#and dream just sighs asks for the lights to be dimmed pulls out the laser pointer from his pocket and points it next to him

[spacemilkbag]

the way dream will bring george on the stage will be by him having one of those laser pointers for george to follow, something like this:

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Fluff 11 or Random 23? 🥰

Hello my wonderful darling human! I am eternally sorry I took so long to get this to you. I was writing a test and then I had a headache and there was a looottt going on but I hope you'll forgive me and the fic will make up for it! I managed to get both into this fic (kind of). I edited one a bit.

It is a surprise, to me and probs you, that I didn't write Jercy for this??? I know I'm dying from the shock too. But here you go my love!

Masterlist for more crackships and other stuff

Fluff 11: “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Random 23:   “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

Piper McLean is buzzing with energy, chaotic, vibrant energy. It's like an electric beat in her veins and she can't help but bounce with it. Today she is finally going to tell her best friend of four years, finally going to admit what everyone else already knew. A shuffling from behind her catches her flitting attention.

"Hello Miss McQueen," Brown curls and a troublemaker's grin step into her bedroom.

"Hello Leo," She sighs softly, hugging him.

"How are you and why do you look like your fight or flight instinct has been activated?"

"I'm gonna do it." She took a deep breath, "I'm gonna tell her today."

Those warm brown eyes widen, "Really?"

"Yes." Her nod is firm, "I can't keep dancing around it and I need to know."

The grin she is met with could make fires dim with its brightness, "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you," She squeezes her friend, pouring all her gratitude into the hug.

"And hey," He pulls back to look into her, "It's gonna be amazing."

She doesn't let him see her tears of hope and gratefulness.

An hour later she pulls up to a house in a quiet neighborhood and disrupts the peace with the loud hoot of her car.

"Ay yo WiseGirl," She bellows, "If you don't get your cute butt out here I'm not getting you taco bell on the way home."

There is a crash from inside and then the door is flinging open and blonde curls are flying towards her car.

"How dare you bribe me with taco bell!" Annabeth Chase gasps, flopping into the front seat with a glare.

Piper smiles innocently, "When I think of another way to drag you from your books I'll stop."

Her friend huffs, "How do you even know I was working?"

"Let's see," She holds up her fingers to count, "I'm one of your two best friends and Percy is with Jason so that rules out him. It's a Saturday afternoon which means you'll be doing next week's work because you finished last week's stuff yesterday night. I know you're not hanging with you family because you told me yesterday theyre going to the park. Oh and you have pen streaks on your fingers."

"I hate you."

"Lies and propaganda," She grins and then they're hugging each other.

"So what are we doing today?"

"We," Piper wiggles her eyebrows, "Are going laser tagging."

"Hell yes!" Annabeth squeals, high fiving her friend.

"Figured you'd enjoy it. You like any opportunity to pin me down."

"You know it McLean."

They arrive at LaserTaser some minutes later and Annabeth clambers out of the car, racing towards the building.

Piper sucks in a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves.

"You coming BeautyQueen?"

And then she's running after her friend, determined to have a goodtime.

"Hi," They smile at the front desk employee and friend.

"You two are back here?" Nico di Angelo sighs, but they can see the twinkle in his black eyes.

"What can we say Di Angelo," She smirks, "We can't get enough of your charming personality."

He snorts and rings up their request, "More like the only way you can play handsy without getting in trouble."

Piper goes bright red and she looks down, unaware of Annabeth's ruby ears and cheeky smile.

"You know where everything is. Try not to jump through a nonexistent window again."

"That was one time Nico," Annabeth groans, "How was I supposed to know the glass I was seeing was a reflection of water?"

"Maybe," He looks at her dramatically, "Just maybe we can feel before we jump?"

Piper laughs as her friend flips him the bird and stalks off.

"Goodluck Miss McLean!" He smiles, "She's going to give you hell today."

"What's new?" The sparkle in her eyes reflects rainbows as she turns away.

"Are you coming Pipes? Or you just gonna chat up MagicBoy over there?"

"You jealous Chase?"

"I'm gay!" Nico yells.

"Shut up both of you and let's do this."

Pipee waves goodbye to their little Italian friend and joins Annabeth by the gear station. Finally they're all set up and ready to annihilate one another.

"You look delicious WiseGirl," She surveys her friend, distressed Jean-shorts and her white crop top almost completely covered by the heavy vests they have to wear. But it's the determined gleam in her grey eyes and the escaping blonde curls tied in an I-mean-business ponytail that Piper is really focusing on.

Annabeth sets those intimidating storms on her, "I hope you're ready to lose."

"I'm ready to comfort you when you do."

"As if," Her friend takes one step closer.

"Watch me Chase," She mirrors her.

"Oh I plan to," They're so close now those blonde curls are brushing against her cheeks.

"Scared?"

"Only in your dreams." She scoffs.

"That's not all you're doing in my dreams."

Annabeth barks out a laugh, "Kinky bitch. Are you flirting with me right now?"

"You finally noticed?"

"We do not have time for this BeautyQueen."

"Hey you two," Nico shouts from the otherside of the room, "Either make out or start playing. I have other customers waiting."

"Shut up Di Angelo," They both yell. And then they slip into the dark room, put on their 3D glasses and press the giant red button that starts the game.

"Goodluck McLean," Annabeth's smile is wicked.

"Same to you."

The room plunges into complete blackness before neon lights slowly flicker on. The room is tilting and projecting in front of Piper's eyes as she attempts to make her way to a safer spot. Playing normal laser tag is a feat in itself but playing 3D tag, gods she always comes out feeling like she stepped onto Venus.

A shuffling from some way away grabs her attention and she slowly, cautiously tiptoes towards the sound. She spots a dark figure running towards a barrel and with a secret smile aims her gun and shoots.

The beeping goes off and a long string of curse words follow.

"Rethinking your strategy WiseGirl?"

"I'm going to get you for that," Is the snarky reply.

Piper quickly makes her way to the little hut on the far side of the room while her opponent is indisposed. She has about thirty seconds before Annabeth can participate again. Slamming into the wood that looked much further away than it was she bites down a scream and crouches under the low roof. She can hear her friend on the other side stalking through various boxes and barrels, so she takes a deep breath and let's down her guard. Her shoulder is throbbing and she knows she's going home with yet another bruise from this cursed place. Why on earth do they insist on coming here without padding?

She can feel a presence from behind her and before she can react her vest is beeping, red lights flashing all over it.

"Dammit Chase!"

"Not my fault you were daydreaming."

"I was actually trying to see how bad my bruise was.

"Aw poor baby," Piper can hear her friend's pout and her heart skips a beat.

"Did you smack into the hut again?"

She frowns, "This is not funny. My shoulder is permanently blue."

"Come here you darling thing."

"How do I know you're not gonna shoot?"

"You're bulletproof right now, but I promise I won't."

Piper mulls it over for a second before getting up from her cramped position and feeling her way to her friend. Her hand knocks into an arm and she stops.

"Lets see?"

She pulls her shirt-sleeve down, and shuffles into the dim light on a nearby wall.

"Theres nothing there but it does look a little red." Annabeth observes, brushing her fingers over the area.

Piper winces, more from cold fingers rather than pain but her friend mistakes it.

"Sorry," The blonde mutters, "Here, I'll kiss it better."

And then Annabeth's lips are brushing against her shoulder and Piper can't help but inhale sharply. Her knees go weak as she falls back against the wall.

"You okay there BeautyQueen?" Blonde brows furrow, looking down at her.

"Fine," She manages to choke out.

They stare at each other, eyes like thunderstorms and chocolate opals. The air is static, breathless with anticipation. It's now or never.

"Annabeth I—" Piper swallows.

Her vest makes a loud beep and peals of laughter surround her.

"Shouldn't have let your guard down McLean."

Piper growls and pulls at her friend's hand before she can walk away. She swops their positions, Annabeth's back now against the wall, and their bodies flush against each other.

"Can't handle losing?" The blonde smirks.

"Annabeth Chase," She breathes, "I've been wanting to say this since we were thirteen and now that I've worked up the courage I am not letting a stupid laser tag game ruin that."

A perfect brow raises slightly but she doesn't stop her.

"I like you. Like like you like you. Actually I may love you but we don't have to discuss that right now. I'm totally okay staying friends but I needed you to know. It was eating me up inside." She takes a deep breath and stepped back. "Okay we can go back to the game now just had to get that off my chest."

"Are you done?" A smirk plays at her friend's lips.

"What do you mean am I done? I just confessed my love for you and you're gonna ask me if I'm done? How about 'oh Piper I feel the same way.' Or 'no ew Piper I don't want to date you.' Are you done? Ugh why do I even like you?"

"Shut up BeautyQueen." Annabeth laughs.

And then she cups Piper's cheek and pulls their faces together.

Those grey eyes flash with amusement, hope, wonder, love. "I like like you too."

Their lips meet and Piper McLean knows she never wants to go laser tagging with someone else ever again.

Suddenly a vest lights up red and a robotic voice says "Game Over. Wise Girl wins.

"Fucking dick!" She nips Annabeth's lip.

"I don't lose."

"Funny I feel like the winner today."

"I think we both are."

They smile into each other and the stars dance home.

[ahgaseforeternity]

Jackson’s Concert part 1

(A tad long, but worth it)

THE MUSIC WAS EUPHORIC AS YOU STOOD UNDERNEATH the stadium lights that were flashing bright. Laser beams of all different colors danced throughout the giant arena, filled with fans dancing to the insane beat. You weren't going to come tonight, but in the end, your heart couldn't help it.

You swayed along with the crowd, raising your hands high up in the air. This song, you knew it by heart.

But, of course you did. It was about you. He had written it about you.

That thought brought you back down to earth. From where you stood amongst the crowd, it was amazing that Jackson hadn't seen you yet. You were right there in front of him. You could reach your hand out and touch the stage if you wanted to. The screaming fans surrounding you seemed to be doing it.

You kept your hands to yourself though. You knew you shouldn't be here, but it had been a year since you last saw him.

Jackson and you didn't keep in contact much, if at all. Even though you thought about him everyday since. The only way you knew what was going on was through his Instagram and your family friend, Julia, who happened to be part of Team Wang. That's actually how Jackson and you met.

Julia had told you about this really amazing, funny guy she knew and thought he would be perfect for you, since you had just gotten out of a very, very bad relationship with some wannabe, washed up actor. You remember thinking 'what the heck?' You had nothing to lose.

Oh, how you had been wrong.

You pulled your phone out, trying hard to hold on to it. The girls behind you had been pushing and pushing just to get closer. had held your ground, but you did not want to accidentally drop your phone. There was no way you would get it back in one piece with everyone dancing and jumping around.

Your fingers scanned your scene and you tapped the first name on your messenger.

When he's done singing On The Rocks, meet me just outside the backstage doors. Give the guards my name, they know you'll be coming back.

You bit your lip. You felt your heart speed up. Were you really doing this? You weren't going to actually see Jackson, there was no way. That was the only reason you took the tickets Julia offered. Wasn't it? When Julia had told you Jackson would be coming to New York City for part of his world tour, you didn't know what to think.

That last time you heard from him, he'd been in China. He had been building up his company more.

The same company he had launched not too long after you broke up. You noticed that he went with your color ideas for the bright, neon beanies. Jackson loved his hats, and he looked damn good in them. He was wearing one now that was drenched from him dumping a water bottle on himself. He threw it into the raving crowd. You knew out there some fan was freaking out over being able to have something so simple as Jackson Wang's water bottle.

Where you had gotten the full thing, and still walked away. It brought fresh tears to your eyes.

You hurried and tried to squeeze your way through the swooning fans, making your way towards the backstage doors.

Cement walls with different bands and singers lined the walls as you drew up to two beefy looking security guards. You gave them your I.D and they nodded their heads in unison. You pushed through the door to utter chaos.

There were people running all which way, making sure those in the audience could have the best experience they ever possibly could. Jackson wouldn't want anything less. He'd always been that way.

Even with you.

You found a green, velvet couch and plopped yourself down so you were out of the way.

"Y/N? Y/N!"

You immediately jumped back up and awkwardly laughed as you took your friend in. Julia squealed as she wrapped her arms around you. You squeezed her back.

"Oh, Julia. I've missed you." You exclaimed into her ear. She squeezed you a little harder. "Oh, Y/N! I've missed you too! Oh my gosh, you look amazing. Jackson is going to DIE when he see's you."

You widened your eyes. "What?" Could she feel you shaking? You hoped not.

"Yeah, he has to see you! Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t give me that look. Are you telling me that the only reason you came tonight was to see me?" Julia was giving you that 'look' with her thick eyebrows lifted.

"Of course." You knew it was a lie.

Julia just shook her head at that. "Y/N, I love you and I have missed you, but there is no way I'm letting you leave tonight without your gorgeous ass being checked out by Mr. Wang himself. Besides, he asked me about you before we landed last night."

You felt your heart lurch. She couldn't be talking about Jackson. There was no way. You and him have hardly spoken. He couldn't have been asking about you.

"No, Julia there's no way. I came back here to just be with my best friend, okay? I don't need to see him. Besides, I don't want to ruin his night. He seemed to be having the time of his life out there." You stated, while Julia pulled you through the room that lead to a open hall way.

You could see the stairs that lead up to the stage. If Jackson came down them right now, he'd see you. You bit your lip against that thought. Julia tugged you into what seemed to be the refreshments room. Bottled water, fruits, yummy snacks were laid out on a long table.

"Do you want something to eat? We have plenty!" Julia asked.

There was no way you were going to be able to keep food down right now. Not with the major butterflies that were going on. You simply shook your head. Julia shrugged, picking up an apple, and bite into it.

You heard someone yelling Julia's name. She groaned in annoyance. Same ole' Julia it seemed.

She placed the apple in your hand. "Hold this for me, I'll be right back! Just stay here." She motioned with her hands. You watched her scurry out the door.

You sighed. This had been a bad idea. You might've thought coming back here had nothing to do with Jackson, but in your heart you knew you'd be kidding yourself. You wanted to see him, but what would you even say?

Hey Jackson, looking good.

Oh, Jackson, fancy meeting you back here.

Jackson, I still love you, do you still love me?

They all sounded terrifying. You placed Julia's apple on a napkin, and reached for a water bottle. It gave you something to focus on. You twisted the cap and gulped it. You lifted it from your lips to see you had drank about half. It wasn't doing anything for your nerves. You still felt like your skin was going to explode. You drank some more.

As you dropped the now empty bottle you turned to throw it in the trash that was just by the door. Just as the bottle was in the air, someone appeared just in front of it. The bottle hit them square in the chest. Thank goodness it was empty. You have always had terrible aim.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I was just throwing it—.”

"Y/N?"

You stopped.

You hadn't realized. In the dim lighting of the room, you hadn't recognized the piercing eyes, the silky hair that looked to be drenched with sweat. Jackson was staring at you like he was seeing a ghost. It had only been a year, but still. Being this close to him again, it sucked the air out of you. Jackson seemed to have that power with him. Whenever he entered a room, every eye was drawn to him.

When you were together though, he only had eyes for you.

Those very eyes were boring into yours. His rose bud lips were parted. Gosh, his perfect lips.

"What— Y/N, what are you doing here?"

His voice seemed to snap you from the trance his lips had on you. The thought made you bite your own. You watched his hands fist at his sides, holding the beanie he had been wearing.

"I um, I came to see the show. Oh, and Julia."

"Julia?" Jackson seemed to confused.

"Yes. I promise she was just here, but someone called her name, then she left, giving me her apple and told me just to stay here, so I did. I grabbed a water, I hope that's okay. Their your waters right? Gosh, I'm sorry." You were mumbling. You always mumbled when you were nervous, and right now you were a wreck.

Jackson looked down at his booted feet. He bent down and picked up the water bottle that you meant to throw away. You could see your lipstick around the rim of it. Jackson narrowed his eyes. "This water bottle?"

"Uh, yes. I meant to throw it in the garbage, but you know me, zero aiming skills." You huffed out with a nervous laugh.

Oh gosh, you were being ridiculous. This wasn't going the way you had imagined. Jackson clenched the bottle in his hand, as his eyes scanned you from top to bottom. Your face felt like it was on fire.

You could see the memories playing out in his eyes. He was thinking about all the times you laughed together. All the times you stayed in and cooked dinner together because it was better than going out. All the times you had said his name into the night, and all the times he had said yours.

You had loved each other. He had once told you he dreamed of having a love just like his parents, and you always wondered if someday you'd have that. Now, now that was all ruined. That dream had to of been flushed down the drain.

"I thought you never wanted to see me again?" Jackson stated, taking one step towards you.

You parted your lips in surprise at the words that were so close to the ones you had yelled at him a year ago. You had told him you never wanted to see him again. That whatever you had, was over. You had meant them then. You hadn't wanted to see him again. Jackson needed to focus on his career. You knew that. His manager knew that. Jackson was the only one that didn't.

That's when you made the decision. He had to focus on it, and he couldn't be tied down. That's what you were. You were a tither, keeping him from chasing his dreams. So you cut the tie.

"Yeah, those words were a little harsh huh?" You tried to laugh through your wince. His face was steel. You gripped your purse that was over your shoulder, fumbling the chain.

"You know what? I'll just go, yeah, that'd probably be best." You made your way for the door, but found yourself being stopped by a warm hand that was wrapped around your wrist. You gasped at Jackson's contact.

You barely had time to turn around as he pulled you down the hall into a different room. This room was darker, and had another couch. You saw Jackson's favorite pair of sneaks, and knew this had to be his room, or more over, the main entertainers room.

He turned around to shut the door, and you heard it click closed. Jackson locked you in with him. You felt your skin starting to prickle where his fingers still held your wrist. His eyes met yours then.

"Why, Y/N? Why the hell are you here? Are you here to just torture me? Are you here to rub your happy life in my face?" Jackson looked livid.

What was he talking about? Your happy life? You weren't happy. You hadn't been this whole year.

"What are you talking about Jackson? I didn't come here to rub anything in your face. I just came to see a friend, that's it." You lied. You had to lie. You knew the odds were high of running into him here, but you weren't here to rub anything in his face, you only just had to see him. Possibly one last time.

He gripped your shoulders roughly, and pushed you back, until you were against the far wall. You gasped in surprise, as your feet stumbled. He was so close, you could smell him. He didn’t smell like sweat. He smelled like home.

You watched his eyes soften as he stared at you.

"A friend? I used to be your friend too, remember."

Of course you remembered. He was your best friend. He knew you better than you knew yourself. He was always there, even on those days he was so busy, he still made time for you.

That's why you had to end things.

"Of course. You'll always be my friend Jackson." You uttered. It wasn't a complete lie. Jackson would always matter to you, but you didn't want to just be his friend. You never have.

His eyes hardened again. "We've barely even talked, Y/N. It's been a year. A year, and I hear nothing, nothing from you."

You could feel your skin burning. "Well, what would you have wanted me to say Jacks? That I hope you're doing well? Asking how China is, or your sister? I didn't want to know those things."

"Why?"

"Because Jackson..." You groaned.

"Because why?!" He gripped your shoulders harder.

"Because I missed you enough already, okay!" You shouted against him. His eyes widened at your outburst. You melted against the wall in defeat.

"I didn't ever reach out to you because I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know how well things were going. I know that's selfish. I know it's selfish for me to even come here, but I had to Jackson. I had to see you just at least once." Your voice was full of desperation. You didn't care.

"You looked amazing up there. They love you, Jackson. It's everything you ever wanted."

His eyes were hazy as they bore into yours. "Not everything."

You sighed at his words. His eyes drifted to your lips then. His stare sent bolts of lightning through your veins. It was making you shiver.

A knock sounded at the door, causing you both to jump.

"Jackson! The cars ready for you." Someone stated through the door.

"Okay, thanks," was all Jackson said back. You both listened as the feet retreated. He stumbled away from you, lifting his burning touch from your shoulders. You missed that touch.

"Where are you staying?"

He met your eyes again. He looked torn. You didn't blame him. Talking to him was opening up wounds for you too. Cuts that never truly healed.

"The Hyatt Centric in Times." He exclaimed. You simply nodded your head.

"Well, I'm sure you and your team are exhausted. I'll get going." You realized that your purse had fallen to the floor. It must've been when Jackson had knocked you backwards. You bent down to pick it up, and made for the door.

He didn't stop you this time. You almost wish he had. You felt so pathetic. You showed up to what? Bare your heart and soul to a man that didn't need you anymore? He had fans that adored him. He didn't need you to adore him. You let the tears fall freely, as you held your hand out and called for a taxi.

[quoth-the-sparrow]

Shot To The Heart (And You’re To Blame)

A Sanders Sides Fanfiction

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, guns and shooting (Though this is a laser tag game, but still) If I need to add anything, please let me know

Pairings: Prinxiety, Loceit

Description: The boys play laser tag and two of them decide to take a risk

Word Count: 1,321

You can also find the story here on ao3

Virgil let out a sigh as Patton parked the car. “Aw, come on kiddo, cheer up! This’ll be fun! A good bonding experience. Plus Logan and Roman are gonna meet us here too!” Patton looked over to see his best friend scowling.

“Ugh, just great, Princey is gonna be here? Well at least I’ll get to shoot him,” Virgil grumbled as he unbuckled and got out of the car. Patton followed suit and laughed.

“That’s the spirit, sorta! Let’s go inside, maybe they’re already here.”

Virgil reluctantly followed. Curse his inability to tell Patton no. He didn’t exactly love the idea of playing laser tag, but honestly any chance to one-up that gorgeous yet insufferable narcissist and he’d take it. A thought crossed his mind and he hurried to catch up.

“Hey Pat, is Dee coming too?”

Patton was already at the door at that point, holding it open. “Yeah, they’re right here!” He gestured inside to where Roman, Logan and Dee were standing by the counter, chatting about something or other.

Virgil’s gaze lingered on Roman despite himself. He was in dark jeans and that red and white jacket of his. He looked incredible, and Virgil couldn’t deny it. Anything Roman wore made him look incredible. “Seriously, someone that annoying has no right looking as good as he does.”

Almost as if he heard his thoughts, Roman turned to see Virgil staring. He grinned, striking a dramatic, elegant pose. Virgil rolled his eyes when Roman winked. “Like what you see, Hot Topic?”

Virgil glared, hoping the dim lighting in the building would hide his blush. He drew himself up to his full height (which was only a couple inches taller than Roman but still), smirked, and quipped “Aw, Princey, you think I’m hot.”

Roman sputtered in indignation, but Virgil ignored this, choosing to go over to Dmitri instead. The shorter boy was adjusting the trans pride pin on his shirt. “Hey Dee. So Patton roped you guys into this too, huh?” Dmitri gave him a warm smile and hugged him.

“Yeah, but once I heard Logan was coming too, it didn’t take much else to convince me.” Dmitri gazed longingly at Logan and sighed. Logan remained blissfully unaware of this as he talked to Patton about some book he’d read, gesturing excitedly with his hands.

Virgil let out a low chuckle. “He’s still clueless as ever I see.”

Dmitri pouted, then raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at a spot somewhere behind Virgil. “Not nearly as clueless as you are, V.”

Virgil turned to see where Dee was looking at and saw Roman paying the person at the counter and shrugging off his jacket. He scowled again, steadfastly trying not to check Roman out. “Very funny, Dee. Don’t start that again; there’s no way we like each other.”

“Whatever you say. I still think I’m right, though.” Virgil sighed and gave Dmitri a playful shove.

“Come on you guys, we’re about to start! The first round is a short free-for-all, I think.” Patton said as he beckoned everyone to follow him. They were given vests and plastic guns. The employee assisting them was reciting all the rules in a monotonous voice.

Roman moved to stand right next to Virgil, nudging him. “Get ready to be absolutely destroyed, Emo Nightmare.”

“In your dreams, Princey.”

A bell sounded, and everyone rushed inside. Virgil found a good hiding spot and waited, sneaking shots at other players. He could hear Patton giggling, and then Roman called, “Where are you hiding, Doctor Gloom? Come out and face me!”

Virgil smirked as he peeked out to shoot at a girl passing by and was pleased to see her vest light up red.

“You gotta come find me, Princey!” Virgil spotted Roman and shot, but Roman dodged it. He let out a curse and sprinted to another spot before Roman could find him. He looked out and saw Roman dart around a corner.

Virgil smirked and followed him, careful to stay out of sight of the other players.

***

Dmitri ran up the stairs, preferring to take a higher vantage point. He glimpsed Patton being chased by another player, laughing. Virgil and Roman were taking shots at one another, no surprise there. Logan, however, was nowhere to be found. Just as he was about to take aim at another player, his vest lit up red.

“Damn it!” Dmitri turned, prepared to shoot the culprit back. He saw Logan running away, only stopping to shoot other players.

“Did you seriously just shoot me, Logan? I thought we were friends!” he called out, not really expecting a response. Logan turned, running backwards and grinning as he adjusted his glasses.

“That is the point of this game, is it not?” Logan called back, making Dmitri laugh.

“Alright, nerd, you wanna play like that, huh?” Dmitri made his way to where he’d seen Logan run off to, taking shots at other players along the way. It took him a bit but he finally saw Logan’s hiding spot.

“Perfect opportunity for an ambush.”

***

This was it. Time to show Roman up, see how he liked losing for a change. Another, more unexpected thought crossed his mind: “What if I did something else besides shoot him? What if Dee’s right and he does like me?” Virgil took a deep breath and glanced at the timer on the wall. Ten seconds left in this round. “Now or never, Sanders.”

Virgil snuck up behind Roman and grabbed him, shoving him against the wall. The other boy gasped in surprise but didn’t manage to say anything before Virgil kissed him. Roman, for his part, was so shocked by this turn of events that he dropped his gun. Virgil broke off the kiss, smirked at Roman’s stunned expression, shot him just a second before the buzzer sounded, and walked away.

