#after talking to the barn owner about a barn manager position and I would get free board

[doublesidedgemini]

crying screaming sobbing throwing up I’m on my way home :(((

[rendevousz]

the favourite

avengers x fem!teen!reader

summary: you are the baby avenger and everyone is platonically whipped for you.

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: none, maybe just my inability to write good endings

word count: 3497

note: um second oneshot hope this one's good gaaah

"hey, doll. whatcha' reading?" you glanced up to see bucky, who then plopped down next to you on the couch in the common room. "it's called 'shadow and bone'. it's a novel that's turning into a netflix series in like a month," you smiled at the super soldier, lifting up your book a little to show him the cover. his eyebrows raised at the information, lips tugging into a knowing smirk.

"yes, bucky, i'll watch the series with you." you rolled your eyes playfully at him. ever since he officially became an avenger and moved into the tower with the rest of you, you've been helping him 'get with the times' —as sam likes to call it— just as you did steve a few years prior.

steve had told his best friend that you were the best at stuff like this. after all, you were the youngest avenger. and you had a lot of free time on your hands; having no school since you were pretty much the only one besides vision who could compete with tony's or bruce's intelligence.

so really, school wasn't mandatory for you according to tony. at least, after you had asked him if you could just not attend and he cracked ten seconds after you pulled the puppy dog eyes.

you also had significantly less trainings than the rest of the team. this one wasn't because you were an expert on the field or something —well, you were, but so were the rest of the team but they still had almost daily trainings while you had half the amount they did— this was because you had cap wrapped around your tiny little finger.

and as for the team, they couldn't even be mad about it because if they were in the captain's position, they would probably be the same. everyone just loved you too much.

"do you mind if i turned on the tv?" bucky asked, afraid that you wouldn't want background noise while you were reading but obviously you didn't mind so you shook your head as you continued to read. not long after, you closed your book with a bookmark between the pages you stopped at before shoving in into bucky's hands and running up into your room to quickly grab your blanket.

he watched you run out of the common room in confusion before chuckling when he saw you run back in looking tiny with a huge, fluffy blanket in your arms. you went back to your spot on the couch next to him, spreading the blanket over both your laps, bucky smiling fondly as he watched you fix it before turning to him. "comfy?" you asked and he nodded, giving you back your book as you cuddled up to him. he smiled down at you and wrapped an arm around you while you leaned against his chest.

"what's this? movie night without me?" you two looked up at the owner of the voice and saw sam walking in, making his way to the kitchen, probably to make himself some coffee. "what movie are you guys watching?" he asked, leaning against a pillar to look at the tv, trying to figure out what movie was playing.

"actually, only bucky's watching the movie—it's mean girls, by the way—and i'm just reading my book." you told sam without looking at him, lifting your book up high to show him before lowering it back down to continue reading it.

"barnes, what are you doing watching a movie while y/n is reading? she won't be able to focus with all that background noise, shut it off." sam told him off, now back in the kitchen to make his coffee. you shook your head at the man's antics. "sam, it's fine. i told him it was okay,"

"of course you did, you're too sweet to say no to anyone." he quipped back, now standing nearby, watching the tv too, seemingly interested in the movie playing. you only rolled your eyes playfully at him before going back to the book. after a few minutes of him just standing, bucky spoke up. "just sit down if you want to watch the whole movie, birdbrain."

and sit he did. on your other side, snuggling comfortably under your blanket after putting his now empty mug on the coffee table. this caused bucky to huff as he pulled the other end of the blanket which led to them having a tug-of-war over the blanket, you unfortunately stuck in the middle of it. deciding that it was too distracting to read while squished between two grown men who were also fighting for the blanket, you finally closed your book.

"sam, can you help me put this on the coffee table?" you handed sam your book and he immediately took it, stretching his body forward to place it on the coffee table. with the book out of the way, you could finally settle comfortably and the blanket was now shared between the three of you equally. not long after, your head was back against bucky's chest with his arm around you while your legs were over sam's lap under the blanket, one of his arms resting over it above the blanket. if it had been someone else doing that to sam, they probably would've had their legs chopped off already.

"movie night and you didn't invite me?" you chuckled at the question by the newcomer, tony, finding it funny how sam said almost the exact same prior to him. "you're welcome to join us, tony." you offered kindly, to which he replied with a small chuckle.

"i'm just kidding, cupcake. i came up for a drink and a little snack but that's it, i have stuff to finish down in the lab." you nodded understandingly, turning back to the screen in front of you.

"hey, stark, while you're there can you grab me a bottled water from the fridge?" bucky asked him. "oh yeah can you grab me chips from the snacks cabinet too?" sam added.

"you guys have legs for a reason, get them yourselves, i'm not your maid," tony sassed and you bit back a chuckle. bucky and sam then decided to rock-paper-scissors the situation to decide who had to get up and get the water and chips. bucky ended up losing and he begrudgingly got up and came back quickly with his water and sam's chips.

shortly afterwards, tony approached the three of you on the couch, with a juice box and a small bag of pretzels; your go-to movie snack. "here you go, cupcake." he handed them to you and you accepted them happily, beaming at him while he ruffled your hair.

bucky and sam shared a look of disbelief at tony's actions. "what gives, man? we asked for stuff and you didn't want to do it but y/n gets her stuff without even having to ask for it?" sam complained.

"that's because y/n's my baby. now shut up and let her watch the movie in peace." he scolds before leaving the common room, leaving the two men to huff in annoyance. it soon washed off though when you laughed out loud at a scene and they returned back to normal, loving the sound of your contagious laughter.

when the movie ended, it was already late and you had fallen asleep on an also asleep bucky. sam took a look at you and chuckled. he slowly removed the blanket from over himself and you, gently scooping you up into his arms and taking you back into your room, laying you down on your bed. he noticed the lack of blanket on your bed and remembered the blanket you brought down to the common room. he opened your closet for a spare blanket, retrieving it before covering you with it, tucking you in. "night, kiddo." he whispered, kissing your forehead before leaving the room.

-

next morning came and you groggily stretched, noticing that you were in your room. last you remembered was falling asleep mid movie. you deduced that it was most likely either bucky or sam who carried you back to bed. you went to your closet to grab work out clothes since you had training today, before realising what day today was. wanda's breakfast day. you quickly ran to the bathroom and got ready.

once you were done, you dried your hair and left your room, practically bouncing with excitement when you thought of what wanda probably made for breakfast. the week had been a bad breakfast week since everyone who had so far been tasked breakfast duty, sucked at cooking. the only good cook of the team was wanda, explaining your overexcitement.

before you could get far though, you slammed into a solid body, being caught by your wrists before you could fall. "be careful, lady y/n!" a deep voice spoke and you look up, a large smile on your face before you jumped happily, taking the man into a big hug. "thor! you're back!"

he laughed, returning the hug, you almost disappearing due to his big frame before you let go of each other. "where were you headed to so eagerly?"

"it's wanda's breakfast day, thor! i haven't had a decent breakfast all week because no one in this tower except wanda can cook to save their lives. come on, big guy!" you cheered, trying to get onto his back for him to give you a piggy back to the kitchen but he was too high for you to reach. he watched your attempt in amusement before bending down so you could get on his back. you gratefully got on, lightly patting his back and dramatically pointing ahead of you. "to the kitchen we go!"

when you two arrived in the kitchen, clint and wanda were talking as the latter made breakfast. thor's booming laughter echoed through the room as he zoomed with you on his back, laughing your heart out. "we have arrived to our destination, my lady." clint and wanda turned to you, adoring smiles on their faces when they heard you giggling uncontrollably.

"i thought you had more important things to do that you couldn't even walk 10 feet to grab me a spoon." clint raised his eyebrows at the demigod. "yes but y/n needed a ride so i provided her one." thor gave your hair a ruffle before he left the room, going to do what he initially left the kitchen for before you managed to get him to bring you back there.

"morning, kiddo." clint ruffled your hair right after you just fixed it, causing you to glare at him before fixing it again. "morning," you grumbled, sitting down next to him.

"morning, y/n!" wanda greeted, placing your plate of perfectly made blueberry pancakes with extra blueberries neatly placed on top, butter in the middle of it with maple syrup dripping down. your mouth watered. had it really been that long since you had a good breakfast or was it just because it was wanda's creation? or was it both? "here ya go, bubs. your favourite," she grinned at you, placing your glass of orange juice beside the plate.

"thanks, wands! i love you!" you thanked her, already beginning to dig into your breakfast.

"what the heck? you gave me burnt pancakes and didn't let me have extra blueberries because you said there already were some in the pancakes," clint whined to wanda from beside you, watching you eat happily.

"that's because the extra blueberries were for y/n, she loves them. and about the burnt pancakes...yea i just didn't want to give her burnt ones. look how happy she looks," the two turned to you, looking at your cheeks being filled up, making you look like an adorable squirrel.

"okay, fair point." clint slumped down on his chair, continuing to look at you fondly, like a proud father.

-

after breakfast, you made your way down to the training room where steve, nat and peter were training. when you entered, peter immediately noticed, waving and you from the treadmill with a huge smile on his face. nat, having just flipped steve over her her shoulders, smiled at you. "hey, bub." you smiled back at her and steve who struggled to give you a wave but did it anyways from his position.

"alright, y/n, you can warm up and run 2 miles first before we start." steve says once he had gotten up from his position on the ground. you mocked a salute before walking to the treadmills.

"what?! how is that fair? i'm running 5 miles!" peter exclaimed from beside you just as you started your run. "you're enhanced, peter. if anything, it's unfair for y/n/n. actually, that's right, it is unfair for her. y/n/n, you can go ahead and just do a mile."

peter's jaw dropped at this, his mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. "b–but.."

"get back to work, peter. once you're done, we'll start both your and y/n's training." the boy only huffed in annoyance, focusing back on his run while you smirked, internally cheering in victory.

-

"boy, that was tiring!" you dramatically plopped back onto the mat, limbs spread out as you tried to catch your breath. it had been a gruesome 3 hours of training and you were beat.

"y/n/n, get up. sam, bucky and clint's gotta train soon," nat tells you after steve and peter left and you were still sprawled out on the ground. "but i'm tired!" you whined childishly.

"y/n, if you don't get up, i'm gonna leave you here to be trampled on by the boys when they train." nat nagged, hands on her hips as she made a disapproving face at you.

"no you're not. you're gonna carry me to my room so i can shower and sleep soon." you tell her, eyes already closed as the fatigue washed over you. after a few seconds of silence, you heard her sigh out loud before you felt her crouching down beside you.

"get on my back in five seconds or i'll leave you." she threatened. you quickly opened your eyes, grabbing your small towel and water bottle before getting on nat's back. she mumbled something about you being lucky that she loves you or else she really was going to let sam, bucky and clint trample on you.

"what's wrong with her?" you could hear steve's concerned voice asking nat when you two reached—you assumed— the lobby. you were too tired to keep your eyes open so you left them closed while your arms were around nat's neck.

"nothing," you heard nat reply as she walked you both into the elevator. "kid's just too lazy to get up and walk on her own so she made me carry her." you internally rolled your eyes. she made it seem like she was forced to do it when everyone clearly knew she would do anything when it came to you.

you heard steve chuckle before nat started walking again, probably towards your room. you heard the door open and nat finally let you down, prompting you to open your eyes.

"do you want some food after you shower?" she questioned as you looked through your closet for comfy clothes to change to before ultimately deciding on cow print pyjama pants and an oversized tee you stole from steve.

"i'm good, nat, thanks. i just wanna take a nap." as if on cue, you yawned right after. "okay, bub. you'll have to get up later for dinner and movie night though, okay?" she reminded and left the room after you replied an 'okay' back.

-

when you were woken up a few hours later, it was by an annoying scream and a body bouncing on your bed. "y/n/n, wake up! it's dinner! mr stark ordered your favourite!"

you groaned, putting your pillow over your head to block out peter's annoying voice. "come on, y/n/n wake up! you haven't eaten since breakfast and it's movie night tonight!"

"okay, okay, i'm up. you can shut up now, pete." you grumbled crankily. it was quiet for a few seconds before peter yelled out once again. "wake u–"

he never got to finish though because you kicked him off the bed. "i said i'm up, dude." you then sat up, stretching before getting up to wash up, ignoring peter who was on the floor rubbing the side of his head which hit your lamp when he fell off your bed. he then got up, deciding to tidy your bed up a bit while he waited for you to finish washing up so that you two could go down together.

-

"is that my shirt?" was the first thing you heard when you walked in with peter. the team were all sitting, eating your food from your favourite place. "i uh, maybe?" you answered sheepishly, sitting down next to sam and peter settling down on your other side. "i've been looking for that shirt since forever."

"aw, let her have it, steve! she looks better in it than you do, she looks so adorable!" wanda screeched, absolutely adoring how tiny you looked in cap's enormous shirt. she continued to gush over you, even taking out her phone at one point to snap a picture of you. you chuckled at her antics, proceeding to eat your dinner while the team talked.

after dinner, everyone slowly made their way to the common room for team movie night. you guys collectively agreed to watch 'white chicks' after steve revealed that he hadn't watched it.

you sat down next to bruce, who gave you a tired smile when you smiled at him. he must've been working in the lab all day, you thought. halfway through the movie though, a bathroom break was called by tony. a few took the chance to get up and get snacks while you told bruce you were gonna sit closer to the tv since you couldn't hear properly with sam and bucky squabbling over every little thing they could. you could even hear them arguing in the kitchen at the moment over hot chocolate.

when tony came back, you told the two bickering children in the kitchen that you were starting the movie again. not long after you started, you could hear them still bickering, except now they were closer, probably back in their seats. poor bruce, you thought. you escaped the two but he was still stuck next to them.

meanwhile in the back, sam and bucky were still busy fighting over the hot chocolate. you paid them no mind as you focused on the movie, having not watched it in a hot minute.

"dude, i made this for myself! go make your own hot chocolate!" bucky whisper-yelled, moving his mug away from sam's reach when the latter tried to reach for it. "you took my snack now i'm gonna take your drink so it's fair!" sam countered.

before the two of them could stop it, the steaming hot chocolate spilt. not on the carpet, but onto the doctor whose patience had already been running thin with the two quarrelling next to him for the past hour.

his face slowly turned green, clearly a sign that he was fighting so that the other guy didn't come out. the team stared in horror, preparing for a fight to break out with the big green monster.

you, being the closest to the tv, didn't notice this all happening as you happily watched the movie that you couldn't hear properly for the past hour.

you laughed joyously when your favourite scene came on, trying to control your giggles that were starting to get louder and louder. bruce was currently hunched down, trying to even his breathing. but when he heard your laughter, he immediately looked up at you.

the team panicked, thinking that you could be a target for hulk since you just attracted attention to yourself. they were about to get up to protect you as they looked at bruce apprehensively, when the doctor smiled, the green on his neck slowly, but surely disappearing.

the team looked at each other in confusion and bruce smiled weakly at them. "sorry about that. i'm...i'm gonna move up and sit with y/n." he got up and made his way to you. you smiled when you saw him. "got tired of them too?" you joked and he nodded, making himself comfortable next to you.

you nodded and turned your attention back to the tv. it was clear you were oblivious to whatever just happened and the team couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. you really just unknowingly calmed down the hulk.

the team didn't know if you were aware of how much power you actually held over them. nevertheless, you were their little baby and they were willing to do anything for you.

[zvdvdlvr]

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ғᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜʀs

ʙ.ʙᴀʀɴᴇs

summary: a soft morning for a soft boy

reader pronouns: she/her

warnings: sweet but kinda insecure bucky </3

Sticky and firm skin was the first thing y/n felt even though Alpine woke her up by licking the skin on her stomach, where Bucky's shirt had ridden up during the night.

the position y/n l/n (soon to be y/n Barnes~) and James Barnes were in gave her a nice glimpse of the raised skin on Bucky's shoulder: his scars. bucky was chest first on the firm bed, and was laying on him. bucky said he loved waking up to y/n's weight on his because it grounds him after waking up from the hours he manages to sleep.

bucky hated his scars, and he made that fact quite obvious. anytime he went shirtless, he made a face at his scars, which made y/n want to smack the man and worship him at the same time.

y/n squirmed carefully to get her head up to Bucky's shoulder.

she tried to breathe shallower breaths so she wouldn't wake him up yet.

hovering just over the skin, she inhaled him. Bucky always smelled good. a fine mix of cologne, sweat, and his shampoo, which was a lavender most times, but occasionally had y/n pick out a scent.

she started st the top.

featherlight kisses, one by one, side by side as she went down his shoulder, loving Bucky's unconscious shudder.

bucky woke up fast, and normally before sunrise, but today was different. it was soft at first, like he was dreaming it, but he heard her. she was on him, kissing him, loving him in a way he had never been loved before. she was pressing kiss after kiss into him, his arm scars no less, voluntarily. he was befuddled as to why such an angelic being like her would want to be intimate with scarred, mentally unstable him.

she slowly brought her hand up to thread it into Bucky's hair. scratching his scalp lightly, she scattered kisses all the way up to James's ear.

"morning, my pretty boy." she murmured into his ear.

"g'mornin, my pretty dove." he said, groaning almost inaudibly as y/n's tugged soothingly on a sensitive spot.

y/n turned off of bucky after a moment, tearing her hand away from Bucky's hair, loving how he turned to face her. Alpine joined the lovefest, wiggling in between her owners, purring at the warmth.

y/n turned to look at the furbaby, paws against he stomach, back on Bucky's chest.

"look at her. she's so pretty.'' y/n murmured, signing happily when Bucky brought his forehead to rest on hers.

"so are you, doll." he murmured, admiring her admirng their cat.

she chuckled slightly. "knew you'd say that." she said, bringing her gaze to meet his. "oh, guess what?" she asked, her eyes suddenly aglow.

Bucky raised a brow. "what? what happened?''

"you, my dear," y/n drawled, smiling, "slept for more than four and a half hours." she said, eyes gleaming with pride.

"I...did?" he asked skeptically.

y/n nodded. "m'proud of you, love. I'm so fuckin' proud of you."

bucky sighed and closed his eyes.

"you okay, love?'' y/n asked, suddenly.

he nodded. "I dreamed of you, tonight.'' he said finally in a smaller voice.

Bucky barely ever dreamed, but when he did, he woke up from a nightmare. he just could never shut his eyes.

"where were we?" y/n inquired, closing her eyes, still pressed onto Bucky.

"we, uh, we went to Coney Island I think... the dream was about you, so I couldn't really see anything but you." he murmured.

"what were we doing?"

"walking, talking, and smoking."

y/n breathed out a laugh. "yeah, I can see us doing that.''

bucky opened his eyes, finding his lover's closed. "you can?''

"yup."

"then let's go."

y/n opened her eyes. "go to... Coney Island?"

"Yeah." Bucky nodded.

"let's do it." y/n agreed, closing her eyes.

"okay.'' Bucky breathed.

"okay."

"hey doll?" bucky asked, opening an eye.

"yes, lovie?" y/n asked, opening an eye as well.

"why'd you wake me up like that?" he asked. his brow was furrowed in the adorable way he furrowed it.

"because I wanted to wake you up like you wake me up."

"oh." a moment passed and the two were still staring at each other.

"I kinda liked it. even though I don't like them." bucky confessed, peering into you even more intently than before.

he was referring to the scars, y/n realized.

"then I'll do it more." she said, smiling.

bucky smiled at his lovesick self. "yeah. you should."

"love you more, Sarge."

[barnesand]

the scent of old stories [ ii ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! author’s note: we have one cameo for this story so far, but hey, we’re back in the bookstore and the pining shall commence.

chapter one can be found here: x

You thought that your tedious workload would drown out the reminiscing thoughts of yesterday, but you were wrong. Despite having your hands full with at least ten toddlers that were all vying for your attention (Jess needed you to look at her blue clay creation, despite you having no actual clue what it was supposed to be), you mind still found its way back the Second Hand. Working at a day care center is usually all-consuming—you couldn’t think of the last time you found yourself blinking away thoughts, not when there were so many things happening all at once.

Not that the children you cared for were the embodiment of chaos. But you had to pay attention to them—they were toddlers.

Your encounter with Bucky was three days ago. And in those three days, your mind still plagued you with a looping thought: why haven’t you gone back? Your mind was very correct in questioning your avoidance of the store. There was no point to it—clearly, Bucky was flirting with you. You might have lost your ability to return flirtatious remarks, because of reasons, but there was no denying that fact. Bucky wanted you to come back, to get that list of his favorite haunts. And, maybe, he would tag along on a few of those locations.

Ninety percent of your brain was scolding you about it, while the remaining ten percent remained on the fence about it. You know—good old denial: because what if he wasn’t?

You wouldn’t call yourself outright pathetic for believing what the ten percent had to say, but you were disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you couldn’t give in and just do it—you did, after all, make a deal to return. Bucky had given you a free book, and that free book had come with a condition, and you had to honor it. What kind of person would you be—what kind of bibliophile would you be—if you didn’t honor it? But because you still quaked at the idea of returning, and because you feared that you would become a sputtering mess once again, you wouldn’t.

You’d considered gaining an outside perspective—but you didn’t really know your coworkers well enough. You spoke to them about several things, of course, but you hadn’t delved into the personal topics yet. You also humored the idea of calling your mother—but you really didn’t need to go down that wormhole of call. She’d find your indecisive thoughts a hint that you secretly wanted to come back home and you didn’t want to have an argument over that again.

By now, your ten toddlers have been corralled by another associate into quiet time—and for a brief second you considered asking your kids if you should go back to the pretty man at the bookstore. No—no, that’s too complicated of a story to tell and their track record with opinions wasn’t doing so well for you.

Your quiet dilemma would remain that—a quiet one.

In the last hours of your shift, you tried to occupy your mind as much as possible. The toddlers kept in your care must have noticed the keen focus you developed, because they seemed more chaotic than usual. By the end of it, they were nearly tired out as their parents picked them up. Once the last child was picked up, you quickly cleaned up the mess they’d made. Indeed, you did manage to lose track of those plaguing thoughts, but the moment you were alone they returned as loud as ever. You pressed your head to the too-small crafting table and let out a meager sigh.

“Do I go?” You said out loud, tapping your forehead once more—you wanted to knock the solution out of your head, but it wasn’t really working.

“Go where?”

You didn’t move from your position entirely, instead only shifting your head to the side to find one of your coworkers in the doorway to the playroom. Joaquin Torres was one of the coworkers you’d considered telling about your current situations. He was nice—well, nearly everyone who worked with you seemed nice, but he felt genuinely nice. He didn’t enter the room entirely, instead leaning the top half of his body inward. Almost as if he didn’t want to impose on your moment. You lifted your head, pulling yourself up from your crouching position to stand.

“Um,” you started. You straightened your clothes, re-tucking your shirt into your slacks. “Well—there’s this bookstore on the way home, and I don’t know if I should go back.”

“You like books, don’t you? Seems like an easy yes.” He joked, bringing himself into the room.

Oh, you wished it were an easy decision for you. The laugh that left you was short, slightly strained. Your hands settled on your hips.

“One would think that.” You nibbled at the inside of your cheek. “But the owner is really cute. And I think he’s expressed interest in me. I—yeah, I’m usually not like this around men but he’s really cute.”

He nodded. You couldn’t believe it was that easy to talk to him about it—geez, you should have mentioned it to him days ago. Even if he wasn’t responding right away, but you could see the contemplation in the furrow of his brow and that was enough. If Joaquin could just make that decision for you, all the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders would be lifted easily. Come to your rescue, please. Joaquin put his hands on his hips and gave yet another nod.

“You should probably stock up on kids’ books. It looks like they took a few.” He pointed to the bookshelf behind you—which, to your knowledge, was fuller than it usually was. But… you got the point. “Does this bookstore carry children’s books.”

Your heart was sputtering along, like the little engine that could. The only problem was that you don’t think you can. But you’ve already decided that you would follow Joaquin’s choice. If that meant that you would have to go to the Second Hand on your way home from work—for children’s books—then that was simply what you had to do. And if you saw Bucky instead of his employee, then that was just a bonus. Your sputtering heart could handle it; you think.

“Then,” you said, drawing in a deep sigh. “I will go grab some more books.”

You didn’t expect for the mid-September chill to creep in so quickly, but you wound up clutching your reefer coat closer to your body as you walked down the street. The small shop sign above the Second Hand grew closer, and your hands were already clammy at the idea of seeing him again. You already resigned to following Joaquin’s plan, that your intentions for coming in were for the kids only, but your body reacted otherwise. You’d stopped in front of the insurance agency, drawing in a deep breath to steel your nerves.

It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

A minute passed before you practically shoved yourself forward, scampering past the first window and through the door. The bell sang above you, and only the heads of other patrons perked up at the sound of it. To you, that felt like a good sign. Maybe he would become too occupied by the other people in the store to notice that you came back. You didn’t see any signs of Bucky, but you did find the aisle for children on the first floor, and you quickly made your way to the section.

It was colorful to say the least, and despite the fullness of the shelves it was surprisingly well organized. When it came to children’s books, though, you always veered toward the colorful ones. You crouched down, your fingers gliding across the thin spines of the books. The titles didn’t directly jump out at you, but then again, your mind was occupied, and you were constantly side glancing at the end of the aisles. But crouching on your knees, especially after a long day, proved taxing and you quickly moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. You did have three books picked out so far.

You heard the familiar thrum of Alpine’s purring behind you, and soon felt the feline brushing up against your back. You looked over your head, already smiling at the sight of them. How rude you were to not consider seeing Alpine again when you were stressing over the initial decision. Of course, you missed them, and their spine that was practically begging to be pet. But when you reached for them, they moved out of the way, only to come back. You shook your head, lightly laughing beneath your breath.

“What a tease,” you whisper, bending down.

You managed to rest a single fingertip beneath Alpine’s chin, scratching softly until the purring was so loud it could be a beacon to other cats. Your smiling was beaming, and you dared to scratch behind their ear.

You saw him move in a blur past your aisle, a massive stack of books in his arms—arms that were surprisingly thick and strained against the fabric of his Henley shirt. You would have paused the attention you were giving Alpine, but they absolutely refused to let you stop. And you didn’t have any time to move to a different aisle before Bucky reversed and filled the end of the aisle.

He wasted no time when it came to showing you that smile that made you swoon—almost, but your cheeks did feel warmer. You did smile back, hand still on Alpine.

“Hi,” you said first.

“Look who showed up,” Bucky responded with a short laugh. “Lemme put these books down, Reader. Hang on.”

