day, met up at the gym or at restaurants that they took turns suggesting, talked over dinner and drinks and new photos of Gabriel's cat, and ended the night in Jack's apartment, making good use of his bed. Or sofa. Or, once, his shower. Gabriel always left before midnight, always petted Jack's hair as he left, and, as the days passed, Jack found himself wishing that he would stay a bit longer, that Gabriel would fall asleep with him and at least stay until morning.

He brought it up casually, once or twice, but Gabriel left early to be sure his cat was taken care of, and the only solution he offered was for Jack to come home with him instead. Convinced that Bunny would hate him on sight, and that actually encountering her would expose him for the liar that he was, Jack found excuse after excuse to avoid Gabriel's apartment. As much as Gabriel loved that cat, there was no doubt in Jack's mind that Bunny would always come first. It would put a damper on things if Gabriel found out that Jack didn't like cats, and Jack wasn't ready to let their relationship fizzle out. In the back of his mind, he knew it would end sooner or later like all the others...but something about Gabriel made him want to hold on, even if just for a little bit longer.

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

Jack almost thought he'd gotten his wish for Gabriel to stay over one night. They'd cuddled up and drifted off after getting cleaned up, but Gabriel had set an alarm on his phone. The sound of it yanked Jack out of his comfortable stupor, and he grumbled as Gabriel kissed his forehead and slipped out of bed. For a moment, Jack listened to him moving carefully around the room, then he sat up, spilling the sheets into his lap, and turned on the bedside lamp.

“You can go back to sleep,” Gabriel said, picking up his jeans. “I'll lock the door on the way out.”

“They make automatic food dispensers for cats, you know,” he said as he watched Gabriel dress.

“Yeah, but...it's not the same as being there with her. I don't like to leave her alone all night.”

Sighing, Jack lay back against the pillow. He left the sheets low over his hips where they'd fallen, and ran a hand idly over his chest. “What about me?”

Gabriel paused, socks in hand, looking unusually pleased with himself. “What about you?”

“Maybe I don't want to be left alone all night. Come play with me some more.”

He stretched, smirking to feel the sheets slide just a bit lower as he showed off his body and watched Gabriel watching him. He let his hand skim lower, past his stomach, until his fingers stirred the blond trail of hair below his bellybutton. The move didn't get the response he'd expected.

Gabriel chuckled. “You are exactly like Bunny.”

“What?”

At Jack's deadpan response, Gabriel sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over to ruffle his hair...a gesture Jack leaned into until he realized how much it resembled petting a cat, and he batted Gabriel's hand away. That didn't dissuade him. If anything, Gabriel's eyes took on a warmth that left Jack reflexively leaning even closer, bottom lip caught in his teeth. Gabriel cupped his cheek and stroked a thumb over his skin. He let Jack catch up his hand and bring it to his lips to kiss his fingers, suck them gently past his teeth, and run his tongue against the tips. When Gabriel pulled free, Jack pouted briefly, then smiled as Gabriel caressed his throat and ran his fingers down his chest, leaving a trail of coolness and shivers in his wake.

“You and Bunny,” Gabriel murmured, his voice a pleasant, low rumble. “Both of you want the maximum reward for the minimum effort.”

“Hey! That's not—!” His protest stopped short as Gabriel's hand reached the edge of the sheet and slipped beneath to cup him.

“It's all right,” he said, grinning as he began to stroke. “I think it's cute.”

Part of Jack was insulted. He wasn't 'cute.' He was sexy, hot, desirable—any number of things that shouldn't be associated with small, furry animals. He wanted to sit up and protest, make Gabriel take it back...

...but he was getting what he wanted. A bit more time, a bit more of Gabriel's attention and affection. He rocked his hips up into Gabriel's touch and moaned softly.

He could definitely bear being cute, if this was what it earned him.

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

“I'm telling you, Ana, he loves that cat more than me.”

'Jack...exactly how long have you been seeing this man?'

“Not the point,” he muttered, grateful that she couldn't see the embarrassment reddening his cheeks over the phone. He never should have called her up over this, but Gabriel had left immediately after that consolation hand job the previous night, and Jack was starting to panic over the thought that he was losing to a cat.

Saying 'love' had been...simply the most accurate way to describe Gabriel's attachment to his pet. It had no bearing on Jack's own feelings at all. As if he even could start to fall for someone in.... How long had he been seeing Gabriel? A couple of weeks? It couldn't have been more than—

'Jack?'

“Sorry, Ana, what were you saying?”

She sighed. 'I was saying that you're being ridiculous. Don't go looking for problems where there aren't any.'

“This isn't a fake problem! People always put their pets first. And you know I don't get along with cats.”

'I can tell you think this is important, which is why, instead of hanging up and considering this a waste of my time, I am going to suggest that you ask yourself if it is truly likely that all cats everywhere have an intrinsic dislike for you and, if so, if you honestly believe, in your heart of hearts, that Gabriel will dump you for not being as enamored with his pet as he is.'

Jack thought for a moment. Then: “You don't understand.”

'I'm hanging up now, Jack. Good luck with your paranoia.'