***

Dmitri took a deep breath before moving to stand right in front of Logan. He was aiming at another person but lowered his plastic gun before he could shoot. “Dee, what are you-” he started to say, but was interrupted by Dmitri grabbing his tie and tugging him down so he could kiss him. Logan’s eyes widened in surprise, gun slipping out of his hand and clattering to the floor. Dmitri pulled away and shot Logan in the chest, his vest lighting up red as the buzzer sounded. Before Logan could say or do anything, Dmitri winked at him then walked away.

***

Virgil’s heart was pounding in his chest. He didn’t get too far away from Roman before he heard a voice call out “You fiend, get back here!” Virgil turned to see Roman running up to him.

“How dare you kiss me then walk away!” Roman seemed genuinely offended, and Virgil flinched inwardly.

“Listen, Princey, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Virgil said, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

It was Roman’s turn to smirk as he settled his hands on Virgil’s hips, pulling him close. “What makes you think I don’t want it to happen again?”

Virgil blushed fiercely, wrapping his arms around Roman’s shoulders. “Oh? If that’s the case, you gotta buy me dinner first.”

Roman laughed. “Hey, you kissed me first, shouldn’t you be the one buying me dinner?” The two walked out of the laser tag room holding hands, much to Patton’s delight.

***

Dmitri made it down the stairs and out of the room to see Patton flapping his hands excitedly. Virgil and Roman were laughing, hands intertwined. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Logan turning his gun and vest in at the counter.

“Hey, Lo.” Logan turned to face him, his face tinged with pink.

“Dmitri, I… wow.” Logan seemed nervous as he adjusted his tie. “I didn’t, um, what I mean to say is, will you go on a date with me tomorrow evening?”

Dee smiled and wrapped an arm around Logan’s waist. “I thought you’d never ask.”

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this story! Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Tell me what you think! If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my taglist, please let me know by sending me an ask. You can find me on ao3 at Storytelling_Sparrow. Thank you so much for your continued support!

Taglist: @theresneverenoughfandoms @galaxywitchwolf13 @magicallygrimmwiccan @daring-elm @creativity-killed-thekitten @007ardra @princeyssash @demigodnamedathena @khadij-al-kubra @im-shooting-straight @sawyer-saucee @gayzelley @it-me-the-phi @elfarmyenby @sparkedawg @ironwoman359 @today-only-happens-once @areyousirius-noheisdead @madly-handsome @milomeepit @princelogical @silversmith-91 @xxladystarlightxx @poisonedapples @romanamongthestars @ab-artist @ninjago2020 @anuninspiredpoet @justanormalfoot @gemini-the-kitsune-rp @urielthealienboio @queer-guineapig @aizawaisnotstraight

[eeveevie]

distractions

Deacon wakes up injured and confused after the Institute attack on the Castle. Good thing Madelyn is there to care for him, in more ways than one.

A/N: @gingerbreton​ prompted from this list and I... got very, very carried away. Merged it with an idea I had for another lingering prompt/idea. Obviously there is sexual content here. Yay!

Deacon x Madelyn Hardy (Agent Charmer)

4150 words (Under a cut for length and naughty-naughty) | Ao3

Deacon was an idiot.

But he knew that already. Had known that for years, not like it was a startling revelation that needed to come to him upon first waking up. And yet, that was the first clear thought he had when he regained consciousness—that he was a bona fide idiot.

Okay brain, but why?

He figured the best, first thing to do was to open his eyes and move but curiously, his limbs felt heavy and there was a lingering, metallic taste on his tongue—had he been drugged? Wouldn’t be the first time. His chest tightened in fear momentarily, thinking of Charmer and her safety. If he was indisposed, where was she? He groaned, trying to shift against the dull ache that radiated through his body, keeping him frozen.

“Oh no you don’t,” Charmer’s exasperated voice echoed nearby, close enough that whatever imagined worry had begun to stir in his mind instantly dissipated.

He fluttered open his eyes, wincing at the overhanging light. It was dim, but still too damn bright, especially without his shades. Instead, he glanced to look at her as she sat down on the edge of the bed he occupied. He wasn’t sure what he was protesting, but he wanted to speak, so he did. “Hmm yes I do.”

Charmer gave him an uncharacteristically stern look, one that brought back his earlier panic, or at least some concern. “Do you even remember what happened?” she asked in a whisper, and his heart stilled at the misty look in her eyes—she had been crying.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, grimacing at the pain created from his movements. “No?”

“Right. Okay,” she sighed, shifting so she could occupy more of the mattress, be closer to him. She leaned over, fluffing up the pillows under his head and shoulders, helping so he could sit up just a little, the blanket falling just enough for him to notice the mass of bandages covering various parts of his naked torso. Well—that explained a lot.

Charmer’s touch lingered along his shoulders, frown persistent as she continued to speak. “We were in the area when the distress call came over the Minutemen radio, barely made it to the Castle in time when Coursers and Gen-1 synths started relaying in.”

Bits and pieces of Deacon’s memory started to fall back into place, but it all seemed so hazy, like a wayward dream. Maybe he had a concussion, or whatever pain meds he’d likely been pumped full of had dulled everything away. He briefly remembered taking pop-shots from the Castle walls with some Minutemen, all while keeping a careful eye on their General in the courtyard below. She had stuck close to Preston near the radio tower, a goddamned force of nature with her laser rifle, firing in all directions. But the Institute’s teleportation relay gave the synths a clear advantage in the field.

“You pushed me and Preston out of the way of a grenade blast, shielded me from a Courser’s shot,” she hushed, tears threatening to spill over once again. It took a considerable amount of effort for him to lift one of his hands to rest on her waist, gripping the fabric of her faded green dress. “God, Deacon, there was so much blood, we—I—thought you were going to die right there in the middle of the fort.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, unsure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all. “That bad?”

“Yes,” her voice broke harshly, blue eyes wild as she gazed at him, one of her hands quick to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks. Deacon cursed the fact he couldn’t lift his injured arm fast enough to perform the task himself. “Most of the blood came from a flesh wound on your thigh, probably shrapnel from the grenade. We had to stitch you up, so you’ll have a decent scar.”

“You have another shrapnel wound on your hip, but it’s mostly superficial, it’ll heal faster than everything else,” she continued in a sober tone. Her hand drifted to rest cautiously on his bandaged right side. “Energy blast from that Courser. Thank God for Ballistic Weave or you’d have a gaping wound straight to your ribcage and guts,” she recoiled, blanched at the very mention. “More likely a pile of goo in the cornfield.”

“Don’t let Tinker Tom know you compared him to God,” Deacon breathed a joke, trying to cut the tension, biting his tongue when it didn’t land. He thought maybe he should’ve gone with ‘goo being better fertilizer’ but decided he’d rather not ruin the moment with a crude joke about his near-death. Charmer flashed a sympathetic expression, her fingers ghosting across the thick padding of gauze wrapped around his right shoulder.

“Through and through from a stray bullet. Ricochet in all the gunfire maybe, most likely friendly fire,” she explained, devastated to admit it. “Your shooting arm.”

Deacon hardly cared—he was alive, he would heal in time. If he never shot a rifle or a gun again, so be it. He still had all his appendages (that he was aware of—he really needed to lift the blanket to double check), and if his sense of humor was already back on the clock, well then—he was sure to be fine. Charmer was there, also alive, with no major injuries save for a few scrapes and bruises. They had survived, the Minutemen had survived, and the Institute were knocked down another peg. For some reason, it hardly felt like a victory.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled.

“What?” she questioned, clearly surprised by his apology. He wasn’t always one to admit fault, unless he had royally fucked up. “Why?”

Deacon nodded, squeezing at her hip, all he could do to show some kind of comforting touch. “If I stayed where I was supposed to, where you needed me, this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

“You’re an idiot,” she sighed after a long pause. There it was—at least she finally offered the slightest glimmer of a smile, letting him know she wasn’t truly admonishing him. “Brave and resilient in the face of danger, but still—an idiot.”

He managed the best grin he could. “Your idiot,” he paused, wiggling his fingers along her waistline. “Do brave and resilient idiots get rewarded with fancy Minutemen medals or can I negotiate for something…else?”

“Deacon.” Now she was scolding him, even if she was smiling at his antics. She pushed at his chest, distancing herself. “You nearly die and all you can think about is sex?”

“I didn’t necessarily ask for that,” he replied with a smirk. “But now that you mention it.”

Charmer leaned closer again, eying him carefully before placing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. She lingered, kissing him a few more times—delicately—like he could break at any moment. When she broke away, she brushed her nose against his. “All you’ll be getting is some more pain meds and a good night’s sleep.”

Deacon, stubbornly, thought otherwise. Her kisses were another stark reminder of life—sweet and gentle—and he wanted more. Much more. Perhaps too urgently, he tugged her closer, kissing her with more fervor, resisting the urge to grin when she eased against him, returning his kisses eagerly. It was so very easy to get lost in her, so he did—just focused on her lips, on her tongue, on her soft hand resting against his chest. He felt lightheaded, unsure if it was from breathlessness or his injuries, but didn’t want to pull away, not when she tasted so damn wonderful.

And then, something sharp jabbed into his arm, causing him to flinch. “Ow, ow, ow—needle!”

Charmer breathed a laugh, despite his painful reaction and he watched as she finished injecting the Med-X syringe she had snuck by while he was distracted by her mouth. He was a sucker for sure, but almost immediately he could feel the medicine doing its intended job, alleviating the pain he hadn’t realized was pulsing through him. He sunk back into the pillows, staring up at her as she offered a guilty expression.

“No fair.”

“You can thank me in the morning,” she insisted, moving to adjust him so he was lying flat, tucking the blanket back into place.  

Before Deacon allowed himself to fully succumb to the darkness of sleep, he slowly blinked up at Charmer, and hoped his smile didn’t look too ridiculous. “Love you.”

She didn’t say anything in return, only smiled and brushed those soft fingers across his temple, down his cheek before sliding across to his nose in a gentle tap. He knew what it meant.

-x-x-x-

The next time Deacon woke up, the room was completely dark, save for the soft glow of Charmer’s Pip-Boy resting on the bedside table. Knowing his full catalogue of injuries, he felt considerably weirder—the aches and pain had subsided, but there was still a humming static in his bones that no amount of Med-X or Stimpaks could relieve. His lips and throat were also dry, but that was nothing a glass of water couldn’t fix. His brain still couldn’t digest what had occurred—maybe he had a concussion too, causing his denial. Some part of that squishy lobe in his skull wanted to believe that he’d wake up and none of this would’ve happened, that he and Charmer would still be surveying the coastline, cracking jokes about big boats.

Instead, he needed to face reality. He was at the Minutemen’s Castle, in the General’s private quarters, a little worse for wear, sure, but alive. Deacon stared up at the speckled ceiling, quietly thanking whatever guardian angel or saved up good karma had helped him out this time. In spite of his penchant for danger, he wasn’t quite ready to leave this retched Wasteland, not when he found a second chance with Charmer.

All he wanted was to desperately kiss her right then. Kiss her over and over until he couldn’t feel anything but her, drowning in her love and affection. Of course he wanted more—his dreams had brought some form of her to him in an attempt to satisfy the need, but it wasn’t the same, and only left him craving the real thing. Oh, and with a morning stiff. At least things below the waist were in a working order. Deacon awkwardly reached to adjust himself, softly groaning at his own sensitivity. Briefly, he considered continuing with his own ministrations when he realized he wasn’t alone.

He turned his head, further adjusting his eyes find Charmer asleep, curled up on her side and facing him on what little space remained in the bed. At first he didn’t dare to move, not wanting to wake her so easily, knowing it was a real possibility. With her it was always hard to tell just how far away in dreamland she was. A voice in his head finally encouraged him to turn, slowly (and somewhat struggling) rolling onto his less-injured side so he could face her.

She looked so different in the low light—face clean of her usual makeup, soft blonde hair tousled but clearly recently cleaned from whatever blood and debris she had collected from the firefight on the Castle grounds. She had a small, healing cut on her temple, another below her chin. Deacon frowned, hating that her beautiful face had even been scratched in the slightest way. Hesitantly he reached out, resting his hand along her waist and the soft cotton of her dress. Charmer didn’t wake up, instead she seemed to lean into his touch, encouraging him to inch closer. He ran his hand up and down her side in slow swipes, curling around to run softer patterns along her spine before passing over her hip for a gentle squeeze.

Charmer let out a soft sigh, her hand reflexively reaching out for his chest. Only then did her eyes flutter open, but she didn’t seem overly surprised to find him so close. “Hmm…Dee,” she greeted, suppressing a yawn. “Are you okay?”

A loaded question, all things considered. Deacon didn’t respond at first, needing to quash the overwhelming sensation at the forefront of his mind and captured her lips in a needy kiss, gripping his hand along her side to pull her even closer to his body. Thankfully, she didn’t move away, but did tilt her chin for a sharp inhale of breath, breaking the kiss. He took the opportunity to nuzzle her brow, inhaling the sweet scent of whatever she had used to bathe.

“Clearly I’m feeling a little better,” he finally responded.

Charmer’s thigh shifted, and he couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or not until she spoke, the warmth of her leg pressing against his growing erection. “That’s not little,” she breathed, still unable to tell if she was teasing, or fully responsive to his state.

They’d been there before—not necessarily in that exact scenario—but they’d gotten each other worked up only for nothing to happen on more than one occasion. Deacon was silently hoping this wasn’t one of them. Instead of cracking a joke, he zeroed in on her lips again, relishing in the quiet little noises he coaxed from her as his hands continued to roam. It was all too slow for what his brain was demanding, and foolishly, he tried to roll his body atop hers, underestimating the effort it would take to support his weakened limbs. Charmer shifted at the last moment to avoid being crushed as he practically collapsed back onto the mattress with a defeated groan, closing his eyes tight in a lame attempt to block out the pain.

“Maybe we should stick to sleeping until you’ve healed,” she softly laughed, leaning up on her elbow to peer down at him.

Deacon huffed, glancing at her. “If you’re going to mock me, please just take me out back and end my suffering.”

Charmer regarded him with a tiny smile, her hand resting along the side of his face, thumb gently caressing his cheek. To his surprise, she closed the distance between them, her lips gentle when she placed them over his. “Lay still,” she instructed in a soft whisper, barely braking away.

Deacon didn’t dare to disobey once he noted the mischievous hint in her eyes. Her lips trailed across his chin and jawline, the softest giggles fanning across his skin as she mumbled something about his ticklish stubble. Her kisses continued along the line of his throat, up and down before focusing on a spot below his ear, causing him to groan when she gave the tiniest of bites.

“Frisky,” he breathed, gripping her waist a little tighter, encouraging her to shift to straddle his uninjured thigh. Charmer chuckled against his ear but must’ve decided her actions spoke louder than any witty response she could respond with, trailing her tongue and teeth down to his collarbone—now he’d just have more markings in the morning. Good. He’d wear and show them off proudly.  

Meanwhile, Deacon had continued running his hands along her sides and back, finding the task more and more difficult as she shifted lower down his body. Every time her leg brushed against his aching groin, he bit back a hiss, a moan—frustrated he couldn’t just flip her beneath him and rut like his mind was screaming out for. Then again, there was something agonizingly wonderful about this slow, calculated torture. Not everything between them had to be rushed, especially if she was taking the lead.

Charmer’s fingers were soft and warm against his chest as she explored his skin, wary of his bandages but firm against the lean muscles he knew she loved. Wherever her hands touched, her mouth followed, smooth and whispered kisses that zigzagged left-to-right, never lingering in one spot for too long. Soon enough she had adjusted so she was at his waistline, trailing along the hemline of his underwear.

She breathed a laugh as she pressed a series of kisses from his bellybutton to his bruised hipbone. “Are you sure you don’t want a medal?”

“How shiny is it?”

Deacon lifted his head, as painful as it was to crane his neck, to watch her movements as she removed his only item of clothing, careful not to disturb his bandaged thigh as she shimmied them down his legs. Charmer settled back down across his uninjured side, and she glanced up at him through her long lashes, eyes shining even in the darkness. The moan that left him when she gripped him was loud, even if her touch was feather-soft at first.

She resumed her kisses along his skin as she pumped him—slowly at first, as if she knew that any faster and he wouldn’t last long. Something about the setting, or the pain meds in his system, or maybe the adrenaline of surviving an Institute raid—who knew? He was already on edge. Deacon shut his eyes and slammed his head against the pillows, resisting the urge not to jerk up into her hand.

“Nuh-uh,” she argued, her free hand sliding up across his chest. “You should enjoy the show.”

Jesus fucking Christ—Deacon snapped open his eyes, tilting his chin so he could look at her just as she maneuvered to run her tongue along the base of his cock, fierce blue eyes meeting his as she licked up to the tip, only pausing to smile before wrapping her sweet lips around him completely. If he had been loud before, he was sure he had just woken up the entire Castle with his sounds of pleasure, unable to hold back as Charmer took him further into the heat of her mouth. Her warm tongue swirled around his crown while her fingers gripped tightly onto the base where her lips couldn’t reach—just unbelievably delightful.

Deacon strained to reach though the aches in his body down to her, combing his fingers through her hair as her head slowly bobbed, lips gradually tightening to tease him closer towards orgasm. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted that—all of this was fucking spectacular, but what he really, truly wanted was to chase that end with her. With his other hand he gripped her fingers splayed across his chest, lacing them and pressing them against his rapidly beating heart.

“Charm—”

Her mouth fell from him with a resounding pop. “After all that bedside care, you’d think I’d at least get a Mads.” She spoke her other nickname in a throaty sigh, teasing him. All the while her hand never stopped pumping, slow and deliberate as she nipped the skin of his inner thigh.

Deacon swallowed the hard lump in his throat—if he wasn’t already buck fucking naked with his lover’s hand around his cock, he would’ve blushed. Give it up to Charmer to call him out in the middle of a stellar blowjob for not using her given name. The rational part of his brain tried to remind himself that he liked to use it only under special circumstances, but what was more special than making love?

God he loved this woman. “Come here.”

Charmer hesitated to move, but he silently encouraged her, moving his hands along her body so she was perfectly situated, straddling his waist—right where he wanted her. She lowered herself across his chest, giving herself a little space so she could study his face, eyes dancing across his features. One hand rested across his cheek, thumb brushing across the tip of his nose and lips.

“Deacon?”

“Madelyn,” he answered in a whisper against her skin, watching the sparkle in her eyes ignite into a flame. He shifted her down his body so she was resting along his hips, gripping her waistline tightly so he could roll upwards once, twice—show that he was still very much aroused. “I want you.”

“Oh?” She always liked to play coy.

Charmer circled her hips, allowing the length of him to drag along the clothed crux of her thighs. He lifted his head up so he could kiss her in earnest, swallowing her groans as he brought her even closer to him, driving the friction between them even higher. Finally he began lifting up her dress, breaking away from their kiss for the quick moment it took to toss it to the side to wherever she had discarded his underwear. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but Deacon was more focused on getting her panties off—Charmer was already one step ahead of him, carefully moving without breaking their kiss or bumping into one of his injuries so she could wiggle them down her legs. Within seconds she was back on top of him, arched across his chest as they panted between heated kisses.

He whispered her name again—her real name—as he trailed his hand from her waist to her core, teasing his fingers against her entrance, shuddering at the wetness he felt. She trembled at his touch, whining incoherently as she writhed atop him. Still, he probed a few fingers, grinning into their kiss as she broke away in a heady moan. Soon enough she was reaching down to bat his hand away, stroking at his length and aligning it where his fingers had just been. When she sank down, she kissed him hard, almost taking the breath from him. Charmer stayed close in those initial moments, steady drags of her hips against his in-between fevered kisses and heated touches.

Her breath was beautifully ragged. “You doin’ okay?”

Deacon laughed. Even if he was in pain, he wasn’t going to admit it now. “God yes.”

Charmer seemed heartened, gradually leaning back on her heels, resting her hands along his chest as she steadily picked up speed. He gripped her thigh, one hand trailing up along her waist to palm at a breast. Beneath her, he found that he was already losing rhythm with every thrust, clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to focus—he wanted to last just a little bit longer, for her sake. This didn’t have to be perfect, but damnit, he wasn’t about to come early and leave her hanging, not when he was too injured to make love properly, the way he wanted to.

With a determined focus he met her every move, sliding his hand down to where they were joined to circle his thumb against her clit. That certainly seemed to do the trick, Charmer arching back in a symphony of sounds, movements interrupted as a wave of ecstasy washed over her. Her thighs tightened against his torso, quivering as she cried out, practically begging him to not stop. He wasn’t planning on it, not until she was an unmade puddle in his arms. Her hands clutched at his chest and shoulder and under her breath she muttered little curses between God and Deacon.

He could only grin.

Deacon pulled her tight against his chest as he noted her strength waning, kissing along the side of her face and neck as he pushed up from the mattress, holding her hips to his with every uneven movement.  She clenched around him and he knew even without her hushing his name, a silent trigger for him to let go. Even so, he continued thrusting until his orgasm hit him like a derailed train, blinding him and seizing his limbs in a way that had him clutching Charmer to his body as he came, barely giving her enough space to move so that he could spill across his stomach rather than inside of her.

No need for any baby Deacons walking around, he thought. Not yet, anyways. A flittering thought made him wonder if Charmer—Madelyn—would even want to have a kid with someone like him. But that was a thought for later. Much later. Breathless, mind swirling, he blinked hard and glanced down at his lover. She was flashing him this sideways, satisfied smirk—a good sign, chest still heaving as she caught her breath. A moment passed and she reached behind them for a few washcloths, passing one off to him so he could clean himself of their coital activities.

“That was fun,” she commented with a smile. Deacon could feel a but coming. “You know, you really need to rest now. Heal up.”

He sighed, nodding as he relaxed against the bed and pillows. “Lucky for me, I have an excellent nurse,” he flashed her a wink. “Grade A bedside service. Can’t wait to see what the sponge baths are like.”

Charmer chuckled, bringing the previously discarded blanket with her as she settled against his side. He tucked her closer for a snuggle. “With care like that, we’ll split open your stitches.”

He shrugged. This time, he could feel sleep calling to him naturally, without the need of a medical syringe. “Worth it.”

😎 leave a kudos

[something-tofightfor]

Triple D: Delos Does Disney (Part 4)

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 6875

Rating: N S F W 

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and all of the feedback... this part of your life with Logan is coming to a close. I love giving him a happy life, and I have no plans to stop that any time soon. 

Summary: As the day winds down, Logan’s got a few more surprises in store... and so do you. 

Tag list: (Please let me know if you wanna be added, removed, or moved to a different category!)

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche @agentlingerie

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou

@madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @traeumerinwitzhelden @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @binbonsadoration @ificouldhelpyouforget @ms-delos @jeanettexkillian @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0 @projectcampbell @giggleberts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

There had been short lines for Indiana Jones and the Jungle Cruise, meaning that by the time you finished with those, you had to make a choice: Splash Mountain or Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. “We’d have to walk all the way back almost to Galaxy’s Edge to get on Splash Mountain,” Logan said, leaning back against a fence. “And you just checked the app, the wait is almost 40 minutes, so we wouldn’t -” 

“You just don’t want to get wet, Logan.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Splash Mountain is…”

“No, you’re right, I don’t.” Logan shrugged, scratching his beard. “It’s dark and I’m already cold, and then we’d have to stand around in wet clothes while we watched fireworks.” He pushed off of the fence, hand reaching for yours. “Plus, we’ll be in the Bahamas for weeks.” He leaned down, kissing you on the corner of your mouth, lips lingering. “There are a ton of waterslides there, we can get as wet as we want and we won’t be cold.” No, but… You closed your eyes. He’s right. You were a little cold too, but would never admit it to Logan, because he’d never let you live it down. Thunder Mountain it is. 

“Let’s just go on Thunder Mountain, Logan. It’s right here, and then we can meet them … where, again?” He slipped his fingers between yours, squeezing. 

“On Main Street, they’re going to save a spot for us by the corn dog stand, that way we can go on that Buzz Lightyear thing before we leave, it’s Em’s favorite.” Another ride? But you nodded, letting Logan lead you up and into the line for the last roller coaster in the park. The line moved quickly, and you’d ridden and were off before 8:15, giving you just enough time to stop in the bathroom before heading back toward Main Street, following the crowd. You saw women eyeing Logan, paying no attention to the men that they were with, but you ignored it, leaning into your husband’s shoulder as you walked. They don’t matter. “There they are.” Logan raised his left hand, ring catching some of the twinkling lights from the lampposts as he pointed. “Plenty of space.” As you met the other three, Emily launched herself at Logan, who crouched down to her level, listening intently as she recapped the past few hours of her day. With him distracted, you looked at Mark, who nodded and used one hand to lift the strap of his backpack, indicating that he’d picked up what you asked him for. Perfect. “Hungry?” Logan’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you nodded at him, eyes moving to the line of people waiting at the cart, which was shorter than you’d thought it would be. “Be right back.” 

He stepped into line and while you kept an eye on him, you spoke to Mark. “We’re doing Christmas when we get back, that way we don’t have to take anything with us or worry about getting it home… so if you want to drop that off at our place sometime, that’d be great.” Juliet laughed, her hand on Emily’s head. 

“If you think my brother’s not going to give you a gift on Christmas…” You rolled your eyes, but smiled too. 

“I know, believe me. I’m taking something for him, because I know he will for me, but…”

“We’ll get it there, I promise.” Mark pressed his lips together. “I had to get one for myself, too.” I figured. The three of you were laughing, Emily sitting on the ground and watching as the people walked by when Logan returned with your food ten minutes later, handing you the basket and your drink. 

“Thanks, Lo.” He picked up his corn dog, holding it out to you and you responded by tapping yours against the fullest part of his, one eyebrow raised. “Cheers.” Without worrying about the condiments, you took a large bite, closing your eyes. I didn’t even realize how hungry I still was. Finishing your food without speaking, you took Logan’s trash and quickly stepped to a garbage can, hurrying back with only minutes to spare. “Can we see everything here?” You questioned him, leaning back against Logan’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you so that you were facing the castle, which was illuminated in thousands of white and blue lights. 

