#Pairing: Winter x Greg

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

It's that time again...

I have learnt there is a deadline... So there's gonna be 150 words per vote this time XD

My outstanding words needed from last time: - SteelSwan - 140 - GarbageBoys - 4384 - Bucky - 6388 - Ocean thingy - 5635

[punkshort]

First Impressions

Thanks anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk

WC: 4.2K

Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.

So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.

Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.

You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.

Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.

While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.

Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?

He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.

Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.

Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.

He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.

Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.

Then you saw him.

Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.

When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.

He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.

"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"

You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"

He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"

You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."

Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"

You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.

"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."

"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.

"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.

"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."

Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.

"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."

A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"

Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.

"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."

"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."

Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"

Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.

"I mean, for the heater."

"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.

"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.

"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."

"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."

He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.

"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."

Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"

"Nothing I wasn't used to."

He couldn't argue with that.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.

He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"

You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.

"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."

You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.

"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."

Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"

He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."

Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"

"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."

Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.

Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."

"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.

"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."

You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.

Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.

You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.

"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"

You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.

He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.

"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.

"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.

"No, I think that'll do it."

"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."

You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.

"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"

You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."

He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."

Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."

"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.

He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.

"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.

Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.

He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.

You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."

He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.

"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."

"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."

Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."

You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.

But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.

When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.

"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"

You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.

"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.

"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."

He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.

"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.

"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.

"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.

He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.

"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.

"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.

"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.

The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.

Still got it.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.

"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.

"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"

You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."

You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.

"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.

"I need a haircut."

"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.

"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"

"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.

"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."

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[dandelionfairyyy]

Messy G. G.

Summary: just two lost souls finally finding peace in each others company

Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x fem!reader

Wordcount: 7,193 (I’m sorry 😭)

Triggerwaning: 16+ because of slight mention of: blood, torture, GSWs, panic attacks, use of drugs, underweight, mental struggle, trauma and death as well as explicit described sexual acts and possible incorrect description of certain things/feelings and possible writing mistakes

A/N: this piece turned out longer than I expected but I hope you still like it. And as a disclaimer or something: just to make it clear, I didn’t experienced any of this so I apologize for incorrect descriptions.

Red-stained water flows from your hands as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your face bears more stains and you have to close your eyes for a moment and breathe deeply to push back the memory as you continue to wash the red from your skin.

It's like dejà vu. Every time you clean up after painting, you feel transported back to the night three months ago.

There was red everywhere, as if one of your colours had tipped over, but your Ma had been clear when she had forbidden you to paint in the living room. And you had kept to it.

Your gaze wandered through the room of chaos and your breath was taken away when you spotted someone.

"Dad!"

You go down on your knees in front of him, pressing your hands on the gunshot wound in his chest from which blood was still running. Tears now ran down your cheeks as you remembered your mum and siblings.

"Where's Ma? And Olivia? And Wesley? Dad!"

Your dad made a strained groan and mumbled something. You moved your ear closer to his mouth and heard, "They took her... They wanted... Documents... Ma doesn't know anything about it... Bank... 273B..." You couldn't make sense of it, to you it all sounded like the confused ramblings of a dying man, but soon you realised that he was actually serious.

Agitated, you wash the red colour and salty tears from your cheeks. Your hands clench around the ceramics of your sink in an attempt to push back the panic attack.

They cannot hurt you. They cannot hurt you.

They know nothing about you...

With shaky hands, you open the small medicine compartment next to the mirror.

Shit!

You had smoked the last one the day before yesterday... frustrated, you slam the door again and grab your fanny pack with your money before heading to your new friend Johnny. The shivering slowly subsides. The cold winter air seems to help.

"Hey Sugar," he greets you with his typical flirty smirk.

"Quit it. I'm not in the mood. I need another five...'

Johnny looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "When we met you didn't want to know anything about the drugs and now you're one of my most loyal customers? What the hell happened to you?"

"Let's not talk about it," you suggest and take a few dollar notes out of your pocket.

Johnny presses the little bag into your hand and takes the money from you. "Hey, if you ever need something stronger, let me know."

"Don't give me any ideas."

Johnny playfully raises his hands defensively. "Just an offer." He looks at you again with concern. You've known each other for a few years now, travelled in the same circles and he's taken you to his heart. But you've only really had closer contact since the incident. That's why he was worried about you now. You hadn't told him what happened, you'd just asked him three months ago for something to quiet the mind and let you sleep. "Sugar, there's a party at one of my boys' on Friday night. Do you want to come?"

"I'll think about it." With those words, you turn around and make your way back to your little flat. Your flat... It belonged to your parents. It was bought as an investment at the time. Along with two others. For you and your siblings, should you want to move out. Now you have three flats and a house, as well as a flourishing family business worth millions, and you don't know what to do with it. And that's just what you know.

When you check the letterbox, there is another letter from your family's lawyer. You know what it says. That you should accept or reject the inheritance listed. That you have to take care of so many things you never wanted to worry about...

Closing the flat door with one foot, you make your way to the couch.

It doesn't take long and you have your "medicine" in stock again and you reach for the lighter on the small table.

The herbal taste spreads through your mouth after the first hit. After the third, you finally start to feel the marijuana. The comforting blanket wraps around your thoughts and they finally quiet down. The traumatic images from three months ago blur into a simple mist in your mind and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Knowing that hunger will soon set in, you make your way to the kitchen with the joint between your lips and take a look in the fridge.

Margarita, your parents' housekeeper, who is now looking after you, has put something in the fridge for you. Reading the little message lying next to it, you start to heat it up in the pan.

Because I know you won't cook anything anyway, I took the liberty of preparing something for you. You really should eat more, child.

You smirk.

Margarita has been working for your family for more than twenty years, taking care of the household and you and your siblings as children. Now there is only you left for her to take care of. You take another drag and these thoughts also fall completely silent.

Instead, you focus on the food.

Margarita's food was always incredible, but with the effect of the marijuana it is even better. Smiling contentedly, you eat in complete silence before fatigue sets in soon after.

Yawning, you plod barefoot from the kitchen back to the couch.

Next to the pillow lies the little sheep that you have had as a cuddly toy since birth. If someone asked you, you would deny that you still sleep with a cuddly toy, but since what happened three months ago, the little sheep has given you comfort when no one else could.

You lovingly hug the fluffy thing to you and finally close your eyes to fall asleep shortly afterwards.

Your flat actually consists of three rooms. A bedroom, a study and a living room.

But two of the three rooms are empty. The walls are bare and there is not a single piece of furniture in them. Only in the living room is a couch where you sleep and a table next to it. Otherwise, the boxes that Margarita packed for you from the house are standing around. You haven't even opened most of them. Everything in them reminds you of something that is no longer there.

Friday morning you finally stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself. You have lost a lot of weight after the incident, but thanks to Margarita, who forced you to eat more in the beginning, your clothes start to fit again.

You no longer wear your belts in the last hole, your T-shirts no longer hang down like sacks. Your hair looks fuller and healthier again.

Maybe you should make a change?

After a moment's thought, you call Margarita. And only thirty minutes later she is standing in front of your flat with hair dye.

"Are you sure, dear?" she asks in her Russian accent for the third time and lowers the scissors again. "Your beautiful hair..." When you were little, she made you pigtails every morning. Sometimes one, sometimes two. Sometimes braided, sometimes not. And every day she admired your full and soft hair.

By now you can do most of the braids on your own. But in the last few months you have neglected yourself. This is also noticeable in your hair.

"Yes, Margarita. I'm sure of it. And don't worry. It will grow back anyway..." you reply with a grin and watch as she takes a strand of your hair, applies the scissors and squints. You hear the sound of the scissors cutting through your hair. There is no turning back now.

Three hours later, you're standing in front of the mirror again and looking at your new hairstyle.

The dark brown has turned into a light blonde and your hair is much shorter. Before it almost reached your bottom, now it doesn't even reach your shoulder. The end just hovers over it. You didn't know how heavy hair can actually be.

"Wow...", you say and run your fingers through your new hair. You part your hair in the middle, make a side parting, and finally bites your lower lip with an admiring smile.

"You look great, love," she confirms to you and as you turn to thank her, she sees for the first time the glow in your eyes again for three months.

She hopes so much that you will slowly get back on your feet. You are like a daughter to her. She has watched you grow up and looked after you when your parents were busy again. So it hurts her heart every time to see you the way you are. You are lost. Lost in a world where you don't belong, where you never wanted to belong.

How she would love to take this burden off your shoulders, but she could not. All she can do is stand by your side and help when it is needed. But first you have to find your footing again.

After another look in the mirror, you decide to go to that party Johnny invited you to. While Margarita tidies up the flat again, you carelessly go through the boxes of expensive clothes.

Finally, you're back in front of the mirror in a pair of ripped jeans and a crop top. You look at yourself with a smile.

"You look like an angel," Margarita says as she leans against the doorframe, watching you.

You would not describe yourself as an angel, but as beautiful.

It has been a long time since you felt yourself to be beautiful. You see in the eyes of your old friend and housekeeper the hope that you wanted to feel so much. You no longer want to be this wreck, this shadow of yourself. But you are now in this new world where you never wanted to belong. And you don't know how to find your footing in it.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and thank Margarita again with a kiss on the cheek. You still ask her for one last favour, because you have to get to the party somehow.

"Sugar, what a surprise. I didn't expect to see you." "Well, if you want, I can leave again..." you joke.

Johnny smiles and grabs your hand to pull you into the house and his arms. "You look hot by the way", he whispers in your ear and places a kiss on your temple.

"Whatever," you dismiss the compliment with a little laugh and let yourself join the group of other partygoers.

"Hey guys, this is Y/N," Johnny introduces you and drops onto one of the couches. He pulls you with him onto his lap.

"You wish, Johnny. Keep your hands off. I am your customer, not your girlfriend, Sugar." You emphasise the pet name, which he always uses for you, especially.

"Worth a try, isn't it?"

You let your gaze wander around the room. Apart from Johnny, there are four other men sitting in the room. spread out the couches. "You call this a party? Or is this just the warm-up round?" you finally ask.

"I didn't know if you'd really come and how much of a party animal you are." Had he really done that just for you?

"Since when do you care how I am?" you ask him, poking him in the side.

"Some people I just like to take care of.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and don't respond further to his comment. Instead you say, "You didn't answer my question?"

"Hey Timothy, send out a message that there's a party here at short notice," Johnny gives to one of the other guests.

"You got it, boss."

"You'll have your party in an hour," Johnny promises and you smile. He leans forward a little and finally presses his lips to yours. You allow it for a few seconds before you release and place a finger on his lips, shaking your head.

"Nice try." You turn away from him and disappear into the bathroom.

A few deep breaths, a little water over your forearms and you're all better.

When you come back, you don't sit down next to Johnny again, but on the sofa opposite him. You need some space between you and him.

You like Johnny, he's a good friend, you can count on him, but he wants something from you. He makes no secret of it, but he doesn't understand that you don't want anything from him.

Now you are sitting next to a lanky young man, about your age, maybe a little older. With your back against the armrest, you casually put your legs diagonally across his, eliciting an overwhelmed "oh... okay" from him before you say, "Johnny didn't introduce us. I'm Y/N." You reach out your hand to him.

He takes it and introduces himself as "Mouse". You look at him in amazement. "Mouse?"

"Actually it's Greg, Mouse is a ridiculous nickname, but I've come to terms with it. Nice to meet you, Y/N."

"Nice to meet you too."

As Johnny promised, less than an hour later there was a party going on in the house. Music booms muffled from the big room into the smaller one where you are still sitting on the couch with Mouse. He's thawed out enough by now that he had his hands on your thighs to keep your legs from sliding down.

You feel Johnny's jealous gaze on you, but try to ignore it as much as possible.

"Hey Mouse. Are you also part of Johnny's business?" you finally ask curiously. To be honest, he doesn't really look like a dealer, more like a customer.

"I would rather say business partner.”

You look at him curiously.

"He introduces me to people who I then work for. I'm a computer crack."

"Oh. That's cool. I don't have anything to do with it. I'm totally incompetent at it. My talents lie elsewhere."

"It's not that hard. What do you do?"

"Y/N has divine hands...", Johnny comments and one of the men laughs quietly in the background.

"You bet," you hear and roll your eyes. Thanks to a former girlfriend, you now have that reputation gone...

"So I'm an artist," you clarify. "Johnny also introduces me to people I work for. I've painted one or two forgeries of famous works of art. There's even one hanging in the museum here in Chicago." You wink at him with a proud grin. "But most of the works are my own."

"Are you selling them?"

"Some. I was organising an exhibition where I could sell the works. Sort of a silent auction." You shrug your shoulders as if to dismiss the subject.

"What happened to that?"

"Something's come up," you dodge the question and instead reach for his beer bottle to take a sip of it.

As soon as the tingling liquid hits your taste buds, you contort your face.

"Yuck. How can you drink that. That's super disgusting."

Mouse laughs and takes the bottle from you again to drink a sip from it himself.

For the rest of the evening you talk about different things. It feels easy with him, like you can finally be you again. As if you had found an anchor to swim back to the surface. But you push back the budding sense of security. People come and go all the time. You've had to learn that the hard way. And they always want something from you.

"Hey, what's with the sad face all of a sudden?" asks Mouse in a soft voice, lifting your head with his index finger under your chin until you look at him. You have the feeling that he is really interested in your answer. It has been a long time since a person was really interested in you. So far, they've all wanted something from you in return. To buy something, to borrow money, to introduce someone to them, to sleep with them. But Mouse seems to be interested in you and you alone.

Tears come to your eyes and you have to take a deep breath. You put your head back and have to blink a few times until you can control yourself again.

"Do you know when the bad thoughts get too loud? And you don't know where you are, what's real and what's imaginary? What exactly is your mind playing you now and what is really there?"

"That pretty much sums up what I went through some time ago."

The tears were back and burning in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks.

"Have you figured out how to get rid of it?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. But it gets easier with time, you learn to live with it. I can promise you that." You nod and look at him with a sad smile.

"God. I'm so pathetic.

"Hey, don't say that. You're amazing. From what I've heard of you so far." With more affectionate words he tries to make you feel better and the only appropriate response that comes to your mind is to kiss him.

You lean forward and simply place your lips on his, silencing him.

You sense that he is surprised and overwhelmed by your reaction, which is why you withdraw again.

"I’m sorry," you say apologetically and pinch your lips together a little. Actually, you're not sorry, it felt too good.

"Don't be," he replies now, putting down his beer bottle and pulling you closer again.

His hands on your cheeks, he puts his lips on yours again and begins to kiss you.

You change position a little until you are sitting astride his lap. His hands now on your back and in your hair, your arms around his neck, your hands also running through his hair, you kiss each other deeply.

You dare to let go. You feel that it's okay, that it's the right thing to do, you just let go and the tears trickle down your cheeks while Mouse holds you, is your anchor to reality, so that you don't get lost in the whirlpool. The images you constantly see in front of you just pass by this time, have no effect on you, because Mouse's is stronger. You feel light, safe and secure in his arms, even though you hardly know him.

Your kiss becomes more intimate, more demanding and you receive his tongue with yours. Then your head is empty.

There is nothing more. Just you and this stranger who has this incredible effect on you.

Finally, you break away breathlessly and just look into each other's eyes. You notice that he can't hold eye contact for long, but that's okay. You know... you have experienced first-hand the effects trauma can have. Your fingers begin to trace his contours.

He makes you feel like you've never felt before. You don't have to say a word. It is as if your looks communicate everything.

Gently he wipes your tears from your cheeks. You nod slightly at his questioning look. Yes, you feel much better now.

"Thank you," you form with your lips. A small smirk settles on his and you lean forward again to kiss him once more. This time it's different. You no longer seek a hold on him, this time it's a "thank you".

Your kiss is gentle, careful and sensual.

If someone had told you this morning what was happening, you would have said that they were nuts. You still can't quite understand how this one person can have such power over you. That this one person can simply silence your thoughts like that.

Time passed, you're sitting next to Mouse again. Your legs crossed his as Johnny brought you not only a cup of Coke but also a joint. You throw him a kissing hand.

After lighting the cigarette, you hold it out to Mouse, offering it to him. He takes a drag while you hold the joint before you take one too.

You blow out the smoke upwards with relish.

A few puffs later, you lean forward again a little until your lips are almost touching and you inhale his smoke before exhaling it back upwards.

"Hey Y/N...", you hear someone's voice before the owner enters the room, just as you inhale Mouse's smoke one more time. "..Johnny said you were here... And apparently you're busy."

You make a grumbling noise, detach yourself from Mouse and blow the smoke back upwards. "Just what I need..." you mutter, before turning to face her. Even through the wonderful fog of the Weed, you are pissed off by the presence of this horrible person. Inconspicuously, you squeeze Mouse's hand tightly, again looking for support, before finally letting go and standing up.

"Genevieve..." you reply, looking at her with a fake smile.

"It's good to see you again. Hey. I'm sorry about what happened."

"Please, don't talk about it and say what you want." Your voice is cold and distant.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. I know it was not correct of me."

You laugh in disbelief. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone, Genevieve. That's not something you just shrug off with an 'I'm sorry'."

"I know that. That's why I want to make it up to you. Tell me what to do."

"Would you do what you put me through?" She remains silent and you snort snidely before taking another step back. You need distance between you. "Of course you wouldn't. After all, then your great image would be tarnished. The great benefactor Genevieve..." you scoff, before adding: "You make me sick."

You see her expression stiffen. "And you are a slut! You slept with my boyfriend even though you knew he was MY boyfriend!" There she is, the real Genevieve, as she lives and breathes. You knew she had this side in her, but you never expected to feel it yourself.

Your hands clench into fists and you feel your fingernails digging into your skin. The pain helps you to stay calm as much as possible.

"Excuse me? That was some pretty lie he breathed into your ear. I told him I didn't want anything from him! Do you think he cared? You know what he told me? That you were too innocent, too willing. Too boring. I slapped him and told him not to talk about my best friend like that in front of me. He then tried to rape me! So much for your perfect Richard and the evil evil Y/N!", you rage.

Shocked, she looks at you before regaining her composure. "Liar!" she hisses, then looks at Mouse. "Have fun with that bitch. Make sure she doesn't end up cheating on you with your best friend."

You gasp in indignation and shock at her impudence. Your former best friend turns around and disappears again.

One more time you have to take a deep breath.

"Wow... that was intense," you hear Mouse suddenly standing behind you. You notice how you immediately become calmer as soon as you feel him behind you.

"Welcome to the young high society of Chicago," you murmur and turn to him. "I'm sorry you overheard that."

"Hev. I want you to know that I don't believe a word she says."

You smile sadly. "Then you're the first. Even Johnny thinks I'm the evil whore in the story."

"Well. I think you're just lost and need someone to believe in you again."

"And you're saying that someone is you?"

"Maybe," Mouse replies with a grin.

You have to laugh and gently bite your lower lip, slightly swollen from your kiss, as you look up at him.

"Are you coming?"

"Where?"

"Get some fresh air, go to the other side of the world, or go to a diner and eat something. Just get away from here."

He takes your hand in his again and intertwines his fingers with yours.

"Where are you going?" he just asks.

You feel a tingle in your stomach as he smiles at you and you have to swallow.

You say goodbye to Johnny with a simple wave before leaving the house with Mouse by the hand.

A car on the other side of the road flashes its lights as soon as you are out of the front gate and you roll your eyes, while you mumble, "Margarita…”

Nevertheless, you walk with Mouse towards the black car with the tinted windows.

"Wow... are you super rich or something?" asks Mouse wryly.

"Please don't remind me,” you only reply, as Peter, your family's long-time driver, gets out and holds the door open.

"Miss Y/L/N," he greets you with a nod as you tell Mouse to get in. "Hey Pete," you say back and get into the car as well.

"Where to, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Hannah's Diner," you reply and Peter nods before pulling out of the parking space.

Next to you, you sense that Mouse would like to bombard you with a thousand questions, but he refrains.

You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder.

"I hate it," you admit.

In response, Mouse squeezes your hand.

You never wanted your family's money. Even though you got a lot of pocket money, you never touched it. Since you were 16 and allowed to work, you worked in a diner and earned your few bucks. Everything you bought since then, you always bought with your own money.

Until the incident three months ago, you worked at Hannah's Diner. But since then you have hardly left your flat. Hannah, who has become a friend over time, has been there for you and said that you can take as much time off as you want and when you are ready and willing, you can start working for her again.

Together with Mouse, you sit down at one of the tables and wait for Hannah to come

It was already late, but the diner was open 24/7. "Okay. What do you want?" you ask, "it's on me." Seeing the look on his face, you add, "Do me a favour and let me pay." After another look into your eyes, he nods. "Okay."

You are suddenly absolutely exhausted. The encounter with Genevieve has robbed you of all the strength you had today.

"Y/N. Good to see you again," you are finally greeted by Hannah with a smile. You return it and stand up to be pulled into a hug.

"How are you?" she asks, looking at you with concern.

You shrug your shoulders. "I'm still alive..."

Hannah's smile turns sad and compassionate. "Well, that's a start." She puts a hand on your shoulder as you sit back down across from Mouse. "What can I get you two?"

Once your milkshakes and fries are brought, Mouse begins to tell. "I was in the army, 3rd Battalion 75th Ranger Regiment. I did two tours in Afghanistan. When I came back, my best friend who I met on deployment and I were a total mess. There are things I don't want to think about anymore, there are things that are constantly in my head. You learn to live with it. The images eventually become less deterrent."

"What happened?" you ask cautiously.

"During my last tour... there was a convoy... Jay and I were in the first Humvee and then..." You can see him bobbing his leg restlessly as he tells the story, his fingers drumming on the table. "I thought that was it for me. Jay and I are about the only ones who got out of there alive."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." You are silent for a moment and take a deep sip of your Strawberry milkshake before you decide to tell him about you.

"My family is... was...", you correct yourself, "actually super rich. The company my dad started after he invented something for computers or something that's now in pretty much every mobile device is incredibly huge. I honestly have no idea about the whole… thing" you run your fingers through your hair. It's still unfamiliar that it's now so short and, more importantly, so light. "He produces it himself, sells it himself. At least he did... He was tinkering with something newer, better, when he got mugged." You start to stir your milkshake with the straw, totally captured in your thoughts. "Someone tried to steal his designs. When he didn't hand them over, they shot and kidnapped my Ma and siblings. They blackmailed them to get the designs. But they knew nothing about it. Dad had never said anything about it." Tears burn in your eyes again. "I’ve found them...” Mouse carefully reaches across the table for your hand and brings you back from the memory.

You lift your gaze and meet his bright blue eyes. "Now I've inherited everything and have no idea where to go or what to do," you admit quietly. "The police never found the… offenders”

Mouse said nothing. He didn't have to say anything. Because nothing he could have said would have made you feel better. So you both remained silent for a moment while he still held your hand and gently caressed your skin with his thumb.

"Thank you for telling me," he finally says and you can't help but smile sadly at him.

"Okay. Let's talk about something else. Something nice..", you finally change the subject and force a liberated smile on your lips. "Tell me about your friend you mentioned, Jay. He seems important to you."

Mouse's expression brightens and he begins to smile honestly.

"Jay... we met in the army. Now he's with the CPD. He's managed to land on his feet. I.. well.."

"You can do it too. You just need someone who believes in you and gives you a chance."

"Yes. Maybe..."

"Okay. Crazy idea: we help each other get back on our feet." "And how do you imagine that?" He looks at you with interest.

"I don't know yet. But you can try, can't you?" "Okay. Let's try.”

After you have eaten and paid, you leave the diner again. "Do you want Pete to take you home? Or you can come upstairs. Then Pete can call it a night..”.

"Would be interested to see what an artist's flat looks like."

You snort in amusement. "Yes, don't expect too much. The artist hasn't moved in yet."

You get into the lift.

"Okay. All expectations are at zero. I promise," Mouse replies now and you have to laugh.

It's the first time in three months that you've really had an honest laugh.

"You have a very nice laugh," Mouse now says quietly.

"Thank you. I think that was the first time I laughed since the incident."

"Then I am honoured to be the first to hear it."

Again you giggle at his silliness.

The lift has arrived at the floor with your flat and you pull Mouse behind you down the corridor.

Once in your flat, Mouse looks around a bit. There is not much to see.

"I... haven't gotten around to decorating the flat yet," you now admit a little uncertainly and disappear into the kitchen.

"Since I don't drink beer, I only have wine in the fridge. But you get to decide which wine we head." You list a few varieties and as you look up, you meet Mouse's puzzled gaze, which makes you grin in amusement again.

"Just take any."

With a bottle of lovely white wine and two glasses in your hand, you go back into the living room and flop down on the couch.

"Sit down. I honestly have no idea what it is, Margarita got it for me...", you admit, and hand Mouse a glass with the alcohol.

Instead of sitting down, Mouse looks at the canvases that are standing around. Still lifes, landscapes. Chicago's skyline, portraits.

"That looks incredible. You should definitely exhibit it."

"Sometime, maybe. My parents were organising something when... well…”

Mouse nods in understanding.

"Hey, you want to try painting something?", you ask

"Oh no. I'd rather stick to my computer stuff."

"Come on. I'll help you." You direct him to the small stool that stands in front of your easel. "This is what I'm working on right now."

"Woah, no, I'm not touching that."

"No really. It didn't turn out so well anyway. I'll probably paint it over later."

"What?"

"Yeah, go on. What would you say is missing from this picture?"

You had painted an avenue where people were walking.

"Maybe make flowers out of the greenery? Then it doesn't look quite so gloomy.

"Okay." You stand behind Mouse, prepare the mixing palette and select a brush. "You do the flowers with dabs on the side."

You put the brush in his hand, put yours over it and guide it. Dab, dab, dab.

After a few dabs, you look at it and say with satisfaction: "Here. Now you try it on your own”

When Mouse did it alone, it didn't look as good as when you did it. But it wasn't a complete disaster either, which you consider a victory.