“Ana, wait!” The line went dead, droning heartlessly until he hit the end call button. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and paced the living room. “I'm not making this up,” he muttered to himself.

He was going to have to work something out, and soon. He was running out of excuses to avoid going over to Gabriel's place, certain that Bunny would take an instant dislike to him and ruin everything. Or just get cat hair all over his clothes. Maybe crap in his shoes. Cats were sneaky.

The point was: Bunny would sense his dislike. She would know he had lied to Gabriel. Jack didn't want an angry cat throwing a wrench into this relationship. Things were going so well! Better than they had in a while, he realized. It was more than just great sex—there was a connection with Gabriel, he was sure of it. He was also sure that if Gabriel found out that he was the cold, heartless sort who couldn't love the little cat Gabriel was so devoted to, then that would be the end. Jack didn't know what the future might have in store for the two of them, but for the first time in a long time, he wanted to find out. He would have to keep the cat issue under wraps until he'd racked up enough points in his favor to stop it from being a deal-breaker. He just needed a bit more time. After all, even counting that first night when all they'd done was get a drink and exchange numbers, they'd only been seeing each other for...

Jack did a quick count backward and halted in his pacing. Without noticing it, he'd started biting his thumbnail again, and he yanked his hand away from his mouth as he muttered to himself: “Shit. It's been almost a month.”

Time had flown. He realized that he might be in a bit deeper than he'd thought.

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

Jack's sofa was gray. The salesperson had called it “charcoal gray,” and said it was “neutral” and would “go with anything.” It matched some of his decor. The TV was black, so far, so good. The TV stand was chrome and glass. The glass had a faintly greenish tint. His coffee table was a battered, solid oak monstrosity that had moved with him from Indiana and been in the family for who knew how long before that. The bookshelves were black-laminated plywood. His dinette was more chrome and glass (the glass had a faintly grayish tint). The carpet was basic apartment beige, the walls were the sort of matte white that always managed to look dingy, and the vertical blinds in front of the sliding door out onto his tiny balcony were eggshell. The sofa failed to bring everything together as promised, but it was comfy and, as far as Jack cared, that was what mattered.

It was a mishmash, but it was saved from being a dull mishmash by the plants. A vase of sunflowers sat to one side of the coffee table. They'd been a cash crop back home, but he'd found that keeping some in the apartment dulled the occasional sting of homesickness. The rest of the plants had accumulated for much the same reason. An enormous peace lily took up most of the corner between the TV stand and the balcony doors, and African violets peeked out from his bookshelves. A kalanchoe with bright yellow flowers sat on the kitchen table. When he pushed the blinds aside, the last rays of fading sunlight streamed in past the container garden that took up most of his balcony—planters of succulents, pots of begonias, hanging baskets overflowing with petunias, even a small grape tomato plant. He'd hung bird feeders up to either side. It gave him something to watch while he had his morning coffee.

Two days after he'd been abandoned in favor of a kitten who he was sure couldn't possibly be as lonely as her owner claimed, Jack had another date planned with Gabriel. Didn't everyone always say that cats were solitary creatures? They were supposed to be able to get along fine on their own. Bunny just had Gabriel wrapped around her stubby paw. She probably already hated Jack. He was competition.

He stalked through the apartment, making sure everything was cleaned up and set to rights. Originally, they had planned to go out for dinner, but Gabriel had texted him earlier to ask if he would mind changing things up. Now, Gabriel was on his way with fixings to make dinner. They were going to cook together and watch movies on the couch. Jack wasn't sure what had put the idea into Gabriel's head, but he was happy enough to go along with it. Although he'd had boyfriends that cooked for him once or twice, he hadn't ever cooked with someone like that. He was looking forward to it.

The sunflowers on his coffee table were wilting. Wishing he'd had time to pick up some fresh ones, Jack threw them away and rinsed out the vase. The table looked bare without them, and the room seemed suddenly colorless. Turning to the patio doors, he flicked on the balcony light against the growing darkness. His little container garden looked odd at night beneath artificial lights, but at least it would liven up the room a bit.

Realizing he was fussing over nothing, that Gabriel had already seen his apartment under more cluttered circumstances, Jack tried to sit down and relax. He told himself that this wasn't a big deal. It was casual. The assurances felt like lies. Casual, yes, but intimate. They were going to be cooking together, in his tiny kitchen. This wasn't just a couple guys grabbing a bite before heading back to an apartment to fuck, this was domestic. Nervous energy had him smoothing down his navy v-neck shirt, plucking at the slightest suggestion of dust, brushing imaginary wrinkles out of his khakis. More than almost anything at the moment, he wanted to be able to go for a jog or head to the gym for a few rounds against a punching bag. He shouldn't be so damn unsettled! This wasn't as big a deal as his nerves were making it out to be.

Part of him wanted it to be a big deal, though, which didn't help at all.

He was chewing his thumbnail when the sudden knock at his door broke into his whirling thoughts. It startled him badly enough that he jumped out of his seat, banging his shins against the coffee table. With a hiss he stumbled around it and hurried for the door.

“Coming!”

