#and it doesn't help that the ''i need to be a girl or i'm bad'' is just my ''i need to be attracted to girls or i'm bad'' thoughts but for

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

So this is 5k words. Didn't mean for that to happen. This is for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Sixteen: Didn't Know They Were Dating AU. This is the one fill that doesn't take place in the same timeline as my other fills and is set in some nebulous period between 405 and 409. So Buck knows about Daniel. Jes-Yun isn't born yet. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They meet one night when Maddie is asked to cover a shift at the last minute and Chimney begs Buck to step in for a karaoke trivia thing he'd been invited to. When he arrives at the bar, Chimney is sitting with two big guys at a table. One of the guys introduces himself as Sal, and he seems cool enough. The other guy is Tommy, and he's definitely really cool.

“My girlfriend's brother is stepping in for her,” Chimney explains.

“H-hey,” Buck says, waving awkwardly. “I'm Evan. Buck. Evan Buckley.”

It's the least smooth way he's ever introduced himself in his adult life, but he keeps wondering what the hell Tommy's diet and exercise routine is. The guy is massive. He's so warm, though, when he shakes Buck's hand. Literally, because his hands are radiating heat, but he also smiles with his whole face instead of just a polite tilt of his mouth. Buck finds himself smiling back and ducking his head when Tommy lets his hand go.

“Wasn't your girlfriend the secret karaoke weapon?” Sal asks.

“Yeah, but this guy's the secret trivia weapon,” Chimney says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. “You said science and history always gets you, right? Here's your solution.”

Buck flushes and shrugs when Tommy's eyes sweep over him. “I hope I can help.”

He settles in for a night of karaoke trivia, and he's not much help on the pop culture stuff. But there's an entire series of questions themed around popular animals at the LA Zoo, and Buck gets all of them. As he answers, Tommy's blue eyes stay on him, and Buck finds himself answering with more and more confidence. When Celestial Bodies turns out to be the next category, he's quick to answer everything he knows instead of waiting politely for everyone else in the group.

By the end, the Worst Responders (Sal’s idea) win the night, and they sit with a pitcher of beer, their pride, and a Visa gift card each. When Chimney goes to take a call from Maddie and Sal gets up to use the bathroom, Buck suddenly doesn't know what to say to Tommy.

“That was pretty amazing, Evan,” Timmy says, raising his glass.

Buck opens his mouth to correct him, but instead he clinks their glasses and says, “Not so bad yourself, Tommy.”

Tommy's eyes dip as they both take long drinks of their beer, and Buck hopes he doesn't have something on his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand just to be on the safe side.

“Man, I can't believe you can fly,” Buck says, settling back into his chair. “That's so cool.”

“Well,” Tommy says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, “I need the aircraft to fly.”

Buck makes a face at him. “Yeah, I know, but it's amazing. I always wanted to learn. When I was traveling, I'd end up on these tiny planes sometimes and always thought it would be fun.”

“I could maybe show you a few things,” Tommy says, resting his elbows on the table. “My rates are pretty competitive.”

Buck’s reply is cut off by Chimney plopping down next to him.

“Heard a girl talking about you,” Chimney says, nudging Buck and nodding back toward the bar.

He glances but doesn’t really see anyone specifically looking at him. He figures she’ll find him if she’s really interested. His focus goes back to Tommy, who is sliding a coaster around under his finger and smiling to himself a bit, but he doesn’t look all that happy. Instead, he’s just sort of…resigned.

“How competitive?” Buck asks, and Tommy blinks at him.

Tommy looks between Chimney, Buck, and something behind Buck before his eyes settle back on him. “We can figure something out. Honestly, I don’t usually charge friends. Except Sal.”

“For what?” Chimney asks, frowning at his phone screen.

“Thought I might take up flying,” Buck says, shrugging.

Chimney snorts. “Yeah. That’ll last. This kid’s got more hobbies than anyone I’ve ever met. Dude, I think someone stole my credit card number again. Hold up, I gotta call my bank.”

He disappears again, and Buck looks over his shoulder to see Sal is talking to a pretty girl at the bar, and she glances at Buck. When she sees him looking, she smiles shyly before looking back at Sal. If she’s the girl Chimney was talking about, she is pretty cute.

“I don’t have a lot of hobbies,” Buck says, turning his attention back to Tommy. “Well, kind of. I have a lot of interests, I guess. Which, yeah, is kinda weird, but I like the idea of flying. So I would absolutely be down to learn, and I’d be happy to pay for the fuel or your time or whatever. It’s like learning a superpower.”

Tommy smiles and slides his phone over. “Go ahead and put your number in.”

Buck does, noticing that the contact name is already filled in as ‘Evan,’ and he doesn’t bother correcting that either.

By the time they all leave, Buck has Tommy’s number in his own phone and realizes he forgot to get the girl’s number.

–

Flying is so cool, but Buck thinks Tommy might be a maniac. He’ll do maneuvers that don’t feel like they should be physically possible, and then he laughs over the headset. It’s terrifying and amazing, and Buck is flushed and breathless by the time they land on the tarmac at Harbor Station.

“That was awesome!” he says. “Okay, yeah, I owe you a beer. A dozen beers.”

Tommy takes off the headset and smiles. “How about dinner?”

Buck smiles back, though he feels like he’s still trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay. I could do dinner.”

–

Micelli’s is nice, and they’ve apparently got good beer and good food. Buck finds out that Tommy’s half Italian on his mom’s side, which explains a lot about his looks. His nose is so regal from the side, and Buck’s found his eyes tracing its shape more than once. His mom was first generation, so Tommy was practically raised by a bunch of older Italian women and his grandfather until he was in high school.

“So when you say the food here is good, you know what you’re talking about,” Buck concludes, and Tommy nods. “Alright, I believe you.”

“What about your family?” Tommy asks, and Buck shrugs. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, they’re…fine,” Buck says, shrugging again. He still feels raw when he thinks about his parents. “They’re, uh, back in Pennsylvania. Except Maddie. I think we’re British? Just sort of, uh, WASP-y? But I don’t really know a lot about my family.”

Hell, he knew even less than he ever realized.

“I don’t know a lot about my dad’s family,” Tommy says, and it feels like he understands based on the way he says it. It loosens some of the anxiety that had been building in Buck’s chest. “Scottish, Irish? Something like that. But I never looked too hard. Italians, though, you’d be hard-pressed to find a family that doesn’t want every generation to know every story and legend and the name of every town everyone was ever born in.”

“Family recipes?”

Tommy snorts. “I have a box of them. I’ve been trying to transcribe them just in case something ever happens to them, but there’s so many.”

Buck shrugs. “I could help.”

“Yeah?” Tommy looks surprised at his offer.

“Yeah, I’m kinda good at that kind of stuff,” he admits. “Plus, hey, I wouldn’t say no to learning some new recipes. I feel like I’m finally really getting the hang of cooking. Maybe I can even teach Bobby a thing or two.”

They start talking about the 118, and Buck is surprised at just how different it used to be. From the sound of it, Tommy was really different. Sal, too. And then Tommy felt like he was able to get a new start at Harbor.

“I just didn’t want to die in a closet, you know?” he says, and Buck tries to parse what that could mean. “I wasn’t out at the 118. Everyone thought I was straight until, I don’t know, my last month there? I finally told them right after my transfer went through.”

Buck blinks, realizing he’d somehow totally missed that Tommy’s gay. He realizes his silence could be taken for discomfort and panics. “Th-that’s great! I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s hard. It’s a hard thing to go through.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, smiling softly. “Well, it’s actually just…freeing. Once you get past actually saying the words.”

“That sounds amazing,” Buck says, sighing. It does. The idea of feeling free has always felt like something he’s been looking for. Being at the 118 is the closest thing he’s ever found to that, but he wonders if it feels the same.

Tommy hesitates and starts to say something, but then their server arrives to take their food orders. Buck forgets to ask him what he was going to say, because he starts second-guessing what he was going to order and leans across to ask Tommy about one of the dishes. When Tommy leans in to look at where Buck’s pointing on the menu, his forearm presses against Buck’s and radiates heat the same way his hand did when they met, the same way his whole body did when he'd hugged Buck after their flight and when they met outside the restaurant. He wonders if it's a natural thing for him or if it's his muscle mass that does it.

“So you do like mushrooms?” Tommy asks, and Buck nods. “Yeah, you'll love that, then. But save room for dessert.”

“Okay,” Buck says, unable to keep himself from ducking his head and smiling as Tommy confirms with the server that Buck is getting whatever the hell it was Tommy had pointed to. He hadn't been paying attention.

–

He loves Tommy’s house. It’s got books and movies and records crammed into every available shelf in the living room, and there are cool old tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms that Tommy’s never going to touch even when he updates the rooms.

“Kitchen’s next, but I did a lot of the hard work with the electrical and plumbing already,” Tommy explains. He goes to a cabinet above his fridge and reaches in for an old cigar box. When he stretches for it, his shirt rides up and Buck blinks at the strip of skin that’s exposed. He suddenly feels guilty for staring and forces himself to look at the view of Tommy’s backyard from the window above the sink. “Here they are.”