As exhilarating as it was to watch him hold all those books, which caused your stomach to become all fluttery, you nodded in response. Were you always into arms? You’d assumed you were more into asses, but maybe you were wrong—it could just be all of him. Either way, he disappeared for a moment, and you quickly stole a breath for yourself. You considered standing up, but your legs felt as heavy as cement at the thought of it and you merely set the children’s books on one of the shelves and put your hands in your lap.

When Bucky came back, he had a folded papers in his hand and in one swift movement settled on to the floor beside you, his back pressed to the bookshelf you were facing. The three days you spent avoiding must’ve erased your memory of his appearance because pretty didn’t seem to cut it anymore. Your skin felt hot, your eyes tracing along the sharpness of his jawline, and your mouth practically watering at the pinkness of his soft lips. You were in way too deep, and, again, you were suddenly so concerned about Bucky noticing it.

He eyed you, the light from the fluorescents catching the cerulean of his irises so well. Like crystal clear waters.

He cleared his throat, unfolding the papers in his hand and from what you could tell he put too much effort into the list. Your eyes widened and you choked on a snort.

“Okay, uh,” you stammered for words. “That’s a lot.”

“I told you it would be extensive,” he chortled. “You’ve spent months here and you’ve only gone to the Brooklyn Bridge? It’s offensive.”

“I’ve gone to Coney Island!” You defended yourself. You leaned in, a momentary lapse in judgement. You eyed the list. “Which you’ve put on the list, by the way.”

“It’s for the experience.” He pointed beneath it, and you saw that he’d scribbled bullet points between each attraction he wanted you to see. “Two Coney dogs and then the Cyclone.”

You already found your mind filtering through the imagery of you on the Cyclone, knuckles blanched white as you gripped the handlebars for dear life. That wasn’t the issue, but instead the issue that arose from Bucky’s experience was the future candid photo immortalizing you vomiting the hot dogs you would have ingested beforehand. The hidden cameras on theme park rides always captured the worst moment, and for all you knew, that’s what Bucky was hoping for.

“You put thought into this list,” you commended him. “And you don’t even know me.”

A lot more thought than you’d initially anticipated; it would have made more sense if he simply told you a couple of places to visit. But to make at least two pages worth of locations and hidden spots for someone he’d only met once made no sense to you—that level of detail was better used one someone he knew.

He drew in a hiss of air, shoulders lifting in exaggeration before he seemed to settle on his next thought before glancing down at the list that now saw neatly in your lap. The tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, swiping at the corner of his mouth—a habit you’ve come to notice, in the two times you’ve seen him.

“What better way to get to know each other than by doing the things on my list.”

You might as well resign yourself to this fate; it wasn’t as if you were going to be outright tortured by him (torture, fortunately, was nowhere to be found on his list). No, the fear that bubbled up your throat was purely at the idea that after all of this Bucky might realize that making such an extensive list may have been wasted on you. You weren’t boring, but you sedentary life had created a barrier between you and uninhibited fun. All those years at grad school where you buckled down to work on your degree had muffled that ability have fun.

But you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to know about the store, and how it came to be. There were other things—other things that made your cheeks redden and mouth water—that you wanted to know as well, but those would be better kept to yourself.

Finally, after much quiet thought, you nodded at him.

“We did have a deal.” You waved the list in the air. “So what are we doing first?”

He smiled widened, and you lost your breath when he moved to pat your thigh with a metallic hand. “Attagirl, Reader.”

[allthingsmustfall]

For @rockscanfly ‘s prompt of “charles gets to watch arthur do embarrassing shit all the time. whats one time that arthur saw charles do something embarrassing?” which ate my brain and made me cackle incoherently to myself.

This is the ‘like thieves in the night’ verse, after they get to Serendipity and before John’s in the know:

Arthur’s been loitering near the stables, avoiding Hosea’s endless dickering to make nice with some a new foal and its weary momma, so it’s only seeing Charles’ back go rigid that makes him glance up.

It’s a bright spring morning, just barely out of the grip of winter, and they’d ridden down to the Smit’s ranch to pick up a few head of cattle for the farm, something that Arthur figures should’ve taken ten minutes, but with Hosea there’s always twenty minutes of small talk and an hour of haggling over prices, so he’d settled in for the long haul while Charles inspected the herd.

Arthur leans out of the barn to get a better look at Charles, who’d been leaning against the fence, smiling vaguely as he looked out over the rolling hills. He’s not doing that now - his hackles are up and he jumps back from the fence like he’s touched a live wire, furtively casting around like he’s looking for cover in a firefight.

Doesn’t seem to Arthur that anything’s changed, really, Hosea’s still up on the porch with the owner, and it seems his eldest daughter has stepped out to join them. She’s a nice enough girl, just turned twenty with no ring on her finger, and she’s plush and soft in the way Mary was, like she’d break should Arthur so much as look at her wrong. Matilda, Arthur remembers suddenly, her name’s Matilda.

Glancing back to Charles, he finds the man has jumped the fence, making for the side door of the stable, creeping along like he’s hunting game.

“Charles!” Matilda calls from the porch, her voice bubbling with the kind of excitement that only comes with youth. She dashes down the steps, her skirts in hand. “Daddy didn’t mention you’d be coming down too!”

From where he’s leaning, Arthur can see Charles’ face through the side window as he’s caught, and his eyes go rabbit-wide, and he mutters a curse that Arthur has only ever heard him use when he’s talking about the Army or Dutch.

“Heey there, Matilda,” he says, voice strained as he turns on his heel, still backing away slowly.

Matilda is fussing with her hair, straightening her dress as she comes up on the fence. “I told you,” she teases, “My friends call me Maddie.”

Charles makes a strained noise and backs into one of the struts holding up the stable’s overhang. “I - yes. Sorry, Maddie. I was just - just going to take a closer look at the herd -”

“You know,” Matilda says, like she’s being subtle or shy, “I never did get a chance to thank you proper for seeing me home after Glenda threw a shoe.”

Charles throws up his hands, “No need for thanking,” he says quickly. “Just - being neighborly.”

“Lending me your coat,” Matilda goes on, oblivious, “Letting me squeeze up behind you on the saddle - “

Purposefully, Arthur bites down on his knuckles to stifle a laugh .Somehow, Charles has neglected to relate this particular little story of neighborly good-deeding. Funny, that.

“I just - the weather was real bad,” Charles says, still backing away. Arthur has seen him less wary around rattlers. “Just - best for all that you got home safe -”

“It was just so - heroic,” she says, wistfully. “Daddy says you’re an American? You used to be a cowboy out on the frontier?”

“Oh no I - I just - I - just ranching, mostly,” Charles lies, because if the girl wants heroic stories, then Arthur’s got a few dozen to fill her head up with. “Nothing interesting -”

Matilda sighs gustilly, fanning her chest as she positions herself in a way she must think looks enticing, but mostly seems uncomfortable. “It sounds so romantic.”

“It’s not,” Charles says, almost plaintively. “It’s really -”

“Oh no,” she says, purposefully letting an old handkerchief flutter into the muddy paddock. “I dropped my handkerchief.” She leans over the fence, making as if to grab it, but even from this angle Arthur can tell she’s just shoving her breasts together as she leans over, deepening her cleavage with a lot of creative positioning and hope. “Would you be a dear and grab that for me?”

Charles stills, looking from the girl to the pile of manure it’s landed in and says, deliberately, “I’d just as soon leave it, miss, I think it’s ruined.”

Arthur just about has to shove his fist into his mouth to silent a peel of laughter at that, almost doubling over.

The girl pouts, but goes on unperturbed. “You know, I’m a really good baker,” she says hopefully, perking up. “I’d love to come by Serendipity sometime, just to show my appreciation. Momma says no one makes pie like me, you know. Would you like a slice of my pie, Charles?”

Charles just about yelps, probably because he backed his way onto a loose, rusty nail in the side of the barn, cowering back like he’s never done for lawmen or O’Driscolls or the god damn US Army, but it’s just as well, because that sends Arthur to the ground, wracked with silent laughter, and the shout covers the noise of him sinking to the ground.

“I don’t - like pie,” Charles says shortly, which as far as metaphors goes, ain’t even a little bit wrong. “I. My. I been stepping out with Tilly Jackson for a long while now, and she makes, uh, some real nice biscuits, though -”

“You mentioned her,” Matilda says, her voice going a bit suspicious. “I saw her ‘round the market last weekend and she seems real surprised you told me about the two of you -”

I bet she was, Arthur thinks hysterically, another peel of laughter trying to claw its way out of his throat.

“Oh no,” Charles whispers to himself, quietly. Arthur claws his way back to his feet just to see how wide his eyes have gotten, and he’s not disappointed. There’s small rodents living out in the desert with less fear of hawks than Charles has for Matilda Smit in this moment.

“-and she told me you two called things quits? She said you’re a real gentleman but you broke her heart.”

“Did she,” Charles says darkly, in a tone of voice that promised later retribution.

“I think any woman would be lucky to have you, Charles Smith,” she says, earnest and sweet, blinking big brown eyes at him like a fawn in spring.

“That’s - uh, that’s real kind, but really, it was Miss Tilly who broke, uh, my heart,” he says quickly, “I’m just. A broken man about it.”

Tactical mistake, Arthur thinks. In his misspent youth, Arthur has used that line to the exact opposite effect that Charles is hoping for.

On cue, Matilda makes an anguished noise. “Oh you poor thing,” she says, hitching her skirts up to climb over the fence. “Oh, women can be so, so cruel, you deserve yourself a good wife, and lots of babies running around -”

“No, no, no, miss, please!” Charles says, pure panic in his voice, “You’ll muddy your skirts. You just. Stay over there.”

“You’re such an gentleman,” she says, almost as if it pains her, but she at least stops trying to go over the fence. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to come around some evening,” she says, and her voice goes sly for a moment, “You know, my daddy is driving the herd down to Montreal the end of the month -”

If he was a good man, Arthur would stop this, but thank god he’s a bastard because the anguished noise that Charles makes at that invitation is one that will bring Arthur joy for years and years to come.

“I wouldn’t want to - to presume, Miss Smit -”

“Maddie!” the girl says sharply.

“Maddie! I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t want to bring you any trouble-”

“I like a bit of trouble-”

“And I just - the farm needs me -”

“You’re so responsible -”

“And I, I, uh, uh -”

“No need to get flustered, Charles,” the girl says, all sweet and understanding, “We both want the same thing-”

“Arthur!” Hosea calls jovially, striding into the barn and drawing up short when he finds Arthur doubled over, barely holding back tears of laughter. “What on earth are you-?”

“...Arthur?” Charles growls from the other side of the wall, suddenly glaring in through the window at the pair of them. “You been there the -”

“Mister Matthews,” Matilda says, sounding put out and sour, “Charles and I were just - “

“I’m real sorry, Miss Smit,” Charles says quickly, “We best be on our way. Gotta drive the cattle home -”

“Think Hosea and I could manage it the two of us,” Arthur says helpfully, palming away tears. “If you wanted to -”

“No!” Charles says, then more calmly, “No, no, I think it’s best we all three of us go, just to be sure. Sides,” he says, glaring at Arthur, “We got things to discuss when we make it home.”

Arthur flashes him a sharp, innocent smile, shrugging. “Don’t wanna get in the way of young lo-”

“I’ll go see to the horses,” Charles snaps, heaving himself over the fence and stalking away to where they’d reined up the horses, but not so fast that Matilda doesn’t have the opportunity to lean over, whisper too loudly, “End of the month!”

“What on earth was that about?” Hosea asks, frowning faintly after him.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll tell you the whole thing,” Arthur says, laughing despite himself. Charles was gonna skin him alive, but there wasn’t a force on earth that could stop him telling everyone back home.

~A few hours later~

Lenny is laughing so hard he can’t breathe, doubled over on the ground, looking near to passing out, and Sean and Karen ain’t much better off, both leaning against each other to stay upright.

“I think it’s entirely fair I said what I said,” Tilly says, unrepentant. “What on earth were you thinking? You know I’m thinking about letting Beau Montreau step out with me, and he’s skittish as a cat -”

“I’m just telling her I’m an invert,” Charles says wearily, headown on the table and, taking pity on him, Arthur quietly refills his glass. “It was a nice life here, but it’s time we moved on.”

“And break her heart?” Lenny manages, weeping with laughter. “You scoundrel.”

“Now I ain’t a jealous man,” Arthur says, enjoying this far, far too much, “But if you’re leaving me for her, best you just come out with it, do it quick like setting a bone.” Arthur makes a show of marshalling himself. “Do it now, quick, while I’m ready.”

Charles’ lashes out, but Arthur ducks the smack deftly, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his unresisting knuckles, only dropping it when the door creaks open behind them. John struts in looking pleased with himself, fresh back from town with the groceries. “Ya’ll will never guess what I heard down in town - seems Charles’s finally got himself a woman - hey, hey! What’s so goddamned funny!”

[tony-is-my-daddy]

My Forbidden Fruit

I hit a writer's block a few days ago with the multi chapter Starker fic I'm working on and I thought I'd try writing something else to keep myself occupied. I hope you like this.

Basically, Peter is a farm owner's son and Tony works for his dad and they're not supposed to date but oh well... Also, it's not staded in the fic but Peter is twenty years old here.

TW: one love scene, a bit of possessive behaviour but it's mostly just dirty talk. I think that's it but if you think there's anything else, let me know, please!

------

He placed down the last crate of corn in the barn, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His hands hurt at this point from how many heavy crates he'd been carrying around all day, but he couldn't complain, his job paid quite well. Working for a well going farm owner meant good payment but also a huge property where Tony had a load of work to get done every day. He'd been up since six in the morning and the only break he had was his lunch time ever since.

The physically tiring work wouldn't have been bad, but this job wasn't just physically tiring. There was this one boy who kept annoying him and distracting him from his work however he could. That stupid game between them felt more tiring than his whole afternoon of carrying crates around the place. And the worst part was - the boy was extremely pretty and he knew how to use that to his advatage.

He walked around in the tiniest clothes ever that Tony secretly loved, short shorts and tight fitting tops that just drove him absolutely insane. It's hard to focus on your job when he's outside, sunbathing on the grass in nothing but a pair of boxers, or doing his morning yoga on his balcony, or when he's coming back from a dip in the lake, milky skin and messy chestnut curls dripping water that the towel wrapped around his waist barely soaks up.

He was only supposed to stay until the end of the summer, but it was now the middle of September and he was still there. Tony didn't know why he was still at the farm but he wasn't about to ask because getting into a conversation with Peter, the son of the owner of the farm which Tony worked on, was dangerous. Peter had his way with words, all syrupy-sweet and tantalizing. Tony did not need that, he wasn't planning on losing his job because he fucked his boss' son.

But he could never avoid the boy fully when he was on the farm, and today was no exception. Peter was already on his tail as he walked out from the barn and towards the pile of wood that needed to be chopped.

"Hi Tony," the younger boy greeted as he hurried after the man. "My mom told me you had a lot of work to get done today so I thought I'd keep you company."

"I don't need company," Tony replied curtly as he grabbed the axe that laid against the wall of the shed.

They always used makeshift stand made out of a huge woodbark that almost reached up to Tony's hip to chop wood on, it was the easiest route. So Tony grabbed a small piece of wood, set it on top of the big bark and with a hard swing of the heavy axe, he split the wood right into two pieces, the axe stopping as it got stuck in the thick bark.

"Stand back, pretty boy, or you might get hurt," he said with a motion of his hand, signaling to Peter to go away.

"I'm fine." Peter smiled as he sat down on a bench not too far away from Tony. He watched the man work in awe, as if he was doing anything other than swinging an axe back and forth. "You're so strong, Tony. I wish I could do that as well."

"Try doing sports other than yoga and maybe you'll be able to lift the axe," Tony mocked him between two hits. "This isn't some game, Peter. I'm working over here, please don't distract me."

"Oh I'm not distracting you, am I," the younger boy asked faux innocently. "I'm just sitting here-" Yes, in those stupid shorts that put his milky white legs on display. "-and I'm not doing anything-" Just talking to me with that voice. "-just watching you work. Because it looks so fascinating, how strong you are."

"Then why not watch the other workers instead? They're probably just as fascinating as I am."

"No they're not."

"Why not?"

"Because you're way sexier."

There it was, again... Tony hated it when Peter did that, so open about what he wanted and always trying to get it shamelessly. Tony felt like a piece of meat under the intense stare of the younger boy, and he started getting more and more uncomforfable. Who did this boy think he was, saying such things?!

"Peter, I work for your father. Hell, I'm over ten years older than you!"

"That doesn't mean a thing, I like men in their thirties way more than men in their twenties. You're more mature, smart, experienced. I like that."

Tony rolled his eyes and got back to chopping wood, that was his work, after all. He tried his best to ignore the younger boy, but it was hard when he was only a few feet away and he looked fucking edible. Tony found himself glancing at Peter more often than not, making him smile triuphantly, which Tony pretended he did not see. It was harder to do his work with the pair of honey eyes (do not ask how did he know what color Peter's eyes were) constantly on him, his hits becoming less accuare until he wasn't even splitting them in half but into thirds and two-thirds. He shook his head, deciding to take a break. He put the chopped wood into a wheelbarrow and manouvered it into the shed, putting them away into the organized pile that stood next to the wall. The next thing he knew, Peter was there next to him, picking up a piece of wood and putting it down next to the ones Tony placed. Tony adjusted it a little so it sat straight, like the rest, and put three more next to it.

"Hey Tones... would you like to come with me to the lake later today?"

Tony scoffed. "It's Tony. And no, if you haven't realized yet, I have a lot of work to do."

"What else are you gonna do?"

"I have to finish chopping wood, lock the animals up and the boss told me there's a car that needs to be checked as well."

"Yes, my car! It doesn't want to start, I don't know what's wrong with it. Ahh, you're gonna look at my car? That's so nice of you Tony, I really appreciate it. Maybe- maybe you could teach me something? Like, I could watch while you work and you tell me how everything works and-"

"No." Tony finished up putting the wood away and lead the wheelbarrow back outside and put it down close to himself as he started chopping wood again. He managed to cut three before he heard Peter's voice again.

"What do you mean no? Why not?"

Tony sighed. "I was told to take a look at your car and fix it, not to give you a car mechanics one-oh-one. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do, no less, no more. Now if you'd please stop distracting me, I'd greatly appreciate that."

Tony heard a small huff behind himself, then saw the boy pass by him and finally left Tony alone. He heard the slam of a door, Peter probably went back to the farm house. So Tony continued chopping wood in peace, but soon regretted sending Peter away because his job was way less interesting without him around. Maybe he did actually need that company...

The sun was starting to set when Tony finally got to checking Peter's car. He put a portable lamp down next to himself as he opened the hood of the car.

"Tell me where it hurts, babygirl," he mumbled to the machine as he smoothed his hands down the engine. He looked through it and found the battery termials. A loose positive cable, of course. Tony carefully removed the negative cable, so he could tighten the positive without getting shocked. Then, he plugged the negative back in, both of them nice and snug in their place. He closed the hood and sat in the car to check if it would start. He turned the key that was still in the ignition and the engine began rumbling. When he stepped on the gas pedal, the vehicle started. Tony laughed victoriously and turned the car off.

This was probably his fourth time that he sat down during the whole day, so he savoured it. He leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath. The car smelled like Peter, the most intoxicating scent ever. Tony didn't often get to be engulfed by that smell, but it was so good, he never wanted to leave that bubble he was in, never ever. He knew that's not how it worked, though, and he sighed as he leaned back forward, ready to open the door, when suddenly the passenger door on the other side of him opened, and a very shirtless Peter Parker got into the car, a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Let's go," he said.

"What? Where?"

"To the lake. You said you had no time because you had work. But this was your last job and now that you fixed my car, we can go and take a relaxing dip together."

"Peter, no-"

"Peter yes. Now start the car, please, I wanna get there before the sun sets fully. It's so pretty, you have to see it."

Tony shook his head again, but when he looked at the puppy dog eyed boy, he knew he lost the battle. He couldn't say no to that sight, he had to go. So with a sigh, he started the engine again and he put it in reverse to back up to the road. Peter told him exactly what direction to go, since Tony hadn't been to the lake yet, and soon they were in a secluded area, nature surrounding them and the small lake. Peter got out of the car and eagerly ran towards the clear water, Tony following in suit.

Peter dropped his pants, now only clad in a pair of tight boxers that perfectly hugged his round ass, and walked into the water. He let out a little yelp as it touched his skin.

"It's a bit cold," he giggled. "But it's still nice, come on!"

Tony shook his head with a slight smile, but started unbuttoning his flannel anyways. He watched as Peter's eyes followed his movements, the boy basically drooling over Tony's exposed upper body. But Tony couldn't say anything, he was no different. Seeing Peter's lean figure was something he was still not used to, probably never will be used to.

He unbuckled and unbuttoned his jeans as well and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them and his shoes. Now he was also in only his boxers and while he knew he really should not have done it, Peter was irresistible. So he walked into the cool water as well, pleasant against his overheated skin.

At its deepest point, the water came up to Tony's hip, just covering the hem of his boxers, while it reached up to Peter's waist. The height difference between them was so obvious in that moment. Hell, every difference between them was so obvious, Tony's tanned hands against Peter's pale skin, calloused hands on the boy's silky soft sides while Peter placed his own, smooth hands on Tony's chest. They were so close to each other, they were touching each other. And not only that, but the amount of clothes separating them was minimal. It was so much easier to resist Peter on the farm, where people were around them and Tony knew what was his job. Where there was always at least a foot distance between them and an acceptable amount of clothes on them. But now, no one was there to interrupt them, nothing could've possibly made Tony step away from the beautiful boy. He was getting lost in the moment, lost in the honey colored eyes, the endless amount of freckles littering Peter's gorgeous cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelases that fluttered so beautifully, like the wings of a graceful butterfly, the deep pink of those soft looking lips. Tony couldn't help his hand that moved on its own, coming up to touch Peter's bottom lip gently and yes, it was so soft, so delicate.

"Just kiss me already," Peter breathed, his usual teasing tone gone, now he was straight up begging. It made that last bit of resistance melt away, the last brick of the wall that Tony built around the two of them smash into tiny pieces, and their lips pressed together within a heartbeat. It was passionate, rough, months of built up tension poured into it. Tony'd hands began roaming up and down Peter's sides and back before one of them finally rested at the back of his neck, pulling him in, deepening the kiss, and the other one just below his ass as it pulled Peter's leg out of the water to wrap around his waist. The younger boy's arms wrapped around his back as well, hands burying into Tony's sweaty hair.

It was perfect, everything about the kiss was perfect and Tony never wanted to stop. Especially not when Peter's other leg followed the one that Tony was holding and he clung to Tony with his whole body. Only then did Tony notice the tent in the younger one's boxers.

"Tony," he gasped between kisses. "Please, do something, please."

And how can a weak, weak man like Tony resist to something like that? He grapped Peter's plump ass with both hands and started grinding the boy down against himself, the sweet friction on their clothes cocks making both of them moan out loud. The kissing came to an end as their jaws dropped in order to let their sounds flow, but they remained close to each other, basically sharing a breath. Their foreheads leaned against each other, half lidded eyes staring into the other's while they moved in tandem, grinding against one another.

"You're so beautiful," Tony said, his voice gravelly. "Skin so pretty and soft... I wanna mark it all up, make it mine. Make you mine."

"Take me. Take me, I'm yours, always have been yours."

"God, Peter. You're so good, fuck, so hot."

"Want everyone to know that I belong to you, Tony. Want them to see that the hottest man in the fucking world owns me. That I'm yours and no one else's-"

"And I'm yours, too."

They shared a few more lazy kisses between loud moans of the other one's name, both of them nearing their climax rapidly. Peter was the first who came, a harsh bite on his shoulder pushing him over the edge. As he came, he let out a scream louder than the ones he had before, which made Tony lose himself as well and come with Peter's name rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

They still held each other close as they came down from their high and tried to catch their breath. Tony was rocking Peter side to side, making the younger boy sleepy.

"Tony," he whispered.

"Yes, baby?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I love you."

Tony chuckled. "Can I tell you a secret as well?"

"Mhm."

"I've loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you."

[ladyswillmart]

Yes, it was the same dream, running again and again through the subconscious partition of his mind ever since his arrival to the Lands Between. In another time, another place, he could liken the phenomenon to a local low power television station mistakenly airing the same two or three reruns of Mister Ed between late night brokered programming, night after night, a simile that could only be crafted from something observed and never forgotten.

Anachronisms aside, it wasn’t that Arlen didn’t welcome the respite offered by dreams, but the vision was getting a little old. The setting was not a barn with a talking horse, or even something about a new kind of food processor or home mortgage scam, but the Askew family yurt, by nature a temporary structure, this time constructed on a peculiarly scenic cliff that was flanked by a rushing stream to the west and a steep downward pathway to the east, where a rambling garden hosted its own ecosystem in miniature.

And it was time to go. For his people, it was time to pack up and go more often than not, but this time and for unknowable reasons, his family was lingering there for an unusually long while. In the dream, they had put down roots, deep enough to secure the rows of potatoes and pockets of thyme, a patch of wildflowers, a small pasture for the lambs, a family of sparrows.

Most of the time, Arlen was distraught about having to leave, for different but compelling reasons. About never getting to taste the literal fruits of their hard work, about never seeing the fledgling sparrows flit about the chickweed and self-heal, as they strengthened their wings, learned to fly.

Though on rare occasions, the move would come as a relief; whether in dreams or reality, growing roots does tend to complicate things. His people lived, breathed, embodied this philosophy in nearly every aspect of their lives and Arlen supposed they’d all done pretty alright for themselves so far.

But tonight, Arlen was utterly inconsolable. In the dream, his parents informed him and his twin brother and their six siblings that they would not be packing up, they would not be leaving their new homestead. They would be staying here forever. How unusual. Isn’t that what he always wanted? Why was he crying so much about this? But I want to go home, he kept bawling. Even amidst the vegetables and sparrows and the psychic paradise of permanence, I want to go home, I want to go home.

Then, a small voice. One of his younger sisters, offering words of solace perhaps. Arlen couldn’t understand them.

“Aye, what’s that?” he mumbled. The yurt was beginning to unfurl.

“I said: Spoken echoes of Queen Marika linger here, as well,” said the girl.

Arlen’s eyes popped open. The impact of sudden lucidity forced a ragged gasp, the sole report from a sandman’s rug pull. He very ungracefully toppled out of his curled position against what remained of a dilapidated stone chapel wall.