At some point, he taps his finger in the pink colour and taps you on the nose with it.

Outraged and surprised, you look at him before doing the same to him until you are both full of colour and end up laughing on the floor.

Over the next few weeks you and Mouse meet more often, regularly, sometimes he just sits on your couch and watches you paint, intently sticking your tongue out slightly, sometimes you watch him hacking in with ease somewhere to do something for Johnny's friends.

One day, your family's lawyer is at your door.

"Miss Y/L/N. It is time for you to attend to your duties. There are legal matters that we need to clarify." Mouse puts on his jacket and wants to leave, but you grab his hand. "Please stay." A look into your eyes is enough for him to nod and hang his jacket back up on the coat rack.

"Y/N. Once again, I would like to express my fullest condolences for your loss and for having to burden you with the legal stuff now."

"Thank you."

First he addresses the fact that you have still not accepted or renounced the inheritance. He lists all the things that are involved.

The house, the flats, the business, all the money of your parents and siblings. Mouse's ears almost fell off when he heard the buzzing.

"We can of course sell the house as well as the flats and the business."

"No. The company was Dad's life's work. It should continue to bear the name Y/L/N. Just hire someone competent to handle everything so far."

"I'II take care of it," promises Felix, the lawyer. "Then the properties." "Let's rent them out to people with little money..." Felix also makes a note of this.

"I want to donate most of the money..."

"Where?"

"'I’ll think about it.”

"Alright. Then I have everything for now. I'll get back to you." "Okay."

"You really are super rich”, Mouse said as soon as Felix was out the door.

"I don't want the money... What am I supposed to do with it? I can't spend as much as the company takes in. I probably donate monthly to women's shelters and children's homes or something.”

Mouse gently reaches for your hand and finally pulls you into a hug before the tears start running again.

Carefully he pulls you with him to the couch and onto his lap.

Shortly after your tears have dried up, Mouse feels you fall asleep and he smiles slightly.

In the last few weeks you have become so important to each other and you feel you have never told Mouse what it actually means to you that he is with you.

"Mouse... thank you..."

"For what?"

"That you're here. I... I was lost. Lost my footing and then I met you and... you became my anchor. I'm... I'm starting to be me again. Finding myself again."

He looks at you for a moment before he takes your hand and pulls you to him. The next moment his lips are on yours.

It doesn't take you long to recover from the surprise and you return the kiss. You open your lips slightly and receive his tongue, just like the night you met. But this time, when his tongue touches yours, a soft moan escapes you. You feel his little smirk against your lips. But at this moment you don't care.

Your hands run over his upper body and finally disappear under his T-shirt. You explore his chest and trace the contours of his muscles along his stomach. You tug lightly and he takes the hint and takes off his T-shirt before kissing you again without hesitation. His hands now roam over your body as well. Exploring every inch with such attentiveness to your reactions that you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Finally, you take off your T-shirt and Mouse takes a few seconds to admire your body. Your breasts are still hidden in your favourite bra.

Mouse lifts his gaze to your eyes. "May I?"

Your heart does a somersault. Mouse is not the first man you have slept with, but he is the first to ask you if he can do something. Unable to speak, you nod and bring his hands to your breasts and behind your back. Even though he can't look you in the eye for long, he watches your reaction very closely and as he slips the straps off your shoulders, goose bumps spread over your arms as his fingers touch you.

Kissing you again, still so lovingly, as if he were afraid you would break if he were too forceful, his hands wrap around your breasts and he begins to massage them.

His thumb strokes your hard nipples and you let out another moan as you begin to explore his mouth with your tongue.

Your excited moan shoots straight between his loins.

God, he wants you, so much, but even more he wants you to feel good, which is why he ignores the pulsing in his pants and continues to focus on you.

His hands go under your thighs and he looks at you briefly, the sign that you should jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and feel his hardness pressing against your middle.

The next moment, Mouse holds you between him and the wall, his lips now exploring your neck. With your eyes closed, you put your head to the side a little to give him more space.

He sucks a little on your skin, and leaves a little hickey.

An excited gasp escapes your throat and in response, he presses his hips a little harder against yours, only to have you moan lustily this time. "Fuck, Mouse..." you breathe as his lips reach your breast and cup your hard nipple.

Your head is swept clean as he begins to gently nibble, suck and lick over it.

Your hands are in his hair again, already you are searching for support in the storm of lust that threatens to take you in and you haven't even really started yet.

Each of his touches sends flashes of pleasure through your body, gathering in your centre and making you so fucking wet.

Finally, he sets you back down on the floor and his lips continue to travel down your body, over your belly to the waistband of your pants.

A loud shrill sound snaps you out of your frenzy of lust as a mobile phone begins to ring and you make a soft, agonised sound.

You want to ignore it, but it won't stop ringing.

Finally, Mouse, visibly annoyed about the interruption, breaks away from you and reaches for the phone on the table. "You've picked possibly the worst possible time, Halstead. I hope it's urgent."

You have to stifle a laugh as you hand him his shirt and put yours back on as well.

"Yes, in ten minutes, l'lI be there," you hear him say before he hangs up and looks at you apologetically. "Jay has some problem I need to help him with urgently, which of course couldn't wait." You nod in understanding and give him a breathtaking kiss goodbye.

The more time you spend with Mouse, the more you become yourself again. Margarita notices this too and confronts him when she happens to be in the flat while you and Mouse are there.

"Child, don't you want to start making your flat a home so that you no longer have to sleep in a storeroom?" she asks you, pointing to the boxes still standing around.

"Yeah, maybe I should start doing that, shouldn't I?"

When you then go to the kitchen to get something to drink, Margarita confronts Mouse: "If you hurt her, I'll make your life hell. She likes you and you are good for her, so don't ever let her go."

Then she turns to you as you re-enter the living room and says: "A nice young man you've caught yourself. I'II leave you to it then. Food is in the fridge, have a nice day." With a frown, you watch the woman scurry out of the front door.

"What was that?"

"I don't know what you mean," Mouse replies.

You shrug it off and change the subject. "Hey, about the flat furnishings...maybe you'd like to come with me?" You look at him with begging puppy eyes, which you know by now he cannot resist.

Your parents always had designer furniture everywhere and everything was made of very expensive material. You don't care, if you're honest, which is why you just decide according to what looks nicest to you. You notice how you think of your parents and don't immediately lose your grip. A small smile comes to your lips. Of course you still grieve and miss your family, that probably won't change, but it no longer paralyses you. You learn to live with it.

And Mouse has contributed a great deal to your healing, you are very sure of that, which is why you now take his hand and intertwine your fingers

A small smile also appears on his lips.

When you arrive in the bed department, you stand in front of a model and bite your lower lip, an idea forming in your head before you look at Mouse

"You know, you can't really try out the beds here. Just imagine, when you get home you realise that it's totally uncomfortable or impractical? If only you could try it out...." You look up at him meaningfully and he begins to laugh softly.

He understands what you are implying and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, before suggesting, "What do you say we come back later?"

"I think that's a great idea," you reply, stealing a small kiss from his lips.

…to be continued

back to masterlist

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (III.7)

VII. A Mandragora's leaf

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Back with the second part of the semester 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 2,7 k

Notes: If you see something say soemthing, come on and party tonightttt

You hear the indistinct sound of a bludger but you didn't even look back.

It missed you by a few feets, you were faster than the Hufflepuffs beaters with your very much superior broom

You raised the Quaffle in the air and punch it so hard, it went through the tallest of hoops 

“And Slytherin gained 10 more points! putting them ahead by 50 points against Hufflepuff’s 30, the Slytherin chasers are on fire today!”

NO MERCY

Had said Flint

You had played good against Ravenclaw but you only had 180 points, no more, you had to annihilate Hufflpuff who had won against Gryffindor… and you had more chances than ever of winning

And you were succeeding

“Let’s go!”, said Flint, and you flied on formation to gain the Quaffle again, flanked by your beaters 

You felt like finally you were giving your nimbus 2001 some good action after last year's cancellation

You were only one week in and you were playing your second game of the season, but like the commentator said, you were on fire!

You took the time to search for Draco

You had discussed this

It was Diggory’s tactic to divert the other team’s seeker, sometimes as trying dangerous diving maneuvers, and you had warned Draco against them, he seemed to gotten that, and again, he was using his advantage of a better broom with all his might, chasing after Diggory only if the snitch was at stake.

You keep playing your own game, Draco was fine

You had recuperated the quaffle from the opposite team with the solo Pinzer, a move you had been practicing, you were getting tired of always being on the sidelines. You passed onto Adrian and he scored, making that sixty points ahead 

You celebrated with one arm in the air as you turned around

It was one of those beautiful winter days, the sky was clear, the sun was there, but there was snow everywhere, all white all around… and that is how you spotted it, in the ground, a black, moving dot, when you looked again, you realized… It was that dog! 

The dog you had fed near the shrieking shack! 

How odd was that?

But you had no time to think about some dog, you kept playing, you needed those points to consolidate at this year’s champions… again

Your keeper was excellent, as he repelled an attempted goa by the Hufflepuffs, and you were again trying to assemble one of your plays

No mercy…

You loved this part…

Being held up in the air, in the common room, as your housemates cheered for you, their ever-winning Quidditch team

This year’s cup was as good as yours, obviously 

You had won! Draco had caught the snitch, and with it, the total score of the game had been 230 points! 

You always celebrated after a match, and before you were too young… you were still too young… but… you tried to stay a bit longer with the others, it was saturday after all, but after a couple of butterbeer from a keg someone had… brought… to the party, you were feeling a bit giggly.

It had been a long and strenuous day, you wanted to sleep, Draco was on the side, talking to Vince, Greg, and Matthew, never missed a thing that one. He catches you trying to slip out of the gathering and ran to meet you

“That was a good game”, he said, but to you, everything he said was like he was teasing you, all of it

“Thank you Matt”, he tried following you, but you looked back at him impatiently

“Why are you slipping out of your own party?”, he asked

“It’s hardly MY party”, you murmured, “I’m tired, I want to go to sleep”, he seemed to give up, only nodding and letting you be 

You should be happy, you should be extremely happy that you just won your second game of the season and you were ready to to win the house cup, playing an active role on the team

But then why couldn't you think of anything else but that Black dog?

Why was he at the Quidditch pitch?

Was it just some weird dog? that made no sense at all

Anyways…

The weekend came and went rather quickly, and before you could realize it, you were watching McGonagall carefully in class, for the very first time, Transfiguration might actually become your favorite class

You were going to be studying Animagi

Animagus’ were witches and wizards with the ability to transform into an animal…

Not with a spell, and it's not something you are born with, it’s something you can become, it was done due to a very particular ritual that could take months to perform. You were taking notes heavily

Perhaps, in a very subconscious way, you wanted to distract yourself with anything you could, but still, it was kind of nice

An Animagus

How cool was that? As you saw professor McGonaggal turn into a cat and back to herself in a second.She could turn into an animal at will! 

You raised your hand, and Minerva nodded her head, as giving you the word

“Can I turn into an animagus?”, you asked

“Yes, I was getting to that”, she said, “anyone who wants to become one, can do so with help of the school, from me or Professor Dumbledore”

You looked at Draco at your side and he seemed disgusted, but you were really curious, you wanted to do it

“Do you want to try?”, you asked him excitedly, he looked back at you frowning

“No?”

“Really? how cool would it be?”, you asked him

“I don’t think so”

“Being able to acquire the ability of an animal?”, you kept asking, “being able to hide, climb, or even fly! FLY!”

“We fly almost everyday at training”, he said, unimpressed

He wasn’t interested, nor anyone else in your friend group, but you were.

So you stayed in the classroom after everybody had left, with a silly smile and a plea in your eyes.

It took you a few days to convince McGonagall, and at times you didn’t really think you could do it, but… in the end… 

“Why are you speaking so strange?”, Malfoy asked, you just shook your head

“No reason”, you muttered, it was strange to hold a Mandragora’s leaf inside of your mouth, even if you had picked the smallest one 

You weren’t the only one, that is why Mcgonaggal was so convinced, but as some sort of test, you needed to gather yourself two very difficult ingredients, as proof that you were truly committed, and of course, she didn’t say it clearly, but to get them, you were going to need to break a rule or two then put them in  a magical jar you had to put together.

“It’s Ravenclaw VS Gryffindor this weekend, and we have a surprise for them”, Draco told you

“What kind of surprise?”, you asked, concerned 

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

“Draco we are winning! we don’t need to do anything! please!”, you said angrily

“It will be fun, you’ll see”, he said, content, and it got worse when you realized Flint was in on it, and he wouldn’t even tell you what it was about either.

Your relationship with Draco was getting a bit strained… bot only because he was getting meaner, but also because…

Of what happened with Buckbeak

Uncle Lucius was furious because of what happened, and he had presented an inquiry to the Department of disposal of dangerous animals, and it was a whole thing with a trial included 

Buckbeak could be… disposed off, if Hagrid didn’t do a  good job representing him in his defense, and let’s be honest, he wasn’t the most eloquent of creatures you had encountered, nor he knew the right people like uncle lucius were.

You tried to convince yourself that the jury and the department would do their job and assess the creature, maybe he was a danger to others… maybe

Poor Buckbeak was as well as dead. So in order to avoid being mad at Draco, you tried to

“Draco please!”, you begged him, “It’s a wild magical creature, he doesn’t know what he is doing! he doesn’t deserve to die!”, you tried to reason with him

“Father can’t take it back”, he said simply, and frowning, “why do you care so much anyways?”, you looked at him but found no remorse, or understanding, or anything. You didn’t want to nag him, about that quidditch surprise and about Buckbeak, so you just nodded

You had Muggle studies in the afternoon, so that is where you went with Theo and Matt

“For your semester assignment, and work for your final grade, you will make an investigation about a muggle artifact you can find in a muggle family home”, she said with a smile.

Charity Burbage was a nice teacher, once she realized you were really interested in class and you meant no harm.

“Here is the list”, you had in class a poster of the inside of a muggle house, with a lot of objects and the names of them. What was most shocking is that the poster didn’t move, nor either any of the others that were decorating the classroom

You couldn’t repeat your object with others so she started talking by list and each students had to get close to it and pick one

Since you three were the last ones in joining the class, you had the last picks

You looked all over the posters, and what intrigued you most was the bathroom, specially a little yellow duck that was floating inside the bathtub

“This one!”, you said

“Ah! the mysterious rubber duck!”, said Professor Burbage, “good choice”

“Why is it mysterious?”, you asked

“Well, nobody had managed to discover its use”, she said simply, and you looked quite puzzled

Aren’t there hundreds of muggle born students in Hogwarts? nobody thought about asking them?

“What a bullshit assignment”, muttered Matt, who had picked a weird artifact that had some sort of goo inside of it and it shined, and it was commonly found in muggle children’s rooms

Theo on the other hand, had picked something they found in a kitchen, it was some sort of… thing, you didn't even know how to describe it, but it was composed of two parts, a glass container and then a base with… buttons?

They didn’t look like the buttons you know, but still

“Nobody had managed to know what these objects do, so… it can be that much of bullshit”, said Theo, “besides we have to write like three parchments on it”

“I bef if difficult”, you muttered

“Have you got something in your mouth?” Why are you speaking so weird?”, asked Matt

“No reafon”, you said with heated cheeks, “my tongue hurfts”

“You should to to the infirmary”, said Theo

“No, ifs fine”, the roof of your mouth felt weird, that is where Professor Mcgonaggal had advised you to store your mandragora’s leaf, as the first part of your transition

But now you were moving it around in your mouth, it was tricky eating with it, more sleeping, you felt like you were going to choke and you were a bit scared, so you stick it tightly against your palate 

“Anyways, I bet I can find whatever this is before you both muggle-lovers”, he mocked

“Yeah sure, you don’t study for any classes and you are going to study for this?”, said theo. matt looked at you and then at Theo

“Wanna bet?”, he asked

“What do you want?”, he asked, interested, you exchanged looks between the three of you

He seemed like he wanted something in particular, his dark eyes shining with mischief

“If I win, we three are going to sneak into the prefects bathroom with me on the fifth floor”, you both frowned

“That’s weird, why would you want us both in there?”, you asked, and Theo looked at you like you were the dumbest thing on earth, but he didn’t say anything

“Well, if I win, Basilik is going to do my potions homework for two weeks, and Matthew is going to get me the Astronomy one”

“Fine”, said Matthew, and they both looked at you

“If I win, which I will…”, you didn’t even know what you wanted out of them, you wouldn’t trust them with your homework and you didn’t want to take baths with them. then it occurred to you, “I want you both to help me trap a Death’s head hawk moth and then morning dew”

“Those are almost impossible to fetch”, Theo said

“Hagrid had some of those moths”, you said, “he knows where they are, of course he is not going to let me have one, so we need to steal one”, you said with a pleased smile, “and then we need to sneak into the woods to get the dew by the river”

“Fine”, said Matthew

“Fine”, said Theo

You three “walked” hastily from one another. Ready to figure out what those objects were

You dissed the library, didn’t even consider it, and that was going to take you hours, so instead, you went straight to the source. 

But it took you a while to find the one you were looking for, until you reached the first floor, in the hallway around the inner courtyard, she was walking to her last class of the day

“Granger!”, you called, you saw the smartest witch in my generation flinch in front of me, she didn’t even had to turn around to know who was calling her name.

As you walked to reach her all the students in you way stepped aside pretty quickly, to you get to her, that had stopped in her tracks. Any other day, you would be happy at the fact that she grabbed her books tightly against her chest while she avoided eye contact, but not today… not when you needed something from her, so you just smiled politely

“You know everything about muggles”, it wasn’t a question

“You can’t never truly know everything…”

“You get my meaning”, you interrupted, “I wanted to ask you something, for academic purposes of course”, that seemed to lighten up her chocolate eyes as she looked at you, now more interested than fearful

“For what reason?”, she asked, a hint of mischief showing up in her eyes

“Academic ones”, you repeated

“Maybe I can help you…”, she said dismissively

“I want to know… what is the purpose of a little yellow rubber duck?”, you said clearly, but in a hushed tone, you didn’t want anyone else to hear you

“Uh?”, you knew she had listened, but the little witch probably thought she misheard or had lost her mind

“Arubberduck”, you said hastily, losing your already short patience

“Oh”, she said, shaking her head like that could make her clear his ideas, “The purpose of a muggle rubber duck is clearly…”

“BASILIK!”, you growled rolling my eyes when you heard my name being called by that annoying mouth, just as you were getting my awaited answer, you turned around to meet Theodore who walked towards you pointing with his finger and an accusation in his eyes, “that is cheating”

“Bug off Theodore you didn’t even know what I was talking about with Granger!”, you said defensively. Granger took the opportunity to slip away from you and you growled, exasperated. 

“We never said anything about asking anyone”, you said angrily.

So Matthew and you met again to discuss rules

Not asking anyone

“How am I to trust you both?”, you asked them both, “what if it's not in the library?”, you asked back, “its going to take us ages!”

“I can’t believe you are the one who wants to “cheat” on this”, laughed Theo

“I do not!”, you said defensively

“We have to rest of the semester to find this out”, muttered Matthew

“Very well then, let’s go together then”

And that is how you had a new study schedule 

[feverinfeveroutfic]

Tijuana sunrise | kinktober 2024 | day v.: “bluebonnets”

pairing: eric peterson x alex skolnick

prompt: sadism/masochism + c.b.t.

word count: 4646

song: “handful of rain” by savatage

There was a part of me that I never really wanted to share with anyone before, and something that I knew I would have to at some point or another, especially if I wanted to get close to someone. Especially if I wanted to get close to Alex.

I had set up a dragon’s lair in the spare room of my house, the room I always went to whenever I wanted some time to myself. I had a daughter and a girlfriend at that point, but I knew for a fact that I wasn’t ready for either of them as of yet. Sometimes, I just needed to retreat within myself, into my own scales and the sweep of my tail and the fire that resided inside of me.

I was getting heavier with time, and with the fact that I was a father at that point, and yet there was still a part of me that believed it was because I was part dragon. 

I was the dragon lord.

I knew that if I ran away and moved to another house, I was going to take my lair with me.

I was there on the bench against the wall with my hands rested on my knees, and I thought of getting up to go work out in the yard as it had warmed up a great deal in the last week or so with the induction of springtime. But then again, I found myself looking out the window to the fog bank still in place over the entire Bay Area. 

Winter wouldn’t quit, especially not for this dragon lord.

Alex just left so to speak. He left Testament and then the last I heard from him, his relationship fell apart shortly afterwards. Other than that, I hadn’t talked to him. I hadn’t seen him. He was one of the best friends I could ask for, such that I bought him beer when he was still eighteen and got to know his parents. And yet I never got closure with him.

He was out there somewhere. I still had his number saved, and I had his parents’ number, too, and as far as I knew, they all still lived in California. One of our last conversations before he left, he talked about getting out of Dodge and moving clear across the country to New York.

He was the glue. I was certain of it. He wanted a challenge for himself, but it came at such a cost, and for me and Chuck in particular. I wanted to call him.

I turned my head for a look across the room from me, to a little black book upon the shelf on the wall. I had had that book for years, such that I had completely forgotten what was in there. I hadn’t cracked it open since we had recorded The New Order. I could feel time slipping away around me once I realized that The New Order was six years ago. I never thought I would be at that point, either.

I probably should call him.

I was alone, too: my girls had both gone out together, and thus, I could do it without any questions asked. I walked on over to the shelf for that little book in question, and I cracked it open. And then I remembered this was an old journal I had taken with me on tour for the first two years of Testament being a legitimate touring band together.

I turned the first page to find our old phone numbers on the back of the paper.

I still had the same number. So did Chuck. Greg and Lou had long gotten new phones since we first started, and as far as I knew, Jerry and Arlene still lived in Berkeley and Alex was near there, as well.

I made my way back out of there to fetch the cordless phone. Antenna out and I dialed his number.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

“Hey, this is Alex. I’m either out doing a clinic or passed out somewhere, so do me a solid and leave a message. Thanks.”

My heart swelled at the mere sound of his warm, rounded, deep voice, like Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof. I could feel my hands shaking once the beep caught my attention.

“Hey, little bro, it’s Eric. Um… I don’t really know how to tell you this but I’ve been thinking about you lately. If you’re not busy, maybe you and I can do something together this weekend because… well, I miss you. I miss your voice and the way you held us together. Give me a call, I’ll be here.”

I hung up and closed my eyes. A part of me wanted to cry, but I had no tears within to do so.

I set the cordless down on the table, and I took a seat in the recliner chair with my gaze fixed up to the ceiling. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the two of us having some time together after nearly two years. I wasn’t going to be the first to admit that things were not going so well between the five of us when he left, and it was because of that I wished that I could make things right with him. All five of us young men who never really knew how to speak to one another despite being friends, and in hindsight it was only a matter of time before Alex told me he was leaving. Maybe I romanticized him a bit but he was like the sensitive poet of the five of us.

One weekend to make things right between me and him. One weekend to feel the inside of his heart.

At some point, I had drifted off and took a quick nap only to be woken up by the phone ringing. My eyes were blurry with sleep but I still ran into the kitchen for the cordless. I pulled up the antenna and pushed the button.

“Hello?”

“Eric?”

I paused.

“Alex?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a bit of crackle on his end. “What’s going on?”

“I miss you,” I confessed.

Silence on his end.

“I’m sorry, that’s too much,” I quipped.

“No, no, no, I’m just kind of… confused and taken aback, too,” he confessed. “I wasn’t really expecting you to call me.” He chuckled. “Um… you actually wanna get together this weekend?”

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders even though he couldn’t see me. “You and me, we’ll do something together.”

“I have a teaching session in Atlanta in a couple of weeks but yeah, I’m not doing anything this weekend. I’d love to. Do you still live in that little house in Oakland?”

“You know it,” I assured him.

“Okay! Um… yeah, I just got home from a recording session and I saw the light on the machine, and I was totally surprised when I heard your voice. I had to call you back immediately.”

“Who’re you recording with?” I asked him as I pressed a hand on my hip.

“Remember that band Savatage? We—Testament—toured with them about six years ago when The Legacy came out?”

“Oh, yeah, I remember those cats,” I said. 

“Their guitarist was killed by a drunk driver back in October and they needed a stand-in, so I put my hand up for the job.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, it’s got me all kinds of excited! The album is supposed to be out this summer and then we’re going on tour after that. I’ll tell you more about it when we get together this weekend. Want me to come over early in the morning for breakfast or later?”

“Definitely later,” I said. “I have a three-month-old baby now so later in the day is definitely the best.”

“Oh, wow.” A brief pause on his end. “Sounds like a lot’s happened since I jumped ship.”

“There really has,” I replied. “But let’s talk more later, though. I’ll be waiting for you.”

*

I dared not tell her about the black book and all the other things that I had found in there, nor did I tell her that I was meeting Alex, and a part of me couldn’t believe that I was having to lie to her about that, either. But I didn’t want her to worry, nor did I want her to object to that, either: neither of us had really left the house much in weeks so we had to spend some time away from each other. I had uncovered some old thoughts in that black book that made me take a step away from the dragon’s lair, as well. It was a chance to step away and reconnect for me.

All I said was I was going out and needed to be by myself for a while, and yet a huge part of me felt guilty saying that to her. But she showed me a smile and gave me a kiss on the side of the neck before she returned to our daughter’s room to check on her.

Thus was my cue.

I had on my black skinny jeans and a plain white shirt under a little black long-sleeved shirt with the big pockets to hide all my secrets from him, and all the while, I kept my hair tousled down around my shoulders and the sunglasses on my face. I moved about under the cold afternoon sun in cognito, like the dragon I was meant to be. I had called Alex again the day before to suggest where we would meet up together, and he told me to meet him at the old place where we used to jam together, when he was a teenage boy still in high school and I had just turned twenty-one so I could buy the two of us beer. It was one of the many parks in the whole Bay Area, and one that gave a look out to the water and was surrounded by bushes so we could have some privacy together.