Tommy sets the box on the counter and flips it open. Inside are old recipe cards, torn out recipes from magazines and ads, swooping writing on yellowed paper, and what looks to be more than one recipe torn out of cookbooks.

They’re killing time before a movie that’s playing at the theater by Tommy’s place, but Buck wants to dive into the recipes and figure out what it was that his family liked or what was important to them, what they held onto across generations, and which ones made little Tommy love desserts so much.

“Can you tell who wrote them?” he asks, carefully turning over a recipe card for some kind of soup made with lentils and sausage.

“Some of them,” Tommy says, leaning over and looking at the card he’s holding. “That was Prozia Camilla, I think. She always wrote her Bs really weird.”

“What’s that?” Buck asks, looking over at Tommy. He realizes he’s close, but it’s not making him uncomfortable. He feels a little warm, but it’s not from discomfort or embarrassment. The heat might be on in the house, or it's just Tommy being a human space heater. “Aunt?”

“Great-aunt,” Tommy clarifies. “Aunt is zia, uncle is zio—pretty easy. Nonna, Nonno–grandma, grandpa. Cugina, cugino–cousin, female or male. You add pro for great-aunts and -uncles, bis for great-grandparents. There’s one that’s in a baggy from Bisnonna Valia, I think she wrote it down when Mussolini was in power.”

Buck carefully picks through the box until he finds it, and he doesn’t take it out. He does inspect it, though. The paper is translucent and faded, the ink a brown-ish color. “What’s it for?”

“Canestrelli. It’s kind of like a shortbread cookie.”

He likes how Tommy says the words in Italian, the way his mouth shapes the vowels and kind of rolls the Rs but not really, the syllables he emphasizes a little differently than the way Buck probably would if he read the word from a page. He’d asked Tommy if he spoke Italian, and he sort of did. He mostly just understood it, but he sounded like he knew it whenever he said any of the words.

“These are amazing,” Buck says softly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the paper inside its protective plastic. “Is it weird that I wish I knew them? All the people who wrote these down.”

When he glances at Tommy, Tommy’s looking at him and not at the recipe anymore. “No,” Tommy replies softly. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. They would’ve loved you.”

Buck grins. “Really?”

“Definitely.”

He flushes happily at the thought, even if Tommy’s just being nice. When he sets the recipe back in the box, the alarm on Tommy’s phone goes off.

“I kind of want to just look at these,” Buck admits. “But you said the movie’s really good.”

“Evan, it’s Casablanca,” Tommy says dryly. “It’s literally one of the greatest movies ever made.”

“Well, then I guess we have to go,” Buck teases, closing the box and handing it over to him.

When Tommy puts the box back, Buck’s eyes dip to his ass this time. It’s really a work of art. He wonders what kind of squats he does.

–

Buck’s a mess.

“You didn’t tell me it would be sad,” he moans as he snacks on the last of his popcorn on the way to Tommy’s truck. He’d driven, because it was easier than trying to find parking for two cars near the theater.

“A lot of the best romance movies are,” Tommy says. “But I don’t think it’s that sad. He loves her, and he knows she’s going to be happy. It’s not like Ghost or Moulin Rouge or Brokeback Mountain or anything.”

“I’ve never seen those,” Buck admits. “How can it get any sadder?”

“I mean, one of them could’ve died.”

Buck sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But—can you imagine finding the person who makes you feel like that and having to watch them walk away with someone else? People don’t realize how awful it feels to just be left behind.”

He realizes he’s projecting a lot onto a movie that’s eighty years old, but it does suck. Buck would know.

“Sometimes you just want to be the one people will stick around for,” he mumbles.

Tommy bumps their shoulders together gently as they walk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Buck smiles and bumps his shoulder back. “You say that now.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to leave you behind if I could help it, Evan.”

The way he says it makes Buck’s heart thud in his chest, and for a moment he’s worried about another blood clot. He looks over at Tommy, who’s looking at him, and he smiles.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

Tommy puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close for a moment before they get to the truck. Buck gets into the passenger seat and considers the few kernels of popcorn left. He wonders what Tommy’s favorite happy romance movie is and what it’s like, what he likes about it and the characters, if he identifies more with one than the other.

“So that’s the best romance movie?” he asks instead.

“I mean, that’s subjective, right?” Tommy says, turning on the truck and pulling away from the curb. “I think it’s pretty close to being the most objectively perfect one, yeah.”

“Is it your favorite?”

Tommy considers the question for a moment. “It's up there. It changes, honestly. I really like Love, Actually, but Princess Bride and Moonstruck are amazing, too. Casablanca is pretty perfect, though.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Buck says, smiling. “I did like it. It just, y’know, made me a little sad. Also, I didn’t realize that whole ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ thing was a reference. I’ve heard so many people say that and thought it was some idiom I never learned.”

Tommy snorts and shakes his head. “I swear, I will expand your knowledge of movies.”

Buck normally doesn’t really care. He doesn’t have the same attachment to movies that a lot of his friends have, but he likes Tommy showing him things. The flying, the restaurant, the recipe box, the movie—maybe Muay Thai? He knows Eddie does it. Buck’s never really had an interest in it, but Tommy had offered to teach him and Buck had twirled his pasta around his fork and said he’d be interested because nothing sounded cooler. Now that he’s seen the set-up in Tommy’s garage, it would be kind of awesome to have one-on-one lessons and then go inside to make old family recipes.

He looks over at Tommy as he drives, and he notes that Tommy seems as at ease behind a wheel as he is doing anything else. He had also seen the car lift in Tommy’s garage, currently empty but awaiting a Chevelle he’d had his eye on that needed work, and he wonders if he’s always liked cars.

As he watches, he also realizes that Tommy’s side profile is pretty perfect. It’s not just the nose, it’s his entire face. Tommy’s a really handsome guy.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, sounding amused.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Buck slides down in his seat a little, feeling caught out for some reason. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy slows to a stop at the light and looks over at Buck. He smiles and squeezes Buck’s wrist briefly, his huge hand almost engulfing it. He doesn’t understand how someone his height can be so big. With his free hand, he reaches over and picks up Tommy’s hand, manipulating the digits until they’re flat, and he presses their hands together to compare the size. Buck’s never met someone with bigger hands than his who wasn’t at least six and a half feet tall, but Tommy’s fingers stretch a little further, his palm is a little broader.

Then Tommy turns his palm just a little and curls his fingers until they’re between Buck’s, and Buck curls his fingers, too. He smiles and looks up at Tommy, who’s looking at him intently. It makes Buck’s heart pound again.

A car honks, and Tommy startles a little. He laughs to himself as he continues driving toward his house, both hands back on the wheel, and Buck feels his hand close around nothing, feeling empty.

–

Tommy is walking him to his car, even though it’s parked right in front of his house. They’re talking about the next series of movies the theater is showing—old noir stuff, some of which Tommy’s never even seen.

“That could be cool,” Buck says, putting his hands in his jacket pocket so he won’t reach for Tommy’s hand again. It would be weird. “We can see when our shifts line up.”

“They do them all in two month blocks,” Tommy explains wryly. “So that’s going to be a lot of calendar checking.”

“We can always share them to each other,” Buck points out. “Figure out other days we can do stuff.”

Tommy’s eyes look between Buck’s, down to his chin, and back at his eyes again. “Like what?”

Buck smiles and shrugs. “Anything. I mean, we’re kind of the perfect bar trivia partners. We can go around town and hustle all of them out of their gift cards and small cash prizes. But I really do want to help you with the recipe thing. You really think your family would’ve liked me?”

“Evan, do you have any idea how likeable you are?” Tommy asks, leaning his shoulder against Buck’s door.

“Hey, you’re pretty likeable yourself,” Buck says shyly. “You’re kind of the coolest person I’ve ever—”

He doesn’t get to finish, because there are two fingers under his chin and a pair of lips on his. For a moment, he freezes, because Tommy is kissing him. That should be weird. He’s never had a male friend kiss him on the lips unless it was during Spin the Bottle or under mistletoe, and those were always pecks or done with some reluctance on their part. But he can feel Tommy start to pull away and wants anything but that, so he brings his hand up to Tommy’s shoulder and keeps him there while Buck kisses back.

Tommy’s lips are soft, though his stubble is a little scratchy, but Buck doesn’t mind it. He really doesn’t mind it.

“Was that okay?” Tommy whispers when he does finally pull back.

Buck nods and his eyes drop to Tommy’s lips, which don’t look any different than they did a minute ago, but now he knows how they feel against his. He still has a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and brings his other one up to cup his jaw to keep him still when Buck goes in for another kiss.

It feels better than okay. It feels like a real first—well, second now—kiss. He feels like an alarm bell should be going off somewhere in his head, but all he’s getting is a need to feel more of him, to taste more of him.

They’re kind of making out against Buck’s Jeep, and Buck is definitely going to need to talk to Hen about this. If he likes kissing a guy just as much as he’s liked kissing a girl—hell, more than he’s liked kissing some girls—what does that mean?

Tommy pulls away again and presses their foreheads together. They’re both breathing hard, and Buck wonders if Tommy will ask him to come inside.

