#I just gotta wait for my partner to be available because I promised I would stream it for them so we could play it together

[saucy-mesothelioma]

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Peter Parker - SFW Alphabet

Masterlist

This is for MCU Peter (cuz some of the answers would be different if they were for others lol)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Peter loves affection, but he's got to work through all his nerves first. Just the idea of touching you sometimes is enough to make him start blushing and hiding into himself. But once he finally works through it, affection is always. He likes to receive it, but he LOVES to give it. He basically has all the love languages, but his major two are words of affirmation and physical touch.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Peter Parker is a good best friend...when he's there. He pays attention to all the little things and he always does right when it really counts. He'll geek out with you, help you no matter what, and try his best to make you happy no matter what. However if you don't know about him being Spiderman, it can be a real stress on the friendship, because he'll always seem distant. Once you know, it will be like everything falls into place. You finally understand why he does the things he does. Overall though, he's a stellar friend.

You'd probably become his friend because you sat next to each other in class, or you were already at the Avengers compound, and for whatever reason, the two of you immediately clicked.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

PETER LOVES CUDDLES. And when Peter wants to cuddle, he wants to CUDDLE. He wants to squeeze you and never ever let go. Ngl he'll probably fall asleep while cuddling you because when he's cuddling he's in PEAK zen mode. It's probably the most relaxed that he can be.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yeah he definitely wants to settle down, but he's scared to. It's not that he has commitment issues, it's just that he's so afraid and aware of the dangers of being with him. But if given the chance, he'd probably settle.

He's not completely terrible at cooking, May has definitely taught him a few things. But he's no chef. Let's be real he's probably had a bunch of moments of forgetting that something was in the oven. There will be lots of disasters. When it comes to cleaning, if pressed, he will clean. But don't be surprised when every room in the house is messed up again because of things that he'll "come back for later" that he never comes back for.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oh he'd hate every bit of it, he'd dread over it for days and days. If Peter were to break it off, he'd do it face to face. He'd feel so bad about it, and if you start to cry he actually might comfort you in the midst of breaking up with you.

Best outcome, it was mutual and you guys end like friends. Worst outcome, he gets cold feet and actually just leaves you a note.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's surprisingly cool about commitment, given the dangers of his life. Of course, he's hesitant, but when this dude falls, he falls HARD. So hard to where he'll commit and not think twice about it.

He'd wanna get married whenever it hits him I guess. Not right away, but it's not like he'd have you waiting forever.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically- As gentle as the average teenage boy I suppose lol. Well a little bonus because of how anxious he is of hurting you. 5/10

Emotionally- Peter's more anxious boi than soft crybaby. He wouldn't need comfort on everything 24/7, because he can actually handle way more than people give him credit for, but it's when he's going through something really personal or really traumatic when he needs that reassurance that everything will be alright. 6/10

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Peter doesn't mind hugs, but he's gotta be in the mood for one to really enjoy it, otherwise he's just going through the motions with it. Like if he's in the mood his brain is "oh my gosh you're hugging me this is beautiful you've graced me with your touch you wonderful specimen" but if he's not it's just like "oh... this is unexpected." I don't think he's super into hugs because I kind of like the headcanon that he's a bit of a germaphobe but I don't think he's super against them either. He's more in the middle where if it hits him, it hits him and if it doesn't, he doesn't want them.

He gets in the mood to hug like 20 times a day. You'll be beside him doing work and like out of nowhere. BOOM. Hugged. And then he just goes back to doing whatever he's doing except now he's blushing really hard while doing it.

Peter's hugs are really soft and quick (unless he's cuddling you, then it's really long). He just wants to feel your presence until he's satisfied. He's always really warm so that's a major plus.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not right away. It'll be whenever it feels right. And I picture the first l-word drop going one of three ways:

1) Quirky - you guys will be chilling/making out/watching a movie and he'll find himself feeling really sentimental and emotional for no reason and he'll just turn and be like, "hey, I love you". And it sort of catches you off-guard and he sees your expression (whatever it may be) and he immediately starts blushing and stammering and he's like "I-i mean- no I don't!..I-i mean I do!... but like- not unless you want me too! I-in fact I'll hate you if you want me-" and you have to cut him off with a kiss before he gets too wound up and you softly smile back like "I love you too, weirdo."

2) Sweet - he's thought about this for a long time (and even maybe told May and Ned about it) and he really wants to tell you but he doesn't know how and you notice that's he's been weird around you and always looks like he has something else on his mind (like more than usual) and you're getting pretty worried and after awhile you can't take it anymore and you confront him about it probably at the lunch table or in the hallways after school or at his apartment (is there some mission you don't know about? Is he breaking up with you? Is he okay?) and he's stuttering alot and he finally has to pause and compose himself before pulling you aside and softly telling you how we feels.

3) Angsty - after a particularly intense night at patrol (definitely with a casualty) he's perched on the top of a building, staring out at New York, feeling like the biggest failure alive. He's run down with guilt and the tears just won't stop. Hands shaking, he dials your number and you pick up and immediately start asking if he's okay once you hear his trembling voice. "I messed up," he mumbles before he breaks down and sobs out the entire story to you. You try your best to comfort him as best you can through the phone, trying to tell him (with no avail) that it's not his fault and that he can't save everyone. It takes a while, but he finally calms down enough to clearly take a swing, but not before he says, "look..I want you to know that I love you... and I'll do everything I can to always protect you...I promise you that...I can't lose you," he sobs. Given the situation, neither one of you really registers that this is his first time saying it, but it makes it a dozen times easier to start saying it more often from now on.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Peter's jealousy is probably the average amount for a guy. He doesn't do much with it though. He'll just get really quiet and maybe freak out to Ned about it later. Very subtle looks and jaw clenches but other than that, he's fine. Unless you're really attentive, you probably wouldn't notice.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

When he first started getting into the hang of first dates and stuff, his kisses were pretty fast and more like little pecks on the lips and stuff because he was always so nervous about messing up. But now that's he's gotten the hang of it, Peter's kisses (when he's not in a rush) are usually slow and sensual. He wants to do nothing but focus on you in that moment.

Well mostly on the lips of course. He'll lay his head on your shoulder alot when he's bored so every now and then when he's doing that he'll turn his head and give you a little kiss on your shoulder. If he's whispering in your ear in lunch he'll give a kiss on the cheek. Really though, once he gets the all his jitters out about it, he'll kiss you anywhere.

Peter probably likes to be kissed on the cheek and on the lips more than anywhere else

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Peter is amazing with kids. He'll always find a way to get along with them, and they usually warm up to his easy-going nature. He's a bit of a pushover when it comes to really nice kids so they usually love him because he'll give them anything. I'm not really one of talking about having kids, but he'd be a great father in the future. (But we're not in any rush for him to do that okay😂🤭)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are spent, well first of all waking up (obviously), cuddling, finishing whatever movie you were watching the night before, Peter probably rambling a bunch about whatever he finds himself wondering about, playing video games, and basically just relaxing before May tells you it's time for school.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are spent goofing around with Peter and Ned at Peter's home or chilling with Peter which can literally be doing just about anything (making out, relaxing, deep talks, watching movies, doing homework, etc.). You can do practically anything with this guy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Peter isn't the best about opening up, not because he wants to hide things, but because he isn't on the same wavelength as everyone else when it comes to "important" things to share. Like out of nowhere he'll find himself telling you something and you'll be like "woah I wish I you would've told me that earlier" and he'll just shrug and be like "oh I didn't know that was really important enough to tell". He doesn't tell anything slower or faster it's more like whenever it's on his mind or convenient for him to tell.

But for the most part, if you're important enough for you to know he's spiderman secret, he'll tell you pretty much anything.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not easily angered at all. If anything he's more easily confused then angered. Like if you were trying to make him angry, he'd be more "why are you doing this🥺🤨?!" than "why are you doing this😡?!"

He'd only get angry easily if he'd been going through alot and a bunch of things have been building up, other than that, normally he's a pretty chill guy when it comes to losing his temper.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Oh he remembers practically everything you tell him. Even crap that you've probably forgotten about yourself, he knows. He notices every tiny thing, though he forgets the big stuff sometimes.

Ex: one day May asks him what he wants her to buy at the supermarket for breakfast and he says poptarts because he remembers that you like poptarts from that one time you briefly mentioned how much you liked them and he gets the kind that you like even though he doesn't really like it so that on the days you come over to his house you'll have something to eat...but like legit that same day he forgets that it's your anniversary😬

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He has many favorite moments, one of them being your first date. He was so nervous, and he showed up late, and he'd regretted letting May choose his outfit, and he hated himself for not choosing the restaurant because it'd show that he wasn't assertive enough, and he was pretty sure he stepped in dog crap while he was running to the restaurant and he just knew that he was the worst date ever until finally he got there and you were totally just fine about it. You told him to relax and that everything was fine and you were just glad to have him there, which in turn made him relax. He looked into your eyes and knew there was absolutely nothing to worry about and he had an amazing time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's protective, but not suffocating. Like if he sees something happening to you from afar, he's not gonna step in unless you make it clear that you want him to. For the most part, he'll let you handle things yourself.

Peter's more like a "protect you from the unknown" kind of guy. He's gonna protect you from threats that you don't know are there, and that are probably much bigger than the two of you. Things like death or heartbreak. He'll probably break up with you to "protect" you, which, let's be honest, is complete stupid, albeit noble. Overall, he'll do anything in his power to keep you happy.

Peter doesn't really need protection more so... comfort. He knows the world he lives in. He can defend himself and all that, but at the end of the day, he just wants someone to tell him that everything's gonna be okay🥺

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

With Peter it's either extremely last minute but a little thoughtful (because he probably forgot) or extremely thought through with unbelievable effort. No in between. Truly a go big or go home type deal. Like for your birthday he's either getting you something he's researched on for months that he knew you'd love or you're getting a card that he bought from a Walmart on the way to school with a sloppily written love letter inside that he came up with off the top of his head. At the end of the day it's the thought that counts when it comes to Peter.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He thinks literally everything is his fault🙄. If something bad happens, and he feels that he could've done even the slightest thing to change it, he's gonna beat himself up about it no matter what what you try to say.

Also he's a really busy guy. So if you're one of those girls that needs to be kept or need your boyfriend there all hours of the day, Peter's probably not for you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not too concerned. Like of course he wants to look good or cool or whatever, but he's also learned to be pretty comfortable with himself (at least as far as looks go). He gets pretty insecure sometimes but for the most part he's okay with his looks. He'll totally do himself up if he's trying to impress someone though.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Depends on how close you've become. If he only liked you, he'll be okay. If he loved you, yeah, he'll feel incomplete without you. But only if you break up or if you're hurt or lost or something. If the two of you just haven't seen each other for a while he'll be fine. He's not that sentimental.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Peter has a skirt kink. Skirts. They make him weak. He found this out about himself when he started dating Gwen Stacy. He will practically break his neck to see you in a skirt.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who has extremely poor hygiene. Peter's not the best at hygiene. He's definitely skipped brushing his teeth from time to time, but someone who's a complete slob? It'll just make him feel bad for you. It's a turn off for him. You won't get his affection but you will get his pity.

Someone obnoxious or aggressive. Peter, although anxious, is overall a pretty chill guy. If someone was just on 100 every time he saw them, ngl they'd probably weird him out. Like of course he wants someone with their own personality, but he wants someone with a level of coolness and obnoxious and aggressive people just aren't cool.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of theirs?)

Peter wants to hold something when he sleeps. When he was little, he used to sleep with a stuffed animal, and once he got older he broke out of it. But when he slept with you for the first time (sexually/nonsexually, doesn't matter) all that came rushing back. He'll hold you tightly in his sleep and won't let go unless you make him.

Hope you liked it!!😁😁😁

Tagging mutuals: @allegra-writes, @angelsparkers, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @underoosjae, @chaoticpete, @spidey-reids-2003, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky

[herstarburststories]

Freckles Like Stars

A/N: For @amanda-teaches​​‘ 2kWriter+Reader challenge. Love me some AU!Dean from the last ep. I had so much fun writing this one!

Summary: Dean Winchester, son of HunterCorp’s owner, interrupts your hunt.

Words: 4231 (longest oneshot here so far!)

Prompt: I’ll sleep under the sheets. You sleep on top of them.

Warning: Fluff, bit of angst if you squint, season 15 related but no major spoiler.

Your breath was caught in your throat, avoiding allowing even the smallest noise to come from you. You were observing your supernatural prey from afar, armed with a revolver full of silver bullets and aiming at your target. You bit your lower lip, the flavor of apple lipstick spreading through your mouth as you clicked off the safety. The werewolf was right in your crosshairs when you heard pacing behind you, causing your shot to follow a different angle. It barely hit the werewolf’s shoulder.

Swearing through mumbles you turned around, prepared to kill whatever was after you. Maybe it was a pack of werewolves and not just one. You could hear the previous monster whining as they ran away, and you wished you could murder who was at the barrel of your gun.

“You made me miss the bitch!’’ You pulled the safety back on, putting the weapon under the hem of your jeans to glare at the Winchester in front of you. “You again? Come on!’’

Pulling his hands down, Dean relented after coming to the short conclusion that there was no imminent danger of being accidentally shot by you: “I apologize. It wasn’t my intention.’’ 

You grunted. The mere sight of him alongside the fact that the werewolf had just ran away after a grazing shot was enough to frustrate you for the night. “I already said no to your precious HunterCorp invitation in the most polite way that I could. So here’s something new: you can take your little cooperation and go fuck yourself right up your spoiled ass.’’

“If I remember well enough, your polite decline was very similar to your... outburst.’’ Dean threw a smirk, and you aimed your gun at him in response. He gulped, tugging at his cardigan’s collar. “I didn’t intend to invade your hunt. I wasn't notified that someone was taking care of it.’’

“Obviously, because I don't answer to anyone, much less you. Now step the fuck away from my case or I will make sure you choke on holy water.’’ You started to walk away, leading towards your car. The hunt was done for tonight, but you certainly could hit a bar and have some fun. 

“I can't do that. I already started the protocol—’’

“Shoot it! Burn it! Give it to a dog! You could even lie on it. I don't care,“ you interrupted him, the noises of crunching sticks and leaves under your feet while you looked for your vehicle.

Dean gasped, barely trusting his ears to listen to your blasphemy of his work. “I would never lie on an official report! What do you take HunterCorp for?’’

Dear lord, you wished it was a werewolf behind you earlier or that you could at least shoot him. Just a bit, perhaps a grazing one. Which kind of hunter got so offended about paperwork? And wore a dumbly cute hippie bracelet? It was a mystery how a random creature hadn't ripped it yet.

“A bunch of self-centered bitches trying to control the hunters for the financial benefit of their investors.’’ You swirled, facing him with a lopsided grin. “Listen, Dean, I just want to finish my job, get a whiskey and go to bed before I have to come to this forest again.’’

“I'm certain we can do it faster if we work together.’’

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, buddy. I made myself a promise when I was little: never work with a guy who dresses like Ken.’’

“I don’t look like Ken! If anything, I’m a Superman.’’ Dean huffed. You finally reached your car, throwing the gun inside the trunk while you laughed at his remark. Thankful for the night hiding his heated cheeks, he insisted, “Listen, I can’t abandon a hunt and I could assist you.’’

You sighed, beyond tired to argue with him. It was better to accept his help now than have him mess up with the job again. After all, he was a decent partner in Mexico with John when you bumped into the same case back there. “Okay. You know what we do now?’’

“Find a quiet place and work on the case until it's time to sleep,“ he stated simply, brushing the dust off his pants. When his eyes laid on your face again, Dean caught your furrowed brows and slightly cracked mouth in mild surprise. Maybe you weren't used to taking the most healthy route in self-care when it came to hunts; most rookies on HunterCorp weren't either. Quickly, he explained himself, “A healthy sleeping routine is important for our performance during the hunt.’’

“Your adrenaline can do anything a good night of sleep would. Maybe even more.’’ You winked at him playfully. “If you want to work with me, let's do it my way. Lucky you, my way is much more fun than yours.’’

Your fingertips stroke against the pool table, the feeling of the green-colored acrylic fabric bringing a grin to your face. You looked up at Dean and how out of touch he was in the atmosphere of a callous bar with his cardigan and country club styled clothing. The hunter looked stupidly handsome, especially with the obvious frown on his face as he watched you.

Grabbing one of the available pool cues, you threw it at Dean who was fast to grab it. “Let’s play, Winchester.’’

“I’m not against relaxing, but we are in the middle of a case, (Y/N).’’ He scoffed, resting the end of the stick against the floor — a usual beginner's mistake. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Have you ever played pool before?’’

“What? Of course I — ’’ You tilted your head, gesturing to the way Dean held the stick. His cheeks flushed pink. “No, I have not. I — I don’t usually come to places like this.’’

“You mean a bar? It’s basically the headquarters of a hunter!’’

He shrugged, clutching the cue closer as he spoke, “I go to bars, just not like this. Besides, dad prefers me and my brother to drink from his homemade collection. He likes to spoil us.’’

Part of you wanted to make fun of him, nudge the man a bit more. Which kind of hunter drank homemade beverages, was spoiled of all things and didn’t go to quality dubious bars on a daily basis? If you weren’t aware of his last name, you wouldn’t even believe he was one of your kind.

Yet, you didn’t tease him. Dean’s head hung low and the way he so openly admitted he didn’t fit that place, yet came because you called him felt like an indication that there was a real hunter in there somewhere. The green-eyed man might have invaded your hunt, but he could be a tolerable company. It had nothing to do with how cute he looked with his blushed face. Of course not. He wasn’t the type you’d normally go to, neither you were his, that’s for sure. Besides, Dean was basically the right arm of HunterCorp. So, no. It was just a matter of not being an asshole towards him again. 

Whatever you internally convinced yourself, your voice was tangled with a gentle smile and a softer tone when you spoke now than when you first met him. “Okay, country boy. I’m gonna teach you. Come here.’’

He walked towards you with hesitant steps, probably waiting for you to trick him in some way. You grabbed the pool cue from his hand, placing the stick in the correct spot to hit the cue ball right into the triangle of colorful ones. Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him closer. “Hold here.’’

“Dean, relax!’’ You placed one of your hands on his waist for support, the free one adjusting his posture around the pool cue for more efficiency. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, nervous for having you that close to him. Dean’s heart was racing the way it did when he was in a hunt or driving a bit too fast. It felt good in a different kind of way, like he was running to win a competition and sitting at the table telling funny stories at the same time. He liked it; he wanted more. “Okay, now you gotta to get the white ball.’’

“All right.’’ He mimicked your position, leaning in with both hands gripped tight around the cue stick. Whoever looked at Dean’s features would potentially conclude that he was about to commit an assassination with the way his brows were drawn tightly together, body laced with a tense rigidity.

Being that close to him made your skin tingle. Sure, you could admit he was conventionally attractive when you first met him, but this? The eldest Winchester had never quite evoked much more than passing interest before, but this newfound attraction suddenly struck you like a comet in the middle of a dingy bar. 

“I know it’s not your daddy’s homemade scotch, but I swear you are going to like it.’’ You slapped the counter with a glimmer of delight on your face, sure of your drinking choices. Whiskey might be the love of your life, but you would always have a soft spot for cocktails. Besides, you were certain that Dean would be crazy about this one.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, (Y/L/N).’’ He winked in a humorous way, and you chuckled. The waiter put the drinks on the table, two gorgeous glasses full of a pineapple, vodka, and god knows what else mixture. You pushed one of the cups towards him, your eyes glued on Dean’s as he arched an eyebrow. He grabbed the cup, sticking the straw between his lips before sucking it.

Your cocktail was untouched in hand while you viewed him with a wide-eyed gaze. Maybe the earlier beers and pool playing had gotten to you. Dean pulled the glass away, a stoic expression in place when he looked back at you.

You were about to slap him for creating more suspension than necessary, thinking that he might not have liked it. Instead, his features dimpled in a softer manner, eliciting a light-hearted smile that almost made your chest sigh of adorableness. “It tastes heavenly!’’

“I knew you would like it!’’ You clapped your hands together, both of you temporarily lost into a burst of joyous laughter. Raising your own cocktail, you took a sip before adding, “Now, let me introduce you to the main course: cheap hamburger and fries. You will never want fancy things again. And then, darts! You had good aim in Mexico. Let’s see if you can put it on use.’’

“See you tomorrow!’’ You beamed at him, waving with your keys as you trotted to your car. Dean’s mouth was torn into a grimace. It was the same one he had given you when you said you were going to drive after drinking a bit too much.

“Let me get you home safe, (Y/N). We can call a cab or I can at least make sure you won't crash on your way to the hotel.’’

“First of all, it's a motel.’’ You winked at him jokingly, but Dean just crossed his arms on his chest. God, it felt like being lectured by a professor. You were a hunter! Your tolerance was well beyond the levels of an alcoholic coma, and you still killed monsters after another glass. You didn’t need to be looked after. “I'm not your date, Dean. You don't have to do it. Besides, I can take care of myself.’’

His expression fell at your speech. “Well, still. I'm just worried about your wellbeing for our hunt tomorrow.’’

“Don't worry. I'll make sure to be alive.’’ You unlocked your car, opening the driver's door. Dean sighed, picking up his phone to see if there was an Uber near his location. Elbows resting on the hood of your beloved vehicle, you stared at him for a few moments, analyzing the curve of his pursed lips as he texted out something on his phone. The midnight breeze felt good, and you deliberately coughed to catch his attention. Dean rapidly abandoned his phone to meet your eyes. “’I'll let you know once I get home.’’

You should consider his ensuing smile nothing but polite, but, in your nearly tipsy state, you didn't want to.

You threw the crumbled napkin on the table. “I think you are right. We should check it. Come on, let's go in my car. Driving around the city in different ones isn't smart.’’

Dean nodded, placing perfectly straight dollars near your used paper as you both stood up. “Yeah, it would be more practical. Do you have enough werewolf-killing bullets?’’

You hummed in response, following the path to your old road friend; a very well-preserved Chevrolet classic. The previous times that Dean had encountered you, it was too dark to actually look at that masterpiece of a car, and now he simply couldn't stop admiring it. Your Baby was broken when you encountered his father, so you had to use one of Jimmy Novak's old cars as yours waited for you to have time to fix her up.

“Impala 67. My mom bought him and it just kept in family.’’ You grinned, enjoying the way he carefully caressed the hood and smiled, impressed. “’Wanna drive?’’

“I — Really?’’ You giggled at how flustered he seemed, throwing your keys at him. Dean almost didn't catch them, probably stunned by your proposal.

‘'Just don't crash Baby, Winchester. I'd kill you.’’

“I know it's not your usual five star hotel, but at least we have free ice!’’ You spread your arms in a kidding manner, soon regretting such a decision with a wince of pain. Werewolves’ nails were sharper than any of your knives. You should grab some after the monster was gone for good and turn them into a weapon.

Dean remained in silence when he arrived at the room, closing the door with you balanced carefully in his arms. It was strange for him to be that quiet around you. With your hold tightening on the improvised — a plastic bag with ice cubes — cold compress, you looked up at him. His expression twisted into a grimace as he glanced around and headed towards your current bed, laying you carefully on the mattress. You thought you had passed his spoiled surface, but maybe he was just what you saw. Irked, you didn’t miss the opportunity to bite him about it. “’What? Not enough for you and your five hundred dollars shoes?’’

His response was a straight, harsh tone that poorly camouflaged his obvious worry. “Not enough for someone injured.“

Dean’s words made your stomach spin brutally. The hint of guilt coupled with the irritated wound on your leg that made you want to puke. All he had been was nice and awkwardly friendly and helpful, yet you were mostly rude. It probably had annoyed him.

He was quiet, internally eating the blame for leaving you open during the hunt’s most delicate stage — the execution. The Winchester was furious at himself, but mostly guilty for being the one to cause you to go through this. You were hurt and were going to feel even more agony during the patch up because of him. Although he highly doubted you would accept it, the hunter couldn’t help but mourn for his own first-aid kit. With it, he could’ve at least given you a sedative. At least the hunter could try to distract you from the inevitable ache.

Fortunately, you were very talkative.

“I don't have anything against you. I seriously don't. I'm just not a fan of corporations.’’ You attempted to articulate your feelings as he placed you on the mattress. Dean didn't answer you right away, rather focusing on the poor excuse for medical supplies he had brought from your car. God, you needed to get more useful first-aid. Why was the best thing you had cartoon-related band-aids? At least you had some Scooby Doo ones. “Getting paid to save people doesn't seem fair, you know? Would you pay Superman to save your ass if you were falling from a building?’’

“Perhaps the more appropriate question would be why I was on the top of a building to begin with?’’ he finally asked, his terse silence receding in favor of his usual dorky demeanor. A chuckle blossomed from your lips despite the werewolf’s painful autograph on your leg, relief settling in for awareness of not having hurt his feelings. He grabbed some scissors, cutting your jeans until up to your knee. “I'm joking. Dad made an empire from the ground up while he raised Sam and I. He helped people. I am very proud of my old man. He needed to find a space between taking care of me and Samuel and saving others.’’

“And it isn't possible to be a hunter and something else. It's this life or another.’’ You completed in recognition. John’s work was really impressive, mainly because he was a good father above any hunting business. You chewed on your lower lip to restrain a groan when Dean started to clean the wound. “I guess I can understand it.’’

“At least we don’t fake credit cards and pretend to be the FBI.’’

“Shut up, summer clothes. You have two private planes and a pool bigger than them,” you remarked, a lighter feeling enveloping the room despite your momentary protest from the physical discomfort. Willing to tease him a bit more, you said, “Still, you are here with me.’’

He tried to brush it off with a shrug. “Dad likes to spoil us. Maybe I wanted to see what the other side could have been. You know, not being a... How did you say it? Spoiled little rich boy in an expensive cardigan.’’

You giggled at his justification, almost whispering your reply, “Or you are here because you got worried about me.’’

“That's a possibility…’’ Dean admitted before locking his green eyes with yours, rosy red cheeks not going unnoticed by you. “You should consider our proposal. No one should depend on bar games and fraudulent credit cards to eat everyday. Especially when they are trying to help people.’’

“I don't wanna be an underling, Dean. It's easy for you. You are the boss' kid. I'd just be an employee. A minion. Someone who doesn't have the last word.’’

“That's not how we function. They wouldn't take away your free will. I can assure you of that.’’ You looked away once his sincerity rattled through your head, glaring at his improvised cold compress that laid on your belly. Dean continued working on your wound, occasionally asking if it was aching until he was finished. “So, is it okay?’’

“Best stitching job I've had in awhile. Thank you.’’ You gave him a grateful beam, twinkles of shyness glimmering there that you hadn’t experienced in a very long time. You couldn't even remember the last time you’d felt anything near timid around a guy. You barely knew why you were in such a state now.

Perhaps you did. Dean cared about you when you got hurt, allowing the werewolf to storm away to cease your pain. It was more than tactical wisdom. He made you feel more as a human being than a hunting partner in the last 24 hours. When was the last time someone had treated you like that? You didn’t even notice you missed the glimmer of kindness inside the tender touch and go moments with other people around usual violence of the life you had chosen. 

Dean nodded his head in acknowledgement, examining your patchworked wound for a little longer before he got up and grabbed a lonely chair next to you. “What are you doing?’’

“Getting as comfortable as possible to sleep.’’ He scowled, squirming in his chair to find a less displeasing way to doze. “You are still hurt. What if the werewolf or something else comes here?’’ You sighed; he was right. “Now rest.’’

You pouted. “Stop giving me orders that make sense!’’

There was something pleasantly refreshing about the sounds that the both of you echoed, but in that moment, exhaustion won. At least, that rest felt complete.

Dean shifted a lot in efforts to find a more bearable position to rest, but he didn't seem to be able to stay in one place. The scratching noises from the friction of his clothes with the aimchair were starting to disturb you, and you weren't the most patient person after being attacked by a monster. 

“Dean.’’ You sat on the bed, glaring at him.

He sat straight, suddenly alarmed. “What? Did you hear something?’’

“Yes, the noise of you humping the chair.’’

“I wasn’t!’’

“Sure. Come here.’’ You patted the spot next to you, Dean’s mouth dropping half-open as his brows furrowed in confusion. You rolled your eyes. “I’ll sleep under the sheets. You sleep on top of them.’’

“That could work.’’ He thought he was nervous before, but the seven steps to reach your bed felt like a New York marathon. Laying beside you proved that whatever emotions he experienced back at the bar could increase a hundred percent.

As promised, he laid on top of the sheets while you found yourself seeking for heat under them. Your feet were chilly, and Dean sensed it even between the barrier of sheets when you casually touched his with yours. The Winchester crossed his arms, refusing to pull you closer by using the poor excuse of shared body heat.

You laid on your side, and he turned a couple times before resting on his side as well. Your eyes just relaxed into each other's gaze. It was like a secret, silent lullaby. It was vulnerability at its finest, the moment where you feel comfortable in the quietude of the city around someone. You found freckles etched across his face like stars, and Dean discovered that you blinked three times before shaking your hips a bit, as if it made you more cozy in bed. 

You could joke your way out of it. He could comment on how you two should go to his hotel because of many reasons, starting by the fact that it was a hotel, with an h. Nevertheless, you two were content despite the chaos of your own different worlds colliding by way of this tiny, sweet glimmer of happiness.

“Here.’’ Dean handed you a card, but you stood with your arms crossed despite your upbeat mood.

Shrugging, you stated, “I am still not interested in joining the corporation.’’

“I imagined that. For as much as I do not agree with your decision, that isn't a HunterCorp card.’’ Dean curved the corners of his lips into a sweet, exaggerated whisper of a smile, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Raising your eyebrow, you grabbed the piece of paper. In perfect calligraphic script, Dean’s name was scrawled next to a phone number.

“Your number.’’ You took a defiant of joy in it, shifting your glare from the card to his face. He still looked like an adorable mess. You shove the card in your pocket. “God, I can't believe I'll do it.’’ Stepping closer, you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips against his. Dean’s hands easily found their way to your waist after a few moments of surprise, bringing you to him. His stupid lips were as soft as you imagined they would be yesterday, and he kissed you like you were the most valuable thing he had ever put his hands on. “Been wanting to kiss you since yesterday.’’

Dean pecked your lips one more time, missing them as soon as he pulled away.  “I've been wanting to kiss you since we first met in Mexico. I guess I won.’’

“Cheesy.’’ You scrunched up your nose, and he chuckled. “But this!” You pointed at you and him, allowing your intrusive thought to surface. “It doesn’t change one bit of what I think about the corporation.’’