“We wouldn’t be standin’ here if we couldn’t.” He whispered the words into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Promise.” You didn’t want to check the time, instead focusing on Juliet as she told Emily to stand, Mark as he reached down, taking Emily’s hand in one of his as she stood in front of her parents, his other arm going around Juliet’s shoulders. The three of them took a step or two away from you, Juliet looking over her shoulder and winking, Logan nodding once. Thanks, Jules. While you’d wanted to spend time with the three of them, and Emily wanted you and Logan to be there, there was a clear separation between families for arguably the most meaningful part of the night. “Here we go.” The lights dimmed and the music began playing, Logan’s arms tightening around you as he hummed along with the music. 

You knew Logan could sing, he reminded you every so often in the car when you were listening to the radio, or when he was working out, headphones in. But you weren’t expecting to hear him sing Christmas carols quietly into your ear in time with a fireworks display in a crowd of thousands, and even though you were enraptured by the lights and music from the park, it was your husband’s voice that made your knees weak, puffs of air hitting your cheek as he sang along, swaying back and forth slightly. “Logan…” You whispered his name but he didn’t stop, one of the hands at your waist sneaking beneath your hoodie, fingers flat against your stomach and spread out, pulling you even closer to him. The castle went dark as the music stopped, and you turned your face toward Logan, the words dying on your lips as he kissed you quickly, your own hands covering his. Oh. 

“I love you, Mrs. Delos.” He spoke quietly but you heard in his voice that he meant every word as much that time as he had the first he’d said it. You repeated the same back to him, and then the castle was illuminated again in shades of white and blue as White Christmas began playing, Logan’s voice low in your ear again. But even that was drowned out by the excited reactions of the people around you as it started to snow, the flakes falling quickly from the sky. You grinned, turning your face upward and laughing. “It’s soap.” Logan reminded you, squeezing your body once more before dropping his hands and turning you slowly in the dark, his hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. I love you so much, Logan. 

You rested a hand on his chest, staring into Logan’s eyes as the ‘snow’ fell around you and the music continued, people ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing loudly, but you only saw Logan, the flakes resting in his dark hair and on his shoulders, swirling around his head. “Logan, I -” He shook his head, leaning in and dropping the hand on your face to the side of your neck. 

“Just shut up and kiss me, alright?” You nodded, closing your eyes as your lips met your husband’s, fingers curling into the material of his shirt. The finale of the fireworks boomed behind you, but you ignored it, instead focused on Logan in front of you, his free arm circling your body. 

“Alright, you two, that’s enough.” You hadn’t even realized that the show had ended and the lights were back on, but Juliet’s voice interrupted the kiss, Logan grinning against your mouth for a few more seconds before he pulled away. “You guys didn’t even see the end, and that was the best part.”

“Didn’t need to,” Logan said as he casually draped an arm around your shoulders, clearing his throat and looking down at Emily. “We saw the snow, right? And that’s better than the fireworks.” Emily nodded vigorously, the snowflakes still collected in her hair, and Logan glanced back at his sister. “See, Jules? Even Em agrees.” Mark laughed, shaking his head and within a few minutes, the five of you were walking toward Tomorrowland again, Emily leading the way. “One hour.” Logan whispered in your ear as you stepped through the doorway and into the darkened hallway line. “One hour and we’ll be in bed, and…” Logan groaned quietly and you closed your eyes. Not soon enough. 

Though the ride - glorified laser tag - was fun, and a good way to be competitive, you were tired of the park, tired of being on your feet, and tired of keeping your hands to yourself. I’ve got an idea. “Logan.” You turned to him, eyeing the line. “I bet I get a higher score than you.” Logan rolled his eyes before answering, head shaking back and forth. 

“I’ve been coming here for years, there’s no way that you get a higher score than me.” We’ll see about that. Emily, Mark and Juliet slid into one of the cars and you and Logan followed into the next, settling into the seat and waiting for the lap bar to drop. As you left the loading area, you turned to Logan, reaching for the gun attached to the front of the vehicle. 

“Alright.” You grinned, holding the blaster up. “High score wins.” He nodded at you, a serious look in his eye as he reached for his own gun, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the top of the car. “Lo?” He glanced over, lips pressed together. “Good luck.” You’re gonna need it. As the car entered the darkness of the ride and the sound effects started, you used your left hand to point the gun, firing haphazardly into the darkness while you reached for Logan with the right, fingers tugging on the zipper of his jeans. 

“Shit!” He jumped, hand tightening on the handle of the gun, head whipping toward you. “What are you…?” You shook your head, looking away and firing off a few shots, fingers pushing the denim of his jeans to the side before making contact with the material beneath them. 

“Logan, keep firing.” You glanced back over at him, pleased to see his mouth hanging open slightly. “Wouldn’t want to lose, would you?” He shifted closer to you without speaking, and you continued the game you were playing, one hand shooting for the targets and the other on your husband, who grew hard beneath your touch, his breathing changing quickly and becoming more rapid. After a minute, you took a breath, turning your head and aiming the gun to the opposite side of the car, giving you an excuse to look at Logan, whose jaw was set, eyes wide. 

“You’re terrible,” he growled, nose wrinkling, but you nodded, winking. Your fingertips found the opening in his boxer briefs, glancing off of his skin and Logan hissed loudly, head dropping forward. Anyone looking would have thought it was in defeat, but you knew that he was simply looking down and following the movement of your hand. “But I love every fucking second of it.” Of course you do. You kept shooting with one hand and stroking him with the other, knowing that there was nowhere near enough time to get Logan worked up enough for him to finish, but that you could get him going. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Logan leaned his head back, the gun aimed with his right hand, his left on his lap, fingers pressed against yours. What are you doing, Delos? He guided your hand in the dark, applying more pressure, and you heard him say your name under his breath, the end of it turning into another groan as he twitched beneath your hand. There’s no way. But even as the ride continued, slowly twisting you past the mechanical figures, you realized that you might have miscalculated, not taking into account Logan’s penchant for PDA and how aroused he got when you touched him. I’ve been teasing him all day, I should stop. 

Luckily for both of you, you watched as the room grew brighter, signaling the end of the ride. Quickly, Logan pushed your hand away from his lap, squeezing your fingers before letting them go to pull his zipper back up, adjusting himself through his pants while he sat up straight, breath escaping through his nose as he bit down on his lower lip. “Logan.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he shook his head, swallowing hard. As the ride pulled into the station and the bar went up, you slid out of the car, Logan following closely. 

“Stay in front of me.” His voice was strained and you nodded as you followed Emily and her parents down the hallway to the TV monitors where you could pull up your picture. Oh, shit, I forgot about… As you and Logan stopped walking, Emily quickly jabbed at the screen and you heard him swear under his breath. Oh, I hope it’s as blurry as it usually is. “Em, we don’t need ours, just get yours.” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s -”

“There you are!” The girl’s voice drew your attention to the screen above her head, where your picture was displayed. “You and Uncle Logan aren’t even paying attention.” Your eyes widened, Logan hissed and Juliet forced a laugh into a cough as everyone’s eyes focused on the screen, on which a slightly blurry image showed you and Logan holding your blasters - Logan’s was pointed downward, yours was angled toward his side of the car, but it was the position of your bodies that told the whole story. “What’s your email, Uncle Logan?” You tried not to laugh as Logan recited the address to his niece, eyes still on the picture on the screen. His head was tilted down, and you were looking at Logan’s lap, too, leaning forward, your hands hidden by the front of the car. Whoops. You glanced up at Juliet again, the woman’s eyes bright with a mixture of shock and amusement. So sorry, Juliet. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Logan cleared his throat, shaking his head and stepping next to you. One glance downward told you that things were back under control, and this was confirmed as Logan pulled you close, kissing the side of your head. “You’re the fucking worst.” But he wasn’t mad, and though your face was bright red, you glanced up at Mark, who was grinning. At least they understand. Within a few minutes - both images sent - the group of you were walking back toward Main Street, which was crowded with people, most of them headed toward the exits. “Wait a second. Stop.” Logan tugged on your arm, fingers closing around your elbow. “Look.” He raised his arm and pointed at one of the vendors, who was holding a large bunch of balloons - most of which were brightly lit, the interior Mickey-shaped portion in red, white or green. “Didn’t you say that you wanted a picture holding them?” 

“Logan, I said that like two years ago, when we were -”

“Yeah, I know. It was before we lived together.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well? What are you waiting for?” You shook your head, pressing your lips together. 

“Logan, it’s silly, it’s just -” But he cocked his head to the side, waiting, until you finally gave in and started walking toward the vendor. You waited in line, Emily joining you at Logan’s insistence and when you made it to the front of the line, you smiled. “I was just hoping I could get a picture with the…” The vendor smiled back at you, motioning for you to wrap your hand around the ribbons attached to the balloons before she slid her hand further down, giving herself room to back out of the picture. 

“Wait, she can’t hold them?” Logan questioned the vendor, who shook her head, explaining that she had to keep ahold of them just in case. “Then I’ll buy ‘em.” Logan shrugged, reaching for his back pocket. “All of them.” What? 

“Logan, that’s not… no way, we don’t need fifty....” But he was already handing the woman his credit card while she counted the individual strings, giving him a total, the amount not even phasing him. As soon as the transaction had been completed, the woman let go of the strings and you took possession of the balloons, Logan stepping back and raising his phone as you posed, the smile on your face giant. Even after a full year of marriage - three years of being with Logan, he was still finding ways to surprise you, ways to make the things you didn’t vocalize happen. You weren’t used to having his endlessly disposable income, and knew you never would be… but Logan, even when he spoiled you, didn’t make it a huge deal. It was just another thing to him, something that he wanted to and could do, so he did it. Oh, Lo. Your picture taken, you handed the bunch of balloons to Emily, letting her parents take a few shots of her before she handed the balloons back to you. “Ok, Logan, what do we…” You took a deep breath, making your decision and separating two of the balloons from the bunch and handing the strings to Emily. “One for me, one for you.” She nodded, stepping back toward her parents while you turned back to Logan. 

“Alright, what are you going to…” He paused, seeing the look on your face and lowered his head, grinning. “That’s fine.” With a grin of your own, you turned back to the employee, holding the bunch of balloons out to her. Merry Christmas. 

“Here.” She looked confused, frowning. “Give them away.” The young woman’s jaw dropping, she reached back for the ribbons, holding them tightly in her fist. “Hand them out ‘til they’re gone.” With a nod, you turned away from the woman, reaching for Logan’s hand. “Alright, Lo. Let’s go.” The smell of gingerbread followed you out of the park, the five of you separating on the plaza while you and Logan waited for your hotel shuttle and the other three walked toward theirs, the balloons bobbing above Emily’s head as they got further away. “You ready to get back, Logan?” His arm was around your shoulders, both of yours wrapped around his midsection as you waited for your ride with a small group of people. “It’s been a long day.” 

“It has,” he agreed, inhaling deeply. “And you’ve been teasing me all day.” Though his tone was conversational, you caught the longing in it, the promise. “It’s time to repay the favor.” As the shuttle pulled up, you felt yourself shiver - but it wasn’t from the cold. I’m gonna hold you to that, Logan. 

--- 

The ride back to the hotel seemed even longer than the one to the park, you again sitting on Logan’s lap, his chin tucked back against your shoulder. He took a picture of the two of you in that pose, his eyes as dark as you’d ever seen them in the artificial lighting of the shuttle but both of you looking as happy as possible. He’d posted it to his account within minutes of taking it, his fingers flying over the keyboard on his phone and he watched over your shoulder, a laugh leaving your mouth as you read the caption - The first night of Christmas: Disney with Mrs. Delos - and felt him tighten his arms around you. 

You barely registered the walk through the hotel lobby and the elevator ride up to your room, but you were acutely aware of Logan’s hand flat on your back beneath your hoodie, the way he pushed you forward, urging you back to the room as quickly as possible. He had his key in the slot before you could even reach for yours, the door opening inward as you re-entered the room you’d left so many hours before, you kicking your shoes off. “Clothes off,” he whispered as his lips latched onto your neck from behind, the quiet click of the door loud in the otherwise silent room. “Now.” He dropped his hands from your body as you turned to face him, reaching for the hem of your top. “Wait.” Logan reached up, hand reaching for the headband you still wore, pulling it off of your head and tossing it - along with his - onto the chaise against the wall. “Alright. Go ahead.” He winked at you as you pulled your hoodie over your head, dropping it to the floor and stepping back toward Logan, who watched silently. 

You ran your hands up his stomach and to his chest, leaning in and kissing your husband’s jaw as he placed his hands on your shoulders, long fingers slipping beneath the straps of your bra. “I’m sorry that I teased you all day, Logan.” You grazed your teeth against his beard, fingers working to undo the buttons of his thermal shirt. 

“No, you’re not.” He was speaking quietly, hands moving the straps slowly and deliberately down your arms. “And I’m not, either.” You’re not? “You know me so well, know what buttons to push, what…” He dipped his head down, kissing the top of your shoulder. “What to say to get me goin’.” His lips moved toward your neck, hands dropping from your arms to your waist, your palms flat on his chest. “All I wanted all goddamn day was you, and not bein’ able to act on that?” He groaned, biting down on your skin, which caused you to gasp quietly. “Made me want you more.” His hands tightened on your waist and Logan pulled you closer to him, falling silent. 

You turned your head to look up at him, raising one hand to run your fingers through his hair and felt yourself smiling. The urgency was there - you felt it, coursing through your veins, but it was no different than any other day with Logan - you always wanted him, always needed him, and couldn’t imagine ever feeling any different. “You’ve got me, Lo. What now?” He sniffed, running his tongue over his lower lip and sliding one hand up your bare back, fingers catching on the closures of your bra. 

“First, I’m gonna help you take this off,” he said before swallowing. “Then I’m gonna step back from you so that I can take -” You rose onto your tiptoes, kissing him hard on the mouth and pulling on his hair. Shut up, Logan. He undid the fastenings with one hand and you felt the material loosen against your chest, sliding down to expose your breasts, but he didn’t break the kiss. You sighed into Logan’s mouth, feeling his tongue moving against yours, fingers digging into your back and waist, just above the top of your jeans. “Little impatient, hmm?” Logan finally pulled away, taking a deep breath.  Yes. 

“I am, Lo. I just want…” He let go of you, reaching down to pull his own shirt off, the material dropping from his fingers to the floor. He stood in front of you wearing only his jeans and boots, and you shrugged out of your bra and then reached forward, undoing the button on his jeans, hooking your finger into the material and urging him forward. “You, Logan. Don’t make me…” You shook your head, hand moving up from his waist to his chest again, nails dragging over his skin. “Fuck, Logan.” He’s doing this on purpose. Standing up straight, you reached down, undoing the button on your own jeans and pushing them down your hips. “Need to take those pants off, Delos. Boots too.” Tearing your eyes away from him, you removed the rest of your clothing, standing in front of Logan as he did the same. 

You watched his long fingers untie the bootlaces, hands pulling them from his feet before he tossed them toward the wall, socks following quickly after. “Look at me.” It was a command, but you didn’t feel like he was forcing you, and you brought your eyes back up to Logan’s, waiting. You glanced down and watched as he removed his boxer briefs and jeans in one movement, pushing them down and then stepping out of them, kicking them away. “We’ve already broken in the bed.” He licked his lips, reaching for you and moving your hair over one shoulder, lowering his mouth to your skin. You felt his tongue tracing along your collarbone, hands moving down your arms and then against your ribs, thumbs stroking over the area beneath your bare breasts. “What’s next?” 

He kissed your jaw and you raised both arms, wrapping them around his neck and shoulders to keep him close, lips moving to his ear. “How ‘bout the dresser, Mr. Delos?” Logan groaned, nodding once and his hands dropped back down your body, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you. You tightened your hold on him as he stepped across the room, using one arm to support your weight while he swept things off of the top of the dresser beneath the TV. Heartbeat loud in your ears, you glanced down, watching two cups, a remote, a few cords and some papers scatter to the floor before Logan set you down on the smooth, cool surface, hands balling into fists, knuckles on either side of your body as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“This works.” He swallowed, nodding. “This is…” Logan kissed you without warning, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and leaning even closer, pushing you backwards so that your shoulders were against the wall next to the flatscreen, though your knees were still bent over the front edge. “Spread your legs.” You did as he requested, Logan’s hands moving to your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh. “All you, Mrs. Delos.” His lips brushed against yours and then so did his tongue, tracing the edge of your lower one. “All you.” You nodded twice, reaching forward with one hand and wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing as you sat up straight, scooting forward and hooking your legs around Logan’s thighs. “Fuck. That’s what I’ve been waitin’ for.” 

He was solid and hot in your hand, skin smooth against your palm and as you stroked him, you let out a low whine, appreciating every second of intimacy that you and Logan shared. The first time you’d been with him in the Bahamas, it had been fast and intense, neither of you knowing exactly what to expect. The second time - nearly two and a half months after you’d moved to Los Angeles, you’d taken things slower, Logan’s hands and mouth working over every inch of your body before he’d slid into you. But each time since had been a combination of the two, your bodies seeming to know what the other needed; even the night after finishing your bet in Logan’s dimly lit bedroom in the Delos mansion hadn’t been a frenzied as that first night, but as you ran your thumb over Logan’s tip, hearing him hiss out a breath, you were suddenly desperate for your husband - needing to feel him inside of you without any more delay. 

Protection wasn’t necessary - the tiny implant in your arm ensured that - and so you didn’t hesitate in guiding him to where he needed to be, raising your gaze to meet his, Logan’s pupils enlarged as he waited for your next move. You felt him against you and caught your lip between your teeth as you rolled your hips slightly, the muscles in your legs tightening as you pulled Logan closer and inched toward the edge of the dresser in the same movement. “Shit!” He slid into you smoothly despite the lack of foreplay, and as soon as that happened, you felt the mood in the room shift, control passing back to Logan as easily as he’d given it up to you in the first place. His hands slid up toward your body as he rocked his hips into you, fingers curling over your hipbones and then down, ensuring that your body was steady. “Need you to touch me,” he murmured, lips against your neck. “C’mon.” You nodded, uncrossing your legs from behind his and letting them drop, allowing Logan to widen his stance slightly, giving him more power behind his thrusts. 

As you brought your hands up to his back, you felt the bite of the edge of the dresser against the back of your legs, Logan’s thrusts becoming more controlled. “Logan.” You moaned his name out, your nails digging into his back as you tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him. He replied with yours in a tone that you rarely heard from him outside of the bedroom, breath warming the dampened skin beneath his lips as he worked his way back up to your face, sucking on the skin that he covered one moment and then biting down on it the next. By the time his mouth was on yours again, you were panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted. He took advantage of your condition, kissing you sloppily as you cried out, one hand gripping your hip tighter, the other letting go and moving to the back of your head, cradling the base of your skull in his long fingers. Jesus. 

“Touch me,” he whispered when he pulled away to breathe, his nose wrinkled and his lip curled up, teeth bared. “You couldn’t keep your hands offa me all day, and now -” You groaned, letting go of his back and moving your hands to the front of his body, pushing backwards on his shoulders to create space between you. “Fuck.” He was breathing hard too, the movement of his hips slower as he waited and watched you, eyes hooded. You nodded at him, rolling your neck as you licked your lips, fingers curled as they moved downward, faint red marks trailing behind them on his skin. 

“You want this, Lo?” He nodded, glancing down at your hands, at the place where your bodies connected. “Yeah, I know.” Hands still traveling down his chest, you dug in a little harder, leaning forward to kiss his sternum, the feeling of his chest hair different but not unwelcome against your lips, parting them to suck gently on his skin. He hissed again, and your hands reached his abdomen, Logan’s hand tightening on your head and the one on your hip letting go as he ran it back up your side, your entire body shivering beneath his fingertips. You felt how tense his muscles were beneath your fingers, the coarse hair beneath his navel rough against your hands as you looked up at him, lips still pressed against his skin. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, and while you could catch him off guard, you chose to - moving your mouth to one of his nipples and sucking it into your mouth before you bit down. 

He cried out, immediately looking down at you again, and as you felt his hips falter for the first time, you pulled your hands and mouth away from his body, leaning back on the dresser and bracing yourself, lips pressed together. Your turn now, Logan. You’re close, I can feel it. The changed angle allowed him to deepen his thrusts, and without worrying about your hands on his skin, you once again wrapped your legs around him, staring up at your husband. Logan’s left hand was pressed against your leg where it joined your body, thumb in the crease of skin, but his right, no longer tangled in your hair, was traveling slowly up your stomach, fingers flat and palm warm. He was entirely focused on his hand’s movement, eyes on his fingers as they approached the bottom of your breasts before diverting from the center of your body, pushing one breast up and allowing his thumb to swipe over the fullest part, lingering against the peaked nipple. Fuck, Logan. You closed your eyes at the contact, nodding your head and without thinking, removed one hand from the dresser, bringing it to the apex of your thighs. I need… I’m… “Stop.” Logan spoke one word and your hand froze just above your skin, eyes snapping back to his. “You don’t need to do that.” 

“Lo, I -” He let go of your chest, sliding his hand back down your stomach and shook his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ before he touched you, knuckles pushing against your skin as his thumb moved slowly against you, forcing your eyes closed. He knew what he was doing - Logan always did, applying pressure as you once again dropped your hand, gripping the edge of the dresser hard. “Logan, please, I -” You swallowed, opening your eyes again and looking up at him, unsure of what you wanted to say. “Logan, you -”

He pulled out of you almost completely at the same time as he sped up the movement of his finger - catching you off guard, and with one final, deep thrust, Logan gripped your hip tighter, sending you over the edge. You fought to keep your eyes open, body tensing and then relaxing, your weight shifting back onto your elbows as your muscles contracted around him, toes curling. You moaned loudly, eyes locked on Logan and you nodded twice, urging him on with the tightening of your legs, even though you were sensitive almost to the point of overstimulation. He continued moving his hips, dropping his right hand away from your body and covering your left with it, fingers falling between yours easily. You gripped his hand, his name leaving your lips as his hips met yours - over and over, and you forced yourself to sit partially up, reaching for him and pressing your hand against his chest. Come on, Lo. He opened his eyes to look at you, and you watched as he scanned your face, taking in your flushed skin and damp brow, the parting of your lips and the way you were looking at him, and that’s all it took - Logan’s nose wrinkled, his eyes closed and you felt warmth inside of you as he came, hips still moving - but much less fluidly. “Oh, shit.” 

His head drooping down toward his chest, Logan took a large breath, his grip on your hand relaxing, and your hand dropped from his chest as you sat up all the way, legs falling from Logan’s body to rest against the wooden dresser. “Hey, Lo.” You spoke quietly, bringing the hand that had been on his chest up to the side of his face, stroking his cheek with the back of one finger. “You alright?” He nodded, still looking down, and without speaking, he shifted his hips, pulling out of you with a low hum. “Let me get you a towel.” You leaned in, kissing him gently and he stepped to the side, allowing you to hop off of the dresser and head for the bathroom on still-unsteady legs. You wet a towel for him and then one for yourself, walking back into the bedroom and handing it to Logan, before you busied yourself, cleaning up your own skin and then turning around to wipe down the dresser, too. 

“Here.” You glanced over your shoulder at Logan, who was holding out his towel to you, a smile on his face. “I know you’re goin’ back in there.” Of course you do. Taking the damp cloth from his hand, you winked at him and then went back into the bathroom, taking your time getting ready for bed - using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, washing your face - and by the time you walked back out into the bedroom, Logan had stood up from the edge of the bed, boxer briefs pulled back on. “I’ll be right back, alright?” You nodded and Logan leaned down to kiss you on the mouth - taking his time, the fingers of one hand trailing up your spine - before he, too disappeared into the bathroom. 

You plugged both of your phones in to charge and pulled one of Logan’s t-shirts on to sleep in, not bothering with pants or underwear, and then crawled into bed, a satisfied smile on your face as you laid back against the pillows. Logan took much less time in the bathroom than you did, and after a quick detour to his overnight bag, he sat down next to you on the bed, reaching over with his left hand to take yours. What’s happening? “Logan?” He didn’t say anything, using his thumb to turn your engagement and wedding bands, and you sat up, suddenly worried. “Logan, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and looking at you, blinking. “I have something for you.” What? You cocked your head, noticing for  the first time that Logan was holding a small box in the hand that wasn’t holding yours. What’s… “Logan, what is that?” That looks like… He laughed, lifting the hand and holding the box up in front of your face. “Logan Delos…” 

“It’s not what you think, I promise. Take it.” You did, pulling your hand away from his so that you could open it. It is what I thought it was, what are you… “I was talking to Juliet last week.” Logan cleared his throat as you used two fingers to pull the silicone ring out of the box, the shiny bronzed color gleaming even in the low light. “She said you told her that you were… worried about spending three weeks at the beach with your other rings.” You groaned quietly. Why would she tell him that. “So… I bought you another ring.” You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “I get it, I really do. Those rings mean a lot to you, and I don’t want you to… spend the whole trip worrying about them, or looking for excuses to take them off so nothing happens to ‘em.” Logan held his hand out and you placed the new ring into it, finally looking up at your husband. “But I’m not going weeks without you wearin’ anything on your finger.” You bit back a laugh at the serious look on his face. “I married you three times, and I want you to have a ring, so… this is my solution.” 

“Logan, I would have worn them, I just…” He shook his head, reaching for your left hand and pulled all three rings off in one movement, leaning over and setting them on the bedside table. Your hand felt light without them - the missing weight a strange feeling - but as Logan slipped the new band onto your finger, you smiled. It’s perfect. “Logan, it…” You held your hand up in front of your face, feeling your smile grow. “That’s perfect.” 