“I meant to take this a lot slower,” Tommy says. “You seemed…new. I know Howie doesn’t know, but does anyone?”

Buck wonders if he’d missed something in their conversation. “Know what?”

“That you’re—” he gestures between them. Then he pulls back more and searches Buck’s face. “You are, aren’t you?”

“What?” he asks again, feeling very slow. He doesn’t love the feeling, but he's also still really stuck on the feeling of Tommy's lips.

“Wait, are you?”

“Oh, my god, Tommy, am I what?” he asks, laughing.

“Into guys?”

Buck blinks. “I don’t—I’ve never really thought about it?”

Except for that one time in Texas, but he knew that he came off as flirty sometimes when he didn’t mean to. That hadn’t been TK’s fault. Hell, TK was gorgeous and a really good firefighter, and—oh.

“Oh,” Buck says, raising his eyebrows. “Huh.”

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks, searching Buck’s face for something. He’s not touching Buck anymore, which kind of sucks.

“Yeah.” He looks at Tommy and smiles. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He is. He really is. It’s a little bit of a shock, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be fine. Well, he might need to talk to Hen and Maddie and Bobby.

Then it hits him—Tommy walked him to his car. While the sun was up. In a good neighborhood. After the movies. He’d done the same thing after Micelli’s, after they’d flown, and he’d hugged Buck every time. It had felt good and warm and safe. But Tommy always walked him to his car.

“We were just on a date, weren’t we?” Buck says slowly, then counts. “Like, our third one. Wait, did you take me flying for our first date?”

“I thought I did,” Tommy says, his brows raised. “Did you really have no idea that I was asking you out?”

Okay, yeah, Tommy had said they should go out sometime before they’d left the bar the night they’d met, and Buck had agreed and Tommy had grinned. It had been really distracting.

“Huh,” he says again. “Wait, you waited until our third date to kiss me?”

“I thought you needed me to take it slow,” Tommy says, leaning his elbows on the hood and burying his face in his hands. “I thought you were new to this.”

“I mean, I am,” Buck points out. The way Tommy’s leaning makes his ass pop out a little, and his jeans are tight enough that they definitely qualify as date jeans. “Maybe not that new, actually. It’s normal to check out a hot guy’s ass, right?”

Tommy looks at him incredulously. “Evan, how would I know what straight guys do? I’m a Kinsey six.”

“Right,” Buck realizes, though he’s still not clear on the second part. “What’s a Kinsey six?”

“It’s a scale for sexuality. I’ve never actually been attracted to any women.”

Buck frowns. “Really?”

He’s found a lot of guys attractive, because that was just a thing Buck could see as a person with eyes. Hell, one of the first things he thought about Connor was that he had a killer smile. Then he had followed him to Los Angeles. From Peru.

“Oh,” he realizes, pulling out his phone and looking up ‘Kinsey.’ “Two? I don’t know, actually. I’ll have to think about it.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “You’re not, I don’t know, mad?”

Buck frowns and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Why would I be mad?”

“A lot of guys get mad when another guy kisses them if they weren’t really expecting it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You can just tell someone you’re not interested.” His eyes flick down to Tommy’s mouth. “Or figure out that you are.”

“Are you sure—”

“You should come over so I can cook you dinner,” Buck says, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see Tommy in his loft and at his table. In his bed? Yeah, probably. “Saturday?”

Tommy smiles. “You mean tomorrow?”

Buck thinks about it. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

When Tommy kisses him again, Buck wraps his arm around his shoulders and spreads his hand over Tommy’s side. Tommy moans softly against his mouth, and Buck’s lips part further so he can tease his tongue against Tommy’s lips.

“Jesus, kid,” Tommy breathes when the kiss breaks, and it sends a bolt of heat through Buck’s belly. So, yeah, definitely guys. Guys are good. At least one is.

Buck’s phone goes off, and he reluctantly checks it. Maddie’s due pretty soon, so he can’t ignore his phone just in case it’s her.

It is, and Buck answers quickly.

“Maddie?” he says before mouthing an apology to Tommy. “Are you okay? Is the baby—”

“Buck,” she says. “Are you still coming over for dinner?”

Oh, right. The reason they’d done the matinee show for the movie. Buck’s supposed to be having a sibling dinner with his sister. He’s now late for it and feels like a dick.

“I am so sorry, I forgot. I’ll be there in twenty, twenty-five minutes? Do you need me to get anything on the way?”

“If you could get me enough garlic bread to fill your car, I’d be so happy.”

Buck snorts. “I can get some. Maybe not that much. But I’ll stop, just turn the oven on. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!” she says brightly. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says, hanging up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was, and I did actually forget. I got, uh, distracted.”

Tommy smirks. “‘Distracted’?”

Buck swallows and nods, his eyes going to Tommy’s lips again. “Yeah.”

“God, you’re adorable.”

He’s never had a guy call him that before. He likes it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tommy says. “When do you want me over?”

“S-six?” Buck says, feeling himself sway toward Tommy like they’ve got magnets in their mouths. “Five. You start early on Sunday, right?”

“So do you,” Tommy points out.

“Oh, yeah,” Buck says dumbly. He goes in for another kiss, but it’s quick. Tommy pushes him back gently with a hand to his chest and nudges their noses together briefly before stepping away. “Bye.”

“Bye, Evan,” Tommy says, smiling and going toward his house.

Buck fumbles with his keys before he finally unlocks the Jeep, and he watches Tommy until he goes inside. It’s a thing he’s always done on dates. When Tommy waves before heading inside, Buck waves for a long time until the door is closed.

“Fuck, okay, garlic bread,” he says, turning the Jeep on. He grins the entire way to the store.

While he walks through Ralph’s, he also looks for stuff to use for the dinner he’s going to make for Tommy. On their date. Their fourth date.

Buck knows he’s standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle and smiling at his phone like an idiot. He knows that he’s going to spend half of his Saturday trying to perfect some kind of dessert. He knows he can’t wait to see Tommy and that he’s felt that way every time he’s seen him since they met.

[autumnheartsprice]

PART 2 TO THIS!

|female reader, female anatomy, omegaverse, sex, p in v, impregnate, brief mention of birth, degradation & praise, not proofread|

Alpha!Price x Omega!Reader

As she slept for a few hours, he never once got a blink of sleep in fear she would wake up in pain. Which to his luck, did come true and she started whimpering and moving so much that she woke herself up. Price quickly put a hand through her hair to ground her as he rested his hand at the curve of your back. "Shh, shh, it's alright 'Mega.. go ahead and tell me what's wrong, yea?" he asks, trying to get her to look at him but she refuses. ".. hurts.." Was all his pretty girl was able to mutter as he climbs over him more and starts to grind her barely-covered vagina over his boxers. "Ye gotta tell me what you want with your words, dovie, or else ye not gettin' anything." He states, moving his hands to rest on her grinding hips at this point.

She whines and starts to paw at the hem of his boxers to try to pull them down but he holds a strong grip on her wrists to stop her, causing a whimper to escape her lips. "P-please Alpha.. I need your knot, I need it.." She whispers now, eyes filled with unfallen tears as she waits for his approval.

He nods and releases his grip from her wrists, she quickly starts to pull his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help her. She doesn't hesitate to pull her panties to the side and try to fuck herself on his dick; "Uh-uh, present to me Omega." He growls, giving her a squeeze on her ass.

She whines at the delay of her getting fucked but manages to crawl off of him and get on all 4s in front of him, back curved and hips in the air as she presents herself. "Atta girl, hm? What am I gonna do with you, pretty dove? Guess you want my knot, don't you?" he teases, slowly sliding his fingers up and down her clit as she needly nods. He forces a finger into her slick hole, feeling her clench around just 1 finger.

It doesn't take him long until he's pounding her into the cheap mattress while her moans echo off the walls. Her begs are filled with mercy and desperation as she begs for his knot. He leans forward and flushes his torso with her back and kisses her shoulder to her neck. "Hm, you want it that bad? I mean, I really should think about if you really deserve it, honestly.. You did lie to your Superior, let alone your Captain, and then had to have him fuck you 'cause you started your heat." he grumbles into her ear.

Her slick sounds and his balls slapping against her ass and thighs only got louder. "No- no, please.. I didn't mean it- I swear! I'm sorry, I'm sorry.. I'll make it up to you, I swear..! Please just knot me, please.."

She starts gripping the bedsheets tightly, knuckles starting to turn white. "Hmm, I don't know.. Seems real slutty for a little Omega like you to just need her Captain like this.." He pushes her hair to the other side and gently bites her earlobe as he grunts into her ear.

"C'mon dove," slam "let me knot you.." slam "Let your Captain-" slam "knot you.. Let it all go," slam "cum with me and I'll," slam "fill you with my knot and my kids, huh?" The two moan together as he continues to ruthlessly pound into her before the cum together. His cum starts to leak out of her hole and he pushes it back in with his thumb. "Such a good girl f'me, dove.. So, so good.." He softly runs a hand through his hair as he keeps his knot in her. "You're gonna be all 'round for me, filled with my kids.."