He always guzzled down the beer with gusto back there, hence why he never got caught. But it was still adorable to think about how he would get so hammered after just half of a can, and I chuckled to myself from that.

The next bus to the park and I recognized him over by the trees. The fog began to come in again at that point, as did the subsequent chill in the air, but he sat down by the water’s edge, right under the biggest tree with the scraggly branches and the tiny buds that beckoned springtime for real at that point. He had grown out both his hair and his gray streak a bit more, but there was something else there, and more so as I came in closer to him.

I was feeling some things that I hadn’t felt since he was with us when I saw that fine layer of fuzz on his face. I had those feelings embedded inside of me, and yet I never found the chance to bring them out of me. How I missed that gray streak and those piercing eyes and those sharp features in junction with that full round face. That full round face made to look rounder with the first sprigs of a beard and a soft white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Man, you got all hairy, didn’t you?” I started once I came within earshot of him; I noticed he had the top three buttons undone to show off his chest hair and most of his chest.

“I really did,” he replied with a rub of his chin with those long, spindly fingers: I used to fantasize about those fingers worming their way down inside my pants and also down my throat. I opened my eyes for him, and he held me close to his body. It had been so long since I had gotten a nice little hug from him that I had nearly forgotten how he felt against me.

“What do you have in your pocket?” he asked me right into my ear.

“I’ll tell you later,” I replied once I let go of him and looked into those deep eyes.

“Tell me later after we’ve eaten,” he said with one hand on his stomach.

“Some things just never change,” I chuckled.

“Actually, if anything, I eat more now than I did when I was with you guys,” he told me. “And you know, I was a teenager back then, too.”

“Well, let’s chill out here by the water,” I suggested. “It’s been a hot minute since we hung out here together.”

We rounded the tree closest to the water, where we were met with the sight of the spindly bench, still intact and still standing against the edge of the water, and a sea of memories returned to me with a vengeance.

“Remember the first time I got drunk here?” he began.

“How could I forget?”

He took his seat on the farthest side from me, and then I tucked my hands into my shirt pockets. I had uncovered the hiding place in the black book, and I remembered that I had never told him or Chuck for that matter about my dragon ways.

I stayed there standing next to him, to which he looked up at me with his eyebrows raised.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked me.

“I have something to show you,” I confessed to him in a low voice. I wrapped my fingers around the rings and the spikes, and I wondered if he would be curious about it at all.

“That thing in my pocket you asked me about,” I told him, and I took it out of hiding. A pair of black metallic rings attached to either end of a scarlet red ribbon. It didn’t look like much but I knew what it was all about the very second I had brought it back out of hiding. He raised his eyebrows at it.

“I’m a little afraid to ask,” he confessed to me in a low voice.

I took the other thing out of my other pocket, a bottle of what I called “dragon lotion.” He never moved a muscle as I set it down on the bench next to him. Then there was the other thing in my initial pocket, and I had no memory of where it came from, either, but it was a pair of spiked black leather wristbands attached at the base. 

It was a pair of black metal handcuffs.

“Okay, I’m really afraid to ask,” he quipped to me again, and I showed him my tongue as I took my seat next to him there on the bench.

“Don’t be,” I assured him. “This is something I have considered for quite some time now as a side to Testament, to be in the dragon’s lair.”

“The dragon’s lair,” he echoed me, albeit at a slow pace.

“When you were with us, I was taken aback by the mere look of you,” I confessed to him. “You and I were like the best of friends, and the whole entire time, I never could tell you how I felt about you. We may have been best friends but we both had lives of our own, and the realm of touring only added to the feeling that I was restrained. And then you left. You told me you were going. I lost my glue. I lost my soulmate. With the loss of a soulmate came the start of the darkness. I let the shadows engulf me, and it was either take that as my armor or let it suffocate me.”

He shifted his weight on the spot, but I kept on going.

“I could feel the scales growing on me. The fire welling up within me. The wings ready to rip their way out from under my shoulder blades. Sometimes I feel a need to take a pair of scissors to my back just to let them out. All because I missed you.” I inched in closer to him, and I placed the tools except for the lotion on my lap. “I miss you. But nothing could deny the raging flames that I feel in here.” I pointed to my chest, but I glanced down at the rest of my body. Alex swallowed, and I knew that I had crossed a line of sorts. I inched away from him to give him some breathing space, and I pointed my gaze to the cool, calm water before me.

We held there in silence for what felt like several minutes at a time, and we listened to the water lapping before us. It was bad enough that I had the worst time trying to say any of that sort of thing to my girlfriend, but I knew for a fact that I had scared off Alex without even so much as scaring him off.

“You know, I recently adapted the nickname of ‘the Snake Charmer,’” he confessed, and in such a way that his voice sliced through the silence around us.

“‘The Snake Charmer,’ I like that,” I told him. “I like that a lot, actually. It sounds more dangerous than the dragon lord. Any reason why?”

“Savatage has a song called ‘Taunting Cobras’ on this new album that I’m on, and my inclusion almost feels like I just beckoned something out of the blue, like someone coaxing a cobra out of the weave basket.”

“The dragon and the snake,” I followed along, and I turned my attention to him, to the crown of his head accentuated by the late afternoon sunlight. I was getting hungry, and I knew for a fact that he was as well, but first things were first as always. I curled one finger around the ribbon with the rings.

“The dragon restraining the snake,” I muttered.

“Or the snake restraining the dragon,” he retorted. I lifted my gaze to him and those piercing blue eyes. Those eyes with the cool blue water right next to us. The Komodo dragon with the black mamba in the thick of a field of bluebonnets.

“You know, Eric, I should probably tell you that… I have always seen you the same way,” he confessed. “I just never really had the chance to come out and say it to you straight up. You know, I never thought it to be true, and even if it was, I couldn’t figure out as to how to tell you about it. Like I could be seen as sick or something.”

“You know, I feel the same way,” I assured him. “Surrounded by sickness and mountains of cocaine… yeah, I can understand why you and I are both afraid. But… we are alone here, though.”

“Indeed, we are,” he said, and he glimpsed over his shoulder. Given it was nearly evening at that point, no one bothered to come to the park, which meant we had the place to ourselves.

“I should probably tell you that you look really sexy with a beard,” I confessed, and he returned his gaze to me right as a thin wisp of gray hair swept over the side of his face and down over his nose.

“And I should probably tell you that you look really good being all chubby,” he retorted, and then he chuckled at that. He inched closer to the ribbon and the handcuffs.

“You know, this whole time being in a touring band, I still haven’t gotten some yet,” he confessed, and my mouth dropped open at that.

“You’re still a virgin?”

And he nodded his head at that.

“And if I’m honest, it’s particularly lonely, especially at our age,” he admitted in a near whisper, which meant I had a job to do right then.

“The world is asleep, Alex,” I whispered to him.

“It’s about to sleep,” he told me. “Which means we have time. Show these to me and what they’re all about.”

I was nervous, especially when I had known that I would have to reveal the leather and scales to him as well as Chuck at some point, anyway. It was bad enough that I had plenty of difficulty in revealing it to my girlfriend, and I had no idea how to break it to her when I broke on through to her and she told me she was pregnant.

I never did shoot too many blanks, but when I looked on at him and his beautiful little body, I knew that I was going to be playing Russian roulette here.

But I could see the fear in his eyes: the eyes told me one thing, but his body said everything that I needed to know right then.

I had the tail and the breath of fire to give him what for, to give him what I hoped he would love. I was going to hoist this boy by the balls and trick him with the feeling of pain. He and I were brothers, and we both raged on together. The pain raged on inside of us, and thus I knew it was going to be a bloodbath between us.

When I let him burn, I was going to let him let me burn afterwards. If he wanted to be hurt, then I wanted to be right there with him. To the pain.

I reached behind me to the bottle of lotion, to which I unscrewed the cap and gave him a little bit about the size of a hazelnut. I gave myself some, right onto my hands and up my arms.

“So I just put this on my arms like this?” he asked me.

“You know it,” I told him. “It’ll stop chafing dead in its tracks.” We were met with the smell of pine as well as leather courtesy of the lotion, and then I picked up the handcuffs. 

“Stand up,” I commanded him, and he sank down to the grass instead.

“Didn’t Mama Skolnick teach you not to play with matches?”

“She did, as a matter of fact,” he scoffed with a little twinkle in his eye. “Didn’t Mama Peterson teach you not to go swimming after you just ate?”

“Hell yeah, she did,” I retorted back to him, and I grabbed his wrist and snapped on one handcuff. The spikes were pointed and sharp, and I knew that he would have hell of a time trying to break out of them. I hoisted him up off the ground and led him to the tree behind us, and yet he resisted it like the brat he was.

“Don’t make me punish you, you naughty boy,” I quipped to him, and he raised his eyebrows at me again.

“Where did that come from?” he asked me.

“I don’t really know, but it felt good.” I forced his arm up towards the tree branch over our heads, and then I forced his other arm up. I leaned into his body, with my belly up against his washboard stomach, as I struggled to strap him into the other handcuff.

“Soft and you smell good,” he remarked.

“So do you,” I said; the little click over our heads coaxed a smirk out of the both of us.

“I just wonder why you don’t go down on me the regular way,” he confessed as I held back for a better look at him suspended from the tree.

“‘Cause I’m a pig, that’s why,” I retorted to him.

“I thought you were a dragon,” he said as he extended his legs out before him. The branch supported him, which was good news for me in particular. I reached behind me for the ribbon. We were still alone when I took off his pants and his little shorts for him. I made a loop with the ribbon and kept the rings together so I could make a half hitch upon his dick.

I slipped the loop through the rings and tightened it.

“This is for leaving me—”

I took the loop and wrapped it around his shaft a second time. He barred his teeth as I tightened the ribbon around him and slipped it through the rings a second time.

“This is for not telling me the truth until—just—now—!”

Another loop around him and his skin tightened up near the head. I leaned into his face and the delirious look upon it there.

“And this is for being such a sexy motherfucker who still has yet to explore the snakeskin within,” I whispered right into his face.

He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let out a soft groan.

I looked down to see the pearls of precum balanced on the tip of his head, and I had a feeling that I could make him give some more. I turned back to the bench for the lotion.

And he kicked me. I fell ass over tea kettle into the water. Sputtering and spitting out water, I rolled over to see him swinging off the branch like a big monkey. He threw himself at me with the handcuffs out before him.

I gasped for air as strands of hair stuck to my face and my lips. I couldn’t see but I could feel him sitting his bare ass on my chest. I coughed and looked up at the curled ends of his black hair which cascaded over his shoulders towards his waist. I couldn’t see his face but I could feel him undoing my pants, even while handcuffed. The spikes grazed against my skin: they were not as sharp as I expected, but they were enough to send a rush of blood through me.

Those long fingers down inside the hole of my dick. Spikes in my skin. Water cradled around me like I was undergoing a baptism.

I tilted my head back and shrieked out with my head partially underwater. I wished I could breathe fire because he brought out the rage of the dragon right then, and it could be a proper dance of fire and water.

I raised my head out of the water just to find him staring back at me with a mischievous grin on his face.

“God, you—you bastard,” I sputtered, and I burst out laughing.

“Nah, you’re the bastard,” he retorted, and then he gave me another swipe of a spike before he stood up off me. I climbed up behind him and helped him untie the ribbon from his dick, and I wanted to laugh at the fact that he and I were still standing in the water. Luckily, I only had a few red marks on my dick: I wasn’t bleeding but it still hurt and it hurt so bad that it felt like everything I needed right then. It felt like everything he needed as well.

“Okay, now… how do I get out of these?” Alex showed me the handcuffs.

“I just… click ‘em open like this.” I held onto the side of the right cuff to feel the button. It came off with a soft click, and he flexed his fingers. I let him do the other one himself, and then we padded out of the water together. I was drenched, but his feet and seat of his pants were the only things that had gotten wet. And luckily for the two of us, the sun hung low at that point. If nothing else, I could bring a tiramisu home to her and a chocolate chip cookie for my daughter.

“Not a word to anyone,” he vowed to me.

“Not a word,” I whispered to him. “You wanna get some tacos?”

“I would love some tacos,” he replied.

[millylotus]

I've also noticed people tagging Duke & him just straight up not being in the fic/post it's so annoying! Anyway I have a "couple" recs

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Duke Thomas and His Magical Magical Sunshine Hugs by the_dreary_fandom_whore

“Do I…really hug you guys that much?” “The amount of hugs you give in only a day is insurmountable.” So here’s the thing. Duke Thomas is a cuddler. He’s not a cuddler like Stephanie who pounces on people at impromptu times with her overexcited affections and extreme strength. He does not hug or cuddle like Dick who only knows how to wrap people up in extravagant and impactful hugs that drain every bit of breath from their lungs and makes them feel happy for as long as they last. No, Duke’s hugs are gentle and caring and magical.

Fic isn't really from Duke's perspective but it is nice to see Duke from everyone else's perspective. Kinda leans into the sweetheart Duke thing.

---

How to be Brothers with the Family Cryptid - a guide by Duke Thomas by sunlitlemonade

A series of fics that follow Duke and Jason as they become brothers.

A series of three oneshots, mainly from Duke's perspective. Very sweet to see Duke having a healthy relationship with Jason.

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the early robin gets the worm by deargalileo

bruce loves all of his children equally. its just when he has to wake them up, that there's an issue. aka; the five times bruce tries to wake up his kids, and the one time that he doesn't.

Duke is part 3, it's short but sweet but I like it.

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Can I sleep with you tonight? by LiaVid0921

Bruce thought he had grown out of hearing those words. He forget that he had a few more kids still in the nest.

Duke & Damian get scared & cuddle up to Bruce. So cute & sweet

---

Moth to a Flame by professorwho26

Duke and Damian are experimenting with Duke's light powers when they run into (literally) a curious person. Could it be love at first light? I'm so sorry for that pun. This fic was inspired by this post: POST

A fic from the one time when people started shipping Duke with a moth cause he glows. Genuinely pretty sweet

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signal, n. a divine act by britishparty

The halo gets brighter the more people that Duke saves. He’s pretty sure that’s how it works, at least. He inherited it from his mother the day the doctors suggested it as a possibility: we may not be able to help them, Mr. Thomas. Duke doesn’t know what he is. He doesn’t feel like an angel; he has no divine purpose, no holy weapons, nothing but this stubborn light. But he looks at Robin and some part of him thinks I could do that, too and the halo, deep in his blood, sings. - or: an AU concept in which Duke's powers stem from the 10th metal: pure celestial possibility. he inherits a halo that has its own idea of Good and Evil.

I like the writing of this fic it's all poetic & stuff.

---

It All Started On A Cold Winter Morning by Varmint

When he had first opened his door up on the cold morning, he certainly had not been expecting a blast from the past; much less had he expected to find himself wrapped up into the familial drama of a bunch of people he had no real ties to half a country away. He wasn't about to lie to himself, though. It was real nice being around a big family again; no matter how many arguments broke out between them. Or. That story in which events are set into motion unexpectedly and when the Batfamily figures out about Bruce's budding feelings for a handsome cowboy, they force everything into high-gear.

Not technically Duke-centric but he is the main focus of the first chapter. Also it isn't complete & a rare pair of Bruce x Greg Saunders, actually really cool.

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you can ebb and i can flow by konan_konan for Pseudonymous_Elusa

“What’s your name?” "Batman," he startles when Duke laughs louder than he really meant to. “What kind of a name is that?” he giggles, wiping a stray tear from his eye. "Isn't that an animal?" or: bruce saves a helpless merman and gets bullied relentlessly for it. Batfamily Week Day 5: KING’S GUARD Fantasy AU | Friendship/Team Bonding | “There’s more of you?!”

Mermaid!Duke ends up Kidnapped and Batman comes to help him. It's a sweet hurt-comfort with some superbat on the side.

---

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype by PepperSoniRoni

5 Times Duke Tried To Prove To Bruce He Wasn't The Responsible One, and 1 Time His Siblings Knew Better (& used it to their advantage) Because Duke is relatively new, he hasn't opened up completely to the family. He tries to follow Bruce and Alfred's rules, but he doesn't always succeed (nor try to). It's during these times Bruce still manages to pin the blame on someone else. His siblings, of course, see this. And whatever are they supposed to think? Well, Duke's clearly doing it on purpose! (This is really just me being salty about fanon characterization, and an attempt to cram as much Crazy-Totally-Not-Sane-Duke as I can into a single fic)

Really funny fic of Duke pulling the most outrages of pranks. Actually kinda made me smad at the end cause Bruce never did fully believing Duke.

---

signaling home by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep

Quietly, he trudged towards the main Cave, keeping alert. At a sudden noise, his hand twitched towards his kama, but it was just a bat screeching far above. As he reached the main area, he slowed, tucking himself behind a convenient stalagmite. Three figures stood in the desolation of the Batcave - Duke was still fairly far away, but he could still recognize his older brothers. Jason stood farther away from the duo of Dick and Tim, twirling a gun around one finger. Dick’s arms were crossed, and he was looking down to talk to Tim, who was crouched to look at something on the ground. A pebble shifted under Duke’s foot, and he looked away for a second. When he looked back, all three heads had shifted unerringly in his direction. Well, fuck.

A funny little oneshot of Duke dimension hopping, it's weird & funny & Duke is having a... time.

---

Yellowman by unstablequeerbitch

Basically Duke scares people because he fights during the day in gotham. that isnt normal

Duke's day time wandering scares the shit out of people, funny short one.

---

As you can tell I was very anxious for someone to ask for Duke Thomas recs. He is our sunshine boy & he deserves to be appreciated.

Absolutely wild to me how people will write Duke out of stories and give bits of his character to other members of the Batfamily. I've seen this happen the MOST with Tim. And it's not a crime to write a fic without Duke in it— not every piece of writing needs every member of the Batfamily in it— but come on. Sometimes it's so painfully obvious that authors are only excluding him.

Anyways <3 please comment or reblog with your favorite Duke Thomas fics so I can kiss you

[rosemaryandarsenic]

Can't Stop Thinking About You

pairing| Gareth Emerson x female reader

readersynopsis| Shameless smut involving virgin Gareth and his best friend

warnings|SMUT! 18+ only as always, minors DNI. TW: Abuse. Includes a little bit of hurtxcomfort, fingering, oral sex, protected sex, and dirty talk! and cursing. The characters are both 18 and about to graduate HS.

AN: This was supposed to be short but it's not lmao. ty to Anon for the request!!! I took some liberties around the concept of virginity and gave the reader sub/brat vibes even though they're the more experienced ones in this situation. Hope you like it!!

The rain outside is tapping softly against the window pane as Gareth lays in bed, the only light in the room coming from the full moon tonight. It’s nearly one in the morning, and he has yet to fall asleep. He’s been tossing and turning thinking about the night before, unable to control the repetitive thought running through his mind. You’re in the same room, on top of him with your boobs free and bouncing, absolutely sex drunk. There are flyway hairs sticking to your cheeks and a smug grin on your face as you lean in and balance yourself with both hands on his chest. He can’t stop picturing it, the shape of your lips in a little “o”, the movement of your hips. The memory makes him groan, shifting again as he resists the urge to jerk off. He just wants you again. This realization had followed him all through the day, as he struggled to sit through his classes. At lunch, you’d slid into your spot at the lunch table near Eddie and tangled your feet between his. The touch was both a relief and a struggle. He’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom because he’d nearly cum his pants.

It wasn’t that he’d never been touched by a girl before, no, he’d been kissed and held hands and even gotten a blow job once (it barely counted because her parents had come home before they’d done anything else). It was that no girl had driven him mad like this before. You two had been friends for years since 8th grade when you’d moved three houses down from him, and the moment he’d met you he knew he had a thing for you. But he’d convinced himself it would be weird to like someone in the friend group, so he settled for the next best thing - friendship. It was a solid one, with lots of late nights playing video games and talking about school. Plenty of shared car rides and high-school parties. He’d known both of your boyfriends, knew who your first kiss was. It was pleasant, you listened to the same music, and liked the same movies. He was fine watching you from afar, despite feeling a bit creepy for noticing the way your body moved when you danced or how your boobs grew bigger sophomore year. Then, in Junior year it all changed. One night you’d shown up at his doorstep at 2 am, shivering in shorts and a t-shirt during mid-winter, sobbing. Your parents were fighting and your dad had slammed your mom against the wall knocking her unconscious before storming out of the house. You’d called the cops, and your grandmother, and as they all left you’d insisted - “I want to stay with Gareth, I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

His parents had welcomed you with open arms, and extra blankets. He remembered the look on his mother's face when he’d knocked on her bedroom door and explained. A knowing look shared between her and him, the remembrance of the before times when his dad had done the same. Before they’d left their old town and before she met Greg, his boring but genuine, safe step-dad. Without hesitation, his mom had gotten up, made tea, and grabbed the girl a set of fresh clothes. She would be welcome here any time of day or night, emergency or not. The rules had never changed.

After that, Gareth had been by your side through every step of the divorce. He’d babysat your siblings, carried your mom's groceries, and talked with you well into the night on the phone. He refused to admit that it brought out his old feelings, deepened them in fact. You are y/n, and you are his best friend - that is all. Except it wasn’t. You had almost always felt the same, convincing yourself he only saw you as a friend, perhaps as you grew closer - a sibling. Your second boyfriend had taken your virginity, and you’d filled the void after he was gone with random flings, always in the back of your mind that curly-haired boy with the freckles and pretty smile. As senior year approached, you’d grown more and more anxious at the idea that Gareth would be far away. You’d promised yourself that if you both were single by graduation, you’d tell him. Get it out of the way before you both started the next chapter. This was until you’d found out the news. 

“I don’t wanna open this fucking envelope,” he flopped down next to you on the sofa, holding a large paper envelope with college lettering on the front. 

“Big envelopes are good! My acceptance letter came like that.” You chide, eyeing the package to see who it was from. “Purdue?” You asked, smiling at him. 

He grinned, “I told you I applied, dufus. Can’t let you take all the stupid with you to college.”

You laugh, urging him to open it as he takes his sweet time tearing the envelope open. 

“Patience is a virtue, Y/N.” He chuckles. 

“Last time I checked I am not a virtuous person, Gare.” You reply, grabbing it and ripping it open, before handing it back. “Read it.”

He slid the the contents out, scanning the letter inside as his face turned red. “Oh shit.”

“What?!” You crane your neck to try and read it too, your stomach turning. 

He leans it towards him, blocking your view and smirking, “Patience.”

“Gareth Emerson,” you holler, grabbing the sheet out of his hands, “SHOW ME.”

He lets you read for a moment and smiled widely as you jump up and down, “You’re in!!!! Gareth!!” 

His mom turns the corner and her eyes widen as you fling the paper her way, “Mrs. Emerson!! Look!!”

She gets just as excited, grabbing Gareth into a tight hug, and you watch them talk excitedly as a thought crosses your mind. You and Gareth are going to college together. It tumbles around as you process it, a moment passing as you let it hit you. Oh god. Gareth is going to Purdue too. How can you possibly tell him now?

…

A month had passed, April turning to May as classes rolled to a close. There was a week left of school, and everyone was on the edge of their seats. One more week till freedom. Y/N stood at her locker, balancing books in one hand as she fought her lock with the other. Gareth had been on his way to help, noticing the precarious position of her science textbook when the hem of her shirt had rolled up a bit and caught his gaze. A shiny crystal skull adorned her belly button, shimmering against the hall lights, and he froze. A belly ring? Oh my god. Snapping out of it, he grabbed her book just as it fell, her locker springing open. 

“Jesus Christ, I hate this fucking thing. Thank you.” You mumble, grabbing the text book from his hands and smiling at him before you turn back to grab your flannel out of the locker. 

You walk together as the halls fill with students leaving for the end of the day. 

“I can’t believe this is our last Monday here.” You say, grabbing the edge of his vest to keep from getting pulled apart in the crowd. “It’s going to be so weird to not come back after the weekend.”

“Can’t fucking wait.” He nods back, smiling. 

The car ride home is quick, Gareth opting for Metallica with the windows rolled down. He admires the way you close your eyes and let the breeze blow through your hair. You blink, catching him stare at you in the rearview mirror. 

“Hi.” You say softly.

“Hi.” He says back, eyes back on the road.

The rest of the drive is calm, your thoughts spinning as Gareth pulls into his driveway and you tumble out of the car. 

As is tradition, you settle onto the living room floor with your homework while Gareth grabs a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and switches on the TV. He crashes on the sofa, and you settle between his legs as you zone in on the last bit of assignments you have. It doesn’t take long before you’re done and you’re both watching the screen, static crossing over once and awhile as you snuggle in. The closeness makes your body warm, and you push it down. Maybe you should just tell him and get it over with now, since summer is only a week away. Three months to let the awkwardness fade didn’t sound so bad, and you knew your friendship was stronger than that. It's fine, you repeat to yourself. 

“What’s fine?” Gareth asks, and you wince, not realizing you'd said it out loud. 

“Uh, nothing.” You wave your hand, “Nothing.”

He leans over you, not letting it go. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying!” You say defensively, as he pulls your ponytail. 

“I don’t know if you know this but I can tell,” he chuckles, “you have a tell.”

“I do not.” You groan, trying to cover the blush on your cheeks. Tell him. 

“You absolutely do.” He laughs, “Your ears go red.”

You throw your hands over your ears, face burning. TELL HIM.

“Spill.” He says, pulling his leg over you as he slides down on the ground next to you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“Um. I-I don’t know how too.” You whisper, a lump in your throat. Am I actually doing this now? Your stomach turns, and you feel queasy. Come on, it's just Gareth. He’ll forgive you. 

“Tell me,” he chides, “you tell me everything, y/n, it can’t be that bad.”

“Not everything.” You whisper, your voice barely audible, squeaking.

He gives you a serious look now, frowning. “What is it, you’re freaking me out.”