“It’s not the same, but it works.” He nodded, smiling too, and you felt your heart thumping in your chest as you looked at Logan. He just wants people to know I’m his. “We’ll put the other ones in the safe when we get home tomorrow, this one too,” he said, taking your right hand in his and squeezing the ends of your fingers for emphasis. “But as soon as we get -”

“Logan, I don’t care what I have on my finger. I’m your wife, and that’s not going to change.” You grinned at him, reaching over and pulling your rings off of the table, putting them back on your finger along with the silicone one. “Besides, all these diamonds didn’t seem to deter anyone today, maybe something simple will do -” But you were cut off as Logan tackled you backwards, his weight settling on top of you as he buried his face in your neck, shaking his head back and forth, his fingers digging into your sides as he tickled you. You laughed out loud as you felt his beard scratching against your skin, both hands going into his hair and tugging, back arching off of the bed. “Logan, come on!” He laughed too, finally pulling away and looking down at you, a lazy smile on his face. 

“Nothin’ simple about the way I feel about you, and you know that.” Logan swallowed, the look in his eyes serious. “None of them matter.” You nodded, relaxing into the mattress as Logan leaned down, kissing you again. “None of ‘em ever mattered.” You lost yourself in the kiss, and when Logan finally pulled back, rolling off of you and reaching over to turn the light off, you sighed, turning onto your side and facing him. 

“Thank you for today, Logan.” He settled in next to you, his hand moving up to push the hair away from your face. “It was the best way to start this vacation.” Logan nodded, his eyes moving over your face. “I hope that you had fun, even though I’m not a Disney princess…” He groaned, shaking his head and rolling onto his back, one hand covering his eyes. One more time, Delos. “But I’m not done with you yet, Lo.” He peeked at you through his fingers and you winked at him again, moving so that you were straddling his hips, hands flat against his chest. “You did just give me another ring, and that’s enough reason to -” 

He groaned again and cut you off with a kiss, using both hands to pull you down and against him, but you felt him smiling against your lips, his hips lifting off of the bed to meet yours. Feels like you’re not too mad at me, Logan… 

---

[boxxie]

A Deal with the Devil [Baxter & Alastor]

A song fic based off a roleplay I did between Baxter and Alastor. The song is The Other Side from The Greatest Showman. Not really good at writing Alastor but I tried.＼(´▽｀*)/ . . .

Darkness enveloped the room, interrupted only by the dim light cast from the single room’s occupant. Their lure was lit, casting eerie shadows across the various machines and chemicals that were crammed into the small space. The occupant’s skin was an ash gray, their clothing consisting of a dark lab coat, long pants, rubber gloves, thick boots and a small fedora. Yellow goggles perched over tired blue eyes. The fins lining their face drooped, exhaustion weighing them down. How many days had Baxter been trying to perfect this experiment now? He was intelligent, no doubt, but he lacked supplies.

His suppliers had simply taken his money and ran. No one cared, it was Hell after all. This was possibly the lowest the anglerfish demon had ever been, but he refused to ask for help. Charlie was already doing enough by letting him use the hotel's basement as a labratory. He growled, his head hitting the table as another head ache began to form. Except this time, static seemed to follow. Baxter only had a few seconds to wonder what had caused it before he heard a soft chuckle.

The scientist jolted upright, spinning in his chair to face the much taller form of what could only be the Radio Demon. His eyes were a startling red, a yellowed smile stretching from ear to ear. A crimson pinstriped coat, matching dress pants and bow tie made the staff he was holding stand out. The tip was covered in a small microphone, the device seeming to be the source of the static. "Ah, my friend. Just the person I was looking for." He had been keeping an eye on Baxter for days now, noticing how much worse off he looked. It could be the perfect time to increase his ranks, when such a valuable asset was clearly at their wit's end.

"What do you want, Radio Demon?" Baxter scowled, having seen him here and there in the hotel. They had never interacted before this moment. Hell, Baxter rarely associated with the rest of the hotel employees. His eyes narrowed when Alastor grinned wider, holding a hand out to Baxter. The color around them seemed to melt away, leaving reality in a startling display of black and white.

"Right here, right now, I put the offer out. I don't wanna chase you down, I know you see it." Alastor's voice flowed through the room, almost as if it were a song. His hand was still outstretched, inviting the shorter demon to take it. "You run with me,  and I can cut you free. Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in."

Seeing as how Baxter was refusing to accept, Alastor pulled his hand back, humming softly. He snapped his fingers, the colors returning to the room, but much more vibrant and lively. "So trade that typical for something colorful!" He threw his head back and laughed, hearing the crack of his neck following. "And if it's crazy, live a little crazy! You can play it sensible, a king of conventional-" Alastor leaned foward so he was towering over Baxter, smiling as the anglerfish demon shot him a glare. "Or you can risk it all and see~"

"Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play? 'Cause I got what you need. So come with me and take the ride, it'll take you to the other side!" Alastor didn't give Baxter a choice this time, pulling the shorter demon towards him with a twirl. "'Cause you can do like you do, or you can do like me-" He spun Baxter, who had immediately began to struggle against the contact.

Baxter found himself relieved of the Alastor’s clutches in that next moment, but he wasn’t free yet. He was caged, spot lights shining down on him out of no where as if he were a prized attraction at the circus. It was undoubtedly the Radio Demon's influence.

"Stay in the cage, or you finally take the key!" Alastor dangled a wispy green key in front of Baxter, but when the scientist grabbed it, the key vanished. "Oh, damn! Suddenly you're free to fly~ It'll take you to the other side." Alastor sang, watching as Baxter got to his feet with fire in his eyes.

"Okay, my friend, you wanna cut me in-" Baxter spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice like venom. "Well, I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen." He got closer until he was standing directly by the bars, staring angrily at Alastor. "So thanks, but no. I think I'm good to go, 'cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in."

Baxter looked at his gloves, inspecting them as if they were more important than the situation at hand. "Now I admire you, and that whole show you do. You're on to something, really it's something." Of course he knew about the power the Radio Demon held. He had been in Hell when the deeds were broadcasted, but he knew he would never associate with someone so open and public with their killings. "But I live among the swells, and we don't pick up peanut shells." Baxter looked up. This time, he was smirking. "I'll have to leave that up to you."

The anglerfish demon reached into his lab coat, pulling out a device that faintly resembled a gun. "Don't you know that I'm okay with this uptown part I get to play? 'Cause I got what I need, and I don't wanna take the ride. I don't need to see the other side!" He pointed the gun at the bars, a red beam firing at the steel cage. The laser cut through the steel like butter, leaving a hole big enough for the scientist to step through. "So go and do like you do, I'm good to do like me!" He burst from the cage, eyes sparking triumphantly. "Ain't in a cage, so I don't need to take the key! Oh, damn! Can't you see I'm doing fine? I don't need to see the other side!"

Alastor clucked his tongue with disappointment, walking closer to Baxter once more. "Now is this really how you'd like to spend your days?" He looked to the corner, stocked high with brandy and unpaid bar tabs. "Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays?"

Baxter crossed his arms, scoffing softly. "If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town." His head lowered, darkening the angered expression he wore. "Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns."

Alastor's expression lightened, the demon once more touching Baxter. This time, however, it was merely his shoulder. "But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little.." He waved his hands as images of the mad scientist performing various experiments seemed to hover in the air. "Just let me give you the freedom to dream, and it'll wake you up, and cure your aching. Take your walls and start 'em breaking. Now that's a deal that seems worth taking!" He pulled back, his voice unusually calm. "But I guess I'll leave that up to you." Once again, Alastor held his hand out.

Baxter stared at the images for a moment. He recognized them. The first experiment he ever did in Hell, keeping a patient's head alive without the body for two weeks. The time he created a slime monster that had nearly destroyed the entirety of Pentagram city. The time he built a device that allowed him to teleport short distances to avoid running into other demons when all he needed was a glass of water. They were all successful, much better than what he was struggling with now.

Baxter suddenly felt tired. Tired of being overworked, tired of finding himself alone, tired of failing. He hesitantly took the Radio Demon's hand, giving it a firm shake. Light shined brightly from their entwined grasps, the scientist had to cover his eyes. When the light died down, he found himself feeling the weight of his work finally catching up to him. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I think I should head to bed."

“Yes, yes! Rest up, my friend.” Alastor smiled, watching as Baxter turned away to head up stairs. The thinnest traces of his power were still visible, a light red veil, invisible to Baxter, slowly sapping his strength. The fish demon yawned, rubbing his eyes under the goggles and mumbled in agreement. Once Baxter had fully left the room, Alastor’s smile grew sinister, a dark chuckle soon following. “I must take care of my cohorts. They’ll need to be at full strength very soon.” His eyes flashed red, the sound of static growing louder and louder as the Radio Demon vanished in a puff of red smoke. The only thing left behind was a small radio, ready to call on Baxter at a moment’s notice.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Hello! Lemme just say, I /love/ your writing. For a prompt, and cause I’m soft for hurt/comfort fics, maybe you could toy with the idea of Peter comforting Juno after a nightmare or vice versa?

*ears perk up* person likes my writing??? Oh!!!! *hops up and down* Person?! Likes my writing!???? Oh oh!!! Person likes my writing!!!!!!11!!1!!!

Thanks for the prompt! 

we’re all drinking our Stan Jupeter juice here on tumblr.com huh. 

TW for nightmares. This gets a little intense with the hurt (but comfort follows very soon after!)

~~

“Darling, are you aware that you talk in your sleep?”

“Oh yeah? Well, you snore.” 

“I do not snore.” 

“You do.” 

Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten used to sharing a bed with another person. I haven’t had anything like this for a while. My last longer-than-a-one-night-stand relationship lasted a grand total of three days, ending right before I got the case with the damn cat. She left when she decided a bedmate who mutters someone else’s name in his sleep wasn’t her type. 

The owner of that name is in bed with me every night now, which just goes to show, I guess. 

He hasn’t left. Yet. 

I’m sure he’ll kick me out at some point. I walked out on him last time before he was able to find out enough about my sleep patterns to get annoyed, but now it’s just a matter of time. He’ll be polite about it, obviously. Gently indicate that it might suit us both better if this weren’t a regular thing. Offer to carry my things back to my room for me. Always be the gentleman.

And that’s the thing - he’s so goddamn gentle. He’s fantastic in bed and for once I don’t mean that in a sexual way. He spoons me, or cuddles with me, or on nights where I want a little more space, he tucks the blanket around me before retreating to his side of the bed; murmurs, “Good night, darling”. In the mornings he wakes me up with forehead kisses and hot coffee made exactly how I like it even though I literally never told him how I like it. 

In the mornings, he looks softer. His hair is messy, and his makeup gone. Sometimes there’s a sloppy line of hickeys trailing down to his collarbone. When I kiss him good morning his face scrunches up in a little smile. 

“Dream anything interesting?” he’ll ask, reaching across the pillow between us to stroke my hair. I never tell him what I dream. 

I haven’t woken him up with my nightmares yet. But I know I’m on borrowed time. 

It’s tonight, and we’re in bed, and I can feel his back pressed against mine, moving slightly up and down as he breathes in sleep. I’m tired after a long day. It’s so peacefully easy to drift off and not care about anything. Until -

I’m having one of those dreams again, where I know I’m dreaming but still can’t snap awake. It’s the blood chair, it’s draining me, and I can hear three voices around me all arguing while my heart races to compensate for all this blood I’m losing - and it’s like I can taste it, hot and thick and salty in my mouth -

I’m falling through dark, open space, until I land with a sudden jolt. I can hear a banging like fists on a solid surface; and I can hear laser bolts, feel my body aching, my eye throbbing - Nureyev screaming and Miasma fighting me - and then I’m falling again, this time through open dark space, frigid on my skin. “Let me wake up,” I gasp. “Please -”

I can feel my eyes freezing and icicles in my hair, numbing me, stabbing me, the stars rushing past me in these terrifying blurs of cold light. It’s like I’ve been sucked out into space, and now the void is drawing me in, it feels so vivid and real - 

-and then it’s over and then something new is starting. I feel absolutely nothing, and I know this means that I’m dead. I can hear everything, all the sounds of a fight, like a bunch of thunder and drums sounding all at once, but I’m away from it, away from everything - I’m gone I’m finished. “Let me wake up, let me wake up, please -”

“Juno!”

I gasp as I feel myself snap awake. My shoulders are held between Peter’s hands where he’s been shaking me. He sighs in relief when he sees my eyes open. “Darling -” He makes a surprised noise when I crumple against him. I burrow into his arms, crying for all I’m worth, shaking like a goddamn child. His arms are tight around me a moment later. He cradles me, whispers, “Shhh, shh,” and runs those slender fingers through my hair. “My love, what is it? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I, I-I-”

“Shhhh.” Peter pulls me onto his lap in a sitting position and kisses the top of my head. “Just nod or shake. Nightmare?”

I nod weakly.

“Alright. Relax, I’ve got you.” I press my face closer to his chest while he keeps caressing my hair, like his heartbeat’s going to keep the inevitable from happening. He knows now. He knows that this is what he’s signing up for by loving me. He knows what a mess I still am. 

I sniffle, drawing out of the embrace. This is kind of awkward since I’m still sitting on his lap. “I’ll just, uh.” I wipe my eyes on my shirt. “I’ll just -”

“Lie down.” 

Although that surprises me, I oblige. He brushes back my hair to kiss my forehead, tells me he’ll be right back, then vanishes. When he returns he has a glass of cold water, a washcloth, and a clean shirt in hand. 

“Drink.” Once I’ve drained the glass, he dabs the sweat from my face, then helps me take my damp shirt off and pulls a new one over my head. It’s too big, and it smells like him. He’s taking care of me. He should be angry that I woke him up with my weeping, but he’s taking care of me. “There. A little better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I hug my arms around my knees. Then I lean over and lie down on my side, so I’m lying across his lap with my head on his thigh. “Play with my hair?”

He runs his fingers over my scalp, tracing, stroking. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I have a lot of repressed trauma.” I shrug, which makes my shoulder bump against his knee. “Most people would be out that door by now.” 

“Not me.” His thumb sweeps in an arc over my forehead. “Sometimes,” he murmurs, “I have nightmares too.”

I turn my head so I can look at him. In the dim light, his eyes still seem to shine. He’s not asking me to leave. Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to.

“Come here.” He guides me up and moves with me so we can get under the covers again; and I snuggle right back into his arms, because I don’t want to be away from him for even a second. “I don’t know what you dreamed about, goddess,” he murmurs to me. I love when he calls me that. “But whatever it is, whatever you have to work through, I’ll be here. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I won’t,” I whisper. “And I’m - I’m here too, you know that, right?”

“I’ll never doubt it, dearest.” He kisses me very gently on the bridge of my nose. Right over my scar. Here in his warmth and his arms I can feel myself falling asleep again. “Sleep, Juno, love. Shall I sing to you?”

What did I do in a past life to deserve this guy? “Yeah,” I yawn. “That’d be… nice.”

“Alright. Go back to sleep.” He sings: “Sér- sí, tye are varna

Ni indóme mel tye  

Tenna i elena úr- eth“

I recognize the language, though I’ve only heard him speak it once or twice. Brahmese. On his lips it’s more beautiful that anything I’ve ever heard. 

And his heart beats under my head, and his arms wrap around me like shelter… and I know I’m safe here… and I know he’ll still be here when tomorrow night comes, and every night after for as long as I want him. 

For forever, if we choose. 

[frehleys-baby]

Resurrection Fic, Chapter 1

(Alternatively titled Gene Goes Yeet, proofread by the lovely @cosmicrealmofkissteria ! Warning for mild blood and gore and death!)

Gene wished she’d just stayed asleep.

He wished he could’ve stayed asleep, wished he could’ve just rolled over and pulled Frances in his arms and went right back to sleep, hearing her sigh out a contented breath as he drifted back into dreamland.

But he couldn’t. Not tonight. Tonight was a night to atone, a night to fix mistakes of past, present and future. A night to make everything right, to turn all his wrongs around.

And Lord knows he had plenty of those.

As he coasted along a dimly lit road, he heard Frances’s breathing start to falter and become sharper as she returned to the land of the conscious.

Her short blonde bangs were messy, with the rest of her. She was in wrinkled PJs, a shirt of his and some lounge pants, barefoot.

Gene had pulled her out of bed, remembering with a bittersweet fondness how she’d clung to his arm in her sleep, grumbling protests. He’d simply kissed the furrows on her forehead until she had drifted back enough into sleep to continue putting her in the car.

Her utterly disheveled bangs were hiding eyebrows Gene knew were scrunched in confusion, and through bleary brown eyes, she struggled to identify him in the darkness of the car.

“It’s me”, he spoke, the edge of his voice cutting across the black shadow of the car, and he watched her body ease out of flight or fight mode.

“...Am I dreaming?” She asked, voice thick with drowsiness as Frances patted around the roof of the car for the light.

It flicked on as he took a breath to answer, and Gene could feel her eyes boring through him, starting to become fully awake to the world and what was occurring in the moment. He could feel the confusion, the slight fear radiating off her in hitting him like bullets. Each second longer put new holes in his skin, tearing through his control and his steeled face. They ricocheted around the car as he exhaled, and turned his eyes to briefly meet hers.

“We’re moving.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then a laugh nervously jittered past her lips. Gene tensed at the sound, and the anxious bubble of laughter stopped as quickly as it came.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“Seriously, why are we in the car? This is a joke!”

She laughed anxiously yet again, and he recollected himself, setting his jaw.

“It’s not a joke. We’re leaving New York.”

The knives Frances shot in his direction were sharp as razors, and they simply cut into the wounds she’d already unknowingly given him.

“I did something stupid,” he finally admitted, his ego growling and writhing in protest.

“I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Frankie.”

Her glare only hardened as he continued, and his grip on the wheel stiffened.

“I thought I could do something and I could handle it and I couldn’t. So now we have to leave. You can’t talk to anyone we knew back there. Not even your family, or friends or anyone.”

She didn’t say anything in response. Not a word, a grunt or groan or sigh, hardly a breath.

Frances didn’t even blink as she turned to face the windshield, staring down the backroad he was driving on. When she finally took a breath, the calm noise erupted into a splintering sob, and Frances brought her hands to her eyes as she began a breakdown.

It was only 3 am and Gene had already ruined a life that wasn’t his to ruin.

She had none of the things that he’d expected.

She had no anger, no pain.

She did not scream at him, she did not bellow at him to turn around, or to let her out.

Frances simply just pulled her legs to her chest, and ran her fingers through her hair, bangs falling in her eyes.

“...What did you do, Gene?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He bit back, and she sighed, resigned and tired.

“If it was bad enough to run, bad enough to put me in your damn car without the courtesy of waking me until we were on the road, it does matter.”

Gene dug his nails into the leather of his wheel, thinking back over what he’d done. It wasn’t really just one thing, rather a myriad. Bad decisions, thoughts he could make business and borrow money and get big without help, and instead he found himself at the feet of someone much larger than he’d expected.

Gene had found himself with teeth cut out of his mouth, mere warnings for “speaking like he was God”. Speaking in ultimatums, it was a terrible habit of his.

Nothing was concrete, nothing he said had to go that way. He loved his self-confidence, but right now, it had screwed him over like everyone always said it would.

God had pulled the rug out from under his feet this time, and Gene had fallen hard, and had taken Frances to the ground with him.

“...I decided I could go solo. No manager, no middle man, just me and producers and everything else. I’d make the most money, have the most power, what I said would go.”

Gene’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he spoke once more.

“But we didn’t have the money for it. I didn’t have the money for it.” He shamefully admitted. With how hard Gene worked his ass off to follow what he loved, and the way Frances worked too, that was the last thing he wanted to admit. They were broke after bills. There was no money left to chase after fame. There was hardly enough money to buy a gallon of milk.

Frances slapped a hand to her face, and Gene’s nostrils flared in annoyance. This was the reaction he had expected. This toxic anger he managed to rise out of her, the effect he had on her. Frances would never harm a fly, but Gene managed to make her spit fire when she grew angry. The two of them reacted like matches and striking paper; their personalities rubbing friction and causing flames.

Frances’s eyes became burnt embers, smoldering in anger.

“Jesus bleedin’ Christ, Gene!”

“So I borrowed some from some loaners-“

Her thin legs kicked his dash, and she held her head in her hands as she hunched over.

“You’re a damn idiot!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You could’ve asked my parents if we needed money!”

Gene’s fists clenched and his foot began to press harder on the gas. He leered at her, and she looked flabbergasted.

“Not everyone feels comfortable running to someone else to money whenever they need it.”

“Gene, that’s better than-“

Frances turned to face him, her seatbelt straining against the movement. Her face was still as a statue, her voice little and incredulous.

“...Did you just not want to ask them?”

He scoffed, his shoulders tensing.

“Don’t be stupid.”

A knowing, soured smile stretched across her face. The spite in her eyes gleamed in the streetlights, dimming and brightening as he drove away and towards the lamp poles

“That’s exactly why, isn’t it? The high and mighty Mr. Simmons didn’t want to admit he had no cash to my parents.”

If Gene could’ve spat blood, he would’ve sent a spray across the windshield.

“Frances, that’s not-

Are you serious right now?”

She curled back into resignation, legs pressed back against her chest.

“Now I can't even tell them that. I can’t even go home now.”

Gene narrowed his eyes, then turned back to the windshield. Laser point focus beamed into what few cars drove past them, most semis that were hauling things from one place to another, pulling all-nighters because it was how they got paid. He ignored her because she was right, and he had nothing to say to make it better. He couldn’t spin this situation his way.

Or maybe he could.

Gene pulled to a stop on the road, throwing the car into park before unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the center console. Frances looked at him, and responded by turning her head towards the window. Her straw shaded hair was turned golden in the yellowed beams of the car’s lighting system, and her pale face was wet with tears, rehydrating the ones that had dried. He reached across, and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her towards him. Frances’s head lolled lazily towards him, and he captured her jaw with a hand, pulling her in for a kiss.

“We can do this. We don’t need your parents or your brother, or anything. Hell, we don’t even need New York or anything we left there. All we need is each other.”

“You’re forgetting something, Gene.”

He scrunched his face, actual concern flashing across his features.

He ran what he had grabbed through his head, and what his brain had decided was that he'd left nothing of importance. His frizzy curls bounced as he tilted his head in mild confusion, and she sighed, a weary smile on her lips.

“The one thing that would probably sleep in the bed with you if I let it.”

She raised an eyebrow while he mockingly pondered a thought.

“My axe. We need that, everything else can go. You, me and the axe, babe, all we need.”

He wiped her eyes with a rough thumb, and she leaned into his touch, smiling despite the pain in her eyes. He felt like they were teenagers again, and she coughed out a tear-stained laugh.

“Damn your axe, and damn you.”

He leaned back over to kiss her, and the two shut their eyes, simply taking in the other’s presence. Frances leaned into his touch, and reached for his free hand. She whispered gently, her eyes still closed. Frances rested her forehead against his, and a modicum of relaxation spread across Gene’s shoulders. Maybe they really could do this.

“I love you, you asshole.”

“I know.”

Gene took her hand, and much to her surprise, felt it yanked forward, violently, with more force than a man.

The sickening crack and snap and bend of steel hit her ears, and splinters of glass buffeted her skin, embedding in the soft flesh of her exposed arms, past the thin fabric protecting her legs. The side of Frances’s head slammed into the dash with a hearty “thwack”, the airbags deploying almost a second too soon, and she gasped. Warmth dragged languidly down her temple, and she felt a shooting pain in her arm, fading into the feeling of pins and needles.

Terrified of what she knew she’d see, or rather what she didn’t know she’d see, Frances squeezed her eyes further shut.

She patted an arm around to the seat next to her, trying to feel for something, anything. A leg, an arm, a head, something.

Nothing. All she felt was the dip in the seat from where Gene sat.

Scared eyes opened to the light of a semi casting her shadow onto the windshield, and bringing notice to the fact that there was a body laying limp across the hood of the car.

Gene.

It was Gene.

Frances scrambled to open the door, shouting, screaming obscenities and pleads, her eyes welling up with tears once more.

The passenger door creaked and groaned with her adrenaline fueled efforts, the back having been crushed by the ramming it had just received, eventually budging open enough for her to squeeze out.

Frances presses her back tight against the frame of the car, managing to narrowly get out, her pajama pants ripping on a piece of metal twisted sharp, burying its point in the flesh of her calf as she pulled past it. Frances gasped in pain, finding herself outside the car, walking barefoot on broken glass.

She hardly felt the glass in her feet, running to the front of the car and trying to look at Gene.

His chest did not move, and his mouth did not speak when she called his name once again.

Gently, with the touch a mother holds her newborn, Frances turned his head, biting her lip out of fear of the unknown.

She screamed in response to the horrific sight- Gene’s jaw had busted into two, his left eye cleaved neatly by a large piece of glass. His throat was decorated with sharp pieces of glass deciding to make his trachea their new home, and his one saved eye was filled with blood and staring lifelessly at the sky. His blood was across her hands, steaming in the nighttime cold, the air sapping what warmth his now empty body had in it.

Frances shuddered, sobbing and shaking, pressing her hands against her chest, desperate to take what little of him he’d left before he’d been so cruelly yanked from this world. She covered her mouth with a soaked palm, leaving its red-stained impression before she went to the side of the road, crying.

Frances fell to her knees and wretched, emptying herself of what was left of the dinner the two of them shared, and ridding her body of one more thing he’d had something to do with.

The sour taste of bile invaded her senses as she rose to her feet, and saw a shadow begin to loom over her. She had realized the driver of the semi was just now getting out, and when she turned to confront them, she was shoved to the ground again, her face shoved into what was previously her stomach contents. She didn’t see her assailant, her boyfriend’s murderer. But Frances has heard his voice, thick with what was either raw enjoyment or regret.

“Sorry you got involved. But you know what happened, and you can’t go.”

Frances stiffened with fear as something cold and hard pressed to the back of her head.