After she falls asleep on top of him again, slightly snoring and.. drooling? He makes a call to Simon and tells him he's extending the stay at the safehouse for a few more days and leaves no room for questions before hanging up. This time, he allows himself to sleep as he rests his hand in your hair.

When you come back to base after a week and a half at the safe house, the strong smell of John's scent is stuck on you and gains you weird states but you shake it off and get back to work. He gives you the key to his room and briefly stares, "You're staying in my room now. You can go to yours when you need to, and need space, but otherwise, you're stuck with me." And ended the conversation with a kiss before walking towards his office.

9 months later, a small litter of 3 infants are softly sleeping in their own crib in the cabin John bought you both that's placed in the middle of the woods, reminding you of the safehouse he impregnated you in. Safe to say, he only allows you to start doing paperwork 4 months after you gave birth and you retired from the field.

The Hidden

Alpha!Price x Omega!Reader

|gn!reader, no smut, abo dynamics, little but not really angsty, crying, fluff|

An Omega who was a part of the military was rare, nearly non-existent honestly. Weren't even reliable enough to be an assistant on base.

That's why you hid it. After years of mistreatment and abuse of power from your higher-ups, you retired that lifestyle. With a few scent blockers and pheromone perfume to make your scent more like a beta's, you progressed your way to a Sergeant. It wasn't the easiest to have to hide it in front of a team full of Alpha's and a Beta, but that's the only way you'll be able to continue working with them.

That's why, when you were assigned to help your Captain set up a safehouse in the middle of a forest and hours away from base or even any publicity, you didn't bat an eye.

It's day two of setting up the safehouse. After just arriving yesterday, only the smallest things were completed as the hours spent hiking up the mountain to this spot used up all energy from the both of you. You dug through the items that still needed to be sorted and put away, trying to make piles of similar items. Price was outside chopping some wood for the cabin's fireplace, the cool breeze outside only to get worse by nighttime.

Once most of the items found a home somewhere in the small cabin, you started putting together a small dinner of chilli for the both of you to share. Price abruptly opened the door, carrying an armful of logs as he quickly shut the door behind him, the coolness of the air already entering inside, the breeze sending a shiver up your spine.

Price sets the chopped wood by the door, rubbing his hands together before toeing off his boots. "Sorry love, 'tried not to let the cold air in." he muttered as he started taking his jacket off. He noticed your nod, the only form of response from you. He sets his jacket over a chair before walking to the kitchen, eyeing the pot of chilli you were making, before leaning against the counter to where he could see your face. "Ye alright? Haven't said much since we got here." he says, taking notice of your pink cheeks. "Look a bit feverish there, love." He adds, walking over to feel your cheeks with the back of his hand, only to feel your soft skin burning up.

He notices how you tense up and move away from his touch as he feels your cheeks. "I'm fine, sir. Must just be the weather gettin' to me." you explain. You turn the stove off and move the pot to a different burner before grabbing two ceramic bowls for the each of you. His brows furrow in suspicion but decides to let go of it. "Alright, if you say so, Sergeant. I want you to rest up after supper though, you hear me?" He states, leaving no room for rebuttal like you usually would, but you only hum in response.

He watches you only eat a few bites of chilli, only forking at your food before eventually getting up and excusing yourself to the bedroom. He watched you walk away as he finished up his own food, before cleaning up dinner and saving leftovers for it you got hungry later.

It was his night to sleep on the couch since he got the bed last night, although he forgot his charger. Making his way up from the couch with a grunt, he walks to the bedroom, stopping himself from knocking as he thought he heard something. Small whines and whimpers came from the other side of the door, too lost in your own pain to hear his footsteps walk up to the door. His Alpha heart aches at the whimpers, sensing the Beta in distress; he slowly twists the doorknob and lets himself in. The room was pitch black, only the small bedside lamp illuminates a quarter of the room. Your back was facing the door, not sensing him letting himself in.

He makes his way into the room, silently shutting the door behind himself as he walks around the bed and to you. He starts to strongly pick up a sweet scent from you, way too sweet than your usual self, but a bit bitter. He makes his way in front of you, seeing your head put into the palm of your hands. He reaches his hand out to slowly pet your head, only for you to quickly snap your head up at the sudden touch and bare your sharp canines, a low growl coming from deep in your throat before you even realize you were doing it to your Captain, of all people. He moves his hand to scruff the back of your neck and calm you, which works as it usually does with you, but your sweet scent starts to turn more bitter and sour. He finally gets a better look at you, seeing your cheeks flushed with sweat dripping down your forehead, your hair sticking to your face, and pupils wide.

"Jesus Christ, the fuck goin' on with you?" He mutters, expecting a damn good reason for why you look like you just crawled out from the pits of hell itself. He gently puts your hair behind your ear to get it out of your face. You shake your head, acting like you don't know, which very clearly doesn't meet his expectations. "You tell me what the fuck is happening right now. That is not a question, that is an order, Sergeant." He husks out, gripping your jaw and pulling your face up to look at him.

Your eyes start to brim with tears, your chest tightening and getting harder to breathe; he only tightens his grip on your jaw, expecting an answer. "P-Please.. I.. I need you, Alpha.. please, just do something.." You whisper, voice shaking with anxiety as you pull the collar of your sweater down, exposing your inflamed and very red scent gland.

Price lets go of your jaw and steps back, taking in the sight before him. Only Omegas get inflamed scent glands like that... Only Omegas..

He has to force himself to take a deep breath to remain calm, he can't scare you in a state like this. For fucks sake, it'll take hours to even get help to you.

"You.. You're an Omega..?" he slowly asks, taking a step closer to you. He watches as a tear rolls down your cheek as you hesitantly nod. "I-I'm sorry.. I'm so so sorry.." You quickly mumble, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. "Hey.. sh, shh.. it's alright, love.." He whispers, slowly taking your hands in his and pulling them away from your face. "Let me see, okay? Can't help ye if I can't see what I'm working with, lovie, I'll be nice and easy." He soothes you. Gently rubbing the back of one of your hands with his thumb as he uses his other hand to lower your shirt collar again to reveal your scent gland. You unconsciously tilt your head to the side so he can get a better look. He softly runs his thumb over your inflamed gland, causing a pained whimper to leave your mouth and making him pull away.

"Alright, lovie, it's okay, I'm not gonna touch it no more.. Let's take this off of ye, okay?" He explains, carefully taking the fabric of your shirt into his hands, he looks up at you for your consent and with your nod, he gently pulls it up over your head. He brushes your hair behind your shoulder as he thinks.

"Love, I know you haven't been fully honest before, but right now, I need you to tell me the exact truth so that I can help you." He says, a firm tone in the Alpha's voice which makes you whine. "Are you in heat right now or is this from abusing scent blockers?" He asks. He watches as more tears roll down your cheeks, he's sure it's from the stern voice during a vulnerable moment like this or even from just plain embarrassment or pain, but he doesn't have time to worry about emotions than your physical health. He sees you stick up 2 fingers to silently tell him it's the second option and he nods.

He's sat on the bed with you in his lap, your back against his chest, and the two of you both shirtless. He rubs some soothing lotion on your scent gland, having to hold you down as you try to get out of his grasp as you whine in pain. He whispers soft reassuring words as he tries to get you to lay back against him. "C'mon, sweet girl.. it'll be better once I can get this on ye." Which somehow gets you to rest your back against his chest again, earning an "Atta girl." as he starts to continue treating the inflammation.

He gets you to rest for a little bit, almost falling asleep before you start to whimper in agony, trying to claw off your scent glands, before he quickly realizes what you're trying to do and pries your hand away from your neck. He sighs, not knowing what to do anymore to help you besides give it time. He wraps his arms around your chest to pull you back against him, and he starts to pick up that bitter, almost rotting, smell again. "Sweetheart.. ye gonna let yer Alpha scent ye? Hmm? Help make the pain go away?" He murmurs into your ear. He gives you time to think, before he sees you nod and he knows that's the only response you'll give him until you feel better.

He readjusts you on his lap, turning you around so that you're facing him, telling you what to do if you ever want him to stop. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He nudges his face, telling you to tilt your neck more, which you do. He rubs his scent gland against yours, starting to scent you. He feels your head fall back in relief; He puts a hand behind the back of your head to give you support while continuing to scent you. His gruff beard rubs against your soft neck, reminding him to shave in the morning. He feels his heart ache listening to you whimper and cry on his lap, but he knows it's because it's making you feel better.

You soon fall asleep in his lap, finally feeling comfortable enough. He takes advantage of this and lays down, letting you lay on top of him. He pulls a blanket over the two of you but doesn't turn the lamp off, not wanting to not be able to fully watch you in case of anything.. Or because his Alpha instincts are taking over and want to protect his Omega.

PT. 2?

[baked-potatoes-rule]

Yellowjackets S3 brief thoughts.

It's clear by now that the person leaving the phone and Juice Newton's "Queen of hearts played" (I was waiting for that one, can't believe that actually did it), is most likely adult Melissa, making her the final survivor. And I am honestly content with that.

Mari fell into the pit? Is that foreshadowing or is Gen going to be pit girl? Making Mari the girl that they eat alive.