“What!” he managed to exhale, paddling like a nestling albatross against slippery grass and rock, struggling to see the owner of that voice—that he now recognized—through the teeming darkness and the algid mist that blanketed every surface in this blighted peninsula. “Where? Wh—”

“It’s only me,” said Melina, the curve of her cheek somehow made more visible by virtue of the shadows surrounding it. “Were you asleep?”

“I... I was...” Arlen sputtered. “Was I?”

“I did ask if you were asleep and you had naught to say in return,” she continued, her tone conveying a faint suggestion of sweetness. “All curled up like that. Like a dead spider. One could’ve mistaken you for a common corpse. So I spoke, in hopes you would respond. That I was not too late.”

A corpse...? Arlen reflexively brushed his cheeks, which felt cold, clammy. Wet—was he crying? No, it had to be this place, where everything always felt so cold, clammy, wet, inexorably weeping.

Must be why they call it Weeping Peninsula. I s'ppose.

He sniffled conspicuously. “I see. Ah. No, no. No worries, I wasn’t dead and I wasn’t sleeping, neither. I was just, uhm,” he mused, “thinking, I reckon. About one thing or another. Mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms?”

“Awful lot of them about, don’t you think? It’s so grotty I feel like I might become one if I loiter too much.” Even his laugh was watery.

“That is a distinct possibility,” said Melina, a touch too easily. “But you seem well enough for now. Shall I tell you then, what Queen Marika said in this place?”

Arlen sighed, allowing his head to hit the back of the wall once more with a soggy, resigned thump. Perhaps this eidolon had her own Mister Ed reruns on permanent rotation in her mind.

“Alright,” he said, feeling sufficiently sedated for another round of cosmic applesauce. “If you like.”

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 10/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,583

Tony went to Brock's to tell him about winning the case against Obie and Pierce, and ended up making another less expected announcement. One that Brock followed up with good news of his own.

"Wait? You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. We're not telling people yet," Brock told him.

"I'm sorry, what? If I hadn't just told you I was pregnant, would you not have told me?"

"Probably not."

"What the fuck, Brock? I'm your best friend!"

"Yeah, but you know I was an only child, Tony. Not from a lack of trying on my parents' part either. They went through three miscarriages before they finally used in vitro to have me. If this baby doesn't make it, I don't want to deal with a whole bunch of people pitying me while I'm grieving."

Tony reached over and pulled him in for a hug.

"Okay, I get it now, but can I at least tell Steve?"

"Honestly, it's inevitable. I went to the hair salon yesterday and my hairdresser told me that Jessica, some girl that lives in her apartment that I don't even know, was having an affair with her current lover's ex-lover, not to mention she's married with three kids. I spilled my guts the moment Sam got home. Keeping things from mates is practically impossible."

Tony bit his lip.

"I haven't told Steve."

"Of course you didn't. You just found out, Tony. You literally haven't even left the room and your phone is sitting on the coffee table. How would you have told him?"

Tony shook his head.

"No, not that. I mean that I'm pregnant."

Brock blinked at him for a minute before narrowing his eyes.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously.

Tony fidgeted nervously.

"I don't know how he's gonna take it," Tony admitted.

Brock rolled his eyes.

"Good God, you're pathetic," Brock groaned in exasperation. "Seriously? That boy lives to please you. He's gonna be thrilled that you're gonna need massages and foot rubs for the next nine months. Not to mention, now he's gonna have two people to order him around. He's gonna be so excited to spoil your little mini-me, Tony."

Tony glared at him halfheartedly.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still anxious about it and I'm not entirely sure why. I know it's ridiculous and I know Steve's gonna be thrilled."

Brock eyed him for a moment.

"Yes, we've established that," Brock said, watching Tony carefully. "What about you? Are you excited about it?"

Tony bit his lip and looked over at Brock guiltily.

"I don't know. I know that I should be. I know that babies are like miracles and all that, but I never thought I'd have one. I never thought I'd have an Alpha and now I do, and now this. It's just a lot and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I'm not sure if I want a child."

Brock nodded.

"If you need someone to go with you to take care of it, Tony-"

"No, no, I'm gonna keep it. I already considered that, but I think I'll regret it if I do."

Brock frowned.

"There's nothing wrong-"

"No, I know, Brock. It's not that. It's just- I think I'm scared, because this wasn't part of the plan. Steve wasn't part of the plan and the plan has completely changed. It's a lot, but I was scared about Steve, too, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe this baby will be like that too."

Brock nodded.

"Okay, if it's really what you want then I'll support it and be happy for you. I'll support you no matter what choice you make, you know that right?"

"I do and I love you for that."

Brock rolled his eyes, but he smiled softly and pulled Tony in for a hug.

"Now let's talk nurseries," Brock said when he pulled back.

Tony grinned at him.

*****

"We're buying the bar," Tony said to the group. 

He had invited everyone over to Steve's place, since his place was bigger and neater and just overall better for hosting people. He chose to do this on a Sunday night, the only night that the bar wasn't open, so everyone could be there. Everyone was so excited about having won the case, but also scared about what that would mean for them. They had all figured when they first decided to take their boss to court that they would be left jobless regardless of the outcome. 

Clint raised his hand like he was still in elementary school and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Clint? Do you have something to say to the class?" Tony said sarcastically.

"Um... you're doing what?"

Tony sighed.

"We-" He said, gesturing between him and Steve, "Are buying the bar. This way we can all keep our jobs, have decent fucking pay checks, get the benefits we deserve, and just overall have a positive work environment. Sound good?"

There were murmurs and nods of agreement. Bucky stood up and grabbed the bottle of wine on the counter.

"Okay, well, I think we should all drink to that and to our new bosses."

"Yeah, um, we should clarify, that while I'm technically gonna be on the lease, it's really only because it looks good to have an Alpha on it," Steve said. "I'm an artist. Um, leadership? Yeah, that's not really my thing. Tony, though, he's gonna make a damn fine boss. So yeah, he's gonna run the place and work with you guys. I'm just gonna do the paperwork and manage schedules. That kind of behind the scenes stuff."

Tony giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Steve's gonna be a great co-owner and let me do whatever I want with the place, so I suggest you kiss up to me, if there's anything specific you want out of the renovations," Tony teased. "Steve will also be very busy raising our child and being a work-from-home dad while he paints and helps manage the bar.

Tony rested his hand on his flat belly and all the eyes in the room went wide and congratulations and cheers went off after a moment of shock. Steve was the most shocked though and it took him the longest to say something.

"Wait? Are you serious? Tony, if you're joking then tell me now before I get my hopes up."

"Nope, not joking," Tony told him with a grin, but a part of him was nervous that Steve would be unhappy about it.

"Oh my God. Oh my God! We're having a baby!" Steve practically shouted to the room in his excitement and scooped Tony up into his arms.

Tony laughed and wrapped his limbs around him, leaning down to kiss him.

"I can't believe it. This is amazing, baby! I'm gonna set up a nursery-"

"No, I'm setting up the nursery and Brock's gonna help me since he's also pregnant and we're gonna have matching nurseries."

"Right, right, then I'm gonna paint a mural on the walls."

"That's acceptable."

"Yeah and- Wait? Did you say Brock's pregnant?"

"Yeah, but you didn't hear it from me. They're not telling people yet," Tony told him with a wink.

Steve furrowed his brows.

"Who else would I have heard it from if they're not telling people?"

"I don't know. Sam?"

"But Sam would know that he didn't tell me," Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Not my problem."

Steve set Tony down when Bucky cleared his throat.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I've got wine," Bucky said handing a glass to Steve before reaching for a glass on the counter, "and for you--"

"Oh, no, I can't--"

"It's grape juice, Tony," Bucky cut him off. "I wouldn't do anything to risk your baby."

Tony nodded his thanks and smiled at Bucky.

"Congratulations, by the way. On the mating and the pup."

The words seemed sincere enough, but Bucky's smile seemed off. Tony brushed it off though, letting everyone else come up and hug him and make him promise to invite them to the baby shower. It was a good day, everyone in high spirits, excited about the new baby and getting to keep their jobs. 

*****

That night at home Steve sat on the couch with Tony's feet in his lap, rubbing them.

"I'll do this for you everyday until the baby's born," Steve promised.

Tony smirked.

"Only until the baby's born," Tony teased, wiggling his toes.

Steve laughed.

"No, I'll do it every day until we die, because I love you more than anything in the world and I'd do anything for you, Tony, my beautiful Omega.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Yeah, well, don't let the baby hear you say that. I'm pretty sure your world is going to expand the moment I pop this thing out."

"Yeah," Steve said dreamily. "I can't believe we're gonna be parents."

"Yeah, this kid's so fucked," Tony teased.

Steve grinned at him.

"We're gonna have the most spoiled, loved, and happiest baby ever. He's never gonna want for anything."

"He? What makes you think we're having a boy?"

"Or she," Steve amended. "I don't care either way. I just hope the baby's just like you."

"Well, jokes on you. This baby's gonna have blond hair and blue eyes."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say the baby was gonna look like you, just be like you. You know, brilliant and stubborn."

Tony giggled and shook his head.

“Just focus on rubbing my feet, Alpha.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve teased.

[malfoyfarms]

Behind His Back

maybe a rafe imagine? i get it if you don’t want to write for him :) -nonnie

hi can you do a fluff/angst with rafe pls 🥺🥺-nonnie

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

T/W: couple a swear words

A/N: So I managed to finish three requests bc I’m sitting in the barn waiting for my last three cows to calve... hopefully they’ll all be posted soon! 

You pushed the lobster and pasta around your plate trying to avoid any conversation with the adults who were gathered around you. The polka dotted dress you were wearing was constricting your movement, probably on purpose so you wouldn’t mess up the perfectly pinned back hair. 

Your family had invited the Cameron’s over this evening, celebrating you and Rafe’s one and a half years of dating. To you it felt like a business deal, but all you wanted from your parents was to hear “We’re proud of you,” and if that meant dating Rafe Cameron, then so be it. 

You weren’t one to lie, you had fallen in love with the boy, but things between the two of you weren’t exactly the same as when you had first announced your partnership. Deep down you two understood each other, but it still didn’t completely outweigh the unhealthy behavior. 

“So Y/N, where have you been looking for college? I know your Mom’s an alum of Wake Forest,” Ward asked you from across the large table. Swallowing your bite and wiping your mouth, you prepared your answer. Rafe and I were a year apart, him already attending the university in Chapel Hill.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for next week, but I accepted a position to play field hockey at Dartmouth College,” you responded absentmindedly. You flashed a large smile, feeling Rafe’s hand tighten around your thigh. He hated thinking about the two of you parting ways for college, therefore you never talked about it. 

“Y/N, I thought you were applying to UNC Chapel Hill?” Rafe asked, caught off guard by the response you gave his father. 

“No, not anymore. With double legacy, a first-gen woman at Dartmouth, and a position to keep playing field hockey, I’d be stupid not to accept,” I stated, getting heated. My two older brothers made eye contact with Sarah, John B and Wheezie, knowing it was about to get interesting. 

“It’s beautiful here in North Carolina, why would you want to leave?”

“I can ski in New Hampshire,” I retorted.

“We’re a team, Y/N, I thought we talked about decisions before we made them,” Rafe was turning red. You were challenging him, in front of both families and a pogue. 

“We’re not married, Rafe, I can make my own decisions,” You rolled your eyes. As if anything more could go wrong, your eldest brother threw in a comment about a friend of his he could introduce you to so you can acclimate to the campus properly. 

“I just can’t believe you went behind my back when making such a life altering decision. What you chose affects my reputation,” He was looking down at you, like you were a dog and he was your owner. You were ready to destroy, destroy, destroy, just like Daddy had taught his little girl. 

“Oh, so it’s okay to go behind my back and do drugs with Topper and Kelce, or go around beating the shit out of the kids from the cut?” His eyes were starting to dart around as the entire table kept watching. You weren’t finished though. “It’s okay to go behind my back and take my tip money to pay your drug lord? Rafe, your actions affect my reputation.” You spat with a mocking tone. Everyone was silent. 

You stood up, pushed in your chair and made your way to your bedroom. You hadn’t even had the door closed before you stripped your dress off, replacing it with shorts and a sweatshirt representing your future commitment.

Tears were pricking your eyes due to the scene you had caused downstairs. Your mother would be furious without a doubt, but your dad may let you off the hook, you were his baby girl. All you wanted to do was impress your parents with the academic and athletic achievement, but once again you let Rafe’s words cause actions that took that very moment away from you. 

~

It was going on 3:30 in the morning, when you heard your brother walk down the hall towards your room. Quickly wiping your eyes, and standing up to greet him.

“Rafe is on the front porch waiting for you. He called me like nine times because you decided to turn off your phone,” he said. “I can make him go away if you want.”

You shrugged your shoulders and silently made your way to your boyfriend. Once you opened the door and took in his appearance as it matched your own. Red-rimmed eyes, runny nose and twitchy hands. 

Here the vicious cycle began again. You’d fight, make a fool of each other, and then run right back to each other. You slid right into his arms, holding onto him as tight as your hands could. This cycle was the only way you knew how to love. You had learned from your parents, seeing many situations such as the one that had just played out between you and Rafe. 

What you noticed was that as you gripped him, he didn’t return the favor. He gently peeled your arms off of his body, then turning away and wiping his eyes. 

“Look, Y/N, after the scene you caused tonight, I think we,” he paused. You knew exactly where this was going. You had thrown too big of a fit this time. “We need to take a break for a little, get ourselves on the right path, then possibly rejoin.”

“Rafe what the fuck, did you just recite that from a script?” he wouldn’t make eye contact with you, proving your theory correct. 

“No, I just think it’s best for us, this way we can figure out what we’re doing before you leave in the fall.”

“Rafe, I leave the second week of May to start practices, we either fix this now, or end it now,” you whimpered, revealing another secret you hadn’t had time to tell anyone yet.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

~

It was the annual Christmas Party at the Country Club, and you were not looking forward to it. All the kook families were going to be there, including the Cameron’s. It wasn’t Ward, or Rose, or even Sarah that you were scared to see, it was Rafe. Ward wasn’t as upset as you thought he would be to find out you had ended things with his son, probably more focused on cleaning the reputation his son had picked up. 

The preppy skirt and sweater combination you had on complemented your new body type, highlighting the now more developed muscles. One semester of collegiate sports had completely changed you. You finished pinning back your front pieces of hair and made your way to the living room where your family and your new boyfriend were waiting. 

His name was Wilder Buchanon, a third year at Dartmouth, you had met over the summer as he was another fellow athlete. Your families adored one another, almost more than the two of you’s attraction to each other.

As you made your way into the venue, all eyes were on you once again. You were flooded with greetings from other kook kids, asking how New Hampshire was, about your studies, and most importantly the man standing next to you. Everything around was a blur when your eyes met Rafe’s from across the room. 

He didn’t look the same. His eyes had dark circles around them, his shoulders were slightly hunched as if he was trying to hide. He overall just didn’t look well.

“Wilder, I’m going to go get something to drink, I’ll be right back,” he nodded in acknowledgement and removed his hand from your back. 

Your feet carried you towards the former lover, and he instantly looked at you. He flashed a soft smile and took in your new appearance. Your y/h/c hair had grown long, you had put on muscle, not in a bad way. 

“You look good kid,” he chuckled softly.

“How have you been doing Rafe?” There was a genuine tone to your voice.

“Better, I’m officially two months sober, and I’ll be going back to Chapel Hill in the spring,” he responded. 

He didn’t expect you to envelope him in a hug, and tell him you were proud of him, but he accepted it greatly. Of course his smile softened when he met Wilder, but he was right. The two of you needed to work on yourselves as the relationship the two of you shared was unhealthy. He couldn’t be mad at Wilder for falling for such a wonderful girl like you. 

“Go back to be with your boy,” he said softly. “Just remember kid, I’ll always be in your corner.” He moved your hair behind your ear, and sent you on your way.

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming pt 39

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay

Mimi

I knocked at the door and waited for a response. Miss Eos had decided to take a nap after her late night phone call and told me to wake her up once Callidora was about to reach her final mile. Jude had sent me an alert on my tablet and I hurried as fast as I was capable of to Miss Eos’s room to wake her.

After a few rounds of knocking I decided I needed to risk punishment and just enter the room. The punishment for failing to follow through on her orders would be much worse than the one I might get for entering her room without permission.

“Miss Eos?” I hobbled across the room and lightly touched her shoulder.

She sat up, took a deep breath, and glared at me. “Whatever happened to knocking, Mimi?”

“I-I I’m sorry, Miss Eos.” I tried my best to stay strong. Miss Eos always seemed to have a soft spot for me despite everything she did to me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t afraid of her getting angry at me. “I tried knocking but you didn’t respond. You said to wake you when Callidora reached her last mile. I-I didn’t want you to miss it.”

She picked up her phone, probably to check the time. It was three in the morning. She was on her final mile in little over six hours. Not a marathon pace under normal circumstances, but given her circumstances it was fairly impressive. Most ponies tended to start collapsing early on and their shoes actively worked against them. I knew that feeling better than anyone, the only thing worse than the hoof boots were the ballet boots I was locked in.

She stood up, went behind a screen, and began to get changed into her formal riding gear. It was important to reinforce Callidora’s place. Miss Eos was a rider and Callidora was a pony. “Did she require the harness to finish her run?”

I scrolled through my tablet to check Jude’s logs. “Yes, Miss Eos. Though fairly late. Over 97 percent of our new ponies require the harness set up to keep them on their feet by the fifteenth mile. Callidora managed to make it to mile 22 before she collapsed the first time. It puts her in our racehorse category.”

“And Z was going to waste this potential by making her a puppy.” Miss Eos laughed as she came out from behind the changing screen.

“It seems especially impressive given the speed increase you ordered around mile sixteen. Even after the harness cables were attached to keep her up, Jude kept the treadmill going at three miles over the standard speed.” I stood at attention as Miss Eos passed me and went into the hallway. I tried my best to follow her, but even after all this time I couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with other people and soon lost sight of her.

I sighed and decided to do some of my maid duties. I wanted to see what was going to happen, but walking in late would just make things weird. I’d probably see Callidora doing training in the yard soon enough anyway.

Hopefully Callidora would put Miss Eos in a good mood. It had been awhile since we had a real winner and if Callidora played her cards right she would be cared for very well. Her own spacious stall, good food, and attention. The best ponies got a personal stablehand to take care of them. It was nicer than most slaves would ever get, myself included.

I couldn’t imagine anyone willingly jeopardizing such luxury.

Eos

I quietly walked into the barn, passing stablehands that stopped what they were doing to bow as I was passing. I couldn’t help but smile at the obedience on display. I was once told the idea of using slaves as stablehands was a bad idea. Giving slaves such an important job was a bad idea. They’d sabotage the operations. They’d try to escape or rebel if I let them congregate.

But I did it anyway and it allowed my operation to expand quickly. The stablehands were given an amount of freedom but more or less had a gun to their head. Any mistake or signs of rebellion were harshly punished. They could be replaced. If they acted out they would most likely find themselves in a worse position. I chose stablehands from slaves not fit to be ponies or cows which gave them limited alternative use. I usually sold them off to one of the families that made them into various useful objects. A combination of drugs and restraints could make anyone something as nice as an artful cup holder or as unfortunate as an urinal. Eitherway, I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to spend the rest of their life like that, it's why I suggested they behave during introductions.

I made my way to the exercise room and knocked on the door quietly before I walked in. The treadmills faced away from the door so Callidora couldn’t see me. I could see her though and it was quite the sight.

Her body glistened in sweat, the evidence of her long hard run. Her ass was still a bright red from being at the end of Jude’s crop the entire night. I could see her legs were shaking. The new pony’s legs always shook like newborn fawns when they were finished with their runs. None of them were ever prepared for a marathon like they had experienced.

I watched her stumble, but the cables attached to her harness from the ceiling caught her. I heard her make an angry noise when the cables went taut. I didn’t want the ponies to rely on the harnesses to keep them up, so when the cables became taut they got a shock so they’d get their weight off of them.

She was breathing hard, but I could still tell that there was determination in her. To prove she couldn’t be controlled she had to show she wasn’t weak. All that did was show us that she was a prize though. It was always amusing to see a slave play right into your hands.

Jude looked up at me and was about to greet me, but I held a finger to my lips. She nodded and turned back to Callidora. I approached her as well, standing to the side of the treadmill. Her blinders didn’t allow her to see me, but she knew someone was standing next to her. She tried to turn her head to look at me and Jude corrected her with a swap from the crop. Ponies needed to keep their minds on the task at hand, not distractions. The blinders were there to help with this, not to make her look around.

Callidora grumbled unhappily from the swat, but kept looking forward. She stumbled one more time and got another shock before she made it to the end. The treadmill slowed to a stop and her legs were shaking non-stop.

“Jude, disconnect the current so Callidora can use the harness to take weight off her legs.” Jude walked to the other end of the room and pushed a few buttons before giving me a thumbs up. “You can rest now, Callidora.”

The mare ignored me and continued to try and stay on her feet. I grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at me. “Hello Callidora. My name is Mistress Eos. I am your new owner. You know longer have to worry about Z and her incompetence. You just completed your first marathon and I am extremely impressed. You’re going to do well here.”

Callidora tried to say something through the gag. She seemed unable to stop running her mouth even when she couldn’t use it. I undid some of the pieces of her tack, allowing for the bit to be removed while leaving the rest of the headpiece on.

“B…” Callidora was breathing hard and stretching out her jaw. Her voice failed her on whatever she was trying to say.

“I’m letting you talk right now. It’s a small gift. Think wisely about what you want to tell me.” I smiled and stroked her hair. It was a nice length, but I was going to want it longer for a much nicer ponytail.

“Bitch.” She spat the word at me, anger in her eyes.

“Adorable.” I grabbed the crop and hit her leg with it. She crumpled, if it wasn’t for the cables she’d have collapsed on the floor. “I’m sure you think you’re very strong. I know you think you can take anything we can dish out after spending time with Z. As much as I hate to admit it, she was very talented at breaking things like you.”

“Is she now?” She spoke between breaths. “She didn’t seem very talented at much aside from pushing a button on a shock collar.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I like that fiery spirit of yours, Callidora. I think we’d get along very well if you just let yourself enjoy your time here.”

“I think you should go fuck yourself.” She spat the words out again.

“Oh Callidora.” I stroked her hair again as I spoke. “You’re never going to escape from here. You are a slave in the Society. An organization like ours doesn’t stay around for hundreds of years because slaves escape. Z wanted you for a pet. It’s a waste of your talents. You’re a runner. You want challenges. This is the perfect position for you. Tonight was harsh, but its trial by fire. Your daily routines will be easier than this.”

“And if I refuse?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that question. I walked away from Callidora and approached Jude. “Have Callidora taken to one of the bigger stalls. Give her the full works, muscle massage, bath, food and water. Let her get a few hours of sleep.”

“Of course, Miss Eos.” Jude nodded and left the room to go get some more stablehands to assist in transporting Callidora.

I took another look at her just hanging from the ceiling over the treadmill. “You’ll get to see some of the nicer things you’ll get to experience if you work with me. The treatment the best of our racehorses get. Later this afternoon you’ll get to go on a tour of the grounds. You’ll learn then what might happen to you if you refuse. It’s only fair I give you all the information available before you make a decision you’ll regret.”

[katrandomwrites]

AO3 Link \ Part Two [soon]

Short vignettes from each of the crew and their relationship with Jonny's heart.

(Is it out of character? Yeah probably but I like the sibling-esque dynamic of ‘I killed them 83 times this month but if you even touch them I will salt the earth with your desiccated remains’.)

---

Part One: Dr. Carmilla (morally grey), Jonny, The Aurora, Nastya, Ashes, and Ivy TW// mention of medical abuse | canon-typical violence | sensory overload

Doctor Carmilla, Lonely Vampire

She was proud looking down at the freshly cleaned and repaired body on her table. His chest rose and fell after a week of stillness. Carmilla almost couldn't believe that she’d finally done it. Finally restored a body to life permanently.

Her cowboy groaned as he came closer to consciousness. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the tick and flow of his new heart. It was a good heart. He was a good kid.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

Everything could be good now.

Jonny Vangelis, Dead Cowboy

Jonny woke up. He shouldn't- How was he-

Something was ticking. Where?

His chest felt heavy and his breast bone burned.

Something cold was in his hand- no, something cold was holding his hand.

His eyes shot open and he scrambled away from the cold thing only to find himself falling to the floor. He screamed when the impact lit a blazing fire of pain in his ribs.

The cold (hands?) things were back holding his face and shushing him but the pain began to pulse.

Tic. Burn. Tic. Burn.

Jonny pulled down the collar of his shirt to see a mess of thick scars and metal seams to the left of his sternum. His breathing quickened but the ticking held it’s tempo.

“What did you do?” he screamed. Carmilla’s face was inches from his as she tried to pull him closer.

“WHAT DID YOU DO, CARMA?”

The doctor’s face broke, as if she was only now realizing what was happening; what she’d done, “I-I couldn’t lose you… not like that. Not when you were still so you-”

“You promised! You promised you’d let me go!” Jonny cried.

“I’m sorry,”

Tears were falling now as Carmilla pulled him against her. Jonny tried to push her off but the pain was too much and the coolness of her cheek against his was soothing.

“It hurts,” he sobbed, “It hurts so much. Why?”

I’m sorry.

The Aurora, Cyberian Battle-cruiser

The winner of the roulette game and her new 'owner' sauntered onto the bridge and looked around. She contemplated just electrocuting him to death once he touched anything.

"I must say you are a simply gorgeous craft," he said, running a hand over the embossed leather of the captain’s seat, "Somebody put a lot of love into your creation."

The Aurora preened a bit despite herself. At least he had good taste.

“I’m gonna have to go by some polish tho, love. You are absolutely filthy! Where they finger painting with space cheetos on the flight screen,” he looked disgusted at the greasy smears decorating the console, “Maybe a steamer? Some of this shit is worked in, darling.”

>> Thank you. I would appreciate that greatly.

The intruder looked bewildered at the flight screen and fell back into the captain's seat when she rumbled in amusement. He whipped his head around as if to find a source or rogue crewman.

>> Did you really just win a ship without knowing what it was?

>> Poor planning on your part.

The intruder took a moment to process what was happening before he crossed his arms and huffed, "I just do what the Doc tells me so she doesn't decide that I'm in need of having my chest ripped open again."

>> Judging by the way you won me: I would say that isn't detrimental to your life.

"It still fucking hurts!"