“I know.’’ Dean nodded slightly, too enchanted by your closeness. There was a childish grin lingering on his features as you talked. Jesus, the gorgeous freckles on this man made your head spin.

“Or what I think about your clothes…’’ you teased him, but the words left your mouth more tempered with affection than you would have liked.

The Winchester snorted, pursing his lips. “Yeah?’’

“Or about your stupidly cute bracelet.’’ He chortled as you lifted your arms to lace around his neck, his thumb rubbing warmly into the bare part of your waist.

“We could stay in the city for a bit longer. It’s karaoke night in the bar,’’ Dean mumbled, searching for your neck to offer a gentle peck. 

Between sighs of pleasure, you found the will to finish your sentence with an added dose of firmness: “But if you need to go and do your corporate things... Well, I'll call, Dean Winchester. For real.’’

This time, Dean was the one making the first move, leaning to capture your lips in his again. That was what a kiss should be like. Neither of you wanted it to stop. Maybe he could find another case near here. Perhaps ask Samuel to cover him on the job for a few. And if he didn't, you could always help him trick company procedure to spend a little more time with you.

Dean's sweetheart; @akshi8278 WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK FOR DM!

[440mxs-wife]

It Was Always You

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Your phone dinged in your pocket with a text message notification. Your eyes widened as you read the message from Dean. It said they were on their way home, but that Sam got hurt, and to be waiting in the infirmary. He didn't elaborate on Sam's injuries, so you made sure to have suture kits and bandages readily available.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's been about eight years since you started hunting with the Winchesters. When you met them, you and your hunting partner/boyfriend, Evan, were on a hunt for werewolves. Your intel on the number of werewolves turned out to be wrong, which caused you and Evan to quickly get overwhelmed. At one point, Evan thought that you had gotten them all but the pack leader ambushed him out of nowhere and killed him.

You scrambled to find a hiding place, but knew it was just a matter of time before you were discovered. Just as the pack leader found you, a gunshot rang out and it dropped to the ground. When you looked up, you saw two men standing before you in blood-stained clothes. One of them had spiky hair, glittering green eyes and introduced himself as Dean Winchester. The other man was taller than the first man, with kind, hazel eyes and chestnut brown hair. Sam Winchester.

You had heard of the Winchesters, but never thought you'd ever cross paths with them. They checked you for injuries and rendered first aid. They also helped you with Evan's body in giving him a hunter's funeral. With Evan gone, you had no one else, so Sam and Dean invited you to join forces with them.

Living in the bunker, you settled into a routine with the Winchesters. They did the field work, while you were in charge of the bunker. You mainly researched cases, only hunting when absolutely necessary. You kept the home fires burning and patched up injuries. You waited up for them to come back from a hunt, hoping they would both be in one piece when they got home.

As time went on, you realized that the younger of the two Winchesters had captured your heart. At first, you tried to deny what you were feeling for Sam. You buried your feelings deeper each time he smiled at you, or laughed at something you said. The sidelong glances and lingering touches between you were slowly driving you crazy.

You tried to keep it cool on the outside, but you didn't know how much longer that would last. You already knew that there was no chance that Sam was interested in you "that way". If Sam ever found out how you felt and didn't return your feelings, that could make things weird between the two of you. You just had to keep reminding yourself of these facts, which was proving to be more and more difficult each day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The bunker door flew open, and in came Dean, with Sam's arm around his shoulder. You had just come back from the infirmary to see Dean trying to maneuver Sam down the stairs. You raced up the steps to sling Sam's other arm around your shoulder to make it easier on both of them. Once in the infirmary, you and Dean managed to get Sam into a sitting position on one of the beds.

"What happened?" you asked Dean as you started to assess Sam's injuries.

"Thought it was a simple salt-and-burn, but turns out, the ghost was working with a couple of demons. We took care of the ghost, then as we turned to leave, the demons showed up. One of them flung Sam at the wall, then started beating on him. I took out the one who came after me, then got the one fighting with Sam," Dean explained.

As Dean is telling you about the hunt, you could see Sam was wincing with each breath. You tried to carefully remove Sam's shirt to check for more injuries. You finally decided that you had no choice but to tear the shirt off of him. Straight out of your fantasies, to be sure, but you harshly reminded yourself to keep your hormones in check. This was for purely medical reasons.

Once his shirt was removed, you could see multiple bruises on his torso. You figured it was probably bruised or cracked ribs, so you taped and bandaged up his side. Sam seemed to be breathing a little easier now that some of the pressure was off.

You continued your examination of Sam for other injuries. You found that he had a cut on his forehead, which likely meant a possible concussion, and he had a sprained ankle. You patched up the head wound, carefully wrapped his ankle and gave him some pain medication.

"Guess you're going to be stuck here for the next few days, Sam. At least until some of the swelling in that ankle goes down," you explained as Dean went to get an ice pack.

"No way, I'll be bored in here. I'll recuperate in my own room," Sam muttered as he attempted to get to his feet.

You forcibly put your hands on Sam's shoulders and got in his face until you were nearly nose-to-nose with him. "Sit. Down. Now, let's recap: you were recently in a fight with a demon, during which you got flung around the room and beaten. At the very least, you have bruised or cracked ribs, a possible concussion and a sprained ankle. You won't be going on any hunts for the near future, either, so I suggest you get comfy, Sam," you quietly but firmly stated.

Sam thought about fighting you about staying put, but the look on your face stopped him. Dean had also brought Sam's pajamas and a clean pair of boxers. Dean helped Sam change clothes, but not before making a lewd comment about how Sam should ask you for help. Then Sam got back in bed, into a sitting position. You placed a pillow under his sprained ankle and pulled the blanket over his bottom half. Sam caught your hand in his as you smoothed out the covers. "Hey? Thank you," he said softly.

You turned around and gave him a worn out smile. "You're welcome, Sam. But you don't have to thank me. I apologize for being so rude about getting you to stay in here, I know it's not an ideal situation. I just don't want to see you get further injured, all because you were stubborn and wouldn't allow yourself a chance to heal," you explained. Then you pulled up a chair next to the bed, and you stayed to keep Sam company.

It wasn't long before Sam's adrenaline wore off and the pain meds started to kick in. He yawned and you could see his eyelids begin to drift closed. Before you left the infirmary, you made sure he was comfortable and gave a lingering kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, Sam," you whispered as you swept his hair from his forehead.

You wandered through the library and found Dean nursing a glass of whiskey. "Everything okay, is Sam asleep?" he asked.

With a weary sigh, you dropped into a chair and confirmed that Sam was indeed asleep. "I gave him some meds for the pain, so hopefully he'll sleep through the night. He needs rest, and I'm going to make sure he gets it," you replied.

"Gotta say, sweetheart, seeing you take charge like that with Sam was kinda hot," Dean smirked.

"Oh, but Dean, you're not the Winchester who has my heart. That would be Sam," you remarked. Your eyes widened and you immediately clapped a hand over your mouth once you realized what you'd said. "I mean, uh, that, um, oh hell," you stammered, as you covered your face with your hands.

Dean chuckled and put down his drink. "Relax, it isn't like I didn't already suspect something had to be going on," he remarked. "If it makes you feel any better, I think Sam's pretty clueless about it. But you should tell him at some point," Dean advised.

"Yeah? Maybe so. Then what happens when Sam doesn't see me that way? I'll have ruined a good friendship and things around here will get weird. No thanks," you stated firmly and rose from your chair. "Goodnight, Dean," you called over your shoulder as you walked to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You checked on Sam first thing the next morning. He was looking much better than when Dean first brought him in, with a little more color in his cheeks. He seemed to be a bit restless at the moment, moving his head from side to side. From his mumbling, you could tell he was in the middle of a nightmare. You knelt on the chair next to Sam's bed and reached for the washcloth in the basin. After all of the water had been wrung out of the washcloth, you folded it and placed it on Sam's forehead.

As soon as the washcloth touched his forehead, he seemed to relax and start emerging from his nightmare. He stopped thrashing his head back and forth, and wasn't mumbling anymore. His breathing seemed to even out as you sandwiched his large hand in between your two smaller ones. Your thumb gently rubbed circles on the back of his hand while you whispered soothing words to calm him.

You watched as Sam's eyelids began to flutter and eventually fully opened. He seemed a little disoriented and immediately tried to pull his hand from your grasp, but you held fast. "Shh, shh it's okay, Sam. You're in the infirmary," you soothed.

"What happened? What am I doing here?" he asked nervously.

"You got hurt on that last hunt with Dean. You took care of the spirit, but you didn't know that it was working with a couple of demons. Dean killed one, but the other one went after you. Beat you up pretty bad, possible concussion, some rib damage and a sprained ankle," you explained.

"I remember now. I tried to go back to my room, but someone in a not-so-subtle way told me there's no way that was gonna happen," Sam gazed pointedly in your direction.

"Hey, I had to do something! You can't tell me that you would willingly follow my instructions of staying in bed with your foot propped up? Not to be lifting things to aggravate your ribs? Yeah, right," you retorted, dropping his hand. You got up from your chair and started to walk away, but Sam reached for your hand, and caught hold of it.

"Calm down," he chuckled. "I promise to stay here and behave myself. But, I'm going to need some distraction. Wanna play cards or watch a movie or something?" he asked.

Your attitude softened. "I can do that. Let me go shower and make some breakfast for all of us, then I'll be back. Deal?" you replied.

"Deal," he grinned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam watched with a smile on his face as you walked out of the infirmary. He thought back on the events of the last day or so. He remembered the worry in your eyes when he and Dean first came through the door. Then he noticed how quickly you had regained your composure to focus on the task of getting him to the infirmary.

When you tore open his shirt, Sam thought he saw a fleeting glimpse of something in your eyes. They looked full of softness, an adoration maybe? Like you appreciated what you saw, but felt guilty and decided that maybe you shouldn't have. Could she have feelings for me? he wondered. Then he searched his mind for evidence to support his observation.

He thought about how he always finds you in the kitchen just in time to greet him after his morning run. You know exactly how he likes his coffee, and how to make the perfect egg white-only omelet with all of his favorites. And just this morning when he was having a nightmare, you knew exactly how to bring him out of it.

Sam made up his mind that if you were going to confine him to the infirmary, he was going to use this time to his advantage. He decided to test his theory and try to find out how you really felt about him. Maybe he'd even discover his own feelings along the way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next week or so, you spent a lot of time in the infirmary with Sam. The two of you played gin rummy, with Sam winning most of the time. However, you got your revenge while playing Scrabble by being the all-time high scorer.

As the days progressed, Sam started to notice certain things about you. How you scrunched your lips when you were deep in thought about the next card to play. Or how your hazel eyes sparkled as you discovered the winning letter combination in Scrabble. Your thousand-watt smile and how it lit up your whole face.

One evening, you took Sam out for a drive to get some fresh air. You drove to an open field that you knew would have the best view of the setting sun. As you leaned against the car, Sam turned to you and saw the wonder in your eyes at the simplicity of nature. He noticed how your hair caught the rays from the setting sun just right to make it look like it glowed. It was at that moment he realized he was falling for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week later, Dean got a call about a case a couple of towns over. It was a simple vengeful spirit, so just the two of you went. Sam's injuries had healed pretty well, but he decided not to chance it and therefore stayed home. You promised that Castiel would be available if he needed anything, and would probably check in every now and then. Then you gave Sam a lingering kiss on the cheek and blushed a little as you shyly said goodbye.

Late that night, Sam was jolted awake by the sound of the bunker door flying open. You and Dean had succeeded in your mission and stopped at the bar on the way home. Dean's high alcohol tolerance enabled him to drive home without too much difficulty.

You, on the other hand, were a stumbling, weaving, giggling mess. Dean kept trying to shush you so as not to wake up Sam, which only made you giggle even more. He finally got you turned around in the direction of your room and guided you down the hallway.

Dean paused at your doorway and leaned you against the wall while he opened your door. "Hey, Dean?" you slurred. "You know what I wanna do right now? I wanna tell Sammy everything. You know, 'bout how I'm in love with him," you mumbled.

"Oh, really, Princess? Are you sure that's such a good idea in your current condition? 'Cause if you want, I can knock on his door right now and have him poke his head out here so you can tell him," Dean chuckled.

"NO!!" you shouted. "Don't do that. 'S probably not a good idea anyway, since he doesn't like me that way," you muttered.

Dean opened your door and pulled you towards him to guide you into your room. "How do you know that? Did you ask him? What would you do if he was standing in front of you right now?" he asked.

"Kiss him. Like this," you answered and gave Dean a kiss full on the lips. At that moment, Sam poked his head out just in time to see what looked like you kissing his brother. He dropped his gaze to the floor and quietly closed his door.

"But, that'll never happen. So I'll go in here, cuddle with my pillow and pretend that it's Sam," you replied softly, tears shimmering in your eyes.

Dean kissed you on the forehead. "Goodnight, Princess. Take a couple of Tylenol with a bottle of water before you conk out. Hey, you did good work today, you know," he remarked.

You nodded. "I know. Thanks, Dean," you mumbled, then closed your door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you didn't have nearly as bad of a hangover as you expected to have. It was enough, though, to remind you that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to drink so much. When you wandered into the kitchen, Sam was already at work, making breakfast. Something was off about him, however. He had yet to acknowledge your presence as you walked in, even with just a look.

"Good morning, Sam," you remarked. Sam said nothing, just kept preparing his breakfast. "Good morning, Sam," you said a little louder. Still no response. "Good--" he cut you off.

"Morning," he snapped then returned his focus to finishing his breakfast.

"I-is something wrong, Sam? Are you feeling pain again, maybe from your ribs or your ankle?" you asked timidly.

"No, no pain there," he answered in clipped tones.

"If-if you tell me where you're hurt, I'll see what I can do to help ease the pain," you tried.

Sam looked up with a rare flash of anger in his eyes. "Listen, I don't need your help and, more importantly, I don't want your help. Besides, I think you've done enough," he snapped. You nodded, and brushed past Dean out of the kitchen, then ran to your room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked.

"Oh, like you don't know? The next time the two of you decide to hit the bar after a hunt without me, do me a favor. Get a room somewhere, then you can take care of two birds with one stone," Sam retorted.

"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"It means, I saw you, Dean! You two weren't exactly stealthy when you got home last night. I saw you outside her room and the two of you were kissing. Don't even try to tell me 'it's not what it looks like', because I know what I saw. She wants you, not me," Sam ground out as he left the kitchen.

"Some days, it's best just to stay in bed," Dean muttered to himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next week, you and Sam did your best to avoid one another. If he was in the room first, you waited until he left before going in. When you did end up in the same room, neither one of you could look at the other, let alone say much of anything. Not unless it was absolutely necessary, like looking for a case.

Dean was stuck in the middle, forced to watch it all from the sidelines, which tore him up inside. The two people he cared about most were in pain because of a misunderstanding. He wanted to try and fix this, but he knew the two of you had to work it out on your own.

Garth called Dean with a case involving a vamp's nest that needed to be dealt with. It was fairly good-sized, so he was going to need all three of you to take it down. You didn't really want to be cooped up in the car with Sam for that long, given the tension between you. However, you were needed, so once more, you pushed your feelings down so you could focus on the job at hand.

After another successful hunt, the three of you ended up taking another trip to the bar. You decided to keep your drinking to a minimum, considering what happened last time. You, Sam and Dean settled into a booth, with the boys on one side, you by yourself on the other. Dean brought over the first round of beers, which you tried to drink slowly to pace yourself. The boys finished their beers well before you, so Sam left the table to get the next round.

"You have to talk to him sometime," Dean remarked.

"Dean, I appreciate your help, but this is one time you need to stay out. Sam's angry at me, and he must have a good reason, because he doesn't get angry often," you replied.

"Not this time he doesn't, have a good reason that is. Remember that night we finished that vengeful spirit hunt? We stopped here on the way home, and you drank too much?" Dean prompted. You nodded. "Do you remember what you said to me outside your bedroom door?" he asked.

You thought back to that conversation. "I told you that I should tell Sam how I feel, and you offered to knock on his door to get him," you responded. "Then you asked me what I would do if he was in front of me at that moment, and I....Oh Chuck," you whispered. "He saw, didn't he? He must have thought I chose you over him. That's why he snapped at me in the kitchen the next morning," you said as everything made sense.

Suddenly you had a strong urge to find Sam, to explain what happened that night. You slid out of the booth and scanned the bar area to see if Sam was still there. He was, only he wasn't alone. A gorgeous woman with long, dark hair was making serious eye and body contact with Sam. He had his arm around her and was smiling at her, then he was laughing at something she'd said. Overall, he looked extremely comfortable in her presence.

Your heart sank as you abandoned your decision to find Sam. You told Dean you were going to get some fresh air and that you'd be back. However, you had no intention of returning to the bar. Instead, you started walking back to the bunker.

About halfway home, a car pulled up next to you and the lady driver asked you if you needed a ride. You politely declined, then the stranger showed you her fangs. You turned to run back to the bar, but didn't make it. Two other vamps appeared, and when they got to you, they knocked you unconscious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Having fun tonight, Sammy?" Dean asked, with an edge to his voice.

Sam ignored the tone. "Yeah, actually. For once I'm the one picking up the chicks. See that brunette over there--" Dean cut him off.

"Cut the crap, Sam. You know who you belong with and it's not that brunette chick," Dean retorted.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, then looked all around the bar for you but didn't see you. "So, where'd she go?" he asked.

"Like you care. Right after you left the table, she went to find you to talk to you, try and clear the air between you. Then she saw you and Ms. Right Now hanging all over each other and headed outside for some fresh air," Dean grumbled.

"Shouldn't she be back by now? I've been gone from the table for about half an hour, Dean," Sam said as concern started to creep into his voice.

As Dean caught on to what Sam was saying, his phone rang, with Caller ID saying it was you. He answered it, but on the line it was your captor instead. Dean demanded that they release you and promised that if you didn't make it out alive, he would personally slice off their heads.

"You don't scare me, Winchester. But I can smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, and it's so deeply satisfying. She's a feisty one, though, won't tell us where you are no matter how much pain we've put her in. Allow me to demonstrate," the vamp cackled with glee.

She came over to the middle of the room where you were tied to a chair. "Where are the Winchesters?" she demanded. "I'm not telling you squat," you snapped as you glared at your captors. The boys heard the sound of you being slapped across the face for your outburst.

"She's so uncooperative. Guess it's time to sample the merchandise," the vamp remarked. She could see you struggling against the ropes, so she slapped your face again. She tilted your head to the side and sank her fangs into your neck, causing you to cry out in pain. The boys could tell what was happening, and it was almost more than they could bear.

"Oh, boys, she tastes just as sweet as you'd expect. You have two hours before she becomes one of ours," the vampire retorted before disconnecting the call.

After the call ended, you heard her giving instructions to the other two on what to do when Sam and Dean showed up. Then she went back over to you. "Relax, sweetie, this is almost over. I promise that after the Winchester boys are dealt with, I'll put you out of your misery as well," she cackled as she walked away.

As soon as you were sure you were alone, small sobs shook your body, tears streaming unchecked down your face. You sent up a silent message to Castiel, hoping against hope that he was listening. If he was, then he could tell the boys where to find you, and you might have a prayer of seeing Sam again. All you wanted was one last opportunity to explain and maybe find the courage to tell him how you felt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the bunker, Sam was busy on his laptop, frantically trying to locate you. He thought back on the events of the past few weeks, and how tense it's been between the two of you. Regardless of what happened before, you were still an important part of his life, and he wanted that part back.

Dean brought in the bag of weapons and dropped it with a thud onto the map table. He leaned on the table with his palms flat on the surface and glared at his younger brother. "All right, Sam. I'm sick of this. There's something you need to know about that night," Dean started.

"Not now, Dean. I'm busy trying to find her through the GPS on her phone," Sam grumbled.

"Yes, now, Sam. That night outside her door, she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you. That kiss you saw? She said--" Sam cut him off.

"Dean--" Sam started.

Dean slammed his hand on the table, causing Sam to jump in his chair. "She said that if you were standing in front of her at that very moment, she would kiss you," he finished. "It's YOU she loves, Sam. For her, it's always been you," Dean said softly.

Sam paused in his search efforts to consider what his brother was saying. Was it possible that he misinterpreted what he saw that night? If so, then all the tension and animosity was his fault, and he had to make it right with you. He only hoped time was on their side and he would have that opportunity.

A whoosh of wings was heard and Castiel appeared in the bunker, a grim look on his face. He had heard your prayer and told the boys where to find you. Cas also gave them a description of the place so they could formulate a rescue plan on their way.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The female vamp returned to the room to see if she could get any more information out of you. If not, she said she was fine with inflicting more pain on you. She didn't get the chance to start anything, though. One of her lieutenants came rushing in to tell her that Sam and Dean had been spotted. They all knew that Castiel was likely not far behind, but he hadn't been seen yet.

At the mention of his name, you felt a light touch on your shoulder. "Cas? Is that you?" you whispered. You felt a quick squeeze of your shoulder and relaxed a bit, knowing that Sam and Dean were at least aware of your location. The female vamp leaned down next to your other ear and murmured, "Not quite done with you yet, dearie. I'll be back soon."

As soon as they were out of the room, Castiel made himself visible and started to untie your ropes. "Thank you, Cas. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again," you mumbled as you drifted out of consciousness.

"Shh, just take it easy. I'll have you out of these ropes in no time," Cas replied. Off to his right, he heard heads hitting the floor and knew that there were no more threats.

Sam was the first one through the door and rushed to your side. He checked for your pulse and was relieved to find that you were only unconscious. His heart sank at the sight of the injuries inflicted on you by the vamps, and instantly blamed himself. As soon as you were free of your restraints, Sam scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the Impala.

In the backseat of the Impala, Dean helped secure you in Sam's waiting embrace. He held you to his chest and whispered soothing words in your ear as Dean raced back to the bunker. He was almost afraid to let go, as if you would disappear if he did. Sam silently promised you that once you woke up, he would tell you about his feelings for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You awoke to find that you were in a bed in the infirmary, and were no longer wearing the clothes you had on at the bar. You were now wearing your sleep shorts and a T-shirt. One of Sam's T-shirts. You looked over to your left and saw Sam's lanky frame draped uncomfortably over a chair next to your bed.

When you tried to move your left hand, you saw it was perfectly entwined with Sam's larger hand. This small movement caused Sam to jolt awake and his eyes seemed to automatically lock on yours. "Hey," Sam said with a soft smile.

"Hey, Sam," you croaked. Sam handed you a glass of water to relieve your parched throat. "How long have I been out?" you asked.

"About a day and a half. I was so worried, I thought I'd lost you," Sam replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. "Cas healed what he could with his limited grace, so you'll still have some healing to do on your own," Sam explained.

"Thank you for rescuing me, but I'll be fine now. You don't have to worry anymore, I can take care of myself from here. Don't let me keep you from your girlfriend," you remarked.

A puzzled look crossed Sam's face. "I don't have a girlfriend," he replied.

"Yes, you do. That brunette from the bar. I saw how the two of you were looking at each other that night," you answered. You pulled your hand from Sam's hold and swung your legs over the side of the bed. At the doorway, you turned to face Sam, who was still sitting beside your bed. "I hope she makes you happy, Sam," you said softly.

Sam couldn't believe what just happened. You had let him go, more concerned for his happiness than your own. What you didn't know is what made him happy was being with you. "Wait!" he called after you, running to catch up.

He found you resting against a chair in the War Room, trying to catch your breath before continuing on to your room. "Listen, I owe you an apology about that night you and Dean came home from the bar. I got angry because I had finally found someone that I want. When I saw you kiss him I thought, as usual, she chose my brother over me. That's why I snapped at you that morning," he explained.

"I know, Sam, because Dean and I talked about it at the bar. I wanted to clear the air with you, so I got up from the booth and looked for you. That's when I saw you with her, your new girlfriend," you replied.

"For the record, she's not my girlfriend," he firmly stated. Sam reached up and caressed your cheek with his knuckles. He drew you closer to him with his free hand on the back of your neck. "How could she be, when I'm in love with someone else?" he asked softly. Sam inched forward until your lips meshed together in a sweet, tender kiss.

"Oh, Sam," you whispered.

"Baby....," Sam responded as he dove in to capture your lips for another, deeper kiss. You melted into the embrace of his strong arms and surrendered to the feel of his hands roaming up and down your back. Your hands slid up his well-defined chest and continued until your fingers were threading through Sam's hair.

When the kiss was broken, you and Sam touched your foreheads together and grinned at each other. "You're the one who makes me happy. I love you," Sam remarked softly.

"I love you, Sam. It's always been you," you replied.

Sam's thumb gently caressed your face as his hand cupped your cheek. He drew you into another lingering kiss that left you breathless. He carefully scooped you up into his arms and placed you on the bed in his room. The blankets were already pulled back and he arranged them up and around you. Then he slipped into bed beside you and drew you into his embrace.

"No more cuddling with a pillow anymore, pretending that it's me. You've got the real thing now," he remarked. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Sam. Sweet dreams," you murmured.

[reyesstrand]

Tarlos 41 and 55 please... Love :3

so sorry this took me so long, i was really focused on lone star week for the last little while. thank you for the prompt! 

feel free to send me a number from this list if you’d like! also available on ao3! 

The solar storm ends up making things a living hell, for a little while. 

After the beauty of the lights strewn across the sky, an underlying sense of panic seemed to erupt all over Austin; everyone seemed to be wondering if another electrical event like that could happen again, and it takes several weeks for a sense of normalcy to enter their lives again. In that time, though, there’s an influx of calls at all hours, and TK feels bone-tired most days, dragging his feet when he’s finally off-shift and can go home to crash. 

He loves being a firefighter. Bursting his stitches so soon after getting them means he’s stuck at home longer than he would have wanted, so he’s antsy to get back into his uniform. But even he can admit that he’s been feeling drained, and he knows the rest of the team can feel it, too. He sometimes feels like that solar storm sort of helped jumpstart a new part of his life; there are still bad days, and he knows that there’s no chance of being magically cured of that. But he feels a sense of certainty, now, that he hasn’t really felt before; he’s got a proper family in the crew, and he goes with his dad to chemo appointments, which are wedged in between their shifts and his own therapy sessions. He feels good, but there’s only one issue: his relationship with Carlos. 

Not that there’s an actual issue with them — they’ve effectively started things over, secure in one another but taking things day by day. If there’s anything he’s the most certain about, it’s the promising road ahead that he sees with Carlos; he leaves TK feeling wanted and deserving of the love he showers him with, something he’s not really used to. They’re good. But the problem is that they’re both so busy with work that they’ve had to basically start their relationship over — can they even call it starting over, if they were never really officially together? — through text and phone calls and, if they’re lucky, when the 126 responds to the same calls as Carlos and his partner. It seems that the universe has thrown them the curveball of never actually having fully synched up schedules; TK has sort of begun to think that it’s a sign that they’ll never work out. 

They’d tried to plan out a good and honest and proper first date, but Carlos was suddenly slammed with a case and TK was healing and then he was back on the job, and it seems like with every passing day, their chance at actually sitting down together like normal people was becoming slimmer and slimmer. 

It’s a worry that TK voices to Carlos, when he strays away from the team who are bickering over something that has to do with lunch in the kitchen. He’s slumped down in one of the nice recliners his dad furnished the rec-room with, absently scratching behind Buttercup’s ears as he talks into his phone.

“I mean, I think the universe is telling us something,” TK half-jokes, and he hears Carlos sigh on the other line. 

“Well, maybe our luck just changed,” Carlos says, and TK perks up a little at that. 

When Carlos doesn’t immediately continue, dragging out his pause for dramatic effect, TK huffs and groans out his name, before adding: “You can’t leave me hanging like that.” 

Carlos chuckles, before he continues. 

“Thanks to Martinez, I’m now off for the rest of the night,” Carlos replies, and TK can’t help the grin that stretches out across his face, even though Carlos can’t see it. “I’ll have to stay late for her on the night of her cousin’s wedding, but it’s a good trade-off because now we can have our date.” 

“Are you asking me out, Reyes?” TK teases, even though they’ve been trying to find time for this dinner for almost three weeks. 

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Carlos throws back at him, and TK bites down on the inside of his cheek. 

"Well, I’d love to,” TK says, smiling a little as Buttercup’s head lolls toward him, tongue hanging out as he looks for more affection. “I’ll come to your place after my shift.” 

“I can’t wait,” Carlos’ voice sounds so bright and excited, that TK can’t tamper down the stupid acceleration of his heartbeat. 

He’s always so scared of running into things too fast, but he tries to tell himself that this is different. He knows it’s different, judging by the past eight months that they’ve danced around being something more. So TK lets himself feel excited. 

He lets himself admit, “me neither,” to a man he’s seriously falling for.

TK doesn’t try to hide his smile as he pockets his phone and pats his leg, whistling lowly for Buttercup to follow him as he goes off to see if his team’s actually figured out lunch yet. Glancing at his watch, 1:09 blinks back at him. He a little less than four hours left. He knows he’ll be counting down every second. 

* * * 

TK ends up running late. 

He’s cursing under his breath as they come back from a call almost half an hour after their shift ends; obviously, he’s thankful that it was nothing serious, but waiting for the all clear to be officially called so they can head out is almost painful. Marjan makes a face at him because she knows that he’s got a hot date waiting for him, and TK lovingly rolls his eyes at her. 

They get back to the firehouse and are sent off to the showers, the next crew having already started their shift, and TK doesn’t think he could move faster if he tried. He wants to make a good impression on Carlos, even if he’s seen the worst side of him — especially since he’s seen the worst side of him. And as he scrubs the scent of smoke and sweat from his skin, he figures that no matter what he does, he’ll be at least forty minutes late for their date, and he just feels defeated. 

TK shoots off a text to Carlos, apologizing and promising he’s on his way, not having time to check the reply that comes through moments later as he pulls on his jeans and a shirt he leaves unbuttoned near the collar, hopping around on one foot as he pulls on his shoes and tries to brush his teeth at the same time. 

“Christ, kid, you’ve gotta calm down,” Judd tells him, clamping a hand down on TK’s good shoulder. “You know, the guy’s heads-over-heels for you, he’s not going to blame you for being a little late.” 

“I just — I don’t wanna disappoint him,” TK says, throwing his things back into the compartment marked with his name on the shelving unit. 

“You won’t,” Judd levels with him, before he heads back toward the lockers. TK sighs, and runs a hand through slightly damp hair, and grabs his bag before shouting out a goodbye to those that are still lingering around, waving at his dad before he heads out to the Uber he’s ordered. 