Kudos to Ben for helping Mari. I know people love to hate him but, he did good. I would've taken her with me too because she would most likely tell on him.

Natalie trying to cover up for Ben? Her tender soul continues to shine and I am so happy about it. I love how she runs the game...No cockiness or pretentious bs. She's just trying her best to make things roll smoothly.

Van smiling when her and Taissa spoke about Ben causing the fire? And him telling Mari he didn't? Kinda Sus Van.

Adult Taivan and their Breakfast at Tiffany's like moment was so wholesome, until the waiter died.

Why the fuck is Lottie making Travis drink that stuff? Why doesn't she do it? He is beyond exhausted and terrified. Akilah giving him the duck to hold? Such a precious moment. I feel so bad for him.

The adult timeline Misty scenes were fantastic. I loved every moment of her on screen.

Lottie still wants to be Shauna's kid's baby daddy.

Shauna's behaviour right now is absolutely excusable. She lost her fucking baby and they are praying for its soul to save them. What the fuck. As someone who's into woowoo shit, I would be furious too. She's traumatized, she lost two people who meant the most to her and now she has to dress up like a forest dumpling (I love their outfits) and pray? I would be slapping a bitch too if it were me.

Melissa leaving the flowers on top of the rock Shauna put after moving her baby- lovely gesture. I know we haven't seen much of her but I like her character. I really hope her and Shauna stick together for the teen timeline. And honestly about time someone is trying to approach her in a sensible way.

Not commenting on the kissing scene...I already anticipated ShaunaHat after the trailer.

Why are adult Taissa and Van lying to each other?

Callie is just like her mother and I'm not sure how to feel about it. Or do I? I love it.

Jeff needs to file divorce. He needs to get into a relationship with someone who's actually compatible with him and leave Shauna so she can find someone compatible with her. Adult Melissa I'd say. Or Lottie.

Perhaps I'll sit and dig deeper into the details and write stuff separately.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

SECRET OF US - IX

blowing smoke

i know what you are, brighter than the stars

tell me if she takes you far

far enough away from all the baggage you've been carrying

up another hill to all the girls who'll help you bury it

masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

summary: in the aftermath of emotional destruction, you're well equipped to pick up your own pieces, but that doesn't make it any easier

pairings: modern! coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, drinking, violence, blood

notes: omg ya'll im back from the dead! so sorry i was on vacay and got very ill and were currently in the process of moving so a lot has been going on but im out of the influenza fog lmao 🤍

By Wednesday you know you need to get up and go to class, you know you can't hide any longer in your room. You're not sure why you feel devastation creeping up into your chest, you shouldn't have cared, you shouldn't have started to even try to care. You did. You had cared and it was hurting so much that he had left without even a second glance backwards at you.

You get dressed, you do your makeup, you try to remember normal things. You try to summon strength and courage, but it felt like another part to play.

When you finally step foot in that hall, finally make your way towards that theater for the thing you had been dreading the most, you're chewing on your fingers. You wonder if he'll pretend that nothing happened, you wonder if he'll go back to joking with you in a condescending manner. As the door opens you're not sure what version of Coriolanus Snow you'll get and the skin gives on you thumb red blood bubbling in the corner of your cuticle.

"Feeling better?" Flickerman asked you.

You nodded, "Yeah I uh had a...really bad cold."

He eyes you sympathetically, but then they're moving behind you lighting up slightly. "We're back in business finally!" You feel his presence filling up the space and you take a shaky breath feeling every step he takes more towards you. You hear him set his bag down and fight every urge inside of you to turn towards him, but he swerves around you, the scent of him ensnaring every sense as he heads up to the stage. You're forced to take him in, you're forced to watch his long legs carry him up the steps and all you can think of his warm legs tangled beside yours. You can't do this, it hurts too much, you can't..."Ready?"

"Yeah." You nod, shakily walking forward and up the stage as well.

You continue to avoid looking at him as you go through multiple scenes, ones your characters didn't have to interact much. His voice sings to you like a pretty siren song, pulling you, making you get loss in it all once more, until you're finally forced to stand five feet away from him. You know you have to look at him, you know you have to speak to him, but it seems so difficult as you slowly glance up at him.

It hits your heart first, seizes it up and then it's sinking straight to the bottom of your stomach. His blue eyes are dark, angry, cold, indifferent, like treacherous waves and you remember that look, had seen it every day in the Academy. It was familiar, it was comfortable, but not anymore. You wished to see the lightness, the glint of mischief, of desire, of joy.

Everything in your head empties but devastating rage.

"Was any of it real?" You grit out.

"No." His voice is as frozen as his last name.

Your knee buckles. "All those...all those...and I..." All those secrets, all those deep thoughts and revealing statements you had handed over so easily.

"Just another part."

The hot simmering fury boils and shoots up your throat. "I don't believe you!"

He seethes, "I don't care what you believe."

You slap him, cradling your stinging palm as you heave at him. His eyes dart to it, to your scabbing fingers, to the dried out maroon blood, something shifts in his eyes for a millisecond as he stares at it, but it's gone with the next heavy breath and he's as angry as you. "I'm done here." He pushes past you.

"Is something..." Flickerman starts trying to stop him from leaving the stage.

"I quit." He grabs his bag and storms up the aisle.

Flickerman looks to you and you know you're already going to chase after him before your feet start moving. "Snow!" You yell after him. "Coriolanus!" He doesn't stop this time. "Coriolanus Snow you stop right now!" You push through the glass doors outside hearing the traffic honk at you as he stands along the sidewalk. "Snow...I shouldn't have slapped you."

"It doesn't matter." He doesn't look up at you.

You struggle to find words after days of wishing he would speak to you, "You...please...we should..."

He glances at you, and it cuts like a knife. "You won, I backed out, you have the stage to yourself, can't you just be happy with that and leave me alone. Isn't that what you truly wanted?

Your brows furrow in confusion. "What?" You step forward latching onto his arm. "I don't care about winning anymore!" Winning didn't matter if you couldn't have him, and yet those words sit in your lungs. And maybe you shouldn't have, maybe you should have believed his words and left him alone, but you are grabbing onto his face to make him really look at you. His face is so void of emotion you're tucking all of yours away, slinking back within yourself as if he wasn't the one that had pulled you out of the depths of your soul.

He pulls your hands away from his face. 'Pretty lies."

'Coryo!" Livia Cardew is walking up the sidewalk. "You got done early." Shock settles in deep watching her walk right up to him and take his hand. You can't take your eyes away from where they were connected, at what that all meant. In three fucking days he had went slinking back to Livia Cardew. "It's good to see you." She says to you so sweetly.

You want to scream, you want to hit him again, hit her. You want to dig you claws deep into his chest and rip out his frigid heart to swallow whole. "You too." You lie as your eyes quiver, as you throat tightens. No, you would not cry in front of him, in front of them.

She laughed, "For two people who hate each other you are awfully magnetic to one another."

You disappear into the back of your mind mimicking her small laugh. "Yeah, I suppose so." You turn back around, walking back towards the building on unsteady feet.

You're sitting in the dark, the only light coming from your phone as you scroll through your phone sipping on too many glasses of wine. It's him, all pictures of him, pictures you found on pages, pictures you had taken of him, pictures you had dug through your old school's website to find.

You stalk Livia too with a permanent glare in your eyes as you scroll her stupid pages. What did they even have in common, what did they even talk about? Were their conversations even stimulating, interesting? She could never understand him the way you could, she would never truly see him and you hated yourself for being able to. You hated imagining them kissing even more.

Answer me.

Please Coriolanus talk to me. Why did you leave?

I miss you.

You never sent the last one. Well, none of them truly sent but that last one was quickly deleted before your drunk induced sadness got the better of you.

He had blocked you on everything, the gray icon staring at you whenever you searched for his profile. He dropped out of the play, dropped the class completely. It was like he had never existed, but you smelled him in your sheets, travel sized shampoo bottle still sat in your shower, coffee mugs and silverware littered the bottom of your sink from him.

You closed your phone submerging yourself into a pitch-black world the tear sliding down your cheek.

TWO WEEKS LATER

You sit at that coffee table most days, the one lined up against the window while you work on various assignments sipping on half melted iced coffee. You watch spring sweep across the city through glass in budding trees and sunny rainstorms.

It's hard to focus on much, but you try. You had never been a bad student, so it wasn't hard to pass while only applying half of your normal effort. You wished for this funk to end, you wish you could rattle the memories out of your head, you wish your eyes didn't shoot up every-time they heard the door chime open.

It isn't him.

It never is.

It was like he had vacated the city to never be near you, avoiding every usual spot you would find him.

You find yourself walking, following familiar patterns of concrete slabs and lamp fixtures letting the traffic lights warn you to turn around. You never listen; it's why you were in this mess to begin with right? You hadn't listened to everything inside you telling you Coriolanus Snow would betray you, that the pair of you would take the whole world down in a glorious blaze. You definitely never listened to your father saying he was using you, but that didn't seem quite right.

You tried to piece it together, if it had been to make you flounder as a lead, why had he dropped out? What had he had to gain by using you? Was it simply to throw you off, to string you along and wring you out to prove that he could? To finally shut you out, to break you?