He pulled the door open and went still as stone, expression freezing in the middle of shifting from a pained grimace to a welcoming smile. The impulse to slam the door was strong enough that he had to tighten his fist around the knob until he could almost feel it creaking under the pressure. Gabriel stood just across the threshold, grinning and holding up a little ball of white fur that didn't look at all happy to be there.

“Say hi to Jack, Bunny!” Gabriel turned his grin onto the cat, giving Jack a much needed moment to shake off the unwelcome surprise.

“You brought Bunny.” The false enthusiasm he'd tried to buoy his voice with fell flat. Thankfully, Gabriel didn't seem to notice.

“Yeah. She's been dying to meet you. Here! Hold her for a sec while I bring all this in.”

Before Jack could protest, Bunny was thrust forward into his arms. He scrabbled, trying to get a good hold on the cat—dropping her would be like dropping Gabriel's flesh-and-blood child—without actually touching her any more than was necessary. He felt the warning prick of claws against his hands as Gabriel turned away.

“Uhh...Gabe?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. We talk about her all the time, but you haven't been able to come over. Besides—” His smile as he turned around with a cat carrier in one hand and grocery bags in the other was far more suggestive than his grin had been. “—now I can stay the night with no distractions.”

One very big distraction squirmed in Jack's hold as he stepped aside to let Gabriel in. Bunny was soft as dandelion fluff, and not pleased with her situation. She meowed imperiously as Gabriel leaned in to give Jack a quick peck on the lips.

“Happy one month anniversary.” He slipped past Jack to set the groceries on the dining table and the cat carrier on the floor.

The reminder of a realization he'd only just come to the day before kick started Jack's brain. He smiled, hiding his discomfort as best he could while he fought to—gently—keep hold of the increasingly wriggly Bunny.

“So that explains the change of plans,” Jack said. “I was just thinking about that the other day, but I hadn't really expected we'd do much for it.”

Gabriel looked back at him, smile fading. “Too much? I just thought—”

“No, no!” Jack moved in for another kiss, sweet and lingering, and managed to pass Bunny off in the middle of it. “Cooking together, relaxing on the couch with a movie, and I get to keep you all night? We can celebrate every week if it means more dates like this.”

The words had just spilled out. Had that been too much? Was he being clingy? It had been so long since he'd wanted anything more than a good fuck out of a partner that he wasn't sure—

With his hands full of cat, Gabriel couldn't pull him into a hug, but he did catch Jack's lips in another kiss which only ended as Bunny began to protest. Laughing, Gabriel pulled away and soothed her with scratches behind her ears.

“Spoiled little imp,” he said affectionately.

Jack felt a sudden, acute spike of jealousy.

“Do me a favor, Jack, and move the lily and the kalanchoe out onto the balcony.” He caught Jack's look of bewilderment and added with an apologetic smile: “They're poisonous to cats. I had to look up the kalanchoe, but with lilies it's pretty common knowledge.”

Thinking that if Bunny wasn't smart enough to avoid eating poisonous plants, then she was obviously an evolutionary dead end, Jack nevertheless took his plants outside without a word of protest. He heard his door open and shut again, and turned to see that Gabriel had brought in one more thing. With Bunny now loose and sniffing around behind him, he came forward with a dwarf sunflower in a red ceramic pot painted with little black cats.

“Happy anniversary,” he said again, handing them to Jack along with another brief kiss.

Bunny meowed her disapproval, and Gabriel pulled away, laughing softly as Jack tried to marshal his warring delight and dismay.

“Do these need to go outside, too?”

“Nope.” Gabriel was practically beaming. “Your favorite flowers are cat friendly.”

“Great.” Smiling past the looming knowledge that he was a fraud, he set the flowers on the coffee table, and skirted around Bunny as she approached to sniff his feet.

“She won't bite.”

Jack looked up, startled to see Gabriel watching him with a crooked smile. “Oh. Yeah, I just.... She's so small, you know?”

He saw Gabriel's expression change, saw the smile widen, lips parting to reveal a glimpse of white teeth, saw it crinkle around the corners of his eyes, saw such clear affection focused on himself that it made his heart speed up. Jack felt himself heat up and knew he'd be blushing from the top of his chest all the way up to his ears. He clenched his fists at his sides and locked his knees, because if he moved, he was going to rush straight into Gabriel's arms and once that happened, they were not going to be getting around to cooking dinner anytime soon.

“Just be gentle with her, Jack. She'll love you.”

Jack wasn't convinced. He was certain that cats could tell when people didn't like them, and Bunny, with her stubby legs and suspicious stare and white fur that was going to get everywhere, was not exactly a welcome guest in his apartment. He moved out of the way to watch from a corner near the balcony door as Gabriel began pulling things out of bags to make Bunny at home. He had a small, plastic tray and litter, a pair of bowls, bagged food, canned food, three cat toys, and, stuffed into the cat carrier, a small, plush cat bed. Jack's pristine floor was soon scattered with Bunny's things. The cat meowed and rubbed against Gabriel, begging as he poured out a measure of dry food for her to eat, and playfully scolded her for her whining, reminding her that it wasn't yet dinnertime and that she'd get her wet food in just a little bit if she was patient and behaved. He talked to her as if she could understand.