The Aurora rumbled again, finding that she quite enjoyed her guest. He may be fussing in the captain's seat, pretending to be offended, but he was still watching the screen for anything else she had to say.

It had been years since anyone had treated her as anything other than just a means of transportation with the downside of sentience. She found herself analysing him closer and realized there was a mechanically ticking coming from him.

Was he also…?

>> Well, I suppose I must register you as Captain so we may take off. I am unable to lift off without any registered crew.

Her guest shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Not that I don't appreciate that but, uh, I think that's more her place."

The Aurora was starting to get the idea that whoever his travel companion was, they would not be getting along.

>> No

He startled and Aurora realized just how young he looked. Her previous crews were all older Cyberians weathered and jaded by constant battle. This new…. boy, looked more like the young men barely old enough to grow beards that manned her mess hall during the war.

She still remembered the sad stories they told of home.

>> No. You earned me. I am choosing you as the Captain.

"But-"

She buzzed at him before pulling up a login screen.

>> Primary Captain : Please Enter Your Information As Prompted_

Her guest hesitated before beginning to type. It was endearing how gently he placed his hand over the print reader and she could feel the strange rhythm of his heartbeat flitting across his palm.

>> Welcome Captain Jonathon E. Vangelis .

Jonathon beamed at the Aurora's screen before a look of horror dawned on him, "She's going to skin me alive," he whispered.

The Aurora hummed as anger charged her systems and pulled up another screen.

>> I have an idea

>> Loading…

>> Primary Captain profile locked and hidden.

>> Passcode Set to: Handprint and Vocal Verification

>> Loading...

>> First Mate : Please Enter Your Information As Prompted_

“But she’ll know if the Captain’s position is filled” Jonathan protested.

>> I was built to house up to three captains. Your doctor doesn’t have to know that one of the positions has been filled.

Jonathon stared at the screen with a small smile and sniffled before typing again. His accent that had rounded and drawn his words was muted under an average Basic dialect as he spoke now.

>> Welcome, First Mate Jonny d'Ville .

>> Now about those cleaning supplies...

Nastya Rasputina, Former Princess

She ran, following the instructions the Aurora had given her deeper into the ship. She turned to make sure the doctor wasn't following her and ran directly into something warm and squishy. They landed with a grunt.

Nastya scrambled up to look at the… kid? He looked at her in surprise before turning to anger and suspicion..

"How the fuck did you get down here?"

Nastya opened her mouth and realized she didn’t have a response to that. Her eyes began to burn.

“Oh shit. Fuck. I’m sorry I didn’t- Shit shit shit.”

None of this registered as Nastya began to sob. A hand brushed her arm and she threw herself into the boy’s lap. It was undignified but it felt good to be touched by a warm body instead of the doctor’s cold hands.

“Okay, shit,” he shifted her around so her face was buried in his chest.

“I-I’m sorry-, Nastya choked out, “she-she just kept poking and I couldn’t- it hurt so much.”

The arms around her shoulders tightened, causing her to turn her head and look up at him. He looked sad, not in a pitying way but a guilty way.

“I’ll talk to her okay? Sometimes… sometimes she forgets we can feel like that,” he sighed, “I’m Jonny by the way.”

Nastya vaguely remembered the Doctor mentioning there was another like her on board.

“Nastya.”

Jonny gave her a smile and leaned back against the wall with her still pressed against his chest. Nastya rested her head on his sternum and heard an odd ticking sound.

Huh , she thought distantly, that’s why he’s like me. The ticking heart to my metal blood.

Nastya fell asleep safe.

Ashes O’Reilly, Pyromaniac Gangster

Ashes took another shakey drag of their cigarette as the adrenaline from burning Malone faded. They were tired and a rotting sense of uneasy was beginning to fester in their chest.

Of course now was the time Camilla's wannabe cowboy decided to make an appearance for only the second time since Ashes had been taken in. He gave them a strange look before Ashes blew a hole in his gut.

He hit the floor with a dull thud, “Fucking rude.”

“I’m not the one who can’t knock. Were you born in a fucking barn?”

Jonny gave a sputtering laugh as he scooped a handful of intestines back into his abdomen, “Probably, either that or the chicken coop.”

Ashes snorted, the sound surprised them and Jonny grinned.

"Probably made in there too," Jonny continued, not bothering to get up when his stomach healed.

Ashes let out a full body laugh that edged into hysterical. The image of a guy in cowboy boots pushing intestines back into their gut and cracking jokes was unreal. Even after managing to burn down an entire planet.

“Uh, you okay?”

Jonny was standing in front of them now. A look of concern on his face.

Ashes rubbed a hand across their face and realized hot tears were beginning to streak down their cheeks.

They were so tired.

“I’m just-” their breathing hitched but they refused to cry, “I’m just tired. Arson really takes it out of you, ya’ know?”

Jonny’s mouth twisted into a forced smile before he sat down on the bed with them, “This may be over stepping, so go ahead and throw me out if you want but, uh, if you need to sleep, without the nightmares, I might be able to help.”

“Who said anything about nightmares?” Ashes shifted away from him.

Jonny rolled his eyes, “Do you want help or not?”

“What are you gonna do? Shoot me to sleep?”

“No, but Nastya-” Jonny’s ears turned red, “Nastya says that my ‘heartbeat’ always knocks her out. Something about the rhythm being perfectly consistent? It’s just an offer, if you’re not comf-”

“I’d like that,” Ashes said, looking away, “I’m actually not all that used to having my own room and sleeping alone yet. Never had the opportunity even in the Sevens.”

Jonny gave them a small smile before being manhandled into a pile of carefully arranged pillows. His shirt was unceremoniously ripped off in exchange for one of Ashes’ cleaner shirts. (They would not be getting that shirt back)

Ashes gave their set up a hard once over now that there was a cowboy shoved in with their stuffed Charizard before climbing in and resting their body over his.

He wiggled to get an arm free and began to run it carefully through their hair. It didn’t take long before the both of them were asleep.

Ivy Alexandria, Amnesiac Librarian

Everything was too loud and bad . Ivy stumbled through the halls with her hands over her ears in a futile attempt to block it out when the 'it' is her own brain.

She opens her eyes for a moment and instantly regrets it as everything around her seems to shout directly into her mind.

It hurt. Why did it have to hurt?

At some point she managed to find a dark place to wedge herself into and tears are soaking her collar by the time somebody finds her. She can't focus on anything but the metallic whine of her brain and the presence of something loud that she must get away from when a callused hand is suddenly holding her arm and stops the bad feeling there.

She gasps and grabs for the thing (person?) that makes the bad go away, landing in it’s lap. It rumbles something and positions her so her ear is pressed against it.

Ivy wants to fight it and sit up but then she hears something through the whining in her head.

shht tic shht tic shht tic

Hands wind around her shoulders and tangle in the hair at the base of her neck as she begins to relax and start counting the ticks.

_PersonelID [Jonny d'Ville, First Mate]

_MechID [HeartV.3.4]

__ 70 beats per minute

__Operation Efficiency [87%]

_System Notification: Access Granted to [JEVan_HeartCntrlUnit]

_MasterCommandEntry Opened

_[Assisted_SleepCycle] Enabled

_Countdown Begins

_3

_2

_1

_

[martellthemandalor]

Assistance - Chapter 6

Pairing:  Din Djarin x F!Reader (No Y/N, reader is nicknamed)

Warnings: swearing, bombs/explosions, angst

Rating: 15

Word count: 5k+ 

Summary: Mando asks something he shouldn’t and things get explosive.

A/N: this chapter has taken me a while to write but i’m glad i took my time on it, its possibly one of my favourite chapters so far!! As always i love reading your comments and all reblogs help, so don’t be a stranger :))

Masterlist

You awoke to soft light streaming through the cracks in the ceiling, hazy beams of light criss-crossing above your head. The day ahead was going to be another long day of walking and one sided talking, so you were contented to take this moment of rest to watch the dust specks dance lazily in the rays of light. It was only dawn, but the temperature inside the barn had already risen considerably compared the cool temperament of last night.

You rolled onto your side and peered across at the sleeping Tin Can. He was laying stock still on his back, one hand draped across his stomach. The only indication that your companion was still alive was the visibly steady rise and fall of it. You dropped your head back onto the firm stems beneath your body, starting to regret choosing such uneven bedding. A nest seemed so cosy at the time but the uneven lumps of your stack were prominent, even under the thick blankets. You just knew that the minute you tried to get up your body would be stiff and unforgiving.

You lay there a few minutes more, slowly gearing up for the long day ahead. Sighing, you finally gathered the will to move, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and pushing yourself up and out. The second you straightened up you felt it, the tightness across yours muscles in your back and extending into your legs. Well isn’t this just perfect? You glanced at the sleeping pile of Beskar, thankfully his visor was fixed looking straight up.

You let out a quiet breath, thankful he was still asleep. While the flimsy fabric of your base clothes weren’t see through, you were still anxious to get your armour back on before he wakes up. At this rate however that wouldn’t happen unless you sorted out your damn back first.

Keeping an eye on your assistant you lay on your stomach, placed your hands under your shoulders and pushed up against the cold floor, raising just your upper body. Your hips dug uncomfortably into the solid and somewhat cracked surface beneath you, but the instant relief that spread from your spine as it arched back was worth it. Holding there you closed your eyes, letting your breathing shift to natural deep breaths.

Then you rocked backward, letting your legs fold underneath you, hands stretched in front of you. It was the final stretch you needed. You felt your body release all the tension from your back and legs in a long, blissful wave. You rested your forehead against the ground, letting the rough texture press against your soft skin.

There’s always something.

You’ve never been completely relaxed, there’s always been something standing in way. More often than not it was the adrenaline that surged through your veins when hunting, though admittedly you loved the feeling. Sometimes it’s the quiet anxiety that you are being followed or something more physical such as an uncomfortable bed. Even now as you settled completely into this position, the coarse texture beneath you was preventing true relaxation.

The soft clanging of metal against metal drew you out of your mind. You sat back onto your heels and before you even looked in his direction you could feel the usual weight of his stare. 

It was different to you now though, the familiarity behind the pressure of it remained for sure but it was like something had…shifted. You felt even more vulnerable and exposed without your armour than usual and the urge to talk yourself out rose fast, falling back on your only working distraction.

“I should have followed your lead and chosen a bail, my kriffing pile left me stiff.” The words fell carefully from your mouth. A confident tone helping detract attention from the way your brows had pulled together and the extra tension in your limbs. You let your body go through the motions of replacing your armour, talking all the while. “Thank god this dirt ball of a planet has cool nights, I don’t know how I would survive if I had to sleep in the maker-forsaken heat of the day. Did you sleep well? I can’t imagine sleeping in that armour is exactly comfortable.”

You caught yourself there, replaying the events of last night. The images you were trying so hard to repress flew vividly across your mind. How close he was, how wordlessly he helped and how hesitant he was to touch you. How part of you wanted him to do it again. You cleared your throat, pushing the thoughts down. Say something.

“Thank you for last night, I’m sure my back would have been a lot worse if I’d slept with everything on.”

He didn’t stop observing you, not for a moment, just sat there motionless with his visor fixed on you. You managed to replace the last piece of your armour under his unwavering gaze, finally feeling yourself again.

“Your shoulder feeling better then?” He asked simply, helmet tilting somewhat. In all honesty you’d forgotten about the shoulder, it hadn’t hurt during your stretches, but as you probed at it now you could feel the dull pain of it under the plate of armour. You shrugged at him.

“I guess so. I can move it and lift shit apparently, it’s just when I touch it.”

“Don’t touch it then.”

“Ah yes thank you doctor,” You returned, rolling your eyes at him. At a glance you thought you caught his chest and shoulders shaking slightly for a moment. Did he just laugh? You try to meet his stare. The second your eyes met the dark glass of his visor however, his helmet swung away from you, his attention suddenly drawn to his rummaging through his bag. Great. Does he feel it to?

“Anyway, I think there’s only another day and a half’s journey before we reach the quarry, that’s if we keep up the pace of yesterday of course. I’m going to go and ask the owners if we can refill our water from their reserves and you will be taking one of them this time.” You began to pack up your things, folding away blankets and neatly placing your tool kit into your bag.

You talked the whole time, not really caring if he was listening. It was natural to you, speaking into the silence like this. It made things easier, a distraction from whatever menial task you were doing and it wasn’t long before you were packed and ready to leave.

“You ready then?” You asked the Mandalorian, although the answer was clear as Naboo waters. He stood silently stoic by the knotted wooden doors of the barn, pulse rifle and bag secure on his frame.

You had no idea how long he’d been waiting for you, he’d made no attempt to interrupt your chatter and hurry you along. It didn’t surprise you. In fact a part of you preferred it, silence doesn’t cause complications. A curt nod of his helmet offered his confirmation. “Okay, let’s get these pouches filled and we can get off.”

-

The family had been more than happy to let you fill the bladders. They even sent you off with fresh Gratham grain bread, which you thanked them for, along with the kind offer of the barn, with a charming and brightly-smiled façade.

You had waited until you were long out of view of the farm before you let the disarming upturn of your lips drop. Hunger was gnawing it your stomach, a steady and dull ache that only got worse once you remembered there was actual warm bread waiting beneath the wraps of fabric in your hand. Glancing across at the Mandalorian you could see him cradling his own small package, holding it with the same reverence as you in a gentle grip.

You swore you weren’t going to eat until he could. It just wouldn’t be right to make him watch again, but the reverence of that vow was waning. With every passing second you could feel the gentle heat seeping through the bandages and onto your fingertips, fuelling your hunger.

“I bet you’ve seen some weird planets during your hunts. I think the weirdest I’ve seen would have to be Felucia. It’s mostly made up of this awful humid jungle, but the colours of it are just exquisite. The organic life is 90% these various fungi plants, like nothing you’ve ever seen I guarantee,” You said. You were hoping that if you spoke enough it would be a sufficient distraction from the gentle ache in your belly.

“What I really like about it though is what lies deep in the remote areas of the planet. Scattered across the ground and hung from trees are battle remnants from the clone wars itself. Seriously, there were untouched chunks of armour and destroyed weapons everywhere. My quarry had hidden themselves inside the trunk of this big-“

“Why do you do that?” His rough voice suddenly asks, interrupting your spiel. You turned your head to him, only to find he wasn’t even looking at you. His visor was fixed dead ahead, leaving you to watch your own distorted reflection in the dull shine of the helmets beskar.

You clocked your drawn in brows, lips pressed together and wandered when your face had changed so dramatically. You were normally so guarded in your expressions, or so you thought. You needed to fix that. The wrong expression could easily get you killed in this job.

“Why do I do what?” You tilted your head at him slightly, eyes flicking between your reflection, bathed in residual red tones of the world around you, and the path ahead of you.

“You talk a lot, but you never say anything. It’s confusing.” He replied steadily. Still he didn’t look at you.

The Mandalorian was trying to figure you out. Reading people is essential for bounty hunting, know how a person thinks and it’s ten times easier to track them down, predict their next move. It’s also vital for knowing who to trust and who will betray him first chance they get, especially now that the guild are after him. You were perplexing to him, almost impossible to read. Usually someone who talks so much give away at least a little bit of who they are, you however disclose nothing. At all.

You looked away from him. Of course you knew what he meant.

Maker, how could he be so intense without even looking at you?

It was there again, that feeling, and right now it was pulling on something in you to tell him. Actually tell him. What was wrong with you? You hoped it was the steadily rising heat from the unobstructed sun that was making your palms damp and your thoughts swirl like this. Maybe you were getting solarstroke again?

You reached for your water and took a long swig.

You glanced over at him again. This time your eyes were met by the inky pool of his visor. The black of it looked almost soulless in this vicious sunlight, and it took that invisible pressure of his stare to remind you that he was still very much alive under there. Still with you.

Kriffing maker alive.

You sighed, running a hand down your face. Pressing your tongue into your cheek you took another look at the emotionless giant next to you, a breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

“Okay, you really want to know?” You ask, quirking a brow at him.

He nods, the tilt of his helmet catching a particularly bright ray that flashes painfully into your eyes. You squint and blink away the temporary soreness. You’d expected him to have looked away from you again, but as your eyes refocused you saw he still was fixated on your face.

“Talking gives me power, the more I talk the more I can command a room. Talking allows me to change a mind, to intimidate a bounty, to disguise myself from a target. Most simply though? It allows me to be seen,” You run your hand through your hair, beginning to regret opening your mouth this time.

“You can walk into a room, all silent and stoic and every eye will be on you. Everyone will know who you are and remember you by the time you leave,” You throw him a look. Not one of distain or anger, but jealousy. He would never have to work as hard as you for a good reputation, in the guild or anywhere else. “I have to talk my way into being remembered, into having a reputation. One that’s now been stripped off me of course.”

Your eyes drop to the floor and spot a sizeable rock laying a few steps ahead. The second you get close you boot it, watching as it bounced and rolled away from you. “Now as to why I don’t ‘say anything’? To be utterly honest for once, Mandalorian, it’s just easier. Not talking about me makes it easier. Just lying makes it all easier. I can be whoever, whenever. It keeps me safe too; you can’t be predictable when no one knows who you really are.”

A small noise escapes the vocoder of the man next to you. A scoff. The Mandalorian actually just scoffed at you. He’s not looking at you anymore, no, he’s looking straight ahead and shaking his head slightly.

“What?” You scoff back. Your brow quirked at him again, arms coming to cross along your chest.

“Has anything you told me been the truth?” He asked quietly. His hands were fisted at his side, swinging with slightly more vigour than before.

“Everything that just came out of my mouth just now was the truth,” You said carefully, taken more than a little aback at his accusatory tone. You could feel your own frustration starting to bubble in your chest.

“And? Anything before that? What about your name?” He was still quiet, his words were clipped and chosen with care.

Your eyes shot wide open, brows arched high as you blinked at him in disbelief. You slowly uncrossed your arms, hands clenched tight by your sides.

How dare he.

“And the Jawas call the Ewoks short! My name protects me, I chose it, it’s mine, does it really matter if it’s not the one I was given?” You hissed at him, teeth baring as frustration turned to simmering anger, the stifling heat of the planet doing nothing to quell the slow boil of your blood. “I don’t ask your name! I don’t ask to see under your helmet! So do not fucking think for one moment that it is remotely okay to ask the same of me.”

He didn’t say anything to that. The two of you reverted back to what would be tense silence, if it weren’t for your heart knocking against your ribs and the blood rushing in your ears. You were nearly breathless with anger, your throat scratching with each sharp intake of the dry air. You all but ripped your water pouch from its place on your belt and chugged a good few mouthfuls. You unceremoniously wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, harshly clipping the pouch back.

Breathe.

You brought a hand to your chest, trying to ground your highflying emotion as you took a long breath in. You were normally pretty good at keeping a lid on your feelings, but you’d always had particularly short fuse and it take much pressure to spark a spectacular explosion.

Beneath your chest plate your heartrate had slowed considerably, a few minutes of particularly deep breaths later and you were nearly calm again. Nearly. There was a small twinge of guilt eating at your gut that you’d exploded like that. It wasn’t like yours and Tin Can’s situations were really the same. That didn’t mean you were going to apologise though.

Your stomach was the one to break the quietude again, a low rumble emanating from your belly in a reminder that you were, in fact, still hungry. The packaged roll in your clenched fist drew your attention once more. It was still warm, the sun and the heat of your hand seeing to that, the mere sensation of the firm swaddling against your palm making you salivate.

“You should eat.” It was almost inaudible, but by no means unmistakably him. That rough and slightly modulated voice gently directed at you. You didn’t reply, merely gave him a look that roughly translated to a slightly aggressive ‘You need to eat to’. He dismissively waved his hand. “I’ve gone longer without it. I can wait until we settle again.”

That small pang of guilt grew a little as you unwrap the parcel. However, the sweet smell that escaped the binding of the fabric assaulted your nose, overriding any restraint you were going to show. 

You pulled the blue tinted crust of the bread apart with your thumbs, exposing the cloud-like aqua insides. The first bite tasted of pure heaven, the fluffy dough melting across your taste buds as you ate. You groaned at the taste. It had been so long since you’d had fresh bread, let alone a homemade loaf.

You practically inhaled the roll, not stopping to take an actual breath as you ate. As you cleaned the crumbs off your fingers you glanced over at the armoured man next to you. He was seemingly unaffected, nothing betrayed if he was actually hungry, jealous or still angry. That was if he even was angry in the first place.

You turned your attention back your track, the blue line on your eyepiece still blinking steadily in front of your eye. Still no danger, thank the maker.

-

It was like you were numb to time. The Mandalorian and you just continuously trekked on along endless scarlet fields. Where you had initially noticed small differences between each expanse of grass, be it a different set of flora or discoloured bushes, it was now impossible for you to distinguish them. The only thing that really alerted you to the passage of time was the stark sun, crawling its way across the sky and steadily raising the temperature of the planet below.

You used the cloth left from your small breakfast to wipe away the sweat that was once again pooling uncomfortably at your brow. You couldn’t bear this anymore. How was it possibly even hotter than yesterday?

“Stop,” You command, freezing where you stood. It took the Mandalorian a couple of steps to register what you had said, but once it had gone in he turned on his heel to face you. He saw you tapping commands into your gauntlet, and then pressing a button on the side of your headset. You were looking around, but your eyes only flickered over where he stood, as if you couldn’t even see him. It made him want to speak, to move, anything to make your gaze linger a little longer.

You were trying to reroute the two of you, hopefully through a forest or a village, so you could get out of this murderous sun. You nearly cried when nothing picked up on your scan.

“What are you doing?” He asked, walking back up to you, his cape billowing behind him.

“I’m basically dying in this heat, so I’m trying to find some shade,” You said sharply, eyes staying on your gauntlet. You tap into the control panel on your arm, extending the search range in a vain attempt to find some structures. You turn your head to track the scan. As you slowly surveyed the land you all but gave up hope. 

It was in the exact moment you did however, a small blip showed in the distance. The corners of your mouth turned up into a hopeful smile, eyes coming alive with a glint as you tapped at your gauntlet once more. The image on your eyepiece zoomed in and enhanced. 

You almost wept with joy when it displayed a series of, from the looks of things, stone ruins. They would definitely have plenty of shade, and hopefully wouldn’t have any people to pester you either.

Locking in the new route you looked up at the Mandalorian, the second your eyes met the silver of his helmet your smile dropped from your face. The blue line in your eye jumped position and you wasted no time in striding in its new direction. You didn’t offer as much as a ‘come on’ in the direction of your assistant, just walked away. You knew he’d follow. And follow he did.

It took another three hours of walking, though it felt more like a full day of it, before you were met with the delicious sight of crumbling stonework. The place was definitely abandoned and had been for a long time, that much was obvious from the ribbons of grass that had fought its way through the cobbles beneath your feet. The path looked as if it had been slashed, open wounds of crimson tones where the growths of grass had forced the once sturdy slabs apart. The buildings weren’t much better, worn rocks of the walls now crumbling away and leaving gaping holes and vulnerabilities where once there had been safety.

You continued following the uneven path, the winding and disjointed stones beneath you drawing you further into the centre of chaos. Looking around you deduced this must have been a village at some point. The clusters of smaller, somewhat sturdier to judging by their better state, buildings must have been houses and the bigger ruins had to have been some form of communal spaces.

You could almost feel the life this place once had, the people moving around and talking, baskets of gratham stems and other goods in hand, trading for clothes and tools, maybe the occasional game for the little ones. It was so familiar and yet, so distant.

The way the walls of the bigger buildings had caved in had left arching tendrils of dusty stone, beckoning arms that begged you to walk towards them, to peer into the depths of the rooms they guarded. While your interest was piqued with finding what lay within the wayward walls, you were more fascinated with discovering what lay at the centre of the village. So much so that you hadn’t even noticed that the Mandalorian wasn’t following you anymore.

He’d been close by your side since you entered the village. That was until a small yellow frog almost jumped under his boot. He froze, initially it was from not wanting to crush the little thing, but that quickly melted into missing the kid. The guilt that had faded from your earlier argument surged to the front of his mind with renewed vigour, fresh with worry that he’d felt when left the child alone with a stranger. Sure she looked kind and the place had been busy with other children for the kid to play with, he’d also payed out a handsome fee to her for the trouble.

All that however didn’t stop the nagging feeling that someone was going to find him. The last time he’d left them alone Calican had got to them and- maker alive- they nearly got taken from him. And so down the spiral he fell, with the Mandalorian slowly following the darting yellow jumper, stalking it the way the kid would be if they were there.

You could see the village core, a sizeable round plaza, with paths stretching off at five regular points. You’d abandoned caution when you had entered the stoned space, the shadows of the ruins providing much needed relief that caused you to drop your guard. 

Rookie kriffing mistake. 

You should have seen it. You should have noticed the way these slabs were sitting just a little above the ground, the fact that they were paler than the rest, or just the fact that the circle of stones seemed perfectly preserved. No growths, no wear and no tracks.

One foot crossed the threshold, and your whole body tensed as you felt the stone sink slowly into the dirt. Kriff. The familiar rhythmic beeping of alert overrode your senses, blinking red lights scattered your eyepiece as you looked down.

Your reaction was instant, every nerve you have firing as adrenaline spiked through your veins. You snapped around. No time wasted as you took off from the plaza. Feet pounding against the mottled path, each push giving you more and more momentum. You tried desperately to keep your breathing steady as your heart hammered in your chest. You could hear the ground breaking up behind you. Great cracking and thundering crashes as rock collided with rock. The sound snapped you out of your laser focus to one gut wrenching realisation. He wasn’t with you.

You forced yourself not to stop, not to yell out just yet. Just keep sprinting. Your eyes darted as your legs carried you at speed, head snapping from side to side as you peered into wrecked buildings and alleyways. Tears were beginning to prick at your eyes from the effort of keeping them open in the dry heat, blurring your invaluable vision. Sweat dripped down your face. A sheen of it forming over your body from exertion. Your lungs were screaming at you, begging for respite. The pain of it was almost enough to make you give in.

“SHIRYN?”

His voice carried through the ruins to greet your straining ears. The mere sound sharpened your senses, head jerking in the direction of the sound. You were vaguely aware of a new sound too. Thrusters, very small but undoubtedly powerful thrusters. The realisation of what was about to happen hit you as your caped assistant ran into view. He was right there. Just a few more paces in front of you. The new serpentile hissing at your back spurred you towards the Mandalorian’s shine, his helmet tilted towards the expanse above your head.

“MANDO!” You screamed at him.