It never made sense.

You stared up at his apartment building. You could go in, you could force him to confront you, explain, you even felt the front of your foot slide forward.

That wasn't you. If he didn't want to be in your life then fine, you would never force him to stay. You were better than that. You wouldn't break, especially not for Coriolanus Snow.

The only thing that did make sense was the fact he had believed you could turn on him so quickly. He had changed, you had too, but not nearly enough to matter.

You walked away, headed across town to another building, a building you actually went inside of and took the elevator to the top floor. When the receptionist smiled at you and asked if you had an appointment, you gave her your name.

"Follow me." She stood up. "He's been expecting you."

You did follow her, let her give you the mini tour already knowing the internship was yours thanks to the man attached to your last name. She knocked on a door and pushed it open leading you inside.

"Mr. Highbottom." You shook his hand. "Thank you for the opportunity again." You smiled the steel locking in around your heart, no more distractions, no more stupid games with stupid boys. "I won't let you down."

TWO WEEKS LATER

You're curled up on your couch watching shitty reality television when your front door flies open. You know who it is, remembered making two copies of your key for your best friends.

Clemensia quickly grabs the remote to shut off the T.V. so you're forced to look at her. "Alright what is going on?"

"You've been avoiding us." Arachne slides onto the arm of your couch.

"I've been busy with my new job." They both look at you, seeing through the pathetic lie.

You sigh running your hands over your face as you finally tell them everything, about your father, what you had said, what Coriolanus had said, and how everything was so stupid and confusing. "So, he overheard you lying and assumed that was the truth and left?"

"I guess." You shrugged. "I get it though. I think after so long of seeing the worst in each other it's easier to latch onto that."

Arachne rolled her eyes, "Bullshit."

She was right, because you wanted to believe what he was saying, but deep down, after long nights of talking, seeing the way he looked at you, that didn't seem true either. Now you just felt numb about it, and you were tired of even giving it space in your brain. "Are you okay?"

"I will be." You nodded. "Just is hard when there's not closure. I'm not sure what the truth is anymore."

"The truth is." Arachne started. "Coriolanus Snow is a dick and we should kill him."

You laughed, the first time in a while. "That's not even the worst; he went running right back to Livia Cardew."

An audible gasp came out of both of them.

"That's it!" Arachne came around your couch hoisting you up by the arms. "We're getting dressed up, we're getting slammed, we're getting laid." Clem shot her a look, "Potentially, and were going to forget Coriolanus Snow ever existed."

You let them. You let them cheer you, pull you from the drain you had been circling. They were being the good friends they were by refraining from reminding you of their warnings. You knew they would come eventually, when his backstabbing wounds were a fading memory. For now, they would be kind. You let them get you ready, get you drunk, and relish in their love. The only love you think had truly ever matter, the only love that you'll ever need.

You find yourself in an uber heading towards Panem, a bar uptown you and your friends frequently visited. It had loud music, strong drinks, and a sea of bodies to get lost in. It was everything you needed to shake off the emotional slump you had been in. You hug your friends as you huddle around the bar waiting for the bartender to come take orders, "Thank you." They both stared at you strangely, your group wasn't big on sentimentality. "For being my friends, for knowing me."

Arachne slams her card down seeing the bartender out of her peripheral. "Shots." She smirks at the bartender. "Keep the tab open."

By the fifth round you are forgetting a certain blue-eyed boy, you forget that you were even sad and were confused why he could ever make you sad. You were over him, over his perfect face, his perfect kisses, you were over it all. You were almost done with school, you had an amazing opportunity within that internship if you really let yourself go along with that plan, you had a long secure, cushioned life ahead of you.

Your arms come down to your side slowly as you stare blankly ahead of you. Sure, it was the safe route, the route you should take because it was easy, but it never felt right. "I'm gunna go use the bathroom!" You shout to your friends who pay you little attention as you disappear. You go to the bathroom, take too long washing your sweaty hands, and then you're staring at yourself in the dim lighting.

There's an underlying ache in your chest, a longing for something more you keep running from. You keep running as you head out pushing through too many tangled limbs until the fresh air hits your face. You'd go back in, order another drink, you just needed a moment of quiet noise of a distant city. You dig for your phone scrolling mindlessly through old messages you're not sure you wish went through when you hear your name.

"Festus Creed." You don't even look as he slides up next to you, you pocket your phone.

His shoulder presses into yours, "Long time no see."

"Thankfully."

He smirked at you, "You were always such a joy." He digs through his own pocket and pulls out a small white box sliding a cigarette out and into his mouth, "Want one?"

You hold out your hand, "Sure." You take it slipping it between your lips and watching him bring the lighter up to your face lingering too long within your personal space. You usually didn't smoke, but the alcohol had curbed most logic.

"What have you been up to?" He finally asks after you take a deep inhale letting the nicotine numb your brain for a moment.

"Not much." You shrug refusing to fully turn your body to speak with him. "Got an internship with Highbottom."

He whistles out, "Dang I got turned down for that."

"Can't imagine why." You chuckle tapping away the ash as smoke fills the air around you.

He smirked, "We both know why."

You cock your head to the side. "Do we?"

"Oh, come on like we all don't know how you get into all those exclusive places, all the best scholarships and jobs." He rolled his eyes leaning closer. "Your father drives a hard bargain." You glared watching his grin only grow more sinister, "He had a point...Snow...you do look rather tasty with that scowl on." Your lungs seize up as you watch him take a slow drag of his own cigarette. "I just saw him, at D12, you know that bar with a live band...he was wasted, poor bloke."

You cross your arms, "What does that have to do with me Festus?"

Time moves so slow as he takes another drag, as your heart pounds under your sternum betraying every cool metal you had welded around it. "Well, I had to ask him why he was so upset, and he brought you up." He takes a step closer to you, "Droned on and on about you slipped through his pathetic fingers." Another step, "And I figured since you seem so open to fucking all your old classmates, it seems only fair..."

You slap him. "You're a pig."

His hand shoots out around your elbow your handprint stinging his cheek. "I'm just messing with you."

"Well, it's not funny." You snarled. "It's sick."

He comes in close, "He can't be that much better than me, right? Poor little Coriolanus...tell me how much pity did it take for you to spread your legs for that leech?"

You yanked your arm back. "Let me go." His nails bite into your skin. "Let me go!"

He shoves you back against the brick wall of the bar, "We all know what he is. He was never one of us." You can't breathe, you can't see straight all you can think of is that random man ripping at your corset, and now here was fucking Festus Creed groping you against a building. "What he did to Se-!"

You gave one more tug before something shot across your vision and his grip released on you as his body flies sideways. "Get your fucking hands off of her prick!" The voice sent a thrill down your spine and shock glued your soles to the cement; all you could do was watch Coriolanus Snow beat the shit out of Festus. You watched in a strange awe as he brought his muscled arm up to pound back down into his stupid face, "If you ever touch her again." He growled out as Festus flung pathetic fists around landing a few hits onto Coriolanus's face; it didn't faze him nor stop him. You remembered that alley, that man he beat into the asphalt, you need to stop him, you need to do something, but you're mesmerized by his ferocity. Two men fly from the building, one goes to you asking if you're alright, the other attempts to pull a rabid Coriolanus off of Festus...and failing.

The word 'cops' brought you out of it and you sprang into action. "Snow." You shook him. "Snow!" You moved to grab his arm, "Snow!" You crouched down and grabbed his face instead, "Coriolanus." He stilled; red rimmed blood shot eyes stared back at you. "You have to go."

He clambered off of Festus who spat out a wad of blood muttering a quiet, "Slut." But before Coriolanus could get past you to pummel him more, you kick him with the point of your heel before shoving him away from the bar.

"What were you thinking!" You shouted at him. "You could have killed him!"

"He was grabbing you! He was hurting you!" He shouted back.

You shook your head, "Why the fuck do you even care?"

He doesn't get the chance to answer as Arachne and Clem come barreling out of the bar. "What's going on?"

Their eyes dart to Coriolanus and Festus's bloody body being slowly pulled to his feet. "Go cry to Ma about how pussy whipped you are Snow!" He spat at your feet. Coriolanus moved to go after him again, but you stepped in front of him.

"Stop it!" You shove him back before he could make more of a mess of this situation. "Stop," You breathed, hand splayed against his heaving chest as he stared down at you; broken, lost, raged. Your eyes furrowed slightly as you drown in a sea of dark blue then to the small cut above his eyebrow. Clem cleared her throat, and your hand falls back to your side. "I should make sure he gets home okay."

Arachne swears under her breath. "He's not your responsibility."

You look at her. "I know, but Mrs. Plinth deserves that."

Her anger faded as she nodded, "Okay." She pulls you into a hug. "Text us when you're home." She glared at Coriolanus as she stepped back; he lets her anger hit him, no retort or defense as you dig for your phone to call an uber.

"Come on," You pull him down the block. "We can wait over here."

"I wish she hit me." You glance over at him as you hit the confirm button on the app watching the little car move through the city. "I would have deserved it."