He doesn’t let on but his own heart is pounding. It can’t possibly be what he’s hoping for, but…the way you look right now is hard to brush off. Your whole face is red, and you’re looking at him through your lashes, eyes watering. 

“I like you,” you blurt out, slapping your hand over your mouth as quickly as the words came out and staring straight ahead. Your stomach is in your mouth now. I’m fucked.

He’s staring at you and you can feel it. I am so fucked.

“You…you what?” He asks, mouth slightly ajar.

You shake your head, shaking a little. 

He slides in front of you, prying your hands from your face. “Say it again, please.”

You stare at him, your hands together still, unable to hide the burn in your face. “I like you.”

He blinks a few times as you stutter on, “I like you and I wanted to tell you sooner, but I freaked out and now I…” You trail off. He looks absolutely dumb struck, and you don’t know what else to say. Instead of speaking you do what comes more naturally, you lean in and kiss him. Your lips brush the corner of his mouth and he lets out a little sigh as you pull your face away. 

“Gareth can you please say something.” You beg, hands still in his. 

He doesn’t, instead he pulls you back in, kissing you harder this time. His lips are so soft, and warm, and you lean into it happily.

“I. Like. You. Too.” He says, in between kisses, and you’re struggling to breath as you pull him into you, practically on top of you. The anxiety gives way to excitement, bubbling in your stomach as he groans into your mouth, his hands sliding behind your neck and pulling your face to his. You’ve dreamed of this, unable to process anything besides the feeling of him against you. Your skin is electric, warm with the pressure of his hands all over you. He pulls away, a small string of spit connecting your mouths, and you giggle, wiping his chin with your sleeve. 

“Hi,” you whisper again.

“Hey,” he says back, eyes running over your face. He’s red now too, cheeks blossoming with color and lips slightly parted. Feeling more confident now, you grab his shirt and kiss his neck, trailing kisses down his jaw. He’s moaning a little, tilting his head so you can access the soft skin of his collarbone. Your hands roam, under his shirt, feeling the happy trail above the seam of his boxers. You moan this time, kissing his lips again as you feel him start to get hard, cock pressing through his jeans and against your leg. 

“Y/N, hey, wait.” He whines, grabbing your wrist. 

You panic and pull back, “Are you okay? Did I do-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “You’re fine, pretty,” he kisses your cheek. “I just uh…I haven’t…”

He looks at you, trying to find the words. You nod, encouraging him to go on.

“I’m technically still a virgin.” He says, shifting uncomfortably. 

“I thought you..um, I thought Sarah Lyland gave you head?” You look at him confused. 

“That’s it,” he laughs a little. “And it was…um, there was alot of teeth.”

You look at him, horrified. “Teeth?”

“Teeth.” He nods, laughing at your expression. 

“I am going to fix that.” You say, dead serious. 

His eyes widen, “There’s no pressure.”

“I want to,” you shake your head adamantly. “If you’re okay with it, I want to so bad.” You say. Your mouth is watering a little at the idea and you glance down at the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Is that a yes?” You grin, and he nods, blushing again as you kiss him on the cheek. 

You stand, and offer him a hand, pulling him up as he says, “You don’t have to ask me twice.” 

You giggle, turning to go upstairs. “Is anyone home?”

He shakes his head, “My sisters are at a sleepover tonight and my mom and dad are going to be out late for date night.”

“Good,” you smirk, pulling him upstairs towards his room. “I don’t want to be quiet.”

His eyes widen at your comment, quickly following you up the stairs, practically slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

“Force of habit,” he grins, seeing you raise your eyebrow.

“You have to lock your door very often?” you say in a snarky tone, batting your eyes at him as you pull him into you. 

“M-maybe.” He stutters, leaning in to kiss you again, his tongue running in between your lips as you sigh into his mouth. 

“Naughty boy. What do you think about?” you ask, slowly running your hand down his chest and towards his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans.

His cheeks are beet red, as he stammers, “You.”

You smile happily, kissing his jaw again as you slide his pants to the floor and let him kick off his shoes. 

“What about me?” You moan, as he trails kisses down your jaw, his dick pressing into you through his boxers. He’s fully showing now, his pants tented around him as he attacks your neck. 

“I-I like the way your nipples look through your shirt,” he says breathlessly, gasping as you palm his erection. “And the way you look in that plaid miniskirt.” He groans, trying not to thrust into your hand. He’s never felt this good before, your hands slide around him perfectly and he feels like he’s going to melt. "Also your new belly ring." He grins, making you giggle.

You pull away, lifting the hem of his shirt and pulling it off of him, tossing it to the side.

“Go sit for me baby,” you whisper, unbuttoning your own pants and sliding them off. 

He complies, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights as he gingerly sits down on his mattress, watching you slowly pull your shirt over your head, giving him a show. 

You’d opted to wear a lacy bra under your Led Zeppelin shirt, thankfully, and he was slack jawed at the sight of you, practically drooling. 

You slide down to your knees in front of him, trailing kisses down his torso as your hands pull at the waist of his boxers. You pull them off, leaving them pooled at his feet as you admire his cock. It’s average length, but he’s girthy. A long vein runs down the underside and you can see his balls nestled in a little bush of light brown hair. Pretty. He’s seeping at the tip, pink and twitchy as you gaze up at him with a little grin. Slowly, you take him in your hands and lick him from the bottom of the shaft to the tip, circling him with your tongue. He’s watching you intently, mouth slightly open, panting already as he takes in the sight of you playing with his cock. You tease a little longer, hands massaging his balls as you carefully spit onto his tip, sliding him into your mouth. He’s a mess and you’ve barely touched him, throwing his head back as you begin to bob up and down, taking him deep into your throat and twisting with your hands. 

“J-Jesus christ,” he whimpers, grabbing at the sheets on his bed, unable to look at you for more than a second. He edges himself a lot, but nothing has EVER felt like this. “I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.” He groans, trying to push your face away. “Y/N, I cant-“, you ignore him, taking him deeper in your throat and looking up at him with doe eyes. He’s shaking, straining, trying not to cum embarrassingly fast but you don’t care. You want to see him cum, want to taste it. You flatten your tongue now, pushing him into the back of your throat and gagging on him. It sends him over the edge and he cums hard, moaning so loud you’re pretty sure the entire neighborhood can hear him. You let him release it all, slowly pulling back with a pop as you swallow, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. There’s drool all over his legs, a trail connecting your face and his cock, making you smile. He’s staring at you speechless, still twitching. 

“How was that?” You ask, giggling a little as he just stares at you. 

“I think I just died and went to heaven.” He pants. “I’ve never…you felt…”

You giggle again, standing and running your hands through his curls, kissing his forehead. 

“I told you I’d fix it.” 

“Fix it? That didn’t even compare, baby.” He looked up at me hungrily, “You’re a goddess.” 

You laugh loudly, shaking your head, and he pulls you onto his lap. 

You straddle him, and kiss his sweaty cheeks, running your fingers through his hair again.

“My turn,” he whispers in your ear, and you feel him slide his hands under your ass. 

“I uh, I will not be as good as you but if you don’t mind helping…I want to eat you out.” He holds onto you tightly, waiting for your reply. 

“Gladly,” you grin. “If it makes you feel better, no ones ever done it so…so we can figure it out together.”

“Never?” He pulls back, looking shocked. You shake your head, blushing.

“I’m gonna fix that.” He grins and you giggle again, crawling off his lap and sliding out of your underwear. He watches you, reaching to touch the skin of your hips and running a finger along your torso. 

“You’re….you're so…” he whispers, uncertainly running his hand toward your folds.

“You’re so beautiful,” he finishes, letting a finger slide into you as you stand there, making you whimper. You’re wet from the slow burn, aching for more, and he notices. Still unsure of himself, he pulls you in closer and you mewl as he palms at your pussy messily. You grind your hips into his hand and he smiles before pulling away and laying you down on the bed. Settling himself between your legs, he runs his hand up your thighs and sighs. Last week you’d worn fishnets and he’d be unable to stop staring, aching to touch your legs. The way your thighs pushed through the netting, rubbing against each other - it drove him insane. Leaning down he littered kisses inside your thighs, grabbing at the skin and digging his fingers into the flesh as you squirmed happily under the affection. 

You reached down, lifting his chin as he looked up at you, a little pussy drunk. “This is where I want you,” You motion, fingers falling from his chin and down to your clit. Unable to control yourself, you rubbed yourself a little, and he smacked your hand away. Gently, scared to hurt you, he dove head first into your folds, tongue circling around the spot you showed him. You cried out, hands flying to his hair and he pulled away, worried. Not letting him get a word out, you pulled his face back to you, and he chuckled as he realized your cries were happy ones. The vibrations drove you wild, his nose nudging into you as he lapped at your pussy, your core tightening at the friction. With shocking smoothness, he slid a finger into you again as he lapped away, and you ground up against his face, the edges of your vision starting to blur. He’s humping the bed, hard again at the view of you unraveling around his face between your thighs. You’re pulling at his hair desperately, and he moans into you, sending you spiraling over the edge. You came as hard as he had, feeling your slick coat your legs and his face, and he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out like a starving man with his last meal, until you’re begging him to stop, your legs shaking violently. He pulls away, giving you a goofy smile, his curls sticking to his forehead as he watches you come down from your high. 

“How was that?” He asks, still rubbing your legs. You pant, trying to catch your breath.

“Can’t feel my legs.” You giggle and he grins broadly, kissing your torso. 

“Good.”

Ignoring the mess on his face, you pull him in to kiss you again and he slams into you, humping you softly as you kiss deeply. Your legs instinctively wrap around him and you break the kiss as you realize something. 

“Do you, uh, have any condoms?” You ask, and he nods, shyly, pulling away from you to grab them.

“Just in case.” He chuckles, rummaging through his desk drawers as you sit up, unclasping your bra. He looks over, pausing to watch your boobs fall free, and you can see his cock twitch. He hurriedly pulls the rubber out of the plastic, and you motion for him to come over. 

“Let me do it,” you say, sliding it down onto him and rolling it down as he grunts at your touch.

“I want to ride you,” you demand, standing and pushing him onto the bed. He laughs, letting you, and stops abruptly as you climb on top of him. 

He’s taking in all of you now, hands on your hips as you slide down onto him. He grunts as he bottoms out, head back and mouth open as he feels you. 

“Holy shit.”

You’re too cock hungry for him to reply, pulling his hands to your chest as he grabs at you, massaging your boobs and moaning as you begin to grind your hips. 

“Feel so good, so good.” He’s mewling, grasping at you as you get faster, starting to feel another orgasm building in your core. 

You gasp and moan, incoherently riding him into the bed, pushing him deeper into the mattress as you pant. 

“Y/N.” He’s whining, saying your name over and over, and it pushes you over the edge. Your pussy clenches around him and your legs shake, tears streaming down your face as you push your hands to his chest for balance and keep riding. 

“Cum, Gareth, please cum.” You beg, “I wanna feel you cum.” 

You’re an absolute whining mess above him, mascara running, head tossed back. He ruts into you, pulling you into a hug as he thrusts into you. He can feel you seize around him, his thrusts getting sloppy, and faster. He cries out your name again as he cums, cock pumping into you and twitching so hard you can feel it. You stay like that, gasping into his neck and peppering kisses on his jaw as you both come down from your highs. Neither of you wants to move, and you don’t until he finally starts to soften inside of you. 

You roll off him, completely wiped out and snuggle into his side, nuzzling your face into his chest. 

“Your socks are still on.” You giggle, and he laughs, both of you giddy and fucked out. 

Eventually he slides you out of his arms and stumbles out of bed, throwing the condom in the trash and pulling on a pair of pajama pants. 

“Sorry about your sheets.” You mumble with a smile, blushing. 

He shrugs, “I’ll wash them every day if you keep doing that.” And plants a kiss on your forehead, pulling you back into his arms and pulling the blanket over the two of you. 

…

Gareth smiles at the memory, the clock now blinking at 1:30 am. Fuck it, he thinks, climbing out of bed and pulling on a hoodie and shoes. He tucks a condom in his pocket. I’m waking her up. He reaches for the lock on the window and nearly jumps out of his skin as a rock hits the pane. Opening it slowly, he leans out and tries not to laugh. You’re standing on the lawn in your pajamas, smiling, holding a sheet of paper with sharpie sprawled across it. “Basement window?” It says, and he nods, pulling himself back inside and carefully down the stairs, where he slides open the glass panels and watches you drop in. You turn, taking in his clothes, and giggling. 

“Where are you headed?” You whisper.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He grins. 

[creepling]

i want to hold you - greg hirsch x gn!reader

summary: greg pays a visit to his old college friend, feeling the stress of work and family struggles. more specifically, he is in desperate need for comfort, and the reader longingly provides.

pairing: gregory hirsch x gn!reader

word count: 2.4K

warnings: mild drug mention, mild use of alcohol.

It is not often you get a frantic phone call from your old college friend. I hadn't spoken to Gregory Hirsch since our graduation, and yet he still had my phone number back when I use to buy weed off him. I didn't know whether to be flattered or creeped out; I liked the idea of him still remembering me. Sure, I am aware he is related to one of the most wealthiest families in America -- if not the world -- since he liked to bring it up randomly to new aquaintences back in the day. When we graduated, he said he was going to go off and work for the Roys; make the big bucks and become one of those coke-sniffing, pin-striped suit pricks that run the world. Yet, when Greg called me at almost midnight, he didn't sound that well off. He sounded desperate. So, I let my sympathy get the best of me and invited him to my house.

He arrived at my apartment an hour later, his suit was wrinkled and his long winter coat was damp from the dribbles of rain. He had a frantic look on his face, his fingers combed through his slick, wet hair.

"(Y/N)!" He gave me a smile, and as if contagious, I smiled back at him.

"Greg, hey. Come on in." I made sure to be quiet at this hour, peaking my eyes out the to hallway to watch for nosey neighbours.

Greg made his way inside, kicking his pointed, fancy dress shoes at my door, grunting under his breath. He rubbed his foot and twirled his ankles, he must have been running, or walking for miles. The more distressed I seen him, the more curious I was of what he was up to.I invited him to sit on the couch. "Sorry for the mess, if I knew you were coming earlier I would have made time to clean"

Greg scanned the walls of my apartment admirely, shaking his head. "No no, don't worry. I like your place. It's uh- homey; welcoming; it's n-nice."

I tried to hide my smile at his demeanor, it was good to see he was still his awkward self. In college, that made him a target for crude pranks and bullies, but I always found it quite redeeming. Cute, even.

I rushed to my small, semi-detached kitchen, hoping my sudden movement would distract him from seeing the stupid, bashful look on my face. "So uuh . . . would you like a drink? I have beers, half a bottle of rum and Dr. Pepper?"

"A beer sounds good, yeah!" Gregory called, dressing my second-hand armchair with his scarf and messenger bag. He hung his damp coat at the doorway, forgetting to take it off earlier. By the time he entered the living room, I had my hand stretched out with an open beer bottle. He thanked me for the beer, taking a long drag of it, pointing the bottom of the bottle to the ceiling, then dragging it back down, smacking his lips at the taste.

"I haven't had a beer in so long." He sighed.

That statement made me frown, until I observed his clothes. They looked rich, a perfectly tailored suit, a rolex on his left wrist, his cufflinks winking under the dull, warm lighting in my apartment. 

"I bet your used to drinking scotches older than your grandpa." I remarked, taking a sip of my drink, irony washing over me as the cheap rum and Dr. Pepper tasted like sewage on my tongue.

Greg laughed down at his feet. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."As I stared at the look on his face, sensing doubt within his pale eyes and twitching mouth, I cut to the chase. "What brings you here after all these years, Greg?"

I watched the lump in his throat bob as he swallowed. He ran another shaken hand through his hair, for the hair to fall back at the side of his face, curtaining one side of his temple and the other half showcased small sideburns. That was the only thing different about him since college, his haircut. No receeding hairline in sight, even with us pushing our thirties. In college, his dark hair fell over his forehead and eyebrows; I always thought it made him look young. Now, he looks so mature, I even wondered if he grew a few more inches. Not that he needed to, he was always so tall, you could spot him a mile away. His tall, slender figure towered over me, yet I didn't find it intimidating. I only felt the old feelings that were slowly coming back. My gaze still admirable, longing, devoted.

"I'm in some big trouble, (Y/N)." His voice was faint, I almost couldn't hear him. His eyes looked panicked. I beckoned him to the couch, inviting him to sit with me, talk to me, tell me everything.

And that he did. He told me everything. He told me how he lived off his mother after graduation, then his phase of homelessness, then how he came to be working for the Roy family. I expected the job with the Roys, but the rest came as a shock. Turns out, Logan Roy completely forgot he had a great-nephew, and it took a long time to convince him to consider Greg as part of the familly business.

"I've done some terrible things. Stuff that'd get me locked up forever. And now I'm working for one of the most unreliable news channels in America," Greg said.

"I mean -- I hate to be rude, Greg. But what did you expect when you got involved with them? The Roy's are infamous assholes," I said.

"I just wanted to work in the theme parks. Y'know like . . . be a manager or something. But here I am shredding important documents and getting verbually abused by in-laws!" His voice grew panicked, as if he was about to cry. He didn't shed a tear, instead he let out a long sigh and buried his face into his hands.The whole rich-life troubles was completely out my depth, so I only said one thing, "Well . . . At least the pay is good, yeah? You're getting paid stacks meanwhile I'm having to cope with cold, sleepless nights and skipping meals to pay bills."

"I ate a songbird! A deep-fried songbird! Y'know rich people do that? It's some weird delicacy and it doesn't even taste good!"

When Greg realised how tone death that sounded, he lifted his head from his hands and gave me an apologetic smile. It was so awkward and endearing that I couldn't help but smile and laugh, and the sound of my giggles made Greg's eyes glisten in a way I didn't expect.

I broke his gaze, taking another drink of my rum, yet I felt his stare on me. My cheeks were burning, I hoped it was just the alcohol forming my flusters.

"I wish I had someone like you in the office. Would make it less stressful." Greg admitted. I looked over to him to see what he meant by that, and all he did was present a genuine stare.

"I wouldn't be cut out to work in a place like that." I convinced.

"Yeah but, sitting in the office somedays made me think of you" Greg confessed, then added, "--and college" to make it sound less creepy. Subconsciously, I yearned for him to think of me. Like I thought of him on the days that suited. It was the little things that reminded me of him. California Pizza Kitchen, when we went there whenever we had money. Coffee shops reminded me of our study dates, cramming for exams and pulling all nighters to write assignments.

"I remember how smart you are and how much you helped me pass my exams. So, sometimes I think of you helping me in the office, like you use to. That's all." Greg admitted. I was so flattered by his words, but I attempted to keep my face neutral.

"You're smarter than you think, Greg. You helped yourself, I just had to give you a nudge." I admitted, taking another sip of my drink.

Greg gave a simple nod. We sat in a comfortable silence, until I offered him another beer. He'd drank about three by now throughout our conversation, but he nodded his head to another. As I fetched another beer and topped up my drink, I heard the ruffles of fabric. 

Returning to the couch, I observed Greg. He had loosened his tie and took off his suit jacket, which tapestried the arm of the couch. He suddenly became more recgonisable; his hair now dry from the rain, a little messy and hugging close to his ears. He rolled up his sleeves and I got a better look at his watch as his left hand took the beer from my hand.

"How much did that cost you?" I teased.

"Don't even ask." He mumbled into the beer bottle. I chuckled and sat back next to him, getting closer to him than before. He leaned back onto the couch, meeting my eyes again. There was something about him now that looked different, maybe I was just tipsy, but as I stared at his relaxed state, his ruffled hair and his immensive hands resting upon his thighs, I couldn't help but think he looked very hot. Maybe he was just tipsy too, but fuck, the look in his eye.

I immediately looked away, hiding my face into my whiskey glass as I took another drink. He looked away also, stretching his hand behind to rub the back of his neck. His eyes looked beyond as if there was an interesting fly buzzing in the room. I cleared my throat, the thickness of the rum and soda coating my mouth.

Greg broke the silence, "I should say, thank you for letting me stop by, I am very appreciative."

"It's cool, you're always welcome." I said, then I glanced at my phone for the time. "Jeez, it's almost 3am. Wanna just stay the night?"

"Oh, I shouldn't. That would be rude of me. I can get a cab-"

"Don't be silly. I can take the couch, it's quite comfortable to sleep on." I reassured.

"Yeah . . . You're couch is really comfy," Greg grinned, pressing a fist down on the cushioned seat.

-

Once I made my bed and cleaned out my dirty laundry, it was ready for Greg to sleep in. I grabbed extra blankets and pillows from the hall closet and set up my slumber. Greg came into the living room one last time and wished me goodnight, turning off the lights as I lay on the couch.

My eyes were closed, but I wasn't asleep. I shifted restlessly, moulding my body into the couch so find a comfortable spot. Hugging a pillow close to me. I wore an old button up that was way too big for me, it's collar tickling my jawline. I could smell my laundry detergent lingering within the fabric. It looked a lot like the shirt Greg wore, and I wondered if his felt as soft as mine. I imagined wearing his shirt instead of my own, I thought of his scent, was it natural? Does it smell like an expensive cologne? I shut my eyes tight, mentally scolding myself for thinking this.

A door opened, it sounded like my own. I kept my eyes shut, betting it was Greg awoken, searching for a glass of water or heading to the bathroom. I heard no refrigerator open, I heard no bathroom door locked. I only felt the covers slowly be pulled off me, and a soft familiar voice beckon my name.

I opened my eyes to Greg, loomering over me, crouched down to my laying level. I frowned in surprise, about to ask him if everything's okay. I was cut short, my breath fell short, as he placed his hand benevolently upon my cheek.

"Come to bed with me." He whispered.

"Greg, you-"

"I want to hold you." He confessed, his voice still hushed. "I mean- I just want you close, that's all. Is that okay?"

Stunned, I just stared at him, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't break from his gaze. He took this time to gently lift me from the couch, his hands grasping my arms and lifting me up. As I got to my feet, Greg pressed his body against mine, his hands hesitating to wrap around my waist. I was eventually able to nod my head, I nodded my head repeatedly. From my consent, he lead me to my bedroom, his hands on mine. I wondered what possessed his shy manner to do this, to beckon me to him. Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the stress from work. I had no idea what to think of it. I wasn't thinking of it at all, I was only feeling it. Feeling his touch on my bare skin as her ran his fingers under my sleeves and stroked my arms, then taking a gentle grip of them to bring me into his embrace as we fell under the bed covers.

My head rested on his chest, he still wore his under-shirt, the fabric brushed against my cheek as our bodies shaped within each other. His arms wrapped around me, each hand on either side on my waist. He buried his face into my hair, his nose tickled my temple. His breath traveled to my ear and I was completely encumbered by him. He began to leave small kisses on the side of my face, behind my ear, at the nip of my neck. I was convinced I was going to melt at this point.

"What's this for?" I whispered hushly. I couldn't contain my smile.

"I just want to hold you, that's all." He mumbled into my neck.

"That's okay." I reassured.

We let the flow of our affections speak as words. He played with my hair and rubbed my back, I traced words on his chest and kissed his shoulders. Our eyes heavy, we did not sleep until it engulfed us.I wanted to hold him forever.

[scarletttries]

Mistle- oh (Kendall Roy Succession)

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Complete Fluff (Warnings: a mention of the creepiness of cruises, and a mention of alcohol. Set at Christmas.)

Word Count: 1.4k

Author's Note: This one goes out to all my patient Kendall homies as I know I haven't written for him in a while between Succession seasons 😊 I don't know why I am writing a Christmas fic in August, maybe I crave cosy winter vibes as England is having a heatwave at the moment and I miss blankets, but I just couldn't get the thought out of my head and we always need more sweet Kendall words! As always send me your Succession headcanons, I am always keen to hear them 💕

Mistle- oh

There were a lot of benefits to working at Waystar: having set up their charitable foundation team following the scandal at Cruises you got to spend everyday helping people that needed it and feeling like you were actually making a difference. With the money saved on scandals and bribes there was enough for a pretty comfortable salary for you and your team, and while Logan Roy seemed to think your team were all 'snowflake babies bending to the media's demands' the rest of the team were grateful for the good publicity and the chance to feel a little less guilty about their jobs. No one was more grateful for the opportunity to do something positive than Kendall Roy, another benefit of your job.

From your first day in the company it seemed like Kendall more than anyone wanted you to succeed at what you did. He put in every effort to spend time working with you, and while there was a good chance he was just trying to be a better person and feminist following the events of the last few years, you couldn't help but feel there was a little more behind his special interest in you. It was hard to miss the way his smile lit up when you walked in the room, or the less than subtle way he'd jog down a corridor to catch up with you for a few moments of friendly conversation. And when you had to attend formal events on the team's behalf Kendall was the first to find you, to compliment your outfit, to spend the rest of the night glued to your side, introducing you to people proudly and guiding you through the evening with his hand placed gently on your lower back. You could see the sincerity in his efforts to atone for Waystar's previous wrongs and it had been hard to stop the feelings developing at these soft attempts to get closer to you.

There was another benefit to working at Waystar - they threw a hell of a Christmas party.

This December 20th you found yourself perched on the edge of a desk, champagne in hand, talking through Christmas plans with Greg as he awkwardly fumbled through trying to invite you to the New Year's Eve party he was throwing at his new loft. As much as you found Greg a refreshing change from a lot of the straight-laced Roy family, there was only one Roy you'd willingly sidle up to at 11:59 on December 31st, so you quickly excused yourself walking off just in time to miss Tom slapping Greg on the arm,

"Now now, you know better than to try and ask out (Y/N) don't you you naughty elf."

"Come on, Kendall hasn't even asked them out yet, how come I'm not allowed a shot? I might be their favourite Roy!" Greg almost pouted as you walked away, flinching as Tom leaned in closer to his ear, whispering,

"Because if Ken sees you two too close for his liking, he'll go on a coke-fuelled rampage and kill you." Walking away laughing before Greg could ask any follow-ups.