It was only once he was done making Bunny at home that Gabriel began unpacking the things he'd brought to make dinner with. Jack eased out of his corner and slipped into the kitchen, watching Bunny warily the whole while, though she never once looked up from her food. On his way, he caught sight of his shoes next to the door. He had no good excuse to move them—'I don't trust your cat not to piss in my shoes' probably wouldn't go over well—so he crossed his fingers and hoped for the best. Maybe if he kept out of Bunny's way, she wouldn't take exception to him.

In the kitchen, Gabriel was arranging the ingredients he'd brought on the counter, and going through the cabinets, pulling out pans and utensils. Jack stepped up behind him, a bit closer than he strictly needed to even in the small space, and ran a hand across Gabriel's lower back as he came around to his other side to take a closer look. He noted the two bottles of wine with interest as Gabriel put a carton of strawberries and a covered steel mixing bowl into the fridge.

“What's on the menu?”

“Filet mignon with a balsamic glaze, steamed asparagus and grape tomatoes with Parmesan, and baby red potatoes. And I brought strawberries with homemade whipped cream for dessert.”

Jack blinked in surprise. “What, no bread to cover that last food group?” He was pleased to earn a soft laugh, and moved in closer, leaning against Gabriel and setting his chin on his shoulder to peek as he finished sorting things out. “That sounds complicated. Would it have been easier for me to come over?”

“It's simpler than you think.” Reaching up, Gabriel ruffled Jack's hair affectionately. “Wash up and help me chop potatoes.”

They got to it, Gabriel giving each of the baby reds a quick scrub, then handing them off to Jack to be chopped and tossed into a pot, then set to boil. “They'd be better roasted, really, but I was planing more for speed tonight,” he admitted. His smile turned smug, and there was a teasing note of challenge in his voice as he added: “Maybe next time, I'll have you over instead so I can take my time cooking something up.”

Jack's stomach flipped, and for a moment, he couldn't remember why he'd kept dodging Gabriel's invitations. Then, as if realizing that her presence had slipped Jack's mind, Bunny stalked into the kitchen, tail held high, and rubbed against Gabriel's leg, crying for his attention. Gabriel only laughed and assured her that he didn't have anything she would want to eat, winking at Jack as if keeping filet mignon from the cat was a joke they were sharing. He did, however, pull one of the dinette chairs near the edge of the counter and lift Bunny up onto the seat to give her a better view of what was going on. She cried and batted her paws for attention, even lifted up on her back feet, but aside from the occasional word of reassurance, Gabriel turned his attention back to cooking. Eventually, she gave up, quieted down, and resigned herself to simply watching.

Doing his best to ignore their audience, Jack clung to Gabriel like a burr, hands pressed against his back, chin resting on his shoulder, watching him work. Gabriel seemed not to mind as he rinsed off the asparagus and sliced away the dried bases of the stalks before putting them into a skillet, running some water over them, and setting them aside. The steaks got a coating of salt and pepper on both sides, then placed in their own small skillet. By then, the potatoes were just beginning to simmer, and Gabriel turned on the heat to steam the asparagus.

When Gabriel sidled away from the stove, Jack followed, hands slipping down to settle at his waist, fingers rubbing lightly just above the hem of his jeans. He grinned as Gabriel turned in his arms to kiss him, letting Jack press him against the counter. They shared slow kisses, a smack of lips, a breath in parting, the slightest tilt of their chins to bring their lips together again. Gabriel's palms were planted on the counter top. Jack's fingertips rested lightly on his waist, trembling with the need to explore, but reluctant to disturb the soothing give and take. He leaned into Gabriel, soaking up the heat of his body, delighting in how pleasantly they fit against one another. The moment dragged out, and might have gone on longer had it not been for a soft thud and a demanding meow and the feel of paws stepping on his feet as Bunny wormed her way in-between them.

Gabriel pulled back with a laugh, and looked down at his cat. “My sous chef says it's time to put the steaks on.”

“Why does the cat get to be the sous chef?” Jack grumbled. He slipped his hands beneath Gabriel's shirt to knead at his skin.

“Because she is actually being helpful.” Gently but firmly, he took hold of Jack's wrists and pulled his hands away, then turned back to the stove.

Despite what he'd said, he didn't shrug Jack off when Jack once more settled his chin on Gabriel's shoulder to watch him cook. He switched on the burner for the steaks and seared each side, then reached for one of the wine bottles and a cruet nearly full with a dark liquid. Turning down the heat, Gabriel poured a measure of both into the skillet as Jack sniffed appreciatively as the aroma of cooking meat mixed with the bitter scents of wine and balsamic vinegar, and the lighter smell of the asparagus. Gabriel covered the meat and checked on the greens, then reached for the small carton of grape tomatoes.

“Want to halve the tomatoes for me?”

Jack considered for a moment, then nuzzled the crook of Gabriel's neck. “No.” God, he smelled so good. Even better than the dinner he was cooking.