You close your phone and tuck it away, "Do you want me to drop you at Livia's?"

"I...We..." He sighed. "It's not like that." You laugh under your breath but hold your tongue. "I'm not talking to her anymore."

You raise an eyebrow, "Wasn't interesting enough?"

"She wasn't you."

Your head snaps over to him before your eyes narrow. "You have a lot of nerve." You don't even want to hear his defense as you watch the car approach. "Get in." You fling the door open and force him to climb in first and then the silence suffocates you. You feel him in your space as quiet music lulls through the speakers, you want to say so much, ask so much and yet you know you shouldn't care anymore. But that ache shows up again and all you can see behind your eyes in his red ones. "Why do you care what Festus said to me?" You ask again quieter.

"I'll always care." He mumbles out.

You fight the scoff rising in your throat, "You've made it quite clear you feel the opposite."

"I..."

"And months ago, you were using Livia against me, now you're not speaking to her because she's not me, yet you felt too comfortable flaunting her in front of me." Your nails dig into your palm to avoid letting him see they were shaking. "So, again, why do you care?"

He only sighs, his head falling against the cool glass of the car window thrown off by his own emotional whiplash. You make the driver drop you off first, he could take Coriolanus home and have the Plinths deal with him. You wanted to listen to that tiny part of you that worried, but who cares what it had to say. You throw open the door without a backwards glance and head towards your building.

A part of you thinks you hear your name being called, but that part was naive as the part that worried. You only feel relief when your door slams shut behind you letting you slide down to the floor. You hadn't truly seen him in months, been alone with him since before everything fell apart, yet there he was five feet from you, and you wanted to strangle him and kiss him all in one. No, you were over him, you had moved one, but the raging in your body didn't cease. There was so much you wanted to say, to scream, but it felt better feeling it explode inside of you.

She wasn't you.

Knock...knock knock..........knock.

You know its him by the shape of his body pressure behind your back through the door. You close your eyes breathing through knuckles as you fight every urge surging through your body. You missed him, gods you missed him, but you hated him, you were furious, and heart broken and-

You yank the door open letting him storm inside, take your face in his hands and kiss you.

You feel everything, the swelling in his upper lip, the cuts along his knuckles as your grip sits on his wrist. You taste everything, the blood, the vodka, a smoking cigarette. You taste his rage, his loneliness, his desire and longing.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what's happening, then you're pushing him away staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. He looks pathetic and forlorn, and he deserved to, and you hate him for looking so devastating. He moves towards you again, cupping your face. "Please just..." You feel your body melting into his touch as he brushes his lips against yours. "Please baby." You let him kiss you once more, let yourself enjoy it, savoring the shape of him, the warmth of his mouth, missing the feel of every ounce he had ever given you.

"Coriolanus." He sighs into your mouth, body pressing harder into you moving you until an island is digging into your back. He lazily drags his mouth along your jaw as you run a hand down his head, "Coriolanus you're drunk."

He nuzzles into your neck, warm arms entrapping your body. "I know." He engulfs you all the ways he used to, and you feel metal bars bending apart inside your chest cavity.

"I'm drunk." You were and it was clouding your judgement as you felt tangled up in him. He was pulling you back into an endless cycle of no doubt toxic behavior for both of you, and you were so close to letting him. That stops him and he sighs against you, "Let me clean you up and then you have to go."

You went over to him picking up his cut-up fist. "That night in the alley." He says once you dig out your first aid kit. "When I saw..." He swallowed hard and you slowed your breathing trying to not spook him into silence, "When I saw what was happening all I could think of was waking up to Sejanus's body, how I-how I let it happen, how I couldn't save him." He watched you clean the blood away, "I couldn't let the same thing happen to you, I couldn't lose you too."

You brushed your thumb over his bruising knuckle as you slid the band aid over a bigger cut. "That wasn't you fault."

"Everything is my fault." His hand comes up and cups your face forcing your forehead against his. "Look at me."

You shake your head, "You should go to bed." You tug his wrist away from your face, "It's late we both had a lot to drink., you can stay here until you feel better." You try to smile, "We'll go back to hating each other in the morning."

He dips down to capture your lips, "Then pretend with me..."

It sounded so nice when he said it like that, like you both could pretend nothing bad had ever happened, like neither one of you broke the other's heart. "Go to bed Snow." You try to remember how you were, how to hide the fact what he said was hurting, how to prevent yourself from digging the knife in deeper. You usher him down the hall into your bedroom allowing him under your blankets once more. He moved over, giving you space to climb in. "I'll go get you some water."

"Where's the book?" He searches your nightstand for the familiar cracked spine.

You pointed to the kitchen with your thumb. "I uh...I threw it out." You hadn't wanted reminders of him since he had made it sure you knew he wanted the same. But here he was in your bed, missing and kissing you.

His face falters in the dark. "Just lay with me for a few minutes." You shouldn't but your body moved without much thought as you climb under the same blankets laying on your side to face him.

"Why were you there?"

He sighed, "I was being stupid." You raised an eyebrow urging him to elaborate. "I ran into Festus, he started running his mouth, said some...distasteful things about you, I didn't think he'd go after you. Then I saw Clem's story and I wanted to make sure you were okay... I wanted to see you."

"Why?" You try to keep your tone even, try to not let in that this was hurting.

"I..." His hand slid around your waist. "I miss you." He trails it up your bare spine, "I miss your warmth, I yearn to be burned by you once more."

It sinks into your stomach; the want, the need, the same feelings he was voicing. It clouds your head as he drags your body closer to him, his heat seeping into your soul. "I hurt you." You remind him.

"And I you," He mumbles as his face buries into your collarbones. "It's what we do best."

"Rather masochistic." He kisses up your neck. You indulge him, indulge yourself in what would only bring pain in the morning as his teeth graze your pulse.

He pulls back and stares down at you. "Kiss me."

You swallow, "It's wrong."

"It's never been wrong." He leans down and kisses you hard enough to kiss him back. He's right, kissing him, being with him had never been wrong, so you tangle your fingers through his hair feeling him groan down your throat as his tongue melds with yours. You want to give in to him because it feels so good, so right, in the dark light it was like no time had passed at all, still him, still you. But time had strained itself between you ripping a hole where 'us' should have been and you pull back, you remember your twin flames swallowing the world. "Tell me something real." He asks into your mouth as you heart constricts.

"I'm done playing this game with you Coriolanus."

"Just one more truth."

"That was." You roll away from him and walk out of your bedroom door.

You barely sleep, staring at the ceiling while city lights pour in through the window. Your decrepit soul was fractured as he lay sleeping in your bed. You wanted to go to him, curl around his body, feel him against your skin. You also wanted to smother him with a pillow and bruise his other eye for what he did to you.

It's no surprise you're up far too early making coffee for yourself when he finally pads into your kitchen. You feel him watching you, hear his knuckles aching as he grips the back of a chair waiting for you to face him. "Spit it out Snow." You sigh pulling down a coffee mug.

When he doesn't respond you finally turn to face him regretting it immediately as your breath catches in your throat. You sip your coffee to hide it as you force up a nonchalant brow at him, "Thank you." Your brows raise even further. "For preventing a homicide."

"Don't thank me for that." You scoff.

"You still helped." He stares down at the chair debating on sitting, debating on attempting to stay in your life.

You toy with the rim of your mug, "Unfortunately."

"Look about-!"

Your eyes flare as you feel your internal tail rattle poising to strike him like he had to you. He opened the door allowing you the moment you needed to slap him with the hard truth of his actions, "About what? About how you left me after overhearing a stupid lie? About how you show up to class with Livia-fucking-Cardew, but you're not seeing her because she isn't me? About how the first time I hear from you is after you supposedly defend my honor? You think you can ghost me for weeks, beat the shit out of some guy, and just kiss me again like nothing happened?" Your lip curls in disdain, "Where do you get off Snow?"

He matches your anger in a cool blue flame sort of way. "I heard you." He growled out, "Or did you forget telling your father about how you were using me."

"You never thought to ask me about it!?" You slammed your mug down so hard the glass quivered. "You thought to leave without a second glance without even wondering why I said it?" You actually start to laugh, "I was fucking lying to him. I wanted to just shut him up about you and your father and everything else I was doing wrong."

He reeled back. "You..."

You sighed putting your face in your hands, "I didn't mean any of it, what you heard was far from the truth." You groaned at the ceiling, "This is why we don't work, there's too much damage, too much mistrust...like you said, it will always lead to ruin. We were just fooling ourselves."

He's so quiet, you barely hear him breathing. You hoped he has left, you hope he stays out of your life. All of that heartbreak and crying over a stupid miscommunication, misunderstanding, because he would believe that lie so quickly; it frustrated you beyond belief.

"I hated you so much." Is the first thing out of his mouth. "I hated you and your father and every time I had to see your face at the Academy." You slowly glance up, "You were everything I couldn't stand, everything I couldn't be, stubborn and clever and privileged and you had it out to get me." He stares down at his bruised, cut up hands, "I had to be better than you, I had to beat you." The rivalry started, the competition, the feud between you two. "It was exhilarating, hating you, that passion, that fire. It was consuming." You watched him swallow, watched him toy with the corners of the band aid. "I didn't realize it was love until it was too late, until the only thing that could ever be between us was hatred."