You meandered aimlessly through the office corridors, smiling at colleagues and pretending not to notice Roman pacing nervously outside Gerri's office, feigning interest in something on his phone. As you walked through an unusually quiet stretch of hall you finished your champagne, setting the crystal glass down on a sideboard before spotting something shining down from a nearby ceiling tile. You looked up, stepping slowly towards the shimmering decoration and stopping with a laugh as you recognised the shape - Mistletoe. You stood transfixed for a moment, half debating trying to find something to stand on to remove it before some poor secretary ended up in an uncomfortable position, the other half of your mind considering a much happier possibility. As if to make your decision for you, from over your shoulder you heard the familiar call of a certain man bounding towards you,

"(Y/N)!" Kendall's voice was warm as he drew closer behind you, a smile widening across his cheeks as you turned to face him, taking in your appropriately festive outfit. "If you're trying to hide from the party you're doing a great job, I've been looking all over for you. You know we had a lot more budget for this year's party thanks to your team minimising our hush money spend, so this rager is basically all for you." The glint from above you caught his eyes as he spoke, his face dropping as he paused toe-to-toe with you, realising the implications of the decoration.

"Oh shit, that's definitely not supposed to be there." You watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, the air growing thicker between the two you as he spoke, "I bet one of the fucking dinosaurs from Cruises put it up hoping to lure in our youngest intern." His joking words didn't match the serious expression he wore as neither of you could look away from each other. The fluttering in your stomach grew as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, deciding what to say next and not missing the way Kendall's eyes darted down to watch the movement,

"Maybe Tom put it up hoping to lure Greg down here, I keep HR on speed dial around those two." Kendall's laugh echoed through the empty space, almost caught in his throat as his breath grew unsteady,

"Either way, not appropriate for the new, equity-focused Waystar, we're trying to build." He said in his best corporate voice, not daring to move an inch closer to you, terrified of misreading the situation and having mistaken your kindness towards him for more than it was. Seeing the fear in his eyes you willed yourself to be the one to close the gap, taking the smallest step forward, feeling your knees threaten to buckle in anticipation as you smiled playfully,

"I think that's for me to decide." Kendall's face couldn't quite bring itself to match your smile as you gradually drew closer, feeling your own breath falter as you crossed the invisible line your jobs put between, your lips pressing softly against Kendall's. It was hesitant, the delicate peck barely lasting a second before you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again. An overwhelming mix of apprehension and joy flowed through Kendall as the imprint of your soft lips seemed to linger on his. He'd wanted this from the moment you'd been introduced and now you were within reach, if that was what you both wanted. He moved this time, still tentative as his lips met yours again, a tender kiss that seemed to warm both your hearts amidst the winter cold. You let your eyes flutter closed as you moved one hand to cup Kendall's face, capturing his lips more confidently this time, feeling him fight back a smile against your kiss. His fingertips brushed delicately along the arm at your side before they found your hand, gently lacing between your own and squeezing softly, the sweet gesture sending a tingle up your spine as you pulled your body flush with Kendall's. His free hand settled comfortably on your lower back, a gesture he had done a dozen times before, but this time felt like it existed in another realm entirely as he pulled his soft lips more excitedly against yours.

Brushing your thumb over his cheek as you pulled away slightly, trying to remind yourself where you were over the spinning in your head,

"We should probably take it down now." You spoke softy, watching the absentminded smile forming on Kendall as he glanced back up to the Christmas miracle hanging from the ceiling. His heart felt full as his gaze flicked between your warm expression and the glistening decoration above you, not wanting to unlock his fingers from yours for even a second now that he finally had you in his arms.

"When I find out who put it up I'm giving them my whole Christmas bonus." Kendall joked contently, a soft smile across his face as his racing thoughts tried to find the words he needed to tell you, between ideas of new Christmas presents he wanted to get you immediately.

"Oh fuck off Kendall!" You both heard a frustrated voice shout behind you. Jumping apart you both spun in place to see an irate looking Roman with his arm around an awkward Gerri, "That's not for you!"

Kendall couldn't help the hearty laugh that crept out of him at his brother's pained expression, wrapping an arm back around your waist to escort you somewhere he could get out his feelings uninterrupted. With an awkward wave to them both he tried to speak sincerely,

"Merry Christmas you two."

Bonus, relevant, gif:

[hopingforromanoff]

Winter Nights {W. Maximoff}

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: one or no curse words 

Requests are currently closed 

.A/n: Fluffmas is here guys! @too-gay-for-marvel​ and I are counting down to Christmas on our blogs! Head over to her blog for tomorrow’s fic! Between the two of us, we will be writing a fic each day until Christmas 

Let me know your thoughts, feelings, or just come into my inbox for a chat!

Stay awesome

~Lucy

My Masterlist

12 Days of Fluffmas Masterlist

_________________

The sound of the door to your apartment softly closing echoed through the otherwise silent room, Wanda must have been home. The only other sounds that could be heard were the occasional soft ruffle of you turning the page in your book or Wanda’s cat, Greg moving among the apartment or the occasional chirp or meow from him when he saw a bird fly by the window. Wanda had left a few hours prior as she had been called to a meeting at the compound and promised to run into the grocery store to grab a few bits for the apartment on her way home. You were cleaning when she left but had since settled into bed with your favorite book. It was only the beginning of December but you could already feel the cold winter  air beginning to settle within your bones, and Wanda’s hoodie and a good blanket was the best way to stave it off. You could hear Wanda moving around the apartment now, the soft sound of the cabinets and the fridge opening and closing as she put away the groceries or Greg’s soft meows in response to Wanda’s coos at him. You wanted to go greet her too, but with every word you read and the warmth of the blanket, you felt reality slip from you as you became engrossed in the book. 

“Y/n, are you here?” The worry in Wanda’s voice pulled you from your trance for just a moment. 

“Yeah, i’m back here” you called back to her, your eyes immediately finding the words on the page again. 

You felt Wanda watching you as she paused, leaning against the doorway for a moment before pushing off, and disappearing into the closet to shed her winter coat and boots. 

You let yourself disappear back into the book as you grew accustomed to Wanda’s presence back in the apartment. 

It wasn’t long before you felt a nudge at your side, you met the sweet puppy dog eyes of your girlfriend. You smiled at her and lifted you’re arm, letting her crawl under and snuggle up next to you.  You tucked the blanket tightly around her, her hands still cold from the walk into the apartment. 

You took in the tranquility that fell around you as you went back to your book with your girlfriend tightly nestled in your arms, she absentmindedly drew shapes into your hip bone with her finger…… that was, however, until Greg realized that his favorite human was giving YOU attention and not him. He barreled onto the bed, knocking the book from your hands causing it to fall right on your face. 

“DUDE what the hell” you exclaimed after you peeled the book off your face only to see Greg curled up in wanda’s arms, purring, acting as if nothing happened. Wanda’s whole body shook as she laughed watching the look of shock turn to disgust on your face. 

“I cannot believe the two of you, all I wanted to do was relax and read a book and now the two of you are causing chaos“

“I’m sorry,baby, we will leave alone now, I have Christmas cookies to make anyway” Wanda pecked you on the lips and disappeared from the room into the kitchen. Greg launched off the bed and hurled himself after her. You heard him run into the base of the Christmas tree, and the sound of ornaments bounce on the hardwood floor. 

A short while later Wanda called your name from the kitchen, asking for help. The smell of warm sugar cookies and melted chocolate filled your nose when you entered the kitchen. Wanda had various trays of cookies stacked on top of the oven cooling, and sprinkles of every color imaginable lined up ready to decorate.

Wanda had herself hoisted up on the counter trying to grab something from inside the cabinet but it wasn’t working, she was just too short. You had to resist the urge to call her short, or you would receive a smack on the arm and you definitely wouldn’t be allowed any of her delicious cookies. 

“What do you need, baby?” You asked as you placed your hands either side of her and glanced up into the cabinet trying to figure out what she needed. 

“You” she whispered, pulling you down to her height and kissing you. Her hands settled on your hips and slowly began to creep up your sides under your shirt.

You jumped as a loud timer went off to your right. 

“My cookies!” Want exclaimed jumping off the counter and heading towards the oven. 

“Not again, I just want time with you” You groaned, throwing your head back for dramatic effect. Wanda chuckled but hurried in getting the cookies from the oven. 

“Now where were we” Wanda squealed as you lifted her up onto the counter as soon as she was in your reach. Your lips brushed her, softly, delicately, at first, just long enough that you could feel the warmth of her skin, and the taste of cookies lingering on her lips. You felt the heat rise in Wanda’s cheeks as your tongue brushed against her bottom lip. 

You heard the sound of a tree ornament hitting the floor, followed by another and another and another. And very shortly after, with an almighty crash, the entire tree fell to the ground. Ornaments scattered across the floor, the lights pulled from the wall socket. Greg darted away from the scene of his crime with a string of tinsel attached to his tail. 

Through gritted teeth you whispered “Wanda, I’m gonna fucking kill your cat”

Taglist

@too-gay-for-marvel​ @wickedmuses​ @athenapotter​ @kiwiana145

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Multi-Fandom Bingo (Dozen) Masterlist

'Don't Look Back' On The Tide - Chapter Four. Bucky Barnes x Original Male Character. Winter gets in an altercation for his ‘laziness’, and his Captain comes to his defence. CW: Implied risk of violence. 'It's Okay to Cry' Hail Hydra - Chapter Eleven. Bucky gets to his new home, and is treated with surprising tenderness- until he isn't. CW: Violence, slavery, implied risk to life.

'Died in Your Arms Tonight' Silver & Gold - Chapter Eight. Natasha Romanoff (ish) x Original Male Character. Everyone's favourite couple go exploring - but not everything goes as smoothly as they'd like. CW: Exposure, hypothermia, accidental injury.

'Youthful Freckles' On The Tide - Chapter Six. Bucky Barnes x Original Male Character. Things are tense after the accidental kiss, and Lieutenant Tyne learns more about his newest recruit. CW: Mentions of homophobia and criminalisation of homosexuality, vague references to theoretical SA.

'Touche' Silver & Gold - Chapter Seven. Natasha Romanoff (ish) x Original Male Character. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between reality and darkness. CW: Sudden personality changes, verbal abuse, distress, subconscious self-harm (mild), references to past self-harm and abuse, unrealism, fat shaming. You're Cute When You're Angry Hail Hydra - Chapter Six. Bucky seeks comfort. CW: Flashbacks (including forced amputation and brief body gore), Nightmares, T-rated smuttiness.

'The Glomp' Silver & Gold - Chapter Seven. Natasha Romanoff (ish) x Original Male Character. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between reality and darkness. CW: Sudden personality changes, verbal abuse, distress, subconscious self-harm (mild), references to past self-harm and abuse, unrealism, fat shaming.

'Fell Asleep Crying' Hail Hydra - Chapter Twelve. Bucky settles into his prolonged captivity until his creator is ready to return to him, and finds out exactly what it means to obey without question. CW: Restraint, forced obedience, physical punishment, sexual slavery/non-con, self-induced vomiting, disassociation following trauma. 'Don't Call Me "Sir"' On The Tide - Chapter One. Bucky Barnes x Original Male Character. Bucky Barnes, but make it ‘Environmental Activist AU’. And also queer. Always queer. Trans!Bucky gets a job fighting for the innocents of the ocean – and seems to be of particular irritation and interest to his new Captain. 'I'm Not a Hero, I'm...' Silver & Gold - Chapter Six. Natasha Romanoff (ish) x Original Male Character. Lia gives Yoshi one hell of a birthday surprise. CW: all the smut, as always. Photography/videography. Emotions and things. The typical fluffiness. 'Ugly Cute' With Eyes to See and Ears to Hear - Chapter Twenty-Two. Clint Barton x Matt Murdock. Clint ends up snotty and wheezy after his time face-down in the snow, so Matt takes care of him. CW: Illness (non-vomiting), reference to previous injury. 'I Want My Beloved to Be Happy' With Eyes to See and Ears to Hear - Chapter Twenty. Clint Barton x Matt Murdock. The boys give this whole ‘Halloween’ thing a go. CW: Minor, accidental wound

@multifandom-flash

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

Tricked Into It (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 1,957

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz aka Mouse x Reader

Summary: Ever since your last breakup with someone who cheated and abused the love you had for them, you have been wary of dating. And it doesn’t help when your friend Kim Burgess won’t stop pestering you about some cute techie guy at the 21st District.

Warnings: talk of bad relationship (cheating, emotional abuse, PTSD from the relationship), descriptions of what might be an anxiety attack (I described feeling anxious but it ended up bordering on what could have almost been an attack.)

A/N: So I am working on a Kelly Severide Imagine, but I’m a but stuck on it so I came up with the idea that I take the last imagine I wrote, the other Mouse Imagine and make it into a little series of one shots, mainly cause I wanted to explore the relationship of Mouse and this librarian!reader. So this is a sort of prequel to the first Mouse imagine, how they first met which is talked about in the other imagine.

HERE is the first Librarian!Reader fic if you want to check it out!!

If you want to be added to my tags, just ASK!!

“Kim, I swear to god!”

You slammed your book shut with a snap and looked up at the Chicago police officer, aka Kim Burgess aka your best friend, in front of you. She looked almost as annoyed as you felt, rolling her eyes and sitting down on your couch across you in your reading chair. Kim had come over after her shift at the 21st District ended, and only after a couple of minutes of peace, Kim started up on her latest crusade; your love life.

“Y/N...”

“No! I get that you care, believe me, but I don’t need you trying to set me up with someone.” You said with a heavy sigh. 

Kim scooted closer to you and leaned forward, trying to catch your eye which was avoiding hers, “Hey,” She paused and waited for you to look her in the eye, “I just want you to be happy. And I think this guy is a good match for you. Much better than -”

“Don’t say their name.”

“...Fine. But Mouse is so your type!”

You were about to start arguing again when her words actually registered into your head, “His name is Mouse? There is no way that this cop’s name is Mouse.”

“Okay one, he isn’t a cop. He is a tech expert that works with Intelligence, a civilian hired by the unit and the department. And two, Mouse is just what everyone calls him, its a nickname from when he was younger.” Kim explained.

“Tech guy?” 

“Yeah, crazy smart when it comes to hacking and stuff like that. He got the job after hacking into Voight’s cell phone in like a couple of seconds. And he was in the Rangers with Jay, plus he is pretty funny and cute.”

You looked away from Kim as you thought it through. Clearly Kim was just looking out for you, but there was no way this guy, this super-smart-tech-genius-ex-ranger, could ever be interested in someone like you. You were just a simple librarian at Chicago Public Library, living alone aside from your cat companion, Geraldine. You hadn’t done anything extraordinary with your life, and as your thought process started to spiral in an anxious tizzy, you started to shake your head.

“No, no I can’t see this guy. He wouldn’t want to get stuck with some boring librarian.” You said, your body shrinking in on itself as your self confidence crumbled. All the comments your ex significant other made to you while you were still dating came popping up into your mind one after the other after the other. Comments on your weight, your looks, how you were boring and that was why they stepped out and cheated on you any chance they could. Tears were misting in your eyes and you tried blinking them away, not wanting to cry in front of Kim.

“Y/N-”

“I mean it Kim. Drop it.”

Kim looked you over and saw how you had retreated into yourself, clearly looking uncomfortable with the topic. That’s when she sighed and nodded, forcing a small smile on her face, “Okay.”

                                                        ---

A week has passed since the confrontation with Kim about that techie guy, and you were slowly trying to purge the whole instance from your head and get back to your quiet life. Every once in a while, the conversation would slide to the forefront of your mind, along with your anxiety-fueled spiral about your ex, and you would try and shake away the ordeal. It had made you feel small and disgusting thinking about your ex and how your self worth was diminished because of them, and you never wanted to go back to that place again. Even if that meant never being in another relationship again.

On Friday, you had gotten a text from Kim around midday about having a girl’s night and heading out to have a drink at Molly’s, this pub which had become pretty popular with the cops of the Intelligence Unit. You had been once before, and one of the owners, Gabbie Dawson, was really nice to you when Kim introduced her. So you agreed, excited to go out and hang out with Kim. 

Once you got out of work around 6, you got back to your small one bedroom apartment and fed Geraldine before retreating to your room to figure out what to wear. You settled on a pair of slender black pants and a long sleeved dark green blouse matched with a pair of green heels. Once you showered, dried and got your hair the exact way you like it, added a little makeup and got dressed, it was time to head out and meet Kim at Molly’s. You drove to the neighborhood where the pub was, some cars already lining the streets letting you know that Molly’s would probably be busy.

You parked, and hurried to get inside, pulling your winter coat around you a litter tighter as a gust of wind tried to chill you to the bone. The November night air was lung chilling and while you weren’t dressed like those young twenty-somethings with short dresses and no coats, you still did not want to waste another second with the wind chill. Once you got in, you saw that your assumption about the pub being busy was right, many people scattered around the bar, others in groups were seated or standing next to tables against the other wall. You looked around, trying to catch Kim’s face in the crowd but having trouble with how crowded. You pealed off your coat and made your way to the bar where you saw an older man behind the counter, cleaning off a glass. 

“Excuse me?” You said, slipping into the space in front of the bar, and accidentally grazing your arm against the guy sitting down to your right, “Oh sorry.” You said quickly to the guy, not really looking in his direction so you didn’t notice when he started staring at you in awe.

“What can I get ya?” The older man said as he put the glass down and gave you his full attention.

“I know this is probably a long shot, but my friend comes to this bar a lot and I was just wondering if you’ve seen her tonight? Kim Burgess?”

“Ah! I know Burgess. From the 21st District?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s her.”

The man smiled before turning around and grabbing something from behind the bar and then turned back to you, “I haven’t seen her, but she called about 5 minutes ago saying that her friend would be stopping by tonight. She also said to get her a vodka cranberry on her and to give her this.”

He handed you a napkin and then turned away, most likely to get your drink ready. You looked down at the napkin with a rough note written on it, reading out loud the note, “Hey, something came up super last minute, have a drink on me and enjoy the night. Sorry, --Kim.”

“Sorry about that, kid.” The man said as he returned with your drink, giving you a warm smile that also had a hint of pity in it. 

“No problem. It’s not your fault.”

With one more smile he headed towards the other end of the bar, leaving you with your drink. You let out a sigh and brought the drink to your lips, trying to figure out what you were going to do next when a voice from next to you started speaking.

“You’re friends with Burgess?”

Looking over, it was the guy you had apologized to earlier. Now that you weren’t in a rush to find Kim, you got a good look at him. He had brown hair, you could almost consider it floppy-like if it didn’t also have a clean-cut feel to it. The man’s eyes were bright blue, and they looked at you with a mix of intrigue and surprise. He was wearing a blue button-up which matched his eyes, the first few buttons undone.

“Yeah, do you know her?” You asked. He nodded and looked down to his beer bottle, his fingers anxiously playing with the paper label.

“I-I work with her at the district.” He explained. “Are you one of her flight attendant friends?”

“No, god no. I’m a librarian at the Chicago Public Library.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s boring..”

“No! I genuinely think it’s cool. I-I mean I’m not a huge book guy myself but-but I did read a lot of Shakespeare in school and that was really cool, especially the-the one about the guy who dressed as a woman to hide from a mob or something and everyone thought he was a witch?” The guy rambled, his face flushing as he tried to save himself. You smirked at the clumsiness of his words and took a drink of your cocktail.

“The Merry Wives of Windsor?” You offered, and the guy snapped at the name.

“Yeah, yeah. The whole play now that I think about it went over my head at 16. But I was too interested in the Blackhawks and code. Like-Like the game that happened the other night, I was invested until that left winger from the Rangers totally checked Hartman and they put-”

“Hartman in the penalty box! Yes!! With only 3 minutes left on the clock and the take out the best right winger on the ice.” You jumped in, a smile growing on your face as the topic of hockey came up. “If he was still playing the Blackhawks would have got at least 2 more points and would have won instead of losing to the worst team in the league.”

The guy sputtered his drink and starts laughing, and immediately think its cause you had embarrassed yourself and he was laughing at you, not what you said. That was until he smiled at you and nodded his head. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You felt a small fluttering in you chest when he smiled, something about him not making you nervous or anxious which was a change. With a smile on your own face, you put your hand out to him, “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N L/N.”

“Greg Gerwitz.” Greg took your hand and shook it, lingering for a couple extra seconds before pulling away. “Or you can call me Mouse.”

You froze as he said that, your eyes widening in shock. He seemed to see your reaction and frowned, “Or not?”

“No, sorry.” You said quickly, trying to recover. “It-Its just that Burgess has been trying to set me up with you for the last few weeks.”

“Wait...oh! You’re that librarian! Burgess has been telling me about you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, says how you are the best person ever and that I would like you the minute we met.” He chuckled. Greg smirked and turned more towards you, “And she wasn’t wrong.”

You flushed, feeling the heat of your blush against your cheeks as his smirk widened. It was quiet between the two of you as the pub continued with it’s noise like it wasn’t watching the start of something amazing. Greg then spoke up, getting your attention again, “Hey, I know this might seem fast but I really like talking to you.”

“I really like talking to you too.”

“Really?” He asked, his face getting red again as his smirk melted away into a nervous smile, “Well, what would you say about a date? Maybe the Blackhawks game tomorrow?”

It took quicker than you thought, but all your anxiety from the week before seemed like a long lost bad dream and you just wanted to spend some time with Greg Gerwitz.

“I would love to.”

ONE CHICAGO TAGS: @carnationworld​ 

NORMAL TAGS:  @l4life​ @ithoughtiwasflying

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (III.6)

VI. The shrieking shack

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Christmas Holidays prove to be quite illuminating 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Anyways… I’ll keep this party going… I’m so excited about the future of this story, and lack of readers is not going to deter me jkajaja “Somos pocos pero buenos”, that’s what I say

“One last trip to Hogsmeade before the term ends!”, said Pansy, “I’m going to get my parents presents there”

“That’s actually a great idea”, you said with a wide smile, “I’ll get my aunt something there as well, something she can’t find anywhere else”, you said excitedly. There was snow on the ground, so you and Pansy were actually excited to wear your matching hats, scarfs and mittens

You gathered with the rest of the Girls, Mili, Daph and Tray, and you went together, arm in arm, barely letting anyone through your wall of girlies, it was so fun.

You picked presents for your aunt, and some interesting artifacts for yourself, as the girls picked some things for themselves and their loved ones, you also thought about buying something for Draco, but you had never been much creative regarding gifts, so you bought many little things that you’d think he’d enjoy, his favorite sweets from Honeydukes, a couple of pranks from Zonko’s, this year’s figurine album from his favorite quidditch team, and many packages of figurines.

You were happy with your purchases, and you couldn’t wait to go home for the winter break.

School was going great… but… you wanted to go back home to rest, and see your aunt, and just be home for a bit. Classes were tiring 

You were walking back from the town, reaching the crossing that lead to the shrieking shack, when Draco, followed closely by Vince and Greg ran so fast they barely missed

“Wow!”, you exclaimed, “Draco! what is going on!”

He could barely speak, he mumbled something about the shrieking shack and about Weasley and he kept running like the devil was chasing him

You saw odd things everyday at Hogwarts 

. . .

You were watching seven year students playing races on the frozen lake as you had prepared to depart Hogwarts for the Holidays

You wondered what Bubbles did in the winter, when the lake was frozen

Bubbles was the giant squid that lived in the lake, you named him

Did he hibernate? Curious things Squids 

You didn't want to take your whole trunk with you, for that, you had bought a bag, and there you took with you your favorite pieces of clothing, and some personal things, and your gifts. Draco grabbed your shoulder and signaled for you to keep walking to the carriages that were waiting for you.

“Are you going to France for the winter break?”, he asked, and even though you might think that is a good idea, you shook your head

“No, I’m staying here”, you said, as you had exchanged letters with your aunt

“I though your aunt would want to… leave here”, you frowned when you heard him, and you were going to ask him why, but you were interrupted by Pansy and Matthew

“Ready to go?”, she asked excitedly

“Sure”

It was hard to find a moment to talk to Draco where Pansy or Matthew weren’t there, you couldn’t even talk to him about what happened near the shrieking shack, and he wouldn't talk about it in front of others either. You got inside the open carriage, and you were thankful you were wearing your wool hat and scarf.

Umbra hooted in her cage, as she was fuzzy, it was cold out and she was idle for most of the semester, so you opened her cage mid ride in the carriage

“Go home”, you commanded, she seemed happy to be let out, she opened her huge wings and flied away from you

“This year's Christmas ball is going to be magnificent”, Draco muttered, “since last year it was a small affair, this year, we are going all out!”, your friend told the group as you were seated on the train back to King’s Cross station

And you were kind of excited for the Malfoy’s activities, even though you had noticed your aunt pulling out of their invitations

The ride was quicker than you remembered it, and in less than five hours, you were being hugged tightly by your aunt

“Tu m’as manqué, mon amour”, she whispered in your ear

“tu m'as manqué aussi”, you answered back

As you turned to the side, the Malfoys were there, greeting Draco of course, they turned to you

“Cercille… Little one”, Lucius greeted, Narcissa hugged you tightly, “we will see you in the manor soon I hope”

“Yes Lucius”, my aunt answered quickly, placing her hands on your shoulders, “see you in a couple of days, alright? I will this this lady home first”, she said happily

And you left before the other parents, the Notts, or Parkinsons… and all the rest joined in

You found yourself happy to be home as you crossed the threshold, you greeted Jolie, you aunt’s familiar, a beautiful long-haired siamese cat, and kept going down the hall to your room

“Hello mom”, you greeted your mother’s portrait, which was hanging on the wall next to your bedroom door. She smiled and nodded, she was so beautiful, only seventeen when that portrait was painted, she never said anything, she only smiled at you calmly

And over an early dinner, just the two of you, she was filling you in on her last trip to France, and that you may go in the summer 

“We have been invited to the Malfoy’s for the entire Christmas week, and I said yes”, your aunt informed you

“Really?”, since you had remembered your aunt had been attached to the Malfoys, but since you started Hogwarts you had gotten the impression that she wanted to draw a line between both families, but this year… spending the entire week at Malfoy manor… your aunt’s face? something was off, something felt weird, like you were taking a preventive measure or something

You didn’t know anything -yet-, about protective spells, but the ones around the house felt more… thick… more powerful, you didn’t even know how to explain it, but they felt different 

Your aunt was nervous, you could see it, was she concerned?