Time seemed to slow around you, your goal making everything else fade away. You felt the shocks of the first impact rippling beneath your feet, it didn’t matter though because he was within your grasp, just one step away. Your arms reached out to him.

You nearly collided with him. Hands grasping at his pauldrons and pulling him with you. You hauled him, with all your strength, into the house on your left, throwing him to the ground once you were through the threshold. You fell on top of him, curling your body instinctively around his, legs tight around his hips, arms either side of his head, your own head cradled in the space between his shoulder and helmet, pinning his body beneath yours.

The explosions started milliseconds after you hit the ground. The sheer volume of each impact made your ears feel like they were about to bleed and the floor beneath you shook violently. Heat from the each detonation licked through door and fanned out across your clothes, making you sweat even heavier under the already sticky fabric.

Your eyes were screwed tight shut. Every muscle in your body constricted tighter with each wash of heat, your pulse thrumming in your ear. Any hope of controlling your breathing was abandoned as you shakily panted. Inhaling the thick smoky air in a vain attempt to draw in sweet, sweet oxygen. You tried to draw yourself away from destruction that was happening right outside the stone walls, to let yourself drown in the sound of your own heartbeat, of the feeling of Mando’s cold beskar pressed against the side of your face. You were so wrapped in distracting yourself you didn’t notice the firm grip of his arms circling your waist. Anchoring you to him.

Rocks were beginning to fall around you, the once sturdy structure beginning to fail its purpose. Your grip on the Mandalorian beneath you tightened as stones fractured across the floor, each collision making you flinch slightly. You were bracing for an inevitable impact when you felt your whole world shift dramatically, your body being rolled beneath a substantial weight. You expected to hit the ground hard, but your impact was softened by a pair of arms, one secured under your back and the other cradling the back of your head. Holding you to him.

Your hands grasped at him blindly until you found purchase on his arms, fingers digging into the rough fabric of his sleeves. Tentatively, you opened your eyes. You had expected to see the slowly collapsing ceiling, but your view was thankfully obstructed by Mando’s chest plate. Right as the two of you settled into this new position, a hefty chunk of stone hit the ground where you had been mere moments before.

It felt like an age before the sounds of chaos outside the safety of the building began to fade, the time between explosions lengthening exponentially. Even the house you’d dove into seemed to be stabilising, the rock-fall slowing as the tremors of the floor began to cease. You found yourself calming down, your body relaxing a little as you managed to take regular strong breaths, or as much as you could do at least in the unrelenting hold of Mando.

A few more drawn out minutes passed before the attack seemed to cease completely. Still though, you stayed encased in each other’s grip, anxiously listening for any stray detonations. You both seemed to come to the conclusion that it was over at the same time, your grip on his arms loosening as he released your head, lowering it gently to the now rubble filled floor.

Using his free arm he pushed up from you, but made no effort to retract his other arm or roll off you. Instead, he looked down at you, your skin glistening with sweat and hair wild beneath him. He watched your eyes with intent, curious as they darted around the room before settling back on his visor. You’d called him Mando. He was replaying that fleeting moment over and over as he looked at you, praying to the maker that you wouldn’t go back to referring to him as Mandalorian. His heart kicked up a notch when you cocked your brow at him, the miniscule change in your expression dragging him from his thoughts to the realisation that he was still pressed close against you. The last time he had felt anything like this was back on Sorgan, but here… kriffing hell he wished he knew what you were thinking right now.

Your eyes flitted between where you thought his own lay behind the visor, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. Being this close to him you could hear his breathing through his vocoder, hell you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your own. Part of you was yelling to get away, scramble from the precipice you just knew you were teetering on, and do not fall in. Yet a different part wanted to stay, to lean in and press your forehead against his the smooth surface of his helmet.

You swallowed. Hands releasing his biceps, you trailed your fingertips with a feather light touch across his shoulders to land on his chest plate.

Then you turned your head away from him, choosing to look at a crumbling wall instead of his visor as you lightly pushed him away.

Mando took the hint. He carefully extracted his arm from under you and rolled off, landing with a solid thud to the side of you. You wasted no time in sitting up and beginning to search yourself for injuries, sighing in relief when you found none.

He hadn’t been so lucky. It didn’t even register with him that he had been wounded, not until pain spiked up his leg at his attempt to sit up. The soft grunt that escaped him alerted you almost instantly.

“Mando, what’s wrong?” You asked sternly. Turning to face him you scanned over his figure, seizing up when you saw the tell-tale scarlet stain slowly darkening at his inner thigh, just above his knee. Shit. You shot to his side, hands working on removing his cuisse.

“Shiryn, it’s noth-“

“I get to decide when it’s nothing,” You snapped. Your tone probably came off sharp and abrasive, but you didn’t care. There was only one thought running circles round your mind right now. That this? This was entirely your fault.

[siribear]

shame begins to set in as they walk back to the father and son’s farm. alice leads the way, seemingly undisturbed, but danse - he thought himself better. in control. he clenches and unclenches his fists, remembering the weight of every impact - remembering alice having to stop him. that thread of anger -

‘you’re brooding back there, i can tell,’ she says, a smile in her voice. when she turns to look at him over her shoulder, he sees it in full. no condemnation, just gentle chiding.

‘i’m not brooding.’

she turns again to look ahead, and he catches the tail end of a grin. ‘okay. you’re thinking so loudly that i can hear you.’

‘what am i thinking, then?’ he asks, humoring her.

she stops in her tracks, the farm just across the street. outside, the father and son are already working the land. ‘you’re beating yourself up as much as you beat up that feral.’ a pause. ‘sorry. i know it’s bothering you.’

danse grunts. ‘i acted out. it was unbecoming.’

alice rolls her eyes. ‘unbecoming. that feral would have killed us without second thought. it’s not like - it’s not like it was a person with conscious thought.’ a shadow crosses her eyes, gone with a blink. ‘if it makes you feel better, i won’t tell maxson. i’m great at keeping secrets.’

he bows his head. perhaps she’s right. ridiculous that he should be so upset about this. he tells her as much.

‘of course i’m right. it was either it or us. i’m rather happy with the current outcome.’ her gaze shifts to her feet, then up again. ‘thank you, by the way. for joining me back there. i wouldn’t have made it without you.’ she turns on her heel without waiting for a response.

danse gives her one anyway. ‘i wouldn’t abandon a fellow soldier.’

alice catches the eye of the son across the way and waves. he waves back, and before she begins her jog over to him, she gives him a curious look. not pleased; the smile wasn’t as bright. brow furrowed, half smile. a reluctant acceptance? of what, he’s not sure.

instead of even attempting to decode the expression, danse busies himself with maintenance on his armor. the ghouls left scratches across his armor, superficial but numerous. the integrity of the plate hasn’t been damaged as much as the paint job. danse can’t complain. not when - he looks to alice again, talking with the father. she would have faced it alone for them.

like this lost patrol they’ve been following.

he’s tightening the joints in one of the hands when alice returns. ‘what did he say?’

she grins, then. ‘if you have to report back, you can tell maxson that isaiah and junior at county crossing have joined the minutemen. we should get moving. the satellite array is still a long way from here.’

danse nods and steps into his power armor. ‘congratulations. what are you going to do with them?’

‘help them get back on their feet.’

it surprises him. ‘that’s all?’

she shrugs a shoulder. ‘and now that i have their undying loyalty, i’ll have them join my army to take over the rest of the commonwealth. obviously.’

‘obviously,’ danse repeats, deadpan. ‘the brotherhood aren’t your enemy, alice. we both want the same thing here.’

‘and when the institute is gone? what then? maxson will leave me and mine alone?’

danse takes a breath. ‘the elder - ‘

‘has his own plans here, i’m sure. i’m not going to argue with you about this, paladin.’ danse notes the title. ‘let’s find the rest of this team.’

‘of course, general.’

-

days later, they reach it, and the revere satellite array is unrecognizable. much like faneuil hall, it’s covered in blood and gore. nets filled with bones and body parts hang from the satellite dishes and wooden walkways constructed around them. whisper listens to the steady beep of the distress signal through her pipboy speaker, turning it off when a super mutant wanders near their position on the outskirts of the array.

‘faris made it out,’ whisper hopes aloud. ‘he met up with paladin brandis and they’re at the holdout.’

the paladin grunts and stands. ‘his distress pulser is still active.’

‘no time to turn it off in the retreat,’ she offers. anything to bypass the group of super mutants, ten strong, standing between them and their next clue. what she wouldn’t give now for artillery.

shit.

‘well, paladin? any ideas?’

‘one by one,’ he says, stepping around her. ‘i’ll draw their attention, you pick them off.’

‘like before.’

he clicks his helmet in place and turns to her with a nod. ‘like before. stay behind me.’

she pulls out her sniper rifle and follows him through the scope. he steps through a gap in the chain-link fence, fully entering super mutant territory. a mutant hound far to his left lifts its head and sniffs the air, keying in immediately on the change in the air. its owner pays the hound no mind, letting it move on ahead.

whisper shifts down to her stomach, stabilizing the barrel of her rifle on a root. the hound stalks closer. danse continues to edge forward, almost rounding the corner of an abandoned rv. the hound spots the paladin, jaw opening to bark a warning, but whisper silences it - two shots into its neck and one to its skull. it falls heavily on the ground behind danse, who motions slightly.

it doesn’t alert the other super mutants, thankfully. okay. she scans the rest of the grounds - no more mutant hounds. some of the super mutants speak to each other in broken sentences. deep, gravelly voices mocking each other or laughing at ‘stupid humans.’

there’s no way for her to warn danse when he approaches one satellite tower just as a super mutant descends the stairs. if only they had radios, or - whisper rises to a kneel and fires at the ground near danse’s feet. he looks down to where the bullet hit, then up to the stairs, and manages to pull back to cover just as the super mutant spots him.

‘human! here!’ it roars, loud enough for her to hear it from her position.

it’s not like fighting the ghouls, who rush them without thinking. super mutants from the other towers fire down at danse, effectively pinning him behind the leg of a tower. whisper focuses on those, picking off two super mutants on one tower before the others turn their attention toward her.

with no cover other than the thin bushes in front of her, whisper ducks down and rushes toward the rv on the other side of the fence, almost sliding down the hill. one more super mutant goes down with a loud cry. seven more.

whisper turns the corner of the rv opposite danse and takes potshots at another super mutant rushing down the stairs of the tower. deliverer hardly seems to do any damage. the mutant shrugs off her shots to its legs as it stomps her way. a shotgun blast roars past her head when she peeks back around. holstering the pistol, she pulls out righteous authority and levels into the approaching mutant. six left, she counts when her target turns to ash and scatters in the wind.

five, when danse shoves one off a tower and it doesn’t get back up.

four: she watches danse grapple with another, the aged, metal catwalk barely holding under their combined weight. one shot through the neck, and it’s down.

she doesn’t get a chance to see his nod of thanks before she’s tossed back into the rv, landing on the hood and rolling over.

‘alice!’ and then the sound of laser fire. whisper picks herself up with a groan, blinking away the tears in her eyes. it’s hurt worse, she tells herself. the broken arm, the radiation poisoning, the - 

she’s picked up again, lifted easily by the green hand closed around her throat. her kicks fall short, and all she can think is that the damn super mutant is smarter than barnes when he grabbed her. it slams her against the side of the rv, taking away what little breath she has left. the corners of her vision go black, the tips of her fingers brush against deliverer and she thinks she can grab it until she hits the rv again.

her next gasp for air is so sudden it hurts more than being tossed to the ground again. the mutant lands next to her, danse standing over it, but she pulls out deliverer and kills it before he can.

‘are you - ‘

‘i’m fine,’ she croaks. ‘th-three more?’

‘just one,’ he says, breathing heavily. he kneels and extends a hand to help her up. ‘up in one of the towers - ‘

whisper knows exactly which one when it steps out, a heavy weapon over its shoulder. this time, there really is no way to warn him, but she tries, god, she tries, using what little strength she can to pull him sideways -

they land feet away from the impact of the missile, whisper laid out on the ground, her arm at an awkward angle. broken. again. ‘d-danse,’ she wheezes. ‘danse?’

‘here,’ he answers after a moment, somewhere to her left. ‘it,’ he gasps, catches his breath as he rises, ‘it doesn’t have an angle on us, for now.’

he’s right. miraculously, the blast knocked them just out of sight of the super mutant’s tower. ‘it’s just one. we can - we can get it.’

danse looks down at her. ‘i can. just - wait here. your arm.’

her pip boy screen blinks in an out. it’s more than just her arm. but still she leans over, uses her other arm to sit upright. ‘that thing’s got a fucking rocket launcher. power armor or not, you’re not going to survive if it actually hits you.’ though muffled through his helmet, she hears the warning alarms of his power armor. ‘can’t let you go at it alone,’ she says, using her good arm to brace herself against danse.

‘fine. but i’m still the distraction, not you.’ she can almost hear the glare. ‘can you shoot with one arm?’

said arm jams a stimpak into her leg. it stings, but at least she feels like she can walk. ‘i’ve got you covered.’ 

‘coming for you,’ comes a growl, too close for comfort.

‘go,’ she hisses, drawing deliverer and holding it close.

danse circles around the opposite way, making as much noise as he can. whisper listens as heavy footsteps just around the tower turn around. she waits, resolves to a count of ten before she’ll round the corner. changes it to five when the footsteps pull further away. she edges out, watches as danse attempts to cross the field.

too slow - the rocket fires, deafening in its closeness, exploding behind danse. not as near as the first shot, but enough to stagger him. he can’t recover quick enough before the super mutant begins to reload.

fuck it. she abandons deliverer, draws another gun, bigger. one that’ll fucking hurt with one hand but it’s all she has. whisper draws up close, presses the barrel of kellogg’s pistol against the base of the mutant’s skull, and pulls the trigger.

-

danse finds her near where he left her, at the base of the tower, just beyond the corpse of the last super mutant. he knew her arm was broken, but - ‘what did you do?’

alice lifts her head, jaw clenched tight. ‘can you question me after a stimpak? please?’

he steps out of his power armor and grabs his own bag in one motion. instead of a stimpak, he pulls out a line of tubing, a needle, and a bag of med-x. ‘stay still,’ he orders, though he doesn’t have to. woman just blew off the head of a super mutant with a magnum. he’s surprised her wrist is as intact as it is.

the med-x hits her almost immediately, and she sighs with relief. he sets her arm and injects a stimpak before the pain can overpower the med-x. then a second, for good measure. he begins to do the same with her blown out wrist, and danse tries to ignore that she’s watching him, quietly.

‘you never answered my question.’ almost quietly.

‘which one?’ because she has asked a few, even in their short time together.

her head lolls to the side, but she keeps her eyes on him. he glances aside only long enough to inject the first stimpak in her wrist. ‘why did you join the brotherhood?’

he sighs and uses another stimpak before taking a seat beside her. he’s sore; he knows he’ll have bruises from this, but nothing compared to her injuries. she shifts next to him, her head against his shoulder. ‘stay awake,’ he says, still not entirely sure she doesn’t have a concussion. he feels her exhale heavily, but her eyes remain open, staring straight ahead.

‘i was born in the capital wasteland,’ he says when he notices her eyes closing. she hums in acknowledgement; he continues, ‘scavenged where i could, what i could. sold what i found in rivet city until i could open my own shop.

‘i met a man named cutler. we survived by trading in the city.’

a laugh rumbles out of his chest when he remembers some of the old things cutler used to keep. refused to sell, even if it would net them a handful of caps, just because he thought they were interesting. phones he’d use to pretend to call danse; movie reels he’d make up the stories for because he said he could make out the pictures; a photo frame he’d kept because he could barely read the word family engraved on it.

he tells her these things, and he feels her knuckles brush against the back of his hand. ‘what happened then?’

danse swallows. ‘we joined the brotherhood when they came recruiting.’ cutler sold his small treasures for extra caps; everything but that frame. he carried it with him, and eventually it found a spot on his side table on the prydwen for a year. it sat empty, until one of the younger scribes drew a picture of them: two bulky stick figures labeled with their names and an oval floating in the background. family.

‘only a year?’ she urges.

danse has talked about cutler before, to one of the prydwen’s doctors, to work through his grief. but not like this. he realizes she only asked why he joined the brotherhood, but cutler is - was - too important a reason to just skip over. it’s been so long since he’s just remembered the man, not the soldier he failed to save.

‘cutler went missing. we weren’t always given the same assignment, but it was never long before we returned. but this time, he - his entire squad hadn’t reported in when they were supposed to.’  danse remembers the initial news. the murmurs on the prydwen, the worry he felt. how he threw himself into the search for three weeks, scoured the land for what little scraps of information he could find. how, at the end of his search, they found an entire hive of super mutants. and cutler - he remembers cutler.

‘he was exposed to the virus - ‘ at her confused look, ‘the forced evolutionary virus. it... creates super mutants.’ this time, she intertwines their fingers, and he lets her. ‘they changed him. he wasn’t cutler anymore, so i... killed him.’

alice moves her head away from his shoulder to look at him. ‘i’m sorry, danse.’ she squeezes his hand and, without thinking, he returns it.

comfort.

danse pulls away and stands, rolling his aching shoulders. he helps her to her feet, slowly, and watches as she flexes her hands. ‘we should find scribe faris.’ she turns on the station for the distress pulser; the steady beeping indicating that scribe faris is likely in the cabin just overhead. with any luck, he’s only dead.

[britonell]

Hello @clearwillow. Do you know how difficult it was to keep my mouth shut about being your @inusecretsanta​!?

Anywho, don’t skip the fanfic below!

Hermit’s Haven

In which one dog leads to a hermit failing to be a hermit…

...this is not my biography >.>

The dog appeared out of nowhere.

Inuyasha stared at the unexpected visitor. Against the backdrop of the untouched snow, the Akita stood out like a sore thumb.

The dog certainly didn’t belong to anyone in the village—since he was the sole inhabitant of said village. His closest ‘neighbor’ was an agricultural school on the other side of the mountain, and they weren’t the type to let a dog wander off their property.

Inuyasha watched the Akita sniff the icy bridge and then raise his head, ears perked up and beady eyes examining the half-demon, before throwing all caution to the wind and trotting up to him.

That was how the solitary half-demon ended up with a dog in his house. A dog that was currently taking up Inuyasha’s favorite spot beside the kotatsu, paws up in the air, not a care in the world.

For Inuyasha, this was odd. He wasn’t one to raise pets. He didn’t even own fish (which was why there was an empty koi pond in his backyard). He was an honest-to-goodness hermit.

Not that he had always been like this. After his father’s funeral, Izayoi and Inuyasha had been left instructions on when and how to sell some land in Hokkaido. Then the economic bubble burst happened and the land in the north ended up being their refuge.

Izayoi hadn’t been hurting for money or anything, no, she had plenty from her own inheritance. Inuyasha didn’t like to think about it much; throw in some economic woes and suddenly every city folk in Tokyo was ornery, so much so the half-breed child running around their apartment complex was now an eyesore.

The village was different. They had always been self-sufficient in their isolated community. Besides, as descendants of the Ainu people, they had their own history of being marginalized. He and Izayoi had been informed rather bluntly that they’d be welcomed as long as they didn’t get in anyone’s way—and if Inuyasha could quickly learn to ‘chase those pesky bears away’ that would be super helpful.

It all worked, for a while anyway. 

The damn dog startled awake and stared at Inuyasha, who snorted. Nothing woke the dog up except his own loud snoring.

Right. What to do with the dog. He had to be someone’s pet. Had he been abandoned? The agricultural school regularly dealt with people throwing their trash and animals on their land, but in this village? With all this snow, no one would come this far to leave an unwanted pet.

So the dog somehow wandered all the way out here. Wonderful.

Maybe the dog was chipped. He could ask Kaede at the school. The villagers had trusted her, and she did attend the funerals whenever she could. Wait, she was a veterinary instructor for only the first half of the school year. She wouldn’t be back in Hokkaido for months.

And he wasn’t going to risk visiting another vet, since…

“Guess you’re staying for a few days,” Inuyasha grumbled. 

The dog’s response was a great, big yawn.

A few days did pass. Then a few weeks. Then a few months.

They built something of a routine. Inuyasha would go out to forage and hunt, and the dog would patiently wait for him in the village. He took to calling the dog Hachi because...because he damn well felt like it, shut up. He even thought about buying some dog food in that resort town, but Hachi seemed to enjoy the game meat. That was fine. Hopefully.

It all worked, for a while anyway.

“Hachi?” Inuyasha called. Where was that damn dog? Hachi always welcomed him at the bridge next to his house. That used to bother him, since half the bridge hadn’t been refurbished to narrow the gaps between the railings, but with the ice gone he all but expected to see Hachi at the bridge, wagging his bushy tail with his stupid tongue out.

“Hachi! Hachi!” Inuyasha wasn’t panicking. He was being thorough, that’s why he was slamming the sliding doors open and entering his old neighbors’ homes. He would personally apologize to their graves later.

He found Hachi in the fifth house. Aiko used to own a Shiba Inu that she babied like her own grandchild. He cursed himself for forgetting the doggie door disguised as a tiny sliding door—he had helped her install it!

Hachi was in the bathroom, lying on his side, breathing labored and legs twitching.

There was no decision to make. Coherent thought didn’t even return until he was halfway to his destination, leaping from branch to branch with Hachi cradled in his arms.

The veterinary clinic was the first building next to the south entrance. Inuyasha shot past a group of shocked students, kicking up clouds of fallen Sakura petals, and burst into the clinic. 

Kaede wasn’t sitting at the front desk.

“Fuck.”

“Over here.”

A man with hair bound in a rat tail was holding out his hands. To his credit, his eyes were focused on Hachi and not on Inuyasha. The latter surrendered the barely conscious Akita and watched the man rush past some of the confused students and into one of the rooms.

Inuyasha stood in the lobby for a good long while, his mind too scrambled to decipher the whispers. But if he was capable of observation, he would understand; a dog-eared man had just shown up with a half-dead dog in a clinic that usually catered to farm animals. His fault for not wearing a hat.

There was a loud shush that sent a couple of people out of the lobby, then a small hand offered him a cup of water.

“Please, have a seat.”

He was ushered to an empty seat where he stayed until he was the only one in the lobby, staring at the cup until the man with the rat tail walked up to him with a clipboard.

“Yamaguchi Inuyasha, right?” The man smiled, wearing no mask of pretense. “My name is Miroku. Kaede-baa-san’s my great aunt. She told us about how you helped her prepare our clinic and barn for the typhoon. Don’t mind the students, they’re first-years. I’ll make sure to have a word with them.”

Inuyasha didn’t really understand what he was saying, half the words going in one dog ear and out the other, he just wanted to know—“How’s the dog?”

“He’s stable,” oh thank fuck, “but he needs to stay with us for a few days.” Oh fuck no.

“What happened to him?” He gripped the cup a tad too tightly.

“I was hoping you could fill in the details. Did you see him collapse?”

Somehow, talking about Hachi made it easier to get the words out. “No, I was out. He snuck into one of the houses in the village. The house had a goddamn doggie door, I fucking forgot about it, and he was in the bathroom and he was—fuck, that old woman was on a lot of drugs before she—oh fuck the medicine cabinet was open, you think he could’ve reached—fuck, he must’ve gotten into some of her meds. Fuck!”

Miroku scribbled away, unfazed by the cursing. “It’s alright, I understand. We’ll run a few more tests. What’s his name?”

And there it was. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he began, “His...I don’t really…”

Miroku politely waited.

“He’s not my dog. I was gonna ask Kaede to scan him for a chip. I can still pay for the treatments.”

“Kaede won’t be here for another month, and she’ll return only as an advisor. I took over her position beginning this school year. If you don’t mind, I can go ahead and check for a chip.”

“Sure. Yeah, that’s fine.” It wasn’t.

“In regards to payment—”

“I can pay.”

“—there’s an account set up under the name of Yamaguchi Izayoi for the farm produce department. Ordinarily, any unused funds are forfeited at the end of the year, but I noticed an exception was made...seven times. If you’d like, we can use this account for payment?”

Inuyasha had to take a minute or two to pick his jaw up off the floor. “That’s…fine.”

“Great. We’ll use the phone number attached to the account to contact you.”

Inuyasha left the clinic with a lot of questions and nobody to ask them. He immediately busied himself back in the village, tidying the houses he broke into, visiting and apologizing to the graves of his neighbors, raking the flower petals into piles, anything to keep his mind off of Hachi. He thought about visiting the clinic, but he didn’t want to risk exciting Hachi and setting back his recovery. 

Not to mention the heavy sense of guilt that prevented him from seeing Hachi again.

A week after Hachi’s collapse his phone rang.

“Yamaguchi-san?” It was the same voice that directed him to sit in the clinic.

“Uh. Yeah.” No one had ever called him with that honorific. Ever.

“We’re happy to report that your dog is awake and alert.” Thank fucking god. “We…” he did not like that pause, “...also scanned for a chip and managed to contact his owners.” Oh. “We told them what happened, and they’re driving from Sapporo to pick him up.” How the hell did Hachi make it to the village all the way from Sapporo? “They would like to personally thank you for finding and taking—”

“No,” Inuyasha growled, then remembered to add, “thanks. Just let them know I’m paying.” 

“I know this is a little unorthodox, but they’re good people, I think you’ll like—”

He hung up.

He would go back to his routine. He would forget about Hachi. He would go back to being alone.

~*~

Little did Inuyasha know, Hachi had opened the proverbial floodgates and there was no stopping the invasion.

“Hello?” Inuyasha answered slowly. No one called him save for the automated bank calls, and he was damn sure no bank would program a call for the middle of the night.

“Listen, just hear me out before you hang up,” a familiar feminine voice spoke, tones clipped this time. “Someone dumped a litter of newborn puppies by the front entrance.”

“Wow. Asshole,” he said without thinking.

“I know! But most of the staff just left for summer break, we’re in the middle of breaking ground for a new research building and no one has the space and time. I mean, I’d foster them but my roommate already has a cat and there’s a one pet rule in my building. The nearest shelters are miles away and completely full. Miroku thinks the best option is to volunteer you for the job.”

“Oh...that’s…” He really should refuse. He was being volun-told by a stranger. “When should I pick them up?” Dammit.

“That’s the thing. Miroku’s already packed and ready to go. He’s going to drive up to your village ASAP.”

“I...umm…”

“I’m so sorry. I think Kaede-baa-san talked about you so much, it’s hard for us not to trust you, you know?”

“That’s...wait, did you say Kaede-baa—”

She hung up.

Fuck, she did that on purpose.