Again, Gabriel reached up and ruffled his hair, scratching briefly just above his ear. “You're going to have to give me a bit of room, then, so I can do it.” He was grinning broadly, and answered Jack's quizzical look with a quick peck on the cheek.

Wondering what joke he was missing, Jack stepped aside, bracing his forearms along the counter at the far edge. As Gabriel rinsed the tomatoes and piled them on the cutting board, a few slipped free. One dropped to the floor and was immediately attacked by Bunny, who began batting it around the small kitchen. Jack caught another that rolled too close and began absently rolling it on the counter as he watched Gabriel slice the rest neatly in half.

“So, who taught you how to cook?”

“My grandmother taught me the basics, a few favorite family recipes. Mostly, I learn new ones on my own. There's this great resource for that—you might have heard of it. The internet?”

“Ass.” Jack ducked his head, trying and failing to repress a smile. “I know how to find recipes.”

“Oh, yeah? And follow them, too? 'Cause, I couldn't help noticing, Jack, that you have never cooked in the month that I've known you. Everything is take out and leftovers. I had to check to be sure you'd have all the pans I needed last time I was here.”

“So that's why you were snooping in here.” He shifted his weight, hips canting to one side, and studied Gabriel's smirk until realization hit. “You don't think I can cook!” He accused.

Gabriel glanced sidelong at him, eyes bright with amusement. “Going to prove me wrong?”

“Name the date and then prepare to be amazed.” Although Jack's only secret family recipe was for chili, he wasn't about to let that get in the way of a challenge. How hard could it be to pick a recipe and follow the instructions? He could handle this romantic wine-and-dine stuff.

“You done playing with that?” Pointing with his knife, Gabriel indicated the tomato Jack was batting back and forth between his hands. He rinsed it off again when Jack handed it over, then chopped it in half and piled it with the rest. Checking the steaks filled the kitchen with their mouthwatering aroma. Jack rested his hands on Gabriel's shoulder as he peeked. His stomach growled as Gabriel flipped the steaks and spooned the glaze over top of them before settling the lid back on the skillet.

“So?” Jack prompted as Gabriel checked on the asparagus and turned down the heat. “When do you want your delicious, homemade meal prepared by yours truly?”

Steam wafted up as Gabriel drained the water from the skillet into the sink. Without turning to face Jack, he asked quietly: “What about for our three month anniversary?”

A happy little thrill uncoiled in Jack's stomach and shot up his spine. Gabriel wanted to be with him for the next few months at least; was making long-term plans with him! Small long-term plans, yes, but plans nonetheless. He couldn't have stopped smiling if he'd wanted to, and catching a glimpse of Gabriel's cheeks flushed a shade darker than normal was just icing on the cake.

“It's a date!” He tried to sound cool, but his delight spilled over enough for Gabriel to glance over his shoulder and break into a grin. Jack felt like a teenager again, caught in the undertow of heady young love.

The thought knocked the breath out of him. He took a step back, shaking his head to clear it. They'd only been seeing each other for a month. Sure, they'd clicked, but...love? That was a heavy concept. He liked Gabriel. A lot. Wanted to see more of him, get to know him better. Even listening to him talk about his cat had been starting to seem interesting lately, particularly given the way Gabriel lit right up, became more animated as he described Bunny's latest exploits. It made Jack wonder sometimes if Gabriel ever talked about him, if, one day, he might brighten up while talking about Jack to someone.

It was a nice thought, the idea of being someone who made Gabriel that happy.

“I'll go set the table,” Jack murmured. He pulled plates out of the cabinet, as Gabriel added Parmesan and halved grape tomatoes to the pan of asparagus and set it back on the burner to finish cooking.

“This is almost ready, so you can just leave the plates there and I'll serve. Go ahead and pour the wine. The unopened one is for us.”

Wordlessly, trying not to catch Gabriel's eye lest his expression give away his thoughts, Jack fetched a pair of long unused wine glasses from the very top cabinet and brought them and the bottle to the table. The wine was faintly chilled, and he took a long drink of his before refilling his glass. He fiddled with his glass, listening to the sounds of Gabriel moving around in his kitchen plating food, putting the finishing touches on a romantic dinner he'd planned and cooked for their one month anniversary.

This is crazy, Jack found himself thinking. This is going too fast. Since when do hook ups last long enough for an anniversary?

But Gabriel wasn't just a hook up. At least, not any more. And maybe Jack hadn't really wanted an anniversary, but, to be fair, he'd never considered that they might have one. The thought had never even crossed his mind. And now that it was happening....

“Coming through.” Gabriel stepped out of the kitchen with two plates loaded with mouth-watering filet mignon, bright and fragrant steamed vegetables, and mounds of red potatoes sprinkled with herbs and topped with melting butter. Jack looked from the dishes to Gabriel's face, saw pride and affection in his grin, and felt his anxiety easing.

“Looks amazing,” Jack said.

“Smells amazing. And it's going to taste amazing! Sit.” He set their plates down and took the chair across from Jack. As soon as he was settled, he raised his wineglass. “Cheers.”