Has this had to do with… Sirius Black? Because what else? He was the only thing different this year… you remembered from the summer… the way she reacted when she heard he had escaped? he was only a few years older than her… so, maybe they knew each other from school?

How to approach the subject with her?

You told her about everything, about how Defense against the dark arts was finally being what it should be, about how Quidditch was being great, about your friends, about how beautiful Hogsmeade was… all of it, even Pansy and Draco, and how uncomfortable you felt, but you didn’t want to ruin either friendship

The very next day you were getting ready to go to Malfoy Manor, for a fancy dinner, and then to stay there for the rest of the week. 

So when you were already dressed in your more… fancy clothes, to get ready to go to the Malfoys, you went to her room to raid her jewelry box for that floating diamond necklace you liked so much, you catched her putting her earrings on

“Did you know Sirius Black?”, you asked her bluntly, she was so surprised by your question she dropped one, which you easily picked up for her

“Wha- Why…? Why would you ask me that?”, she asked quickly

“Because you have been like this since the summer!”, you said, “and I know you did something to the protections around the house”

“How can you know?”, she asked

“I don’t know, but it feels… strong…”, you said dismissively, “Don’t change the subject”, you demanded, and she thought about it, looking straight into your eyes

“Yes, of course, he is only three years older than me”, she said finally, “so we shared like… four years in Hogwarts, and he had a reputation of course, everyone knew who he was”, she said, turning to the mirror and starting on her makeup, “and of course we all knew his group of friends”, she said, “James Potter, Remus Lupin…”

“My professor against the dark arts?”, you asked

“And another… smaller… pathetic little fellow”, she muttered dismissively, “Can’t remember his name, anyways, everyone knew who they were, they were inseparable”, she kept speaking, “jokers, troublemakers, they were brutally mean to Severus Snape”

“My potions professor?”, you asked

“The abuse was brutal”, she kept it going, “So they weren’t friends with the Slytherins, and after they got out of school, the first wizarding world broke out”, she said more slowly, carefully, “they were some sort of revolutionaries, they were the opposition, it was a shock to everyone what happened, turns out, Sirius black was a spy for Voldemort all that time! He betrayed his friends!”, she told you, scandalized, “and he told "You know who” where they were hiding…”

“Who?”

“The Potters”, she said slowly

“Harry Potter’s parents?”

“Yes”

“Why do they say he is the chosen one?”, you asked her

“That night, when You know who went to their house to murder them… they say he tried to kill Harry too, but failed, the spell seemed to have rebounded, and he was cast away”

“Is he dead?”, you asked him

“No one knows”, she said back

“But why would “You know who” would bother to kill a family of 21 year olds?”, you asked

“It is said it was a prophecy, that a boy born at the end of july would be the one to end the dark lord forever or something like that, prophecies are a dangerous thing…”

“So, Potter was born at the end of July, so he might be the boy who was promised, to end the dark lord, he goes to murder them, tries to, but his curse rebounds and he gets wiped out instead”, you said

“Yes”, she said

“And that is why they call him “the boy who lived”?”

“Indeed”, she said

“And Sirius black wants to kill Potter…. why?”, she seemed to think about it, really think about it

“I’m not sure, maybe he wants his old job back”, she said dismissively 

“But “you know who” is gone!”, you muttered

“He might return”, she said, very seriously 

“So why are you so nervous about Black?”, you had never heard your aunt take any side on the first wizarding world, and she was in the thick of it, being friends with the followers of the dark wizard, but you had never heard her speak in his favor, or against him

She looked at you through the mirror

“It's just, it brings back a lot of memories”, she said, “I want us to be safe”, she muttered

“But why would he come here? if that’s what you fear?”, you insisted

“I’m just guessing, that… with everybody looking for him, you know? Is not that crazy to think… he would look for someone… familiar, to help him”, you stared at her… there was something else… something more, and then you giggled

“You just said he was no friend of Slytherin…”, you gasped, scandalized, “DID YOU FANCY HIM IN SCHOOL?”, you teased, and she blushed scandalously

“NO!”, she said

“YOU DID!”, You teased back, “I mean, I don’t blame you, you didn’t know it back then, were you his friend in school?”, you asked her

“NO I WASN’T!”, she said quickly, with a comical face

It was fun to tease her

. . .

“Stop it!”, she snapped, as you were looking up at her and only smiling, as you were in the front of Malfoy Manor

“You know, without all the crazy, I can see the appeal”, you teased

“Enough”, she said with a playful smile

You were received by their house elf, and led to the dining room. You were embarrassed to admit that you were late, your line of questions had made it so.

The table was set, and you were not the only ones attending the meal

Matthew was there, in the company of a young man, there was also Theo, accompanied by his father, Gregory with his mother, Vincent by his parents, you were the only girl, at least of your classmates.

“Please sit”, signaled Lucius, they were barely on the appetizers, so that was good

“Sorry for the delay”, she said apologetically, taking your seats right next to the Malfoy family

“It was my fault”, you murmured

“Its of no consequence”, you could see the familiar longing in Narcissa’s face when she patted the seat next to her for you to occupy, she was always so kind to you, so tender, and you appreciated it, she was like your second mom

“For those who don’t know, this is Cercille Basilik, accompanied by her niece, my goddaughter, (y/n) Basilik”, presented Lucius

“Daughter of the mythical… Guillaume Basilik” muttered the man seated next to Matthew

“That’s the one”, your aunt said uncomfortably 

“What brings you here? so far from your Father's empire?”, he asked next, your aunt was having such an interesting day with all those questions

“Well…”, she started, it was a complicated story, “My mother’s family was from Britain, and when my parents decided to separate, she brought us here to live”, she tried to explain it as easily as she could, of course it was severely more complicated than that

“I didn’t know Guillaume had a son…”, and he then looked at you, he was a very handsome man, with sharp features, piercing green eyes. Of course, since you carried your aunt’s last name, he would have thought you were the daughter of a “son”

“He doesn’t”, she said, starting to get angry

“So she must be Aminthe’s daughter”, he said now looking at you, you felt all the looks of the table on you, you didn’t like it at all

“Yes”, you said firmly

“Narcissa, this soup is just to die for”, commented Vince’s mother, and you all quickly changed the subject

Who was that guy? uncle Lucius didn’t even introduce him.

It was an uncomfortable dinner, to say the least

That very night, you snuck into your aunt’s room

“What are you doing darling?”, she asked

“Couldn’t sleep”, you whispered

“Come here”, she invited you to join her, and you did 

“Why did you decide to accept their invitation?”, you asked, she cuddled you near her, kissing the top of your head

“Do you trust me?”, she asked, you nodded, “you’ll just have to know, this was the best thing”, she said

“There is not going to be a Yule Log, or our pajama morning”, you whined

“Don’t be a brat now, we can have those things next year”, she said simply

The Christmass ball, a few days later, was, as promised, exquisite.

Narcissa decided to go for more of a classic look this year, so mistletoe arrangements were hanging from the ceiling and between the chandeliers, with beautiful red fruits, and everywhere you could see there was green, crimson red and gold

You wore a shimmering red dress, matching with your aunt

“Like the blood I now shed”, you had say making her laugh

You were wearing matching mistletoe crows, like you used to do when you spend Christmas together at home. 

As you were now thirteen, you were made to… “participate” more of the ball, you were forced to be there, mingle, and even dance 

Dances were pretty natural for you, but you were always allowed to, “excuse yourself”

You looked at your aunt, and she was being questioned again by that mysterious man, she looked incredibly uncomfortable

“He is my uncle”, Matthew was by your side in a second, “Morfin Gaunt”

“Is he?”, you asked

“My tutor, legal guardian”, he completed, and you were thankful, that after three years, you finally knew something about Matthew’s family

“What happened to your parents?”, you asked bluntly

“They died”, he said simply, “what happened to your dad?”

“I don’t know who he is, nobody can or will tell me”, you said

“Hum, curious thing, I bet anybody in this room filled with people knows who he is”

“Are you suggesting I just start randomly asking?”, you said back

“How else are you going to know?”

“My aunt told me she was going to tell me when I’m ready, and I believe her”, you said defensively

“Maybe he was one of the Dark Lord’s faithful servants, and he is in Azkaban”, he teased

“Wouldn’t that be something”, you mumbled under your breath

“Want to dance?”, he asked bluntly. You looked at the dancefloor and Draco was dancing with Pansy very comfortably 

“No, not really”, you whispered, you looked back and gasped when Theo’s father invited your aunt to dance.

He was very handsome, now you understand where Theo got it from, he had deep blue eyes, and chestnut colored hair a bit faded because of age, but his face even though it looked severe, it was still sharp. He was a real silver fox

“You seemed uncomfortable of my uncle’s line of questioning”, he kept going

“Well, with the people we surround ourselves with… one would think they wouldn’t take kindly to an illegitimate daughter, am I correct?”

“I’m an illegitimate son”, he said dismissively, “nobody asks many questions”

“I guess not”, you said, deflated

“Trelawney said you were going to know your other half…”, he said, “perhaps you are near to discover who he is…”

“I might”, you said

Were you right in waiting? Why would they keep this information from you? You were certain the Malfoys knew who your father was

He must have done something… maybe something terrible? was he a murderer? You grew up with this… but now… the uncertainty was pulling from your chest, a need to know was growing strongly and steadily inside of you.

Why would they keep it a secret?

You knew your parents had you very young, almost in school… So maybe… his family disapproved? maybe they disowned him, casted him away, maybe they were awful, and your aunt didn’t want you to meet them until you were indeed ready, what other reason could there be? 

But still, you wanted to know so badly.

[blueberrysets]

EXPLORING SONGS: HOW THE SUN TEMPTED ME

pairing: timeskip!tsukishima x f!reader

genre: fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol use, depression, grief, angst

word count:  3,343

summary: after the death of his best friend, tsukishima swore to never speak a word about that night and to not even mutter his name again. he would rather stay angry at himself for the rest of his life than to think about that incident. yet, it haunts him in his dreams and in his every day to day life. until the lovable roommate of his seems to show more care towards him than anyone else in his life.   

song to play: fine line by harry styles

an: yay!! this is my first installment in my writing collection of exploring songs! I’m super excited to keep writing for this and diving deep into the lyrics of the music. I hope you enjoy and let me know if you would like to be in the tag list for future installments!

masterlist!

taglist: @emiyummy @nyelsy​

In the five stages of grief, tsukishima seems to be stuck on the second stage; anger. He’s been that way for the past four years since he lost his best friend. it’s a relentless anger that is directed to anyone who happens to irritate him just slightly. he finds himself having to hold his tongue while an annoying little kid asks him a dumb question while he’s explaining fossils. he used to love their curiosity and would lend a hand to teach them. his anger starts at the bottom of his feet, flowing all the way up to the middle of his throat. having him choke slightly at the ball of frustration blocking his airways.

yet the one thing he can’t get rid of, is his annoying lovable roommate.

“tsukki!” her voice rings out, bouncing off the walls of the bustling museum. her arms stretched way above her head as she waves him down, a bright smile lighting up her face as her cheeks and the tip of her nose are rosy from the winter air outside.

tsukishima finds the corners of his mouth raising slightly at the sight. it’s not a new one, she’s always there for his lunch break so they can eat together. always making food and coming to his work with a bento that has his name on it. the slight smile stays for a second, but is soon replaced with his familiar scowl. he makes his way over to her, hands shoved in his khaki pants. his worker ID hanging around his neck on a lanyard, irritating the back of his neck and bumping against his dark brown sweater. 

her office attire is covered by a long, black peacoat and a thick, tan scarf paired with it. her hands lower as he gets closer to her, but her smile doesn’t falter. the familiar big purse filled with the contents of their lunch is hanging off her shoulder, the same color as her scarf. she calls it her “mom purse,” stating how she can literally carry anything in there. if only he could take his grief and place it in there as well. 

“look at you,” tsukishima snickers, “finally dressing appropriately for the weather.”

a look of annoyance replaces her smile, he feels himself missing it already. her hand winds back to land a slap right onto his bicep. he couldn’t help but laugh even more at her reaction. it’s fun to tease her, especially when she gets pouty. 

“keep saying stuff like that and i’ll stop making you lunches,” she grumbles as she sticks her tongue out at him.

“you and i both know you won’t,” he shrugs. 

“shut up, i hate when you’re right,” she mumbles again, pushing the straps of her purse higher up on her shoulder as she walks to where his break room is. 

a hearty laugh leaves his lips as his head is thrown back. his shoulders rising up and down as the laugh takes over his body. it stops y/n in her place to look back and take in the sight. seeing the pure joy covering his face as he laughs, it's a sight she doesn’t want to miss. so, she halts in her tracks and admires him. but before he could notice, she turns back around and continues her way to the break room. but how odd was it, to know that he only laughs that genuinely around her. 

the clicking sound of her heels now echo off the walls, and he follows the noise all the way to the familiar staff break room. she clunks her purse down on the dull, wooden table that sits in the middle of the room. to the left of it is a kitchenette area with counters, a refrigerator, microwave, coffee maker, and sink. to the right are various vending machines and printers. she places the two bentos and two pairs of chopsticks onto the table before dropping her bulky bag next to her chair. she unravels her scarf and shrugs off her coat before hanging them on the back of her chair.

it’s annoying how frustratingly beautiful she is, without even trying. her black skirt fits her curves nicely and goes great with her favorite maroon turtleneck sweater. the black tights that cover her skin from the cold air transition nicely into her black high heel boots. her hair in its natural state as her face is adorned with work-suited make up. yet, his favorite look on her would have to be the casual clothes she lounges in at home. 

he takes his usual seat across from her, sitting down and grabbing the chopsticks that were set nicely next to his bento box. he breaks them apart before unwrapping and opening his meal. but stops his movements to see her loosely putting her hair into a bun before she eats. stating that it keeps it from annoyingly falling in her face as she eats, another habit that he can’t seem to stop gushing over. they sit in silence as they start to eat, it’s a comfortable silence. one that is usually filled with the humming from the printer.

“how’s work been today?” she asks with her mouth slightly full, her gaze on her food as she continues to shovel it into her mouth.

“the usual, how about you?” he softly asks as he picks at his food, “is that greg guy still bothering you? you know i can sort that out for you.”

she lets out a snort, setting her chopsticks down as she wipes her hands on her skirt. chewing her food completely and swallowing before she replies. 

“i’m a big girl, I can handle it,” she states in a sassy manner, her gaze meeting him from across the table, “but no, he’s not.”

“good,” he answers shortly, briefly meeting her gaze before it’s redirected back down to his food. 

she clears her throat as she picks up her chopsticks again, returning to quickly eating. their lunch time together is short as she has to catch another train back to her office in a different part of the city. he’s told her multiple times that she doesn’t have to do this, that he’s perfectly capable of having lunch by himself. but she insists, and he’s glad that she still does. perhaps, he doesn’t like being alone. 

“i can’t believe it’s already december 12th,” she mumbles, mostly to herself, “it’s getting close to christmas, i’m not even done shopping yet.”

while the statement of the date is an innocent remark, it stills has tsukishima freezing his movements as the breath gets caught in his throat. he slowly places his hands back down on the table and slightly pushes the bento box away from him, no longer hungry. 

well, it’s official. 

today marks five years since his best friend's death.

“tsukki,” her voice breaks through to his ears as his eyes snap open and his body being shaken by her, “tsukki!”

his breathing is rigid as his hands grip onto her arms, the covers thrown off of him as he feels the hot tears streaming down his face. his eyes scan his surroundings in his semi dark room, the only source of light being his bedside lamp. his glasses are placed on the bedside table and his clock shows that it’s currently 1:23 am. then his eyes finally land on her. 

her hair messy from her bed head and her eyes holding a look of concern. her hands slide from his chest up to his face, wiping away the tears that continue to fall from his eyes. he’s confused, throat dry and raw.

“you were screaming,” she whispers softly, one hand leaving his face as she runs it through his hair, “i think you were having a nightmare.”

it hits him. he was. memories of that fateful night replaying in his mind, over and over again. always the same outcome, always him being too late. he squeezes his closed, more tears leaving his eyes as does. yet the gentle touches from her hands wipe them away.

“do you want to talk about it?” she asks gently, causing him to slowly open his eyes to connect with hers. 

he shakes his head no.

“that’s okay,” she nods, “whenever you want to, just know that i’m here. let me get you some water.”

she stands up, turning to leave to walk to the kitchen. his hand latches onto hers, stopping her from leaving. she turns around, her gaze soft as she looks down at their hands then back to his face. he swallows, this is very out of character for him. but he doesn’t want to be alone. 

“will you stay with me?” he gasps out, shyly lowering his gaze, “just for the night.”

her thumb caresses his hand before she gives it a gentle squeeze.

“of course, i’ll stay for as long as you need,” she coos, “let me get you water, then i’ll come to bed.”

he nods his head, releasing his grip on her hand. she turns and walks out of the room, her bare feet padding on the hardwood floor. the sound fades out as he is left with his own thoughts again. he lays back down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. his eyes dry from the tears and his head throbbing for some sleep. yet he can’t go to sleep, he doesn’t want to see it again. he can’t keep seeing that night again. it’ll tear him apart more than it already is. 

before his thoughts could get even more jumbled together, she finally returned with a glass of fresh water. she sets it on his nightstand before crawling into bed next to him, pulling the covers up with her. he turns over to grab the cup, taking a few sips to soothe his throat. he sets it back down and turns off the lamp. he flops back down onto his back. a hand laying underneath his head as he stares at the moonlight leaking in through his window. then he feels her, her arm thrown over his waist as her head lays on his chest and her legs tangle with his.

his heart swells at the contact. it was at this moment, that he knew he could trust her with anything. despite his snarky remarks, silent grief, and witty attitude; she decided to stay with him. how lucky can one get?

“i’m not sure if i’m ready to fully tell you everything yet,” he explains softly, one of his hands drawing circles on her arm, “but just know that things would’ve been different if i was there before…”

“nonsense,” she cuts him off, her face still buried in his chest, “fate works in mysterious ways, kei. sometimes it does shit that seems so unfair, so heartbreaking. we can’t help but blame ourselves sometimes. yet, it’s not your fault. things happen for a reason whether we like it or not. you could’ve prevented it then, but who's to say it wouldn’t just happen later on? stop being so hard on yourself, instead take time to heal from whatever hurt you.”

another tear falls at her words, but god how relieving it was to be on stage three; bargaining.

he was so tired of being angry.

“i’m going out!” he remembers her saying as she struggles to pull her high heel onto her foot, “don’t wait up for me, i’ll text you when i’m on my way home!”

yet it’s morning, and there was no text. no call, no text from her friends; there's just nothing. he paces the living room, frantically calling her number over and over. his hair a mess with how many times his hands had run through it. his pajamas fitting loosely on his skinny body, he has lost some weight hasn’t he? 

“pick up, pick up,” he whispers to himself as his bottom lip is being nervously gnawed at, “y/n pick up, damnit.”

voicemail, again. he aggressively pushes the red button to hang up, harshly throwing his phone onto the couch. he grips the edge of the sofa, his foot tapping anxiously as he tries to wrack his brain around what is happening. where was she? if she got hurt wouldn't he get a call from the hospital? or if it was something else, wouldn’t her friends or the police station call him? he is her emergency contact, he should be hearing something! what if she got kidnapped? maybe that’s why no one has told him anything. what if-

the sound of the front door being unlocked and opening interrupts his thoughts. he whips his head in the direction of the noise to see her walk in. she wears clothes that seem to be her friends as she holds her heels in her hand. she sets them on the ground gently, not wanting to make much noise so she doesn’t wake him. 

“where the hell were you?” he asks loudly, causing her to jump from the surprise.

“oh!” she exclaims, “i spent the night at a friends place, but my phone died. sorry i didn’t text you.”

“you didn’t think of maybe having a friend text me?” he asks in a snarky tone, angrily walking over to her, “i was worried sick, y/n!”

“i’m sorry,” she laughs, “i didn’t think it would’ve been that big of a deal.”

“not a big deal?” he sneers, his hands gripping her biceps in a tight hold, “what if something happened to you, huh?”

“kei, let go,” she warns, “your grip hurts.”

“i can’t lose another important person, y/n!” he yells, taking in a sharp breath at what he just said. 

“another?” she questions, her gaze more confused than angry now. 

“forget it,” he mumbles as reaches behind her to grab his coat. shoving his feet into his shoes before walking out the front door, slamming it right in her face. 

onto stage four: depression.

the last person he expected to see waiting for him at the end of his shift, would be her. her black peacoat contrasting with the red scarf wrapped around her neck. the scarf looking bulky against her frame, but comfortable. they haven’t had a conversation in two weeks, an awkward environment surrounds them since that morning. they kept to their assigned rooms in the apartment, yet she showed more compassion for him than he thought she would. she still set food outside his door, still packed him lunches, still did his laundry, or cleaned his room since he lacked motivation to do anything. opening his eyes felt like a chore lately, yet she still supported him silently. 

“come with me,” she said softly, reaching a hand out to him, “i’m taking you somewhere.”

his eyes are wide, filled with curiosity and confusion at the current situation. yet he still reached his hand towards her mitten-covered one and held onto it. he let her pull him along with her. following her to the train station, sitting patiently for their stop, then following her off the train. their hands never once letting go. he was afraid that if he did, she would disappear in thin air. truly, leaving him completely alone. 

she pulled him all the way to the beach, the waves slightly frozen as they crash into the rocky shores. she pulls him up onto a big rock ledge, sitting down once they reach the top. her legs dangling off the edge and the golden rays of the setting sun hitting her face. tsukishima was still standing, looking out at the perfect view of the sunset. but then averting his eyes to his own person sun sitting on the rock. he follows along and sits next to her, the harsh wind from the ocean hitting both of their faces. 

“i asked your brother about what happened,” she states over the sounds of the waves, “about yamaguchi.”

he lets out a shaky breath at the mention of that name, one he promised himself he wouldn’t say. for his own sanity, he wouldn’t mention that name again. 

“you did?” he asked quietly. 

“i did,” she states confidently, “and i want to apologize.”

he rips his eyes from the view to look at her, meeting her gaze that was already on him. confusion written all over his face. 

“i should’ve texted you that night, given you some indication of where i was. something to at least ease your mind,” she explains, her voice sounding like she was pleading for him to forgive her. all of this time, they both blamed themselves for the situation, “but i had no idea what you have gone through, but now that i do i completely regret my actions.”

tsukishima swallows hard as he looks down at his hands that rest in his lap. so she knows, and now she probably knows that he’s a huge fuck up. he took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for the conversation. 

“how long have you known,” he starts, “about him.”

“about a week,” she whispers, “i didn’t have the heart to bring it up to you, i wasn’t sure how you would react. but then, i’ve seen the grief and guilt eating at you slowly. i can't stand to see you like that anymore, kei.” 

“he called me,” he whispers, lifting his gaze up to her eyes. tears welling up in his eyes, “he called me that night asking for a ride, drunk. i remember that i was so annoyed by that call, that i didn’t leave right away. deciding that five more minutes of sleep was more important than my friend getting home safely. when i finally left and went to pick him up, the other guests said he left with someone else. then i get the call the next morning, the call that he was… well, you know.”

she scoots closer to him, placing her hands on his face. meeting his eyes with such intensity and care, he didn’t deserve her. the tears ran down his face, seeing who would get to the finish line the quickest. his body shakes from the sobs as he finally talks about that night after five years of avoiding it. 

“this isn’t your fault, kei,” she says slowly, meaning every word.

“but if I just left right away-“

“he would’ve still had time to accept that ride,” she states, her eyes full of certainty, “he knew the risk, everyone does when it comes to alcohol. yet, he still said yes. he could’ve said no, you already told him that you would come pick him up. he left you, you didn’t abandon him.”

“i don’t deserve you,” he sobs out, “i really don’t. you’re like the sun, tempting me to be happy with what i did.”

“i’m not trying to make you feel happy about what you did,” she explains as she uses her mittened hand to wipe his tears, “i want you to accept that what happened, happened. there were mistakes made, yes, but you can't change it now. what you can do, is live in his memory. live life for him, and dedicate every waking day to him.”

“i love you,” he gasps out, “i really do, you sunshine. you temptress. so please, if i’m gonna do this i want you to be there with me.”

a smile breaks out on her face, laughing slightly. for once, his eyes weren’t full with the hardening gaze of sadness and guilt. but bright and full of love, and how she longed for that gaze to be shown her way. 

“i’m not going anywhere, kei,” she smiles, “and i love you too.”

his arms wrap around her waist and pull her closer to him, lowering his head to capture her in a kiss. the sun is almost gone behind the horizon now, yet the glow from his own sunshine blinds him with love. tempting him to deepen the kiss as their grips on each other tighten.

he was right, he doesn’t like being alone.

it seems that he’s not anymore. 

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 13- Healthy Competition

Summary: Mary decides she wants to compete in her first horse riding competition, so the family take an outing and Frank gets a first-hand experience of the world Fliss once called her life.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  This is very Mary/horsey heavy so apologies in advance. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 12

October 2018

"Lissy, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Course you can sweetie." Fliss looked at Mary as she approached the sofa, Laptop in her arms. "Everything OK?”

"Yeah." Mary nodded, “Just before, some of the other girls at the yard were talking about a jumping competition in a few weeks and I was wondering…” She sat down, perching her laptop on her knees "Do you think maybe I could take Monty?"