Less than an hour later, a pickup truck parked in front of the bridge. Inuyasha watched from his door, a strange mixture of anticipation and alarm twisting his stomach.

Miroku stepped out of the driver’s side and from the passenger’s side...Kikyo?

No, no, that’s not possible. Kaede’s granddaughter stopped dropping by with Kaede after he adamantly refused to move out of the village. He had been smitten, sure, but it was a teenage crush and this was his land, his, and she wanted a normal life, which most certainly meant not living in seclusion. Last he heard, she was studying to be a lawyer in Kyoto.

Miroku said something to the woman and she responded by smacking him upside the head. Nope, definitely not Kikyo.

“Thanks for doing this,” Miroku said once Inuyasha met them at the end of the bridge. He held up a box and inside there were five squirming black and white puppies. 

Inuyasha clamped his mouth shut. He was still upset at being volunteered against his will, yes he was.

Miroku held the box out, only to turn and hand it to the woman beside him. “You sure you got this?”

“As if I would’ve agreed to this if I wasn’t,” the woman said with the same clipped tones. Guess she was the woman on the phone. “C’mon, we need to get inside before the rain starts.”

Miroku shrugged, smiling all the same. “Alright, I’ll get the supplies from the back. Inuyasha, help me carry those in, and then I’ll be on my way.”

It was only after he dropped the last of the supplies in his living room and watched the pickup drive away in the rain did he notice one crucial detail. “Are you staying?”

The woman looked up from his favorite spot beside the kotatsu, a puppy in each hand. Inuyasha was pretty sure she was trying to look more innocent than she was. “It’s not like you know how to raise puppies. Name’s Kagome, by the way. Miroku’s my cousin, and I’m volunteering at the clinic this year. Could you get the formula? It’s time to feed the puppies.”

Well fuck.

There were five puppies and a human woman in his house. A proper hermit would kick them out and leave them out in the rain. 

He went to fetch the supplies. 

He was a terrible hermit.

“Newborn puppies need to be fed every two hours. At least.”

Inuyasha did not know this. He now knew this.

The half-demon could manage a solid week without sleep, but Kagome insisted she be awake to supervise the feeding so she readied an infuriatingly loud alarm clock and boy did he want to smash it into pieces. Then the puppies would whine and he was too distracted to stay angry.

So busy were they Inuyasha didn’t even realize they had made no proper sleeping arrangements until well after dawn. Then the puppies would whine and he was too distracted to ask Kagome.

On the third night, he returned from the bath to find Kagome sleeping in the living room sans alarm clock, presumably packed away, never to be seen again. The realization that she trusted him to feed the puppies hit him hard. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, the villagers had trusted him, but that had been years ago and the nostalgia…hurt. To top it all off, she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his house. 

The vulnerability in her unguarded expression went straight to his gut. He pondered what that meant, but then the puppies squirming around her whined and he was too distracted to ponder further.

Between the feedings, Kagome would divulge a few things about herself: She lived on a shrine in Tokyo (oh god a city girl), she took some time off after high school to work at the shrine and think about what she wanted to do with her life (now that was unusual for a Tokyo girl), she came to Hokkaido at Kaede’s suggestion (what an impulsive girl), and she could tell he was weirded out by all this from looking at his expression (uh...no, no he wasn’t).

After the seventh day, she slyly slid up to him with cell phone in hand. “You know, there’s someone who really wanted to thank you.”

“Huh?” he replied, still wiping a puppy’s paw.

She shoved the phone in his face before he could protest and there he was, wagging his bushy tail with his stupid tongue out.

“Thank you for finding our Hachi!” A little boy with a front tooth missing waved. “Grandpa and I missed him lots!”

“Thank you for keeping him safe all this time. Please drop by so we can thank you in person,” an elderly man said while bowing, a wrinkly hand holding onto a small cane.

“Yeah, I’m gonna give you my treasure! It’s a snake skin!” The little boy waved one last time before the recording stopped.

Inuyasha tried to say something, he really did. Yet the image of the elderly man with the cane shakily bowing stayed in his mind. He was too, too, too much like his late neighbors.

And holy shit the dog was named Hachi all along! Seems like he wasn’t the only uncreative pet namer in Japan.

Kagome’s warm, gentle hand pulled him out of his stupor. “C’mon, it’s feeding time.”

Of course, the puppies. Get the formula, use the dropper, get the paper towels, and repeat. This was a distraction, this was good. He just needed to think about the puppies. Formula, dropper, paper, repeat. Maybe close his eyes for a bit.

He fell asleep.

He, the damn half-demon, fell asleep.

Worse, he woke up with puppies pulling on his hair and a camera flash going off.

“Look, don’t we look adorable?” she said and flipped the camera phone to show him the photo. There he was, looking up at the camera half-awake with his hair splayed out on the tatami. Kagome was also looking up in the photo, opposite him and upside down, giving the camera a deceptively demure smile, her black hair similarly splayed out and over his silver hair. All over their contrasting hair, the black and white puppies were sitting or lying down. “I’m going to send this to my mom, if that’s okay with you.”

He groaned and threw an arm over his face. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You needed the rest. Besides, this was a picture perfect moment!” 

She was trying to kill him.

As he suspected, this was the first of many, many ‘picture perfect’ moments. Sometimes, he would have a lap full of puppies, with no way of escaping, only to hear “Cheese!” and the telltale flick of the shutter. Other times, he would be busy in the kitchen preparing the formula and out of the corner of his eye he would see her leaning on the doorframe, watching with that small little smile and her trusty Mr. Phone.

Worse, she got into the habit of wandering into the village when it was her turn to take a break and then come back with all sorts of questions.

“There’s a koi pond out back, why aren’t there any koi fish? What do you mean it’s unfinished?”

“Is that a guesthouse? That’s your shed!? It’s huge!”

“I saw a bunch of flowerpots, you should grow some flowers. Do ajisai grow around here? I loved seeing them whenever I walked home in the rain.”

“I was all the way out in the woods and I still had signal! You need to get a cell phone, you can’t rely on a landline forever! ...what do you mean there are BEARS?”

“My mom called and she said that photo of us was adorably perfect, can I post it online? I’m taking that grunt as a ‘Yes.’”

“What’s with all bank flyers on the front doors? Does the bank really own all the vacant houses?”

They built something of a routine. Luckily, this time, Inuyasha didn’t forget that she was a temporary resident.

Two weeks later, Miroku returned with the pickup truck. “Hope you two had a doggin’ good time!”

Kagome rolled her eyes as she hauled the nearly empty boxes into the back of the pickup. “Spare us, dear cousin. Sango-chan better be back today.”

“She and Shippo will be back by 3. We should have enough people until vaccination time, then we can work on finding foster homes. Speaking of the puppies, they grew fast!” Miroku said, and Inuyasha regrettably let the box of puppies go. “Thanks for all your help, my good man!”

“Yeah.” Inuyasha fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other. He never got used to saying goodbye.

“See you around, Inuyasha!” Kagome waved, one leg already in the truck. She held a bank flyer in her other hand, probably to show off to her city friends.

He watched the truck do a U-turn and disappear from sight.

He doubted they would see each other again.

~*~

He was wrong.

“There was a fire at the shelter.”

His power of comprehension always needed a few seconds to catch up whenever she called, which was getting frequent these days. “A fire?”

“The animal shelter. There was an electrical fire.”

Leave it to Kagome to drop a bombshell on him. “Holy fuck,” he cursed. “Are the puppies—did anyone—”

“The puppies are still at school. The volunteers got all the dogs out but some of them are being treated for smoke inhalation. We’re trying to help find shelters and foster homes but it’s a mess right now. You don’t mind if Miroku—”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he answered, unintentionally cutting her off. “Use my account to buy whatever you need.”

Miroku didn’t bring puppies this time. Inuyasha helped lead the Beagle mix, the Lab mix, and the Shiba Inu into the house. Miroku held out some papers for Inuyasha to sign, he assumed for the shelter to keep track of where their dogs went, and set about preparing their bowls and beds.

He quickly learned that the Beagle mix, Makura, was an old and heavy lap dog, and if Inuyasha sat down on the tatami, Makura would slowly but surely make his way from wherever he was in the house to rest on his favorite lap. The Lab mix, Kuriko, had a knack for sneaking into the kitchen and stealing his cookware. Why the cookware, he had no idea. The Shiba Inu, Pen-Pen, goddamn Pen-Pen, followed him. Everywhere.

Over the next few days, Miroku brought another Shiba Inu, a Chow Chow much to Inuyasha’s surprise, and a tiny little Chihuahua that wouldn’t stop shivering even on a warm autumn afternoon. The giant pile of dog food was starting to take over the living room, but he couldn’t move the kotatsu while Kuriko was sleeping on Inuyasha’s favorite spot beside the furniture.

One curious object hidden within the supplies had Inuyasha scratching his head. It was a large board with the words ‘HERMIT’S HAVEN’ etched into the wood. Stuck to it was a post-it note instructing him to hang it on the bridge for the visitors.

What visitors?

As usual, Kagome dropped the bombshell.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. It was Miroku’s idea, I didn’t think he’d actually make you sign anything without telling me first.” Well, she sounded apologetic.

Inuyasha stared into the distance, his sanity bidding him farewell. “My house’s now a dog shelter?”

“It doesn’t have to be your house. You’re a co-owner in name. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Kagome said, a nervous smile evident in her voice. “We’ll take care of everything else.”

Shockingly, she was right. More dogs were brought in, more dog houses were bought and built. Nothing changed. 

Except for the visitors.

They weren’t even locals. Tourists from overseas were making a day trip from the resort town to see his village. He had no idea how word got out. A young fox demon from the school dropped in one day and mentioned pictures and Kagome’s insta-something or other, but he didn’t really get it.

Inuyasha tried to make himself scarce whenever tourists showed up. ‘Tried’ being the operative word because goddamn Pen-Pen kept giving him away. The visitors would spot him in the tree, ask if he was from the pictures, he would grunt, and they would leave money and dog treats in a donation box—what the hell, who put that donation box there? 

“You’re a good man for taking care of all these dogs,” a blue-eyed man towering over everyone else spoke in perfect Japanese, offering his hand with not an ounce of hesitation. He might’ve mentioned he was from Australia. 

Inuyasha reluctantly reached for the hand, and was jerked forward into a bear hug. 

If anyone tried to kiss him on the cheek, he was diving into the stream.

~*~

“What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be hired either! Crazy, right? But they were really short on staff and took Kaede’s recommendation seriously.”

“Uh, yeah, congrats.”

“Thank you, Inuyasha!”

He ignored the funny feeling that traveled down his spine. What was wrong with him, she only said his name! “But, err, after you said that, you said you and Miroku were moving into...”

“Weeeelllll,” there it was, that nervous smile in her voice, “you know how the bank is offering all the vacant houses for free?”

“I mean, free if you work and live here for years.”

“More than a decade, yup.”

“You’re going to...more than a decade…”

“Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, neighbor.”

He should be glad. Two people he could tolerate moving into his village. 

The trucks were here before he could blink. The plan was to assess for renovations before moving in.

He should be glad.

“Inuyasha?” Miroku called. He stood outside Hiro’s old house. It was Miroku’s house now.

“I...gotta take a walk. Watch the dogs.”

“Take your time.”

Inuyasha hadn’t visited the graves since the puppies.

The elderly villagers had been old-fashioned, but loneliness had made them more social, so much so that dinner had to always be a village feast. Izayoi took up remodeling and enlarging a number of houses, just because she had the time, money and encouraging neighbors. As soon as Inuyasha learned to hunt, they had no problems accepting wild game from a half-demon. Then Izayoi fell ill…

Inuyasha was self-sufficient. It was alright, he had told himself, over and over again. Reality, and age, eventually caught up. The villagers’ children and grandchildren had moved to cities like Sapporo long ago. A few of the villagers relented and joined the young in the cities, but most had refused to leave. A couple of funerals later, the village became nothing but vacant and abandoned houses, and one half-demon.

He could have finished all those renovations, built that rock garden for Masa, lay out that trail from the woods to the koi pond so everyone had access, but he hadn’t.

Now, someone else would. Someone who would never know that Hiro dreamed of having a western-style fireplace, someone who would never know just how much Yumi loved her sunflowers, someone who could never understand just how much this village meant to him—

“Inuyasha?”

He grunted, but didn’t turn around.

Kagome sat down beside him. “Are you mad?”

“Not mad,” he answered without emotion, just as he rehearsed it.

“It’s not a problem, is it? Us moving here, I mean.”

“Not a problem.” Because it most certainly was not. “The bank gave it to ya. It’s all legal.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Kagome said quietly.

A long stretch of silence followed. Inuyasha knew he should say something, anything, and after nearly a year he thought it would be easier, but he had no words if the words weren’t about the dogs.

“Kaede-baa-san talked about you a lot,” Kagome said, mercifully. “She had a lot of friends here. And she’d always mention this one boy who'd help everyone with everything. It got hard for her, coming back here just to say goodbye to another friend. But she was most worried about the boy who refused to move out of the village.”

Kaede had asked him to move in with her. As kind as she was, he couldn’t bring himself to trust a city folk, not at the time. He would never ever admit it out loud, but hearing his apartment neighbors openly discuss if he fell under the ‘no pets rule’ had hurt.

“Kaede-baa-san is going to be at the school for a few days. You should drop by.”

“She worries too much.” 

“She likes you. I was a bit jealous for a while. You know, she kept your mom’s account at the school open just in case you wanted to use it. With the way she described you, though, I thought you’d be shy and scared of strangers. Imagine my surprise when you showed up with Hachi in your arms and leaves in your hair. Totally not what I expected.”

He tried to give a witty reply. Like how she surprised him too with her Oscar-worthy puppy dog eyes. Or how she had a bad habit of dropping bombshells, even now. Instead, all he managed was, “I should visit Hachi.”

Kagome beamed. “That’s a great idea.”

~*~

“I thought you were going back to Tokyo for Christmas.”

Kagome shrugged while peeling another tangerine. “I was too busy moving furniture and painting the walls. Totally forgot about buying the tickets.”

“Uh-huh.” Inuyasha was all too familiar with that tone. “But Miroku remembered, even though he was moving furniture and painting too.”

“I guess he’s just better at keeping track of time.”

“You’re weird for a city girl. Can’t keep track of time, wants to live in the middle of nowhere, what the hell?”

“I’m one of a kind. Now scooch over. Your trunk thighs are taking up space in the kotatsu.”

“Like I can, Makura’s on my lap and—dammit Pen-Pen, stop leaning on me!”

Kagome whistled. “Oh no, looks like I got competition. Better hide you away for bed time.”

Inuyasha muttered incoherently for a few seconds, his face turning seven different shades of red. “S-shut up.” Did she have to be so open about liking him?

But Kagome did like him. She especially liked him letting his guard down and falling asleep on the tatami with the dogs on top of him. She joined what she liked to call the ‘puppy pile’ and watched him nap, his chest slowly rising and falling despite the weight of Pen-Pen’s head.

The picture of her lying opposite Inuyasha with the black and white puppies had garnered a lot of attention. But Kagome definitely preferred lying next to him. 

Her eyelids grew heavy. Time for her to rest as well.

Flick, went the shutter. 

Kagome snickered. Send the picture to mom, and then rest.

~*~

AN: Puppy pile! 

This one shot got away from me. It was about a stray puppy bringing Inuyasha and Kagome together, and suddenly...this.

Haven’t had a fic get this out of control in a while.

[songtoyou]

Chapter One: Move You

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC) Rating: PG-13 (Will be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to communicate with one another openly but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation.However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either is willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: Mention of anxiety

Word Count: 2,530

Note: This is the first fic I have written in ages. Everything about it is fiction. Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.  

Thank you to @southerngracela​ and @sullyosully for the support. I also want to give a shout out to @royallyprincesslilly​​ for the text divider. 

*Updated for grammar edits.

June 2019

The early morning sun was peeking out of the sky, and the air became crisper after a night of pouring rain. It was supposed to be a scorcher day in June, according to the weather reports. That was not something Chris Evans was looking forward to since he would have to be on-set partaking in outdoor scenes wearing sweaters, business suits, and heavy coats for most of the day. Despite the uncomfortableness his job could be at times; it was all worth it in the end. Acting was Chris’s passion, and he was fortunate to do it for a living. Chris knew he was lucky to be where he is at in his career. From the ups and downs to disappointing film projects that either went nowhere or were rejected by critics and moviegoers, it all helped steer Chris to become the actor he is today. 

With Captain America’s story arch now complete, Chris understood that it would take a while for audiences and some of his fans not just to see him as Steve Rogers. Taken on Marvel’s top Avenger’s mantle was one of the best decisions he ever made as it took his career to new heights. Yes, Chris had some reservations at first when he was approached for the role. He did not feel confident enough if he could handle the responsibility of playing such an iconic character. Chris was also worried about losing his anonymity. He liked being able to walk down the street with no one recognizing him or asking for a photo and autograph. Now Chris was lucky to make it a few blocks without someone yelling out at him or screaming “Captain America!”, it most definitely did not help ease his anxieties. 

“You got that Marvel money saved up. You can live comfortably while pursuing projects that people would not expect you to take. It’s a win-win situation for you,” said Raina, one of Chris’s best friends, when mentioning the project, Defending Jacob. 

“You sound like my mom when you say that,” Chris replied.

Raina laughed at that and said, “I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“Good. I meant it as one. You both don’t take shit from anyone. And I know you’ll always have my back as she does.” 

Raina and his mom kept telling him to accept the lead role as Andy Barber in Defending Jacob. And how it would not only be beneficial to his career, but also because 1.) the show was filming in Massachusetts so that he would be in his own home every night, and 2.) it was a role he never played before: a father.

Sipping his coffee, Chris stood on the porch of his house as he watched Dodger relieve himself. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you some breakfast,” Chris waved Dodger over to get inside. The pup was happy to oblige his owner and trotted up the steps into the house.

Chris heard his cellphone buzz just as he put down Dodger’s food bowl. Reaching over the counter to retrieve it, Chris smiled when he saw the name pop up.

Raina: Why didn’t anyone tell me that New York is always hot as balls! I can’t take it!

Chris: I warned you about that, but you didn’t listen to me. What are you doing up so early?

Raina: Couldn’t sleep. Nervous about the preview shows for Moulin Rouge. It is coming up quickly. 

Chris: Again, congrats on Moulin Rouge. You got nothing to be nervous about; you are going to be great. 

Raina: I’m just worried if people will like the show. 

Chris: You and the crew wouldn’t have gotten to Broadway if people weren’t interested in seeing it, especially with you as Satine. This is what you were born to do. Scott, Ma, and I will be there on opening night. Carly and Shanna won’t be able to come but plan to see the show on a girls’ trip to New York later in the summer. I know both are proud of you as well. 

Raina: Stop! You are going to make me cry. All of you are so sweet. Seriously, I am forever grateful to you and your amazing family for supporting me all these years.

Chris: Can you believe it has been ten years since we met at that Vanity Fair photoshoot for West Side Story. 

Raina: Oh God! Do not remind of that shoot. I was a ball of nerves that day.

Chris: I thought the paramedics were going to need to be called for you.

Raina: Haha. Seriously though, they probably would have if you didn’t help calm me down.

 January 2009

“Wait, what is this photoshoot about?” Raina asked her manager, Jerry, who sighed in response.

“Raina, I’ve already told you. It is to celebrate the Broadway revival of West Side Story. The photographer is re-creating scenes from the film version,” explained Jerry.

Now it was Raina’s turn to let out a sigh. Despite being in the music industry since she was 16 years old, the whole idea of photoshoots still did not make her comfortable. Plus, the long hours, the bright lights, and the shoots’ craziness left Raina feeling drained. It was now adding other celebrities to the mix brought on a whole new set of anxieties.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jerry assured Raina and added, “Today’s going to be easy. You don’t have to worry about being front and center this time. You’ll be in the background so that you can relax.”

“If you say so,” Raina retorted with a small smile. She trusted Jerry.

When Raina finally arrived at the photoshoot, she was whisked away to hair and makeup and then onward to change her costume. She had already been introduced to her fellow photo mates, such as Ashley Tisdale and Robert Pattinson. Both were very pleasant and nice. 

“I am such a huge fan. I have all of your albums,” Ashley gushed admirably. 

“Thank you. That is very sweet of you to say. I loved your album ‘Headstrong,’ by the way. Such great bops,” Raina complimented, and Ashley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

As the two made their way to the set, each shared what project they were currently working on until Ashley stopped dead in her tracks.

“What is it?” Raina asked, concerned.

“Chris Evans,” whispered Ashley and went on, “Chris Evans is over there.”

“Yeah, didn’t you know he’d be here? Oh my God, you guys didn’t use to date, did you?”

“Ha! I wish. He is just so cute,” Ashley said dreamily.

Raina just laughed and shook her head, “Yeah, he isn’t bad looking.”

They filmed the dance scene from the movie where Maria and Tony see each other for the first time. Camilla Belle and Ben Barnes were assigned the lead roles for the shoot. Raina had to admit; both looked the part. The photographer, Mark Seliger, gathered everyone around to discuss how the scene would go. He started placing people in their spots with Jennifer Lopez and Rodrigo Santoro in their positions as lead Shark dancers Anita and Bernardo, with Camilla and Ben on their respective sides. Ashley was assigned as a Jet girl dancing with Chris’s character, the Jets leader, Riff. 

Raina hid her smile when Ashley shook Chris’s hand and introduced herself. Poor thing looked as if she could faint. Settled in the back, Raina was one of the Sharks. She was perfectly content where she was at standing next to Minka Kelly and Jay Hernandez. The three would even make little side chat here and there. 

Overall, the photoshoot was going well. Until the bright lights, the loud music, and the uncomfortable costume started getting to Raina. She felt like she was going to pass out.  However, Raina was determined to pull through in fear of being labeled a “diva” or, worse, “difficult” to work with; that was not the kind of press she needed now. Remembering what her mother told her to do when the first signs of an anxiety attack were coming on was to breathe in and out. She did that a couple of times as she closed her eyes when Mark said they were changing film and wanted a couple more shots. 

Unsurprisingly, someone else was beginning to get restless during the shoot as well. Chris was not a fan of photoshoots. He always felt awkward and never understood what he was supposed to be doing. He would continuously worry if he were coming off stupid or looking like a fool. 

Chris was more cautious of the types of photoshoots he would take part in and made sure to steer clear of the ones wanting him to be viewed as eye-candy merely. He was working hard to make a trajectory in his career from heartthrob to serious actor. However, Chris knew he had more to prove to audiences and critics for them to see past his ‘Not Another Teen Movie’ or ‘Fantastic 4’ roles. 

Nevertheless, when he got word about Vanity Fair’s West Side Story photoshoot, Chris was immediately on board. He was a theater kid, after all, thanks to his mother. Similarly, with other shoots, it all starts the same. The photographer talks about the art direction of the shoot and expectations for the day.  

During the short breaks on set, Chris looked around to see the other actors and performers. While he knew some of the folks on set, he did not honestly know any of them personally. The only person he was more acquainted with was Camilla, and that was because both filmed the movie Push a year ago.

As Chris’s eyes roamed around the room, they landed on Raina, who was fanning herself with her hands. While others were making small talk, he noticed that Raina took deep breaths and her eyes were closed. She stepped down on the chair she was standing on to take a seat and put her head in her hands. 

Chris felt bad. He knew an anxiety attack when he saw one. Slowly making his way over to Raina, he kneeled in front of her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chris asked in a whisper.

Raina jumped at the sound of his voice. She did not expect anyone to come up to check on how she was doing. She thought she was doing her best to be discreet.

“I don’t know. It’s too hot in here. The lights are hurting my eyes, and it’s hard to breathe,” Raina said, continuing to fan herself.

Instinctively, Chris reached out to hold one of Raina’s shaking hands to help calm her down. 

“Have you ever tried the 4-7-8 breathing technique?”

Raina shook her head no and said, “Never heard of that technique.”

“Trust me; it has helped me out a lot. Okay, so you’re going to breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven seconds, and exhale for eight seconds. Do you want to try it with me? Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and exhale 1, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, 8. Very good. Let’s do it again,” Chris calmly instructed Raina.

“I’ll get you some water. Just keeping doing the breathing exercises, okay.”

When Chris returned, he again kneeled in front of Raina and handed her the water cup.

“Thank you,” said Raina as she sipped slowly.

“You’re welcome.”

Raina let out a little chuckle, “I can’t believe I had an anxiety attack. I told Jerry I was worried about this happening. Again, thank you. I appreciate you helping me out,” expressed Raina gratefully.

As Raina continued to sip her water, Chris took the time to look at her. She was attractive, and he could tell she was a little bit younger than him. While this was Chris’s first-time meeting Raina, he had seen her before at other Hollywood functions. Neither having their paths cross until now.

“Okay, folks, let’s get back in your positions!” Mark yelled to get everyone’s attention.

“You going to be okay?” asked Chris as he stood up.

“Yes. I’m going to be fine,” answered Raina, standing up as well.

Chris helped her back up on the chair, and he returned to his spot next to Ashley. It was weird. No one else seemed to notice what went on between the two. It was like for those few short moments, Chris and Raina were in their own world. 

Chris kept stealing glances towards Raina for the rest of the shoot. He kept telling himself it was to make sure she was okay, not that he was drawn to her or anything. 

‘Don’t go there, Evans. The last thing you need is to be in a relationship, and she doesn’t look like the type to do hookups,’ Chris scolded himself and added, ‘Most likely won’t ever see her again after this day.’

“I am glad that it didn’t take long for us to meet again after that day. We do have Scott and Shanna to thank for that, by the way,” Chris happily reminded Raina.

He decided to call her that morning after their text exchange. He preferred hearing her voice anyways. 

“Oh yeah, at my concert in Boston. It was fate. We were destined to be friends.”

“Yep. Even though you are a fan of the New York Mets and Giants fan, I still love ya,” teased Chris.

Raina groaned, “Let us not bring up sports, shall we. It can only get ugly from here. Anyways, I’ll let you go. I gotta start heading out for rehearsals. Talk to you later. Bye,” said Raina.

“Bye, sweetheart. Take care,” replied Chris and ended the call. 

He looked over at Dodger, who had finished eating and was now lying in one of his dog beds near the kitchen table. As Chris continued to sip his coffee, he decided to make breakfast and went to the fridge to take some eggs. Once he got everything ready to begin cooking, his mind drifted to Raina. Chris noticed that his mind had been doing that more recently lately. 