“Happy anniversary,” Jack said, more pleased to say it than he would have thought possible.

Now that it was happening, he was so glad that this was something he had a chance to make work.

The meal was, of course, interrupted several times by Bunny.

She sat herself on the floor at Gabriel's side, crying for scraps and reaching up to set her paws on his leg when he didn't acknowledge her soon enough. It seemed to Jack that, had Gabriel wanted to break her of that habit, it would be easy enough to ignore her. Instead, he indulged the spoiled feline. Gabriel scraped the glaze off a bit of his steak, then sliced that piece off and cut it into tiny chunks.

“You wanna try some of what we're having? I don't know if you'll like it.”

“I like it,” Jack said, watching Gabriel actually get up from his seat to go put the chopped up filet in Bunny's food bowl.

“She likes to try new things,” Gabriel said as he sat back down. “Picky, though. Steak and hamburgers are okay, but she doesn't like pot roast. And she'll eat tuna all day, but turn up her nose at salmon.”

“You spoil that cat,” Jack said, and immediately could have swallowed his tongue. The accusation had popped out before he could stop it. Thankfully, Gabriel only laughed.

“Yeah. I do.” He caught Jack's eye, and the knowing grin he wore froze Jack in place. “You jealous? Feeling like I don't spoil you enough?”

Jack took a sip of wine, and smiled over the rim of the glass. “You just cooked an amazing meal for me as part of a surprise one month anniversary celebration. I'm feeling a little bit spoiled.”

“Only a little bit?” He leaned back in his chair, studying Jack in a way that sent a shiver up his spine. “I'll have to try harder.”

“When our two month rolls around?”

Gabriel's grin was absolutely wicked, and rousing appetites that had nothing to do with food. “When I take you to bed tonight.”

Jack swallowed hard. “Is there a reason we're waiting?” He was proud that his voice sounded mostly normal.

Smiling, Gabriel speared a grape tomato on his fork and licked it off the end of the tines, eyes on Jack the whole while. “Anticipation,” he said once he'd swallowed it down.

Whatever clever, flirty thing Jack might have responded with was cut off as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see that Bunny had jumped up onto the coffee table and was stalking his new potted sunflower.

“Hey!” He was up out of his seat without thinking, only slowing when he reached the table and realized that Gabriel probably wouldn't appreciate him snatching the cat up from where she had chosen to be. “Shoo,” he said quietly, feeling ridiculous as he flapped his hands a good foot away from Bunny, anxious not to scare her with Gabriel watching. “Go on. Hop down. You aren't supposed to be up here.”

Oh, God. Now he was talking to her as if she could understand. It was spreading.

There was a muffled laugh and a simulated shutter noise, and Jack turned to see Gabriel hiding a grin behind one hand as he held up his phone with the other.

“Smile for the camera, Jack.”

The expression was crooked and awkward, and Jack looked away just as he heard the click because the bright yellow petals in his peripheral vision had suddenly started to shake. Bunny had her paws on the rim of the pot, and he scooped her up before she could overturn it. Holding her out, suddenly unsure what to do, Jack looked to Gabriel for help and was met with another shutter snap.

“See? I told you she'd love you.”

Jack looked doubtfully at Bunny. She was kneading his sleeve, staring at him with an expression that he was pretty sure meant something closer to: 'Put me down or I will make you bleed' than whatever Gabriel believed was going on. Gingerly, Jack lowered Bunny to the floor, making sure all of her paws were firmly settled on the carpet before letting go. She swiped at his fingers, causing him to jerk away and take a step back.

“Just let her be. She's only curious. Once she's given the flowers a good sniff, she'll leave them alone.”

“So you say,” Jack murmured, returning to his chair.

The food was incredible, and Gabriel was the best company he could wish for, but the tiniest sound from the living room snatched Jack's attention away from dinner so often that Gabriel finally suggested that they finish their meal on the couch. Embarrassed to have been so obviously nervous about the cat exploring his apartment, Jack nevertheless agreed quickly. They gathered their plates and glasses and moved to sit on the sofa. As he pulled up a movie on Netflix, Jack decided that he preferred the new arrangement. He tucked himself against Gabriel's side and then tucked into the food, warm and content and still very much interested in Gabriel's teasing promises about where the evening was leading.

Bunny refused to admit defeat. She crawled up Gabriel's leg and nearly onto his plate. Eventually, he had to rest the dish on the arm of the sofa, and hold her on his lap while trying to feed the both of them. Jack cleared his plate long before Gabriel was done and barely restrained the urge to lick it clean. He watched as Gabriel struggled to cut cat-sized bites of filet to feed to Bunny, then leaned in and licked his lips.

“If you aren't going to finish your dinner, I'll be happy to share what's left.”

Side-eyeing him, Gabriel snorted as the corner of his lips quirked up. He cut a bite of filet and fed it to Jack, then offered Bunny a much smaller tidbit before taking another bite for himself. The rest of Gabriel's dinner was divided up similarly. He fed Jack bites of everything, and teased off tiny bits of steak for Bunny. If he hadn't looked so plainly self-satisfied, Jack might have backed off and left the begging to the cat, but something about the expression on Gabriel's face and the almost teasing affection every time he fed Jack another bite kept him butting his head against Gabriel's shoulder and tilting his chin up for more.