As she realized this was her death, she relaxed. Frances simply let her body go limp.

“Get on with it, you rotten bastard.”

She heard the safety click, and she closed her eyes.

What she hadn’t managed to hear was the rumble of another semi passing by, one that was a Good Samaritan and had called authorities to report the screaming barefoot woman on the backroad.

She heard the sirens, and she felt the metal leave her skull, footsteps crunching as they raced across the grass beside the road, the rustle of trees as the murderer disappeared into the night.

Frances sat up, wiping her face of vomit and grass with her sleeve, and stared into the face of a police officer, an older black man with silvering temples and a strong set to his jaw. Wrinkles in his forehead grew stronger as he peered further down at her.

“What the hell happened to you, child?” He asked, and Frances simply blinked.

“I left everything. And then I lost everything.”

Tag list!

@mephxles

@kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

@kissmyspaceace

@ashlethenggm

@spacefoxy-jen

@spacefoxy-irl

[moonwaterart]

Here’s a silly little fnaf x reader fic I finished at 3:30AM this morning. I really hope y’all enjoy it.

Pizza Casanova (Chubby!Reader x Rockstar Bonnie)

This was supposed to be an amazing night. You’d just gotten back into the dating scene after years and years of putting it off due to how disastrous your last relationship was. You’d moved cities and just made a small life for yourself after your breakup four years ago and now you wanted to try again. You’d made an account on Tinder and matched with a pretty nice guy named Anthony. Nice on the eyes, dirty blond hair, hazel eyes and a tan from spending his summer on beaches.

You, on the other hand had no tan. You were on the bigger side -a size 18- but that didn’t stop you from wanting to really wow this guy. You two seemed to hit it off. You weren’t looking for a one-night sort of thing, just a casual date. You had both agreed to meet at a fancy restaurant around 5pm on that Thursday and you spent the week figuring out what to wear to impress this guy.

When the day came you got ready early. You found the prettiest dress online and it came relatively quickly and thankfully was just as advertised. It was a nice silky lavender sundress without sleeves and a fake diamond and silver clasped belt around the waist. Not to mention, it had pockets. You absolutely loved it and it matched so well with the white high heels, leggings and shawl you picked out from your closet. You wore some small silver earrings and a diamond necklace to match and actually did your makeup. Nothing over the top, just a simple eyeliner and lip gloss on foundation. You curled your hair and got it nice and once it was time to leave, you did, tossing a pair of ballet flats into your car just incase you needed them.

You got to the restaurant around 4:55pm and messaged Anthony.

(Y/N): Hey! I’m here at (fancy restaurant)! Do you want me to get us a table or should I just wait until you get here?

You slid your phone into one of the dress pockets and waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes…

You pull your phone back out and message him again.

(Y/N): you almost here?

More time passes and soon you’d been waiting for almost half an hour. You were cold, your feet were starting to hurt and you were hungry. As you’re about to send yet another text, you get a message from Anthony.

Anthony: Hey, sorry, I can’t make it tonight. We can always shoot for another time. I’m out with my buds and I totally spaced.

Your face felt hot with embarrassment and anger. You’ve been waiting for this guy to get here so you two could go on a date and he does this?!

(Y/N): will there be a ‘next time’ or are you just saying that to make me feel better? I’ve been waiting for you for half an hour to get here and you tell me you can’t make it?!

Anthony: yeah, sorry. My bros needed me.

(Y/N): Then screw this. There won’t be a next time.

You unmatch with the jerk then and there and delete the app immediately after. You were upset and embarrassed. You got all dolled up just to be stood-up! To be ghosted! Bump this! You slowly walk back to your car and get in. Your stomach growled and dammit, you were hungry, but not for this place. Not anymore. You needed to calm down and distress and dammit, you needed a pizza. Pizza sounded fantastic. You started driving and passed a few places you knew with good pizza until you saw a sign next to the mall parking lot:

‘Freddy’s Rockstar Family Fun Center’

Huh… you haven’t been to a fun center since you were in high school. It could be a good place to unwind. You turn into the buildings parking lot and find somewhere to park among the small sea of cars already there. You ditch your heels for the black flats your thankfully remembered to throw in and ditched your shawl as well. Were you a bit to dolled up for this sort of place? Yes. Did you care at this point? Not one bit.

Stepping through the doors was almost magical seeing as how your night had gone so far. The bright and colorful decor, the ambient sounds of parents and children chatting and screaming happily, and the smell of fresh greasy food. Oh yes. You needed this.

You make your way to the front counter where a teenage boy perked up at your presence.

“Welcome to Freddy’s! Aren’t you a bit dolled up to be coming here?” He asked in a playful manner.

You chuckle. “Yeah, but after the evening I’ve had, I need it. Do I need to check in or what? This is my first time coming here.”

“Really? That’s great! Well will you be dining with us tonight?” He asked, pulling out a menu from behind the counter. “We also have an arcade and laser tag if your interested.”

“That all sounds good. Hell yeah I'm dining in.”

“Awesome! Then I’d recommend the ‘Funtime Experience’. Not only would you get to have a full meal and desert, but the table is reserved for you until you leave. Not only that, but you get a card with like, fifty plays to spend at the arcade plus access to the laser tag arena. Also the wrist band is really cool.” While he was talking, he pulled out a small card and wristband each were white with colorful polka dots on it with the words ‘Funtime’ written in gold bubbly letters.

“I’ll take it then. Momma’s got some steam to blow off.” You pay for the package and the teen puts the wristband on you and hands you your arcade card before calling over a waitress to take you to your table.

As you weave through the crowd, you step through an archway and down a few steps into a closed off dining room made to look like a concert hall. With two floors for people dining in. The floor seemed to be for larger parties save for a few spots made for parties of one or two.

“Would you like to sit by the stage tonight. Freddy and his friends will be performing their last show for the day in a few minutes.” The waitress said in a chipper tone.

You shrugged. “Why not? Could be fun.”

“It totally is! Our boss made sure these models were state of the art with full body movement and AI that learns as it grows! Plus the band knows hundreds of popular songs and has a few of their own songs! They even do skits with their caretaker. It’s a sight to behold!” She led you to one of the smaller tables near the left side of the stage where she set your menu down. “Here you go! I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu and be right back! Can I get you a drink?”

“Can I get a soda?”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me.”

She let out a laugh and nodded. “You got it chief! I’ll be right back!”

She turned on her heel and left through a side entrance with a curtain and you sat to look at the menu. There was standard stuff any pizzeria would have along with burgers, fries, a whole panel of deserts and a ‘custom pizza’ option. Though that all sounded good, you were in the mood for just a slice of pepperoni some fries and a milkshake. Your stomach growled once more as you thought about how good that all sounded.

You made up your mind and set the menu aside before pulling out your phone to browse the web you checked all your usual sites and sighed. Looks like your best friend got engaged today. That’s nice… your mom was posting a new recipe she found and your dad sent you a meme he found funny over text which made you chuckle sadly. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and here you were; at a kids restaurant waiting on a soda looking like at least a hundred dollars in your opinion. You felt the embarrassment creep up on you again and you felt a few tears threatening to fall. You grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on your table and patted them away. You were NOT crying in a family setting, no sir! Not you! You could cry on your way home like anyone else would!

Once the waitress came back and took your order after giving you a glass of Grape Fanta and left just as a woman dressed in a white blouse and black pants walked on stage. She wore a red vest with the logo of the company on it just over her clothes and she quickly fixed her chocolate colored hair, her mossy colored eyes scanning the crowd as the lights dimmed and focused on her.

“How’s everyone doing tonight? I hope you’ve had a fun day here at Freddy’s!” A few people in the crowd cheered and you could have sworn you heard a few kids happily yelled ‘Yeah’s at the woman. She chuckled.

“Awesome! Well, as you know, it's about time for us to wind down here, but not before we go out with a bang! Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls!! Give it up for Freddy and his rockin’ band!” The curtains behind her drew back and their on stage were four larger than life mascots. A tan bear, a yellow bird, a red fox, and a purple bunny. The woman ran offstage and the band started their little concert. 

You watched in awe as the band played and sang in perfect harmony, their motions were so fluid, they put the animatronics at Universal and Disneyland to shame. Did you see one just fix their stance? You had to give it to this place, it seemed like every young kids dream. A little paradise away from reality. Your paradise away from reality.

After the first song, your food came out and you thanked your waitress before she left once again to tend to other tables. The band did a small skit where they talked about a funny thing that happened to one of them and the other poked fun. Although it was funny, your mind began to wander back to earlier that night and your smile dropped. You went back to eating, but you could have sworn you were being watched.

—-

The woman in the front row was dressed oddly for being here. As Bonnie played his guitar and sang with his friends, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the dolled-up woman in the beautiful lavender dress. The lights made it hard to see anything passed the stage, but if he really focused, he could see her. 

To put it into words, the periwinkle bunny was enamored by her. He was sure of it. Though, he found it odd that she was here alone. Why was she here of all places looking like she just stepped out of a photo shoot? Wait… did he see her lip quiver? A note wrote itself into his routine; ‘Cheer up ‘Doll’’. That’s what he was meant to do, right? Cheer others up? He was able to cheer people up on a daily basis! Surely this would be the same…

Only, it didn’t feel the same. Looking at her made him think, which made him fumble in his notes. A few chuckles and ‘ooh’s go through the crowd as the band stopped and looked at the bunny.

“Now that’s something you don’t do everyday.” Freddy teased.

“Yer not one t’ mess up, lad.” Foxy quipped. Bonnie felt his mechanical parts heat up in embarrassment. He was a perfectionist when he played. What was the deal?!

“Heh. Finger slip.” He retorted, rubbing the back of his head. He needed to think of something. A lie. A little white lie to further this excuse. Oh he wasn’t good with lies. “You know how it goes. Got too into the music that I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t fret Bon! Coulda happened to anyone.” Chica piped up.

The band share a laugh and their performance continues, Bonnie couldn’t help but notice the girl was now watching with a look of curiosity and wonder on her face.

The show went on without another screw-up and the band bid the small crowd goodnight before the curtains closed again. The group let out a sigh of relief as they each felt their audio receptors return to their default mode before speaking to one another again.

“Was it just a slip-up, Bonnibel? Ye never slip-up.” Foxy inquired. Bonnie nodded quickly and set his guitar on its stand.

“It was. Like I said, I just got too into the music and wasn’t paying any mind to what I was doing, Foxy.” He fixed his bow tie and looked to the band, flashing a smile. “I’m going to ask Miss Lindsay if I can wonder the fun center until closing.”

“You know that’s a tossup, Bonnie. Just because Lindsay would let us, doesn’t mean the boss-man would.” Freddy tried to reason.

“Then there’s no harm in asking or even just doing it.” He shrugged. “If anything happens, it’ll be my fault, so I’ll see you fellows later.” With a wink and a small bow, he slipped out from behind the curtains and off the stage. He had a goal in mind, the note coming back to the front of his to-do list; Cheer up ‘Doll’.

—-

You had made your way to the arcade after the performance. Even though it was pretty fun to watch and listen to as you ate, your mind continued to wonder to earlier that night. Maybe Anthony really did forget? Maybe you got the date wrong? Did you jump off the rails by deleting that app? Hundreds of things were running through your mind and your lip quivered yet again. Dammit. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry in public. It makes you feel like a child. Bathroom. Gotta find the bathroom and breath…

“You seem like you have a lot on your mind, Miss.” That low toned voice…

You looked over to the voice and see that periwinkle bunny from the band… Bonnie was his name, right?

“I...I guess you could say that… yeah.” You mutter. You notice as his ears twitch at your response. “S-sorry… I’m just having a weird night.”

“You seem like you need someone to vent to.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt…”

He stuck his hand out to you and you took it. He rose it to his muzzle and pressed the back of your hand to where his lips were as if to kiss it. “Then let us walk and talk… shall we, Miss?”

You felt heat on your face and you nod. He hooked his arm with yours and you two started walking around. You seemed dainty and small compared to the animatronic, but you felt… safe. It seemed like the world melted around you and it was just the two of you. Bonnie lead you to a quiet part of the fun center before talking.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you looked quite upset from time to time during my performance tonight.” he started, looking down at you. “I know it must be a cliche thing to ask, but what’s a beautiful woman all dolled up like you are doing in a place like this?”

"It been just a stupid night..." You reply. "I thought I would have a good night. Meet a new guy, have some dinner together.... But he didn't bother showing up." You felt tears prick your eyes and this time, you just let them fall.

"I got all dressed nicely... I-I actually tried to look nice! I thought...I-I th-thought I would be given a chance... b-but look at me! I'm at a fun center in a dress among a sea of families and kids looking so out of place! I-I just wanna go home and cry and binge a-and-"

Bonnie pulled you into a hug and let you cry, slowly letting the two of you sit on the floor. Well… he was sitting on the floor, you sat on his lap and cried into his furry chest. He honestly didn’t know what to do other then hold you and let you cry. He looked at you and pat your back, whispering words of comfort. After a few minutes, you pulled away and he wiped your tears. Although it smears your make-up, he looks at you with a soft expression.

“Well I don’t think this person knows what he’s missing. You’re a beautiful woman and the night isn’t over yet!” He stood the two of you back up and took your hand again. “Why don’t you and I go to the arcade. I know a few tips and tricks that we could use to get a few jackpots.”

You look at him, wiping a few more stray tears away. “You… you mean you know how to cheat the machines?”

“I wouldn’t call it cheating… I would call it finding loopholes.” He gave you a wink and you let out a small laugh.

“Then lead the way Bonnie.”

---

The arcade was fun and Bonnie was right; he did know a few ‘tips and tricks’ and by tricks, he meant he knew how to bypass the settings each machine had and set it to their default settings making it easier to win the big jackpots. His antics with sidestepping questions from the employees made you laugh. He was so suave until he was asked to explain what he was doing. This turned him into a babbling buffoon trying to come up with excuses which would turn into him scooping you up and booking it in the other direction. This would make you laugh as he would find places for the two of you to hide from the arcade employees.

You’d only come out of hiding once he said it was okay and not even a minute later he was bypassing the settings of arcade machines. Rinse and repeat. You only stopped once Bonnie was told that his ‘manager’ would be called since she’d been looking for him for a good hour by now and it was ‘passed his bedtime’. He lead you to the prize counter and helped you pick out a prize. Given he helped you cheat the system, you had enough points on your card for some of the major prizes. You decided on plushies of the band and you’d pocket the rest of the points for when you’d come back another day. Saying those words made Bonnie’s ears perk even more than they already were. 

You’d be back? You wanted to come back? He smiled brightly. He felt genuinely happy at her words. They meant he’d be able to see you more. As you two left the prize corner with your new plushies and made your way to the front entrance, you heard a woman’s voice call out towards you.

“Bonnibel! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You two turned around and you saw the same woman that introduced the band when you were eating. She marched over and looked up at Bonnie, a stern motherly look on her face. “You were supposed to be in the back an hour ago!”

“I know Miss Lindsay. I honestly do, but I had something I had to do.”

“And that would be…?” He gestured to you and that’s when the woman finally noticed you, a look of surprise crossing her features. “Oh! I’m sorry ma’am! I’ve just been really worried about him. If he and the others don’t get their recharge, they won’t last the full day tomorrow.”

“It’s okay miss.” You reply. “He’s actually been keeping me company. I should be the one to apologize. If I’d known he needed his rest, I wouldn’t have-”

“You don’t need to apologize for you being upset, Miss.” Bonnie reassured you. He looked to his manager. “I know tomorrow will be rough for me, Miss Lindsay, but could I please walk her out before I go to the back? I would like to say goodnight to her.”

She looked between the two of you and something in her mind clicked. She gave you a small smile and nodded. “Of course Bon…” She looked to you. “I hope you’re feeling better ma’am and that you had a wonderful time here.”

“I did… Bonnie here made it the best first visit I could have asked for. I honestly can’t wait to come back.” You stated. The woman’s smile brightened.

“That’s great! Everyone’s experiences here should be magical. In fact, no two visits are alike! Anything could happen here. Trust me. It’s been an adventure working here.” She looked back to Bonnie. “I’ll be waiting in the back with your recharger.”

“Thank you, Miss Lindsay.”

The brunette nodded walked off, leaving you two alone again as parents, children, and some employees were leaving for the night around you. You looked at one another and yet again, the world around you faded as he lead you to the front doors and stopped.

“This is as far as I can go, Miss.” The bunny told you. “I wish I could escort you further, but it’s against the rules.”

“It’s okay, Bonnie.” You reassure him, rearranging the toys in your arms so you could carry them without dropping them on the asphalt outside. “I enjoyed our time together. I honestly haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

“Well I’m glad I could give you that tonight, Miss…”

“It’s (Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He crouched slightly to be eye-level with you. “And don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

“I think after tonight, I’ll have a pretty high standard for my dates thanks to you, Bonnie.”

“You flatter me, Miss (Y/N). I’ll be counting the days until you come back.”

You let out a small laugh and kiss his muzzle. “And I’ll be back soon, don’t worry your little bunny head, Bonnie.”

He felt his machinery heat up once more and he let out a laugh as he stood back up. “I’ll hold you to that. You have my word if I have yours.”

“And you do.” You turn to leave and stop, looking back to him. “Thank you, Bonnie. I hope you have an amazing night.”

“And the same to you, Miss (Y/N). Drive safely and have pleasant dreams.”

Leaving the fun center that night left you gitty for the next time you would make an appearance at the building. Your night had gone from bad to amazing. If you were to go back in time, you wouldn’t change a thing. You just hoped next time would be just as amazing and you had a feeling it would be.

[elsewhereuniversity]

What These Kids Found Under the University Dumpster May Shock You

The first thing it heard when it awakened were footsteps. Not one or two or three, but many. After that were sounds of many tones. Even without memory, it knew that they were not noises found anywhere in the wild. They were… Curious. Indescribable.

“I think this is a better place than any to hangout.” It would later remember, looking back. It was a melodic sound, almost comparable to the wind playing with the hair of the trees so far in the distance.

“B-but… Pearl, was it?” A second, deeper sound seemed to sputter. This sound was like a low hum it could barely remember from their past. Perhaps during their slumber. Perhaps even farther. The thought slipped through the cracks in its mind. “T-this is a Denny’s. The back of a Denny’s.”

“But this is also Elsewhere, Gem. For all we know, what they told us was true, and faeries are about. For all we know,” They was a horrible grating noise, as the world beneath it seemed to shake with protest. It stopped as suddenly as it started. “It could just be more bogus fake news and the school is full of druggies!”

There was a pause of silence. Then: “Oh, come on. Didn’t you tell me during orientation that this was your dream school? That out of all the Universities that accepted you, you chose here?”

“Yeah but-”

“Then it’s settled. I’m going to go tell the others. You go tell your brother what’s his face-”

“Moon.”

“Yeah, him.” The thuds came again, just like in the beginning, except they were fast, and they were receding. With a sigh, the other followed. And this thing that they had awakened? It continued to stay under the dumpster of the Elsewhere Campus Denny’s.

 Later that day, the two students came again, accompanied by three others. Two women giggled as they conversed with one of the men, while the other man stayed with the last woman, trailing behind in silence.

“Here! Right here!” The woman from before - Pearl - spun in a flourish, her blond hair dancing behind her, as she introduced the back of the Denny’s like the theatrical performer she was. The woman who had been beside her laughed, pleased. Her hair was green at the time, swaying like the leaves. The man who had talked to them gaped in mock surprise, his black hair wet and dripping. The red haired female and the male from before - Gem - both continued to stand in silence. At one point, they probably glanced at each other like Seriously? however that time had long passed.

“Love the positivity Moon, Rainbow. But I didn’t hear the people in the back!”

The girl gave a small and reluctant “whoop”. Gem only shook their head, conveying that they preferred to be anywhere but there.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” He said. Pearl only tsked.

The group spread out to explore: some eagerly, a few reluctantly.  The girl from the back noticed something reflect the light from the shadow that cast by the chain restaurant as she lay on a grassy field nearby to test it’s comfort. Approaching, she realized that what she saw did not come from eye level, but beneath it; under the dumpster. Half disgusted yet half curious, she reached down and pulled out an object, something so unexpectedly massive that she had to use her other hand to grab the other she nudged with the back of her hand blindly.

They were two impossibly perfect glass orbs. Both identical, 4 inches in diameter, surprisingly light, barely small enough to fit one in one hand. She examined them as her friends gathered close, looking at the immaculate objects in awe. Too beautiful to be man made, yet too clean to be of nature. It can only be something divine.

Whilst examining, the girl’s bracelet of iron slid down her wrist, stopping with a klink on the surface of the glass.

The effect was immediate. The orbs came to life at once, both shining as brightly as the sun, if not more. She dropped it, and if not for the shadow, would have broken the items. Instead, the darkness caught it, letting the glass hover an inch above the ground, steadily rising about 2 feet. The light dimmed to a more bearable amount, now that the iron had gone, and stared at what was possibly the first organisms to ever ingrain themselves in their memory.

The humans gaped, both in surprise and in fear. For they now understood that the campus and its people did not lie: Faeries exist on the campus grounds.

It was the red haired girl first who unfroze, taking care to hide her iron under her sleeve before slowly moving her hand towards them; not to pick up, but just to feel the cool surface under her fingers. Although it was impossible to tell, she knew that it was looking right in her eyes. She gave a small smile.

“Hey there, kid. Call me Star.”

In the presence of the group, the Fae felt… It didn’t know what it felt, but it was like for the first time, they were living. Not an object that was left to be forgotten, but a creature that was meant to be remembered. Although the group made sounds they didn’t understand, this creature habiting in shadow knew that it was accepted as a member of the group. However, it was difficult to interact and join them when they couldn’t speak. The biggest way of telling the world that you exist is to communicate, after all. And the group seemed to understand this. It was Rainbow - her hair violet that day - who suggested Morse code. Moon who helped Gem print pages upon pages of research on the subject. Pearl who bought the laser pointers, flashlights, mountains of batteries, and filled everyone’s bowls with cream or milk when they were too tired or too busy to do it themselves. And Star, with her voice softer than the scattering of grass on a cloudy day, who helped them associate sound with blinks of light.

When the day came when everyone was confident in its ability to communicate, they chose Star as the first word that it said.

“Me?” She had asked, bewildered. “Why my name?”

In her lap were the orbs, lit up and blinking. She balanced them on the side of her knees as she sat cross-legged, each hand on one orb to keep it steady. Her iron was hidden high up her arm, in fear of harming it.

“You’re the one who taught it.” Moon said, giving her a grin that ladies would do anything for. It didn’t sway Star though, and that was clear.

“Without you, they would still be under that dumpster.” Rainbow added.

“You’re the one who found it.” Pearl unknowingly restated.

“And,” Gem finished. “You clearly have the strongest bond with them.”

She looked down at the peculiar Fae, who she could tell was looking up at her in turn. With a sigh, she put the orbs under the protection of shadow, where it hovered up to their eye level.

“Okay kiddo. Remember what we taught you.” She said slowly, allowing the Fae to mull over the words, understand them and their meanings. “Star. Ss. T. Ar.”

S-T-I-R it blinked out, very slowly. She smiled kindly and repeated the syllables. It was hard and slow, but eventually-

[S… Sta… a…r] it said, and after hours of silence, the whole group exploded in celebration. Rainbow picked up the orbs and kissed them, Pearl hugged them tightly, Moon tossed them in the air, and Gem just patted them on the head with a “Good Job” and a smile. And throughout all of this was Star, who was just amazed.

Months pass, and the orbs have learned to say the names of everyone in the group, and has started to join in on conversations they had about their time in Elsewhere. As much as they enjoyed it, the best times seemed to be the nights where they wake up to find Star setting up camp in the grassy field nearby, surrounding herself in a circle of salt and iron, leaving her bowl of cream just outside. On these days, it moved out of the comfort of the dumpster and travelled until they reached the circle, where she would always open it up for them and close it afterwards. She would let it snuggle beside her as she taught it everything she knew about the lights in the sky, and spun tales about the great spoon or its zodiac “children” until the light faded from the orbs.

The group realized they needed a name for their Faerie friend, and it was Star who recommended Shad, after the blanket of shadows it always moved under. And so Shad it became, and Shad it would always be. With a name, Shad felt like the group could be together forever, and that it was permanent.

The last night Shad saw Star, she never told them a story. They hovered up to stare at their friend, worried.

[is ok] they asked with a tilt of their orbs. Star only smiled and rubbed the orbs, a wonderful sensation to them. It was a sign of being a part of a group, they thought. It was a sign of friendship.

“Yeah, kiddo. Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry.” She murmured, the petting turning to stroking the side of one orb once before she got under her covers and they fell asleep together. The next morning, they woke up under the dumpster once more. No one came to visit that day.

And the next.

The days became a week.

And then two weeks.

It was reaching almost three when Shad’s friends finally returned, but there was something wrong when they went to greet them. Something very, very wrong indeed.

Star was not with them.

They told it right then, that Star had been missing for weeks. That a body was found in the campus swimming pool, that it was a boy’s, and that grinning and hissing and singing the sweetest songs right beside it was a thing with Star’s face. They believed she was dead. Shad knew that in a way, they were right. The Star in the water both was and was not the one who laughed made Shad feel human. Who’s stories made them feel belonged.

The loss broke Shad. But even though Rainbow, Pearl, Gem, and Moon were able to put them back together, there were still things that they couldn’t fix. They cowered away from hands trying to pet them. They hid from the word “kiddo”.

They still joined the conversations - now mostly rumors that float around the school - but whenever someone offered to tell a fictional story, they would always find a way to leave.

It seemed as if when Star had passed, they took a part of Shad with them.

Perhaps it was a mercy. Perhaps it was a punishment for how they acted towards what remained of their friends. But one day, the humans ran to Shad, the happiest they’ve been for a long time.

Before they could ask, they were picked up by Pearl and she twirled until they felt dizzy.