He’s tapping his foot the whole ride over, he can’t help it. When Carlos’ place comes into view, his stomach clenches, and he thanks the driver and grips the bouquet of tulips he’d stopped to buy. It added five minutes to his journey, but he figures it’s worth it. As he steps up to the door, he knocks, and paces around until Carlos comes into view and he immediately feels calm wash over him. 

“Hey,” Carlos says, looking warm and welcoming and handsome, in a maroon shirt that brings out the gold in his eyes. TK’s immediately at ease in his presence, as he steps closer. 

“Hey,” TK steps into the house when Carlos makes a sweeping gesture, and he clears his throat when Carlos closes the door behind him. “These are for you.” 

“Oh,” Carlos looks pleasantly surprised by the flowers; he accepts the bouquet and smiles down at the pale pink blossoms. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

“Of course,” TK says, rubbing at the back of his neck as he steps further into the house. He spares a glance at the dining table and he sees a setup similar to the one he’d walked out on, so long ago. 

There’s a few moments where they sort of hover around one another, not sure what to say, until TK bites his bottom lip before huffing out a laugh. 

“This is awkward, isn’t it,” TK mutters, as he sits in the chair Carlos pulls out for him. He’s over in the kitchen, filling a vase with water, and looks over at him when he starts talking. 

“No, I mean, we haven’t really seen each other in a while,” Carlos shrugs a shoulder, coming over with the vase of tulips and sitting down across from TK. “I’m probably as nervous as you are, though, which I’m hoping is a good sign.” 

“It’s weird,” TK says, tapping his fingers against the table. “We know we work, and I feel like I’m hanging out with you for the first time and it’s—it’s throwing me off.” 

“I hear first dates are usually a little awkward,” Carlos studies his face carefully, before his easy smile falters a little and he leans closer, adding: “Ty, are you okay? Really.” 

“I’m just—I’m so sorry for being late,” TK says, feeling the words well up in his throat and having to be set free. “I don’t want to fuck this up because I—I really like you, Carlos. And even though I know I like you and want to do this right, I’m so fucking afraid of ruining everything again.”

“Hey, firstly, you don’t have to apologize. I know that shit happens. And secondly: please don’t be afraid. You don’t have to be with me, Ty,” Carlos whispers, reaching across the table and taking TK’s hands in his. TK stares down at their threaded fingers, which seem to fit perfectly, like everything else, before he slowly drags his eyes back up to meet Carlos’. “I know we’re still trying to get to know each other and do things properly but I really like you, too, TK. And I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Unless you don’t want me around.” 

“I don’t think that’ll ever happen,” TK admits, the corner of his mouth pulling upward in a smile. He runs his thumb along the back of Carlos’ hand. “I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere either, Carlos. I don’t want to run this time.” 

“Good,” Carlos smiles a little, “I want to keep you around.” 

“I’d like that.” TK says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders.

He takes one last deep breath, and when Carlos looks at him with so much open love and acceptance in his eyes, TK starts to truly feel himself relax.

[cyberfairyblog]

First Meeting (Jason Whittaker x OC)

Takes place during the Blackgaard Saga, not exactly canon compliant so basically it's an AU. Vanessa, a novelist & recent employee for Whit's End, meets her new coworker for the summer. Eventual OC/Jason romance.

It was a humid July morning when Vanessa arrived at Whit's End earlier than usual. Eugene, Katrina & Connie had school which meant she and Jack were the only ones available to run the cafe. That also meant no Imagination Station; she was not about to deal with being chased by Roman soldiers again.

When she walked into the dining area she saw boxes stacked all over the counter and tables. "What's all this?" She whispered. The last thing she wanted was extra work. Her dreary eyes snapped opened in alert as she heard some grunts coming from behind the counter. It belonged to a man's voice she couldn't recognize.

Thump!

"Ow!"

The novelist braced herself as the stranger got up under the counter rubbing his head and mumbling under his breath. As if he had sensed someone watching him, he turned around and found his assumption was correct.

Vanessa's breath caught in her throat.

The man had eyes that seemed to have been plucked from the ocean itself. His facial features were simultaneously chiseled and youthful - she presumed he was in his 30s or even 40s. His red t-shirt clung to his shirt - that made her swallow nervously - and mahogany bangs clung to his forehead. He combed away as he straightened up.

To put it simply: he was very handsome.

It was a sight straight out of those grotesquely enjoyable romance novels she still read. Or the boys that went to her school back in Maryland that left girls as quickly as they charmed them.

The latter concept made her more anxious.

The man was embarrassed. Oh Lord she had seen his little mishap with the table! So much for smooth sailing he thought bemused. If it hadn't been for that damn Blackgaard he would've had gotten all this done earlier!

An awkward silence passed between the two before he finally opened his mouth. "You did NOT see anything!" He exclaimed. "It was all an imagination!"

Vanessa opened then clamped her mouth trying to think of what to say. "I uh, work here," she replied ignoring his sad attempt to gaslit her. "Are you-"

"I'm fine, people always said I had a a hardhead," the man joked. "So you're one of my business partners!" He outstretched his hand to shake. "I'm Jason by the way."

"Vanessa. I'm sure Mr. Whittaker told you about us before he left.".

"Ah yeah Dad said a lot about you," replied Jason. He tapped the side of his jawline. "Hm you're not like any vampire I've seen," he added.

Her boss did more than just talk, Vanessa groused internally. No one was going to let her live that one down!

Wait a second - DAD???

This guy was her boss's son?! Now that she thought about it his (damp) hairstyle did look eerily similar to the one her boss always sported, only longer. She even saw that playful twinkle in his oceanic eyes.

Hey she was a novelist gotta throw in a descriptive word somewhere!

"You're Whit 's son?"

"Surprised? Don't be I get that one a lot" the tall man replied, scratching the back of his neck. He surveyed the room. "Man this place needs a lot of sprucing up to do! But don't worry I promise you this place is in good hands!" He began listing some things he wanted to change. Apparently he knew about the Imagination Station, which was great because she definitely didn't know how to operate it. Then he said some things that made her unsure. Adding tv sets and computer games - her boss explicitly strayed away from that stuff - and easier access to rhe Imagination Station.

"I'm telling you when I get done with the place it's going to be the outshine anything that Blackgaard makes!" He finished.

Vanessa was speechless. Not like she could barely get a word in anyways. But she didn't exactly see where his plans were going.

The new employee patted her shoulder. "Trust me on this when I say we're in good hands," he said before leaving to get more stuff. Vanessa looked at where Jason patted her and sighed deeply.

Yep. Looks like she was in for a ton of surprises in Odyssey!

Sorry if the dialogue is stilted, but for context this what I'd imagine their first interaction would be. No romance yet, though they have to overcome conflict in the future. Also Jason does not know about Vanessa being Regis's daughter. That's a juicy little subplot once their courtship arc kicks in! So yeah if you think they're going to be the best of friends at first they're not XD Also Jason looks like he does in the 90s artstyle (there was an image of him that I need to find) so not that hideous Nu!Odyssey style.

[cyclone-rachel]

Pay the Asking Price

a Supergirl fic

chapter 22

Read on AO3 here

Previous chapters

All things considered, it was a fairly ordinary night for James.

There were two guys trying to assault a woman and probably rob her, they may or may not have been armed (James intervened and took them out too quickly for him to be able to tell, and even if they had been, his armor would’ve been able to withstand almost anything they’d have), and he was able to save her.

But even though he was there to help, the woman he’d saved looked at him just as fearfully as she’d looked at the guys he was protecting her from, and ran away without giving him a chance to defend himself.

He’d told her he was there to help… but it didn’t seem like she believed him.

No, forget that. She definitely didn’t believe him, and though it wasn’t always a problem, depending on who he saved, it had pretty much been one since he became the Guardian.

“James? Police are on their way, buddy.” Winn said, through his comms.

“Are you alright?” Brainy asked. “James?”

“Let’s call it a night.” James answered, staring at the police cars that were arriving.

Then, he headed back for the van, admitting temporary defeat.

~

“Okay. I mean, I love him. I do. I... I love him. But come on. JT has got to be the only one holding up the reunion right now.” Kara said, sitting across from Lena as they had lunch just outside of Catco. She didn’t know how long it had taken for her and Lena to discover they’d shared a favorite boy band (Kara had found them while trying to catch up on Earth pop culture right after she moved in with the Danvers, and Lena had listened to them as a little rebellion since Lillian didn’t think they were sophisticated enough for her to listen to, but she found her ways nonetheless) but now it had opened discussion topics a little more, and Kara was glad for it.

(Especially since there was a whole part of her life that she couldn’t talk about with her at all)

“Oh, obviously. Here, but let me ask you this, right? Would you rather have an NSync reunion, or JT and Britney back together?” Lena asked.

“Ugh! They were my favorites! That's an impossible question to answer, and you are cruel for asking.”

“Yeah. Well, you know, sometimes my Luthor genes just shine through.”

Kara and Lena both laughed.

“Thanks for catching lunch with me.”

“Well, since I canceled on you the last three times and you said you couldn't get away, I figured you were worth the extra effort.”

“Yeah, what's keeping you so busy?”

Things I couldn’t possibly explain.

“It's top secret.”

“Intriguing.”

“As soon as I can tell anyone anything, you will get an exclusive.”

Kara didn’t want to press her for details, but one look that she thought was charming later, and she got Lena to admit something.

“…I'm working with a new partner.”

“Mmm.”

“Yeah, she's... She's fantastic. It's... It's like having a mentor; you know? You'll... You'll love her. Promise.”

That’s one way of describing her.

“You got to give me something. I have to have something to look forward to.”

“Okay. Something to look forward to. What do you know about quantum entanglement?” Lena asked, leaning forward on the table.

Kara Zor-El knows all about it. But… Kara Danvers probably shouldn’t.

“"Quantum" wh...” Kara asked, purposefully.

“Polyatomic anions? Well, when you see what we're doing with them- it will blow you away.”

“I can't wait.”

“Oh. Actually, this is... This is her.” Lena said, as her phone vibrated on the table, and she read the name Fabala on the caller ID.

“I'm gonna have to go, 'cause we're doing our first test today.”

“Oh, it was so good to see you.” Kara said, as she and Lena hugged, and Lena ignored the phone as it continued ringing. “Next time, lunch is on me.”

“Okay. Cool.” Lena said, picking up the phone as she left. “Bye!”

Kara watched her go, still wondering who exactly she was working with- and what she had planned.

But Lena was her friend, secrets or no, and whatever it was, she had promised Kara would be the first to know about it.

Certainly, it was going to be good, because Lena was.

Right?

~

“Hey, hey! Look who it is.” Winn announced cheerfully as soon as he saw James in the park in the middle of National City, holding an umbrella in one hand and a falafel in the other. “You know what? I love these falafels. Do you? Because they are, like, the best in the city. I gotta say.”

“I concur.” Brainy answered, from beside Winn. “And I have tried every one available here, but the Biyalyan falafels are indeed superior.”

“Yeah, they are the best in the city. You know that because I told you about this falafel stand.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, you did. And I'm totally stalking you because, dude, what happened? Last night you were just... You were just, like, one and done. That's not like you.”

“In all honestly, that woman was more afraid of Guardian than she was of her attackers.”

“That can't be true.”

“No, dude, you didn't see her.”

“We did. And I'm sure she was in shock.” Querl said.

“Yeah, but it's... It's bigger than that. It's... It's happening a lot. So, people see this big guy in this scary mask and they freak out, they run away. Just like Clark's friend.”

Just like me, Querl thought.

“Oh, you mean...” Winn said, miming the appearance of bat ears with one hand, the other still holding his umbrella. But Querl understood who he was referring to, and he got the feeling that James knew too. “I feel like they're more frenemies.”

“You know what I mean. It's just that Guardian is not... He's not this beacon of hope that I thought he would be. I mean, basically, all I'm doing is beating people up.”

“Whoa, dude, we are... We are doing a lot of good here. We... We're making a difference.” Winn said, attempting to lighten the situation.

“I mean, Supergirl, Superman, they're making a difference. They're changing hearts and minds. They inspire people. Guardian inspires fear.”

“Just like Winn’s father?” Querl said. “He did, as well- but Winn has done a lot of good with the skills he has. And… I admit, I had the same problem as you. Well, a slightly different one- nobody would trust the Brainiac heir with saving their lives. They always believed I had an ulterior motive, that I wanted something from them. They couldn’t let themselves think otherwise. As you would say, Winn, no good deed went unpunished.”

Winn smiled, just a little bit, and gave him an underhanded high-five, before James looked over at them both, undeterred.

“Winn hides behind a computer screen and in a van.” He said. “Nobody sees his face anyway. And you, Brainy? At least you have technology to change yours. I’m… I’m just me.”

I didn’t always.

But then came what seemed to be an earthquake, and a woman psychically throwing a man into a fruit and vegetable stand, which collapsed immediately.

“Everybody get out of here!” James yelled, as people seemed to listen to him- or they went on their own volition, out of panic. “Go, go, go, go, go! Get out of here, get out of here, go!”

Winn braced himself against a table, and Brainy joined him.

“This is Agent Schott and Agent Dox, we have a possibly hostile telekinetic in Simmons Square.” Winn said into his communicator, hoping that if Alex or J’onn weren’t listening, at least Kara was.

“Let’s go, get out of here!” Querl shouted, making sure that the remaining civilians heard him as well. There were more civilians in the paths of dangerous objects, and James did his best to make sure they didn’t get hurt, pushing one couple out of the way of a hot dog stand. The telekinetic launched a pick-up truck into the air as well, after toppling another car, but right on time, Supergirl caught the truck, to the applause of all who were watching her there.

“Hey. Where’d the alien go?” Winn asked, as James and Querl stood watching Supergirl. “She’s gone.”

“I don’t know.” James said.

~

Alien Terrorist Attack, was the headline as footage of it aired on one of the DEO’s monitors.

“Authorities are investigating a targeted alien terrorist attack that occurred earlier today. Law enforcement has no leads on the identity of the alien or motive, but tensions are on the rise as fear of another attack...” the reporter on TV read, and Alex and J’onn watched for a moment before turning away from it.

“If the news keeps stirring up fear, there's gonna be a witch hunt for whoever this alien is. Things could get out of hand very fast.”

“Okay.” Winn started, from the other side of the table. “So, we figured out what kind of alien she is- She's a Phorian.”

“A what?” Alex asked.

“I never realized any had taken refuge here on Earth. Historically, they're a peaceful race of aliens.” J’onn added.

“Today, not so peaceful.” James said.

“Thank God Supergirl was there. Hundreds could've been hurt.”

We were there too, James thought. I helped, even if I didn’t catch any flying trucks or hit anyone with heat vision.

“Normally, their telekinetic powers are benign.” J’onn continued. “I've never heard of a Phorian doing so much damage.”

“And they're also telepathic like Martians. They are connected through their thoughts.” Winn added.

“Do you think more of them will attack?”

“For now, let's just treat this as a lone-wolf situation.” J’onn answered Alex.

“So, how do we find her?”

“Supergirl and Brainiac-5 are out surveying the city to see if they can come up with anything.”

“I'd be happy to help. I can get out there and see if there's any leads.”

“Mr. Olsen, you've been very helpful. But this is a DEO matter. We'll let you know if we need Guardian's skill set, but for now...”

“I got it.” James answered, resigned, as he left.

But DEO or not, he wasn’t giving up, and he knew there was at least one person who always had his back.

~

“Today was just our first test. You can't expect it to be perfect on the first attempt.” Fabala explained to a dejected-looking Lena, as they sat down for another expensive dinner at the restaurant where they’d made their partnership official.

“I quadruple checked my calculations on this, okay? The reaction of the polyatomic anions was supposed to be strong enough to spark the core of the generator.” Lena shot back, placing the tablet she’d used to work on the project beside her on the table.

“Neither of us has gotten to where we are without persistence.” Fabala said, voice even.

“If I can't make this work, we won't be able to power the portal that we're building. This was supposed to revolutionize the way everything was transported, eliminate famine, the need for fossil fuels. I wanted to help my planet, and get you home to your time.”

“And you will.” Fabala reassured, attempting to make her voice gentle as Lena’s face displayed an unusual expression- both skeptical and sad. (Talking to her in such a manner was as if, albeit years ago in such a scenario, she was talking to her own son, before her husband got it in his head that she was the one not to be trusted in their family.

Even though she was the one true Brainiac 4, and he was the outsider, who’d only gotten the title after he married her.)

“You're making advancements in science that most people on Earth could not even dream of. No one said it would be easy.”

“What if I can't make it work? What if I can't get you home?”

“I have confidence in you, Lena.”

Now that, she knew from Lena’s face that she had never heard before. Fabala stood up from the table, then. “I am going to the test facility to check the progress of the portal.” She said, stepping around the table to lift Lena’s chin up, cradle it in her hand as Lena looked at her with a soft, unknowing smile.

“I know you don't believe it yet, but you're going to make this work.”

She left, smiling back at Lena, before any trace of warmth left her face and she focused once more on her true plan.

~

Querl knew he wasn’t supposed to be wandering the streets of National City alone.

Especially not at night- but he’d just purchased an ice cream cone, upon Kara’s recommendation, and of course he was going to make sure to eat it as soon as possible, which meant doing so without the distraction of going into another restaurant, or a shop, or a bar.

So he continued walking, making sure he didn’t get what Kara referred to as “brain freeze”- he already had to deal with one, or more accurately three, things interfering with his brain, and though this may not have been literal he did not want it inflicted upon him either- and as he passed by one restaurant in particular, he saw someone who was unmistakable to him.

Even with the image inducer she was wearing, he still noticed her features- almost regal posture, formal clothing, the way she looked at passersby with disdain. Her dark hair, and cold eyes…

And in the distraction, someone had knocked over his ice cream cone, and it currently lay on the ground.

(But that, at least, was able to be replaced, and seeing her even after she said she was going to leave… this was far more important.)

She was gone just as soon as she had appeared, though. But he wouldn’t forget her face, and so with such an image fresh in his mind, he set off for the DEO.

~

James knew he should be staying out of things.

He should give the Phorian woman’s address to the DEO, and Alex or J’onn, or a team they would send in, would find her and bring her in to make sure she was safe, that nobody else got hurt.

But as much respect as he had for them, they also didn’t handle things well all the time, especially with cases like this. So after finding her location thanks to an interrupted drug deal, he was taking matters into his own hands.

And when the door opened behind him to reveal not the woman, but someone who appeared to be her young son, he was glad there weren’t a bunch of DEO agents in the apartment with him.

The child was clearly panicking, trying to open the door as soon as he saw James.

“It’s okay.” James said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He got down to the child’s level, before taking off his helmet, and he seemed to relax.

“It’s alright, see?” he asked. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He reached out and touched James’s face, and James could only keep eye contact with him, and hold his hand.

~

It took some convincing, but James had gotten him to the DEO- where he found out the child’s name was Marcus- and now Marcus was alone with Alex, who was attempting to ask him where his mother was.

But he stayed silent, through all of her attempts, and though Alex hoped to be a mother someday, with her own kids… she sure wasn’t getting through to this one.

Or maybe it wasn’t her fault. Maybe he was just shy, or more used to communicating only through thoughts, she wasn’t sure.

Whatever the case, it was getting nowhere, and she needed a different approach.

~

“Maybe she should give him some action figures, right?” Winn said, as he, Brainy, James, and J’onn observed the interrogation from the outside. “Like… if somebody had given me action figures when they interrogated me about my dad when I was 11, I would… I would’ve sung like a canary, I’m just saying.”

“I was interrogated once.” Querl murmured. “Bribery or no, it is terrifying at any age- no matter which planet it is taking place on.”

Although Alex is certainly no Emerald Bloodeater.

“Brainy has the right idea.” James said. “This kid is completely shut down. And pulling him into an interrogation room like some criminal off the street, I don't think is the best way to get him to open up.” “So, you're not only a masked vigilante and a photographer, you're also a child psychologist now.”

“I'm just saying this kid's life has been upended badly. Okay, first, he's a refugee. Then his mom ends up missing. And if he's turned on the TV at all since yesterday, all he's seen are adults yelling about her, calling for blood. I wouldn't trust anybody either, if I was this kid.”

“James is right.” Alex said, as she exited the interrogation room. “I’ve been in there for hours, and all he does is just stare at the camera.”

Alex looked back, at the screen projecting the footage from that room, and sure enough, Marcus was staring at the camera. Almost through the camera, really- and not even at Alex herself.

“He’s looking at you.” She said, looking over at James.

James laughed, almost unable to believe it.

Even though, of course, he was very familiar with the impossible, and this was just one more thing to add to that list.

“At me? Through a wall, Alex?” he asked.

James stepped forward, with Alex behind him, and looked at the screen again.

“He’s an alien with telekinetic and telepathic powers.” She said. “You said that he connected with you.” “He thought the Guardian was a monster, and then I took my helmet off, and I guess he saw someone who looked like him.” James explained.

“He identified with you, James.”

And you remind me of my sister right now. James thought, as Alex addressed him directly.

“Are you saying you want Mr. Olsen to question the boy?” Querl asked.

“Well, Marcus doesn't trust me. Okay? But he could trust James. I mean, out of here. In a more conducive environment. We have to find his mother before she attacks again.” Alex insisted.

“If I can help this kid, I'd like to.”

“All right. Take the day, see if you can find out where the boy's mother is. We'll check in with you later.” J’onn said, and soon it was just Alex and James there, with Marcus still sitting in the interrogation room, all alone.

Or not alone, judging by the way Marcus was still looking at him, like he could read his thoughts through a wall, through the computer screen.

“Hey... You'll be good with him.” Alex said.

Yeah. Or at least I’ll try.

~

Winn was whistling, when Brainy caught up with him.

“Hello, Winslow.” He said, walking towards him as Winn sat down in his chair.

“Dude, it’s still just Winn. We’re friends now, you’re allowed to use my nickname.”

“Right. Given the argument Kara and I got into once she found out the truth regarding my purpose here… but you are not a part of that, and have nothing against me for it.” Querl realized.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Besides, your mom’s gone, isn’t she?”

“That is what I wanted to know. Can you scan the Earth’s orbit for her cruiser? Or is that technology too advanced for the twenty-first century?”

Winn sighed.

“No, no, here at the DEO we scan for many things.” He said. “And as for your parents’ ship, I certainly could, but I already did that when they led us back to Earth. I tracked their progress as they went out of Earth's atmosphere and flew away to Colu, and the future. Bye-bye.”

Winn mock-waved, when he said that, and Querl grew more concerned.

“Could you… do it again, just to be sure?”

“Alright, if you insist.” Winn said, pulling up the current image on the screen. “See? Look. It’s a bunch of satellites. The skies are clear.”

“Yes, that is… what I thought.” Querl answered, even if he wasn’t reassured at all. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Winn said, smiling at his friend. “So, hey, why did you ask?”

But Brainy was already gone.

Maybe I should work on our scanning tech. If the possibility of her being here makes him afraid…

But she’s not here.

Isn’t she?

~

Lena touched a button on her tablet, as the construction above her whirred to life.

And, just as quickly, there were a series of small explosions, sending showers of sparks into the air and shutting it down just as quickly.

Lena threw her tablet on her desk in frustration, as Fabala came up to her.

“Still isn't working?” she asked, almost like she never expected it to.

“Was it me throwing it down in disgust or the sparks that gave it away?” Lena asked, unable to take her eyes off it, imagining how she could fix it, and make it work better.

“Can you give us a minute?” Fabala asked to the humans working on the project, and they did, allowing her more concentration on the matter at hand as she turned back to her new work partner.

“Failure is a part of the process, Lena. I told you this was going to take time.” She said when she did, again trying to keep her voice gentle, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder.

“It's not about time. I'm just not getting it.” Lena answered, clearly unreceptive to any encouragement. “You know, maybe we should pay a visit to Stryker Island. Get Lex Luthor to come in and save the day.” “You think he could get this working?” Fabala asked.

“Lex was the genius who was supposed to save the world. You know, I... I just thought if I could make this work, I would prove to the world and to my mother that I was as good as the golden boy. I think most of all, I just wanted to prove it to myself.”

“You don't have to prove anything.” Fabala insisted- though part of her only wanted Lex to stay away from the project because he knew her family, knew who she really was, just as Lena did. That would certainly lead to a failure. “You're smarter than Lex.”

But nothing compared to me.

Lena only laughed, as Fabala gazed up at the project, before looking back at Lena.

“No. I'm not saying that to make you feel better. I'm saying it as a scientist. As someone who knows. But you need to stop trying to think like your brother. From what you've told me about Lex, he's a man who's concerned with power. And that's how you've been trying to fix this. Give it more power, you think it will work.”

“Yeah, but it just keeps blowing.” Lena said.

Fabala placed a hand on her shoulder again.

“But you're not a person who's consumed with power. Are you?”

Lena didn’t answer, only giving her a tight smile.

“So, if you weren't trying to do what Lex would do, what would you do?”

Lena felt herself being tested- knew those kinds of questions, was very used to answering them- but from someone who was even smarter than Lex, the pressure was even more intense. Still, she found an answer.

“I'd try to find a way to increase the anion input without overloading the energy output. All while maintaining the element synthesis rate at a constant.”

Fabala’s expression lit up, and Lena knew she’d gotten it right.

“Not power. Balance.”

Lena smiled back, and got to work, as Fabala was left looking up at the project again.

Soon.

~

Bringing Marcus to Catco, James reflected after remembering just how many monitors displaying the news there were in his office, might not have been the best idea.

It had started out well, with him introducing Marcus to Kara (Marcus was still quiet, though now he expected it) and Eve Tessmacher even believed Marcus was his nephew, bringing both of them some food from Noonan’s.

James especially liked getting to show Marcus the game he had on his desk, and the old camera he had. Marcus seemed to like the camera as well, taking a picture of James with it.

And just when Marcus finally spoke, telling James that his own father was a soldier, and had died when he and his mother were escaping their planet… James thought Marcus was going to be okay, and that nothing could go wrong.

~

Meanwhile, Querl arrived back at Catco, dropping a large bag of Chinese food off for Kara.

It was plenty sweet, and there was no way Kara was turning this down. But he seemed worried, and unsure of himself, and Kara was definitely concerned.

“I, ah… I thought I saw my mother last night.” He admitted.

Oh. That’s it.

“I didn't. Don't worry. Winn and I checked, and my parents' ship definitely had left for Colu and the thirty-first century a few weeks ago. But thinking I saw her, it... I thought it would make me feel anger. But I felt… conflicted. I just... I hate... I hate that I still care about her, even if she wants me dead.”

“Hey, we can't will ourselves to not feel anything. Life doesn't work like that.” Kara answered gently.

Certainly didn’t work on Krypton.

“On Colu, that's exactly what we would do. We…” A hand automatically went up to his forehead, the personality inhibitors located there. Still affecting him, reminding him every day that he wasn’t the man he was meant to be, and had almost never been. But she didn’t know about that yet, and perhaps he would never tell her. “We trained ourselves to suppress our emotions- illogical ones, especially- so we literally didn't feel anything.”

Kara placed her hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it when she saw the distress on his face, even if she didn’t quite know the source.

“You're allowed to miss her. She is your mother.”

“Well, she's gone forever. So...”

She may not be. But, for now, I choose to hope- however much said hope may be unfounded.

~

Fabala watched Lena once more as she worked.

“If my mother had given me pep talks like you, imagine the things I could've done.” Lena said once she paused, noticing her there.

“I'm happy to have mused you. But trust me, it isn't always easy being the parent we aspire to be.” Fabala answered.

Especially if you had a husband like mine.

“Shall we test it again?”

“Let me just plug in the algorithm and fire it up.” Lena said, excited. She went off to do just that, and Fabala waited, pressing the button that let her see outside- to the portal structure Lena and her team had built.

~

James was teaching Marcus how to use another one of his old cameras, when it happened.

Marcus was going to take a picture of James… but in his peripheral vision, he saw the news reports of his mother. The ones that referred to her as a terrorist, and said that the hunt for her was continuing.

He put the camera down, and James turned the TV off, hoping that that would be the end of it- at least, until another news station, on another Catco monitor, displayed her story again.

But he was still able to turn all of the TVs off, and if it made Marcus more comfortable, he would.

Until then, though, Eve had arrived with the food he’d asked for, and maybe now both of them could enjoy it in peace.

~

“Here goes nothing.” Lena said, as she started the next- and hopefully explosion-free- test, increasing the power as the machine whirred to life again and the portal started up outside.

~

The milkshakes exploded onto Eve’s clothes, and she shrieked as she dropped the bag. James didn’t know why at first, and then as pieces of paper began hovering in the air, flying around the room. The curtains had begun to move too, and all the TVs were showing static, as when James looked over at him, Marcus’s eyes were glowing purple.

“What is your nephew doing?” Eve asked, clearly panicked.

He began to walk towards them, as James tried to calm him down.

But it wasn’t working, and behind Marcus, a light fixture fell from Cat’s office ceiling and landed on her coffee table.

Eve dove under a desk, and though James tried to get to Marcus, he was thrown back.

~

“Power’s running smoothly to the core.” Lena said, elated. “And the anions are reacting at a steady rate!”

~

Marcus had begun to hover in the air, as Kara and Querl ran in.

“You know anything about Phorians?” Kara asked him.

“I do- but there are civilians here, and I must remain in my Quentin Richards persona. I will try to help here- you should go.”

Kara nodded, and was off, while he attempted to get people out, and keep the damage to a minimum.

Even as that floor of the building looked like it could collapse.

Querl got James out of the range of falling debris, and Kara came in as Supergirl, carrying Marcus out of Catco.

~

“It’s working.” Fabala said, awed by it in spite of herself.

Lena powered the portal down.

“We did it.” She said, confidence restored.

“You did it.” Fabala corrected, as they smiled at one another.

~

Marcus had seemed to calm down, and once his eyes weren’t glowing, Kara knew things were going to be better.

“Hey. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Kara said to him, holding onto him tightly. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

He seemed to believe her, and she flew him to the DEO.

~

It was clear, watching Marcus sit dejected in one of the DEO’s cells, that something was wrong- and Kara knew it.

Both Marcus and his mother seemed to be victims- but of what, they didn’t know yet. And even though Marcus was safe, his mother was still out in the city, and whatever was happening to both of them could very well happen again, and put them and everyone else at risk.

Until then though, they could only wait, and Marcus had to remain in the cell as the others looked for his mother.

And though James had believed he could help… Marcus still wasn’t speaking to him much, and he felt purposeless, unable to do anything at all.

J’onn caught him by surprise though, when James was trying to leave- telling him the story of how he too had felt directionless, until he had his first daughter and decided to make a difference as the Martian Manhunter.

Going by that timeline, it certainly wasn’t too late for James to figure his hero self out- and it seemed that whatever his own purpose was, helping Marcus had something to do with it.