Once the last bites had been finished, Gabriel set his plate aside on the coffee table and relaxed back against the cushions. Jack, on the other hand, found himself facing an obstacle. His usual favorite place to rest his head when they watched movies together had been usurped. Bunny sat on Gabriel's lap, purring smugly as Gabriel stroked her fur. Unwilling to risk Gabriel's displeasure by chasing her off, Jack settled somewhat discontentedly at Gabriel's side.

He couldn't bring it up.

He absolutely couldn't bring it up....

But...

Bunny was in his spot!

It should have been his head resting on Gabriel's thigh, his hair that Gabriel's fingers were carding slowly through.

“Not enjoying the movie?” Gabriel murmured.

“What? No, it's all right.” He shifted guiltily, hoping Gabriel wouldn't be able to figure him out.

“It's not as good as I was hoping.”

“No?”

“No.” The hand he'd been petting Bunny with found its way to Jack's thigh and gave him a squeeze. “I don't really think it needs our full attention.”

“Definitely not,” Jack muttered, leaning in to meet Gabriel's lips. They shifted as the kiss deepened, pulling each other closer and quickly forgetting about everything else until an angry meow yanked their attention back to the present and the disapproving ball of fluff stubbornly clinging to her perch on Gabriel's lap.

“Telling us to get a room, sweetie?” Gabriel asked with a laugh. Gently, he shooed Bunny onto the floor, then stood and pulled Jack up after him. His smile crinkled up the corners of his eyes, etching laugh lines into his already handsome face, and making his eyes twinkle. “Come on. Let's find someplace more private.”

Jack was more than happy with that idea.

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

Bunny cried and scratched at the bedroom door nearly the entire time. Vocal to begin with, Jack made it a point to be loud enough to drown her out. He shouted himself hoarse as Gabriel made good on his earlier promise to try harder to spoil him. They wore each other out, finally collapsing in a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked sheets to catch their breath. 'Marry me,' Jack wanted to say, and, in that moment, it wouldn't have been entirely a joke. He laughed breathlessly and let the impulse born of euphoria fade away.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he muttered, and winced to hear the rusty grating of his voice.

Gabriel nuzzled closer and kissed his neck lazily. He had an arm slung over Jack's body, fingers barely stirring against the skin of his hip. “You listened,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“When we got drinks together that first night, and you tried to pretend that you like cats.”

“I do like cats,” Jack insisted. He tried to sit up as a dawning panic chased away the warm stupor of the afterglow, but Gabriel slid an arm up his chest and held him down. “What makes you think I don't like cats?”

“It's okay, Jack.” His quiet laugh rumbled between them. “I've known from the start. You're not as good a liar as you think you are.”

Not liking this revelation one little bit, Jack huffed and tried to sink even further into the mattress. “If it was so obvious I lied, then why go out with me?”

“Well...I know I can be a little...overeager...about Bunny. Most guys I talk to, they make it obvious that they don't care, don't want to listen, would rather talk about anything else. At least you did me the courtesy of encouraging me to go on about her. I figured you deserved a chance after that. And what do you know?” He raised himself up on an elbow so that he could lean down and kiss Jack's lips. “You didn't fuck it up.”

“I lied to you, though. I don't.... Bunny doesn't....”

“A little white lie, told so I wouldn't feel bad going on about something I love. Don't worry about Bunny. She likes you just fine. I was hoping that, once you'd met her, you'd stop avoiding my place.”

“So...you really don't mind that I'm not a cat person?” Even looking up into the warm, reassuring brown of Gabriel's eyes, Jack still couldn't bring himself to say that he wasn't comfortable around Bunny. Gabriel seemed to understand anyway.

“I'm betting that she'll grow on you. If you still feel bad about it, then how about this? You be honest with me about your thoughts on cats, and I'll try to dial back the crazy cat owner stuff. Deal?”

Jack's gaze slid away from his. “I like listening to you talk about her,” he mumbled. “You light up.”

Even lying there in Gabriel's arms, in a room grown stuffy and humid, Jack still felt his cheeks heat up at the admission. He could only keep his gaze averted for so long before his eyes were drawn back up to Gabriel's, and the grin he saw focused on him left his mouth dry. Jack reached out to drag him down even as Gabriel slid fully atop him and caught his lips in a kiss. They moved against each other, ardor sparking anew. Outside the door, Bunny's plaintive meowing picked up again and went ignored.

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

Jack woke before Gabriel and lay still in his arms for a few minutes, savoring the comfort of waking up next to someone. He was careful as he slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. Bunny was curled up on Gabriel's pillow. They had let her in before going to sleep last night. She stretched as Jack got up and pulled on a pair of boxers, watching him with imperious eyes.

“Meow,” she demanded.

Jack raised a finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him. She considered for a moment, then, to his surprise, hopped down and led the way out of the room, tail held high. Obviously she was smart enough to know that, fond of her or not, Jack was willing to buy her silence with food. Shaking his head, he followed after her. Cats were something else.