"Do you wanna take him?" Fliss asked and Mary nodded. "Then of course you can"

"Really?" Mary's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, it's been ages since I went to a competition. It'll be fun!"

"I wasn't sure I would be good enough." Mary shrugged.

"Mary, Monty could do a jumping course with his eyes closed." Fliss smiled. “And you're plenty good enough. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. It’s about enjoying yourself. I take it you got the website there?" She nodded to the laptop.

Mary grinned and opened it up. Fliss took it from her and quickly scanned the information. "FireAnt Farm Equestrian Centre, Tarpon Springs..." Fliss mused, quickly grabbing her phone to locate the area on Google maps.

"Is it too far?" Mary questioned.

"Nope." Fliss shook her head. "Probably take us forty minutes in the wagon. I used to travel much further."

"There's a lot of different classes to enter." Mary shuffled towards Fliss so she could see the screen too "I wasn't sure which one I would go in."

"I'd put you in the beginners class." Fliss replied as she read the details. "It's forty cm max height and you've jumped those plenty. And then why don't you try a few flat classes whilst we are there? The schedule doesn't look like they would clash."

"Flat class?" Mary frowned.” You mean like dressage?"

"Kinda, it’s about showing your pony off. You basically do a go round as a group in each pace on both reins and then you do a quick individual show. It’s easy, I used to do a simple figure of eight."

"Oh. Okay." Mary shrugged. "I never saw that before."

"Well, let's have a look." Fliss smiled, opening up a browser to YouTube. She flicked her eyes over to Alex who was fast asleep and then spent the next fifteen minutes or so showing Mary various videos of different kids showing classes on the Web.

"So Monty is a Welsh Pony." Fliss nodded.” Which means he doesn't need to be plaited, or braided, whatever. We turn him out true to type which means we just need to tidy his mane and tail up a bit. And as he's over fifteen he can go in the Pre-Veteran class. So they look at how he moves and performs for his age group. Why don't you do that which is the forth one in the morning and then do the junior rider. Then there's a long enough break before the beginners jumping."

"So I get to do three classes?" Mary grinned and Fliss nodded.

“Hey, it says here they're running a winter league." Fliss mused "Is that what you wanna do? Compete in the league or just the one off?"

"A league like they do for baseball or football?"

"Exactly that." Fliss nodded. "So you join up and it says here you get points immediately for just going in the class. They place to sixth position and award points. So you’d get ten points for finishing first, eight for second, six for third and so on. Then the person with the most points takes the Championship overall at the end."

 She pointed at the screen “Say’s here the first one is on 3rd November and they run to March next year, so there’s five overall. What do you think?”

Mary grinned “Bring it on!”

Fliss smiled as Mary gave her a hi-five.

“Why don’t you bring Bronson?” Mary asked, “Or Cap?”

Fliss shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair on everyone there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I competed at a professional level” Fliss shrugged “It wouldn’t be very sporting of me if I entered a class full of hobbyists. I would have hated it when I was there myself. The only way I’d do it is if I went in and declared I was 'hors concours' or HC as it’s known.”

“Hors concours?” Mary repeated “What’s that?”

“It means that I’d be taking part without actually competing. So I might enter a competition to give a young horse experience or what-have-you but my marks would not be counted as such.”

“Bronson is only six.” Mary said “You said he had never done a jumping competition before.”

“He hasn’t.” Fliss pondered. “Maybe next season. This one we concentrate on you.”

Mary grinned and then Fliss turned her attention to what they needed to get her. They spent a bit of time looking at Tweed showing jackets, Mary deciding on the type of thing she liked before Fliss found a decent value second hand one on a local Equestrian Buy and Sell group on Facebook which Mary eagerly nodded at, the same seller also having a Navy Blue show-jumping jacket the same size.

“When you’re not growing so fast I’ll buy you brand new ones.” Fliss smiled, tapping in a message to the seller arranging to collect the items the following mornings. “So you have your DeNiro boots which we can polish, your short boots as well, you have a hat that will be ok, it should be velvet but for the time being it will do, so we need canary and white jodhs… a show shirt, a tie. I think we need to take a trip up to the Tack Shack tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes let’s!” Mary smiled “I have some of my pocket money saved, I can put that towards it.”

“Put what towards what?” Frank asked as he walked into the family room. He dropped a kiss to Fliss’ cheek and ruffled Mary’s hair, causing her to scowl up at him. “More horse riding crap?” he nodded to the screen of the laptop.

“It’s not crap, how dare you.” Fliss scoffed as Frank gave a chuckle. “We were talking about all the stuff Mary is going to need for her first competition in two weeks.”

At that Frank paused, looking at Mary. “You’re going to a competition?”

“Yah-hah.” She nodded and Frank smiled.

“That’s great Stack!”.

“I’m gonna do three classes. Two showing and one jumping.” She told him enthusiastically. “So we already sorted my jacket and Fliss is taking me to the Tack Shack tomorrow for the rest of it.”

“Why what else do you need?”

“Jodhpurs, a shirt and a tie.” Mary nodded reeling it off. “Oh and a new hat at some point but Fliss says the one that I have will do.”

“Why do you need another hat?”

“Well strictly speaking show hats should be velvet or suede.” Fliss shrugged “But for this level it won’t matter.”

“Sounds like another bashing my card is gonna take.” Frank grumbled good-naturedly and Fliss swatted at him. He chuckled again and stood up straight from where he had been leaning on the back of the couch, heading to the fridge to retrieve his standard post work beer.

“Can I wear the same tie for show-jumping and showing?” Mary asked.

“Hmmmm possibly. We can get two.” Fliss shrugged. “One that matches your tweed and then you can pick whatever you want colour wise for jumping. Have a look on the website, see if there’s anything you like.”

Mary grinned and took the lap top off Fliss who stood up, stretching slightly. She headed over to Frank, slipping her arms round his waist.

“She’s excited.” He stated, watching Mary as she tapped at the keyboard. His chest was warm at the utter delight on the young girl’s face as she was searching different coloured ties. “What sparked her wanting to do this?” “Someone at the yard. She overheard them talking and asked if she could go.” Fliss smiled. “She wants to do the Winter League” “They run a league?” “Yeah.” Fliss smiled “Five competitions in total. It’ll be good for her, a bit of healthy competition. I already managed to grab her two jackets. Both second hand but no point shelling out loads when she’s gonna grow out of them by the end of the season. Tweeds cost a fortune.”

“How much are the hats she was talking about?” Frank asked, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes flicking back to Mary then to Fliss.

“Erm, her size probably about eighty bucks, why?”

“Just get her one.” He smiled gently, dropping his voice “She never asks for stuff like this so…”

“You big softie.” Fliss smiled, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And thank you.” Frank gently, bumped his nose against hers.

“What for?” Fliss frowned.

“For this.” He nodded to Mary “Doing stuff that makes her excited and happy.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Fliss looked at him, and then for the first time she noticed the look on his face. He was watching Mary, his eyes not quite as full of their usual sparkle. “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath and looked at Mary “Hey Stack, have you spoken to grandmother this week?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “I was gonna later, why?”

“Why don’t you give her a call before dinner?” He suggested “You can tell her about your competition.”

“Okay.” Mary shrugged standing up “But if you wanted to talk in private you could just ask.”

“Fine, we wanna talk in private” Frank looked at her and Mary snorted as she stood up and looked at him.

“You forget I know you, Frank.”

“Oh, trust me I don’t.” He shot after her as she laughed, climbing the stairs.

Fliss turned to Frank as he sat down on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Honey, what is it?”

“I spoke to Greg before.” He looked at her as she moved to stand between his legs. “He still hasn’t heard back from her father about the adoption.”

“Okay.” Fliss dropped her hands to his shoulders as his rest on her hips “That doesn’t mean he’s gonna cause an issue.”

“No, but Greg’s twitchy, I can tell. I mean if the asshole wasn’t bothered about Mary surely we would have heard by now. It’s been almost eight weeks.” Frank wrinkled his nose.

“Baby there’s nothing we can do about it.” Fliss soothed “Yeah, if he protests it’s gonna be a little more agro than we thought but…well, we’ll just have to face it when it happens, ok?”

“I know I just…well I was hoping this would be done for Christmas, that’s all.”

“It might be yet, it’s not even November. Is there anything Greg can do?”

“He’s gonna send a chaser letter but other than that not really.” Frank shrugged before he sighed “I know you’re right, there’s nothing we can do but that doesn’t stop me worrying about it.”

“I know, because you love her. We both do. I’m worried as well but like you said to me, whatever happens we face it together.” She leaned down to give him a quick peck “Now, change of subject…you gonna come with us to the competition in a few weeks? Be nice for us all to go. Can be our first proper family outing.”

“Will there be beer?” Frank pondered, his hand sliding down the outside of her thighs and back up again.

“We can take a cool box” she smiled.

Frank chuckled “Of course I’ll come. Wouldn’t miss her first competition for the world.”

******

October ticked into November, bringing with it a slight drop in temperature and still no movement on the Adoption. However, Frank and Fliss had pushed it to the back of their minds which in the grand scheme of things wasn’t that hard as Mary’s excitement over her impending first competition was infectious.

When Fliss took her to the Tack Shack and told her that Frank said she could get a competition hat, Mary had almost cried, giving Fliss a huge hug but reserving the biggest hug of all for her Uncle when she got home. She’d paraded around the family room in her show gear, showing off her outfit for both Fliss, Frank and then again for Verity and Bill, and on a video call to Evelyn.

She practiced with Fliss or Joanne every day after school. They taught her the ring etiquette, how to talk to the judge and also set up a full course for her to practice on, Fliss teaching her all about how the first round was about getting clear and the jump off also introduced the element of time. Fliss felt an overwhelming sense of pride as the girl improved day by day and found herself actually believing that she’d do pretty well when the day came.

The afternoon before the show was spent with one final practice and then Mary had to give Monty a bath. Whilst he was drying off she then loaded the wagon with her jackets, cleaned her tack and then carried that to the wagon too where Fliss placed it in the tack locker, locking it up.

Frank was under the bonnet of said wagon, checking the oil and the coolant to make sure it was ready for the trip in the morning when he heard footsteps on the gravel and he looked up to see Mary hopping up the steps into the back of the wagon.

“What’s she checking now?” He looked over at Fliss, straightening himself up and reaching for the rag that was tucked in the back pocket of his dirty jeans. Fliss didn’t reply, she was too busy scanning Frank from head to toe, and making no attempt to even disguise the fact she was perving on him. “Earth to Lissy…”

“Yeah, sorry…what?” She asked, looking at him, biting her lip.

He snorted as he wiped his hands on the rag, shaking his head “And you call me a pervert.”

Fliss shrugged “I told you, the whole dirty mechanic things does stuff to me.”

“And the dirty mechanic will do stuff to you if you give him half a chance.” He grinned and she smirked, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll corrupt our son.” She grinned, placing her hands over his ears, where he was positioned in the baby sling at her chest. “Mind you, he’s probably already scarred for life after your antics last night.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining.” Frank smirked. “Quite the opposite in fact.”

Fliss bit her lip a the memory of a particularly good round of sex the night before, which had resulted in her on all fours in the middle of the mattress. Looking at Frank she shrugged and he snorted, closing the bonnet of the wagon.

“All set.” He nodded towards it. “Oil topped up, coolant and water levels good…”

“So you didn’t find anything to fix, like I told you that you wouldn’t.”

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure it’s safe for my girls, it hasn’t been anywhere in a while.” He shrugged

“Joanne used it yesterday to go to the wholesalers for feed and shavings.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah, well…whatever, I make no apologies for wanting to check anyway.” He smiled, taking the kiss she offered.

Mary jumped down from the back of the wagon and reached up to lock the back door before she trotted round and handed Fliss the keys.

“You happy you got everything?” Frank looked at her. “Seeing as that’s like the five-hundredth time you checked.”

“Don’t exaggerate.” Mary rolled her eyes as Alex made a noise and the three of them looked at him before Mary pointed. “See, even he thinks you’re an idiot.”

“Rude.” Frank grumbled.

After one last check on Monty who was sparkling white (although Fliss knew they’d end up giving him another quick clean up in the morning), they headed home and after a quick shower Frank lit the BBQ outside. The family enjoyed a good grill for dinner, before Fliss disappeared upstairs and came back with a wrapped packaged. Frank frowned, as she handed it to Mary.

“Everyone needs one of those for competitions.” She smiled, as Mary looked at her, taking it gently.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see!” Fliss rolled her eyes as she sat back down on the seat, glancing at Frank who had Alex against his chest, his head resting on his shoulder.

Mary tore the wrapping paper off and gasped as she held up the pink gilet top. It had a small horse’s head embroidered on the front right hand breast but it was what was on the back that had caught her eye. She looked at it, then to Fliss and with a stunned smile turned it round so Frank could see. It was a motif of a horse jumping her fence with ‘Mary Adler’ arched over the top in gold, cursive writing and ‘Monte Carlo VI’- Monty’s show-name- underneath in the same typeface. Small diamantes were scattered around the entire design which caught the lights that were dotted around the garden and Frank’s face broke into a huge smile as Mary looked at him, then to Fliss.

“Sally has one of these for Jackson.” She whispered. “I always wanted one, how did you know?”

Fliss smiled “Sally’s mum told me you asked where she got it from. I thought I’d get you one. It’s a bit bigger so will fit over your jackets and a hoody if you need it to. You can wear it in the collecting ring and then take it off before you go in to do your shows and jumping.” “Lissy I love it, thank you so much!” Mary stood up and rounded the table to give Fliss a huge hug. Fliss kissed her head and cupped her cheek.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Well, come on.” Frank nodded to it. “Let’s see it on!”

Mary grinned and shrugged the gilet on over her jumper and beamed, giving them a twirl. Fliss told her to stand still and took a photo of the front and the back if it, before setting her phone down on the table.

After a little more chat, given the fact they had a busy day they all headed up to bed. Frank tucked Mary in before Fliss popped in to say goodnight, Thor jumping up onto Mary’s bed clearly deciding he was staying there for the evening with Fred. Fliss closed the door and made her way to the master bedroom where Frank was led on top of the bed in his boxers, Alex sleeping in the basinet as his dad flicked through the channels on the TV.

“How much did that gilet set you back?” he asked and Fliss wrinkled her nose.

“Does it matter?” “Not really.” Frank chuckled. “You spoil her.”

“So do you.” Fliss shrugged and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans before opening the door to the en-suite.

“But if it makes you feel better, I got a present for you too, Sailor.” She grinned, shedding her underwear and beckoning for him to follow her.

Frank blinked, smirked and jumped up off the bed, the pair of them giggling as he dispensed of his boxers and backed his future wife into the shower, shutting the cubicle door behind him.

*****

Fliss and Mary set off early the next morning, whilst Frank took a little more time making sure he had everything Alex needed before he headed out to his truck and keyed the location into his GPS. When he arrived he parked up, got Alex settled in the stroller and wandered down the yard. As he rounded the corner, he gave a blink, the place was packed with horses and people, all sorts of different competitions going on. After a little walk around he located their wagon and as luck would have it, Fliss and Mary were making their way back. He smiled, Mary was dressed in her older jodhpurs, and a hoody with her personalised gilet proudly donning her top half where-as Fliss looked every bit the cowgirl in her jeans, plaid shirt, cowboy boots and her hat.

“Hey!” She greeted him, giving him a quick kiss before she looked at Alex, her hand stroking his cheek.

“You all set?” Frank asked and Mary grinned.

“Yeah, we booked in, registered…I got my membership number...” she held up the laminated piece of paper with the digits 287 printed on “…and we got about 40 minutes until my first class.”

“So we need to get him off the wagon, quick bush down and then you can get on to warm up.” Fliss said, nodding to the ramp. Frank moved the stroller out of the way and he and Fliss undid the latches, dropping it down as Mary hopped up and undid he partition. She brought Monty down and set about undoing his travel boots and his tail bandage, taking his tail out of the braid before she hopped up to get her brushes.

“She’s like a coiled spring.” Fliss grinned, looking at Frank who chuckled.

“Yeah, she doesn’t do anything by halves.” He smiled, looking around “It’s busy.”

“First one of a season always is.” Fliss mused “There’s over twenty in her first class and 11 so far in her second. No idea about the jumping, I didn’t ask. I told her not to bother about it, as long as she enjoys herself…”

Frank smiled as Fliss gently touched his arm and set about helping Mary. Fifteen minutes later Monty was tacked up and Frank, from what little he knew about horses, had to admit they looked pretty smart. Her tweed was a dark green with a check pattern of brown and pinks, her show shirt was cream and the tie she was wearing was a green and pink striped one, matching perfectly. Fliss had braided Mary’s hair so it hung down her back and had secured it with a matching ribbon and as she jammed her new hat on she grinned at Frank.

“Looking good Stack” he smiled.

“Ok, ready?” Fliss asked.

Mary nodded and hopped up onto the small step at the back of the wagon, vaulting onto Monty, the pony simply standing still and observing his surroundings as if he did this every day.

Frank pushed the stroller as Fliss walked besides him, Mary slightly ahead as she made her way into the collecting ring. Fliss followed her in and Frank stood at the side, watching as Fliss made sure the girth on the saddle was tight enough before she nodded, spoke to Mary who also gave a nod and walked away from Fliss. Fliss stayed in the ring with her, gently giving her instructions, helping Mary to warm Monty in. And then Mary’s class was called. Fliss took the gilet off her before Mary looked over at Frank. He gave her a huge grin and a thumbs up and she smiled back before he saw her take a deep breath and follow another rider into the ring.

Fliss joined him and they made their way down a little so they could watch. Monty was easily the smallest pony in the class and Frank frowned.

“He looks tiny.” “He is only 14’2 hands high.” Fliss shrugged “But this is a veteran class, for horses fifteen and over. So they’ll look at how he moves, not how he looks next to the other horses.”

“Oh.” Franks shrugged, turning his attention to Mary, then the two women stood in the middle “Are they the judges?”

“The one in the hat is the judge.” Fliss said “The other is a steward. She basically shouts the instructions out and helps the judge.”

Frank watched as the woman instructed the group to trot on. They did a few laps around the ring before they set off into canter. Mary’s face was set in concentration as thy ride repeated the action on the opposite rein before they all lined up.

“Now they do their individual shows.” Fliss said, her eyes focussing on the action in the ring. “This is what Mary was practicing yesterday when you showed up.”

There were two horses before it was Mary’s turn. She walked Monty out of the line-up and stood him, perfectly square in front of the judge. She chatted to the woman who walked around Monty to take a look at him, before Mary set off to do her show. Frank glanced at Fliss and smiled as his girl was beaming with pride as Mary completed her show, foot (or hoof) perfect before she halted, saluted to the judge and then gave Monty a huge pat. She glanced over at Fliss who gave her a thumbs up, smiling.

All in all it took about forty minutes to work through the class, and once the last person had done they all set off in a walk as the judge was muttering something, her eyes flicking along the ponies. Eventually she nodded and the steward walked out, pointing to a large bay. A few people started clapping as the Bay moved inwards to take first place, and then next was a smaller chestnut and then she pointed at Mary.

“Fuck, Frank she got third!” Fliss almost exploded as she started to cheer, Frank giving a grin as he also clapped, Mary’s face split into a huge grin as she took her place. 4th, 5th and 6th were awarded, rosettes were handed out and then the placings took a lap of honour before exiting the ring.

“Well done!” Fliss beamed at Mary as she grinned, looking at her yellow rosette “3rd out of 20! Mary that’s amazing for your first go!”

Mary nodded, taking a deep breath, the tears filling her eyes “I’m so happy!” she spluttered and Frank gave a chuckle, looping his arm around her, giving Monty a pat.

But that was nothing compared to her reaction when she won second place in the next class she was in, the Junior Rider. Fliss really did explode at that point, and Mary burst into tears, the judge looking a little shocked before she smiled at Mary, handing her the blue rosette.

After they’d calmed Mary down, they untacked Monty as there was a little wait until the jumping started and Frank headed off to grab them a burger from the fast food van at the far end of the yard. They sat on the ramp of the wagon, Frank teasing Mary as usual, before they heard a little cough and all looked up.

“I’m really sorry to bother you.” A woman spoke shyly “But are you Fliss Gallagher.”

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled “Erm, hi.”

“My daughter…she’s a huge fan. She followed you and Charlotte DuJardin in the 2012s and she’s…well, she’s hiding over there because she wouldn’t come speak to you.” The woman bashfully admitted and Fliss felt her cheeks growing red.

“Oh…thanks.” She said, “Which one is she?”

“The blonde over there…”“Be back in a sec.” She smiled at Frank, standing up.

Frank looked at Mary, his mouth falling open “What just happened?”

“Fliss is a horse riding celebrity Frank.” Mary shrugged. “She was a huge star until her accident.”

Frank turned and watched as Fliss spoke to the teen who was clearly in awe, and then smiled and nodded when her mom waved her phone. She posed for a quick photo before she turned and started to walk back towards them.

“I feel kinda sorry for her in a way.” Mary sighed.

“How do you mean?” Frank looked at his niece.

“Well, imagine finally doing the job you always dreamed of…only to have it cut short like she did.” Mary spoke, her mouth full of burger “Half the show-jumping teams around the world have people in them that are in their sixties you know. Fliss was only 28.”

Frank pondered for a moment as Fliss approached, he hadn’t really thought about it from that point of view before, nor had he even considered for one second that Fliss might still be recognised. Either way, he felt a little warmth in his chest as she flopped back down next to him, reaching for the rest of her burger.

“Can I get an autograph?” he asked.

“Piss off.” She snorted as he laughed, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

Despite having enjoyed Mary’s flat shows, Frank did NOT enjoy the jumping. It scared the shit out of him. Fliss walked the course with Mary, now dressed in her jumping outfit of white breeches, navy jacket and a bright pink and blue sparkly tie as they examined the route she would take. And then far too soon in his opinion it was her turn to go in and he wasn’t sure he could watch.

“And entering the ring now we have Mary Adler riding Monte Carlo VI…” the announcer spoke on the tanoy as Mary trotted Monty in. The buzzer sounded and she picked up canter and pointed the pony at the first jump. Monty cleared it with ease and did the same with the 2nd, 3rd…all the way to the 11th leaving one to go.

“She clears this she’s in the jump off.” Fliss muttered. Frank took a deep breath, watching as Mary approached the small oxer and Monty took off. His back feet brushed the pole and Fliss held her breath, but thankfully despite rolling, it didn’t fall.

“Wait, that means she has to do that again, right?” Frank asked as Fliss clapped and cheered as Mary headed towards the gate to exit the field.

“Yeah, but not as many.” Fliss said, as she headed over to Mary.

Not as many, but twice as damned fast as Frank found out. The ponies where whizzing over the 5 jumps in the jump off, which were part of the course but not in order, the numbers being 2, 7, 5,9 and 8 the turns being tighter as the idea was still to go clear, but in the event more than one clear was achieved it went down to time.

The riders were in no order, and Mary decided to go a little further down the line so she could watch the others take the turns, a tactic Fliss suggested. By the time she was due to go in there were 5 clears already.

“Ok, so you’re gonna have to go for speed too.” Fliss said, looking at her “But the main thing is try and stay clear. If you want my advice, cut the corner between numbers 5 and 6. Everyone is looping round 6 to get to 9 but if you hang a right as soon as you’re over 5 you’ll have a few seconds off. Its tight, and he won’t have as many strides, probably 3 max, but let him take you ok?”

Mary nodded, swallowed and headed in. She took the first jumps easily and then after the 3rd did exactly what Fliss said. Monty put in an extra half stride, however, which threw Mary’s balance a little as he took off and for a horrible moment Frank thought she was going to fall but she didn’t, she regained her balance and turned, taking the last 2 jumps easily.

Mary secured 4th place in her jumping, the smile on her face was infectious and Frank found himself beaming along with them as they walked back to the wagon.

***** “Where’s Stack?” Frank asked as Fliss emerged into the room dropping the bag of Mary’s show clothing onto the sofa. Thor, who had been with Joanna whilst they had been out all day, flopped down onto the rug in front of the TV.

“She’s giving Monty some treats after he did so well today, and chewing Jo’s ear off about the competition. Jo said she’d watch her back over when she’s done.” Fliss smiled, reaching for Alex as he started to gripe “You hungry, Bean?”

Frank smiled as she settled on the sofa, undoing her shirt so she could feed him and he sat on the arm, looking down at her.

“She did so well today.” He said, “I never in a million years dreamed she’d be doing anything like this.” “Well, I did warn you the first time you walked onto my yard that once you have that horse smell on your hands, you’re hooked.”

“Don’t I know it?” Frank grinned, kissing her cheek.

A little while later, Fliss finished up feeding Alex and peered down at him, the baby gazing at her, waving his eyes, his lips curling up into a smile and Fliss laughed.

“He’s smiling again.” She said.

“Sure it’s not wind?” Frank teased.

“Err, no I just burped him.” Fliss scofed indignantly “They start smiling at 6 weeks, he’s smiling. I can tell.”

Frank chuckled and peered down, smiling at his baby and earning himself one back in return. He gently took him from Fliss so she could do up her top before he set him down and followed her into the kitchen where, upon examining the contents of the fridge, they settled on take out for dinner.

“So I know Mary did but did you enjoy it?” Frank asked as Fliss pulled a beer for them both out of the fridge.

“Yeah, yeah I did. You know, seeing it there, all those people competing…there’s nothing like that around here.”  “Got me thinking, maybe I could run something like that at some point down the line.” “Sandybrook Show huh?” Frank smiled as he popped the caps off their beers, settling down at the kitchen counter.

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it would be kind of cool to expand into stuff like that.” She took a drink “I’ve actually been giving it a bit of thought in general.”

“What, competitions?” Frank asked.