He only hoped that he could realize it, before Marcus’s mother ran out of time.

~

“We've been searching the city for signs of another attack, nothing yet.” Kara said, as she and Querl arrived in the DEO’s command center.

“Have you two found anything?” J’onn asked.

“We looked into the Phorian's physiology. Turns out that a major shift in atmospheric energy can cause a change in their mental state.” Alex said.

“Yes. But on Earth, what causes a shift like that?” Querl asked her.

“Okay.” Winn said, pulling up charts on the screen. “So, this measures electromagnetic activity around the city.”

“There was a large spike around the time of the first fight on the street yesterday.” Alex added.

“And let me guess, another spike during the attack on CatCo today?”

“Hey, good guess.” Winn said to Kara, as she leaned over the table in the middle of the room. “But that spike was about five times the size.”

“Have we determined what caused the spike?”

“Yes. High levels of polyatomic anions released in the atmosphere.” Winn said- and as soon as he mentioned it, Kara froze up, staring at the rest of the group.

“Wait. I... I saw Lena. She said she's working on a new project. She mentioned those anions.”

“That can't be a coincidence, can it?” Querl asked her.

“Definitely not. I'm gonna call Lena.” She said, and started to type in Lena’s number.

But it wasn’t Lena who answered the phone.

“Hello, Supergirl.”

“Fabala?”

Kara sounded alarmed as she said her name, making Alex and Querl wary too.

“You sound surprised.” Fabala answered. And she was- even if Querl was worried about her return, she’d told him everything was fine. He’d assured himself everything was fine… but it wasn’t.

“Trace the call.” Alex said, and Winn and Querl were on it.

“If you've done anything to Lena...” she started, focusing on the conversation at hand again.

“You'll what, lecture me?”

“We will find you.” Kara corrected, voice tight with emotions ready to burst from her.

“You have no idea where I am or what I'm doing. How does it feel… to be powerless?”

The gloating is definitely worse.

“If this is about Querl, you have to come to terms with the fact that he chose to stay here.”

“No, he made a choice to come home, to be a hero to his people. And we would have been happy to go, but you were too selfish to allow that.”

“What's she saying?” Querl asked, and Kara turned the speakerphone on, so he could hear his mother’s voice.

“Everything I do, I do for my people. Everything you do for yours is to bolster your broken ego. You need this planet to worship you, the last daughter of a failed world, because otherwise, your survival means nothing. Just like the Kryptonians who came before you, who forced my people to bend the knee to yours.”

“You're delusional.” Kara said, trying to ignore what she’d said about her people.

(Even if, as she’d discovered this year, there were some things that Fabala might have been right about)

Fabala laughed softly.

“No. On the contrary, I see everything clearly. I came here in peace, which you refused. And all of the ugliness that's transpired is because of your righteousness, Kara Zor-El. Everything that happens from now on is your doing. Every city that burns, every nation that falls, for every child of Earth that cries out, "Why is this happening?" The answer is Supergirl.”

“Kara has done nothing. This is… this is your doing.” Querl said, as Kara handed him the phone.

“Oh, of course you're there with her.” Fabala said, sounding exasperated when she heard her son. “The Kryptonian girl who bewitched you.”

“Mother, you're... Your quarrel is with me, is it not? Don't... Don't take it out on this planet. You are better than this. Or at least you were.”

“Anger has nothing to do with what I'm doing.”

“Then why? Why are you still here?”

Fabala’s answer was concise, and afterwards, she hung up.

“I'm here to wake you up, Brainiac 5.”

“Did you manage to trace the call?” J’onn asked, once it was done.

“No. There was too much electromagnetic interference.” Winn admitted, sighing.

~

“Was that my phone?” Lena asked, as Fabala deleted Kara Danvers’s number from her contact information, clearly having missed the conversation she’d had.

“Yes… it was just a telemarketer.” Fabala answered before handing the phone back. “No one to worry about.”

Lena looked relieved, and she continued to work, none the wiser.

~

“Okay, we're now monitoring all electromagnetic activity within the region.” Alex said, from her desk. “If anyone powers up this device, we're gonna know exactly where they are.”

“Good. Then we can strike.” J’onn answered.

“Marcus knows where his mom is, but he's gotta take us to her.”  James explained, after having left Marcus’s cell.

“I'm afraid I can't let him out of here. Brainiac 5's mother created some sort of device with Lena Luthor, and she could set it off at any moment. It's just not safe for Marcus outside of containment.”

“But his mom is still out there.” James argued.

Winn, thankfully, volunteered to go with him, even contributing a mobile version of the telekinetic dampener.

J’onn thought it was too risky- but this was James’s mission, and J’onn knew that he had to let him and Winn go.

“Be safe, James.”

“Thank you.”

~

It was worth it to see Marcus and his mother reuniting, and although there were a lot more Phorians than expected, James hoped that he and Winn could keep them all safe from what was happening outside.

~

“Tomorrow we could begin the material trials.” Lena said, but Fabala didn’t seem terribly excited about it, only looking at the machine again with a calm, cold expression.

“I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that success means that you're leaving. Working with you has meant so much to me.”

“…Me too. Whatever happens next, I want you to remember never to doubt yourself again. You are a marvel, Lena. Any mother should be proud to call you daughter.”

Certainly more than I can say about my son.

“Wait, wait… what are you doing?” Lena asked, as Fabala began to activate the portal again.

~

“We got something! A huge release of anions.”

“Where?”

“San Isidro Valley.” Alex said.

“You got a satellite image for that?”

She did, and Querl pulled it up on the screen.

“What is that?”

But it was clear that none of them knew- whatever it was, though, they were going to find out soon.

“Let's go.” Kara said, turning to J’onn.

“Right on.” He answered.

“My mother...” Querl said, watching the screen.

“I know this is going to be hard. You don't have to do this.” Kara told him.

“No, I have to. I just... I need to grab something first.” Querl answered, and Kara let him go.

~

Meanwhile, Winn tried to activate the dampener- but it wasn’t meant for twelve people, so they were going to have to find another way.

And, it seemed, James was going to try something. How well it would work, he wasn’t sure, but… Alex and J’onn both said he and Marcus had a connection.

He might as well try and use it, and hope everything worked out.

~

Fabala stood before the machine, Lena’s tablet in her hands, while Lena looked at the computers before her, exasperated.

“Why won’t it shut down?” She stared over the screens, at Fabala, while Fabala barely turned to acknowledge her presence. “What did you do?”

“What I had to do.” She said. “For my people. I want you to know, the affection I had for you… could never have been real.”

J’onn, Querl, and Kara landed then, crashing down inside the building.

“Turn it off.” Kara demanded.

“I can’t.” Lena said, looking at her helplessly. She knew how bad this looked- just months ago she’d been framed for helping a criminal, and imprisoned because everyone thought she was just like her family. But she’d never wanted things to go this far, and she hoped Kara would see that.

Querl looked first at the energy generator, then at the portal outside, realizing what his mother may have been planning- and then at Kara, who tried taking the generator down by force.

“Why won’t it turn off?” J’onn asked.

“I don’t know; she must’ve made it self-sustaining somehow.” Lena said.

“What did you do, Mother?”

“You’re a twelfth-level intellect, just like me.” Fabala answered. “You figure it out.”

~

James wasn’t going to break his promise. No matter the circumstances- the building threatening to come down, the telepathic energy overwhelming the dampener- he was going to keep Marcus and his mother safe.

And he made sure Marcus knew that.

~

“You’re bringing something here.” Querl said.

“What?”

“You’ll see.” Fabala answered.

Kara flew towards Fabala, trying to pin her to a wall- but she managed to kick Querl out of the way, and turn herself and Kara around, sending Kara into a column and knocking a shelf onto Lena.

It didn’t look like it had hit her directly, but she was out cold- Kara didn’t have time to worry about her, though, as she dodged the fist that Fabala had sent into that same column.

Kara managed to get a good hit in on Fabala, and she was out for the moment- giving Kara time to get outside, and meet whoever or whatever was coming out of the portal.

~

It didn’t seem like it was working. Marcus was still unresponsive, and wasn’t letting him in.

James knew he should give up- that was the logical response. But he wasn’t going to, not this time.

He wasn’t giving up on Marcus.

~

Kara flew in front of the portal, its purple glow illuminating her as she attempted to shoot heat vision at it.

She knew, probably, that it wouldn’t do anything- the portal was so big, it would take multiple versions of herself, all firing at the same time, to take it down. But she wanted to try, to slow it down somehow, and it was the only option she could see at the time.

The energy backfired on her, and sent her crashing to the ground, with no other backup plan.

~

“You don’t mess with my family.” J’onn said, seeing what Fabala’s portal had done to Kara. He tried to run at Fabala, but she had some kind of device in her hand- and when she pressed it, J’onn stopped moving, his eyes glowing a dull red.

“What is that?”

“A White Martian gave me this.” Fabala answered her son.

“What are you doing?”

J’onn shapeshifted back into his true form, and though he fell to his knees, it was clear he wasn’t in control of any kind of action at the moment.

“The White Martians developed this technology in order to keep the Greens under their control. It traps a Martian in his own mind. A never-ending nightmare. Pretty savvy if you ask me.” She continued.

J’onn fell over completely, and Querl rushed to his side.

“J’onn…” he said, looking over him- hoping that he could help him, in some way.

“You’ve learned a lot of things about this world, Mother.” He continued, getting up to face her.

“I’ve had to.”

“And did you learn humans have a weapon we’re vulnerable to?” he said, aiming his taser at her.

Fabala only laughed.

“My darling boy. You would not kill me with that pathetic thing.”

“I am considering it.” Querl answered, hand steady on the taser.

~

“You just have to look inside of yourself and see the strength and the courage that I see in you. You're not alone. You are not alone!”

Marcus’s eyes stopped glowing, and he collapsed into James’s arms- and James hugged him back, so relieved he thought he might start crying.

Around him, the other Phorians also regained control, and Marcus hugged his mother.

“That is a hero… without a suit.” Winn said. “And I love him.”

James only smiled at him, relieved- knowing that he’d done his job, and things would be okay.

~

“Put the taser down, Querl.” Fabala said. “You do not want to hurt me.”

“You really believe that?”

“The Kryptonian girl was right.” She continued. “I know all about your little Legion, and your precious moral code. You’re all gooey hero on the inside, a hero of Earth- or at least, that’s who you pretend to be. Would a hero kill his own mother?”

Querl didn’t answer, and she went on.

“When you were a boy and I would put you to sleep at night, you used to say to me that you would always love me. And even though you've turned your back on me, I know you love me.”

That was before I found out that you bottled worlds.

“Where's Father?” Querl asked, quietly. He repeated the question, when Fabala stayed silent.

“Where is my father?”

Fabala sounded emotional, when she spoke- and he almost thought she wasn’t lying.

“Your father was so hurt when you abandoned us that he took his own life.”

“No…”

“Querl, you are not going to kill me.” Fabala continued, putting her hands on the taser. “Whatever you think of me, I'm still your mother.”

He knew he shouldn’t listen to her. He knew, if she died at his hand, people would likely praise him for doing so- calling him a hero, for extinguishing her life.

But others could still call him just as much of a Brainiac, whether he killed her or not, and though he had said before that killing her was a solution he could choose… he still put the taser down, and she reached for him, nearly embracing him.

(though there was no love in that gesture)

Fabala turned away from him, and towards the portal.

“Since you were dishonest in revealing your motive for coming here, I figured that I could, too- but now I suppose I can tell you that Brainiac is still dead. The AI plague does not exist. But even so, I wanted to see how long it would take for you to realize that, and reveal that you wouldn’t truly help your own family or your world, if we were at risk of extinction.”

“I suspected all along.” Querl said.

“I see. Perhaps the inhibitors have not affected you as much as I thought.” She answered. “The fact remains that, as the smartest beings on our world, we ought to be ruling it- and, if I could not amass an army by their own choice, I might as well take it from them, and take control anyway. Thousands of Coluans, linked through our collective consciousness… with some help, of course. Astra In-Ze may have been Kryptonian, and may have been a part of the reason why one of our relatives was sent to Fort Rozz, but I admit she had the right idea, in one case.”

“You are using Myriad.”

“I am.” She admitted, as the Coluan cruisers began to fly through the portal. “We have hundreds of ships- they just needed a way to get here.”

~

Kara got up, looking at the ships overhead.

There were so many of them, it was hard to keep track of exact numbers- and most of them seemed to be relatively small.

But there was no mistaking the last one for being small. In fact, it was almost the size of the portal itself, and resembled a skull, with a huge, gaping mouth.

~

“Agent Danvers...” Demos said, as his computer began beeping, the radar scan map he’d pulled up suddenly showing activity.

“Yeah.”

“We have multiple bogies heading into National City.”

“How many?” Alex asked, standing closer to the computer so she could get a better look.

“Twenty-five, No... fifty, a hundred… Maybe more. What’s happening?”

But Alex had no answer for him.

~

“Welcome…” Fabala said, watching the ships arrive, as Querl felt even more helpless than he had before in this century. “To the future Bottled National City.”

[lyricfulloflight]

Rumour Has It: Part 3

The next instalment starts below!

“Erik has just arrived to the US as a foreign exchange student for the year. It takes him less than two weeks to learn through the rumour mill that Charles Xavier is the biggest slut on campus. Thankfully, he has never had any trouble ignoring rumours. Until he and Charles are paired up for a group project that is, and Erik finds himself suddenly in Charles social sphere. Is Charles who everyone says he is? Or is he something... more?“

You can read parts 1&2 on ao3:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021653/chapters/49998035

Or here on tumblr:

1: https://lyricfulloflight.tumblr.com/post/188224206227/rumour-has-it

2: https://lyricfulloflight.tumblr.com/post/188245519382/rumour-has-it-part-2

Hope you enjoy :)

Rumour Has It: Part 3

Sean was waiting inside the front door to pounce on him as soon as he got through the door.

“Spill Lehnsherr!” Sean yelled excitedly. “What was he like?  Did you… you know” Sean raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Erik grumbled.

“I’m talking about you and Xavier, man!  The whole campus is talking about how you two were partnered up for a project.   Let me tell you, some people are pretty jealous – they wish they had a partner who gives out blow jobs like candy on Halloween.”  Sean smirked.

“For fucks sake.” Erik muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Does everyone know about this already?”

“Yeah, man. Everybody knows.”  Sean nodded vigorously. “So… spill man! What was it like sexing it up with Xavier?  I hear you got him all alone in the library?”

“We were working on our project.”  Erik almost yelled, arms waving. “I did not sex him up.  He did not sex me up.  There was no sex of any kind!”

“Sure, man, sure.” Sean agreed, still smiling.

“Listen here you little shit,”  Erik reached out, grabbing at Sean’s shirt in a flash of movement and puling him forward, “we did not have sex.  I don’t care what people say about Xavier, alright?  He was perfectly normal.  All we did was work on our class assignment.  And if I hear you or anyone else say otherwise, I will punch you so hard in the face you’ll need dental surgery.  Are we clear?”

“Yeah, yeah! We’re clear!”  Sean scrambled, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “He’s normal.  You’re batshit crazy.  We’re all good.”

“You will not say anything.”  Erik repeated.

“I won’t say anything.”  Sean put a hand on his chest. “Promise.”

Erik let go of Sean’s shirt and took a step back. “Good.  That’s good.”

“You need to learn how to relax dude.”  Sean instructed, wiping a hand down his shirt.

“You shouldn’t go around repeating every piece of gossip you hear.”  Erik admonished. “At least half of it is complete bullshit.”

“Sure, man. That’s… probably true.”  Sean admitted.

“I gotta go study.”  Erik turned and climbed the stairs two at a time.

“Hey!”  Sean called after him. “You can at least tell me if he’s pretty, right Lehnsherr?”

“Fuck off.” Erik yelled, not bothering to look back.

“Ha!”  Sean shouted at Erik’s retreating form. “He must be fucking gorgeous!”

Erik pursed his lips and didn’t answer, other than to slam his door shut as loudly as possible.

*****

“You cannot possibly be arguing in favour of the Dangerous Mutant Act!  It is clearly discriminatory – actually its more than that, it was racist!  And it lead to some mutants receiving little to no education at all!”  Erik raged as he paced across the kitchen of Charles’ apartment.

“Of course I’m not in favour of the Act.”  Charles replied as calm as ever. “But the assignment asks us to consider both sides of the equation and clearly the Act had enough support to get through the Senate, so it had support.  Not my personal support, Erik, but support of the wider population.”

“How can you speaks so calmly about legislation that oppressed mutants?  That hurt our people for years?”  Erik asked pointedly.

“This particular piece of legislation was overturned very quickly – thankfully.  Due to excellent lobbying on the part of Mutant Equality groups.” Charles argued back.  “I suppose I simply prefer to focus on their efforts, as opposed to the underlying fear of the unknown that has lead to the creation of so many of these restrictive policies.” Charles sighed. “You’re right, my friend.  The Act was horrible. It was unjust.  It lead to a ten percent decrease in mutant enrollment in schools – regardless of the level of education being provided. There is very little in the way of positives to be found.”

“But you’re trying.”  Erik sat back down and gave Charles a tentative smile.

“I am.”  Charles nodded. “For the sake of our grade of course.”

“Of course.” Erik grinned.

Erik looked back down at his notes, only to be interrupted by a loud banging at the door.

“Apologies,” Charles murmured as he got up out of his seat, “I’d best see who’s at the door.”

Erik tried not to listen (it was impossible the man at the door was practically shouting), he tried not the look (also impossible since Charles walked right into the kitchen), but Charles hauling what appeared to be a very drunk man, built like an American football player, was hard to miss.

“I thought we talked about this.”  Charles was saying. “No more alcohol.”

“It was the party… the last party.  Had to man.  Had to.  Those guys think I’m a pussy if I don’t...hick...don’t drink.”  The man explained disjointedly.

“The perils of peer pressure.”  

Charles flashed Erik a quick apologetic smile and mouthed ‘Sorry’ as he left the room, his bulky guest in tow.

“Yeah man.”  The drunken idiot affirmed loudly. “I need you Charles.  You always make me feel so much better.”

Erik had never been so relieved to here a door slam shut in his life. Unfortunately he could still hear some things. Like groans and a loud exclamation of ‘god you’re good’ and what sounded suspiciously like the creaking of a bed frame.

Erik found himself leaning over his arms on the table, eyes closed, cataloguing every piece of metal cutlery in Charles’ kitchen drawers using his powers.  It was distracting and calming and helped Erik definitely not think about what Charles and his unexpected guest were doing in his room.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long he waited.  Long enough to move on from cataloguing cutlery, to counting pots and pans, but eventually Charles and his guest emerged from the bedroom and walked back through the kitchen. Charles’ guest seemed much improved – walking on his own two feet, not a stagger to be seen.  Charles looked a bit pale, but otherwise no different than he had earlier.  His button down shirt was still buttoned all the way up and covered by an also fully buttoned cardigan, all tucked into neatly pressed slacks.  Erik had taken one look at him this morning and thought he would have been an excellent substitute for Mr. Rogers.

Erik knew he shouldn’t be rude and stare, but he couldn’t help but watch as Charles lead the man back to the front door.

“Hey, thanks Chuck.”  The man said, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “You really are the best.”

“Remember what we spoke about.  You have the ability to resist temptation my friend.” Charles responded.

“Yeah, yeah sure.” The man shook his head and stepped back. “See you ‘round Chuck.”

Charles closed the door, made his way back to the table and sat down across from Erik.

Erik was grateful that Charles started talking about the assignment right away. He let Charles direct the conversation for the next hour and thanks to Charles’ focus and drive they made excellent progress.  Erik was packing up his things to leave, finally feeling like he might be able to erase the whole ‘Charles having sex with some random football player’ incident from his mind forever, when Charles spoke up.

“I want to apologize for earlier.”  Charles said sincerely.

Erik stood still and silent, unable to find words to say in response.

“It was unaccountably rude of me to have such an interruption to our work and I want to assure you it won’t happen again.”  Charles declared. “My mutation… my mutation allows me to… help people and sometimes, some people take advantage of that more often then they should.”

“You could just say no.”  Erik managed to get out through clenched teeth.

The mere thought that Charles felt he had to sleep with people because he somehow ‘helping’ them was infuriating. And what kind of mutation did he have anyway?

“You’re right of course.”  Charles nodded. “And I do.  I will.  I will make it clear that my services are not available at all during our study times.  I promise my friend.”

Charles was smiling, but Erin couldn’t bring himself to return it.  His stomach was churning in discomfort and he felt, unaccountably like he might throw up.

He managed to make his way through a normal set of goodbyes with Charles. He was almost sure he was acting like a normal person through it all - Charles certainly didn’t say otherwise.

However, as soon as he was out the door and walking back to his house, his mind focused in on the problem at hand.  In was unacceptable that someone like Charles, someone so intelligent, so idealistic, so kind, should be taken advantage of by people who seemed to think they could drop by his apartment for sexual favours whenever they wanted.  Erik wasn’t a hundred percent sure what was going with Charles and his sexual escapades, but he was now bound and determined to find out.

Operation ‘Protect Charles Xavier from himself’ had officially begun.

[doedreamss]

Some Real Cowboy Shit

You can all thank @vonschweetz​ for this one because after the bte episode she suggested adam getting a reply back from the swingers e-mail sounded like the perfect set-up for a naughty fic and I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.  Happily, of course.

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Fawna Rose (FOC)

Summary: Directly following the events in episode 181 of Being the Elite; Adam responds to a reply he gets from that accidental e-mail he sent when he meant to ask Private Party to do a bit on BTE with him, drunk off the booze he snatched from them and desperate to get back on his cowboy shit.

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Alcohol use, mentions of cuckolding/swinging, gratuitous smut, little bit of edging/orgasm denial, unprotected sex

Length: 6,762 words

Available below the cut 

“He’s gonna have a lit night tonight.”

The words followed his back and Adam didn’t pause to consider or rethink his actions.  He grimaced against the burn in his throat and blinked, reaching to press his thumb and forefinger over his low brows. That definitely wasn’t water. He opened his eyes and the long cement brick hallways veered in an odd direction in front of him, throwing him slightly off balance.  One large hand jerked outward, fingers spread, and his palm caught his body weight on a rolling case with wheels which were thankfully locked.  The case caught the bulk of his weight and kept him standing upright.

“Heh,” a breathless chuckle, amused at how just two glasses had already made him sway.  His eyes darted down to the bottle he was holding, tilting it, letting the remaining liquor slosh around in its contents. “Those boys know how to party,” he said to only himself, mouth open with another amused laugh.  “This is a Private Party!”  He sang gently under his breath and laughed again.

His brows jerked, and he shook his head, fluffy, blond curls slightly disturbed by the motion.

“Gotta get back on my cowboy shit,” he muttered, remembering, and stood upright again.

Wasn’t he already trying that?  Wasn’t stepping away from the Elite, riding solo, supposed to help him finally make a damn name for himself?  Hadn’t his performance in the 12-man Dynamite Dozen Battle Royale proved just what in the hell he’d meant?  A small noise of frustration in his throat and he tried to give those thoughts a mental shove.  He was going to do exactly what he’d just said.  He was going to do what the fuck he promised he was going to do.  Every damn person in every damn crowd was going to make the walls of the arena’s vibrate with their “cowboy shit” chants when he came out to the ring.

He wasn’t going to be buried.  Forgotten. Left behind.  He was done with that.  He was done licking his goddamn wounds.

Adam stormed into the little room where his luggage case was packed and waiting.  The show wasn’t over – walls still reverberating with the cheers of thousands of fans watching the matches – but why stick around?  His thick fingers wrapped around the plastic handle and rolled the case.  He looked back down at the bottle in hand, twisted the cap off and took another hard swallow.  Another grimace chased the burn.

“Woo!”  He hollered and shook his head, laughing again.  The sound bounced empty around the walls and died shortly after.  Drinking was a gamble, and when you were doing it alone…

Grumbling under his breath, he fished his phone out of his pocket, transferring the bottle of liquor to the hand rolling his luggage case beside him.  He’d order a ride and head out.  No point sticking around after the show… not anymore.  He hadn’t really managed to make any new friends and the longer he hung out backstage the more likely he was to run into one of the Elite.

Although, the idea of the lonely hotel room waiting for him didn’t sound any better.

A new notification for an e-mail caught his eye.  He blinked a few times, trying to bring the glowing screen into focus and stopped walking (swaying) altogether so he could hold it closer to his face and make out the reply.

“Oh shit,” he muttered, blue eyes going a little wide.  He glanced around him as if he was going to get caught but was still practically on his own.  A few crewmembers were down the way, but they hadn’t paid him much mind.

The reply was from the e-mail he’d accidentally sent, thinking he was discussing a possible “bit” with Private Party.  Unfortunately, he’d sent it to the wrong address and whoever held that e-mail address had replied.

Hi Adam,

I would absolutely love to do a bit with you… Are you a solo party?  I’ve attached a picture for your viewing pleasure, so you’d know what you could be getting yourself into… hope to hear back from you soon. - XOXO Fawna Rose

He swallowed and glanced at the attachments, slowly moving his thumb over the screen and clicking them open.  What he saw made his mouth go dry, hung gently open in a gap, and the blood rush between his legs.  She was beautiful – the girl who’d replied – with thick curves his fingers suddenly itched to latch onto and hold.  His tongue swept the inside of his lip, and he envisioned himself blemishing her skin with red marks as he sucked his way down her body.  Her eyes were amber-brown, rich, and they reminded him of autumn in the country.  Her lips were full, perfectly kissable, and he found himself aching for what little sound she’d make when he caught her thick bottom lip between his teeth and pinched it tight.  She was scantily dressed in baby pink lace lingerie with matching thigh-high pink fishnet stockings attached by garter belts.  He wanted to slowly peel the little bits of material from her body like he was unwrapping a gift.  He blinked and realized he could see the peekaboo of her nipples through the sheer material.

His head was spinning.

Lost to good judgement a swig or two ago, Adam set the bottle on top of his luggage case and let his thumbs do the talking for him.  A quick e-mail reply was shot back, and he made sure not to mention the entire thing had been a mistake.  When he said he wanted to do a “bit” with Private Party he’d meant something else entirely...  

Hello Fawna,

You’re… wow… uh.. I guess I’d be a solo party… not really sure what I’m getting myself into here lol mind helping a guy out? - Adam

What the hell was he doing? His heart was pounding so hard and fast in his chest he felt as if he might be sick.  Adam swallowed, closing the e-mail application and stuffing his phone into his pocket, grunting at the strain of his half-hard cock bulging against the confines of the clothing he was wearing.

Waving off anyone who tried to talk to him, including a few backstage production members who were concerned when he swayed and stumbled a bit (he took two more gulps from the bottle on his way out), Adam drew in a deep breath of fresh air and pulled out his phone to order a ride.  He’d shaken off whatever stupidity had prompted him to reply to that e-mail and decided he’d just go back to his room, drink the rest of whatever this was he’d taken from Private Party, pass out and get up to catch his afternoon flight back home the next day.  He pushed away the melancholy that chased reality.  He was used to doing that these days.

And he was done with it anyways.  Those feelings.  Defeat. Emptiness.  Feeling lonely even when he was in a room crowded with people who were supposed to be his closest, most trusted friends.  He’d won the damn dynamite dozen battle royale, hadn’t he? And he’d win the diamond ring next week. Everyone would see he meant business.

Closing the app for the ride service, Adam’s finger hovered over the screen lock button on his phone when a little red dot appeared beside the mail application icon.  One unread message.  He grinned and clicked it open.  An e-mail reply from Fawna.

Why don’t you call me, and we’ll talk about this a little more?

Her number followed. He drew a breath and remembered that picture of her in lingerie.  Good sense tried beating at the door of his buzzed mind, but he wouldn’t let it in. The boys had been right.  He needed to get back on his high horse again. He needed to get back on his cowboy shit.

Adam clicked to dial her number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”  Her voice was sweet as honey.

“Hello, is this Fawna? It’s Hangman – er, I mean – Adam.” His brow furrowed as his words stumbled around themselves.  What proof was that alcohol anyways?  He glanced back at the bottle and tried to read the fine print, but everything was blurring together, and his brain wouldn’t stay focused for long.  Especially not with that pretty little thing on the other side of the phone and his insides burning for a complete and total win.

“Hangman?”  She repeated, and he could hear the amusement in her tone.  He realized he had a dumb smile smeared across his mouth that he couldn’t stop if he tried.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s… a whole… thing…”  He blinked. “Hey uh… what exactly did I get myself into, e-mailing you?”

Her laughter was as sweet as the rest of her seemed to be, and it didn’t mock him.  It encouraged his shoulders to relax, and for him to smile too.

“Well, my husband and I have particular interests… have you ever done any swinging before?”

“No, I haven’t,” he was beat red and decided he needed more alcohol.

“Since you’re a solo party… if you’d be interested, we’d meet up, see if we have chemistry and everyone feels safe and comfortable with each other and then find a hotel room to go to and have a little adult fun.”  

He had to bite back the groan.  How long had it been for him?  Fuck… he’d needed all of this more than he realized.

“Normally if you’d have someone who’d like to switch, we do partner-swapping… but… well, my husband also enjoys watching while I have fun with a sturdy, handsome bull… and judging by the sound of your voice…”  Her tone dipped sultry and it made a shiver crawl down his spine until he had to give himself a quick shake and blink a few times, trying to snap back into focus.  A woman like her was a dangerous one.  “I’d say you’re one hell of a specimen.”

“Heh, you could say that,” his country drawl dipped low and liquor-won confidence, the high off the crowd chanting his slogan, made him feel like a different man entirely.  A buzz from his phone showed him a message that his ride had arrived.  “Listen, I’m staying at a hotel already, why don’t I send you the information and we’ll meet in an hour or so?”

“Sounds good, Hangman.”  She playfully purred his ring-name and made his breath hitch and his head spin. “Can’t wait to see you,” were her last words before the call ended and he found he couldn’t scramble fast enough to send the hotel address her way.  Little warning bells tried their hardest to shriek in his mind, somewhere where he’d locked the sober, sensible part of himself away.  Meeting up with a stranger for kinky sex?  Drunk?  What the hell was he doing?

“I’m getting my cowboy shit, that’s what.”  He ground out through clenched teeth and took a breath that swelled up his muscled, barrel chest.

By the time the hour had passed, Adam had drunk the rest of the liquor he’d snatched from Private Party’s hand, sent a jumble of text messages to a few people who were checking in and making sure he was alright (he was confident he’d eventually been able to tell them he was fine, just wanted time to himself at the hotel), showered and changed back into his “cowboy shit” t-shirt (appropriate, for what he was reaching for), jeans, boots, and the belt with the big, silver buckle.  He grinned at himself in the full-length mirror.