“We were invited to a party Shad! Probably the first big one I’ve seen on campus!”

“They only invited a few people.” Moon added. “The host slides the invitations under doors, so it’s hard to get picked.” He watched Pearl with a longing. They had noticed that more and more often. They didn’t know what it meant, but possibly it was a good thing?

The look reminded them of Star so they turned to Gem, who was frowning. Rainbow was with the other two, celebrating. Gem looked down at Shad, who was put back down in the shadows.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I-I mean, we don’t even know who hosts them. What if they’re one of the-”

“Then,” Rainbow interrupted, walking over to him. “We’ll die of having fun.” She pushed him playfully at his concerned face. “Oh come on. Life is short. Our lives are short. Well, shorter than Shad’s, probably.” She nodded at them, and not knowing what to do, they nodded back. “Come to the party. Enjoy the liquor that may or may not be served there. Can’t be that bad, right?”

She turned to look back at them when she said it. Everyone was looking at them. Conformation. That it was safe. That the humans could go. Even if they didn’t really understand human thoughts and most of the words, Shad could tell that this event was something that meant a lot to their friends.

[Go to parti] They answered finally. Pearl seemed to smile wider. Moon patted their brother on the back.

“See, even the Faerie themselves agree that you should go. Relax. You need it. You haven’t done it in years.”

Gem nodded reluctantly, and saying their farewells to Shad, they all walked away, chatting. Shad watched, feeling as if they had done something right. Something good. Something… Human.

But then, the next morning Shad woke to disturbance in the air. Everything felt wrong. The last time they woke up like this was… So very long ago. They heard footsteps in the distance. Chatter. Whoops of laughter, but it felt wrong. It all felt horribly wrong.

They peeked out from under the dumpster, dangerously close to where the dark and the light meet, and what they saw made them feel - for the first time - terror.

It was a line of humans, all giggles and laughter. They chattered like nothing was wrong while someone lead them towards the trees. In the back, they spotted their friends. It might have all been fine except the one leading was not human and the forest was not a normal forest, but rather the Forest, a place too dangerous for humans to go to alone.

The place that humans go to be Taken.

Shad tried to move, but trying to get out of the shadow felt like running headfirst into a brick wall. They pushed hard against their limits, with will, with all their strength. But physics doesn’t work like that, and so neither will mundane shadows. But Shad was not a mundane creature. Elsewhere was not a mundane school.

[Frends] They said to themself, as the panic rose, as the shouts and laughter seemed to fade. [Sav frends]

In front of them, they saw a figure start to form. Featureless, with arms and legs. A memory, long gone, but it was enough.

[Humans] Shad’s orbs brightened in determination. [need to be human to help human]

Then it happened. The unseeable wall seemed to crumble. The orbs moved out of the dark, and with it came the shadows itself, creating a human like shape for them. They felt something like strings tether them to the ground, and looked to see two stick like things. The things their friends called legs.

Things they moved with.

At first, Shad stumbled. They had no time. Even if they moved terribly. It was better than staying still. They half tripped, half ran towards the group. Towards the Forest.

It was too late.

Ducking under branches, stumbling over rock, they finally were close enough to see the last one In the little line-up. It was Gem.

Hope blossomed inside them. Gem. The most human. Everyone called them the most logical, the safest. Safe was positive. Logic was a word associated with humans, so it was positive. Perhaps they could save him.

[Gem] They blinked, trying to get their attention. [Gem Gem Gem Gem Gem]

Perhaps they recognized the morse code, or perhaps it was just the light that flickered and made figures in the trees. Whatever it was, they stopped and turned. Shad was about to say more, when they faltered.

Gem’s eyes were blank. Shad didn’t understand it, but it was as if his eyes were also covered in glass. The black dots didn’t move.

[Gem Gem Gem Gem Gem] Shad chanted desperately. [Gem Gem Gem]

The boy didn’t react. They slowly turned, and went to catch up to the group, who were steadily shrinking into the distance.

Shad took a shaky step forward to follow, but then suddenly the branches dipped down, one after the other, until it created a wall. A wall that didn’t let them through. When it broke apart hours later, Shad searched for what felt like a long time, but were mere human minutes. It was as if the group had disappeared, and with them, the last of Shad’s friends.

Something they did find though, was what made Shad stop the search, partly out of sorrow, and partly out of the need of rest.

It was a very fluffy sweater, hanging from a branch of a tree. Shad remembered it as what Rainbow used to wear during the time when the leaves turned into colours that they had never seen. It was white, with a rainbow image in the middle which sparkled in the light of Shad’s eyes. With great difficulty, they put it on, not wanting to leave it behind. Since they had no arms, the sleeves fell limp at their sides, and they watched them sway with curiosity before walking back to Elsewhere, careful to stay in the light so that the sweater would not fall away from their shadow body.

They waited, hoping under the dumpster. Hoping that they would come back.

They waited weeks, with nothing.

Then months.

Then a year.

They don’t remember how much time had passed. Just that one day, they woke up to the sight of a large group of humans entering the Elsewhere building. A new semester had started again. They watched wistfully at the humans. Wishing to enter the school. Wishing to experience what their friends must have once done.

“Well, why don’t you?”

Suddenly, in front of them, Shad saw a girl peer down. A girl with red hair, curious eyes, and a shy smile.

[Star] Shad said, moving closer. But she tsked.

“No, kiddo. I’m just in your head. A memory, I guess.” Shad only seemed confused. “Anyway, you should. Go into Elsewhere I mean. You wanted to be human, and you’ve always showed interest in what happens in there. And with a body, you can wander. Make more friends. They found me in the swimming pool, didn’t they? Say hi. I must be lonely.” She shrugged.

[wat do in elswher] They asked. [dont no]

“Well, you can always be a theater major, like Pearl. English major, like Rainbow. Learn tech like Gem. But I wouldn’t really suggest sports. Doesn’t seem like your thing.”

[An wat did u do] They asked. Her smile faltered.

“You don’t know the word. You’ve never heard it before.” She replied softly. “But just remember that I’m Star.”

And just as quickly as she came, she disappeared. Immediately, Shad moved out from under the dumpster, and ran to the entrance, slipping in with everyone else, both Fae and human alike. Not knowing where to go, they sped down the halls, ignoring the whispers and stares, grateful for everyone avoiding them without knowing exactly why.

“Hey there, slow down.” A deep voice said, quite louder than they expected. Apparently at some point, Shad had stopped watching where they were going and started to run blindly. Right into a human man, who watched them curiously, holding onto their armless shoulders. “You should look where you’re going.”

[did not] They admitted. [was lukin at nothin] Looking up, they saw the man was staring with a strange intensity.

“You remind me…” He started, then paused. “Of a former student. She asked me everything I knew about the Fae, having teaching at this school for so long with the Sight.” He tapped his glasses and chuckled. They didn’t really understand any of that. “I presume you may know who I am talking about?”

They nodded, cautiously. He held up his pointer finger as he opened his bag and ruffled through it.

“She told me that if something were to happen to her or any of her friends, that if I happen to see you in the building, I should give you this.”

Out of his bag, he pulled out something grey. At first, it didn’t seem special, until they recognized the pattern created by the white lines was a familiar image. There were words on the top, and although Shad couldn’t read, they could tell what it said.

“Elsewhere University”

He unfolded the sweater, and seeing the orbs brighten in surprise made him give another small chuckle.

“Here, I’ll help you put it on.” He said, and Shad didn’t protest as he flipped the shirt over and got prepared to pull it over their head. But not before Shad saw something that felt more familiar than the Elsewhere crest.

5 words, each written differently in white fabric marker. They saw these words enough that they just knew what these said too.

“Rainbow”

“Pearl”

“Gem”

“Moon”

And of course

“Star”

They looked down at themselves, at the crest, the signatures now invisible once more.

“So I’m assuming you’re here for a major. Which one are you going to…” He trailed off.

The memory of earlier surfaced. “Just remember that I’m Star.” She had said.

They looked from their new sweater to the man.

[Im Shad an I lik Star] They said, not knowing what else to say. He laughed.

“What a funny little Fae you are. I assume you’re just a child, your eyes are all confident. Well, I’m sure you’re saying something, but whatever it is, I feel horrible for not understanding. However, Star was a hard working student before she left, and I can feel you may be the same. Come child,” He said, stepping forward and beckoning. “Let me take you to Astronomy.”

x

[captainmercer20]

Dreams Become Reality - Part 1-Chapter 1

Captain Ed Mercer was on bridge with his crew as it was a dull day.  Gordon and the other Helmsman was mapping out stars.  “Ugh!"  Gordan complained, "There has got to be more then just mapping or supply runs.”

Ed chuckled as he didn’t even look up from his tablet.  “At this point, I rather it be dull.  I think we have more adventure then we counted on.”

Gordon turned to him.  “But isn’t that the point of being on a Union ship, the adventure.”

Ed put his tablet down and looked at him with a smile.  “Yes, but also this is as well.  The dull is good sometimes.  I rather it be quiet.”

Gordon huffed as he turned back to the panel.  Just then Bortus said, “Sir, there is a Krill ship not too far from her.”

Kelly looked at Ed as she said, almost annoyed, “So much for it being dull.”

“Are they heading our way?"  Ed asked concerned.  After everything with Janal who was actually a Krill agent, Teleya, Ed wasn’t exactly excited to deal with Krill again.  He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with the Krill for a while especially since he let Teleya go.  

Bortus looked into more.  "No, sir."  He turned to the captain as he seemed confused.  "In fact, sir, the ship seems to be just sitting dead in space.  No engines going.  It’s like it has been abandon.”

“Can you see if there is anyone aboard?"  Ed now seemed to be puzzled.

Bortus turned back around and scanned the ship.  "We are too far.  We have to get closer to do so, sir.”

Ed wasn’t exactly thrilled to do such a thing.  Kelly looked at Ed.  “What should we do?  I mean, it could be some sort of a trap.”

He thought about it for a moment and then ordered, "Take us closer.”

“Sir?"  Gordon turned him, seemingly confused and worried.

"That is an order."  Ed said, sternly.

"Alright."  Gordon turned back to the panel.  "But if I die, I am haunting you.”

They flew till they saw the ship in view.  Ed moved forward in his seat.  “That is odd.  It seems to be just sitting there.”

Bortus then announced.  “Sir, I am only picking up one living lifeform and it is human.”

Ed now was more confused.  “And the crew?”

After pushing a few more buttons, he turned to Ed and said, “Sir, seems as if the crew is dead.  Ever single one of them.”

Ed was now even more confused.  Kelly asked, “You don’t think one human could have done this, do you?”

“I have never known a human to be able to take out a whole crew of Krill."  Then Ed stood up.  "Kelly, Bortus, you are with me.  I think we should see what the hell happened."  Then he looked at Gordon.  “Get us closer.  If you see any problems, get us out of here as fast as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”  Gordon quickly replied.

Kelly quickly stood.  "Do you think that is a good idea, Ed?”

He looked at her.  “We have to find out what happened on that ship, Kel.  And god knows if that human could possible be in trouble."  Kelly seemed unsure.  "Don’t worry, we will be prepared and arm ourselves.”

She sighed.  “Alright.”

Kelly and Ed walked off the bridge as Bortus followed behind them.  They got to the loading bay and got onto a shuttle.  They drove to the Krill ship and docked.  The door opened.  Ed looked at Bortus and Kelly.  “Now, we should prepared.  Whatever happened to this crew might still be a threat.”

Both Kelly and Bortus nodded in understanding and they all moved off the shuttle.  They walked around the ship for a few moments.  “Which way did you detect the human?”

Bortus took the lead.  “This way, sir.”

They kept moving around the ship till they got to a room that Ed recognized all too well.  “This is where they hold their prisoners.”

Kelly then asked, “How…"  Then quickly remembered.  "Nevermind.”

They walked in and looked around.  They noticed a cell that still had it’s forcefield up.  They looked in to see someone in it.  The individual was curled up in a corner.  “Open it."  Ed ordered Bortus.

Bortus moved over to the panel and pushed a few buttons.  The door opened and Kelly and Ed walked in.  They noticed it was a young woman.  She looked terrified.  They slowly moved towards her and she panicked as she couldn’t see them clearly.  "Don’t…don’t hurt me!”

They stopped and Ed then said, “There is nothing to be scared of.  I am Captain Ed Mercer with the USS Orville.  We are here to rescue you.”

She looked over at them as she still shook.  She looked unsure and scared.  She slowly sat up more and looked at them more.  Just then Bortus walked in.  She got scared again and went back to huddling in the corner.  “No!  I’m sorry.  Please!”

Ed stopped Bortus.  “Please wait outside for us.  Seems your presence is frightening her.  We have to ease her into it.”

Bortus nodded and walked out.  Ed slowly walked over to her.  “He’s gone."  She relaxed a little more and looked at Ed as she squinted her eyes.  "Are…are you human?”

Ed answered as he moved even closer to her and knelt in front of her.  “Yes, like I said, I am Captain Ed Mercer."  Then looked back at Kelly.  "And this is my first Lieutenant Commander Kelly Grayson.  We are here to help you."  She looked still scared.  Ed held out his hand.  "It’s okay, you are safe with us.”

The poor girl looked bruised up, beat up, and filthy.  Like she was tortured and there for a long while.  Probably was by the Krill.  She still seemed cautious but held a shaky hand out to Ed and took it.  He stood up as she stood with him.  He gave her a small smile.  “What is your name?”

She removed her hands from his and hugged herself as she said, softly, “Michelle Langley.”

“Well, Michelle.  We are going to take you back to our ship and we will have our doctor look over you, okay?"  Ed said, sweetly.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Michelle sat on a table in the lab as Dr. Finn looked over at her.  The light around her was dimmed as she complained that it hurt her eyes.  Kelly and Ed stood there as they had questions for her.  "What happened to you?”

Michelle watched Dr. Finn as she looked over her.  “I, uh, was on a Union ship, USS Odessey, I was just getting a ride to Crayton.  One of the helmsman and I took a Union shuttle to get to where I needed to be, when they came upon us.  They shot out the engines and brought us aboard, they killed the helmsman but they kept me prisoner.  They thought I was part of the Union and tortured me to get information.  But since I wasn’t part of the Union, I had no information.  They kept torturing me almost every day.  I don’t know how I managed to survived.  They kept me in that prison, feeding me scraps, like I was some animal.  Ever so often, they came in there and found new ways to torture me.  It was hell.”

“How long have you been there?"  Kelly asked.

"What day is it?"  She asked them.

Kelly and Ed looked at each other in confusion.  Then Ed turned to her as he answered, "May eighteenth.”

“Almost six months."  She answered.

"You poor girl."  Dr. Finn looked at her in shock.  "And they have tortured you all this time?”

Michelle hugged herself and nodded as tears flooded her eyes and one fell.  Ed breathed, “No wonder the lights hurt your eyes.  You adjusted to the lightening on their ship.”

Dr. Finn took a flashlight and tried to look into her eyes.  But as soon as the light hit Michelle’s eyes, she closed them and pulled away.  “Please, that hurts.”

“Okay, okay."  Dr. Finn pulled away.  "No lights.  But I can correct that, where the lights will not hurt your eyes.”

“And the blurriness?"  Dr. Finn looked at her confused.  "My vision, it…it has been declining.  Everything is blurry.  After they tortured me one time, my vision went to hell.  I haven’t been able to see correctly since.”

“What did they do exactly?"  Ed asked as he moved closer to her.

She again hugged herself as the tears built up again.  "They used a device that pried my eyelids open and shot a laser into my retina.  It was quite painful.  I screamed, begging them to stop."  She then sobbed.  "But they wouldn’t, they kept going.”

Ed moved closer to her.  Reflex kicked in and she backed away, almost frightened.  “Hey, hey."  Ed stopped his movements as he held his hands up.  "You are safe here.  No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

She untensed as she looked at him and nodded.  “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Ed gave her a reassuring smile.  “Nothing to be sorry for Michelle.”

Then Dr. Finn moved in and slowly moved her hands on Michelle’s arms.  “Let’s get you fixed up.  And to answer your question, yes, we can correct your vision.  We will fix you up in no time.”

For the first time in months, she smiled at Dr. Finn. “Thank you."  Then she looked at Ed and Kelly.  "All of you.  I thought I would never get out of there.  I am just ready to go home.”

Ed smiled at her.  “We will get you there and get you fixed up.”

Kelly and Ed started to move out the room and Ed stopped.  He looked back at her.  “I have to ask, what happened to the Krill on the ship.”

Michelle looked his way and shook her head.  “I don’t really know.  All I know is, I heard a lot of yelling and commotion.  Also shooting.  I couldn’t really see cause of my condition.  But I also was afraid and curled up in a corner of the prison cell.  I didn’t move till I heard nothing.  I called for help for two days, hoping someone would hear me.  Then when I heard your voices, I became frightened, afraid that whoever came to the ship and kill the Krill came back to finish me off, or worse that more Krill came onto the ship and was going to come after me.”

Ed then said, feeling sorry for the girl, “Thank you, Michelle.  That has helped us plenty.”

They moved out and as soon as they were in the hall, Kelly stated, sadly, “That poor girl.  I couldn’t even imagine what she had to endure on that ship.”  

“I can."  Ed said.  "I was only on a Krill ship for a couple of hours as a prisoner and that was hell.  But she did it for six months.  Jesus, I don’t even know how she is alive.”

“Hopefully, Claire can fix her up."  Kelly breathed.

"Physically, she can.  But mentally, that is going to take years to repair.  She is doing so well considering everything she went through."  Ed pointed out. 

——————————————————————————————————————————–

That evening, Ed walked into the mess hall to get himself a drink.  He became a regular again after the whole thing with Janal went down.  As he walked over to the bar, he noticed Michelle sitting there.  He walked over to her and asked, "Is this seat taken?”

Michelle looked over at him and his eyes widen.  She looked different now, no more bruises or blood on her and she was cleaned up.  She was beautiful.  She smiled at him.  “No, not at all.  Especially not for the man who saved me.”

He gave her a smile and tugged at his jacket.  He sat next to her and said to the bartender, “Bourbon, please."  In a moment, there was glass in front of him as it was filled up.  Ed breathed, "Thank you."  He took a drink and then looked at Michelle.  "Surprised to see you here.  Thought you would enjoy your first night in a comfy bed, catching up on much needed sleep.”

“Yeah, as tired as I am."  She said, as she played with her glass.  "Sitting in a room with just four walls and quiet with no one there, kinda would bring back bad memories.  I thought I could use a drink so I didn’t drive myself into madness.”

Ed was a little concerned by this.  She looked over at him and gave him a playful smile.  He realized that she had a dark sense of humor, he smiled at her.  “Oh, you are funny.  I like that.  Considering a woman who has been through what you have been through, it’s nice to see.”

She shrugged as she picked up her glass.  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, isn’t that what they say?”

He looked at her as she finished off her drink.  “I guess they do."  Then he looked at his glass and asked, "But are you okay though?”

She looked at him and nodded with a smile.  “I am more then okay.  I am alive and I am grateful for that and it is thanks to you, Captain.”

The bartender came over and poured her another glass.  Ed looked over and held up his glass to her.  “Here is to being alive.”

“I think I can drink to that."  She picked up her glass and tapped his with it.  They both took another drink. 

They talked the next few hours away and then Ed walked her back to her quarters.  They got to her door and she looked at him.  "So, this is me.”

“You going to be okay?"  He asked.

"Hate the thought of being in this room, feeling like a prisoner again, but I think I can manage."  She smiled at him.

He smiled back.  He really thought she was beautiful, especially when she smiled.  “Well, you are anything but a prisoner.”  Then Ed noticed she wasn’t affected by the light.  "So, I see Claire fixed your eyes up.  So, I take it that you can also see just fine.”

"You mean, the blurriness."  Ed nodded.  "Yeah, I can see clearly now.  It is nice to have my vision back.  I mean, I can see how handsome my rescuer is."  Ed slightly blushed at this and smiled as he adverted his eyes to the ground.  Then Michelle moved in and kissed his cheek.  He was shocked by the gestured as she moved away.  He looked at her and she smiled shyly.  "Goodnight, Ed.”

He then smiled, warmly.  “Goodnight, Michelle.”

She moved into the quarters as Ed stood there, still smiling.  He thought she was beautiful and she seemed to be into him.  But he knew his luck has been a bit unlucky after everything, he refused to read too much into the kiss.  So, he walked away.  With only his thoughts.

[fanfic-scribbles]

11. Blankets

A/N: Longer one again, but it turned out fairly nicely. Please forgive my writing sins; I didn’t have as much time to edit this as I would have liked. Enjoy!

Words: 1657 (eep)

Warnings: Fluff, cuddling, Gabriel using candy-related terms of endearment is my ultimate weakness but I restrained myself you’re welcome

“You sure you’re bundled up enough there, Buttercup?”

Powerpuff, princess, or plain infantilizing nickname, you just aren’t in the mood for Dean giving you crap. It takes about a year for you to get your arm to move, and then another century to pull it out of your blanket hovel. Dean waits patiently through all this and laughs when you flip him off. The air, though, still feels cold enough to be pinpricks on your skin, so you pull the exposed limb back in as fast as you can and you groan at the ache that causes. This sucks.

“How’re you feeling kid?” Dean asks and there’s enough sincerity in his question that you decide to forgo lambasting him for the stupid question.

“Like I’ve got ten flus at once,” you grump. Your head pulses with steady ache, you’re still sort of cold no matter that you have enough blankets on to look three times as big as you normally do, and your muscles feel like you’ve worked out for 40 hours straight. Manticore poison detox: it’s fucking fantastic.

“The soup’s been going low and slow but it’ll be ready soon,” Dean says and stands. “You want some crackers?”

You have to carefully consider this because the last time you had anything solid… “Yes,” you decide. “And mostly broth?”

“So you can crush the crackers and sprinkle them in?” Dean says, looking faintly amused.

“Is this why we’re best friends?”

“Well it certainly isn’t because you jump between me and fucking manticore barbs.”

“You have a funny way of saying ‘thanks’.”

Dean ruffles your head and makes the beanie move to an uncomfortable position. You whimper but he grins and leaves and you mutter semi-terrible things about him under your breath as you struggle to fix it. Once it’s finally set back in place, more or less, you let out a sigh of relief just before the rustle of wings sounds right next to you.

“Well now, since when did a fuzzy rock move in here?” Gabriel asks and comes around the couch to look at you. His smile lessens somewhat and you might be having a fever dream because you think there’s unmasked concern when he says, “You okay, gumdrop?”

“I’m fine. Recovering,” you say.

“Recovering from the bubonic plague?”

“Manticore poisoning.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “You three take a hunter’s holiday to Greece or something?”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely,” you grumble. Greece sounds warm to you. It probably isn’t right now, but a Mediterranean vacation still sounds like a nice thing. “Fucking Georgia, of all places. The state, not the country.” That’s probably not warm even a little bit.

“Huh,” Gabriel says, brilliantly. He leans in. “Why didn’t Cas heal you?”

“The shock of removing all the poison at once could be too much for her system to bear,” Cas says and you jump because you didn’t know he was there. He drapes a blanket around you though and you shut your eyes at the warmth of his borrowed body. He pulls away and you bite back a sigh. “I did as much as I could but this should still be handled in stage–”

“Hey, do that again,” Gabriel says. The amusement in his voice makes you crack open an eye. That face. That grinning, devious face. You do not like that face.

“What?” Cas asks and if you could make the little throat-slitting motion you would. On Gabriel's throat. With an angel blade.

“Hug her,” Gabe said and Cas stiffly gave you a hug which you tried to respond to just as stiffly but it felt really, really good. “You know, that might be better than the blankets.”

“Hugging?” Cas asked

“Oh yeah, can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Dean says as he brings a tray with your soup and this– this is a nightmare, right? You really, really want it to be a bad dream, Dean and Gabe smiling at you like that. You’re going to wake up now. Aaaaany second. “Body heat, Cas,” Dean says and sets your dinner down. “Your body heat is going to be warmer than any blanket.”

“Ah,” Cas says and you decide to avoid this conversation by eating Dean’s delicious smelling soup. You need a reminder for why you put up with him, because this– this conversation definitely isn’t it. Thankfully they move on to other topics while you eat, and you take the couple of pills Dean put on your tray. You’re so tired you decide you’re going to skip the movie you were planning to watch and head straight for blissful unconsciousness.

“Perhaps you and Sam should share your body heat,” Cas says and helps you as you fumble to wrap at least one blanket around you.

“Actually, Gabe’s taking Sam to meet with Kevin about some boring tablet shit.” Dean waves his hand. “Hey…maybe you could do it? I would, but I have a date.”

A date? He’s just going to go drinking and flirting. Probably just with the bartender, for more drinks. You have half a mind to say ‘bullshit’ but then Cas would want to know why he’s lying and you can’t explain that without having maybe the worst confession outside of an actual confessional. So you can’t call Dean out on it and he knows it, the bastard.

“It’s easy, Cas.” Dean’s eyes are shining as they look to you. “You just need to tuck our little killer into bed. Lay there for a little bit; make it nice and toasty.”

Laser eyes. You need laser eyes. Powered by holy fire. Your dreams tonight will be filled with sweet, sweet murder at the very least. But you try to soften up when Cas looks at you, and you say, “I’ll be fine, Cas.”

“Yes, you will,” he says resolutely and you sag with relief. Too soon. “I will watch over you while Dean and Sam are busy.”

Gabriel’s grin splits his face and he and Dean trade a surreptitious fist bump behind Cas. You never thought you would long for the days when they didn’t get along. “Y-you don’t have to,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“No, he’s not, and if he is then I can handle it while Sam and Kevin act like nerds.” Gabriel waggles his eyebrows. “Unless you’d rather I play nurse-maid…”

You scowl at him and definitively state, “No.”

“Then it’s settled,” Cas says. “Have a pleasant evening, Dean, Gabriel.”