“No, expanding.” Fliss swallowed a mouthful of drink “The land at the back has always been available to me to buy, the old Farmer said he would give it to me whenever I want, and it would add another ten acres to the portfolio. I could grow the yard area, more stables, more grazing, hold events like that one today…” she trailed off, frowning as she noticed the look on Frank’s face. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“No, I mean yeah, I do. We always talked about expanding your business.” He hesitated “I guess I didn’t realise it would be so soon.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss looked at him. “I’ve been up and running now for almost three years.”

“I mean after Alex being born.” Frank said, his eyes flicking to where his baby son was asleep in the basinet. “He’s barely ten weeks old Liss, don’t you think you’d be taking on too much?”

“I’d manage” she waved her hand “I could recruit more staff.”

 She could see from the look on Frank’s face he wasn’t convinced. She took a deep breath and turned in her seat so her body was facing his “Sailor,I can tell you’re not happy about the idea.”

 “It’s not that I’m not happy.” Frank shook his head, and that was the truth. The fact she had such drive and want to build something better was amazing, he loved it in her, but he was struggling to find the words to voice what he was feeling about it. “Ok, I’m…just gonna come out and say this and I don’t want you to fly off the handle…four weeks ago you were petrified of leaving Alex with your mom. You still don’t like being away from him now, and…”

“Of course I don’t like it.” Fliss frowned “I’m breast feeding him, and-“

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her “So you take on this extra work, what are you going to do? You wanna put him in Creche, find a Childminder?”

Fliss shrugged a little “Mum said she would have him but I don’t want to put that on her, not every day. Maybe two days a week and then I don’t have to be at the yard all the time. Joanne runs things now and I can just…”

Frank chuckled “I know you. Name me one day in your pregnancy that you didn’t pop in. You were teaching like almost until the day you dropped. And before you start I’m not saying that was a bad thing, far from it. You said yourself it kept you active and your brain engaged. I’m just saying there’s no way you’ll take a back seat. It’s bad enough trying to get you to stick to your Sundays off.”

“I know.” Fliss nodded “But that’s something I’ll have to get stricter at.”

 “Ok.” Frank took a deep breath “Whatever you say.”

 Fliss frowned “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

 “Dismiss what I said.”

“I wasn’t.” Frank shook his head.

“Yes you were, you just completely shrugged it off.”

“No.” Frank said, his voice remaining calm “I said whatever you say. If you say that’s what you’re gonna do then…”

“Don’t you want me to do this or something?” Fliss asked and Frank took a deep sigh.

“Liss, we literally just went over this. I never said I didn’t want you to do it. Quite the opposite. I just…well I think it’s too soon ok?” he looked at her “Alex isn’t sleeping through yet, you’re tired during the day as you tell me when I get home. Hell, I’m tired and my job is nowhere near as physically demanding as yours not to mention the fact I’m not the one feeding him and…” he licked his lips

“You fix boats.” Fliss looked at him, a little sullenly “That’s physical.”

“Not as much as I used to.” Frank shook his head “I’m based in the office a lot now, as you well know because you complain I don’t come home full of grease as much as I used to. We won’t mention the fact that I’m growing a little…how do I put this, softer round the edges now because of that, hence the weights in the garage”. He smiled, attempting to make a joke out of it as he could recognise only too well the look in her eye. It wasn’t full blown anger yet but if he didn’t cut the discussion off soon it was going to be. “Look...” he reached out and took her hand “We’re incredibly lucky. We’re in a position where you don’t need to rush back to work. My job pays well, your business brings you in a very decent turnover each month, we have savings…I just think that we should take advantage of that and you should take a few more months off, maybe look at going back in March, say. Take a full 6 off to be with him, enjoy being a mom.”

 “Is that what you want me to do?” Fliss asked after a moments pause.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Frank sighed, his tone now starting to betray his frustration. “I can’t and won’t stop you doing anything, you know this. I just want you to consider your options, that’s all.” Fliss took a deep breath, gave a nod and pushed her stool back, draining the rest of her beer. “Where you going?” Frank frowned.

 “For a shower.” She said simply “I need to get out of these jeans and this shirt.”

 Frank gave a groan “Why do you do this?” “Do what?”

“Every time we have a slight difference in opinion on something you clam up.” He looked at her “Let’s talk this through, Liss. Don’t walk away.”

“I’ve nothing else to say.” Fliss said, her voice ending in a little chuckle. “You’ve made your opinion on the matter very clear.”

“Yeah, and now I’m waiting to hear yours.”

 Fliss took a deep breath “I don’t wanna take six months off.”

“Ok.” Frank nodded “Then you don’t have to. I still think it’s too soon for you to be looking at expanding though.”

“I know what you think Frank, you told me.” Fliss shrugged “You don’t need to keep repeating yourself.”

“I keep repeating myself because you seem to be completely and utterly dismissing what I’m saying.” Frank looked at her.

“For fucks sake Frank.” Fliss looked at him. “Stop talking to me like I’m one of the kids.”

“Well to be honest, you’re doing a pretty good job of acting like one.” Frank looked at Fliss, his eyebrow raised as he felt his temper beginning to flare “And a petulant one at that.”

Fliss gave a chuckle of ironic laughter “Oh that’s rich, you calling me a petulant child. You’re the one kicking off because I’m refusing to entertain some stupid idea about taking 6 months off work”

“You know, a lot of women would kill to be in the position to be able to do that.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“So?” she frowned “With the greatest of respects, I don’t care. Yes, I’m lucky. I get that but I don’t want to Frank!”

“And I’m not saying you have to! Jesus Christ!” Frank groaned “When did I, at any point in this discussion, ever say you have to stay at home huh? You tell me exactly when those words left my mouth….” Fliss looked at him, and blinked as her mouth closed and she swallowed. “See, you can’t because I didn’t say it!”

“Well, you might as well have.” She glared at him “You’re trying to control my decision about what I feel is right for me…”

“You think…” Frank cocked his head to one side, as he felt a flash of angry heat rush up his neck to his cheeks at her words. His temper was really brewing now, the angry knot in his stomach growing tighter by the second. “You think I’m trying to control you?”

“Well aren’t you?”

“God damnit Lissy!” Frank’s voice was loud as he stood up from his chair, “You’re downright infuriating at times. No, that’s not what I’m doing. At all. What I’m doing is trying to have a sensible discussion with you.”

“Well I don’t want to discuss it anymore.” Fliss’s voice raised “So, like I said. I’m going for a shower. Or would you like to discuss that as well.”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Frank groaned his hands rubbing his face as he let out a frustrated noise, shaking his head. “You know what, I give in. Do what you want. Shower, buy more land, work, don’t work…just…whatever.”  

Fliss shot Frank a glare, and then a small noise from the basinet jerked them both out of the stare-down and Fliss headed over to pick him up. Turning she made for the door, baby in her arms.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked.

“Going for a shower, like I just said.”

“Well leave him with me.” Frank frowned, “What’s the point of taking him upstairs just to lay him in the crib whilst you shower?”

“Because I want to take him with me.” Fliss looked at Frank. “I can leave the door open. I like him being there. Is it a problem?”

Frank snorted, his hands on his hips as he looked at his feet “No problem.” He huffed out a little laugh as he raised his face to look at her “But you tell me you’re ready to go back to work when you can’t bear to be apart for the ten minutes it takes you to shower.”

Fliss’ face fell and Frank felt a pang of guilt at what he had said, but in his mind it was true. She hated leaving him, and he didn’t want her to be in a position where she felt she needed to, whether it was to prove something to herself or everyone else. He’d never tell her this but he loved the homely feel of coming home and his future wife and baby son both waiting for him, either on the sofa or the sun lounger. It was a wonderful, caring, passionate environment that he’d never had before and if he was brutally honest he’d quite happily see her at home until Alex was back in school. She didn’t need to work, but she wanted to, he got that. And he would never stop her. But the fact was she was still on edge about their son being left with people and he could almost picture the melt down she was going to have if she rushed back.

“Fuck you” Fliss seethed at him, drawing him out of his thoughts as Alex began to cry, clearly picking up the vibes in the room. Frank sighed, shaking his head as Fliss began to soothe him

“Lissy, just…”

But she didn’t stay to listen, instead she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, Alex’s little whimpers dying in his ears as she made her way up the stairs.

The argument made for a tense family dinner. They both tried their best to be normal, talking to Mary about her day, not wanting to but a dampener on it but as ever she was sharp. When Frank tucked her in, she asked him about it and he assured her there was nothing to worry about and that it was a silly disagreement which would be forgotten in the morning.

He hoped.

Fliss didn’t really speak to him much the rest of the evening, taking herself to bed early and she was flat out when he came up a little later. With a sigh he gently brushed the hair off her cheek before he kissed her temple and settled down himself.

He woke in the middle of the night, and still half asleep reached out to Fliss’ side of the bed but she wasn’t there. He sat up, blinking and then saw that Alex’s bedside crib was empty too. Frowning, he climbed out of bed and as he headed downstairs he could head soft baby cries from the family room.  

“Hey, everything okay?” Frank asked, opening the door and looking at Fliss as she was stood by the large window seat, gently rocking Alex as she tried to calm him.

“Yeah he’s grouchy.” She said, “I’ve fed him, he’s been changed…” “Want me to take him?” He offered and she shook her head.

"It’s fine Frank, I got him. I mean, that is what you wanted isn’t it? Me, being a good little wifey-to-be and mummy, right?"

Frank blinked before he gave a groan “Really, do we have to do this now?” he sighed, shaking his head. “I never said that, at all.”

“What it sounded like to me.” “How would you know?” He looked at her “You were so focussed on your position that you didn’t listen to a damned word I said. Because if you had you would have understood my point of view instead of accusing me of trying to control you.” He took a deep breath “When are you going to get it into your head that I am not your shit bag ex?”

“I didn’t say that.” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head

“But you thought it.” Frank eyed her “I could see it on your face.”

“There you go again, presuming you know what I’m thinking.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are.” Fliss looked at him “What I was actually thinking was how shit it was you couldn’t just support me with what I wanted to do.” “Baby, I do support you, and I’ll back you with whatever you want to do, but I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’m happy about something when I’m not.” Frank shook his head.

“How can you back me when you don’t agree with what I want?”

“Because that’s what being together is about.” Frank looked at her “It doesn’t matter what I think…” “It matters to me.” Frank let out a groan “We’re going round in circles…” he shook his head as Alex’s screaming grew louder “Look, why don’t you let me take him? You go get some rest, we can talk about this later.” “I said I got him its fine.” Fliss shook her.

“Oh for fucks- just let me help will you?”

“Go back to bed Frank.” Fliss blazed it him in the dim light of the family room, her brown eyes angry “You have work in the morning, I don’t. Remember?”

He words themselves were innocuous, but the sheer sarcastic way she said them wasn’t. Frank felt the weary anger from their earlier argument which he had been fighting so hard to keep buried, slowly seeping back into his veins. He’d tried to explain his point of view, over and over again but she was being too fucking stubborn to even attempt to see it through his eyes. As he watched her cradling their sobbing son to her chest he didn't have the energy to keep going round and round in circles, not at 3 in the morning anyway. So instead he gave into the frustration he was feeling, and shot a stinging barb, one simple word spoken with exasperation as he shook his head and turned to leave the room. "Bitch"

**** Chapter 14

[criticizing-blogger]

Fudge

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warning: cursing, gore

Word count: 3423

In a small, snowy town of Minnesota, a black Chevy impala drives into a motel parking lot and settles into an empty spot up front. Two men, brothers, stepped out. The driver was a shorter man with a crew cut style;  his hair a straight, dark blond, matching his smooth forehead to his strong cheekbones and chiseled jawline. His eyes were hues of a forest, an earthy green that revives grass from the harsh winter. His stature is short, a brown shirt covered with a black and red flannel and that covered by a brown, leather jacket as his pants were blue going over his brown boots.

The passenger was tall, taller than his brother. His hair was shaggy brown and long, shoulder length to be exact but brought wonders to his features. The man’s eyes were the softest of brown, infused with a deep green as if he held a forest inside them. He wore a blue and white flannel with a grey, denim jacket. Pants were a light blue and like the other man, they, too, covered his dark brown boots.

The two looked at each other before walking into the motel. The bell on the entrance door jingled signaling the employees that customers were walking in. A plump, ederly woman who stood behind the check-in counter smiled and greeted them. “Welcome. Bed for one?”

“N-no...we’re not….we’re not together.” The taller man of the two stuttered.

“It’s okay sweetie. No need to be ashamed. We don’t judge here.” .

“Yeah, no need to be ashamed, honey.” The short man spoke as he spanked the taller man, grinning in amusement.

He gave his brother a look of annoyance. She gave them 2 sets of keys and he grabbed one before walking off.

“He's something, isn't he?” He winked and walked away with his key. 

The brothers walk out of the building and towards their shared room. Walking in, the walls are a dark, plain green with brown wood trims and the flooring white carpet. By the door to the room was a mahogany desk with a small, black desk lamp on top, a painting of a forest hung above. A dresser, the same color as the desk, stood against the wall with a small green dining table and matching chairs beside it. Across the table on the other side of the room were two separate beds with an end table in between and a large lamp on top. On the far side of the room across the entryway stood a door to the small bathroom. 

The bathroom, on the other hand, consists of a small, white sink on a grained counter top, the sink cabinet matching the dresser. A white toilet sat on the black and white tile floor, towels neatly folded on a silver rack above.  And next to the toilet was an off colored white bathtub with a few unknowable light brown stains on the sides; white tiles stuck to the walls and a silver showerhead attached above.  The bathroom walls are beige.

Dean slams the door shut and drops his bag onto the bed closest to the entry. He rummages through the bag grabbing out a black and white suit and a gun. Sam does the same before walking into the bathroom to change as his brother changes in the main room.

 “Witnesses first?” Sam shouts.

“You can question witnesses,” Dean spoke, fully decked out in his suit as Sam was when he walked out of the bathroom. “I’ll check out the crime scene.” 

Both men tuck their guns into the back of their pants and the fake FBI badges in their front suit jacket pockets. The same routine they do in almost every case. With their feet covered by white socks with black dress shoes, guns and badges ready, they headed out the door and to the first crime scene.

The small parking lot of the only hardware store in town, had attracted plenty of locals who stood behind yellow tape and two police officers at each end keeping them in line. Police cars and ambulances swarmed the outside, officers questioning witnesses all the while the EMTs checked for injuries. Despite the lot being small, Sam and Dean were able to maneuver around everyone. They found the sheriff talking to the owner of the store. 

“Excuse us, sheriff.” Dean spoke causing the man to look up from his phone.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked, putting his device away.

They pulled out their badges from their front pockets flipping them open. “I’m Agent Page and my partner here is Agent Young. Can we ask what happened here?”

The sheriff squints his eyes at the fake I.D.s and sighs. “According to crazy Doreen-” pointing a finger at an elderly lady with an annoyed officer watching her- “there were small men walking out of the store wearing bloody clothes and holding tools stolen from inside.”

“Mind if I check it out?” Dean asked. The sheriff gestured towards the store.

Sam stayed to talk to the man while Dean went inside to check out the scene. The first thing he noticed was splatters of blood over the walls and counter where the checkout counter is. He carefully leaned over the counter so as to not get blood on his suit or mess up evidence, his eyes roamed over the area to see a man dead, multiple stab wounds to the chest. He leaned back away from the counter to look over it. Smack dead in the middle of the blood splatter was a tiny handprint; as small as a child almost. Dean took out his cell and shot a picture and sent it to Sam.

Turning away he looked down at the floor for any further evidence. The blood hadn’t gone too far as most of it laid where the man is. Less clean up he supposed even though he knew it wasn’t the time to make jokes but does it anyways. Dean kept walking throughout the store. Nothing could be spotted on the floor. Even the shelves didn’t show signs of anything supernatural. They just looked ransacked. 

But something shiny caught the man’s attention from the corner of his eye. A bell. A small, gold bell. He walks towards then bends down to pick the object up. As it sat between his thumb and index finger, he slowly inspected the object. What the hell, he thought. Unfortunately he couldn't think further as his ears picked up the sound of footsteps coming up from behind. Dean quickly stood and turned only to let out a sigh of relief. It was just his brother.

“What did you find?” Sam asked, noticing Dean a little tense.

Dean opened his palm and showed him the bell. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He picked it up to inspect it. As it is just a bell, nothing more. He pockets it and starts to tell Dean what the elderly lady had said. “According to Doreen, when she was walking past the store, she saw little men walking out with sets of tools covered in blood, the same for their clothes. Apparently they were wearing red and green striped pointed hats that contained bells on top, the shirt and pants matched and the shoes were pointed upwards on the end of them, also with bells on top.”

Dean looked at him like he didn’t believe any of the words that just came out of his mouth. And he doesn’t believe Sam. “So dwarves? You’re saying dwarves. Like Santa’s little elves.”

“I-uh, I mean, I guess,” he shrugs as he rubs the back of his neck realizing the elderly woman might actually be crazy just as the sheriff said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Does any other witness say anything actually useful?”

Sam shook his head. 

“So no one else saw elves? Not even Rudolph?” Dean sarcastically spoke, making it Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, let's go.”

Dean sat in his car parked in front of a small house with the window rolled down talking, no, flirting to a woman while Sam sat inside a house talking to the family of the dead employee from the hardware store. The woman, Dean learned whose name is (y/n), was trying her hardest not to laugh at his failed attempt of flirting with her. Which, he was epically failing and miserably. 

“Okay dude. Look, you’re cute and all but you are literally the walking cliche of James Dean. I’m not interested.” she spoke before walking off just as Sam was coming out of the house having heard everything and chuckling. 

“That was awesome.” he states getting into the impala.

“Oh shut up,” spoke  Dean, annoyed, as he started the car and drove off. “What did they say?”

“According to the mother, nobody told her and her husband that their son is dead. The sheriff said that the guy, whose name was Greg, died sometime around six this morning. And despite it being several hours later, they never got a call.”

“Anything useful?”

“She said that Greg had been seeing little men for about three days and shrugged it off as drinking too much. It seriously sounds like elves.”

“Yeah, no. There is no such thing as elves.” Dean spoke, obviously still not believing Sam.

“Do you remember the case with the girl that was in a coma and her dad was reading her fairy tales?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“What if this is something similar except the whole disney sugar coating? Like how the mice were turning into servants and how Cinderella was being abused by her stepmother except this time it's elves.” Sam explains.

“Unless they’re dwarves from Lord of the Rings, I’m not buying it.”

.    .    .    .

Seven in the morning rolled around when a bedside alarm goes off. A hand reaches out and slams the top of it shutting it off. Yawning, (y/n) pulls back the covers and swings her legs over the side of the bed and stretches. She gets up and walks out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to do her business. When finished, she walked back into her room changing into some black leggings with a red sweater and white socks. After changing she walked downstairs putting on her black boots lined with white fur and a dark red double lapel jacket. She grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door.

The weather outside was freezing causing her to slightly shiver. The ground is covered with pure white snow. Her boots leave small prints in the snow from the front door to her vehicle. She quickly gets into her car and lets it run for a few minutes before turning the heat on and leaving. She was used to the cold weather as she has lived in Minnesota for most of her life so the snow didn’t bother her.

The first place she headed for was the small cafe in town where she had breakfast almost every morning. The owner, Mrs. Smith has lived here for all her life and the cafe was passed down generation to generation. (Y/n) has known her since she moved here with her parents when she was younger. Mrs. Smith used to babysit her when her parents had to work. They were close and still are to this very day. The cafe has changed interior multiple times over the years as to keep up with modern times. But the outside has never changed. 

By the time (y/n) has arrived and walked into the building, her usual breakfast consists of fried egg, bacon and cheese on a toasted bagel, a bowl of maple and brown sugar oatmeal with sliced bananas and black coffee, in her spot she claims as hers in the far corner of the building in the booth. It was her favorite spot as she could watch customers for inspiration for her writings.

While she ate and watched people come and go, two men in black suits came in, taking a seat a couple booths away from her. One of them, the same one she talked to, well, technically watched him fail at flirting with her yesterday, caught her eye. He puts on a charming smile fixing his jacket while he says something to the other guy, who seemed amused to see him fail again, and made his way over to the woman. 

He sits across from her. “Morning.”

“Morning, Agent.” she smiles, leaning back into her seat, waiting to watch him fail for the second time.

“I think there’s something wrong with my eyes. I just can’t seem to take them off of you.” 

She couldn’t help but snort while she took a sip of her hot coffee.

“Boy, that coffee looks hot. Just like,” Dean started before sheepishly saying, “hi.”

That caused her to raise her eyebrows. “Okay, now that was kind of adorable.”

Dean perked up. “So, did it work?”

She stood up, her breakfast finished. “Nope.” And with that, she walked out of the cafe with an amusing grin on her face. Dean’s mouth was open with shock. He’s never been rejected by a woman in years. Especially twice. He lets out a groan before closing his mouth and sitting at the same table Sam currently sat at. Sam was grinning letting out chuckles at his older brother’s failure.

“Oh shut up.” Dean told him as he grabbed a menu covering his red face of embarrassment while he looked for food. “So, what did you find from research last night?”

Sam who already knew what he wanted to eat pulled out his laptop from his computer bag and placed it in front of him. “According to Wikipedia, in Germanic mythology, a dwarf is a human-shaped, usually bearde, entity that dwells in mountains and in the earth and is variously associated with wisdom, smithing, mining, and crafting. But in this case, it's around Christmas time so instead of it being dwarves, we could be dealing with elves.”

Dean deadpanned and looked at the man across from him. “Please for the love of Chuck, you’re joking.”

Sam shook his head.

“I thought elves were supposed to be nice. Not all murdery.”

Sam shrugs. “I think at this point from all the shit we thought wasn’t possible, this goes along with it.”

“But why would elves start killing people and taking hammers and shovels and whatever else?” Dean spoke confused as hell. 

The only thing Sam could come up with is, well, he couldn’t come up with anything as they never went through something even remotely close to this. They didn’t have much to go on since they only talked to very few people and saw one crime scene. He already knew this odd case was gonna take more than a few days unlike most of the ones they have been on. 

“Sam sighed. “I don’t know. We need to look at the other scenes and see what happened there. Like the one lumber yard.” 

Before Dean could say anything, a waitress came up and asked them if they were ready to eat. Dean ordered a large, meaty breakfast, something likely to give you a heart attack if you ate enough of it while Sam got something small and healthy so he could keep his physique up. She wrote it all down, eyes widening when Dean spoke what he wanted and giving Sam a flirty smile as she took the meus from his hand, letting their fingers touch before letting them know she’ll be back with coffee and walks away with an extra sway of her hips. Dean watched her backside as she walked away till he couldn’t no more. He looked at his brother eyebrows raising up and down and smirking at him. “She’s hot.”

He just ignored Dean’s behavior as he was used to it. 

“Dude! You should go for her.” Dean states.

“No thanks.”

“Oh come on, you need to get laid. That’s probably why you’re so tense all the time.”

Sam looked at his brother with annoyance and rolled his eyes. “Last I checked, saving lives is more important than getting some.”

“If you won’t have her, I will,” Dean grins. “What happened at the lumber yard?”

Sam pulled up the local newspaper, called Morning News written on top in huge black letters, on his laptop. Everything that had happened over the last several days here covered a good part of the first page. On the left column showed rebuilding the bridge that connects the two surrounding towns as it was falling apart and unsafe to drive on. It didn’t give an estimate of how much it would cost to demolish it, which Sam knew was gonna be expensive, but to build another was gonna be much, much more. 

On the right column was a ten-year-old boy being awarded for selling the most chocolate in time for the holidays. He won a two hundred and fifty dollar gift card and got to leave school to go to any restaurant for lunch. He remembers middle school used to do that but he was never able to because of his father, John Winchester. He would’ve liked to do normal activities growing up, and still does, but with the line of work they do, he can only do so many normal things every other human gets to do. Otherwise, nothing of importance.

And on the bottom of the page showed the weather for the next seven, cold and snowy. No sun or warmth which of course is normal with it being winter. Before Sam could get off topic in his thoughts, he read the column of the murders until it told him to turn to page nine. The whole entire page, he notices, was covered about the murders of two men but three crime scenes. Sam didn’t bother reading the few paragraphs of the scene at the hardware store. Next, it showed what may have happened at the lumber yard which apparently happened first before the hardware store as the man who chopped wood there was found with an axe in the back of his head.

“So it says here a man, Finn Huckle, was found at three am two days hunched over the tree stump. His legs hacked and an axe stuck in the back of his head as his body laid over the tree stump he was using to shop wood. It looked like a regular murder accoring to the police until they saw Finn holding a pointy hat in his hand. It looked like he tried fighting back because he had skin under his nails. But when the lab tested it, the skin didn’t belong to anybody. Like whoever, or whatever, did this, doesn’t exist. However, at the last scene, at a children's park, in the sand box was a large, gaping hole with what they know is snow, surrounding the area.”

Dean took everything his brother said in. This was definitely something they haven’t dealt with, even heard of. But Sam says he thinks its elves seem to be making more sense, oddly to him, the more they learn what's happening in town. But why elves? Weren’t they supposed to be nice and make presents for good boys and girls? This case seems to be getting odder and odder. 

“Say it is elves, did they lose their mojo or something? Maybe they ran out of alcohol. I’d be all grumpy if I ran out of alcohol and had to deal with shit ton of kids.” Dean spoke gruffly.

Sam suddenly perked up, an idea as to why, if it is elves, acting dangerous. “What if they were hit with some potion making them angry?”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows as he thought. Okay, maybe it is Santa’s little helpers, or logically, it's not. This is definitely something new. Before they can confirm what they think, they would need to see the hole at the park. His thoughts were interrupted with the pretty waitress bringing their food. She gave Sam his first, again, giving him a flirty smile then gave the other man his food, looking at him. Dean winked at her as he gave her his world famous smile he uses on all the ladies causing her to scoff and roll her eyes before walking off. Sam laughed at Dean’s flabbergasted look on his face. “Rejected by two women in one day. Got to be a new record.”

Dean rolled his eyes and flipped Sam off before digging into his food, annoyed.

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