“Yeah,” he said approvingly at his reflection, nodding his head, drunk out of his mind and unaware of how dumb he looked doing it.  The proof on that liquor was a hell of a lot stronger than the beer he usually drank. “Yeah…” His fingers pinched the buckle and he leaned, turning and running his inebriated gaze up and down his body.  He curled his fist and bent his arm, flexing the muscles of his bicep.  He thought about the picture Fawna had sent him – that pretty pink lingerie – and her voice as they’d talked.  His sloshed mind reeled, and he grinned as he stepped out into the hotel hall and made his way down to the lobby.

The first thing he thought was: Wow.

The second thing he thought was: Thank God this wasn’t some sort of catfish situation.

Fawna Rose was exactly as her picture showed, only she was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that accentuated every curve he was hungry to watch jerk with each thrust he bucked inside her.  He wondered if she was wearing anything lacey and see-through underneath.  When she looked at him he saw those brown eyes go dark, and he licked his lips as he closed the distance between them.

“Adam?”  She asked, and he grinned wide at how hopeful she sounded. She was into him.

‘Course she was.  Gone were apprehensions or the nerves he felt, always in his head and convinced he wasn’t good enough.  He was coming off a high, winning that dynamite dozen, and had enough liquor in him that he could only have a good time.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes dropping down her curves and back to her pretty face.  “You look even better in person.”  Adam stepped forward, his palm sliding on the curve of her hip, adding gentle pressure at her lower back before he dipped, laying a warm, soft kiss on either side of her cheek.  He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, he never greeted anyone like that, but maybe it was so he could steal a sniff of her perfume… or maybe it was so he could watch her get a little flustered by him.

They’d just met, but Adam decided he liked getting her worked up.  Her rosy cheeks held a blush that hadn’t been applied, and her pupils were dilated, making that amber-brown of her eyes a sliver of a ring around them. She wanted him, and it was the confidence boost he needed.

“My husband is over here,” she said, and Adam nodded and followed in step.  He’d been so wrapped up in how attracted he was to her he’d forgotten she was married to begin with.

The man at the table was big, which was saying something to Adam’s six-foot height and two-hundred and thirty-pound weight.  He was at least five inches taller, maybe twenty pounds heavier, all muscle.  He had blue eyes that cut in a way that Adam’s never had, but maybe the dark black of his long hair and close-shaved beard was what made them stand out more.  He looked like he could be a violent man if it called for it, and again those little warning bells tried chiming off in Adam’s head, trying to tell him this situation was too out-of-left-field for him to get involved with.

“You must be Adam,” the man said with a thick, but warm Scottish accent.  He didn’t look particularly murderous.  In fact, he even smiled.  He’d stood at the table and extended a hand for Adam to shake.  Fawna glanced between them both and pinched her thick bottom lip between her teeth, a little spark of something in her eyes that Adam was too curious not to pick up on.

“You look like you’re up to trouble,” Adam said to her, hand still clasped in her husbands.

“She always is,” Fawna’s husband said with amusement, and Adam’s eyes swung back to him, remembering he was there at all.  It seemed strange that he could completely forget the existence of a six-foot-five-inch Scotsman who even managed to make his hand feel a little small… but god, there was something about her… or maybe it was the entire situation.  Maybe it was because he was drunk.  Maybe he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

God willing, he hoped he did.

“Yeah, I’m Adam.”  He remembered to say, gave her husband’s hand a firmer shake, and then slipped his away.  They all sat down at the table, Fawna and her husband across from him.

“Andrew.”  Her husband said his name finally, extending one hand around Fawna and rubbing his fingertips up and down her bare shoulder. “Fawna says you’re new to swinging,” Andrew said, one thick, dark brow arching inquisitively.

“Yeah,” Adam blinked, knowing if he was sober there was no way in hell he’d be able to have this kind of conversation.  Then again, the pair of them spoke so casually about it, Adam felt like he’d be the weird one if he mentioned how strange it all seemed to him.

Andrew saw right through him and, judging by the grin Fawna had on her mouth, she did too.

“You have some questions then, right?”

“I uh,” Adam blinked, pulling his eyes away from Fawna – god she was gorgeous, he couldn’t wait to see what cute little expression she was going to make when he pushed his cock inside her – and to her husband.  Shit… was that okay, to have those kinds of thoughts when her husband was just inches away from him? Well… they were swingers, and Fawna had said Andrew liked watching her get intimate with another man…

The alcohol once again reminded him that complex thought or worrying about consequences was a dumb idea. It was easier to just… go with the flow.

“Not really, I mean… if this is what y’all enjoy, who am I to be any kind of judge?  I’m the one that e-mailed you, so clearly I knew at least a little of what I was getting into, even if I didn’t know the whole… thing.” He lied, still too embarrassed to admit he’d messed that up and hadn’t meant to find himself in the situation he was now in.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Fawna smiled and reached across the table, lying her hand atop Adam’s.  Her fingertips brushed across his skin and electricity rushed up his veins and all over his body.  He couldn’t think past how damn beautiful he thought she was and all the things he wanted to do to her…

“If it makes you nervous, having Andrew in the room… he doesn’t mind leaving us alone, either.”

Adam’s eyes swung away from her (which was nearly an impossible feat to get his drunken mind to do) and to her husband who was looking at her with much of the same, hungry expression Adam had earlier.

“You don’t?”

Andrew pulled his attention from his wife and smiled at Adam.

“No.” He gently rubbed Fawna’s shoulder, and she leaned subtly forward, giving Adam ample view of her cleavage.  He tried to keep watching Andrew, but his mind zeroed in and there was no helping the way he hungrily watched that line between her breasts, or how his mouth went dry with the want to bite and suckle that sweet, soft flesh.

“It’s as much for me as it is for her.  I like to watch, but I don’t have to.”  Andrew dipped and gently kissed her temple.  His next words were a whispered growl but said loud enough that Adam would hear them too.  “I’ll just make her tell me how much she loved getting fucked by you later,” he laid his lips against the curve of her neck, just below her jaw.  Fawna sucked in a sharp breath and her hungry eyes landed firm on Adam.

“What do you say, cowboy?” She asked, voice tight as her husband littered her neck with kisses.

“I want you.  Only you.”  He’d never been so direct, but it felt good.  It felt damn good to say what he wanted and not bend to everyone else for once.  It felt even better when she gently pushed her palm on her husband’s chest, moving him away from her before she slipped out of her seat and extended an open hand toward Adam.  Even though all parties agreed, there was something… exciting… about another man’s wife choosing him to sleep with, right in front of her husband, too.

Adam led them to the elevator, and that’s where they parted from Andrew.  Fawna gave him a little kiss before she stepped in after Adam.  When the doors to the elevator slid closed, she offered no reprieve.  She pressed the firm length of her body against him and, like it was instinctual, Adam’s wide palms ran down her figure without hesitation.  She littered hot kisses along his neck, making a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan strangle itself in his tight throat.  Her hand fell between them and she stroked the shape of his cock, making him dizzier by the second.  Adam’s palms scooped into the fat of her ass, pinching and squeezing tight enough to elicit a gentle yelp from her mouth that made him grin.

She’d worked him into a frenzy by the time the elevator dinged, and the doors slipped open.  An elderly couple waiting in the lobby looked at them with wide, shocked eyes, but Fawna only giggled and, hand wrapped around his, tugged him after her.  With a laugh in his mouth he followed, giddy and drunk and needy.

He struggled to get the keycard through the slot at the right time, distracted by her hands on his body, slipping up under his shirt as she pressed her nails and gently raked up his back.

“Mmm,” she moaned, and the little green light finally clicked on the door, the lock slid back and he wrenched the damn handle open.

With his hands on her hips, he pushed her into the wall and chased with his body.  His hips dug up against hers, sliding the bulge of his trapped hard-on between her legs.  He moaned in her ear and kissed her skin, getting more and more drunk with every taste of her coating his tongue.  She made the sweetest sounds, little whines and moans, fingers like spiders scurrying hungrily down his body.  She tugged at his shirt and he only paused his feast long enough to lean back and tug it off, letting it fall in a pile on the floor.

“Fuck,” she whispered through kiss-swollen lips, eyes appraising his thick torso and chest. Her fingers pressed up his body, nails skimming his nipples and making him clench his teeth, fighting his eyes as they wanted to roll.

“You like what you see, darlin’?”  His low, rough voice was demanding an answer.  He was someone else entirely tonight.  Someone… someone who’d always been there inside him, but he’d never had the confidence to grab.  He was the Hangman, and he was here to collect his dues.  Next week he’d worry about the ring and about facing MJF. Tonight… tonight he had her.

“Mhm,” she nodded her head and looked up at him.

“C’mere.”  He gripped her wrist – so small, he could easily fit both in one hand – and tugged her gently toward the bed.

Adam didn’t sit her on it. Instead he lowered himself to settle on the edge of the mattress and made her stand in front of him.  

“Take off your dress,” he commanded.  “I want to see you.”

Fawna turned and pulled her soft brown hair aside so he could help unzip her dress.  He watched the peekaboo of soft skin revealed between her shoulder blades and didn’t deny himself from leaning forward and laying a firm kiss there.  His lips lingered on her skin as he tasted her.  Fawna arched her back and hovered a moment as if wanting more.  Adam left her zipper halfway down and gave her ass a little, teasing smack, grinning as she jumped and squealed in playful surprise.

“Take it off,” he said again, both palms flat on the plush comforter as he leaned back to watch her strip for him.

She bit at that full bottom lip again and he clenched, fighting the need to kiss those lips until he bruised them.  Fawna reached up, peeling the top of the sleeveless dress slowly down, tormenting him in the best way possible as she revealed inch after inch of smooth skin.  She wasn’t wearing the lingerie she’d had on in the picture, but he wasn’t complaining.

Fawna stood in front of him in a matching pink satin bra and panty set, with cream lace trim and matching cream pinstripes.  When she turned, Adam’s cock twitched, eyes fallen on the sight of her round, juicy peach of an ass barely caught in those cheeky panties.  It was all too easy for him to lean forward, reach and grab her wrist, tugging her into his lap and giving her no time to breathe before he was kissing her and shoving his tongue along hers.  His fingers skimmed her stomach, curved into the fat of her thighs, and then pressed between her legs.  He stroked her over the material of her panties, just teasing the touch he’d give her, winding her up until she squirmed and whined in his mouth.

They broke apart with a gasp of needed air and he breathed heavy across her face.  The pad of his thumb skimmed that sweet, sensitive little button and made her suck in a shaky, gasped breath.  He teased her, slowly winding her up as he bent and kissed down her neck, her shoulder, over the tops of her breasts.  He latched on to the fat and suckled, rolling the skin between his teeth and pinching gently.  With her mouth free, Fawna moaned needy into the room, and drove him to rub her a little harder, but not enough that he’d deliver satisfaction so early.

Adam pulled his hand away and pushed her upwards, so the weight of her ass settled on one of his thick, sturdy thighs and she was sitting up, looking down at him.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”  He asked, gently taking her chin in his fingers and turning her face as if appraising her beauty.  A smile slipped across his mouth.  “Have you been waiting for someone like me to come along?”

“Mhmmm,” she said, eyes pleading with him to put his hands on her again.

“Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes… I’ve been waiting for you, Adam.”

His thumb and forefinger squeezed her chin a little tighter, and he dropped her gaze, so it could be pinned by his.

“Then show me how badly you want me.”  He said, and let her chin go.  He gently lifted her leg and guided her to straddle the thick thigh he’d previously sat her on.

Fawna rocked her hips, dragging her panties along the stiff denim of his jeans, gasping and moaning when a particular sweep hit the right mark and sent shivers of pleasure through her thighs.  Adam watched, his chest tight and mind buzzing.  It was as torturous as it was pleasurable to watch her ride his thigh, her legs shaking at either side of his, the pace growing subtly quicker. His still-trapped cock was thick and hard, twitching and leaking under his clothes.  It was almost too much to bear, this tease, but he liked watching her work herself into a frenzy on him.

He liked being the man she wanted to get off on.  He liked the confidence it gave him.  He liked what it did to him.  Who she made him.

Adam’s fingers found her warm hips, and he guided her a little faster, a little faster, enjoying the expressions pleasure made on her cute, round face.

“Don’t cum until I say so,” he said, suddenly firm.

Fawna’s eyelashes fluttered and she bit that lip again, whining.

“Please, Adam,” she drug herself along his hard, muscled thigh and made a soft, desperate little sound.

“Nu-uh,” he whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“But I’m so close,” her brows pinched tight together, her mouth hung open.

“Too bad,” he whispered playfully and, just when it seemed she was going to lose it on the next grind, Adam moved.  He pinched her waist and stood up, upsetting their weight and making her stumble off his thigh.  He’d brought her right to the edge and snatched her away before she reached nirvana. Frustration pinched her otherwise adorable features, but Adam found he thought she was even cuter all riled up like that.

He’d never let himself have this much fun before and he wasn’t sure if it was the booze still singing in his veins, the pep talk that’d reminded him to get back on his cowboy shit, or Fawna herself.  Maybe it was a combination of all three.

He stood up and grimaced as the tight denim of his jeans stretched around his erection.  

“Take the rest off and lay back for me, darlin’.”

Adam watched as Fawna climbed onto the bed, purposefully sinking slow into the soft plush mattress, giving him ample view of her ass tucked in those pink, lace-trim cheeky panties. The groan he stifled vibrated in his throat, and he reached down to yank his damn buckle out of the belt’s clasp, letting the leather hang open on either side as he pinched the button of his jeans.  He’d just yanked the zipper down when, her sultry brown eyes on his, Fawna peeled the bra from her breasts like she was undoing the gold foil wrapping around some extravagant and far too expensive treat.  He ate up the sight of her breasts gently resting, free, and how pretty and inviting her pink nipples were.  His mouth went dry and ached, wanting to latch around and suckle her skin until he left pretty little blue bruises.

Hooking his thumb into the denim, he gave it a sharp tug down his thick, blond-hair dusted thighs and stepped out of them, his boots, and his socks.  His hard cock was an impressive bulge against the material of his boxers, and he watched her eyes drop to it, just as she had begun to slip her panties down those legs he so badly wanted to taste.  A cocksure grin pushed higher into one side of his cheek than the other.  He liked her looking at him like that, like only he could make her feel the way she was feeling right now.  

Adam liked thinking he was the only man on her mind, even while her own husband had been with them just a little bit ago.  Maybe he was enjoying this “swingers” thing more than he thought he would…

She slipped her panties off and dropped them off the side of the bed, laying herself back on the plain white comforter, a vision as she bent her legs and propped herself up on the pillows. Adam took a few seconds to eat the sight of her up, eyes running down her body and letting her see how he watched her and how his body reacted to him watching her.  His cock throbbed, painfully filled with blood, the tip leaking pre-cum enough to gently dampen the dark dyed cotton material of his boxers. He pinched the elastic and slid them off, leaving him as nude as she was.

Fawna’s teeth caught her lip – a habit, he was noticing – and her eyes were dark as a new moon night out in the country, away from city lights.  She let those eyes fall over every inch of him, and Adam stood a little taller.  A little surer of himself.

“You like what you see, baby girl?”  He asked and watched her closely to catch every expression she made as she answered. Her eyes flew back up to his.

“Yes,” the word came out in a needy, breathy sigh, and Adam decided he’d had enough teasing.

His weight sank into the bed as he crawled up its length and fell a hungry shadow over her.  Her thighs fell apart like the gates to paradise were opening for him, and he was the ravaged soul that needed its heavenly comforts.  Adam’s hips rolled hers up, pushing her knees into the air.  The tip of his cock – bare, neither of them seemed worried about the lack of protection – sank a mere inch or two into her warm, wet slit.  The muscles in his arms trembled, and he wrapped them around her back, curling her into him before he thrust forward and shoved the length of his thick, throbbing cock inside her.

A groan poured hot from his mouth and washed over her face.  She answered with a whine of her own, and a small utterance of his name that sounded like a plead.  As if she were begging him, convinced he was the only man capable of offering her salvation. One hand stayed wrapped around her and the other slid up her body, palm squeezing her breast, pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers before he drew a small yelp that was chased by a moan.  That hand traveled on, grabbing each one of her wrists, wrapping his fingers around them – his hand was big enough to catch both – and raising them up over her head. He pinned her and left her unable to touch him, unable to do anything but lay a willing victim to thrust after thrust as he shoved his hips up toward hers, balls slapping the wet slick that covered her ass and his thighs.

A low growl out of his mouth, and his eyes rolled.  When they rolled back, he thrust harder.  Faster. It didn’t even feel better to rip it up inside her, but it felt good to feel like he had the control, like he had some ungodly strength and power, and he’d leave her bruised and thinking about him well into the next day.

Finally, sweat dripping down the line in the middle of his chest and sticking their skin together, Adam slowed his pace.  His breaths fell in hard, heavy waves over her.  The muscles in his thighs and ass ached as he gently relaxed them and slipped his hands away from her wrists.  He’d pinched them so tight his fingers left soft white marks in her skin.  He glanced down at her and caught her deliriously pleasured gaze.  It made him smile and laugh on a weak exhale.  

“You like that, don’t you darlin’?”  He asked her gently, like one would talk to a cute little kitten.

“Yes,” she panted back, and her lips pressed into a smile that made his grow.

“You’re a wild little filly,” he said, playful edge dipping his country drawl deep, “and I’ve got a mind to tame you.”

“That so, cowboy?” She asked, her voice still tight and breathless.  She was trying to tease, but he’d affected her and she was struggling to come out of the fog of gratification.  It satisfied him to see it.

Adam shifted, lifting his torso off her body and kneeling between her legs, still halfway thrust inside her, never once pulling out.  He glanced down where they were joined, saw the fat veins running along his girthy erection, and how he glistened with wet from how messy she’d been thus far.  One eyebrow arched with a jump as his eyes slid from that sight, up her naked body, and to her face.  A smile hung lazy on his mouth as his big hands grabbed her legs at either side of his body, lifting them and setting her ankles on his broad shoulders.  Bringing her legs up helped him push deeper when he slowly leaned forward, sinking the few extra inches and doing it slowly, letting her cunt adjust to what it felt like to be strained by him.

Then, as he started to thrust, Adam’s palm clapped with a spank against her ass.  She yelped, and he smacked her again.  The fat of her ass rippled, and he clenched his jaw, smacking her again.  Harder. There was a red print in the shape of his hand across her pale ass.  It made him hungrier.  His thrusts came in shorter, harder bursts.  He slapped her again.

“Adam!”  She screamed his name.

“That’s right darlin’,” he barely managed to squeeze it through the gaps in his teeth, and it was chased by a long groan as a particular thrust sent a shiver through the tip of his head, down his shaft and down his balls.  They were sucked up tight to the base of his cock.   “Scream my name, let them know – Nnnggghhfuck – let them know who’s the man,” his mind felt fuzzy, drunk on pleasure plunging into her was giving him.

She cried out, moaning as he thrust forward, sinking his hips against hers.  He smacked her ass and squeezed hard into the flesh, drawing a cute little yelp out of her lips again.  Adam drew his hips back and sank deep inside.

He knew she was close.

“Cum,” he commanded, barely managing to get the word out of his tight throat.

“Adam!  Fuck!!!”  

She came, her thighs clamping together and her pink painted toes curling on either side of his head. She quivered and twitched and made little sounds of undeniable gratification.  The warm, wet muscles of her cunt squeezed and pulled at his already on-the-verge cock.  He couldn’t hold off anymore.

With a long moan that started as her name and quickly was lost to sensible words, Adam collapsed forward on her, decorating her insides with ribbons of warm cum.  His moan was a long breath over her, and he was victim to do nothing but hold her still as the sensation passed.  He became nothing more than a beast, lost to reasonable sense. He was his pleasure.  He was the nirvana at finally seizing what he wanted in life and coming out victorious because of it.  He was everything Fawna had given to him.

Then, he breathed.  He came back down to earth and slowly pushed his body off hers, his arms feeling alienlike in how weak they were.  There was a different sort of exhaustion after particularly good sex, like a good cry or an unstoppable laugh that nearly robs you of all air.  Cathartic.

Adam smiled down at her and gingerly helped rearrange their limbs to a more comfortable position.  He kept himself tucked inside her – just for a moment longer as he slowly softened – and laid down behind her.  Fawna happily obliged, curling into his body, seemingly not ready to let him go just yet.  His lips pressed a kiss into her temple, and she turned her head to smile up at him.

“You are something else, cowboy.”  Her pleasure-exhausted voice was soft, just barely spoken above a whisper.  

Adam chuckled behind closed lips and reached to tuck a strand of her brown hair behind her ear, then fell into cradling her face.  His thumb skimmed across her soft, round cheek.  He stretched, leaning up (and trying not to grunt as his still sensitive cock was shoved a little bit up inside her again) and placed his lips against hers in a sweet, satiated kiss.  When he pulled away, he was smiling, and she was too.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”  A pause, and he decided to tell her.  “Hey, did you know I e-mailed you by mistake?”  His grin stretched with amusement.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.”  She laughed.

“What?!  You did?”

“You were so sweet in your e-mail… and, if I’m being honest…”  She bit at her lip and Adam was surprised to find that despite being sexually drained in the best way, seeing the sight of it made him hungry all over again.  God… he wished he could go at her again.  She peered up through her lashes at him.

“What is it darlin’?”

“I didn’t actually expect to get an answer back to my reply to you.  I figured you’d tell me it was a mistake and that’d be that.  Plus… I may or may not kind of know who you are.”  She flashed an innocent smile at him, but it was all too clear it hid the mischief of an imp underneath.

Adam’s blond brows rose up on his forehead.

“You do?”

“I put two-and-two together from your name and then when you introduced yourself as Hangman…well, I just considered myself a lucky girl.”  That playful little smile again.  It made his palm itch to slap that welted curve of her ass.  The little tease… she had to know the effect she had on him.

“And just so you know,” she glanced down their still-joined bodies.  “What just happened right now?  That was some real cowboy shit.”

[holly-hep]

The Beauty of Being Numb | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Chapter 2: I Think We’re Alone Now

Not my gift, it belongs to @subtlehysteria​

Index

(Y/N) was completely lost looking at Klaus while he poured some more liquor in his cup. He hadn't changed a bit, he looked exactly like the first time she saw him all those years ago in rehab.

She had waited so long to see him again. She hoped for him to visit his dad someday, but he never did, nor the others. And Mr. Hargreeves knew the exact location of all his children but Klaus, he was just too unpredictable and never stayed in a single place for long. (Y/N) was about to give up all hope when the old man died and Pogo told her Klaus probably would pass by, but she wasn’t so sure. Yet, there he was, the sun illuminating his face like a dream come true.

-So, did you?- she blinks, realizing the man was talking to her the whole time.

-I’m sorry... What?

-Oh, don’t worry, you can tell me, I won’t snitch on you with Luther- she looks at him confused-. Did you kill my dad?

-No!- she feels a sting on her chest-. How can you even...?

-I’m just kidding, love!- he laughs it off-. I know you didn’t, Luther’s just paranoic, like always.

-Oh.

-How you’ve been? I thought I’ll never see you again.

He walks to her and takes her hands in his. She blushes.

-Great... I’ve missed you.

-Who doesn’t?- Klaus smiles nattily-. I want to talk with you about so many things, but... Can you help me first?

-Sure!

-I don’t want Luther to be nagging me about the whole “Dad was murdered” thing. Can you sober me up so I can talk to him?

(Y/N) frowns. 

-Are you sure?- she places a hand on his cheek-. I know you hate using your power.

-Yeah, but if it helps me get Luther off my ass, I will.

-Ok- she isn't convinced yet, but if that helped him feel better, she’ll help.

They walk back to the living room, now empty, and Klaus sits down in front of the urn. 

-Whenever you’re ready- he nods, and the girl concentrates, her eyes turning yellow.

She starts feeling tipsy, the effect of absorbing Klaus’s drunkenness and something else.

-Listen up, old man- Klaus is suddenly serious, passing around the room-. You know, if I was murdered, and one of my sons... Adopted sons... Happened to be able to commune with the dead, I might think about, I don’t know, I don’t know... Manifesting! Do the whole big angry ghost lecture!

He throws his arms up, frustrated, and then starts imitating his father’s voice:

-Tell everyone who done it and find eternal peace- he sighs and stops fooling-. Eternal peace is probably overrated.

They spent hours trying to communicate with Reginald, but nothing happened. Maybe he wasn’t available? What do people even do in the afterlife?

-C’mon, C’mon! Chop, chop!- Klaus screams, surprising (Y/N)-. You always were a stubborn bastard!

-Klaus!

-Sorry- he approaches the bar-. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.

She lets go of him, her eyes going back to normal, and runs to get between him and the bottles.

-I don’t think you should drink so much just after leaving rehab.

-Sweetheart, I only went to the clinic because I had nowhere to sleep. I'm a lost cause.

He tries to grab a bottle, but Sol hits his hand away. He glares at her, faking being offended. 

-C’mon, love.

-No.

-(Y/N)

-No.

Both adults start fighting, Klaus trying to grab a bottle and Sol blocking his way.

-Klaus, stop!

In his attempt to grab the whiskey, his elbow hits his father’s urn and it tips over, the ashes falling all over the counter.

-Fuck...

-Sir Reginald!

(Y/N) kneels down and tries to collect the ashes with frenzy while Klaus laughs at her back.

-It’s not funny! Help me, you idiot!.

She was mortified, Luther was going to kill them, or worst. Klaus kneels beside her with the urn and starts pouring the ashes back in it. He is was laughing, too high to care in the bare minimum, when he heard (Y/N) sobbing.

-Hey, hey- he takes her by the chin-. Don’t worry, no one will notice. And if they do, I’ll take the blame, ok? It’s okay.

He hugs her, accidentally leaving some ashes on her back. He just blows them away and smiles at her.

(Y/N) just sniffles and finishes picking up as many ashes as she can. Then, she stands up and goes to the kitchen, not speaking to Klaus.

-Love, common...- he follows her with it in his hands-. Are you mad?

-No- she is scared and sad but isn't about to say it.

-(Y/N)- he takes her by the hand and pulls her to him-. What’s wrong?

-It's just that... I really wanted your siblings to like me. And now they even suspect I killed your father. 

-Oh, love- he leaves the urn in the table-. No one thinks you killed dad, but Luther. And he's just being a dickhead, like always. Besides...

-I also expected to see you rehabilitated. After all these years, I was hoping you were on the right path. 

Klaus fell silent, suddenly feeling terrible and for the first in his life, regretting his decisions. He just couldn't stand the deception in her eyes. 

-And if I promise to you I'll try being sober?- he'll regret saying that later. 

-Really?- her eyes light up. 

-Yeah- he looks in his pockets and takes out a plastic bag with pills-. Starting now. See? It's all I have, I promise. 

She looked at him suspiciously. 

-Look, I'm even going to make myself a coffee to sober up a little, ok? 

-I can make it for you- (Y/N) smiles softly, believing him-. Sit down while I prepare it. 

She turns to look for a mug and he takes the opportunity to take three pills, quickly swallowing them. Just after he does, she remembers and takes the bag from the table, throwing the pills to the trash. 

-Where were you?- Sol asks while searching for the coffee.

-Sorry?- Klaus sits on the table.

-When you find out about your dad...

-Oh.

“I was being resurrected in an ambulance after an overdose.” He thinks.

-I was walking out of the rehab clinic, I saw it in a newspaper.

-And where were you going? Where do you live?

-I’m a free spirit, darling.

(Y/N)  turns to see him shocked:

-Are you homeless?

-You can also put it that way.

-Don’t you have someone? You know... Like a partner or something?- she almost crosses her fingers for the answer to be no.

-Oh no, love- she goes back to stirring the coffee and smiles-. I’m not a one-person man, you know that.

-Sure.

Sol puts the spoon in the sink and is about to grab the mug when music starts playing from the upper floors.

“Children behave, that’s what they say when we’re together.”

-What’s that?- she asks as Klaus looks to the ceiling.

-Tiffany.

-Who?

-The singer, Tiffany- she looks at him confused-. You really don’t know her?

Sol denies. 

-She was a big deal in the ‘80s.

Klaus jumps to the floor, and she laughs as he started moving his hips, dancing to the rhythm.

-Dance with me, (Y/N)

The girl shakes her head, turning red for the millionth time that day. Klaus pouts and starts slowly dancing towards her, extending his arms.

-I don’t know how to dance- she admits. 

-Yes, you do.

The boy offers his hand, she can read “Hello” on his palm. Shyly, she takes it and he pulls her closer, almost to his chest, and starts dancing.

“I think we’re alone now, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”

She starts relaxing, letting the music guide her. She doesn't believe it is intended to be danced like that, but she isn't complaining; having Klaus so close was amazing.

“Look at the way we gotta hide what we’re doin’.”

He lets go of her hand and moves excitedly around the room. She laughs, letting her hair finally free.

"Cause what would they say if they ever knew..." 

Klaus covers his face with his hands while (Y/N) spins around, her long skirt flowing like a wave. He then takes the urn from the table and starts dancing with it.

-Klaus, leave that!- she laughs nervously.

She approaches him, taking it from him and putting it back on the table. He takes her again by the hand and starts dancing together at a slow pace. 

"And then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground..."

He was hot, literally, she can feel his warm bare chest against hers. The girl rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment. 

"I think we're alone now, the beating of our hearts, it's the only..." 

She takes a step back and Klaus jumps when the music is interrupted by a loud strike and the lights go out.