Those two waste no time in getting out of your way. Dean takes the tray back to the kitchen and Gabriel disappears as Gabriel does. Your head is filled with rude things to say about them but your body is drooping. Now that you’re nice and full, and slightly less freezing, you feel the pull of sleep like never before.

“Do you want your blankets wrapped around you?” Cas asks and grabs one.

“No, um…actually, Cas, I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.” You smile apologetically at him, but he just nods.

“Excellent decision. You should rest,” Cas says.

And picks you up.

You jerk, suddenly very awake and aware of the bridal hold Cas has you in. “Uh, Cas? You don’t have to do this,” you say and hold his neck because you don’t know what to do. Is this for real?

“You are not heavy,” he says patiently, like that must be your only argument to this. But you don’t get a chance to say anything else because suddenly you’re at your room and Cas is setting you down in bed. “I will be right back,” he promises and disappears. And reappears with your pile of blankets.

“Um, I don’t think I’ll need as many of those. They get too heavy,” you say and shimmy under your covers. You wince at how cold they are but persist.

“I see. I’ll pick out a few,” he says and rifles through until he’s sorted out some. There’s a fuzzy one he lays on first, then an itchier but undeniably warm one you got at a flea market ages ago, and then…

“This one I find to be very warm and…soothing,” Cas says and tops you off with his blanket, the one you laid on him those nights ago. You have no idea where he found it– you’ve tried looking for it since…for washing, of course– but here it is. And he likes it enough to comment on it. Did he like it before you laid it on him? Did he find it soothing after, because someone (please please let him not know who) cared enough to cover him? Was–

“Uh, Cas?” you say with a slight tinge of alarm as you come out of your head to see him cast his shirt down with the outerwear already on the floor. You can see his bare chest even in the dim light and you are not ogling (you are not going to ogle God damn it) but you can’t help but wonder why.

“Body heat,” he says and you hope that his words are just coincidentally matched to your inner question because you might actually beg a Reaper to take you away if he heard any of that.

All of that, however, fades quite quickly when he slides under the sheets next to you and you moan because, oh, ‘body heat’ is way more than a pick-up than Gabe and Dean probably hoped for. “It feels good?” Cas asks, pleased in tone.

“So warm. You’re the best,” you mumble and snuggle closer because, right now, Cas could be a wendigo for all you give a flying fuck. He’s warm and soft and it’s quiet and dark and none of this seems weird, for all it should be. Cas is gentle, not awkward, and it slowly dawns on you that this might be the moment. The one you’ve been waiting for.

“Cas…you are so…” is all you get out before sleep takes you.

[little-red-2404]

The Technicalities of Tomorrow Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Lost in Space and in Mind

           When we reached our destination in the middle of deep space, Rip choose who he wanted to board the stranded time ship with him; Me, Stein, Jax, and Mick. After listing those who he needed, Mick grunted.

           “Uh-uh,” He shook his head, “She ain’t coming.”

           I was more than surprised when he pointed at me. Getting defensive and ignoring the pinch in my chest, I asked, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

           “It means you ain’t coming.” He growled, rolling his eyes.

           “Actually, Mr. Rory, her so called expertise in technology may be useful in getting the information we need for Gideon’s hard drive.”

           “Um, we have a problem.” I told him. “I can’t control future technology…”

           “So, you ain’t coming after all.” Mick smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You ain’t needed, girlie.”

           “Not needed, or not wanted?” I hissed.

           He shrugged his shoulders. “Both.”

           “What’s gotten into you two lately?” Kendra asked, looking more amused than she should.

           “Lovers’ quarrel.” Jax laughed.

           “We’re not lovers.” Mick growled, looking away. I didn’t notice the shade of pink on his cheeks at the time.

           I glared at Jax, “I’ll shock you so hard, you won’t feel your toes and fingers for days.”

           He chuckled once more and teasingly said, “Ouch.” However, he did take a step away from me. Smart of him.

           “Your both coming and that’s final.” Rip sighed before leaving the room.

           Once the four of us were in the jumpship with him, getting ready to aboard the abandoned starship, I leaned over to Rip. “Okay, I understand why you wanted me to come, and Jax is getting better with future technology, but why not leave Mick there? He’s the one with the attitude!”

           “He has a terrible attitude, yes.” Rip agreed as he pressed buttons of all sorts of colors and shapes. “However, he also has a tendency to get bored, so to protect my ship- and possibly the crew- I needed to give him something productive to do.” I nodded understandingly before he added, “Besides, his little feud with Mr. Snart has been a bit of a problem, so I planned on splitting them up for a while to cool down…” Then he turned to look at me with a questioning expression. “Though I did not expect that I might need to split you two up as well?”

           I shook my head. “I can work with him… I don’t like it right now, but I can be professional about it… Won’t speak for him, though.”

           “Hm… I was under the impression that you got along with Mr. Rory.”

           I sighed, rolling my eyes. “It’s complicated.”

           “Must I be worried? Get involved?”

           “No, it’s nothing like that.” I assured him. “Don’t worry, I won’t shock him…” Then I gave him a playful smile and said, “Yet.”

           He chuckled and turned back to the command board before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself, Ms. Raymond.”

           “Yes, sir.” I giggled before returning to my seat.

           “I have an odd sensation,” Stein informed us. “It’s like I’m ten years old all over again.” I watched the old man’s eyes take in the jumpship’s control center with wonder and I couldn’t help but smile.

           “Did a lot of space travel in your day, old man?” Mick asked.

           “Only in my dreams.” Stein replied. I tried to picture little Martin Stein and failed. “I wanted to travel through space, surviving only with my wits and laser guns.”

           Ah, there it is. I pictured little, blonde Martin running around his room with laser guns and telling the aliens they had no hope, all while using technical terms that I didn’t even understand during college.

           “What stopped you?” Rip asked.

           “Unfortunately, NASA has rather strict guidelines regarding nearsightedness.”

           I threw a hand over my mouth to stop me from laughing when Jax added, “And smoking weed.”

           After getting a little information on the Acheron ship, Rip turned to Stein. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay behind on the ship. Just in case something happens.”

           “You’re telling me that if something goes wrong, egghead is in charge?” Mick asked.

           I was about to add a snide comment when Stein spoke up, “Break out the emergency gear. Space Ranger Stein has a job to do.”

           As we ventured into the abandoned time-ship, we turned our flashlights on to get a better view. A few feet away from where we entered the ship, there were marks on the wall that suggested some sort of struggle happened on the ship.

           “To quote every Star Wars movie ever made, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”” Jax sighed, looking around us in caution.

           We didn’t get attacked until we reached the command room of the ship where some guys jumped out from around the corner. Luckily, I had my gloves on and I grabbed onto the arm of the first man who pounced at me and sent a jolt through him that knocked him on his knees. When a pair of arms grabbed me from behind and trapped my arms at my sides, I reeled back and smacked my head against his nose, hearing it crunch on impact. After a good few punches at a couple of guys, I had another one pin my arms to my sides and another managed to rip the gloves from my hands.

           “Don’t touch those!” I yelled, thrashing frantically.

           “Tell your man over here to quit pounding my friend in the face.” The guy demanded. That’s when I noticed Rip and Jax had also been restrained; however, Mick was a few feet away, taking his frustration out on some guy’s face.

           “Mick, quit it, please!” I begged, hating the panic in my voice, but feeling uncomfortable at the fact that my gloves were in the wrong hands.

           “I ain’t done yet.” Mick grunted, throwing another punch at the guy’s face.

           When he didn’t stop, I felt one of the ambushers yank at my hair, causing me to yelp out in pain. Then I went quiet as a blade was held to my throat. At the sound of my cry, Mick whirled around to see all three of his teammates were goners. He continued to glare at the man who was holding the knife to my neck.

           The supposedly leader of the pack, the one holding the knife to my throat, grinned wickedly. “Valiant effort, if I may say so myself.”

           “Who the hell are these guys?” Jax hissed.

           “These guys, Mr. Jackson, are time pirates.” Rip informed us, glaring daggers at the gray-haired leader who continued to smile in victory. “They like to hunt down people in space.”

           “Oh, that’s nice,” I said with sarcasm. “You know, considering our Captain here is the most wanted person that the Time Masters wouldn’t mind killing right now… Along with us…”

           “Precisely.” The gray-haired guy chuckled. “Name is Mr. Valor.” He looked me up and down in a way that made me so uncomfortable, I had to look away in order to keep from screaming. “And now that I’ve caught you, I’m going to turn you guys in, for that pretty little prize they’re offering for your guy’s heads.”

           After Rip gloated about what an “amazing crew” we had, ready to rescue us at any minute, Valor messaged the WaveRider. I couldn’t hear what the team was saying on the other side very well, but Rip was quick to speak up.

           “Captain Palmer, I’ve informed Mr. Valor of the fiery retribution you’ll rain down upon him if we are not released immediately.”

           Mr. Valor didn’t seem to like that comment very much. He turned around and socked Rip in the gut before slamming his face into the console, next to the camera, probably in view for our team to see. “I’m going to make this really simple.” Valor explained. “You surrender your ship and I’ll drop you off unharmed at a place and time of your choosing. You got 10 seconds to decide.”

           “If you want the WaveRider to yourself, there’s no way you’ll fire upon us.”

           Valor pulled out his gun and held it against Rip’s head. “Perhaps not, but right now, my sight is set on your Captain’s head. Ten…. Nine… Eight…” He began to count down and I continued to panic. I wanted so badly to knock Valor out, but without my gloves and with a guard’s space gun to my back, I was helpless.

           But then, the screen Valor was using began to flicker. It didn’t calm my nerves but it did stir his. “What’s going on?” He grumbled as the lights started to flicker. I didn’t notice it until then, but there was a new feeling inside my veins. It felt just like electricity swimming through me, except stronger.

           Is this what future tech feels like?

           “It’s the freak!” One of the guard’s shouted.

           I tried my best to focus on the new feeling and harness it. I wanted so badly to hold it in my hand, feel it’s strength, and then chuck it at the guards and knock them out. However, there was a shuffle and I felt something clock me upside the head. Everything went black.

           The next thing I heard was a familiar voice asking, “Is she okay?”

           I felt like I was floating in mid-air, hanging by something warm and strong. It took me a while to regain consciousness, but when my eyes opened, I noticed Mick towering above me. When I looked down, I noticed I wasn’t touching the ground, and that’s when I noticed he was holding me.

           “You rescued me?” I mumbled, lifting my head up.

           “’Bout time you woke up.” He growled, setting me down not so gracefully. His face was covered in bruises and the bridge of his nose was red with blood.

           “Are you alright?” Sara asked, when I noticed that her, Leonard, Kendra, and Ray were standing on the opposite end of the hallway.

           I walked over to stand near them as I nodded carefully. “Yeah, I think so.” I turned to Mick before asking, “What happened back there?”

           However, he didn’t respond, he just continued to look at me with a blank expression. His eyes were screaming, though, I could see it in the small glint of color I could see from the dim hallway. It was a confusing message though.

           “Mick?” Leonard spoke up when he remained quiet. “You okay, Mick?”

           Mick took his eyes off of me to look up at Leonard, and that little message that was in his eyes disappeared. He turned his head to shout over his shoulder, “Boys… Ships all yours.” On cue, a bunch of the guards that were on the Archeon came to stand around him, aiming their guns at us.

           “What the hell?” Ray looked at me for answers, but I had none. Then he glared at Mick, “You son of a bitch.”

           “What are you doing, Mick?” Leonard questioned with his voice of authority.

           “I’m getting us home. Are you in?”

           My heart lurched in my chest and then started pounding rapidly when Leonard took a few steps forward. The thought of both of them leaving hurt, but knowing they were going against the Legends- going against me- in order to do it was even worse. Leonard pulled out his gun and the sound of it whirring to life echoed through the silent, tense atmosphere.

           “Yeah…” Leonard turned to look at Sara, Ray, Kendra, and I. “Time to choose a side, I guess…” There was a short pause before Leonard smirked. “Chosen.” Then he lifted his gun and he aimed it at one of Mick’s men, knocking him on his ass with a blast of ice.

           “Bastard!” Mick cried. He aimed his gun at Leonard who grabbed my arm and moved me out of the way. I felt the heat brush past my already burnt shoulder and I hissed.

           “Mick, what are you doing?” I cried out, hiding around the corner with Leonard, trying to get my gloves to cooperate but for some reason, my power wasn’t generating through them.

           He growled, “I’m going back home!” before shooting towards us again.

           “This way!” Sara shoved me down the hall while the boys tried distracting the army of men coming towards us.

           “What do we do?” I asked her as we quickly jogged away.

           “We’re going to have to stop him.”

           “He’s our friend.” I reminded her, coming to a stop.

           She turned to look at me incredulously. “Yeah, what a great friend he is—aiming his heat gun at us and trying to fry us to bits!”

           I stepped forward, getting into her face. I’m not sure where this courage came from, knowing full well Sara could snap my neck in two if she wanted to, or where the need to defend Mick starred at, but I couldn’t hold back the need to yell. “He saved my life!”

           “Yeah, saved it just so he could end it himself.” She stated before turning on her heel and continuing to walk down the hall. “Are you going to help me or not?”

                       ************************************

           “Step away from it, Mick.” Sara called out, causing Mick to freeze in his attempt at touching the orb in the center of the WaveRider’s controls.

           He rolled his eyes as he turned to face here. “Look here, Blondie. Walk away and I won’t kill you.” The threat caused a cold chill to run along my arms as I hid around the corner on his other side, potentially blocking him in.

           “You know I can’t do that.”

           “I like you, Sara.” He told her with a nod of his head. “You got a lot of guts.” I watched him shift his weight to his other leg, leaning towards his gun, so I formed an electrical orb in the palm of my hand, hoping it’d be strong enough, even without my gloves. “Which is why I’m going to kill you a little bit!”

           He raised his gun just as quickly as I jumped out of my hiding spot and tossed the orb with all my might as the gun. Mick jumped in surprise, dropping the gun to the floor and watching it spasm under the effects of the electricity.

           “My gun!” He shouted.

           Sara lunged forward then aiming punches and kicks at the big man which he surprisingly blocked and dodged. I stepped back, letting the expert do her job until he threw her against the wall. Then without thinking, I ran forward and jumped on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

           “Get off me!” He growled once more, throwing his weight to and fro in order to knock me off, but my grip was tight.

           “Mick, stop!” I begged. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

           With a loud grunt, the big guy reached back, taking a chunk of my shirt in his large hand and pulled. The strength he gave to the pull took me by surprise and I went flying over his shoulder, landing on the ground, my bruised and burnt shoulder taking most of the impact. I couldn’t stop the tortured scream that escaped my lips as I clutched my shoulder with my good hand, feeling tears spring up against my eyes from the stinging in my arm.

           I thought I heard him say my name before a blast of ice whizzed over my head, knocking Mick to the ground. Suddenly, Leonard was at my side, lifting me up to sit up and observing my arm, tucking his gun back into his belt.

           “Are you alright?” He questioned, trying to get a look at my shoulder without peeling the bandage all the way off.

           “Do I look alright to you?” I snapped, although I didn’t mean to. My arm stung, my head throbbed, and my chest felt very heavy.

           *********************************************************

           After locking Mick away and getting rid of the rest of our unwanted guest, the rest of us stood around the center table in Rip’s office, except me. I sat in the chair near them, rubbing my sore shoulder which I got lectured about over and over again to get checked out. However, I kept thinking about how the men from the other ship knocked me out because I had a little more access to future technology, and I didn’t trust it. I didn’t want to accidentally end up with full access to future technology. I didn’t want all of this on my plate.

           Ray was the first to uncross his arms and speak up. “Okay, I’ll say it. Why don’t we drop him back off in 2016?”

           “Because my sister lives in 2016.” Leonard responded. “And I’m sure he’d love to harm her to get to me right now. And your sister.” Leonard looked to Sara and then to Stein, “And your wife.”

           “So, what exactly are we talking about here?” Jax asked. “Leaving him in the brig till we finish off Savage?”

           “No, no, no, no, no.” Rip shook his head. “The brig is unsuitable for long-term incarceration.”

           “Well, letting him roam the ship of free will is out of the question.” Sara pointed out.

           I continued to rub my shoulder until Leonard said, “I’ll handle it.”

           The way he spat out the words and looked down at his feet left my chest feeling heavier and heavier by the second. I let out a dry laugh.

           “What?” Leonard asked.

           “By “handle it”, you mean full on murder?” I snapped, tilting my head at him challenging, glaring at him in hopes that he wasn’t serious.

           However, he glared down at me, baring his teeth as he said, “I said I’ll handle it.” And his ice-cold eyes stared me down before I jumped out of my seat and stomped out of the room.

                       ****************************************

           In my room, I focused on peeling the bandage off my shoulder, attempting to switch out to a cleaner bandage since this one was beginning to smell like dry blood. I hissed just as the door open and Ray walked in.

           He said nothing, but stepped forward and took the bandage roll out of my hand before starting to wrap it carefully around my shoulder. I sighed.

           “Thanks.”

           “Don’t mention it. That’s what teammates are for.”

           I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “So much for being a team…”

           Ray frowned then, the small lines forming on his forehead and the edge of his eyes. He didn’t speak until he was done replacing my bandage. “I doubt Leonard is actually going to do it… I mean, he wouldn’t… Would he…?”

           I didn’t say anything but I got up out of my seat to leave the room. No matter where I went, the atmosphere was too thick and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I just so happened to bump into Leonard who was headed the opposite way. I couldn’t even make eye contact with him.

           “It’s done.” He informed me, refusing to look at me as my eyes snapped up to him.

           I shook my head, letting the tears fall this time. I had been holding them all day. “Ha…” I took a deep breath. “So, you really did it then, didn’t you? You killed your own best friend.” I gave him a rueful smile, letting my eyes bore into his forehead as he continued to stare down at my boots. “You must feel proud, being a criminal and all.”

           He glared up at my finally, the muscle in his jaw clenched. “Why do you care so much what happens to him? He tried to kill you!”

           “He saved me!” I shouted back. “Perhaps you can’t stand the fact that he saved me but wanted YOU dead. This is ALL because of YOU. And then you killed him! Your own best friend!”

           “Mick doesn’t have friends.” Snart snarled. “So don’t feel so special, I’m sure he only thought you were a pretty face.”

           The tears were flowing freely now and I didn’t even care to try and stop them, I was too angry. “You know nothing, do you?” When he didn’t respond and continued to glare at me, I shook my head, “I bet he was willing to die for you. You’re just too blind to see it.”

           And then I left him standing in the hallway and I went to find solitude in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, holding a beer in one of my hands.

[rainsonata]

Nya

Fandom/Shipping(s): Elsword; MMDE Rating: K Word Count: 2,157

Summary: All Adds are cats, but not all cats are Adds.  Collab writing with @dezimaton!  Thank you for writing cute Adds with me!

"Maaaaaasterminddddddddddd~"

A cheerful voice sings from the hallway.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are-"

A man clad in pure white sits up from the dim computer screen and parts scattered over the desk before dragging a gloved hand down his face.  Masi groans.  Even without seeing the jerk, the scientist already knows who it is.  There's only one person in the house that would try to beckon him in such an ominous manner.

The intruder's violet gloved hands curl themselves around the door frame to the scientist's dimly lit room and Esper's face peers through the open slit not long after, eyes narrowed deviously and mouth turned up in a grin.  Masi turns his head to glare literal daggers at him.

"I'm busy, Go away Esper."

"Yikes, and the cat hisses," he giggles when Masi snaps at him.  

"I'm not a cat," Masi growls, rubbing his temples in the dark room with tired eyes.  He covers his desk with his arms despite Esper unable to see from where he was.  

"I told you not to come into my room unless you ask," Masi whines.  Today is not a day he wants to put up with nonsense from his alternates, especially Esper.

"Aww, why not?" Esper pouts.

"You've been up here all week, only coming down for coffee and energy bars. And you complain about MY bad diet."

"It's about time you come down and take care of yourself!" Esper pushes the door open just a bit more, almost enough for him to slip through.

A violet beam of light hits the wall right next to the time traveler's head, missing by mere centimeters. The charred spot on the wall hisses with a curl of smoke.

Masi's expression is stone cold. "Get out. I won't miss next time."

Esper cooes, "Oh, resorting to violence now are w-?"

The time traveler doesn't get to finish. He's thrown backwards against the wall by a solid shot to the gut.

The lock to the door clicks shut and Esper is left scratching his head as he sits up on the hall floor.

"Huh."

Is it something he said?  Esper cocks his head to the side with a lopsided grin.  A caffeinated Masi hiding in his room is a formidable opponent, but Esper hasn’t forgotten all the Masterminds he's met and this one is not so different from the others.  

He opens a portal from a hidden part of Masi's room, in the corner where his outlets are, where the scientist can't reach him.  As he pulls his arm through, something pushes him back. His hands are deflected back into the portal by a powerful force field. Weird, this is the first time he’s been deflected without being physically shoved back by Mastermind’s own noodly hands.

The time traveler decides to try again, this time from a blind spot next to the scientist’s desk. Peeking his head through the freshly opened portal, Esper’s ahoge surfaces from the swirling vortex of energy. When enough of his head is poking through to see, he sees the culprit for his failures. Apocalypse swoops in and pressures him back into the portal, sitting on him with unnatural weight for a cube made of light.  Esper pulls out as fast as he opened the portal and shakes his head.  Masi really did think of everything.  The cat cube leers at Esper and hisses at the time traveler through the open portal, charging up its  lasers as he is forced to close that portal too.    

Well, that didn't end well.    

Esper will admit, Masi wins this round. The time traveler crawls to the kitchen and reaches for the fridge for leftover dinner from last night while he retreats to plan his next course of action.  Balancing himself on the kitchen counter with the platter of food on the other, he opens a portal and pulls his head inside with a light giggle.  Masi can ignore him all he wants, but Esper knows his one weakness.  

Another portal forms adjacent to the first one, this time the time traveler opening it up in the most hidden spot in Masi’s room: under the bed where he himself cannot fit. The portal isn’t meant for him though. With a devious smile, he connects the two portals together and the kitchen rumbles from the cacophony of meows.  If he can't talk to Masi himself, then he’ll just have to send a couple messengers.  The first stray cat wanders astray and nuzzles his crossed legs on the counter..  As much as he wants to keep the kitty, it’s not what Esper planned for. He shooes it through the other portal to where Masi is and waits.

A second cat pokes through the first portal before a third and fourth all peek through the opening. Esper’s grin widens.

Masi huffs as he puts the final touches on his invention, sitting on the desk before him. Using delicate fingers, he turns the final screw into its spot.

It's been a long couple of days toiling over the device, but it is worth it. The mechanism works better than he even dreamed and he triumphantly tucks it away in a colorful box that's been sitting to the side.

The scientist exhales a sigh of relief and relaxes back into his chair.

He's about to pass the fuck out when he feels something brush against his foot. Masi doesn't bother checking, only makes a beckoning hand motion to the charging station.

"Enough roaming, Apo. You've done well to keep Esper away, so take a good long rest."

Apo chirps cheerfully behind him and nuzzles him before floating over to the aforementioned charging station, spinning a little over the spot before settling down, as though stamping out its bed before sleeping.

A thought strikes the tired scientist. If Apo is behind him, what's at his legs?

The tickly brushing feeling comes again, looping between his crossed legs, slipping by like fluid.

Masi searches his dark room with tired eyes.  He almost overlooks the trashed room when he sees a pair of glowing eyes.  Blinking at the sight, there are more than just a single set, all crowding around him when he hears… meows?  Huh?

He turns on the lights and blinds himself with the sudden light, but the bedroom lamp reveals their forms.  Cats scatter across his room, some of them climbing on his desk and others lying on his equipment.  One crawls on top of Apo and another nips at his ankle for attention with its cries.  What the...

Masi checks his room again to see a small portal finely concealed under his bed, small enough for a cat to fit through.  Rushing over to the portal, he didn't make it in time when he tries to fit his hand through and is forced to pull it out when it threatened to eat his hand.  Was this his doing?

Feeling the tickling sensation at his legs again, he kneels down to see a calico playing with his socks and picks it up to have it still bat its paws at him.  Looking back at the chaotic scene of cats playing and lying around him, Masi is too tired to bother scolding at them for hiding in places like the closet or his drawer.  The bed is occupied with a tortoise shell and a brown tabby curled up at his pillow, but he could care less because his sleep deprivation is getting to him.  The calico in his hands leaps out and joins him when he passes out the moment his head hits the pillows.

The sleep is the best he's had in a long time, the bedroom filled with the soft snores of the scientist and the literal army of cats there with him.

When the sun rises, a stray beam of sunlight lights Masi's face. He is so warm and snug, he almost doesn't want to move. Although today is the day he's been waiting for, so he can't just sleep all day as his body wishes.

The scientist stretches out, disturbing a couple cats from their spots as he rouses. They really are everywhere. No matter how he moves, there's always a cat in the way.

When the scientist finally tries to move off the bed, he realizes there's a weight at his side, far heavier than a single cat could be.

Masi blinks his sleep laden eyes into focus.

Oh.

O h.

Two lanky arms are loosely wrapped around his midriff, belonging to none other than the wayward time traveler. Still asleep, Esper's chest rises and falls to a peaceful rhythm.

His bangs tousled over his relaxed face, the time traveler looks calm and unlike anything when he is awake. Masi thinks he's cute and almost forgets that this is the asshole who released literally 50 cats into his room because he couldn't enter.

Masi feels like he should be shocked, but they've been living together enough that Esper's time and space travel BS is the norm. Without Apo to deflect him, the locked room might as well be an open door.

Masi settles back in the nest of cats on his bed and reaches forward a hand to adjust Esper's bangs. They’re soft and light, but the bangs slip back over his face almost immediately after, as though they belong over his face.

He startles back when Esper moves and his eyes flutter open.  