Your left knee buckled as he slowly glances up at you. His blue eyes are glassy, water welling in his eyes. "What?"

He stares into your soul, "I fell in love with you back in school. I loved your ferocity, your drive, your loathing." You grip the counter to stop yourself from falling over. "You hated my guts, and I loved you for it."

"But you-you..."

"I was cruel? Of course I was, I didn't want to fall in love, I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't understand what I was feeling, why my heart sped up when you would glare at me or argue with me. I hated feeling that way, I hated thinking about you all the time, and I hated you for making me feel that way." He chuckled sarcastically. "I willed it to stop, I wished that wicked curse away, but it followed me incessantly."

Cruel, wicked curse of mine.

You wanted to throw up. Everything, nothing it was impossible to make sense of it all. Every word, every glance, every touch and kiss, it was being unwound, the very carefully crafted thread was falling to pieces in front of you.

"I figured once we graduated, once we were apart, the feelings would go away, but there you were, in the same college, the same major." He took a deep breath. "And then you were on a stage five feet away from me about to kiss me, and I knew I never stood a chance." You let go of the counter feeling your eye twitch. "You won, you will always win, my flame has always been yours." The world tilts. " I love you." You're dizzy as you walk around him to your large window that overlooks the crowded city. "Say something please...Shout at me, scream at me, just..." Tell me you love me too. "I know you feel...felt something for me too."

He's right. You did, and you were so close to letting him have it all, but he walked away, he believed the worse in you like he always would, like you always would too. You hurt him, and he hurt you, and that's how your story will always go, there was no other ending, how could there be. Disaster was written in the stars. Your hatred had been too deep, and it seemed impossible to climb out of it no matter how much love could be formed. Maybe that made you a coward, you weren't sure, all you knew is the one truth; these games with Coriolanus Snow had to come to an end. You close your eyes feeling every iron bar snap, every glass cage slam down around you.

"Get out."

"What?" His voice is so quiet, so distant.

"Get out." You don't dare turn to look at him your strength would fail if you turned to see his ruddy face. You feel water slip down your cheek, hear it plop onto your floor. "I never want to see you again Coriolanus Snow."

You feel the ghost of his touch, you brace for it and know deep down if he grabbed you you would tuck yourself into his arms and never leave. You would continue to break each other over and over again until nothing was left but shattered ice.

You hear his quiet exit, you flinch when he softly shuts the door behind him cutting the room into grieving silence.

guys wouldn't it be so funny if i-

next part soon!

[huellitaa]

i giggle so hard whenever i see one of my posts on someone else's blog like omg..... i'm actually liked by people..... blushing rn

[beef-brisket]

((Fucking- God damn it, Adam.

Abel is such a cutey 😫😫))

Adam felt his heart melt when Abel hugged him tightly.

Adam: You be careful to, okay? These bastards still have angelic weapons, I'll do what I can to keep an eye on you, but you need to prove yourself to the girls, yeah?

Abel nodded and moved away: I know, I just... I hate sinners to- but murdering them? I... I know it needs to be done, but... I'm scared.

Adam: I know, hun. It's... tough. Especially your first few exterminations. But you'll get there.

Abel: I... I don't know if I want to... d-do you think you could convince Sera to let you be the commander again?

Adam felt so bad for his son. He really didn't want to do this, and knowing Heaven and his past experience, they wouldn't have given Abel a choice.

Adam: I can try, bud. But uh... she probably won't fall for it... I could recommend someone else, but if I do that, I'd have to say some harsh things about you- and I don't want to do that.

Abel chuckled when Adam pulled him in for a hug again: It's okay, dad! Lie if you have to!

Adam laughed: Okay, okay. I'll recommend Lute.

-

Lucifer watched the two exorcists interact, and they looked... close, to say the least.

At first, Lucifer thought they may have been together, but now... he can't help but feel there's some kind of parent relationship going on.

Does that mean Abel sees Ada as a mother? Is Adam dating- no. No, they slept together. Surely, the first man would pick better partners than a cheater- but then again, how good in bed could Adam be?

Lucifer swears this extermination is getting stranger and stranger.

-

Lucifer: Heeey~. You looked good out there~.

It took every ounce of Adam's willpower not to groan when he saw Lucifer standing in front of his room.

Adam just wanted to shower and crash.

"I know I looked good. I look good all the time, bitch."

Lucifer chuckled: Oh, I'm sure~. So... three days left, huh? Not long till you go back to Heaven... want to spend the night with me again~?

No

"Do I have to?"

Lucifer laughed: Don't be like that! I had a great time, last night! And, I know you did to~.

Adam blushed. Bastard.

"I guess so... fine, just let me shower-"

Lucifer: No. I think I have a thing for you covered in blood~. Maybe I could... lick it off~?

That's disgusting. Or at least, it should be... so why is Adam into it?

"That's... not sanitary."

Lucifer laughed: Well... you could always shower at my place. With me~.

Ada made no move to sign anything, but Lucifer could hear the cogs turning in her head. Maybe he's convinced her. And if he could get her in the shower, he'd be able to see her face.

Surely the exorcist doesn't wear her helmet in the shower.

Adam the Exorcist

@beef-brisket

Lute looked up wide eyed as her commander was giving his speech and there was a little sinner coming up behind him.

Lute: SIR BEHIND YOU!?

Adam stopped and turned, he gasped and grabbed Nifty by the neck and threw her at the hotel crew and Lucifer, glaring at the lot of them.

Adam: THIS ISN'T FUCKING OVER!!

Lucifer: I think it is bud, you should go home.

Adam glared more, he was leaving because he wanted to not because this little fucker told him to. He waved his hand giving them the signal that extermination day was officially over.

Adam: Exorcists fall back!

Lute: But ..... Sir -

Adam: NOW Lute!!

She nodded and glared at the King and princess of Hell along with her friends. They all flew back to heaven and Adam flipped Lucifer off before he was fully back in.

Adam groaned when the portal closed, they had never had it go that wrong that fast. This wasn't going to end well.

-

Adam: Retire!?

Sera sighed she knew Adam wouldn't take this well.

Sera: Yes Adam, it's time you step down as the commander of the exterminators.

Adam: Is this about what happened!? Because it won't happen again.

Sera: You're right, it won't.

Adam sighed: But Abel? My boy is too soft to do that job.

Sera: There's no one else to do it. You nearly died down there we....... We can't lose you.

On one hand he understands where she's coming from, but he was meant to do this! The only reason things went bad was because Lucifer showed up.

Lute just HAD to kill the princess's pet.

Adam: I don't want him to die.

Sera: He won't. We will be doing a more regimented training routine. You deserve a rest Adam.

Adam: ..... Yes Sera.

She smiled and held out her arms, Adam hugged her. She was only doing this because she loves him, he knows that. Doesn't make it suck any less.

Adam went back to his room to lay down, he didn't realize how tired he was until he did.

There had to be a way that he could still be an exterminator.

Some how.

[aromanticannibal]

izuku who doesn't remember or know kacchan is trans will always be so fucking funny to me. he just sees kacchan in pants/skirt (depending on transmasc/transfemcchan) in UA and he's like mm. anyways

[doerot]

Let's play will my roommate sleep in her bed tonight or is there Still something wrong

[antiadvil]

send you a vibe!! 〰️〰️ hope you feel better soon 🫶🏻

thank you 🫶🏻 luckily the post-tit headache was just like 2 days and now i am back to normal headache 🫡 i really appreciate ppl checking in though 🥹

[doodlingwren]

Hiatus

I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.

Thank you for your patience ❤

Wren

[visdiefje]

[dimonds456]

hey tumblr, thanks for recommending me a TERF post "based on my likes." I hope the hour I spent blocking as many people as I could bear in the notes is enough of a hint for you.

[loving-jack-kelly]

yesterday sucked so bad it was the longest day ever I cried at work and I slept like a rock bc I was so exhausted and then today I woke up and it was literally like. the sun is shining the birds are chirping it feels like fall I made birthday plans with my best friend for march that I'm so excited for the thing that was stressing me out so bad yesterday at work is fixed and over with and everybody is telling me I did well with it even though it felt like I did not in the moment AND I my adoption application was accepted at one of the shelters I applied to so I got invited to their adoption event to meet their dogs tomorrow AND I'm seeing hozier in a week and two days and that does not feel real but also it actually hit for properly for the first time today :) how the tables have turned oh and ALSO I'm watching a horror movie with emma tonight and last night I think it would have killed me bc I was so tired and empty by the time I got home but today I am Hyped for it

[welcometogrouchland]

Pacing back and forth rapidly rambling to my parents like a mad man trying to figure out whether or not I experienced sexism at film school today or if these guys are just assholes in a different way

[camellia-thea]

i made the mistake of opening the jellycat website.

they have a jack russell now. it has one black spot across its back like jazzy.

[cupcakesmoothie]

Something about me and mean lesbians with their cute sweet girlfriends that they're absolutely whipped for

Lesbians