[dailyaudiobible]

09/17/2020 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 25:1-28:13, Galatians 3:10-22, Psalms 61:1-8, Proverbs 23:17-18

Today is September 17th welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you today just like it is great to be here with you any day. It is a great to be alive upon the earth no matter how crazy things get upon the earth. The life breath of our Father is within us. We are here. Our ears are open, and we invite the Holy Spirit to speak through the word of God as we do every day. And, so, let's dive in. We’re reading from the English Standard Version this week. Isaiah chapter 25 verse 1 through 28 verse 13.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the book of Galatians, the letter to the Galatians from what we read today we…we arrive at justification by faith. And that's a theological term for sure. And…I mean…you know our eyes can glaze over with theological concepts easy enough. I like them…I love them actually, but it's easy enough to…that it becomes cliché - justification through faith. But what is the essence here? And…and we’ve been talking about how Paul was controversial and we’ve even been kind of putting ourselves in the position of his hearers to understand like how complex and how difficult it would've been for them to embrace what Paul is saying and why they thought he was a heretic, but we should understand that this could not have been an easy road for Paul. We met Paul when his name was Saul and when we met him he was persecuting people who believed in Jesus trying to stamp this message out, even being present at the first…the first recorded martyrdom, that of Stephen, where Saul’s there holding everybody's cloak while they’re killing, like throwing rocks at Stephen until he dies, which cannot be a good way to go. Paulk’s on his way to Damascus to continue the same, right, when he meet…when he meets Jesus. And, so, you can only imagine like the complete rewiring of a whole system that you have given your life to, the just…the complete disruption of it all for Paul so that he has to go and just really examine what it is he believes as it's being revealed by Jesus. And, so, we can see why Paul would start at the beginning with Abraham and move forward. And we can see why things would start to click for Paul, once he does that because he begins to realize there isn't any action, there isn't any kind of obedience to a certain rule or set of rituals that is gonna make us righteous before God. Maybe if somebody could actually live into those things, maybe God is saying, “okay, if you can do all this then you can be righteous, but nobody can, nobody could. So, that can't be the endgame.” So, Paul goes back to the beginning of the story, he goes back to Abraham, he finds out Abraham believed and that belief, that faith in God and what God had said, that trust in the experience that he had had, that this was real and wasn’t gonna be stolen from him, that God had spoken to him, and he believed it, that was counted to him as righteousness. And righteousness was Paul’s goal. That's why he was such a strict Pharisee. That's what they were trying to do, obey the law and be made righteous before God ultimately. So, Paul’s like, “hang on”, basically, “hang on. Abraham didn't have a law to obey and he still was made righteous before God.” In fact, and as we read in our reading today, “the law didn't come for 430 more years. So, what about all those people? Like were they able to be made righteous through faith in God? Because that was the only way. There was no rituals, there was no system of organization…organizing the people around something. They believed and were made righteous. This is the origin of justification by faith.” And, so, then, having that laid out, having that perspective unpacked, then Paul says, and I quote him, “is the law then contrary to the promises of God? Certainly not! For if a law had been given that could give life, then righteousness would indeed be by the law. But the Scripture imprisoned everything under sin so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.” It's back to his original, his…his constant argument. The law shows you that you are impossibly separated from God and dying that way unless you can achieve it, like unless you can live a perfectly. But you can't and Abraham didn't either. He believed. He believed. He trusted God. And, so, for Paul, he’s like “that's all we have to do here. Like, that's the long and short of it. We have to believe and allow that belief to transform us because we are experiencing the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is transforming us from within and leading us forward into life.” I mean we could just…you know…put an exclamation point there or whatever, and just go, “there, that's the story, like that's what he’s saying”, because that is what he’s saying. We just have to acknowledge based on all of the back story that we have…that we've entered into is that, as good of news as this was it was like too good, right? Like too good, too simple. Like “really, that's it. I believe and then I die, and I’m resurrected, and I relax. I…I…I fall into the soft pillow of grace and I am then enveloped by the arms of the one that I can now call Father, Abba, God, the God that I'm so afraid of, that I'm following all of the rituals to try to…to try to stay on His good side. The hoops that I'm jumping through, the levers that I'm pulling, the recipes that I'm building, the stew of my life that I'm trying…trying to whip up, all of that's not gonna get me there, like that doesn't do anything? All I have to do is believe and let God transform me?” That is good news friends. That is the good news. And it was difficult good news for many to embrace. And then we gotta look in the mirror. What recipes are we making? What rituals are we following? What hoops are we jumping through? What levers are we trying to pull to get the same thing to get the attention of God and try to stay on His good side when it's all done? All we have to do is believe and fall back into it, ease back into it. Yes, yes, we have to fight the flesh. Yes, we have to live into sanctification. Yes, it requires a lot of things, primarily endurance, but we’re not in this alone, we’re not navigating alone. It's done. Our Father loves us enough to…enough to be so intimate with us that He dwells inside of us. He is within us. It is His work of sanctification. It is His work of conversion. It is His work of restoration and renewal. It's not our work. We keep trying…we keep trying to be made righteous. We can't. We can’t be made righteous. We can believe and become righteous because of the gift of God that is constantly at work within us. May we live into this good news. May this good news accelerate inside of us the transformation happening, moment by moment, day by day step by step as we continue our journey through life with our Father.

Prayer:

Father You are so good. When we understand this, You are so good. And, so, much that You have made available to us through faith we’re still trying to earn and we’re still feeling guilty every single step of the way because we can't earn it. When You have to find moments of exasperation, I suppose You don't, Your God, but You have to have these moments where it's, “like my darling, my son, my daughter, my precious one, You don't have to do this, it's done. Let's enjoy being together. Let's enjoy life together. And as You live into this and it transforms You then You will be doing what You're supposed to be doing. You will be shining brighter than You can possibly know.” Help us live into this. Come Holy Spirit, well up from within us. Help us to live this today. We ask in the name of the risen Christ. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is…is home, it's where the Global Campfire, it’s where a virtual community like ours can get connected. And, so, check it out.

There are several sections if you haven't ever been. Check out the Community section. It's how to get connected. It's where the Prayer Wall is. Check out the Initiatives. This is some of the things that are going on that are featured. Check out the Shop. Resources are available there specifically for the journey that we’re taking together. So, be aware and check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at the website as well, or in the app and just press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, we’re a community of prayer and we love each other well by praying for each other and caring for each other. If you have prayer request, if you're carrying the burdens that you’re trying to shoulder, they just happen to be crushing you, maybe you don't have to do that completely by yourself. Maybe just calling in, just letting…just releasing it, just saying it out loud and releasing it and knowing that no matter what happens thousands and thousands of people are going to pray for you. That makes a difference, a pretty profound difference. So, you can always reach out. There is a hotline built right into the app that no matter where we are on this big blue planet, as long as there's an Internet tower somewhere, we have a hotline. We can reach out. So, be aware of that. That's in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi everybody it’s Carla Jean from Promp Nevada I’m calling with praise report. Many of you remember that last year I was divorced from my husband of 25 years and at the beginning of this year I lost my job and I was homeless and he allowed me to stay in his guestroom and we rekindled our relationship and on Friday, September 11th on what would’ve been our 27th wedding anniversary we were remarried. I know that many of you had prayed and I’m just so thankful for this community. And today on the 13th Brian read from second Corinthians 13:11, “rejoice, strive for full restoration. Encourage one another. Be of one mind. Live in peace and the God of love and peace will be with you.” Thank you, my brothers and sisters for encouraging me, for being of one mind, and for living a life of peace. Please know that I pray for all of you every single day. I love you and I’m just rejoicing. God bless. Bye.

Hi this is Paul from Wales my DABber name is Why I Follow Jesus 365 which I run on Facebook but today I was out on mission again. I’m just grateful for the way that following the DAB has absolutely changed my life over the last five years. And saw another two people saved this morning. That’s either the 28 or 29. Got three people in the message book waiting to discuss Jesus. Be praying for them for a while. And just want to give a praise report. God’s at work. It’s fantastic. It’s going brilliant and none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t started with DAB. And it’s just changed my life to walk the walk and be encouraged. That’s were called to do. And as much as giving mission and telling people God loves you and has a perfect plan for your life it really is about us learning to be obedient. And until we do as He tells us people won’t be saved and it’s just hopefully an encouragement for somebody no matter the difficulties in the challenges. And the other fantastic thing is I learned this week to really follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance in my personal life over things like buying cars. And none of that what I even have attempted to consider before DAB. So, thank you bless you take care stay safe in America, terrible what I’m seeing on the news. You’re in my prayers. Take care.

[Singing starts] dear God please help all the people that are in the fire. Please help them to be safe and not to get hurt. Please help them to know that you’re with them. Dear Lord, we love you so much. Dear Lord, we love you. You’re in our heart. We’re in yours too. Please help other people to learn about you [singing stop’s]. Thank you.

Hi, DABbers this is Kari from California I am also a longtime listener in the first-time caller. Today is Monday the 14th I was just listening to the prayers and Sue’s from California I heard your prayer and just wanted to call and thank you for calling in for the first time to ask for prayer for your family. I was so touched by your message and will be praying for you and your family but also just encouraged by the faith that all of you have as you’re in the midst of all these challenges and a lot of unknown. You are standing strong in your faith and your encouragement has encouraged me and will encourage others. So, Lord we just lift up Sue’s and her family Lord. We lift up her husband who’s on hospice now and we just ask for Your intervention Lord. Be with the family as they walk through this time with him. Lord lift up Sue’s and ask that You would just take this depression away Lord, that You would flood her with Your peace and encourage her for her daughter and this cancer Lord. We ask for a miraculous healing. We rebuke this in Your name Father, and we claim healing for her daughter that she wouldn’t even have to start this chemo in October. And for her son, whatever is going on there that he’s not ready to share Lord that we also ask for healing for him. We ask for healing for Sue’s colon and we just ask Your grace and peace and mercy on this family. DABbers I love you all. Thank you for this community. Have a blessed day.

Hi, good morning this is Jeanette from Denmark. I’d really appreciate some prayer. I have recently had a virus and my body’s been trying to get back to normal after it. And I take some medicine to help keep my immune system up and when that is playing together with an infection it usually means I don’t sleep very well. I want to share what the Lord comforted me with last night while praying, that, yes, He is our God who sees us but He’s not a human being like people who only can look. He’s our shepherd who sees us through everything. When Abraham’s son Ishmael was together with his mother, the Egyptian slave in the desert, God didn’t just let them go. He sent an angel to provide water and encouragement. And our God is the very best shepherd we have. He’s more powerful than everything that is around us, no matter what it is. I love you guys over in the states. I am…I’m praying for you guys during the election season. Remember to guard the door of your heart. Be careful what goes in your eyes and your ears and have peace. The Lord sees you. The Lord knows you and He loves you.

Hi, Brian hi DABbers this is Emily in Seattle. I haven’t called in a while. I just wanted to let you know that things are good. Things are really good. I’m still dealing with my vision loss and that isn’t fun but everything else in our life can be summarized in one word, grace. The grace is abounding more and more in these last days and I pray you guys feel His grace as much as I do and are experiencing His grace even through all the hardships that we’re going through in these last days of COVID and everything happening in the world. And I just wanted to let you know that I love you all very, very much. God bless you guys so, so much. Keep listening to the DAB. Keep out there with your faith. Keep the faith going. You got this. I love you all. Bye.

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Best Mistake Pt. 5: That Day At The Bay

You turn left as you approach the all too familiar greeting sign of the Akomish reservation in Salmon Bay. You proceed to park your car at the designated visiting area and sigh upon turning off the ignition. Immediately your mind begins to flood with all sorts of inquiries and concerns.

‘Is Delsin still upset with me?’

‘Would he even want to talk after yesterday's whole fiasco?’

‘I wonder what happened after I left the station….’

‘He is still alive right?....’

Okay, the last one just might be amplified worry on your behalf but considering how Delsin hasn't responded to your text messages or calls, and knowing the natural nature of Uncle Sully, it has you a little worried.

"I'll handle the rest" - your dear ole Uncle Sully.

To everyone who was there at the police station when all the events of yesterday occurred those words would sound simple and just as is. However to you, someone who's known Uncle Sully, better yet Detective Sullivan, your whole life you know that those words are just a different way of saying "I'll 'take care' of this," and you've seen just enough Mafia movies to ignite your paranoia within.

Uncle Sully has always been a very ardent man, especially when it comes to family. Not that Delsin is a threat to anyone in any way but Sully doesn't prefer to have introductions conducted at the police station. That would probably place the person on his radar and God help those who are. No doubt yesterday’s sudden run in at the station gave Sully a very not so good presentiment of Delsin and you believe he deserves way better than a misguided first impression. Not to mention the whole confusion in the beginning when he claimed not to know you and that the tag was his doing alone but then you insisted that it was a lie, in which he kept insisting that it wasn't and for you to not interrupt him. Your hands tighten around your steering wheel as you cringe at the memory. You doubt that Delsin fooled your uncle with his claims but you still need to know what happened after you left the station, or at least know that Delsin hasn't been sent off to a country on the other side of the planet with minor communication outlets.

You exit your car, lock the doors, and begin to walk towards the direction of your friend's house. Curiously, your mind starts to wonder as to why Delsin hasn't been able to respond back to you. Or is it that he simply didn't want to?

Slowly, you come to a stop and frown in sadness at such a thought, "Could it really be that he's just ignoring me?"

The thought alone has your feet glued in place to the ground. You notice you've almost passed the Longhouse. You turn around to face it and then glance at the two paths available for you to take. You can either go left and walk back to your car and leave or you can go right and continue on the path to Delsin and Reggie's neighborhood. Your eyes linger at the sight of your car a few meters away but you softly shake your head and decide to continue treading forward onto your right.

"No. I know he wouldn't do that," you mumble. "We just gotta talk."

You walk past the Longhouse but before you can get very far you hear a familiar voice call your name causing you to halt your march and turn around. Betty is the person who comes into your line of sight and your lips curve into a natural smile. You wave at her as she proceeds to walk down the steps from the Longhouse and approaches you.

"I thought I saw you," she says as if to confirm an inner assumption.

"Betty! Hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine dear and you?"

"I-uh," you briefly look at the ground, "I've been better."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have a fever?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, no it's not that," you lightly giggle, "physically I'm fine it's just.... well I'm a little worried. Delsin and I sorta had a fight yesterday and we haven't really gotten the chance to settle anything."

"Oh I see, well whatever it is I'm sure you two will figure it out soon," she smiles at you.

"Thanks Betty. By any chance h-have you seen him today?"

"Yes, but a while back. He took off earlier, something about heading to Seattle. I thought he was going to visit you so I’m a little surprised to see you here."

Your cheeks briefly heat up at how even Betty just always assumes whenever Delsin goes to Seattle it's to see you, "Oh, I don't know. There's always the possibility that he could've gone to visit the space needle. He tells me he's always wanted to see it."

"Don't tell him I said this, but I think he'd still much rather see you," she winks.

"Betty!" you laugh and feel your cheeks get warmer and redder. "That's sweet but after ignoring all my calls and texts and not even notifying me of being in Seattle I don't think that's entirely true," you brood.

Betty looks at you as if she wants to say more but before she gets the chance your phone suddenly starts to ring.

"Sorry, just a sec," you say as you casually retrieve your phone from your back pocket and your eyes immediately light up at the sight of Delsin's contact photo. "It's him!" you chirp.

"Tell him I said hi, I'll be in the Longhouse if you need me," she smiles and walks away.

You nod and take a brief moment to cool down and collect yourself before answering the call.

'Okay. I'm cool and collected. I am cool AND collected.'

"Oh my God, you're alive! Delsin where the hell have you been?!"

"Woah, okay that was louder than anticipated," he grunts.

‘Okay, well, at least he totally is alive and probably temporarily partially deaf from one ear....’

"Sorry," you cringe, though he can’t see you. "That totally wasn't supposed to come out like that."

"It's cool, having Reggie as a brother kind of makes you used to conversation starters like that," he chuckles. "Minus the 'you're alive part' that's only for very special occasions."

You lightly scoff, "Yeah well I guess I should've already known that you are alive considering how Betty says she saw you this morning. By the way, she says hi."

"Tell her I said hi back -wait are you at the reservation?"

"Well yeah," you start to pace around, "you didn't reply to any of my texts or calls so I thought I’d swing by to make sure my uncle didn't go all mafia on you, so to speak," you nod your head.

"That is so sweet," his voice is laced with amusement as he places his hand over his heart, "you went all that way to make sure your uncle didn't off me."

You scoff in reply.

"No seriously that's pretty damn nice of you," he chuckles. "Buuut it also makes me feel kinda bad to have sorta made you drive all the way down there when I'm here in Seattle waiting for you."

"Hmmm if only we had like a cool portable communication device which can be used to, oh I don’t know, call people and notify them that they’ll be in town or something ya know. Or better yet ignore calls and texts from said communication device and make people very worried for other people,” you say, partly sarcastically.

"Yeah about that, sorry for going all awol on you last night... and this morning. My phone died as soon as I got home last night so I plugged it in and went to go take care of some stuff and completely forgot to check it this morning. You're not mad are you?"

You sigh, "I was never mad to begin with, just super worried about you."

"Well how about i make it up to you?"

"I think with what you did last night I’m the one that owes you. I gotta ask though, why'd you do it? Some part of you must've known that I wasn't gonna just sit back and let you take the whole blame for everything. Especially when it wasn’t yours to take"

"Okay first,” he starts, “you don’t owe me anything and second, all of me knew you weren’t going to let me take the blame. That's why I tried to play the whole ‘annoyed person because someone is interrupting him speak’ trope," you can't actually see him but you can just sense the smirk forming on his face. "It didn't work exactly how I planned it to but it did work out… mostly."

"What do you mean?" you furrow your brows.

"It's not a long story but a story for a later time. Later today actually, I need to show you something. Can you meet me by the Latte Owl?"

"Sure, which one?"

"I'll text you the one."

"Alright. What is it you're gonna show me, did they release a new drink or something? Because I’m subscribed to their updates and didn't get anything about a new drink."

"Uh no,” he ponders, “not that I'm aware of but I promise that what I'm going to show you is way better!"

You can hear the enthusiasm in his voice and consequently smile, "Okay, Rowe. I'll see you soon."

"Can't wait," he smoothly replies and you hang up.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He takes one last glance at the painted brick wall before he starts on his walk towards the Latte Owl to meet you. Considering how it’s only about a 7 minute walk from where he came from, Delsin arrives at the set meeting place fairly early. It’s when steps into the cafe and is greeted by the bittersweet smell of coffee and donuts that he realizes he forgot to eat breakfast so he decides to order himself some food to sit down and eat as he waits for you. Having traveled several times from Salmon Bay to Seattle himself, Delsin is well aware of the timeframe between the two places.

After 30 minutes of waiting and playing on his phone Delsin decides to finally dispose of his trash and leave the cafe to walk around the area. Unsurprisingly, it starts to drizzle a little but it doesn’t bother him, especially since it ends after about 3 minutes. He finds himself strolling into an empty park and decides to occupy an unoccupied swing and lazily swing himself back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly, although not surprisingly, your image pops into his head and he smiles.

(Y/N).

His best friend.

His partner in crime.

His potential girlfriend?

Today he plans on confessing his real and accidentally repressed feelings towards you and man is he nervous. Which, doesn’t actually happen too often. But in this case why wouldn’t he be nervous? It’s you. Although you two have only known each other for a few months, a little past half a year to be fair, he’s truly never felt the way he does for you for anyone else. It’s different. Honestly, it terrifies him how much he’s grown to care for you and he feels stupid for having tried to repress it, thinking it’d just simply go away. Because of his ignorance you both ended up getting arrested. He feels incredibly grateful that neither of you got into any serious trouble but in a way he’s also appreciative for the experience. Maybe not the handcuff part, not under those circumstances anyways, but in a way the whole thing was a rude awakening for him in regards to many things. For one, his feelings for you, and for another, regardless of the outcomes he has to tell you. Although, he does hope the outcomes aren’t permanently perilous….

A sudden ring and vibration emits from his back pocket, effectively breaking his train of thought. He retrieves his phone, reads your contact name and immediately smiles as answers it, ”Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey, handsome,” you reply and his smirk expands.“Listen I just wanted to let you know that I’m like 10 maybe 5 minutes away. It’s not super sunny out but way less cloudy than usual so it’s a miracle these streets aren’t that busy. You wanna hang out by the bay for a bit after you show me whatever it is you’re gonna show me?”

“Uhh, duh,” you laugh at his response. “I’m surprised you felt the need to ask.”

“You’re right, what was I thinking?” you laugh, “but great, I’ll see you in a few,”

“Okay,” he hangs up, hops off the swing and proceeds to walk back to the Latte Owl.

As he nears the cafe he sees you make your way towards him from across the street and the two of you finally meet at the entrance.

“Hey,” he starts.

“Hi,” you smile.

“So what I have to show you is actually like 5 minutes away from here, but do you want anything before we go?” he asks.

“Um- nah I’m fine. Before I left for the Bay I took a big jug of coffee with me so I’m good. Do you want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good too. Shall we be off?” he makes a gesture to the pavement ahead.

"Actually before we go anywhere I just wanna say a few things,” you start.

Delsin nods and looks at you intently waiting for you to begin.

You fidget with your hands as you think about what to say before coming to a conclusion and looking up at him, “Okay first, I’m sorry. For like, everything. I'm sorry for shutting you out from my parents and not giving you a chance to show them how much of amazing and free spirited person you are. I’m sorry for making you feel like I was ashamed of our friendship because I'm not nor would I ever be. If anything I’m proud to be your best friend and super grateful to have gotten the chance to get to know you and I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, (Name),” he takes a few steps closer to you. “And you don’t need to keep apologizing, really it’s all okay. We’re here now, together… and now it’s my turn. Yesterday you were just trying to get us to talk and settle things out but I was doing everything in my power to prevent that. It was stupid and for that I'm sorry,” he takes a pause, “The truth is I've been hiding something from you... and from myself," he reaches to grab your hands and continues to look at you. "And today I'd like to show you what it is."

Touched by his apology, you smile and lightly squeeze his hand. Your eyes hold a certain glint that makes Delsin jump out of his reverie in realization to something.

“Oh, crap. Just remembered… what I have to show you works best as a surprise so you would you mind covering your eyes?”

“Sure,” you shrug and place your hands over your eyes.

“Sorry if it feels like a really poorly orchestrated Febreze commercial,” he says and you laugh. “I was rushing this morning and forgot to bring a blindfold.”

“No big deal,” you smile. “But your my eyes now so lead the way.”

Considering how you’re very prone to tripping over air, Delsin figures it’d be best hold you by your elbows to lead the way. Part of you fears tripping into oncoming traffic but luckily you know you have a good navigator for a pair of temporary eyes and that he’d never purposely lead you to danger. As the both of you walk, you and Delsin continue to have casual talk, much like how things used to be before.

After about 7 minutes of walking, Delsin brings you to a stop. He doesn’t instruct you to do anything yet, rather he stays quiet for a few seconds.

Suddenly you feel Delsin rest his hands on top of yours, gently removing your own from your eyes, “Surprise...”

You open your eyes and are in an actual state in shock and …. Confusion. Before you is the painting you and Delsin were working on the day you got arrested. Because of the incident you didn’t exactly have time or a chance to complete it. For some time you were a upset about it but quickly your concern moved to Delsin and where your friendship stood.

From behind you you hear some shuffling and when you turn you see Delsin offer you a spray can. With confusion on your face, again, you speak up, “Um did you forget what happened, like, yesterday?”

He smirks, no surprise there, “I’m pretty familiar with happened yesterday. I know that, metaphorically speaking, we almost got our heads chopped off for this but the real punishment would be to leave this piece undone without anyone knowing the artist’s amazing and immense potential. Yours. As a really talented artist myself, I knew you’d want the honor in finishing the tag yourself… or at least I really assumed so…..So whaddya say? One more go for old times sake?”

“Wow,” you dramatically sigh, “criminal mastermind and he has a way words.”

“You forgot handsome, boisterous, stud--”

“Egotistical, vain… but sweet and caring,” you smile at him as he smiles back.

His eyes light up as he sees you reaching for the can he holds and together you two go to work.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Since the job wasn’t far from completion when you were arrested, it doesn’t take too long to finish the tag and luckily there was not a cop in sight to catch you two. You step back to admire your work and smile. You then look to your left at Delsin who seems to have already been looking at you with a smile on his face.

“Thanks for this,” you start. “You know, any moment now this could turn into a really stupid mistake but I honestly have no regrets and I’m glad for your help in finishing this.”

“Anything and anytime for you. You know I do have quite a large amount of experience in making stupid mistakes but sometimes they end up being really good ones….” he slowly reaches for your hand and you look back to him as you entangle your hands with his.

He turns his body to fully face yours and you promptly follow his actions. You each take a step closer to each other and he begins to slowly lower his face until it closely hovers above yours. You sense his hesitancy and go on your tippy-toes, connecting your lips with his. Your lips move together in sink as his hands travel to your lower back and yours explore his neck and hair. You both break apart after a moment for air but you don’t miss the huge smile on his face.

“You know what this reminds me of?” he asks.

“Considering how this is the first time we’ve done that I can’t say I do,” you lightly laugh.

“That day at the bay,” he starts, “when you caught me doing a tag. It’s when we first met…. ‘Course Reggie tried to arrest us but still, one of the best mistakes I’ve ever made considering it lead us to this moment,” he tightens his hold around your back and lowers his head again.

“Agreed Rowe,” you smile as you lean up to complete the kiss.

YAAAAAAAYYYY Y'ALL FINALLY DID IT. TOOK FOREVER BUT YOU GUYS FINALLY DID IT. First, I really wanna apologize for the REALLY late and long overdue update. Life just really came at me, man. But still, that doesn't feel like a really good excuse but I'm soooo glad to have finally completed this. I was planning on making a second part which takes place when Delsin gets his powers but I'm really not sure about that anymore, mostly just considering how long it took me to finish this part. Also, what's really funny is that I completely changed the ending for this chapter at the last minute. Originally I was gonna have Delsin surprise the reader by completing the tag for her but then I realized that I'm not sure artists would really be okay with that because it's their work and stuff, even though D's just trying to help and junk I'm not sure it would've been totally okay. Idk maybe I overthought it but I'm still pretty happy with how this turned out and I really hope you guys enjoyed it! I also want to thank all of those who have continued to follow this story and read and comment, like, it really means a lot to me <33333 I guess that's all I have to say for now, it's a wrap guys! Thank you and I hope you liked the story :)

[jennifersylvesters]

give a little - part one

Pairing: Chris Evans / Sebastian Stan x fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k~ Warning: swearing A/N: this is my contribution to @suncityparker and @petalparker’s writing challenge. i chose the au / prompt fake dating. hope you enjoy! as always, feedback is always appreciated!

When you signed the lease for your apartment at Woodridge Oaks, it was only natural for you to be excited. After all, this was your first taste of independence. Finally you had a place to yourself, free of any family or roommates. There was no stress, no rushing in the morning worried that the bathroom would be occupied. You weren’t expecting much from a one bedroom apartment but just a nice relaxing home. After all, what could happen on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks?

Occasionally a loud party bustled throughout the complex, but it ended during reasonable hours and only happened on the weekends. They were tolerable, just like the tenants who resided in the building. You got along just fine with the neighbors, not particularly concerned about any of them.

To the right of your apartment was your neighbor, Chris. You met him while moving in, lugging heavy miscellaneous boxes up to your place. He graciously offered to help which you gladly accepted. You hadn’t seen him much after that day, only greeting one another occasionally in the halls.The two of you sometimes briefly chatted in the laundry room while waiting for your loads, but it was nothing but mere small talk.

And although the number of women who visited his place seemed excessive, you didn’t particularly mind. It amused you to see the girls creeping quietly out of his place, passing you with a mix of shame and embarrassment all while refusing to make eye contact. As long as they weren’t loud, you had no qualms.That was his business.

However your neighbor, Sebastian, did not feel the same. Unfortunately Sebastian’s bedroom was right next to Chris’s, where he could hear him and his partners going at it in the middle of the night. While you weren’t technically friends with Sebastian - “commute buddies” seeing as your offices were only a block away from one another - you empathetically listened to his complaints.

Chris’s flings meant nothing to you, only serving as a trivial fact about the blond man next door. It caught you by surprise when a woman began frequently visiting his apartment. At first you found it sweet how he finally decided to commit. There was only one girl for Sebastian to complain about now.

Yet things seemed off. This visitor would show up at odd times of the day, skulking around the hallways constantly looking over her shoulder. Multiple times you witnessed her trying to yank his door open but to no avail. She left notes taped to his door, a lipstick kiss on the sheet with multiple hearts drawn.

All of these actions seemed peculiar, something you weren’t quite sure what to make of. You figured the least you could do was let Chris know. So one Sunday afternoon you knocked on his door waiting for him to answer. You heard rustling from the other side, locks sliding before a hand grabbed and yanked you inside.

“Oh, thank God it’s you” he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly locking the door. “Lucy’s been practically stalking me.”

“Who?”

He explained how he met Lucy at his job. He hadn’t thought much about his flirtation with her, only that she seemed like a sweet kid who ended up wanting more than a casual fling and got aggressive about her ambition to date him. There was absolutely no shame in his voice or face as he went into certain details about their sexual history, something that ended up flustering you instead.

You suggested he tell the landlord, figuring that he could easily ban her from the building. Chris shook his head, heaving out a sigh. “No, I can handle it. Plus it might mess up my business.” You weren’t sure what he did, but you politely nodded your head. “I just gotta ride out the crazy.”

“Thanks for telling me” he said, giving you a polite smile as he opened the door for you. Both of you jumped seeing Lucy standing at the doorway.

“Who are you? Who is this?” Lucy glared.

And in what Chris deemed a moment of brilliance, he blurted “This is my girlfriend, Y/N!”

Your jaw dropped at the notion, unsure of what in God’s name he was talking about. You barely spoke to him, and now he was deciding the two of you were dating?

Feeling a slight pinch on your arm, you yelped lightly. It took one look from the blond man to understand that he needed you to save him. His face said it all - “just go with it”. Still, he didn’t need to be that rough.

“Yes...I am dating...Chris” you slowly announced, trying to process the words as you said them. The idea of dating Chris seemed unfathomable. Sure, he was ridiculously attractive, but he wasn’t one for being tied down. Plus you didn’t even know his last name. Definitely couldn’t date someone without knowing their full name.

“How long? Why? When’d you meet?” Lucy didn’t have the right to ask either of you questions, but that didn’t stop her.

“Actually, we’ve known each other for a while” he nodded, explaining the situation. “We’ve always had chemistry, but we just didn’t wanna give in to it. I think I just wanted a sign to feel like all the stars were aligned. But a couple weeks ago we ran into each other at our favorite cafe, and we were talking about our favorite musicians. She was talking so passionately about her favorite band and that’s when I realized I couldn’t fight my feelings any longer. I just told her how much I liked her, and I’m just really blessed my baby felt the same way” he lied so easily even you thought it might be real.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. This was definitely new territory with your neighbor, and you weren’t too sure how to feel about it. Were you supposed to do the same?

So your arm hovered behind his back unsure of where to put your hand. Would putting it up near his shoulder blades be more friendly than a normal girlfriend would intend? But you also couldn’t just put it near his butt. That region was off limits. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he gritted “Just pick a spot.”

You eventually settled on the small of his back before grinning nervously at Lucy. Instantly you regretted this gesture as she shot you a murderous look.