He fed Bunny and made coffee. Outside, the sun was warming his small container garden. He stood before the patio doors, sipping his coffee and watching birds come and go at the feeders. Bunny stood on her back paws, batting at the door as the birds caught her interest as well.

The soft noise of Gabriel's phone as he took a picture was the first warning Jack had that he'd woken up. Turning around, he saw Gabriel wearing nothing but a hoodie, grinning as he looked at the photo he'd taken. When he looked up to meet Jack's eyes, his grin only got wider.

“I think I have an idea about why you don't like cats, Jackie.”

“I'm still annoyed that you didn't say anything sooner.”

“Says the guy who spent a month lying to me about trivial shit. But seriously. Do you realize that you're practically a cat, yourself?”

“Excuse me?” He bristled, turning fully away from the view out the glass doors. “What, because I watch the birds in the morning?”

“Not just that.” Gabriel crossed the room, holding out his phone. “Here. Look.”

He scrolled through photos of Jack. There weren't as many as there were of Bunny, but there were still far more than Jack would have expected—photos from above of him resting his head on Gabriel's lap, one hand curled into his sweats as if he'd been kneading the fabric, photos of him with his tongue peeking between his lips as he fixed his hair, photos of him chewing on his thumbnail like a cat grooming its paw. There was a series of photos showing him going from sitting in a patch of late afternoon sunlight on the living room floor with a box of take out, to stretched out on his back in the sun, to rolling onto his stomach as he followed the light as it moved across the floor.

“Have you noticed that you'll bat pens and things back and forth when you've got one in front of you?”

“Bad habit.”

“And that if I cup your cheek, you nuzzle into my hand every time?”

“That's normal.”

“You're constantly grooming yourself.”

“I don't want to look like a slob!”

“And there's the fact that the comb you use looks suspiciously like a flea comb.”

“Okay, look. They have steel bristles and my hair's thick enough that I need something that won't break.”

Gabriel was only barely holding back laughter. “You knock glasses off the table all the time.”

“Not on purpose! I have bad depth perception!”

“What about this, then?”

He pulled up a video on his phone, and when Jack leaned in to watch, he saw himself stalking something around his living room as Gabriel laughed quietly, mumbling 'Get it, Jack,' under his breath. In the video, Jack batted at the air once, twice, then lunged forward and clapped his hands together. 'Got it!' he shouted, looking triumphantly up at Gabriel.

“I killed the fly, didn't I?”

“You are a mighty and impressive hunter. Just like Bunny.” He gestured, and Jack turned to see the cat batting at a moth on the other side of the glass doors.

“I don't have to listen to this.” He stalked off toward the short hall leading to his bedroom as Gabriel's laughter finally won out and burst free.

“Oh, come on, Jack. You're only proving my point. I can practically see your tail lashing.”

Gabriel caught up, wrapping one arm around Jack's waist and reaching up to ruffle his hair with his other hand. He kissed the back of Jack's neck and trailed his attentions to his ear, nipping at the lobe. Noticing that her human was paying too much attention to someone else, Bunny lost interest in the outside world and trotted over to weave through their ankles, butting her head against their legs and meowing.

“Bunny. Tell Jack I was only kidding.”

“Maaaow!”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry, I don't speak cat.”

“Jaaack.” Gabriel wrapped both arms around his chest and butted his head against the back of Jack's neck. “Come on,” he said, a smile still audible as he spoke. “What's it going to take for you to forgive this awful mistake I made?”

“Hmmm.... I suppose you could start by cooking breakfast.”

Gabriel snorted and let go of him. When Jack turned around, he was kneeling to scoop up Bunny. Both of them fixed him with knowing stares as Gabriel cuddled the cat and murmured: “Hear that, Bunny? Jack, who is definitely not like you in any way, says I can appease him with food.” His grin stretched suddenly wider. “You know, there's still that whipped cream in the fridge. What do you think? Does Jack deserve some cream as a special treat?”

Giving them the most disdainful stare he could manage, Jack gathered his dignity and stepped past them, heading for the kitchen. “I've got to water my plants.”

He ignored the muffled laughter as he filled up a plastic watering can in the sink and went out onto the patio. Gabriel let him have his space, and soon Jack heard faint noises from the kitchen and assumed that he was starting in on breakfast after all. Just as Jack was coming to terms with the idea that Gabriel might not be completely wrong about certain aspects of his behavior, his thoughts were interrupted by a quiet meow. Bunny had followed him outside.

Glancing back to be sure Gabriel hadn't noticed, Jack knelt down and carefully slid the door shut. It wasn't soundproof, but it would be better than nothing.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Bunny.” He watched her sniff at his plants, completely uninterested in him. Feeling a bit like an idiot, he continued anyway. “You really love Gabe, right? Well...he's pretty important to me, too. So, I just wanted to say, for his sake, that I hope we can get along.”

He reached out very hesitantly and, with another quick check to be sure that Gabriel wasn't secretly taking more pictures, patted her gently on the head.

#cornfuck and the reaper #fanfiction

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