For Chris, his relationship with Raina was more than just a friendship. She was someone he could confide in about things he was not comfortable bringing up to his family or close childhood friends. Their friendship evolved when both began a “friends with benefits” type of relationship. This would only occur when both were not in committed relationships with other people. 

Surprisingly, this arrangement only managed to make them closer friends. The boundaries they agreed upon were put in place not to fracture their friendship. He went into the situation not wanting to build some domesticated life with Raina. However, at times, Chris kept thinking if he could turn his friendship with Raina into something more. Something more than friends, more than sex buddies, but as a life partner. A wife and mother to his children.

‘Stop lying to yourself,’ Chris’s inner voice spoke up, ‘You’re in love with Raina. Just admit it!’

Nevertheless, Chris could not admit to himself. He was not ready to deal with those feelings for one of his closest friends. 

Not yet, at least. 

[softjeon]

A place to belong

• Pairing: Jimin x Bobcat!Namjoon • Genre: Fluff and a bit of crack, cause Namjoon...you’ll see. | Hybrid!AU • Words: 12k | AO3 • Disclaimer: none

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳  He wasn’t good with this. But he wanted to be. Because Jimin was lonely and he was lost and so maybe they could make it work so that both of them would get a little taste of happiness. 

He shivered at the cold bit at him on this grey morning. The wet snow was dragging down the branches of the pines, every step of his leaving a mark and giving away where he was going. The bathrobe was tied tightly around his waist as he hurried further towards the bushes, with a bag in one hand and a water jug in his other. Every morning, it was the same routine: Jimin filled the bowl up again with two or three cups of bird feed and filled the other with some water. He never left a morning out. It was just part of his getting ready in the morning. Just as much as the freezing was. The more he was excited for his hot shower after. 

Sometimes, when Jimin was lucky, there was even a little squirrel already awaiting him. Looking up at him patiently, waiting for him to spread the feed around a little more. He usually threw some of the bird feed under the bushes. For the shy ones, Jimin always told Yoongi who teased him about his unusual routine. Most animals though didn’t come out until he was gone, and he could only see them from the kitchen window sometimes. 

Jimin was about to scoop the first cup, when his eyes widened. The bowls were emptied. As if someone had licked them completely clean. Usually, there was always something left, a few scoops of corn or peanuts because Jimin was really generous and filling it up every day. But it was never been emptied before. Looking over his shoulder, Jimin narrowed his eyes as he tried to see if there maybe was a bigger animal around. Or maybe more birds and squirrels were seeking shelter? Or other animals? Deers? His heart ached at the thought and took a few more scoops this time, filling the bowl to the rim quickly.

“There you go,” Jimin whispered, before he hurried back into the warmth of his living room again. He needed to get ready for work. 

❄️...❄️

He would have never thought that he was happy about bird food, but he had been so excited to find it he had stuffed his face before realizing that not all the sunflower seeds had been peeled. Coughing up sunflower seed shells wasn’t a nice feeling - but he had different problems right now. He felt almost a little guilty for stealing the bird’s food but luckily there were a few houses around that had started to offer food for winter birds now that the temperature had dropped so significantly. He just normally couldn’t get there. He moaned in delight when he saw that whoever was feeding the birds at this place had actually sprinkled a few nuts in between. 

Walnuts, peanuts, something that would make him feel even more full. With cold hands he tried to grab as many nuts as he could making sure to leave some seeds behind to not make it too obvious that someone else had been busy eating the food - but his stomach growled and he felt lightheaded already so in the end he just gave in and took the whole plate again, stuffing everything into his pockets. Who knew when the owner would come home or a neighbor or whoever else had access to this garden. If he was lucky he could stay close and maybe take some food from here again. 

❄️…❄️

It was always the same routine. He put the key into the lock, turned it twice to lock the door and then turned on the light before plopping down onto the couch tiredly. Those long shifts really took a toll on him, especially in winter. Jimin turned to look outside, but he couldn’t see anything but his own reflection. It was already dark and there was more snow falling.

Jimin sighed deeply, when he finally could manage to get himself up from the couch and took the scarf from the drawer to wrap it around his neck to keep the cold out. At least for a little bit, while he would hurry down the little path to the shed where he stored the wood for the chimney. A nice warm fire was what he needed, he thought. Jimin was already halfway there, arms wrapped around his body, trying to ignore how cold it was when he noticed the plate by the feeding place being tossed over.

“Huh?” Jimin stopped dead in his tracks and cocked his head aside, carefully getting closer to where he had placed the food this morning. “Are you really that hungry?” Jimin asked to no one in particular and then laughed. “Oh well, then I might get you some more, right?” Carefully he turned around and rushed back to his home to get the bucket filled with the seeds. 

❄️…❄️

All those nuts and seeds had given him a stomachache after not having eaten for a little while, but he figured he would be fine if he just ate a little slower this time. He had found a place in a small barn nearby. Someone had locked the door with chains to make sure that no one could get in even though the chains whereby far the newest thing about the whole thing. The wood was dark and old and there must have been paint before even though you could only guess it from a few spots where it was peeling and coming off in flakes. Namjoon didn’t give up easy (or else he wouldn’t be still here) so he had rounded the barn, trying to find another way inside. In the end it had been incredibly easy. He only had to climb the next tree and then reach for the window. There was nothing to cover them properly and the windowpane wasn’t even fully made of glass just some shards and some kind of plastic behind it. Apparently someone had smashed the window and the barn owner had only halfheartedly fixed it. Namjoon could slip into it despite the darkness (he could be quiet but even he didn’t dare to climb trees in broad daylight.) Inside it was dry and the last bit of tension left his body when he saw the dust lingering everywhere. No one had been inside of here in a long time. He was safe - for a while.

❄️…❄️

Jimin was about to head out in the wintery cold again, when he saw the apples in his basket. Honestly, he didn’t know why he bought them anyways. It was just because they looked great in the bowl, but every morning he forgot to take one to work with him and then he didn’t eat them and usually threw them away when they got old. In a quick decision, he picked two of them and put them into the basket and slid the glass door open again. The cold immediately rushed in and let him shiver, but he was determined.

“I got you some apple, too.” Jimin was talking again, not really caring if someone would call him crazy. But maybe there was a family of hedgehogs or squirrels that needed more food than what he had brought before. “I’m not sure if you like them or not, but if you do you can have them. I don’t really eat them anyways and you must be very hungry.” He scooped up a few cups again, filling the plate and then put the apples down. 

❄️…❄️

Namjoon was thankful for his new place, it almost resembled a home. He had a roof over his head, and he could eat regularly - even if it was just bird food. He wondered why the person who was feeding the birds did just refill the plated. Surely he must have noticed by now that something was off. But instead of hiding the plates or keeping an eye on them he just put more food there. Nonetheless Namjoon was extra careful, just to be sure, so he closed his eyes again, letting time pass. As he was mostly out at night and sleeping throughout the day it took him a while until he saw who lived in the house that belonged to the garden where he got his meals from. He had just woken up when his ears turned at a strange sound. 

Rubbing his eyes, he took a peak between the wooden slats that the barn was made of and froze in his position. There was a human right across the street from him, pulling a trash can right behind him. It looked heavy and Namjoon wondered if there was something inside that was still edible. Hopefully he could take a look before the garbage collection would take it with them. He had found tasty things in garbage cans before, especially if he had been lucky enough to get one that the supermarkets used. Unfortunately, those were always more secured and in open places with lots of light to scare off “dumpster divers”. He had still tried a few times but after he had been almost caught twice he deemed the risk too high. He had no idea what they would do to him if they caught him and realized to whom he had belonged. He rather ate bird food than risk finding it out.

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin rubbed his eyes together, pushing the trashcan at the side of the street. Blowing into his hands, he tried to warm them as he head back to his door. He had refilled the food every morning and sometimes even at night, wondering who was so hungry. Some evenings, Jimin had stood by the window with the lights being out in his apartment to see if he could spot a few of them - but there were only squirrels and a few small birds happily chiming in on the food. And yet, the next morning everything was gone again from the plate and he found it empty. In the end, Jimin bought a new pack of bird feed just this morning, because the other was already empty and added some apples into his cart. Usually Jimin didn’t have to buy a new one all winter, but normally there wasn’t as much hungry animals around. It wasn’t like he lived near a forest or something. 

Careful not to slip on the wet snow, Jimin walked back inside, yearning for a warm cup of cocoa. He was just about to fill his favorite mug with some milk, when he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that he had completely forgotten to take out the kitchen bag as well. With a sigh, Jimin gazed out of the window, letting out a whine when he saw the snowflakes falling. For a moment he hesitated, whether he should just bring it out the next the morning and just leave it be, trying to ignore the fact that usually the garbage trucks came pretty early and he usually was still asleep. Jimin groaned and took the bag out of its container, before he headed out of the door again.  

Namjoon had waited for a little while after the human had left the street and went back into his home but he was too curious and too restless to wait for longer so he sneaked out of the barn shortly after even though he knew he should wait until everyone was certainly asleep. Looking left and right he slowly crossed the street, ducking behind everything that could hide him a little bit, but it wasn’t necessary no one was out in the cold. Carefully Namjoon opened the lid of the trash can and sniffed. There was the smell of decay and something moldy, but he had expected that. People were so spoilt with food that they put stuff in the trash that was still edible. Namjoon didn’t mind mealy apples or old food. You could soak hardened bread or cut off parts that were burnt or musty. He would surely get a nice meal tonight! 

Jimin was about to close the door behind him, trying to keep the cold from creeping when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. A sound like someone roaming around in his trash made him jump around, holding onto the bag as he stared into a pair of gleaming eyes – not longer than a second. 

Namjoon had just managed to get hold of a half-eaten chicken wing when he heard the door open. He froze, heart beating so loud that he could hear it in his ears. He was out in the open here - and running towards the barn might give away his hiding spot too! He was hesitating long enough for the human to come within sight and Namjoon lost it. 

He hissed, a sound that wasn’t that dangerous anymore because the fear that washed over him like a wave choked him off. With the chicken wing in hand he ran, blindly and carelessly running into the next bushes because he needed to get away now before the human could call the animal service. 

Jimin froze on the spot, eyes wide as he stared at the spot where the animal had gotten out of sight for him. Only now did he get out of his stupor, letting the bag fall and hurry towards the trashcan to close the lid again. Jimin looked over his shoulder, breathing heavily as his heart was beating fast. He gulped hard, eyes flickering around to spot the animal – or whatever it had been. Either way it wasn’t a squirrel, or a bird and it was definitely bigger than a dog. Jimin stood there for what felt like an eternity until his feet felt like frozen blocks. “I’m sorry I scared you,” Jimin took a step closer to the bushes, where he had last seen the intruder and came to a halt there. He waited, listening closely for any sounds, before he retreated slowly again. The animal was gone.

❄️…❄️ 

Namjoon had been running for about twenty minutes before he dared to stop. his breath came in harsh pants and his throat felt sore because the cold night air had roughed it up. He had messed it up, he had been too greedy. he should make sure to find a new spot to sleep now in case the human would go searching around or tell people or call the animal service after all. He needed to be sure that no one knew where he was. Namjoon shivered in the cold. The snowflakes were landing gently on his form, wetting his hair and soaking his clothes. He was still holding onto the chicken wing so he crouched down behind some bushes to eat it before it would freeze into a block of ice.

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin stood by the window, trying to spot whatever he had seen and hissed at him only hours ago, but it was still quiet. There was nothing, but the leaves moving with the wind and the snow that was falling slowly. The temperatures would drop even more tonight and Jimin bit his lip, worrying and replaying the moment he had seen the shadow when he gasped, and his eyes widened. 

“Hybrid,” Jimin turned on his heel quick, his heart racing fast as he reached for the blanket from his couch and then ran into the kitchen again to get a thermos. “Of course,” He was mumbling to himself, putting one by one together. There was only one animal that could reach into his trash, hiss at him and then run away on two legs. One that wasn’t entirely animal in his being. Jimin had seen a few hybrids before, but usually only someone rich enough to be able to afford one could buy one or get a hybrid from the shelter to take care of.  

Not really caring about putting on shoes, Jimin stepped out on the snow, soaking his socks - but he ignored it as he rushed to the bird’s feed and put the blanket there and the thermos that was filled with hot tea. He was only hoping that the other would find his way back and that he hadn’t scared him off completely. 

❄️…❄️ 

Namjoon was cowering in the bushes for a while, half expecting someone with a stick chasing him out and he had seen people use electric shock devices as well. He was frozen in place because if he ran now he would be out in the open. Every car, every late night walker would see him, and he was too dirty, too weird to not let people notice. However, he couldn’t stay here, now that the human had gotten a look he needed to get away as soon as possible. He should climb into the barn one last time and take everything that would warm him. He had felt bad for stealing in the beginning, but he was too close to purest survival to really care anymore. He would get up and get the stuff right now! Or maybe.. maybe he would do it in a few seconds, just too be sure… or maybe a few seconds longer, until the light behind the windows would have gone out. 

The fear of being discovered and the cold literally freezing him were holding him in place and so he waited... and waited until his limbs were shaking and his lips were turning blue. His bod was getting numb from the cold and he knew that it was starting to get dangerous, but he didn’t dare to move, still, even though he knew he should. 

When the door opened again, and the human came out he flinched so hard he almost fell over. He tried to mobilize his cold limbs enough to run when he saw that the other was carrying blankets and a bottle. He watched in surprise as the human placed all of it at the bird feeding station and then went back inside as if… as if he had been leaving those things for him! Surely it must be a trap!

Jimin closed the door again, waiting for a moment as he looked outside before finally turning around and turning off the light. He didn’t want the hybrid to be scared that he would come out or still be there and watch him. So, instead Jimin walked to his kitchen and made himself some tea as well. He slipped out of his wet socks, throwing them somewhere, where he could fetch them later, when he saw a shadow scur over the new fallen snow and towards the bird feed. 

Namjoon had kept in his place, sitting and waiting for the other to jump out or get the blankets back inside because Namjoon wouldn’t take them. However, nothing had happened. Even the light at the house went out. So, the human either used some night watch goggles to still watch him or some kind of camera. It must be that. Who would freely give out blankets and water? He might have been kind with the bird food before, but he knew now that Namjoon wasn’t some stray animal or else he wouldn’t have left a bottle. This had to be a trap. No one was stupid enough to take care of a stray hybrid. And yet the later it got and the less he could feel his limbs Namjoon’s willpower melted away until all he could think about was the blankets. He needed to move, he needed to get warm. He might die from hypothermia if he stayed in the bushes and even if it was a trap and they got him he might survive the night and then.. he might be able to run away again…

Crouched down he started to inch closer, trying to stay under the radar but he wasn’t graceful or moving fluidly, he was too cold for that. When he finally reached the blankets, they felt stiff and cold as well but when he threw them over his shoulders it got instantly warmer and then he discovered that the bottle wasn’t filled with water, it was tea, hot, delicious tea and he gulped down as much as he could stomach.

Jimin couldn’t see much but the shadow, but the smile on his lips grew even wider when he saw that the hybrid was enjoying his gift and that he hadn’t run away. A little hastily, but he still did, and he promised to himself to do the same again the next day. But for now, he hoped it was enough to sleep through the night – for both of them.

❄️…❄️

When Jimin’s alarm made him jerk up again and he sleepily shuffled through his living room the next morning, he almost oversaw it. When his eyes fell on the grey thermos that stood right in front of his door he couldn’t believe it: the hybrid had brought it back to him.

He instantly walked over, tying his robe a little tighter around his waist before opening the door. Jimin shivered from the cold. It had snowed again, and the human wondered how close the hybrid must be. Taking the thermos, he closed the door again and did the same routine as last night again. Jimin took the thermos that was filled with hot tea again, some apples and vegetables he still had in his fridge and placed them right outside his door again.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin spoke a little louder, hoping that his neighbors wouldn’t see him and wonder who he was talking to at the ass crack of dawn. “I’ll be gone to work soon. You’ll see my car there will be gone so you can come here freely.” Jimin looked around, trying to spot a movement. “If…if you need more blankets, maybe you can give me a sign…just…” He took the lid off the thermos, “Just place it next to it so I know you need more blankets, okay?” Jimin waited for a moment, then put the lid back and got up.

Namjoon’s had a good night's sleep in the barn with the new blankets and a stomach full of warm tea. He had curled up tightly, hiding completely under the blankets to keep warmer and also to stay hidden in case anyway took a look into the barn. He woke up when Jimin placed the food to the bird feeding place, but he was only conscious enough to get the last part because it took him a while to get up and listen in. He was a little wary that the human didn’t seem to mind but he had kind of reach out to him in a way. Putting the thermos back on the other’s stairs had been the only way to tell him that he appreciated the gift as he had nothing else to give in return. Apparently though it had been enough for the human to continue to feed him with even more food than before. He couldn’t wait for the other to be gone to get the food. It was so much that he would been able to store some of it away for tomorrow - or a bad day when the other would stop feeding him for free. 

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin had no clue that Namjoon was hiding in the barn at the end of his garden. It was overgrown, old and rusty and Jimin was always just waiting for it to crash down one day. He’d never used it. He wasn’t good with his garden anyways and usually, when spring came he let someone else take care of it.  

The human had bought a few more things at the store after work, excited to feed his little new neighbor. Somehow it gave him something to do, while usually his nights had been pretty boring as all he did was go to work, come back and watch tv. His house was too big for him, but it was all he had and Jimin was proud of it. But now, with his new routine, it felt a little easier to get up in the morning and to come home again – as if someone was waiting for him. Jimin kept talking to the hybrid, even though he couldn’t see him, placing all kinds of new things he bought outside and some tea, hoping that it would get him through the winter. Even if he had to do it every day – and of course Jimin didn’t stop feeding the birds, too.  

“This is a new tea I bought. I’m not sure if it will taste good but you would have to tell me.” Jimin laughed as he placed the thermos down again, realizing he had forgotten the food. “Oh! I’ll be back in a second!” 

It had become a habit for Namjoon, and a dangerous one at that. Because instead of waiting until he was absolutely certain that Jimin was gone Namjoon came out of his hiding spot sooner sometimes. Jimin never turned around or came back. So, he was about to climb down the tree that he used to get in and out of the barn when he saw that Jimin was on his way back to the feeding place, food in hand. Namjoon froze, holding his breath as if that would help him. He was pretty sure Jimin wouldn’t overlook a fully grown hybrid hanging in the tree next to the feeding place - although he hadn’t seen him yet. He felt hot and cold all over, waiting for it to happen.

Jimin was so immersed in his task, that he didn’t see Namjoon at all, placing the food down as he kept on talking. “It’s just a bit of rice and vegetables. I hope you like it.” He was about to turn around, when Jimin saw something move out of the corner of his eyes. Carefully, he turned around, eyes wide as his gaze followed up to see who was lurking around on the tree, when he met another pair of eyes. Their eye contact was cut off roughly though, when the hybrid jumped down, crouching to cushion the fall. Jimin squealed in surprise, jumping back but he wasn’t scared. He stood in awe, mouth agape as he stared at the hybrid in front of him. 

Namjoon almost managed to stay hidden to the other when his leg started cramping from the uncomfortable position. He moved, just slightly - and the other looked up at him. Without thinking Namjoon jumped down, not wanting to hang there like a fruit to be plucked. They were staring at each other, Namjoons light amber eyes meeting the dark browns of the human - who seemed a little intimidated by his size. Or maybe he had expected something cute like a cat or a bunny and was now shocked when being faced with a predator.

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat, a motion that it hadn’t done it a while and surprised him so much that it made him gasp for air. He gulped, looking up at the hybrid that stood tall in front of him and was…

“Handsome,” Jimin whispered the words out loud, only realizing then what he had said. His eyes widened and cheeks blushed vividly red. “I mean…” He tried to think of something quick, but there was nothing witty he could think of an instead Jimin reached for the pot of rice and held it out for the hybrid. “F-for you. You’re the one living in my garden, right?”

“Wh..what?” Of everything the other could have said this was the farthest away from what he had expected. Had he really just been called handsome? Or did he jump down from that tree too fast and had gotten himself dizzy? He cautiously reached out his hands to take the rice. It was a full pot, a day’s worth of food and Namjoon wondered why the other was giving so freely when he couldn’t get something back in return. “Yeah that’s.. that’s me. Thank you for.. all the food. And blankets. And.. and the tea.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears. He hadn’t talked to anyone in a while. They were quiet again for a little while both of them too wary and too awkward to talk until Namjoon quietly dared to ask what had been bothering him since it had been obvious Jimin knew he was close. “Why... haven’t you called the animal services. Or the police? Do you want... my fur?”

“Your fur? What do I want with it and why should I? You haven’t been bothering me.” Jimin smiled honestly at the hybrid, “It gave me a nice routine as well, makes waking up in the morning a little easier if you know something might be waiting for you to refill.” He bit his lip, trying not to overwhelm the other. Jimin was still surprised at his sudden appearance, when the last couple of days he hadn’t even seen a shadow. “Also, do you think I look like a fur coat owner?” He made a face of disgust, “That’s just cruel.”

Namjoon cocked his head, giving the other a thorough once over. He hadn’t been that close to the other before. He looked… young, with a soft face and kind eyes. His words however spoke of loneliness and Namjoon was confused. “So, you live entirely alone?” He had been sure that someone else would visit that house, maybe coming back from holidays but no one had been visiting Jimin at all since Namjoon had stayed in the barn. “Routine, that’s it? You’re spending all that time and money and food and effort on me just to give you routine?” His brows furrowed. “Surely you must want something in return.” There wasn’t a certain ‘look’ to fur lovers, but they’d look at Namjoon differently than Jimin did. He wasn’t fixated on his presenting animal traits he looked into his eyes. Like he was a person.

Jimin shook his head again. “I saw you were hungry and figured you must be cold. I wasn’t even sure if you still were close or if I chased you away. I was just happy to see you alive and enjoy the tea, honestly. You really don’t have to be afraid of me. I have absolutely no use for your fur.” He smiled softly at the hybrid, wrapping himself a little closer in his jacket. This year’s winter was extremely cold and Jimin could tell from the hybrid’s clothes that he wasn’t wearing much to protect him from it. “If you want, you can come inside. I have a fireplace where you can warm yourself up and I can make you some soup.”  

“You want me to come inside? Into your home? To eat soup?” Namjoon repeated, getting more and more wary. This didn’t make any sense. He had been hunted by humans, had been owned and treated like a piece of furniture and he had seen, heard and read about wild hybrids being caught and killed off if they didn’t have someone who claimed ownership over them, simply because they were ‘dangerous’. He had been on the run for weeks, scared to be seen by anyone because of that. And there he was now, standing in front of a human who had fed him, cared for him and who offered him, a predatory hybrid, some soup inside of the house. Was that man an adrenaline Junkie searching for a high through danger? Or did he underestimate him and wanted to keep him like an exotic pet that he could use for entertainment and show off to others? 

“In case this is some kind of trap I’m warning you; I didn’t have my teeth filed nor have been declawed. I can do just as much damage as the animal that’s part of me.” 

Jimin simply nodded at that. He couldn’t help it though; his heart was beating just a little faster. The hybrid in front of him was predatory, he should be careful - but at the same time something told him that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Only if you want to. You can also just take the tea again,” Jimin pointed at the thermos before turning around. “Don’t leave the door open for too long or else all the heat will escape.” With that he slid the living room door open, smiling at the hybrid over his shoulder, before he went in and prepared the fireplace.  

Namjoon was surprised by the youngers nonchalance and despite better knowledge it intrigued him to see what the other had in store for him. He hadn’t had to fight and defend himself with teeth and claws for a while now, but he figured if necessary he would be able to use it without hesitation. Besides he had won against bigger and scarier people than this soft, kind-eyed human. And who could say no to hot soup on a cold winter's day? Definitely not him. Carefully and with a slightly tense stance he went after the other, leaving the door open behind him, just to be sure…

Jimin rubbed his hands together and held them against the heat that was now coming from the fireplace. “Do you rather want a chicken soup? I still have some. It just would take a little longer to prepare the meat.” He asked, when Namjoon was still standing at the door, hesitating to come in fully. Jimin’s living room was wide and the open kitchen, made it look even bigger. A grey couch stood in the middle with a few splashes of color from the cushion that were spread all around brightening it up. “You can feel at home…,” Jimin hesitated, his eyes widened when he realized he didn’t know the strangers name, yet. “I am so sorry. I guess I was so surprised to see you, but I am Jimin.” He took a step closer to the hybrid and held out his hand with the brightest smile. 

Was this a trick question? Of course, he would love to get some chicken soup. He started salivating at the mentioning of meat alone and his stomach cramped in anticipation. He couldn’t remember when had been the last time that he had gotten something like meat. If he didn’t count that canned dog food that they had given all the animals from the private zoo when they had taken them in then it must have been when his owner was still alive. So, months ago. He was so lost in thoughts and remembrance that it surprised him when Jimin held out his hand and he jumped back, instinctively baring his fangs. When he realized that Jimin had just tried to shake his hand he blushed, reaching out to shake his hand as expected.

“I’m...” He hesitated for a second. How high was the chance that they had broadcasted his name during the all-points bulletin? They normally concentrated on their looks, their history, how dangerous they were. He had never heard a name. Those weren’t important to humans. “My name is Namjoon.” He finally answered honestly, hoping he wasn’t making a grave mistake right now.

Jimin bit his lip. He couldn’t hide the excitement that he felt, how intrigued he was by the beautiful man standing in front of him. Namjoon’s ears twitched, when he gazed up at them and Jimin scrunched his nose in a cute manner, still holding onto his hand. “Do you want to help me or rather want to rest in front of the fire, Namjoon?” 

“I’d like to help you if that's okay.” Which wasn’t a lie exactly. However, telling Jimin that he wouldn’t be able to rest anyway if he knew that Jimin was in the kitchen where there were knives as well as a telephone to call back up wouldn’t be that ‘polite’. So, he rather kept an eye on him while pretending to be all friendly and helpful. Not that he wasn’t he just didn’t knew the other well enough to let go of his wariness.

Jimin finally let go off his hand, feeling a little tingle at his spine when he did. He really needed to go out with friends more, Jimin thought to himself. “Here, you can prepare the meat if you want.” Jimin opened the fridge and offered Namjoon a package, before pointing at some kitchen shelves. “You can find seasoning over there and a pot down in the counter.” It was a nice feeling to not just cook for himself, but to prepare the meal together – almost as if they were friends already. Jimin couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose, when he saw the tail swinging back and forth softly when Namjoon turned his back on him. 