“I, uh...I like him so much” you fumbled out. Apparently that wasn’t good enough. You received another pinch. Wincing at the pain, you deciding to rephrase your statement. “I mean, I love him. I’m just really...shy about admitting that stuff to strangers. Especially people I’ve never met.” That seemed to appease Chris.

Lucy eyed you, watching you do you best to pretend you were in love with a man you barely talked to. With one final glare, she huffed off.

As the sound of her heels disappeared, Chris dropped his arm from around you. Breathing a sigh of relief, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Whew! Thanks for that!”

Scrunching your face, you couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by the whole scenario. You rubbed at the spot that he pinched. “Sure. That was a bit strange though.”

Right as you were about to walk back to your apartment, he took your arm gently. “Hey. I know I don’t have the right, but I have a huge favor to ask” he started nervously, his other hand rubbing the nape of his neck. That’s when he asked if you would be his fake girlfriend, at least until he was sure Lucy would leave him alone for good.

You pointed out how insane Lucy seemed, afraid that she might come after you. There was something in her eyes from the brief contact that worried you greatly. But Chris promised he would take care of her as long as you did this favor for him.

All signs told you not to do this. It was crazy. Lucy was crazy. Chris was crazy for thinking this was a good idea. But you were weak when he repeatedly pleaded for you to help him out. His eyes looked desperate and when he actually got on his knees, clutching his hands together, you knew you couldn’t say no.

“Fine” you gave in, wishing you weren’t that weak to handsome men. “Also, what’s your last name?”

A couple days later you strolled through the grocery store, making your way through the sections as you focused on the information on your phone. Turns out that dating Chris wasn’t just a simple announcement and an occasional hug and kiss; it was actual work.

True to Chris’s initial belief, Lucy had no intention of giving up without a fight. Her visits became even more constant, asking Chris’s location or why the two of you weren’t together at that very second. You would fib, making any excuses to get away from the horrid girl. She rattled of questions to you about your “boyfriend”, expecting you to know the most obscure details about the man.

While her incessant hounding bothered you, she was right to question this relationship seeing as you practically knew nothing about him. The only certain fact you knew was that he owned a lovely dog named Dodger. Everything else about Chris was up in the air.

Lucy wasn’t buying into the sham, and both of you could tell. So he began sending facts about himself, typical details one would know about Chris if you were actually dating. Nothing more enthralling than remembering someone’s dietary restrictions and food dislikes for a fake relationship.

While you sent some of your own facts, you never bothered making any of them too personal. Learning about him was more for his benefit rather than yours. He didn’t need to know your allergies or music preferences because his stalker wouldn’t care.

As you muttered how Chris was originally from Boston, you looked up from your phone to see a familiar face. Oh, no. It was your ex-boyfriend, Jake. Your face immediately paled at the sight of him.

He looked good in that button down you always loved, hair gelled back as he browsed through the produce section. Why, oh why, was today the day where you decided to look completely disheveled?

He hadn’t noticed you so you sucked in your breath as you attempted to turn around. Your plan was foiled as your cart screeched, the back tire grinding down and refusing to cooperate. Jake looked up towards your direction, recognizing you immediately. As he called out your name, you internally groaned biting down on your lip.

“Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!” he greeted you. He surveyed your messy hair and unflattering sweats. From the look on his face, you could tell he felt that he dodged a bullet with you. You wanted nothing more than to flip him off and curse him out for that expression alone.

Despite your current state, you were doing fine. You didn’t need a man, especially one like him. This, of course, was something he would never believe even if you told him.

You wanted Jake to understand that you never needed him, that you were capable of bigger and better things. He was simply the pit stop on the side of the road. Yet to him he was the final destination you never got the opportunity to enjoy.

You could feel the resentment boiling in your body, wishing you could do something - anything - to make him see otherwise. And that’s when you spotted Sebastian.

Well, he actually spotted you. “Oh hey” he approached you, giving you a polite nod.

Something inside you snapped at that moment. That pitying look from Jake made you want to lash out, prove him wrong for all those times he made you feel inferior. You never got to do it during your relationship or your break up. Apparently now was the perfect opportunity, even if that meant absolutely losing your mind.

“Baby, where have you been?” you cooed, taking Sebastian by the arm and pulling him close to you. You rubbed his bicep, leaning in closer. Sebastian quizzically eyed you, unsure of the current situation.

“Uh, like in general or-?” he started before you realized he might ruin your plan.

“Aw, I’m glad you got my favorite chips! You’re so sweet!” you exclaimed upon seeing him holding a bag of Doritos in his hand.

Jake pressed his lips together. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting someone like Sebastian to show up. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him. “You’re not even going to introduce me, Y/N?” He forced a chuckle causing Sebastian to raise an eyebrow.

It was only natural for him to feel intimidated by Sebastian. With his tall stature and good looks, he seemed like a step up from Jake. You couldn’t help but relish that the tables were turned.

“This is my boyfriend” you beamed, leaning in closer to Sebastian. This announcement shocked him as his eyes widened and his body stiffened. Yet somehow Jake didn’t seem to notice. Thank God.

You squeezed his arm, hoping he would understand to go along with the charade. Fortunately he got the signal and kept quiet.

“Oh, really? I didn’t realize you got a new boyfriend” Jake replied, irritation laced in his voice.

“Yup. He’s my boyfriend.” You tilted your head into Seb’s chest, acting as if it were only natural. “This is Chris.” Shit.

You hadn’t meant to say the wrong name. You heard the words slip out so carelessly and you almost winced. Almost. No, you couldn’t make a move. You needed to pretend you hadn’t messed up, that you hadn’t called Sebastian by his least favorite neighbor’s name.

Seb sucked in his breath, eyes widening at your name choice. He stared at you; it was almost as if he wasn’t sure you actually knew his name. You squeezed his arm once more, almost as if a lifeline to just keep quiet.

“Babe, this is Jake.” You extended out your arm, gesturing to him. “This is my, erm, ex-boyfriend.” Suddenly things began to make sense for him.

You knew Sebastian decently enough to know that he wasn’t one for lying. In fact, he always stuck to his guns about the rights and wrongs. It sometimes felt like he stood on his own pedestal, refusing to come down among the regular beings who made mistakes.

He had a choice to make: expose you or play along. The obvious choice would be to tell the truth, point out how the two of you were just neighbors and that his name wasn’t Chris.

But the pleading look in your eyes stopped him from doing so. He looked at your arms, still intertwined tightly to his arm. And with his free hand, he gently gave your arm a couple loving taps.

“Yes...I am...Chris” he eventually spoke, wishing you chose his actual name for this ruse.

Your arms relaxed slightly and you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You knew you owed him big time, but that was to be discussed after.

As soon as it was clear he was willing to play along, things got increasingly easier. You told Jake about how you and Sebastian met, how you hadn’t meant to fall in love with one of your neighbors, but the two of you couldn’t fight the magnetic connection. Sebastian just stiffly nodded along, unsure of what to contribute to the conversation. You did most of the work; all he needed to do was stand there and look pretty.

So you continued faking pleasantries, taking Sebastian’s hands in yours. Your palms sweated, nervous about the piling lies as well as how Sebastian would later react. Clearly he could sense your discomfort but that this charade was something to prove. Letting go of your hand and pulling away for a brief moment, he adjusted so that you were in front of him and wrapped his arm around you.

Your heart beat quickly as you felt Sebastian rest his head on your shoulder. From Jake’s frown, you knew you owed him big time.

What you didn’t expect was Jake to ask the two of you to get coffee with him. Who in their right mind would ask their ex-girlfriend and her current beau out for a drink? Apparently Jake would. “I just think that it would be nice to catch up with you. And seeing as how Chris can’t keep his hands off you, I don’t mind if he wants to tag along.”

You wanted nothing more than to roll your eyes at the invite. There was no way you planned on spending more time with your ex, especially with this “Chris”. Except you and your neighbor were not on the same wavelength.

“That’d be great!” Sebastian agreed as the two men exchanged phone numbers. You could feel yourself mentally screaming, wishing that you could reverse time before Sebastian accepted that offer. If only.

As your ex-boyfriend walked off, you pulled out of Sebastian’s grasp and swiveled around to face him. “What are you doing?” you hissed, now looking at a confused Sebastian.

“I thought I was helping you with your ex-boyfriend.”

“I mean, yeah. Thank you for that. But you didn’t have to accept the offer!”

“I thought you wanted me to?”

“I would rather shoot myself in the foot than hang out with Jake again” you snarled, the memories of your ex-boyfriend flooding up. One look at Sebastian, and you realized your hostile tone was directed at the wrong person.  “Sorry, it’s not you” you apologized. “It’s just that Jake and I didn’t end on a good note.” He nodded, not needing an explanation.

“I guess...We just have to get through Saturday?” He agreed, and the two of you began heading towards the front of the grocery store to pay.

As the two of you made your way back to the apartment, you discussed plans of how to handle things. You decided you would visit his place to help pick out a good coordinating outfit and go over anything important that might arise in conversation.

Hauling the bags of groceries to your shared floor, the two of you stumbled onto the scene of Lucy and Chris arguing at his entryway.

“There’s something wrong with her! I know it!” she insisted, arms crossed across her chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris spotted you. While this day had been nothing but poor timing, Chris eagerly welcomed the universe’s mistake. “You need to stop this right now, Lucy. You’re gonna upset my girlfriend!”

Sebastian turned around, expecting to see another woman in the hall. A perplexed expression crossed his face as he saw no one else, now confused by Chris’s words.

You, on the other hand, focused on the death glare being sent your way. What were you supposed to do? The woman looked like she’d rip you to shreds if you even attempted fighting her.

You opened your mouth, trying to form the right words. “I am...So upset…” Judging by Chris’s expression, this wasn’t going to get his stalker off his doorstep.

“No! I’m so angry!” you changed your phrasing, furrowing your brows. “How dare you?!” you yelled, gently placing your groceries on the ground before putting your hands on your hips. No way you were going to damage your eggs for this act. Please. But were you selling it enough? Chris rolled his eyes and gave a small nod, and you continued your awful performance.

“You need to get away from my man, please.” Another ‘ramp up the anger’ look from Chris. “No, you know what? No ‘please’. Get away from my man before I call the cops on you!” you snapped, pulling out your cell phone. You randomly tapped buttons on your phone before holding it up to your ear, pretending to wait for the police to pick up. Your bluff worried Lucy as she clenched her fists before letting out a loud scoff.

“I know something’s up” she hissed as she pushed past you and Sebastian. Once the apartment building door slammed shut, Chris grinned.

“That was pretty bad, but I liked that phone bit” he complimented as he gave you a couple of claps. You jokingly curtsied, pretending to enjoy the praise.  

“Wait, what’s going on?” Sebastian asked, still clueless to the what just occurred.  

“Oh, Chris has a stalker” you responded casually giving a shrug. Sebastian’s eyes widened before he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment.

“Y/N is pretending to be my girlfriend until Lucy gets the hint and leaves me alone.” Thankful for your help, Chris plucked up one of the bags from the ground to lighten your load.

Sebastian remained quiet, finding himself squatting to take in all the information. “Wait...Can you...What’s going on?” he questioned again. The two of you explained the predicament, giving him time to fully absorb the situation. He nodded at certain points, making it clear he was slowly beginning to digest all this information.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling slowly, eying you nervously before pressing his lips together. “Well, that’s gonna complicate things because I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” Chris nearly dropped the groceries, startled by his announcement.

“Fake boyfriend” he continued, and you remembered that this was true. “Because her ex thinks that I’m her boyfriend. He also thinks that my name is Chris.”

Things on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks were about to get interesting.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz, @supernatural-girl97

[startofamoment]

please come in and just sit here for a while ♥

Jake’s laughing so hard, Amy’s sure he’s going to wheeze himself into a poorly-timed asthma attack. The last thing they need right now is to have to call for backup while he fumbles with his inhaler.

“Alright, alright,” she grumbles, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “So a double date with a young Al Gore at the Louvre isn’t the most plausible. But you asked for my dream date– you didn’t specify it had to be realistic!”

He snorts, but she shoves him in the shoulder before he can devolve into another laughing fit.

“Aw, you gotta give yourself some credit, Santiago. A date like that could totally happen.” He pauses, amusement clear on his face. “Just remind me to tell your future boyfriend to invest in a time machine.”

He ducks before she can shove him again, and just like that he’s doubled over and full-on giggling once more.

“Like your dream date is any less ridiculous,” she huffs.

He swipes at his eyes and coughs, taking a moment to settle his breathing. “Oh, I’ll have you know my ideal date is plenty realistic but dare-I-say still very romantic? The Jake Peralta boyfriend experience is quite intoxicating, thank you very much.”

She raises an eyebrow but nods for him to go on. For sheer curiosity’s sake, if nothing else.

“I’m a simple guy. I don’t have to go to a fancy museum or whatnot to have a good time. All I need is a few fluffy blankets, chairs and stuff for structure, way too many pillows, maybe some of those fairy lights to set the mood… You following me here, Santiago? I’m talking me, my boo, and the most epic pillow fort you’ve ever seen. We’ll sneak a laptop computer into the fort and put Die Hard on, duh, and then it’ll be candy and cuddles from there on out.”

She hums, vaguely impressed but not at all ready to admit that that does sound like a respectable stay-at-home date idea. (She’s even further away from acknowledging that she maybe also thinks all of that with Jake specifically sounds more than ideal.) “Movie night in a pillow fort, huh? Never took you for someone into textbook rom com dates, Peralta.”

“Hey, I like cuddles and warm blankets! They make me feel safe,” he shrugs, then shifts to smirking and waggling his eyebrows at her. “Besides, a pillow fort is the perfect place for a good ol’ make out sesh. Seriously, by the end credits, my date and I would totally be–”

“Okay, I’m going to go ahead and stop you there before this gets wildly inappropriate. Still technically work hours, Romeo.”

He sends her another cheeky grin before raising his binoculars and redirecting his attention to the warehouse they’ve been monitoring. She refocuses as well, filing this new fact about her partner somewhere in the back of her head – to be compartmentalized and hopefully forgotten, along with her mental catalogues of Weirdly Cute Things Jake Has Done and Shirts Jake Has Worn That Make His Arms Look Good.

“Are your eyes covered?” She asks, glancing behind her to triple check before unlocking her apartment door. “No peeking until I say so, okay?”

Jake scoffs but keeps his hands over his eyes. “Ames, if this is your way of easing me into blindfolds and bondage, let me tell you–”

“Oh, hush. I told you, I just need to make sure everything’s ready.”

They step into her entryway, with Jake following closely behind her then staying put when she tells him to.

Amy makes quick work of depositing her bag and shoes in their designated places, hanging up her coat, and running to get the string of lights plugged in. (She’d made sure the whole setup was prepped even before going to bed the night before, but she’d intentionally left the fairy lights off lest she be schooled by fire marshal Boone of all people.)

She surveys her living room – or what used to be her living room and what now is an organized mess of sheets strewn over dining chairs and pillows lain on every available surface – one last time before taking a steadying breath and turning back to her boyfriend. “Okay, Jake, you can look now.”

He drops his hands to his sides, and Amy watches as his expression morphs from confusion to wonder.

“Oh my god. Is this– It’s– Holy shit, it’s a pillow fort!”

He sheds his jacket and toes his shoes off as fast as possible, tripping over his socked feet to scramble into the makeshift entrance, half-squealing and half-rambling like an excited child the whole way. Amy laughs, already starting to feel pleased with herself as she crawls in after him.

“Amy, this is amazing! Did you put all of this together on your own?” He’s beaming, eyes shining with unbridled joy. In the few seconds it’s taken her to settle in against a strategically-arranged pile of pillows, he’s managed to wrap himself up in one of the three fleece blankets she’d prepared for them to use. (She’s going to have to do so much laundry this weekend.)

“Mhm,” she nods, hoping she’s coming off cool when actually she’s buzzing with giddiness from the inside out. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” He falls back onto the thick floral comforter lining the floor beneath them, closing his eyes and making a satisfied hum before looking at her again. “Not to be weird, but you are making teenage Jake so happy right now. Like, I for realz would spend hours trying to imagine how my fort would look like and this– yeah, this is pretty darn close. The only thing it needs is–”

“Snacks? Check under that couch cushion.” She smiles, pointing to the spot beside his arm.

He sits back up then lifts the pillow in question, gasping loudly. “Gummy bears? Fruit Roll-Ups? One, two, three… seven types of chocolate, and even the Mexican candy from the bodega near the precinct? Amy, I–” His face shifts to something between bewilderment and awe, sending another surge of nerves through her. “I don’t know what to say… This is literally my dream date. How did you know?”

“Well, it’s... kind of a weird story. You’re going to laugh.” She stops, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ears while she searches for the right words to say. She’d known, logically, that it was much more likely he’d forgotten about their random conversation way back when, but a part of her had just hoped he’d remember so she wouldn’t have to explain herself like this.

“Come on, Ames. I promise I won’t laugh,” he says gently, nudging her leg with his foot. “I swear I really only want to know how you somehow read my mind. I mean, I know my school counselor said I should’ve kept daily diaries back then but I absolutely did not, so there’s no way you broke into one of those. Did I drunkenly blurt out my mushy teenage fantasies at Shaw’s the other week?”

She shakes her head, fiddling with the hem on the nearest pillowcase. “Not last week or at Shaw’s. I don’t expect you to remember this because it was at a stakeout a few years ago, but we’d talked about our ideal dates and you’d mentioned movie night in a pillow fort, so…” Her voice trails off as she digs underneath yet another blanket for her laptop and DVD copy of Die Hard.

She almost cringes when he doesn’t respond immediately, and it takes all her courage to get herself to look up from the loading screen.

He’s got that boyish grin on his face, of course. (It’s not fair that she still finds him ridiculously attractive, even when he’s obviously over the moon at her expense.)  

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” she says, pouting.

“I’m not! I’m just–” His grin widens into a smirk. “ So, so glad I finally have proof you’ve liked me for ages. Wow, Ames. You’ve been holding onto this piece of info for years, just waiting until you could finally put it to use, huh? That had to have been at least three years ago by now, right? Gosh, Amy, I had no idea–”

“Shut up and eat your candy,” she grumbles, throwing a packet of fruit leather his way.

He snickers but doesn’t say anything more as he tears into the plastic and bites into the chewy candy. The tips of her ears burn just the same, with her lack of an outright denial loud and clear in the air between them.

“It’s okay, babe,” he says brightly, laying a sticky kiss on her flushed cheek. (The brand new pet name isn’t lost on her at all, but she’ll unpack her feelings about that another time.) “I’ve most definitely liked you for way too long, so at least we’re even.”

[psychosistr]

FOWL Facets- Chapter 5

Summary: While their hostage is a bit more cooperative now, his mouth still lands him in trouble with Domino and Loony. At least the two of them can have a good laugh about it and fondly remember how they nearly gave the real Steelbeak the same treatment!

Notes: Time for some backstory that DOESN’T involve Liquidator xD

-First Chapter-

Their prisoner had apparently learned his lesson about mouthing off to the F.O.W.L. agents. He was more direct with his instructions and gave them less attitude in hopes they wouldn’t shock him again.

They still shocked him again. Repeatedly.

Domino, Loony, and Gandra got into a fairly easy routine when it came to dealing with the captive melanite: Loony would tie him up with one of her arms (or her leg at one point because she was bored and wanted to mix things up). Gandra would give him a mild jolt with her hand to re-stabilize his body and allow him to wake up. Domino would ask for their next heading. Then, at the end, Gandra would shock him again to destabilize him once more. They continued taking turns guarding him, just like before, keeping two people in the room at all times while the third gem went to the control room to make sure they were still on course.

By the time they’ve almost reached their destination, it’s Loony and Domino’s turn to guard him while Gandra steers the ship. The melanite told them that the next set of instructions were shorter, so they’d need him awake. To make things easier on all of them, Domino keeps a communication line open with Gandra to relay the directions while Loony keeps their prisoner firmly tied up.

“Just passed the three islands.” Gandra says through the speakers in Domino’s watch. “What’s next?”

Domino looks to their captive expectantly. “Give us the next direction…and it had better be the last one.”

“Relax, bright eyes.” The melanite rolls his eyes a little, but keeps his tone from getting too snarky. “Hang a left and head west- you’ll know when you’re in the right place.”

“For your sake, you had better hope we find it sooner rather than later.” Domino gives their prisoner a warning glare before relaying the information to Gandra. “Turn left and head west. Keep an eye out for anything that looks remotely suspicious in the water.” After hearing the star-sapphire’s confirmation, he returns his attention to the rooster. “Did your ‘acquaintance’ leave you with any instructions for the exchange?”

“Just two.” The melanite meets the loon’s red-eyed gaze unflinchingly, despite knowing that the threat of shattering him at any moment was still a very real possibility. “First: You gotta bring me out in one piece.”

“Only one piece? That’s doable.” Domino smirks when he sees the brief look of nervousness cross the melanite’s dark eyes before being covered up.

“Second: He mostly just wants t’ talk to YOU.” The melanite manages to keep his voice calm and level, even with the snowflake obsidian’s expression promising pain in his very near future. “Ya gotta leave the star-sapphire on the ship, but he said you can take your spine-” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as he’s suddenly struck across the face in one direction by a white-barrier-gloved fist, and then immediately struck back the other way by a gray-gloved fist from his other side. “?!”

He’s about to ask what he did to deserve such harsh treatment, when the gray-gloved hand stretches around and grabs him by the back of his head. He’s forced to face Loony’s decidedly UNhappy face directly in front of his own. “I’m not ANYONE’S spinel, thank-you-very-much!” The arm binding the melanite begins to constrict and coil around his body even tighter, squeezing it like a boa constrictor. “I’m my own gem. Nobody gets to own me.” She continues squeezing the wide-eyed melanite’s body until it disappears with a poof, leaving his gemstone behind on the seat. Looking at the stone, her earlier anger fades away and she gives Domino an apologetic frown. “Whoopsie-doodles. Sorry, Dommy- I got a little carried away…”

“It’s fine, Loony.” He holds his hand out above the black stone and a white translucent bubble appears around it, allowing him to pick up the gem while keeping it contained. “I was about to shoot him, anyway.”

“Oh, goodie!” The other loon’s words are enough to restore the spinel’s cheer, making her giggle. “Hey, remember the first time Steely called me that and you nearly shot HIM for it?”

“Vividly.” He answers with a quiet chuckle. After all, how could he forget the first time he met the loud-mouthed melanite and everything they went through over the course of their first few missions?

It had taken Domino and Loony a week to reach the rendezvous point. They’d had to “borrow” a ship, fly through three asteroid belts and the debris of a broken planet, and been forced to walk for two days after crashing their ship too far from the appointed coordinates. All of this just to make sure they arrived promptly to meet Domino’s new partner.

The least the clod could do was show up on time.

With a glare that was becoming more irritated by the second, Domino pulled back his sleeve and checked his watch for what must have been the twentieth time since they’d arrived.

EIGHT HOURS. Domino and Loony had been waiting EIGHT HOURS for his new partner to show up.

To be fair, to most gems eight hours was a pretty insignificant amount of time. However, with the day (day/week/month/year/CENTURY) that Domino had been having, he was hardly in the mood to be kept waiting. What made matters worse was the fact that he had nothing to distract himself from the passage of time, so all he had to do was check his watch and look up at the sky. Loony had at least found her own entertainment in chasing around the small, colorful organic creatures that popped up from holes in the ground nearby, but that was hardly the sort of thing Domino could find enjoyment in. Seriously, he didn’t even have any data pads to read or a communicator to call F.O.W.L. for a status update on his new partner’s whereabouts, or ask what kind of gem it was, or-

He noticed something shiny break through the clouds, descending rapidly towards their location like a shooting star. He nearly mistook the object for one, too, until it slowed down enough to let him see the pronounced but rounded point on the front and the sharp, angular protrusions on the back were all actually just part of a gleaming golden ship that managed to shine and sparkle even in the low light of the planet with nothing but the stars and two moons available for illumination.

The flashy (and honestly a bit gaudy) ship landed less than ten feet away from them, causing a strong rush of air that nearly blew Domino’s hat off of his head. Keeping one hand on his hat to save himself the hassle of retrieving it later and the other in front of his eyes to shield them from the wind, Domino squinted at the mass of gold as it landed on the ground.

The air settled after a few seconds and a hatch on the side opened up a minute later. A tall silhouette stood in the lit opening, the lights making it hard to get a good look at what kind of gem it was. “Hey, you’re with F.O.W.L., right?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” The loon squinted up at the figure, trying to discern any details about the new comer.

“Oh, a wise guy, huh?” The person on the ship asked sarcastically. “Come on, snowflake, we got work t’ do.”

Domino scowled at the nickname. He’d been called so many names because of his gemstone- people loved to joke about how fragile obsidians were- and, while he’d gotten used to it and proved the hecklers wrong many times (usually by shooting one of them in the face) he still didn’t enjoy the teasing. Whoever this gem was, he was making a horrible first impression-

“What-?!” Domino was startled by a black, diamond shaped platform suddenly appearing under his feet and lifting him up towards the ship’s entrance. He barely managed to keep his balance, his look of surprise turning into an offended glare when he was brought up eye-level with the ship’s owner. “……”

Finally getting a good look at the other gem, Domino took in his new partner’s appearance properly: A black ball-cut melanite that looked like a rooster in a tailored suit with a large red comb, green tail feathers, and a metallic beak.

Oh, great- a GARNET. Every garnet that he’d been forced to interact with in the past had been stuck-up, spoiled, upper-crust elites that looked down on “lower-class” gems as if they were all mere pebbles by comparison. They pretty much always had a superiority complex and treated gems like Domino and Loony as if they were either cannon fodder or servants. Domino was already mentally cringing at the thought of having to work with the other gem.

“Quit with the starin’, red eyes.” The melanite told him with a roll of his own dark eyes as the platform roughly deposited Domino in the ship. “I already told ya, we got work t’ do and we’re runnin’ behind, so move it.”

“My name is Domino.” He continued to glare at the obnoxious garnet. “And maybe if YOU weren’t EIGHT HOURS LATE, we wouldn’t have to rush.”

The rooster wasn’t even remotely bothered by the loon’s hateful look. He merely rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m SO sorry, I must’ve lost a few hours goin’ across the galaxy line.” That was possibly the most sarcastic, least apologetic apology that Domino had heard in his entire life. “Now, if you’re done snappin’, short fuse, we gotta go.” He pushed a button by the hatch and the door started to close.

“Wait.” Domino raised his hand, making a white barrier shaped like a rectangle appear and block the door’s movement. Before the melanite could ask him what he was doing, he cupped a hand by his beak to help with the volume of his voice. “Loony! Time to go!”

“Comin’, Dommy!” The spinel called back before her hands suddenly stretched up to the doorway and she pulled herself inside, Domino allowing the door to close once she was fully in the ship. She saw the melanite and gave him a bright, excited smile as she took one of his hands into both of her own, shaking it vigorously. “Hiya! My name’s Loony Toony, but my friends call me Loony! What’s your name?”

“..Steelbeak…” The taller gem answered after a moment of confusion, staring at the stretchy, smiling gem. “Didn’t know there’d be two of ya…”

“We’re a packaged deal.” Domino explained to the confused rooster. “Where I go, Loony goes.”

“Oh..” Steelbeak finally managed to free his hand from the prolonged and overly enthusiastic handshake, taking a moment to flex his fingers. “High command didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout it, but I can deal with it. So, she your servant or-?” He ducked, barely avoiding a gunshot aimed right at his face. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!” He glared at the snowflake obsidian and the pistol in his hand. A gray-gloved hand punched him in the back of his head before he got an answer. “Yeow!” He rubbed at the sore spot, shifting his glare over to the spinel this time.

“That’s rude!” Loony told him, putting her hands on her hips while she was stretched up to be slightly taller than him. “I’m Dommy’s FRIEND, not his servant!”

Steelbeak was about to say something else, but a white barrier forming a small bubble around his beak stopped him. “Let’s set a few things straight, right here, right now.” Domino grabbed the melanite by his bowtie using a white barrier-gloved hand and roughly yanked him down so that he could look him in the eyes properly and more easily press his gun to the side of the rooster’s head. “Loony is her own gem. She doesn’t take orders from me, and she certainly won’t be taking any orders from you. And that goes for me, as well: I am here on High Command’s orders as your PARTNER. I’m not some disposable amethyst for you to throw to the front lines and sacrifice. I’m not a pearl you get to boss around. If you even try talking down to me or Loony, you will disappear before you have time to blink. Are we clear?” The barrier dissolved with a snap of his fingers, his gun disappearing momentarily to allow the action.

“Wow, touch-y.” Steelbeak’s sarcastic tone was back the moment his beak was free. “Can’t a gem ask a question without gettin’ his head blown off?” He stood back to his full height, fixing his bowtie once the shorter gem let it go. “If you’re done bein’ all sensitive and offended over everythin’, we gotta go.” He began to walk off, presumably towards the cockpit, not sparing them a glance as he spoke. “And for the record, snowflake, I don’t really care what the deal with you and stretch is- I was just askin’ ‘cause I felt like it.”

Domino understood in that moment that working with Steelbeak was going to be one of the most mentally frustrating and exhausting things he would ever do in his life- a fact that the rude melanite would go on to prove time and time again as they spent the next few decades together on a series of missions assigned to them by High Command.

To the rooster’s credit, though, he was very strong and extremely competent in the field. The two of them made a surprisingly good team in battle with Steelbeak using his ability to quickly lift and maneuver them to better vantage points while Domino’s barriers protected them from enemy fire, leaving them both free to gun down the enemy from a secured and steady location. He was still generally rude and unpleasant to be around, but Domino managed to ignore that part about him as long as he could avoid being around him anymore than what was necessary for work.

Unfortunately, the fact that they often took Steelbeak’s ship on missions meant that certain interactions were unavoidable. One particular case-in-point happened a little less than a year into their partnership when the “Lucky Star” (which he still felt was a pretentious name for a spaceship) suffered some damage after a narrow escape on their last mission. While they’d managed to shake off their pursuers fairly easily thanks to the melanite’s piloting skills (yet another thing he had to give the taller man credit for- his flying maneuvers and intuition behind the controls were both top-notch), the damage to the power crystals meant that they had to stop off on a moon a few billion lightyears from homeworld for much needed repairs.

This led to Steelbeak lying on his back with the upper half of his body under the ship’s power converters. “Uggh, would ya look at this mess?” He complained, though it was mostly to himself. “The stabilizer’s trashed…gonna need a new one..” He ripped something out of the machinery and slid out from underneath the large converter. Looking around to the only other two gems on the ship, his eyes landed on Loony. “Hey, doll,” He tossed the metallic object he’d pulled out of the machinery towards the spinel. “Grab me another one o’ those from the supply closet- top shelf, on the right.”