"Morning, Masi."  Esper rolls his head to plant his face into a pillow and muffles, "Did you like my presents?"

Presents… Mastermind rises from the bed when he remembers.  The box sitting at his desk is still there, luckily not knocked over by a cat while he was sleeping.  He grabs the box and makes it back to the bed to a confused Esper, still rubbing his eyes from last night’s sleep.  

“Prepared a present for you too,” Mastermind breathes.  It’s hard not to be distracted by the stray hair sticking out on Esper’s hair like a porcupine, so he looks down at the box to distract himself.  “I finished it last night.”  

Esper stares, but takes the gift to pull the tissue paper out like handkerchiefs.  At the bottom of the box is a set of headphones with pointy cat ears on the side with purple outlines that glow when hooked up.  It is nothing like what Mastermind typically works on. Unlike the combat upgrades and near infinite list of sleek devices, this one is very cute. When he tries them on, they perk up to follow his emotions and Esper looks down in an attempt to hide the blush creeping across his face.  It’s hard to stop the heat from traveling up to his neck and cheeks, his ears too.  

When Esper finally gathers the courage to look up at Masi, he notes the flush on the scientist’s face matching his own. Masi has a gloved hand covering his mouth, just barely containing himself.

“Cute…” The scientist mumbles absently.

The headphone ears stand up straight and Esper’s blush deepens. “Th- Thank you. They’re… very… cute.”

The three tails flicking back and forth behind Esper don’t escape Masi’s notice. It seems to be a subconscious action seeing as Esper doesn’t seem to be controlling them, face flushed and very much admiring the cute cat earphones. The bright smile on Esper’s face as he fingers the soft felt-like material lining the ears makes all his sleepless nights worth it.

Mastermind is shaken out of his thoughts when the time traveler turns his attention to him, eyes narrowing and the ears flattening down a bit to suit his now devious expression.

Esper drawls, “Your gift is purrfect~ As for mines, which one is your favorite?”

Masi takes a moment to glance around at all the cats in the room, some of them curled up on the bed and others dancing around his tables and equipment.

Esper watches as the scientist's gaze dances from one cat to another, weighing each of their merits and cuteness factor. After looking at all cats in view, Masi turns back to the time traveler curled up against his waist.

Masi's lips curl up in a smirk. "You, of course."

Esper's eyes open in surprise and the mechanical ears on his head perk up.

The scientist reaches a hand up to comb through the time traveler's messy hair and smiles when the cat ears twitch happily with his strokes. Esper blushes and closes his eyes when he rests his head on Masi's chest as his alternate continues to pat him, almost purring against the scientist's chest. A soft blush dusts Masi's face because the ears on Esper are just... too cute... like they were meant to be.

Esper nuzzles his face into the scientist’s chest, “You’re my favorite cat too, Masi!”

Mastermind gasps. “I’m no-”

The scientist cuts himself short. After clearing his throat, he blushes and responds with a soft. “Thanks, Esper.”

Esper beams.

[yumekuimono]

[WinterFrost] Everyone But Yourself Pt. 4/5

A/N: warning for non-permanent injury & a little bit of 30/40s homophobia

if you remember the deleted scene I posted a while back, the new and improved version is in here

They went to the Met for their second date, Loki casting a slight glamour over them both so that nobody would be inclined to recognize them. New Yorkers being what they were, it was unlikely they’d have been bothered in any case, but Bucky was glad for the privacy anyhow. Neither did he argue when Loki informed him that for the spell to extend best to Bucky they should remain in physical contact. He just linked their fingers together with a smile and let Loki lead.

They wandered through various galleries, taking their time. Loki snickered at the statues of Greek deities, and Bucky had to admit that he’d absorbed enough of Steve’s nattering about art theory that he couldn’t really complain about not understanding any of the paintings, even if he’d never be enthusiastic about them. They both quickly grew bored of the endless Western European Christian art. Then it became a quest to find the most interesting and obscure artwork from around the world. They ate lunch in the museum and only left when it closed. Outside, they wandered arm in arm down Fifth Avenue, their breaths steaming in the streetlights as it started to snow.

“It’ll be Christmas soon,” Bucky observed. “Do you have a winter holiday?”

Loki turned his face up to watch the snow fall. “Asgard celebrates Yuletide. The whole city is lit through the night, and it is a time of much feasting and merriment.”

“Sounds about right. D’you want anything?”

“Mmm, new daggers maybe, to replace those confiscated from me. Do you?”

Bucky huffed, his breath pluming. “Dunno. We never had the money for anything fancy when I was a kid. I just want you.”

Loki tugged them to a stop and leaned in to kiss him, nose cold against his cheek, but smiling. “You have me.”

They had dinner at a Chinese restaurant, warming themselves on thick hot and sour soup and cups of tea. Then they went home and chased the last traces of cold from each other’s skin, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs.

By the time the Avengers returned and the next mission came around, Bucky felt much better.

 -

Unfortunately, the next mission targeted  an illegal arms dealer supplying HYDRA, and word had already gone around that the Winter Soldier was with the Avengers. The team got bogged down fighting a swarm of heavily armed combat drones, and no one but Loki noticed James being separated out from the group until it was too late. The Soldier ran lost through corridors of shipping containers filled with contraband, trying to gain some breathing room to turn on the drones on his tail. And then, just as he reached a dead end, an explosion on his heels drove him hard into the door of a container, the metal clanging with the impact of his head. James crumpled to the ground.

Loki dove. He shifted in midair, coming down hard on the leading drone, his jaws crushing rotors and metal plating. Landing, he shook his head violently, further crumpling the machine, then tossing it aside with a sneeze when his teeth pierced the fuel cell. He growled at the swarm hovering before him as they assessed his threat designation, fangs bared and hackles bristling. Before their rudimentary AI could decide how to proceed, Loki sprang forward again, jumping up the side of a container to bring down another drone. This time when he landed he left an illusion in his wake, bullets and lasers passing through it as half a dozen targeting systems locked on.

Loki killed drone after drone, pulling out all his tricks. He cast illusions, made himself invisible, changed his shape, and teleported, slipping their targeting and taking them down from above, where they were vulnerable. He fought tooth and claw, snarling his defiance. By the time there were none left to threaten James, Loki’s sides were heaving and his mouth and paws bled from multiple lacerations. A bullet had grazed his shoulder. He stood guard over James, waiting for the next wave to come.

Instead what came was Falcon, and Loki held off until he was sure Wilson had spotted them before shifting. Concealing himself from sight, he hid against James, watching as Falcon came to a landing, scanning the area before he knelt at James’ side.

“Hey, Barnes, you with me?”

James took a long moment to respond. “…Sam?”

“Yeah. Looks like you went down pretty hard. Can you tell me what hurts?”

James blinked a few times, frowning, then licked his lips. “Head. Arm. The…the regular one.”

“Okay. Can you follow my finger?” Wilson held up his index finger, waving it slowly before James’ eyes. Then he felt gently at James’ right arm. “Alright, well it looks like you might be concussed, and your arm has a fracture. Hold on, and I’ll be back with a med kit.” He took off, relaying the information into his comm.

When he returned, Wilson efficiently strapped a splint onto James’ forearm. He confirmed the concussion, and dressed the wound on James’ head. Then he wrestled him into a carry, grumbling, “Jesus, you supersoldiers are heavy.” Loki dug his claws into the leather and Kevlar of James’ uniform, clinging on as they took off.

On the quinjet, Sam laid James down flat on a bench. Loki moved silently out of the way for JARVIS’ medical scans as Sam found a heavy orange shock blanket to tuck around him.

“Battle’s almost done, looks like. I can stay to monitor you or JARVIS can do it.”

“’M fine. You can go.”

As soon as Falcon had left, Loki jumped up on the bench, sitting at the uninjured side of James’ head. He was still invisible, but James turned towards him anyway, his eyes closed and face creased with pain.

“Loki kotyenok?” he whispered, his voice heavy and slurred.

Loki rubbed his jaw gently over James’ forehead above one eyebrow, then turned his face back in to nuzzle the spot. James sighed, and Loki laid down to take his weight off of his front paws, letting James lean his head on his back as he settled in to let his healing take care of his own injuries.

 -

Bucky’s head was throbbing, and the bench underneath him was spinning. His arm hurt, and when the team finally clambered onboard, the noise and the bright lights of the ‘jet powering up felt like they were stabbing into his brain. Loki was there though, Loki had defended him. Bucky had watched through swimming vision as a wolf he thought seemed larger than usual had torn through the swarm of HYDRA drones. He wasn’t sure if the part where the wolf kept disappearing and sometimes there were two of them was real or not, but it was Loki, so it probably was. He didn’t want to think about it too hard though, because his head hurt, and he was tired.

Sam got the team to quiet down and the lights around him to dim after a while, which was nice, but he wouldn’t let Bucky sleep. He kept waking him up. Sam explained it was necessary to monitor the concussion, but it still made him irritable. The first time, he opened his eyes expecting to see the black fur he could feel pressed against his face and instead found himself looking at the bulkhead of the ‘jet. He frowned, and made the mistake of asking, “Loki?” out loud.

“Your cat’s not here,” Sam reminded him. Fortunately he seemed to take it as confusion from the concussion.

When Sam had gone, Bucky glanced over to make sure no one was looking and then shifted onto his left side to further shield their view. Loki flicked into sight, blinked at him, and disappeared again. A raspy tongue licked his nose. Bucky smiled and leaned his forehead back against Loki’s side.

At the Tower he still wasn’t allowed to sleep. Sam said he had to be monitored for at least twenty-four hours, but at least he agreed to let JARVIS do it. In reality what this meant was that Loki took over as soon as they were back in their apartment, actually voluntarily interacting with JARVIS to do so. Even after he was off concussion watch, though, his sleep was restless, broken up and never feeling deep enough. He dreamed of being chased, running from HYDRA only for them to catch Loki instead, and Bucky would wake in a terror. When he was lucky, he would need to make sure that Loki was still in bed with him whole and unharmed, and Loki would let him cling without complaint. On multiple occasions though, he wasn’t so fortunate, and he nearly hit Loki, striking out on instinct while still half-asleep.

The second time Loki deflected a fist and folded him into an embrace, gently pinning his arms and murmuring “James” in his ear until he was awake, Bucky couldn’t hold back the tears. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. He wanted to say, “You’re not safe with me,” but instead he found himself curling his hands around Loki’s bare hips.

“I am never in danger from you,” Loki whispered, and Bucky cried harder because it wasn’t true. Even if Loki only meant he wasn’t in danger of Bucky hurting him, just by staying he was in danger from HYDRA, and the Avengers, and Thor finding out who he was and taking him back to Asgard.

He wanted so desperately to say, “Don’t leave me,” but the words stuck in his throat behind all the others he couldn’t say. Eventually, Bucky cried himself into exhaustion.

In the morning, he forced himself to bring it up again. Loki looked straight at him and said, “Yes.” Then he reached out and took Bucky’s hand. “But I take those risks knowledgably and willingly to be here.”

“Oh.”

They lounged around on the common floor for a few days, Bucky idly chatting with anyone who happened to be free, but everyone else was soon consumed with tracking down whoever had ordered the reclamation of the Winter Soldier. Ordinarily, Bucky wouldn’t have minded, but he was supposed to limit his mental exertion while he was recovering, which apparently included reading, and both computer screens and anything more than the lightest of workouts painfully exacerbated his symptoms. All of which severely diminished his options for how to pass the time. The boredom and forced physical idleness threatened to drive him crazy. Bucky suddenly realized what it must have felt like for Steve all those years ago. And while he wasn’t going to be getting into any fistfights he couldn’t win, he did sometimes feel like stabbing something.

Loki was the one who finally got him to rest as he was supposed to, persuading him into lying down on the couch with his head in Loki’s lap and his broken arm propped on his knees. Then Loki would card his long fingers through Bucky’s hair and tell stories. Some days he would simply read aloud, and Bucky would fall asleep to the soothing rhythm of his voice. Other days Loki would spin his own tales, long, fantastic things only parts of which were true, and Bucky would keep himself awake to hear every word. He loved listening to Loki’s stories, and especially to Loki telling them. After one day in which a well-meaning trickster had his lips sewn shut as punishment for his clever words, Bucky made sure to say so.

Loki had a face for when Bucky did things like this, praised things he used to be mistrusted for. Surprised, and quietly pleased, and a little vulnerable. As it turned out, making out with Loki was also allowed, and a very enjoyable use of his time.

 -

In all, James’ injuries kept him off duty for three weeks, and with not much else for him to do apart from occasional therapy appointments, Loki ended up keeping him near constant company. The time that James was usually away that Loki had begun using to search for the Casket of Ancient Winters was now taken up by telling tales to keep James entertained while he rested. Where once he would have resented the interruption of his work, Loki found he didn’t mind. Being with James made him happy. It scared him sometimes, just how much.

He’d never had something like this before, and he knew with growing certainty that he wanted desperately to keep it. And James would notice, in the hours they spent lying in each other’s arms on the couch with their feet tangled together, when too many teeth slipped in, and he would pull back to ask what Loki needed. Sometimes it was to pull James’ shirt off and suck bruises into his shoulder and collarbones. They would fade in a few hours, but he was always careful to leave them where they wouldn’t be noticeable, as much as he might want to the contrary. Sometimes it was just to stop, and be held, and let James stroke his hair. Sometimes he hardly knew what he needed, but that was alright because James was there.

By the time the Avengers had completed their latest mission in all of its drawn-out complexity, Loki had nearly forgotten that he was in hiding. It was strange to be a cat again when they joined the post-mission meal, which this time was large quantities of Thai food. He found himself repeatedly remembering that he couldn’t speak in this form, and having to remind himself of appropriate feline behavior. At least James seemed to be having the same problem, judging from the amount of times he appeared about to say something to Loki only to change his mind.

“Terminator, have you been talking to your cat?” Stark asked.

“I ain’t had much else to do lately since I got exploded into a wall,” James replied.

“You mean getting exploded into a wall was what finally sent you over the edge?” Barton asked faux-dramatically, eyes wide and mouth half full.

“No, I think that’s just what all cat people do,” Sam said, but James sat up.

“Are you questioning my sanity, Clint?”

That prompted a minor food fight, which was ended when Loki batted a spring roll out of the air and ate the shrimp out of it.

Barton turned to Natasha, flinging a hand at him. “The hell do you mean he’s not a birder?”

She just rolled her eyes. Internally, Loki agreed.

It was nearing Christmas, so the Avengers put their activity on hold for the holiday. Stark bought a ridiculously large tree for the common floor, and everyone spent an afternoon decorating it. Loki entertained himself by climbing into the branches and refusing to move, watching haughtily from on high as they were forced to go around him and leave a spot bare of lights and tinsel. Of course he got down as soon as a picture was about to be taken. Rogers insisted on stringing popcorn and cranberries to hang on the tree, although he ended up having to make a second and third bowl of popcorn because the others kept eating it. Loki stole a spool of his string, chasing it across the floor until he could hide it when no one was looking. When Rogers finally noticed, Loki was across the room, casually lying on top of the Hulk ornament that was part of a handmade set of the whole team a fan had sent in, once again refusing to move.

Banner blinked down at him. “You know, Bucky, I don’t think I’ve known a cat that was as non-active as yours yet still made as much trouble.”

James laughed when he saw Loki squishing the Hulk-ornament’s head, but then Thor came over, reaching for him and declaring, “Not to worry, I shall soon solve the problem and free your tiny likeness.”

Loki fled into James’ arms.

On Christmas morning, Rogers dragged James out to a church service and then to volunteer with the homeless. James had complained bitterly about having to get up early on a holiday the night before, but ultimately went willingly. Still, Loki watched amused from the back of the couch as James wheedled extra coffee out of his best friend despite the fact that both he and Loki had been awake before Rogers had arrived so that Loki could transform. Loki used the time they were gone to prepare his own gift for James. The strength of his magic as he crafted the spell took him by surprise, another reminder of the depth of his feelings. He also took the time to surreptitiously rearrange some of the mistletoe Stark had positioned across the Tower.

James noticed immediately when he returned, stopping underneath the sprig that now hung in their entranceway. “Huh.”

“Clint, probably,” Rogers said, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

“Gross,” James complained, laughing. He danced out of the way of Rogers whacking his arm, and started pulling his scarf and coat off.

“I’m not the one that makes the rules.”

“Oh, yeah? Y’know this obviously means you hafta kiss Sharon today, too.” James waggled his eyebrows. “I know she’s invited to the party.”

Rogers blushed bright red, and stammered something about needing to go.

“No excuses!” James called after him as he fled into the elevator.

Loki waited until he was gone before he shifted, coming forward to place a hand in the center of James’ chest, pushing him back the two steps until he was once again underneath the mistletoe. James’ grin mirrored his own as he leaned in for a kiss.

“You were the one who moved that here,” he mumbled against Loki’s mouth.

“It’s possibe.”

After they’d spent longer than was strictly necessary beneath a plant on their ceiling, Loki showed James his present. James ran his thumb over the sigils sewn in black thread into the collar of his uniform jacket, then looked up at him.

“It is a protection spell. It will help keep you safe from injury or harm.”

“Oh. Thank you.” James kissed him again.

James’ present for him was a set of four knives, two small push daggers and two longer ones. All of them had his snake and wolf motifs worked into the hilt and crossguard, the patterns picked out with the help of JARVIS. They were beautiful, and, James assured him, of the highest quality. Loki loved them.

That evening the Avengers and assorted friends and partners gathered for dinner and then to drink bourbon-spiked eggnog while opening presents. Multiple people had thought it would be funny to get Loki catnip, so as a consequence he was happily flopped over James’ chest, purring loudly and getting fur all over the ugly seasonal sweater that Natasha had given variations of to everybody. Thor had a flask of Asgardian liquor, which meant that everyone was at least slightly inebriated by the time all of the presents had been opened, and the suggestion was made for dancing. Which led to a discussion of whether they all could dance.

“Shit no, Steve still can’t dance,” James snorted, scratching behind Loki’s ears.

“That can’t be true,” Sam argued. “I’ve seen him in the field. He’s got twinkle toes.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t got any rhythm. Seriously, Stevie, did those showgirls teach you nothing?”

“Bucky...” Rogers complained, his ears going red. Next to him, Sharon Carter giggled into her drink.

“What? It’s true.”

“Yeah, and you already make my dancing look bad enough. You don’t gotta go pointing it out.”

“How else ‘m I supposed to poke fun at you, oh Star-Spangled American icon?”

“Alright so Capsicle can’t dance, but I’ve heard you were a smooth one, Buckaroo,” Stark put in, lounging against Sam and already assembling the pieces of the kit Sam had gifted to him sans its instructions.

James grinned. “Four time Brooklyn Swing Champ.”

“You gonna prove it to us?”

“Last I checked you need two people for swing.”

“I can swing,” Natasha put in, holding out her hand. “Let’s see your moves, Barnes.”

Barton started a chant of, “Dance, dance, dance,” that Darcy Lewis quickly joined in on, elbowing Jane next to her.

James rolled his eyes, displacing Loki to stand. “Fine, fine, I’ll dance.”

A space was cleared and JARVIS started playing “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” Loki watched as James pulled Natasha up and spun her gracefully around the floor and into several lifts to hoots of encouragement from their audience. James was comfortable with her, and Loki couldn’t stop his tail twitching. It didn’t help that the catnip was wearing off. Both of them were grinning when James pulled Natasha up from the final dip. There were claps and whistles all around.

“Well, that was fun,” Natasha commented, falling back into her spot on the couch.

“We should do that again,” James agreed. “I haven’t danced in too long.”

Loki climbed into his lap, demanding attention and rubbing all along his front until James started scratching his jaw again.

Pepper smiled, watching. “I think you’ve made your cat jealous.”

James scooped him up and cuddled him, nuzzling Loki’s head. “Aw, he knows he’s the only cat for me.”

Stark burst out cackling when it turned out that the sole function of his completed machine was to turn itself back off once turned on.

Much later, after there had been more dancing, and some of the guests had fallen asleep in the common lounge, prompting the rest of them to seek their own beds, James stopped him in their living room. “Were you really jealous of me dancing with Tasha, kotyenok?”

Loki huffed and avoided his eyes.

James pulled him close with one arm around the small of his back. “It’s only some fun between friends.” Lacing the fingers of his other hand together with Loki’s between them, he nudged Loki’s free hand up to his shoulder so that they were leaning into each other. It was much more intimate than the position James had held Natasha in, no space left in between their bodies. James brought his head close to murmur low into Loki’s ear, their temples brushing, “But this is all for you.”

He started dancing slowly, swaying them to imaginary music. Loki could feel the warmth of him all along his front. His eyes closed, and he turned to catch James’ lips, the shuffle of their feet stilling as they kissed. Leaning their foreheads together, Loki could feel James’ eyelashes and the fan of his breath across his cheek, the slight curve of James’ lips that still barely brushed his own.

“I love you, kotyenok.”

Loki smiled. “I love you, too.”

 -

Their third date was dinner. On a day between missions, they took an afternoon to cook together, something fancy that they wouldn’t otherwise make. As with most things, their experiences were vastly different, but somehow they balanced each other out and made it work. Bucky remembered various bowls of soupe à l’oignon from across France during the war, but this one was by far his favorite.

Loki returned from setting the table just as Bucky finished pulling the soup out of the oven where the cheese had been browning, slipping his hands around Bucky’s waist to embrace him from behind. When Bucky turned his head, intending to say something, Loki captured his mouth instead in a kiss. Bucky returned it, leaning back into him. Tilting his head against Loki’s, he sighed.

“James?” Loki murmured, kissing his jaw.

“Dunno, it’s just…” He searched for words. Finally he sighed again and twisted in Loki’s arms, looping his own around Loki’s waist and tucking his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He couldn’t help but smile at that, and Loki rubbed his cheek over Bucky’s hair, a vaguely feline gesture both affectionate and soothing.

“Times have changed, I guess. We didn’t ever talk about this kinda thing when I was a kid. It was… Well, a fella could get sent to jail for liking other men. I always figured I’d have to deny that part of me and just go with girls ‘cause I was lucky enough to like them too. But now I’m here and it don’t really matter. I can kiss you right in public if I want, an’ the Supreme Court says anyone can get married, and I just…never thought I’d get to see anything like this.”

Bucky fell silent, just breathing for a while.

“Dr. Nabavi told me it’s not considered an illness anymore, being gay. Or whatever. But sometimes I can’t help still worrying I’ll come off wrong or something, and people’ll know that I’m sick. An’ then I do something so stupidly domestic like kiss you when we’re cooking dinner and I don’t know how I’m not shouting it all over the rooftops because I can.”

Loki’s arms tightened around him. “Do you want to reveal our relationship?”

Bucky huffed. “You’re still hiding, though.”

“Even I cannot hide forever. And I do rather want to claim you as my own.” Loki’s voice carried amusement, and Bucky hid a smile in his shoulder. Loki turned to press his lips to Bucky’s hair. “We can begin to discuss ways to reveal my presence safely, if you would like.”

“Mmm. Later, though. For now let’s just eat dinner.”

 -

Loki woke on the morning of February 15th to thin winter sunlight and James’ skin sleep-warm against his own. They’d stopped bothering to count their dates by this time since living together blurred the line anyway, but last night would definitely have qualified, after James had quit teasing Rogers long enough to send him off to his dinner with Sharon Carter and they had declined to join Natasha’s action movie marathon. James shifted against him, his left arm settling cool at Loki’s lower back and his fingers starting to tease gently through his hair. Loki smiled.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” James’ voice was scratchy from the night and still mostly-asleep. His fingers moved to rubbing circles just behind Loki’s ear.

Perhaps it was a side effect of spending so long as a cat, but that felt heavenly. Loki let out a quietly contented moan and settled closer, relaxing completely. If he had not already been disinclined to move, this would have convinced him.

“You really are my kotyenok,” James murmured, amused.

“I like when you pet me.”

James ran the pads of his fingers down Loki’s spine, and he kicked the sheet further down his back for better access to do it again. If he could get the transformation just right…

“Are you purring?”

“Mmm yes.”

James huffed a laugh, and tucked his nose into Loki’s hair, continuing to pet him. Neither of them noted the passage of time, content to stay as they were. Things felt soft around the edges, as though part of a dream, but one that Loki wanted to be completely awake for. After a while, though, James’ hand stilled at his shoulder.

“Loki?”

He cracked one eye open, peering up at James’ frown. “Yes?”

“How long will you live for?”

Loki sighed and shifted onto his side, facing James across the pillow. “I do not know truly. Why do you ask?”

“They did a bunch of tests, when they found Steve and they were defrosting him, to see if they could find out how he survived. They think with the serum, if he doesn’t get himself killed first, he might live for a few hundred years. What I’ve got isn’t so good as his, an’ I didn’t let them do anything so I don’t know for sure, but the best guess is I’ll live about the same. Maybe less by a century or so.” James chewed his lip. “You mentioned once you’re over a thousand.”

“Yes.” He stroked his palm briefly up James’ back and down. “The average lifespan for an Asgardian is five thousand years, but that is dependent upon regular consumption of the golden apples from the Yggdrasil tree which connects the Nine Realms. When a person has become old and no longer wishes to prolong their life, they may cease eating the apples each year and die a natural death in a century or so. There are, however, no accounts of anyone giving them up when they were as young as I am, and my own physiology is…complicated. It may be that my lifespan will be similar to yours.”

James blinked at him. “…You’re giving them up?”

“Yes. I went without them after I fell, and it is doubtful whether I would have received any while in prison. They are very closely guarded.”

“Are you… Is this because of me?” James whispered.

“No. It is for myself. I am done with Asgard.” He couldn’t help smiling then, reaching up to brush James’ hair back. “But I will not deny that it has benefit for our relationship.”

James pulled him into a kiss, heedless of the state of their breath. “I just… I really want this.”

Loki kissed him again. “As do I.”