Namjoon opened the fridge and had to squint his eyes at the bright light. When his sensitive eyes got used to the brightness he was stunned into silence for a moment. There where so many kinds of food - and enough of it to life off it for a week. A wild instinctual thought passed through him that told him to grab as much food as he could and then run to a secure place where he could prepare a nest and stay safe and warm. However, he knew better than to trust his instincts here. There was no way he would survive in the city, during the cold, harsh winter even with an arm full of food. He didn’t need to ask where the chicken was he could smell it right away. When he took out the package the juicy meet pressed against his fingers and he let out a soft, appreciative sigh. 

Jimin let Namjoon chose whatever he wanted in his soup and began to prepare the utensils, placing them down at the counter. He waited for the hybrid to bring everything over and started cutting the vegetables. “How long have you been out there, Namjoon? If I am allowed to ask,” Jimin looked at the other, wanting to make sure he knew he could refuse to answer if it made him feel uncomfortable. “Have you always been just out there or?”

After bringing over the chicken he hastily licked his fingers, turning half away from Jimin so the other couldn’t see how greedy he was. It tasted heavenly and he couldn’t wait to finally get his teeth into the meat as well. Namjoon stayed close, watching Jimin handling the knife and washing some vegetables instead to have something to do. He was pretty sure the other didn’t want him cutting stuff as well. “I’ve been in your area for about… three weeks now I guess.” Which was completely true. Jimin didn’t have to know that he had roamed through other parts of the cities as well. “No, I haven’t always lived like that.” He kept his answers short, nothing to make Jimin recognize who he was in case he had watched any news about missing hybrids. “How about you? Have you always lived here?” If he kept the other busy then maybe he wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“Me neither,” Jimin continued and gave the knife over to Namjoon, before he started pouring in the vegetables into the soup. “This house is quite big for just one person, right?” He sighed, “I bought it with…with someone a few years ago but that person never moved in.” A weak smile pulled at his lips, “So, I’m alone. You don’t really have to be scared of anyone coming. Most of my friends live closer to the city.”

“Well I’ve learned that one cruel person can be enough...” He answered back under his breath without meaning to. At Jimin’s face he quickly bowed his head. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but nice to me. And if you’re really as kind as you were to me until now then I want to apologize and say… thank you. For the food, for the warmth and the.. the kindness. It’s just...” He bit his lip and then decided to be blunt, “You are the first person I met that hasn’t any ulterior motives. At least none that I can see. And it makes me utterly nervous because if I’m wrong and you are not who you pretend to be then… I don’t want to end up as some trophy, dead, in a private museum of some sort. Or in one of the illegal fighting areas. Or as some sex slave in your basement.”

Jimin stood speechless for a moment, eyes on Namjoon as he spoke so honest from his heart and telling him his concerns. He stopped what he was doing, resisting the urge to reach out for the hybrid and hug him tight. “I see that humans have hurt you a lot, but I won’t. You’re the one with the knife right now and you’re a predator, right? One that is much taller than me.” Jimin leaned against the kitchen counter, “I don’t think you need to be the one being worried here. And if you need to know it: I voted for hybrid rights.” He nodded proudly, “A friend of mine is actually very well-spoken about the issue. I try and support him as much as I can but I’m not really the speaker kind of person.” Holding out his hand, Jimin motioned for the chicken. “Do you want me to put it in?”

Namjoon looked at Jimin without blinking, scanning every word, every gesture with his unwavering gaze. If Jimin was a liar then he was a damn good one because as far as Namjoon could tell the other really meant what he said. If only he could lean in and sniff the other, a scent could say so much about a person, but he knew that humans didn’t sniff each other, and he didn’t want to startle his benefactor. He nodded as answer to the chicken question, wondering why Jimin was so careful to include him in the meal preparations.

Jimin began to stir the pot, adding a few more seasonings, before giving it over to Namjoon again. In the meantime, he prepared something to drink and brought it all over to the coffee table. “I don’t want to be rude, but…” Jimin chuckled, when he pointed at Namjoon’s dirty clothes, “Do you maybe want to take a shower while this cooks? I can give you a few clothes as well and put these into the washing machine. I won’t move until you’re back, I promise. The bathroom is right down the hallway. You can just take a towel from the shelves and use my shampoo. I don’t mind.”

“A shower…” Namjoon repeated dumbfoundedly. He had almost forgotten how it was to stand under a spray of warm water. “Thank you I’d appreciate that.” He walked down the hallway slowly, ears twitching to see if Jimin really stayed where he said he would. When he didn’t hear anything he carefully stepped into the bathroom. There were tiles on the floor and the cold made him stop for a second. Then he locked the door and undressed. It was strange, the moment he got out of his clothes he really felt how filthy they were. As long as they had been on his body he hadn’t mind but now with the prospect of clean, warm water and new clothes he shuddered at how stiff and dirty they were. In the shower it took him awhile to find out how it worked, and he hissed in shock when the water started cold instead of warm but then he closed his eyes and just relaxed. It was wonderfully warm and relaxing and Namjoon almost purred with joy. 

When he had stepped out of the shower Namjoon had felt like a whole new person. He was a little embarrassed that even though he had scrubbed himself clean the towel still got a little dirty from drying himself up and some lose fur that the water didn’t get rid of. As he didn’t want to step back into his dirty clothes he wrapped the furry towel around his waist and then walked out, tail swinging comfortably. There were no new clothes around, so he was about to ask Jimin where he had put the one he had promised. The other was still busy preparing the table and as Namjoon didn’t want to interrupt him he stayed where he was, waiting for Jimin to get aware of his presence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a drop of water running over his shoulder and without thinking he licked it off. It was that moment that Jimin turned and Namjoon froze with his tongue out, like an actual cat cleaning itself.

Jimin had been busy preparing their meal until it was finished, not even minding that a stranger was in his house right now. It felt good not to be alone for once. With his mind being so at ease, Jimin began to sing to himself softly, while he was moving around in the kitchen. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn’t hear when the water stopped running or the bathroom door opened again. So, he hadn’t expected Namjoon to be right behind him again, standing in his living room like the Greek-hybrid god that he was. Jimin had maybe told Namjoon that he would give him clothes, but in his haste to finish the food, he had forgotten to give him some, leading him to stare at a very naked chest right now. Jimin gasped, eyes fixated on Namjoon’s sculpted chest.

He just kept staring at him. His mind was blank. Heart beating fast and somehow he felt a little dizzy. Licking over his lips slowly, Jimin gulped and his gaze wandered down again. Maybe he should get something to drink, feeling a little thirsty. He coughed awkwardly, trying to get out of his stance, when it just blurted out of him, realizing a bit too late that his thoughts and what he said didn’t add up: “And you worry about me. With those muscles you could easily bend me over.” His eyes widened in shook, “Break me. My bones, I mean. You could break me in half.” Jimin let out a quiet whine, cheeks flaming red as he turned around to hastily stir the pot. “M-my bedroom is upstairs. I mean…there’s my closet. Just take what you need.”

Namjoon wasn’t stupid; he had seen Jimin’s look and had recognized how his pupils had dilated. His muscles tensed again. “Are you sure you’re not trying something? Forgetting my clothes on purpose? Is that what you’re after? Fucking a hybrid?”

He latched onto the first thing that seemed to explain Jimin’s kindness. People were mostly after money. And the rest of them were after sex or similar entertainment.

“I have to warn you, though. You know that cat penises are barbed? Mine is just like that. I would hurt you in a way you’d never recover from. And if you’re trying to drug and rape me you have no idea how much strength I have, I’d go feral before you would even get to undress me!” He was totally bullshitting, not about the cat penis stuff, that one was true, but his private parts were entirely human. He held onto the towel more tightly to make sure it couldn’t fall and call out his bluff. His stomach started cramping again, this time not because of food but because of nerves. He could feel cold sweat on his now warm skin at the thought of having been so naive to take a shower like that without any precautions.

“No!“ Jimin felt like his heart dropped. “I am so sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. It is really not what I was trying...I just...was.“ He sighed, rubbing over his face in a desperate manner. Leave it to Jimin to fuck it all over in a matter of seconds. “You're really handsome, Namjoon. And I am really sorry. I am so embarrassed.“ He bit his lip and averted his gaze, feeling so out of place right now. He would never hurt someone like that but of course he had to stumble over his own stupidity. “The soup will be finished in a bit. I'll get you some clothes, then you can eat.“ He tried a smile and carefully got around the couch to get to the hallway without making the other uncomfortable. He had prepared everything anyways. The fire was lit, the table was set, and he had even placed a few cushions and blankets where Namjoon could sit to feel more comfortable. “I won't bother you. You can eat and warm yourself up here, just like I promised.“

Jimin reacted so shocked, almost hurt that Namjoon felt bad for entirely different reasons now. He had wiped the smile off the younger’s face so permanently that it felt like there was something wrong. He had jumped to conclusions just by one look and instead of being flattered, fear and his bitter past had clouded his judgement. He stood there, waiting for Jimin to return with his clothes. The other couldn’t even look at him anymore, probably too worried that Namjoon would misunderstand again and gave him the clothes before trying to turn away. Namjoon quickly held him back. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, apologetic and laced with shame. “I didn’t want to… to ruin this. I knew you were looking forward to the company, weren’t you? I’ll try to be a little more trusting, okay? I just have one condition before. Can I..” He cleared his throat “Would you let me sniff you?”

“It was my fault, please don't apologize. I told you I'm not a good speaker. It won't happen again.“ Jimin's voice sounded quiet and unsure, but he nodded at Namjoon's request anyways. 

Namjoon kept his grip on Jimin’s elbow light but secure as he leaned in. Closing his eyes, he pressed his nose against Jimin’s pulse point where the skin was thin and delicate and Jimin’s natural scent was strongest. The hybrid inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a second to savor the scent like a sommelier would savior a special kind of wine that he had the opportunity to taste for the first time. Jimin smelled sweet and a little spicy, like licorice root and aniseed. It was warm and comforting and Namjoon liked it immediately.

“So… he brought a little distance between them, just a few inches before pushing a little, “You think I’m handsome?” Jimin’s cheeks blushed but there were no edges to his smell, no bitterness or wrongness that indicated that Jimin was planning to be reckless or greedy or cruel. Just a little tinge of acridness that came from shame. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. I think you’re quite good looking too. For a human.”

Jimin had to admit that he liked it way too much already, the feel of his whiskers tickling him and how he leaned into him. He took a deep breath to recollect himself. “T-thank you,” Jimin said quietly, still feeling a tad awkward how their nice “getting to know each other” had been ruined by him and Namjoon’s penis talk.

He shifted, looking up at him, because the hybrid was still holding onto him as if he was waiting for something. “I...I’ll finish the soup.” He hastily spoke up and turned on his heel, shuffling back into the kitchen, where he could finally escape the hybrid’s gaze. Jimin left Namjoon the space while getting ready and dressed again (thank god, Jimin loved oversize clothing), while he himself got lost in his thoughts. He really needed to watch his mouth and yet, he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he felt like his mouth and brain were wired wrongly. It happened one too many times that the wrong things came out, although they were true. Jimin looked over his shoulder to where Namjoon got comfortable on the floor, fluffing up a cushion. He had seen humans being in relationships with hybrids before, but it was still not as accepted as it should be, because most people held hybrids as a pet or an assistant for cleaning or whatever work they needed them for. Jimin thought it was just slavery, nothing else - because sometimes they didn’t even pay them. Then he thought about Yoongi, who had gotten Jungkook from a shelter. A pika hybrid, that Jimin loved dearly and loved to visit as much as he could. They loved each other and Jimin had never minded it, despite their differences it was the perfect arrangement for them. And Yoongi was the safest place for Jungkook to be. He smiled as he thought of the pairing, making a mental note to call them soon. Jimin took the plates and carefully walked over to where Namjoon was waiting, placing the one with the most chicken in it right in front of the hybrid. Keeping a bit of distance between them, Jimin sat on the couch, hoping that Namjoon didn’t feel threatened again. 

Namjoon’ gaze was fixated on the plate, so he saw a little too late that Jimin was walking away with his own plate in hand. Apparently the younger was trying to stick to what he had told him, about giving him space. Namjoon looked at the chicken again, then at Jimin and then sighed deeply. As delicious as his food might smell he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with a guilty conscious. “I’m sorry I reacted so harshly. Please don’t keep your distance like that. I’m over it. You’re not a bad person - or at least you don’t have any bad intentions towards me, and I’d be really surprised if you’d be hiding some dark secrets behind those soft eyes. You don't look the type. And now that I know for sure… look, it was a knee jerk reaction. I was in survival mode for so long I think I have to re-learn how to properly socialize again. I would appreciate it if we can just forgot what I said ten minutes ago and pretend it never happened. Okay?” In an attempt to lighten the mood and bring back the others smile he added jokingly, “Or are you scared I’ll steal your food? If yes I can tell you that a couch won’t keep me, so you better come here so you don’t get scratches on your nice leather.”

Jimin looked a little confused at first, but the warmth that spread through him at the prospect of Namjoon forgiving him was making him smile again. “So, you’re not mad anymore?” He asked just to be sure, waiting until Namjoon nodded. Jimin came closer again, sitting down right by the fire with the hybrid. He watched the other dive into the food hungrily and took a spoonful himself, humming at the taste. Jimin was only halfway done, when Namjoon was already asking for a second plate. He just shrugged his shoulders and told him that they didn’t make a full pot of chicken soup for nothing. It made Jimin smile to see Namjoon so happy as he jumped up to get more, and seeing the hybrid relax a little more in his presence. “Why did you have to be in survival mode?” Jimin asked after a while, curious to know more about the soft-looking bobcat. “You said you’ve been outside for three weeks?”

The chicken was heavenly and Namjoon moaned in delight. He had to fight hard against his instinct to swallow it all down as quickly as possible so he chew very carefully to make sure he wouldn’t get sick and could savor the taste as long as possible. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was just…scared. If anything, I should be flattered that you think I’m attractive it’s just been my fear warping it into something negative because of what…what I’ve heard. Or seen. I know now that you’re harmless. My nose doesn’t lie. You can’t hide your smell unless you’re wearing cologne or perfume to cover it and you’re not wearing any. So... it’s fine. For whatever reason you’re really just a nice person caring for others without wanting anything back. I still need to wrap my head around that, but I’ll manage. And I’m sure it’ll sink in quicker if I could get.. another plate of soup...maybe?” He gave Jimin a careful smile, hoping the other wouldn’t be offended by his greediness. While Jimin filled his plate again he decided that some honesty was the least he could give to pay the other back. “Well I said I was three weeks in your neighbourhood not out in total. Believe me though even three weeks outside in the cold would make you go into survival mode. I.. didn’t have any food before you. I had to try and get what was left on apple trees or private trash cans. The supermarket ones are too out the open to be safe. And.. you know that if a hybrid gets caught that they are locked up? And... that might even be better than freezing to death in the streets but... there’s... I should... the police is looking for me. I’m not some cute little house cat or soft purebred bunny to be petted and shown off. I think... I’m... I’m pretty sure they would put me down if they got their hands on me.” His hand started to tremble when he remembered their hands on him, the metal collar cold on his neck as they tried to lock it and the sheer, cold, pure fear that ran through his veins like ice because he knew that he would be helpless if they managed to pull through, that they could shock him or render him unconscious or simply kill him just by pressing a button.

A shiver ran down his spine and Jimin blinked at Namjoon, feeling absolutely speechless. Even though he had heard about the cruelty against some hybrids before, he still couldn’t imagine it and seeing his hybrid being affected like this, trying to make it through the cold winter without freezing to death.  

“You can stay here.” The words were out quickly, before Jimin could even think about them - but he didn’t regret it. “You can stay in my home. I got enough room and if you’re inside...at least for the winter, you’ll survive. No one can find you here.” He felt a little breathless, as his heartbeat quickened at the thought of hiding away a hybrid and going against the law like that.  

Namjoon whipped around, staring at Jimin in total disbelief. “W...what? You want me to.. what?” He blinked, thinking he might have misheard. It was one thing to feed someone soup but letting him stay here for the winter? If someone noticed, if someone called the police then Jimin would be in trouble just as much because hiding a police-wanted predator wouldn’t be taken lightly. Nonetheless hope bloomed in his chest and the thought of having a bed and warmth and food without having to worry about how he would make the next day or survive until next week had him tearing up against his will. “You… you would do that? For real?” He turned his head away in shame as the first few tears begin to fall. “You’re not.. toying with me, are you?” What was worse than being hopeless was being teased with what you were so dearly longing for just for it to be taken away when you reached out for it. 

Jimin gasped quietly, when he saw the tears in his eyes and shifted closer to him. Very slowly and with shaking hands, Jimin reached out for him, cupping his cheek lightly to make him look up. “I would, yes,” Jimin smiled, soothing over his cheek to wipe away a tear, “You can take the time and figure out what you want. I can help you with anything you need then. But promise me a little something, will you. Just keep your head low and be careful. My neighbors know it’s just me living here and if they see someone running around in my house while I’m at work…” He sighed, “I want you to be safe and you deserve a warm place to sleep.” 

Namjoon leaned in a little more until he could feel Jimin’s warmth. He hadn’t been that close to someone in a while but Jimin’s hands on him felt so nice and comforting and he wanted to say thank you, but he wasn’t sure he would find enough words for it. He rubbed his head against Jimin’s shoulder like the big cat he was before pulling the younger into a hesitant hug. He wasn’t good with this. But he wanted to be. 

Because Jimin was lonely and he was lost and so maybe they could make it work so that both of them would get a little taste of happiness. 

They stayed like this for a little while until Namjoon trusted his voice again. “I would have licked you out of gratefulness, but I fear it would have made you smell like chicken soup, so I’ll do it another time when I didn’t had dinner right before.” 

Jimin was surprised at the sudden intimacy, but he slowly wrapped his arms around the hybrid, carefully holding him close while he was hiding against his shoulder. He laughed at what Namjoon said, scratching him behind his ears out of instincts - just like he always did it when Jungkook visited. “This hug is nice as well,” The human pulled back lightly and wiped over Namjoon’s cheeks, careful not to hurt his whiskers. “What kind of bed do you need to feel comfortable to sleep?” Jimin asked and chuckled, “Will be the couch enough for now? I can get some more blankets if you like to build yourself something comfortable. I’m not really sure what your kind likes.” 

A pleasant shiver run through him when Jimin scratched his ears like that. They were very sensitive and so it was easy to get a reaction out of him whenever they were touched. He laughed, low and rumbly at Jimin’s question. “I’ve slept on the floor most of the time. I can basically sleep anywhere. Haven’t you seen videos about cats? No matter how strange the place or situation, we can fall asleep there. So, you don’t have to worry, give me a cushion and a blanket if you have one to spare and I’ll be happy.” 

"So, Yoongi is a cat," Jimin mumbled to himself, chuckling at the thought of his friend being able to sleep basically anywhere - just like a cat. Jimin got up and took the plates with him to put them into the dishwasher, after that he walked upstairs to get a few more cushions and blankets out of the box by his bed where he had stored the extra sheets. His heart ached painfully at the thought of who they were meant to be for, but he quickly shook himself out of it and brought them to Namjoon. 

"Do you think that will be enough to get comfortable," Jimin was barely able to peak over the amount of fluffiness in his arms. 

“If I don’t choke under their fluffiness then yes, I’ll sleep most comfortably,” Namjoon answered with a laugh and then cocked his head. “Does this mean you’re going to sleep already?” It was dark outside, but he wasn’t feeling tired at all, there were still too many emotions inside of him. He felt like someone had given him (and his opinion on humans) a good shake. When he took the blankets from Jimin he froze in place, burying his nose in them to find out what exactly was smelling so strange about them. When he raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed. “Did you have a hybrid before me living with you?” 

"Huh?" Jimin stood clueless for a moment before he caught up to what Namjoon said. "Oh, it's probably Jungkook that you smell. He loves playing with blankets when he visits me." He was getting a little nervous, hoping that Namjoon wasn't fearing him again or thought he was lying. "He is with a close friend of mine: Yoongi. When they got time and visit me, we always build blanket forts together. He is a pika, so he loves to be all fluffed up." Jimin laughed at the fond memory that came back to him, "Once Yoongi told me how he stacked hay and flowers in their bed, and he came back home to Jungkook being happy about keeping them warm in winter. Yoongi had to buy a new mattress, because the other was ruined." He shrugged his shoulders, "Well, he could have gotten it cleaned but he is too lazy for this. Now he hangs up little flowers on the wall, so Jungkook can still feel like he's cuddled up in hayflowers." 

Namjoon nodded absentmindedly. He had been torn between thinking he was smelling a bunny and a hamster so a pika made perfect sense. However the rest of Jimin’s speech confused him properly. “You mean Yoongi lets his hybrid run around unattended? Like… he’s not kept in a cage? And they are… sharing a bedroom? Together?” Whenever one of them had been let out of their cages in his owners private zoo there had always been a leash or harness put on them. He was getting dizzy thinking about what Jimin had just told him because it sounded almost as if… 

“Are they together?” He looked at Jimin totally dumbfounded. 

"They love each other, yes. Wouldn't that be weird if you let your partner be in a cage? Well, I mean whatever suits you best but...," Jimin started to fluff up a few cushions, placing them onto the couch, "They are happily together. If you want to, I can introduce you to them one day. I know it's still not widely accepted a human-hybrid relationship but... if it's love then why question it? I don't think love really cares about how you look like or what kind of race you are. And when you see them, you will notice it, too." Jimin's eyes began to shine as he talked more and more about the relationship between them. He was just so fond of them, aching to have a love like that one day.  

“Love?” It sounded strange speaking it aloud while Jimin seemed to be totally fine with it Namjoon had a hard time imagining it. Humans being nice to a hybrid out of pity for their situation had been confusing enough but hearing that there were people having relationships with their ‘pets’ was entirely new to him. “So Jungkook.. loves him back. He’s not..” He didn’t want to speak it out after the mess he had created before when he had implied that Jimin was trying to take advantage of him. He didn’t judge hybrids for sleeping with humans to stay alive. They all did what they had to keep breathing. Though a pika making a nest in a humans bedroom, that didn’t sound like abuse to him. Rather like comfort, like living together. “And you.. you think you could do that too? Love a hybrid?” He shook his head, “You’re a strange human, Jimin.” 

"And you're a strange hybrid," Jimin raised an eyebrow cheekily, before he turned a little more serious and took the blankets out of Namjoon's arms to place them down. The hybrid had been standing there, speechless, for a while now without moving. 

"I've been hurt by humans just like you." He said and folded the blanket nicely, before sitting down and motioning for Namjoon to do the same. "Why do you think I live alone in a big house like this? Does it look like it was supposed to be a single-apartment? But I don't know, Namjoon. If I fall in love, I will - no matter what the other person's features may be like. In the end, does it really matter?" He pulled his legs in to sit a little more comfortably. "So, do you think you could ever love a human?" 

“Well at least you haven’t been raised in a cage. Or kept on a leash and shown off to other people like some kind of pet. I was still lucky though that my owner liked what was dangerous about me, so I wasn’t declawed or anything. And that he saw us as animals not worthy to entertain him in his bedroom.” He wasn’t sure why it spilled out of him so easily now when he never had talked to anyone about it before. Probably because he wanted Jimin to understand why he acted while he did and why learning all those new things came as a such a surprise to him. “I’m still sorry for you. No one should leave alone or get his heart broken. Especially not someone as nice as you.” He shrugged his shoulders at Jimin’s question. “If you had asked me a few days ago I would ´have answered with ‘No’, but considering that apparently not all humans are cruel, hateful creatures I guess I might? I’m just not really sure how it would work.” 

"I am sorry, I didn't want to brush your experience off as it was the same than my own hurt. I can't even imagine the pain you must have been through and I am so sorry this happened to you. I really am. It's the least I can give back to you, from what they stole to you to give you a place to feel home now." Jimin pulled a little at one of the blankets to push his feet under it to keep them warm. "What do you mean? How love works?" He shifted a little closer to Namjoon until he could reach him, "You don't have to understand it, just feel it when it happens." He pointed at the hybrid's chest, right where his heart was and placed his hand there. "You'll feel it in your heart, here. Like a pull maybe and it will pump like crazy when that someone is close. Maybe you also feel shivers and just the deep need to be close to them and care for them, more than you would for yourself. Maybe your hybrid instincts will go crazy too?" Jimin smiled brightly, "Like being very protected." He pulled his hand back, when he got reminded about what Namjoon told him earlier though and quickly added, "Though your sexual needs...with a human and your..." He bit his lip, "That could be complicated, I guess." 

Namjoon blushed deeply when Jimin reminded him of his lie. “Oh, you mean…uhm, no, that wouldn’t be a problem I just... I lied to protect myself. I’m 100% human down there. Not that it matters I mean… I was talking about the love itself. It’s supposed to be built on trust and affection and closeness and all that and I guess I’m a little bad at that as I didn’t have any experience yet. I probably wouldn’t be a good partner. And… I don’t know it feels a little strange to think about being with someone. Letting someone so close to your heart...” He swallowed hard as a wave of longing hit him. He had dreamt about not being alone in the zoo of course where technically he hadn’t been alone with all those other hybrids around, but they had all been too scared or traumatized to form any kind of bonding. And when he had escaped after his owners death finding love hadn’t been exactly on top of his priority list. But now, sitting with Jimin and talking about it he realized that it was something that he definitely wanted. His voice sounded shy and vulnerable when he asked, quietly, as if it was a sacrilege to voice that thought, “You think someone could love me? Just…like I am?”  

“Absolutely,” It came out in a whisper and so easily over his lips as he got lost in the hybrid’s eyes that were full of hope, shining like a thousand stars. “You’ll see,” Jimin pushed a string of hair out of Namjoon’s face, softly soothing over his ears. “From what I’ve gotten to know about you until now, I know you’re a catch. Definitely. And you’ll be happy, I promise.”  

It took him by surprise how much adoration he saw in Jimin’s eyes. They were basically strangers and yet Jimin’s heart was big enough to find room for him. Somehow it didn’t seem that impossible to find happiness and love with Jimin by his side. 

“Yeah, I might,” He answered before leaning in and finally giving Jimin the cat kiss he deserved.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you enjoyed our second little Winter Story this year! And we hope you enjoyed all of our fics that we posted this year! Cat and I are already working hard to give you even more next year :) Thank you for being such kind and lovely readers! Every comment, every heart or Kudos or Like and Reblog made our day! Thank you for supporting me and Cat. THANK YOU!

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