Loony caught the object with ease, but she gave Steelbeak a confused look over the nickname. “My name’s not ‘doll’- it’s Loony, remember?”

“And we’ve been over this before-” Domino said while looking down on the melanite with a warning glare. “-she is not a servant. You’re not allowed to give her orders.”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes, the snowflake obsidian’s glares working about as well as they usually did on him (which was not at all). “Not this again…” He didn’t bother getting up from his spot on the floor, but he did counter the glare with one of his own. “Look, short fuse, I know ya got hang ups over your whole ‘we don’t take orders from you’ shtick, but you’re forgettin’ one thing: This is MY ship-” He gestured around them with one hand to the ship as a whole. “-and I ain’t a friggin’ chauffeur! You two wanna keep gettin’ free rides outta me, then ya gotta pull your weight around here.” He held up one finger when he saw the darker bird’s beak begin to open, already predicting what his protest would be. “And before ya say anythin’, it ain’t got nothin’ t’ do with ‘rank’ or ‘class’, or whatever ‘cause I DON’T CARE ‘BOUT THAT JUNK. I’d be tellin’ ya the same thing if you were sapphires or garnets- shoot, I’d even tell White Diamond t’ get off her lazy butt and do some work for a change if she was here!” He got back down under the power converter, waving his right hand in the general direction of the tool box located right next to Domino. “Now, ya can either spend a few years tryin’ t’ hitch a ride back t’ homeworld on a comet, or take five seconds t’ hand me a 155 micro-inch laser cutter so we can get there in a few days- your call, red eyes.”

Domino seriously contemplated shooting him in that moment (not that it was the first time he’d considered doing so), but he had to, reluctantly, admit that the loud-mouthed melanite had a decent point.

“Fine.” The requested tool (though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the right one or not) was tossed so that it landed on Steelbeak’s stomach rather than placed neatly in his outstretched hand. “Though it wouldn’t kill you to say ‘please’ once in a while.”

Even with his face hidden under the machinery, Domino could practically HEAR the smirk in the other gem’s voice as he grabbed the laser cutter. “I dunno, snowflake- it might.” The nickname earned him another glare that likely would have had the same effect even if it was actually seen by the other gem.

“It’s Domino.” He stated for what had to have been at least the hundredth time, as he always did when that nickname came up.

Once they actually got back to homeworld and started interacting with other gems again, Domino learned that Steelbeak’s words held quite a bit of truth to them. He really didn’t care about a gem’s rank or purpose. From the lower class warrior rubies and quartz soldiers, to the servant-grade pearls and peridots, all the way up the chain to the commanding elite emeralds and his fellow garnets, he ultimately treated all of them the exact same way. Granted, the way he treated everyone was RUDE (High Command being the only obvious exception to his attitude), but it was at least a little reassuring for Domino to know that the melanite really didn’t view him or Loony any lower than he did any other gems in the universe.

While that fact helped ease his tension a little bit, there was still one thing that continued to rub him the wrong way- something that became increasingly harder to ignore until it finally reached a boiling point.

They had been sent out on another mission to a far off planet. It was a standard “wipe out the inhabitants and claim the planet as a base for F.O.W.L.” assignment. Everything had been going well until one of the creatures had revealed his race’s ultimate, last-resort weapon- a series of explosives buried deep within the planet. The bombs had gone off before they had time to get away. The pair ended up falling into a crevice that quickly filled over with rocks and debris, unintentionally leaving Loony up top before she could stretch down to reach them.

Reflexes guiding both of them, Steelbeak summoned one of his black diamond shaped panels below them to slow their descent into the bowels of the planet while Domino formed a white dome-shaped barrier above them to keep the quickly growing pile of rubble from crushing them. Their combined efforts worked in keeping them in place and alive, but it also left them stuck in place, forcing them to either wait and see if an opening presented itself or if someone was able to dig them out since the rubble above was too heavy to be pushed back up out of the hole and there were no tunnels visible nearby to offer them a way out.

“Well, ain’t that just SWELL.” Steelbeak said sarcastically while waving his hands in indication of their surroundings.

“You just HAD to take your time tormenting those last few survivors, didn’t you?” Domino’s voice was equally sarcastic, though his tone was laced with more annoyance than his partner’s.

“Oh, gimme a break...” Steelbeak rolled his eyes, leaning back against the white barrier behind him with his arms crossed. “How was I supposed t’ know they rigged this rock with a buncha crazy suicide bombs? I mean, who DOES that, am I right, snowflake?”

That was it. That was the last straw.

The rooster let out a startled yelp when he was suddenly grabbed by his collar and yanked down harshly to be eye-level with a pair of VERY angry red eyes. “My..name..is..DOMINO!” He snapped at the taller gem, years of pent up frustration finally surfacing. “Not red eyes, or short fuse, or stripes, or wise guy- and definitely not snowflake!” He tossed the larger gem to the ground (well, to the black panel below them) with ease, allowing him to look down on the melanite properly. “It���s been 100 years now and I’ve told you thousands of times! ‘Dom-i-no’, it’s not that hard to remember! Honestly, at this point it’s almost like you’re doing it on-!” He stopped, blinking twice as the anger in his eyes suddenly changed to realization. Oh stars. It all made sense now. “You are doing it on purpose..” He said slowly, crouching down so he was next to the other gem as he began to sit up. “You’re actually trying not to remember my name.”

“……” Steelbeak didn’t say anything to the accusation at first, but the way he avoided eye contact with the shorter gem was answer enough. “Not much point rememberin’ your name if you ain’t gonna stay.”

Now there was a statement that certainly got Domino’s attention. “Why wouldn’t I stay?” He shifted from his crouching position so that he was now sitting in front of the melanite. It wasn’t like they had anything else to do while they were waiting for a way out- he might as well get comfortable.

“I don’t do well with ‘partners’. I’m more of a solo-act, ya know?” Steelbeak shrugged with a heavy sigh, sounding like he’d had this conversation before a hundred times (maybe he had). “But every few hundred years, High Command insists on stickin’ me with some new gem, sayin’ ‘try and make this one work’, but it never does. They either do somethin’ stupid and go gettin’ themselves broke, get on my nerves enough that I throw ‘em out the airlock, or I get on their nerves enough that they transfer somewhere else first chance they get.”

Domino cocked a brow, his curiosity piqued. “How many partners have you had?” The thought of going through enough partners that you’d become used to essentially working solo was foreign to Domino. As an obsidian, he was originally intended to be part of the general labor force and work in large groups of his own kind. Then, as a F.O.W.L. agent, he’d only ever had one partner before, and they’d been together for nearly ten thousand years- not to mention the seven thousand years he’d had Loony around.

“I dunno…five…six hundred, somethin’ like that..” He answered so casually despite the loon staring at him in pure shock. Five or six hundred? How was that even possible?! “They all go away eventually, so learnin’ their names just wastes time. It’s like….” Steelbeak drummed his fingers on the panel below him, trying to find the right words. “Ya ever had a pet?”

Domino almost said no, as he himself had never actually “owned” one. But, after giving the question some thought, he supposed that assisting in the day-to-day caretaking of the various small creatures that both Loony and his previous partner brought home with them over the years somewhat counted. “Kind of.”

That seemed to be enough for Steelbeak to continue with his analogy. “Well, if ya got an animal livin’ with ya, at first it’s just some stupid little thing runnin’ around your place needin’ ya t’ do stuff t’ keep it alive. Then, suddenly, ya go an’ give it a name and everything changes- it ain’t just some random animal no more, it actually means somethin’ to ya. Ya get attached to it.” He began to look frustrated the more he spoke, moving his hands in a way that Domino had begun to realize was somewhat of a nervous tic for the larger bird. “Then BOOM! Next thing ya know it runs away or gets itself killed or tells ya you’re nothin’ but a worthless bucket of slurry and no one’s ever gonna like you anyway, so why bother-?!” He caught himself, realizing that he’d gotten out of the simile somewhere, so he lowered his hands back down to his lap and tried to cover his slip with one of his usual sneers. “So…yeah..it’s easier if ya just don’t bother namin’ ‘em…that way you don’t go gettin’ attached…it just make sense…”

Domino…really didn’t know what to say to that for a while. While he didn’t like that he was essentially the pet in that comparison, he could understand where the other gem’s attitude stemmed from a little better now. The idea of going through that many partners in a relatively short amount of time was still hard to imagine (seriously, in the time that he’d been with just one partner, Steelbeak must have gone through at least two or three hundred), but he could see the impact it left now: He could see the guarded posture, the distant look in his eyes as he even now tried to avoid the loon’s gaze, and the walls he was trying to cover up with snide comments and sarcastic quips. He could see it all now.

“Well, I’m not one to crack under pressure.” His simple statement was enough to make Steelbeak glance back over to him, if only just a little. “I can handle myself in a fight just fine, so unless it’s an enemy that can destroy an entire planet, then I won’t be taken down that easily.” The corner of his beak lifted slightly when the taller gem turned his head to look at Domino properly. “I also doubt you’d be able to throw me out of the airlock- I’d just put a barrier over it.” He saw the corner of the other bird’s beak shift a little as well, looking close to a smile before he could stop himself. “And I’m certainly not the type to run from a challenge.” He smirked, trying to come off as challenging but the usual aggravation he would have in his eyes was replaced with something closer to understanding.

Steelbeak seemed to be at a loss for words for the first time since- well, since Domino had known the normally talkative gem. After a few seconds, though, a few simple words left his beak. “A hundred and ninety-nine years.” At a curious tilt of the loon’s head, a silent prompting for more, Steelbeak elaborated on his statement. “That’s the longest I’ve ever had a partner stick with me. You beat that record, and I’ll think about rememberin’ your name. Deal?” He extended his hand towards the other gem, giving one of his usual cocky smirks but with something a bit more sincere showing in his eyes and the way he carried himself.

A small white barrier appeared around Domino’s hand like a glove before he shook the offered hand. “Deal.” He narrowed his eyes warningly, not letting go of the other bird’s hand quite yet. “But you have to stop calling me snowflake. I’ll tolerate the other nicknames until you remember to call me Domino, but if you continue using that one I cannot guarantee your safety.”

Steelbeak blinked in surprise as the other bird finally let go of his hand. “What’s wrong with snowflake?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” Domino waved him off, the white barrier dissolving to expose his hand again. “I know you’re only doing it to make fun of me and I won’t tolerate it.”

“Huh?” Steelbeak only looked further surprised, and now confused, by the obsidian’s words. “I call ya snowflake ‘cause you’re a snowflake obsidian-”

“Yes, yes, and I’m ‘fragile’, I get it! I’ve heard all the jokes a thousand times already: ‘Obsidians are so delicate!’ ‘Obsidians are just dark glass!’ ‘Obsidians are so disposable- they’re practically made to be broken!’ ” Domino scowled, holding his head as he closed his eyes for a moment. He seriously hated all of those stupid, juvenile jokes. If he heard one more, he would-

“People actually say that?” The genuine confusion in the melanite’s voice startled Domino right out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He lowered his hand so he could look at the other gem’s face properly. He was surprised to see that the confusion written across Steelbeak’s face matched his tone perfectly. “The elites say it all the time.”

Steelbeak’s confused expression turned to a scowl that could have rivaled Domino’s a moment ago. “Ugh, do NOT get me started on those good for nothin’ snobs! I can’t stand those jerks!”

Those words surprise Domino yet again. “But..you’re technically an elite, aren’t you? You’re a rare, high-ranking garnet in White Diamond’s court.”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes, making a gagging sound as if the very idea disgusted him. “Not by choice- I try t’ limit my time around those over-polished rocks t’ almost nothin’. Those buckets of slurry got everythin’ handed to ‘em the second they popped outta the ground- they didn’t earn any of it and wouldn’t know a decent gem from a mud ball! They take one look at your gem and think they know EVERYTHIN’ about ya.” He jerked his thumb upwards in the direction of the planet’s surface high above them. “That spinel ya got with ya-”

“Loony.” Domino corrected automatically, though it didn’t stop the other bird’s speech.

“-she’s supposed t’ be a ‘playmate’, far as those elitist jerks are concerned, but she’s got a punch that’d put any amethyst or topaz down with one shot! And you-” He gestured now to Domino- specifically to his gemstone. “You’re an obsidian! You came out of a friggin’ volcano! Just to be alive, ya had to climb out of something that would’ve melted down most of those ‘elite’ gems and be smart enough to get out of there without fallin’ in another lava pit. Obsidians ain’t fragile, they’re sharp- both ways.” He pointed to one of the white spots in Domino’s gem. “Plus you’re a snowflake obsidian, on top of that! Those white spots ain’t just for lookin’ good, they’re made of quartz- so that means you got the sharpness of a regular obsidian PLUS the strength of a quartz soldier.” He lowered his hand, feeling that he’d more than made his point. “If anyone calls YOU fragile, then they deserve whatever ya shoot ‘em in the face with.”

To say that Domino was taken aback by the other man’s words would have been a gross understatement. Never, in his entire life, had he heard anyone describe his gem type in such a positive manner- least of all someone who, by all rights, would be considered an elite according to the diamond’s hierarchy.

What made the other’s words all the more meaningful was how ACCURATE they were. He could still remember the day he was forged: How he’d come out of the volcano and just barely avoided stumbling out into the lava below. How he’d had to climb out of the steep terrain while a couple of the weaker or more careless gems fell to their doom. How those gems screamed in agony and how some tried to grab onto him for support, or climb over him to save themselves, or even attempted to forcefully drag him down with them. How he’d fought for his right to live and climbed all the way to the top so he could see the sky for the first time. And how he’d navigated his way through the streams of lava down the side of the mountain to find the gem base set up miles away, only to instantly be put to work with no regard for what he’d endured to get there.

He hadn’t thought about it before because it was how all obsidians came to life, but Steelbeak was right in his assessment. Domino survived because he was strong enough to live. He continued to survive because he was intelligent enough to keep himself alive. Thinking about it that way, being a snowflake obsidian sounded like something to be proud of-

“Wait..” Once again realization dawned on him. “When you call me snowflake..is that your attempt at a compliment?”

Steelbeak looked away from the shorter gem’s inquisitive gaze once again, absentmindedly scratching at the feathers on his cheek with one finger. “I mean..if ya wanna take it that way, sure…whatever keeps ya from shootin’ me…”

Huh…

This man continued to surprise Domino in new and intriguing ways. Perhaps being partners with him wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

They’d eventually been dug out by Loony, who’d had the idea to use even more explosives to blast away the rubble long enough that Steelbeak could raise their platform out of the hole while Domino’s barrier took on a more pointed shape to help push the debris away when it came back down. Their job was essentially completed after that and they returned to Steelbeak’s ship as usual, neither of them bringing up what they’d discussed beneath the planet’s surface but both certainly feeling a shift in their dynamic.

Things had begun to change between them gradually after that day. While Steelbeak was still rude and sarcastic, his attitude was more joking than insulting as it had been before. Also, now that he knew why the other gem resorted to nicknames, Domino felt less offended over hearing them constantly, which ultimately led to fewer fights between them. Around 150 years into their partnership, he noticed the nicknames “Dee” and “Dom” making their way into the lineup (Loony also got “Loons” added alongside the usual “stretch”, “doll”, and “super stripes”), a sign that Steelbeak was starting to remember his name even if he wasn’t saying it out loud yet.

Then one day, after they’d returned to homeworld following a decade-long mission on the other side of the galaxy, the two had stayed with the ship while Loony went off to go see a friend and the dynamic between them shifted yet again.

Steelbeak had been doing some minor repairs to the Lucky Star, mostly just buffing out some dents and welding together some minor tears in the hull. While he was welding a particularly deep gash on one of the wings, he blindly waved in the direction he’d left the toolbox a few feet away. “Hand me that laser cutter, would ya?”

Domino kneeled down to better reach the item in question. “The 155 or the 240?” He’d gotten more familiar with the various tools and methods of repairing the ship over the years- he’d even gotten better at flying on the odd occasion Steelbeak felt like letting someone else touch his precious vessel’s controls. It had been an interesting learning experience for the loon, seeing as his previous position was more focused on maintaining one of F.O.W.L.’s northern planetary bases and coordinating missions from there rather than flying all over the galaxy for different assignments like his current job.

“The 155 oughta do it.” Steelbeak said, holding his hand out expectantly. Once the correct tool was placed in his hand, he turned it on and got to work. “Thanks, Domino.”

A standard, generic reply had almost left the snowflake obsidians beak…until his mind registered the second word that had been said.

Domino.

Steelbeak had just called him Domino.

Not snowflake, or stripes, or red eyes, or wise guy, or short fuse.

Not even Dom or Dee.

He’d called him Domino.

With anyone else, he would’ve assumed it was a slip of the tongue. Steelbeak, however, was not one for letting his words come out so carelessly, despite what some gems might think. He’d said the loon’s name on purpose.

Pulling back his sleeve to check his watch, he took note of the date and couldn’t stop the smile that effortlessly formed on his beak if he’d tried: It was 200 years to the DAY.

Craning his head to get a better view of the taller gem’s face from his spot beside the wing, Domino saw the smile on Steelbeak’s face. How long had he been waiting for a chance to say the other’s name? Knowing him, he’d probably been looking for the right moment all day.

Leaning against the ship’s wing, Domino gave the only reply that seemed fitting in that moment. “Anytime.”

Steelbeak glanced away from his work, their eyes meeting, each with a knowing smile on their beaks. They both understood the meaning behind that single, simple word:

Anytime Steelbeak needed something, Domino would be there, and Steelbeak would do the same in return. They were partners now, and neither of them were planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

“Hey, Domino, think I found what we’re looking for.” Gandra’s voice says through the speakers on Domino’s watch, bringing him back to the present.

“Right, we’ll be there in a moment.” He replies before nodding towards the door while looking at Loony. “Shall we?”

“Yep! Let’s go save Steely!” Loony says with a smile, already jumping over to the door.

Domino follows behind her, glancing down at the bubbled gem in his hand. They were going to get Steelbeak back. They would not fail. They couldn’t.

After all, he’d promised to be there anytime his partner needed him..and he would not break that promise, now or ever.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: This was another chapter that I had a lot of fun writing :) Getting to show the progression of characters’ relationships is something I always enjoy!

My favorite moment was definitely the one where they were essentially caved in together and Domino got the chance to see that, despite his cockiness and own personal insecurities, there was something worthwhile inside of Steelbeak that just needed some patience and understanding to be brought out.

[themangoeswrite]

Idiocy

these are my ocs but like ,,, you Could read them as sanders sides so do what you want with that Daniel is Child and i Love him if you want the backstory of alya and roman ill put it in the tags ~~ Patton Hart was, for the most part, unfazed by strange happenstances.

    After all, he worked at a preschool and part-time at a library. He babysat on the side, as he loved working with kids, and working with kids often gave him fun stories to tell. But the way that he and Roman got together, was one of the strangest things that has ever happened to him. Patton always enjoyed telling the story because it always started with Roman groaning and putting his face in Patton’s shoulder in embarrassment, begging him not to tell the story as Alya threatened to take over the story and give a much more detailed story of the event if he didn’t let Patton tell it.

    So, it started one day in early January. Patton taught pre-school, so he was often surrounded by little kids. He loved meeting the little ones, and he loved meeting with the parents who raised them. He was known around the school as the one who could deliver the bad news and make it sound good, as he often sugarcoated things for the kiddos. He was happy, almost always seen with a smile on his face as he took care of others.

    Often, there were parents who couldn’t take care of their kid over the summer. For health reasons, for monetary reasons, for whatever reason, there were always kids stuffed into a daycare, one that often didn’t provide the necessary environment for them to develop and learn more. Kids around ages 3-5 needed stimulation and someone with a good attention span handling them, and those daycares more often than not were understaffed with people who can’t handle everything.

    So, occasionally, Patton Hart offered to babysit a child or two over the summer. It’s not like he did anything much anyways over the summer, simply working at the library and reading to the kiddos there. So for the kiddos who did well in class, or those he suspected had some form of ADHD that he knew would be a handful for those underpaid daycare workers, he offered to take care of them over the summer. Some parents took it as an offense, although quickly realized he meant no harm, and others were simply grateful for the offer and took him up on it.

    Daniel Siquieros, he suspected would be one of those kids. Daniel often showed up a bit late, with either his mother Alya or his father Roman looking a little frazzled. But one day, Roman apparently had to go on some form of trip for his work, and Daniel, knowing this, simply did not want to leave. Now, usually, Patton let the parents sort the situation out by themself, but Roman looked like he had fought with Daniel all night and morning trying to explain that he would not be leaving permanently, but only for a couple days. Daniel refused to hear it and only cried harder and louder.

    Roman tried to shush him, but to no avail. Patton took pity on the man and walked over, crouching down to Daniel’s height. “Hey there, kiddo! You remember me?”

    Daniel cried softer, rubbing at his eyes to clear some of the tears before nodding. Patton smiled. “Well, it just so happens, that there was a prince here last night! He said that this school was for only the bravest of knights! The most valiant of other princes! The most beautiful of princesses! Do you want to be a brave knight? Or a valiant prince? Or a beautiful princess even?”

    Daniel giggled, the tears clearing away a bit. “I wan’ be a prince!” He exclaimed. “Like you!”

    Patton laughed, smiling widely at Daniel. “Well, kiddo, you can only be a prince if you come to school. After all, the princes need to learn things too.”

    Daniel quickly let go of Roman, motioning for Roman to lean down too, and as he did so, he kissed his dad’s cheek. “I’m gonna go be a prince, dada!” He quickly ran off to the classroom with a grin on his face.

    Patton stood up, brushing off his pants carefully. Roman stood as well, gazing in awe at Patton. “How did you do that?” He asked, clear admiration in his voice.

    Patton giggled. “Little kids around 3-5ish get upset easily, but they’re easily distracted from their problem. Take a crying kiddo and tell him he can be a prince if he goes to school, and he’ll stop crying and go to school.” He winked at Roman. “And I do babysit over the summer too in case you need a helping hand with your kiddo. Daniel’s a sweetheart but I think he’s a bit much for the daycare.”

    Roman nodded, an easy smile on his face. “The doctors say he might have ADHD and to look out for signs of it. Is your offer to babysit legitimate?” Patton nodded. “Then I might have to take you up on that. Switching daycares is such a hassle and you seem able to take care of him. I gotta run before my kids think I’m ditching them on the big field trip, but I will talk to you later?”

    Patton nodded with a smile. “I’ll give Daniel a note to give to you or your partner with some information on it about my babysitting offer.”

    Roman made a face, before replying, “You mean Alya, right? No, we’re not together- she’s not my partner. We’re both gay, we just live together and have a kid. It’s a bit complicated. But definitely give Daniel the note, I will take you up on it.”

    Patton’s grin got a bit wider and he nodded. “Go on to your other kiddos then, you don’t want to disappoint.”

    “Wait- that’s not- I’m not- my other kids as in I’m a teacher- a theatre teacher- we’re going on a trip to Los Angeles to see a play, Daniel’s my only kid- I’m not abandoning him for my other kids as in biological kids I meant-”

    Patton laughed, and Roman swore it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “I getcha. Better head on over to your kiddos before they think you got lost while Roman around.” Roman could have died and gone to heaven for all he knew as Patton winked at him. “Get it? Like roaming but your name is Roman?”

    Roman couldn’t get a coherent sentence out and instead ended up giggling like an idiot and waving goodbye before running away. Patton smiled to himself before walking back to his classroom.

    Roman did end up taking Patton up on his summer babysitting offer, mainly because they were running out of daycares for Daniel to go to but also because Patton just seemed so good with Daniel, and also Roman may or may not have a crush on him but that is neither here nor there.

    Patton was a bit confused at first, he originally thought Roman hated him, as every time Patton waved or smiled at Roman, he had ran away or run into a doorway. But it quickly became clear that while Roman was a bit clumsy around him, he did try to talk to Patton, even if it was mostly stutterings.

    Patton had a blast babysitting Daniel, and spent some time with Roman while Daniel was asleep, as Roman worked from home in the summer, which usually rendered him incapable of giving Daniel the attention he needed. Daniel’s brain worked fast, making connections that were a bit of a reach for others, but Patton took it in stride, always entertaining whatever topic Daniel was on, and easily switching things without worrying too much about leaving a conversation unfinished.

    Daniel had been ecstatic that Patton would be taking care of him over the summer, as he was one of Daniel’s favorite teachers. This may have been more geared towards Patton always sneaking him lollipops, but either way, Daniel’s seal of approval meant less daycare paperwork for Alya and Roman so they didn’t push it too much.

    Patton had developed a crush on Roman over the course of the summer, and by their last babysitting appointment, Patton had worked up the courage to ask Roman out. It was no big deal if he said no, but he hoped that Roman would say yes. Daniel had just been put to bed for the night, officially the last time, and Roman stood up, yawning and making his way over to his wallet.

    “How much do I owe you again?” Roman asked over his shoulder to where Patton was seated on the couch.

    “The usual, just two dollars.” Patton responded. He knew most babysitters charged way more than that, but he was more than happy to work with the kiddos without the promise of money. The only reason Roman was allowed to pay him was because Roman insisted, and if Patton didn’t set an amount, Roman would slip a twenty into Patton’s pocket before he left, which was the last thing Patton wanted.

    Roman shook his head disapprovingly as usual, but pulled out the two dollars without complaint. He knew from experience that arguing with Patton about how he should get more money for helping with Daniel would only end in Patton leaving without any money, which was the opposite of what Roman wanted.

    Patton made his way over to the door, opening it and stepping outside before turning back and accepting the two dollars from Roman. “You know, if you want to thank me for babysitting, you could take me out to dinner sometime? If you’re comfortable with that, of course. You don’t have to, but I just thought I’d make it clear I was interested before I lose any chance I have. So, to be clear, I have a crush on you and I would like to go on a date with you, but only if you want to as well.”

    Roman gaped slightly, trying to find his voice enough to say yes, and ended up saying, “Word.” before closing the door on Patton and locking it. Roman stood there for a minute, before he groaned and went over to the couch, flopping against it and screeching into a pillow.

    Patton, on the other side of the door, tilted his head, confused, before deciding he’d sort out what the heck kind of response ‘word’ was with his friends from the library later.

~~

Later that evening, Patton and Roman were both trying to sort themself out with their friends.

    “So, just to be clear, run it from the top again.” Daffodil said, trying really hard not to laugh.

    “There’s not much more you can do about it, Daf. I confessed to Roman, I told him I was interested in him, and he just said ‘word’ and closed the door on me. I’m so upset! And a little bit mad! He couldn’t have at least said yes or no? Instead he had to say ‘word’? What kind of a response is that?”

    Logan, who had been sitting on the couch, slid down to the floor and put a comforting arm around Patton. “I apologize for his idiocy. He should have given you a straight answer-”

    Daffodil snorted. “Ha, good luck getting anything straight with him.”

    Logan ignored the interruption, continuing on. “So that you could be clear. You should talk to him.”

    “But all he said was ‘word’! How am I to know if that’s good or bad?”

    Daffodil laughed openly this time, muffling the noise with her hand. “I’m sorry, that’s just so fucking funny.” With a pointed look from Logan, Daf sobered a bit. “And sad. I’m sorry. But Lo’s right, Pat. If you want closure, and potentially a boyfriend, you need to go talk to him. Ask him again, and make it clear you need a yes or no answer.”

    Patton sighed. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

    Daffodil and Logan nodded, knowing that was the best they would get. Daf pulled out the Ben and Jerry’s tubs, offering them to the others. “In the meantime, who wants ice cream?”

~

    Roman groaned into a pillow, pulling another over his head.

    “Oh no you don’t!” Alya scolded, taking the pillow and hitting him with it. “You were an idiot and now you get to deal with the consequences, tarado! A cute boy that you’ve been crushing on told you he liked you and asked you out on a date, and you just said ‘word’! And you make fun of me for getting tongue-tied around Daffodil! But at least when she asked me on a date I didn’t say ‘word’ and close the door in her face!”

    Roman groaned again, wishing he could just disappear. “If I say I’ll talk to him tomorrow and tell him I’d love to go on a date with him, will you leave me alone?”

    Alya threw her hands up in the air. “Ay, por chisimo gusto- fine, yes I will leave you alone if you tell him yes. But, if you don’t tell that boy you’ve been crushing on that you want to go on a date with him, I will intervene. And my way of intervening includes embarrassing stories of you and bribing our child into forcing you and Patton into a closet.”

    Roman furrowed his brows. “How would you even-” He cut himself off after getting hit by a pillow. “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell him! This is abuse, by the way.”

    Alya shook her head, a teasing smile on her face. “No, this is the woman you had a kid with telling you to fortify and go ask the man you like on a date.”

~~

The next morning, Roman went to the coffee shop that he knew Patton liked to be at in the mornings and ordered a blended mocha, scanning the tables for Patton.

    Roman almost died when he saw Patton. He had dressed for the fall weather, a cute sweater on and the sunlight hit him perfectly, its rays shining onto his face, showing the lovely amber of his eyes more prominently than ever. Roman only snapped out of it when he hit a table, a bruise probably forming there. He apologized to the people at the table and moved over to Patton’s.

    “Is this seat taken?” He asked, pointing at the seat across from Patton. Patton looked up, a smile immediately gracing his face, although it looked a bit more forced than normal. He shook his head and allowed Roman to sit down.

    “So,” Roman started, intent on getting his words right this time. “I mixed up my words yesterday. I didn’t give you a straight answer. Instead I said something stupid, like ‘word’, the way I always do when you’re around, because you’re so pretty that my tongue gets all twisty and it doesn’t help that you laugh like an angel and smile like one too and fuck I’m getting off topic, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I, Roman Candorless, would love to take you out to dinner, both to thank you for your help with my kid this summer, and to take a beautiful man named Patton Hart out to dinner. I also apologize for being a dunce when you asked me out yesterday.”

    Patton smiled and giggled. Yeah, Roman was gonna die before the date. “I, Patton Hart, accept your offer, and would love to text you later to set up a time, place, and day for our date. I also forgive you, Roman Candorless, for being a dunce when I asked you out yesterday.”

    Roman smiled, getting out of his seat and bending down slightly, picking up Patton’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “I must go, my prince, but I will talk to you later.”

    Patton giggled and nodded, “Have fun, Ro.”

    Roman straightened and left, looking back one more time at his potential boyfriend. Patton smiled widely and genuinely at Roman. Roman smacked straight into the doorframe of the coffee shop.