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watermelonlipstick · 4 years

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Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

“They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

“Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

“I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

“I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

“Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

“Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

“Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

“It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

“I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

“But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

And you woke up.

The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

“How long have you been talking to Dean?”

He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

“Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

“He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

“It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

“I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

“The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

“Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

“I’m surprised you remembered.”

Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

“Can I help?”

After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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myemergence · 3 years

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Angel in the Snow

Pairing: Bobby Nash & Athena Grant

Series: 911 First Kiss Week

@911firstkissweek

Rating: Teen

Summary: Bobby needs to return to Minnesota for a friend’s wedding and he’s struggling with the idea of it, knowing all of the memories and ghosts waiting for him there. He doesn’t think he can handle a weekend filled with pitying glances and whispered conversations. So Athena does what any friend would do, offering to go with him for the weekend, as his girlfriend.

Read it on AO3

thanks for the beta, love!@nurse-buckley

* They stood in the Minneapolis Saint Paul airport, and Athena watched the movement of travelers across the space, although it wasn’t terribly busy. Having just claimed their luggage, Bobby turned his attention to Athena. Disbelief bled into his expression as he muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite make out, but he held out his handt to take her luggage just the same.

“Let me get that for you.”

“I am perfectly capable of carrying my own luggage,” Athena pointed out as he took it from her, though she didn’t argue the point further.

“And your coat?” Bobby said slowly, as he glanced at her attire. She adjusted the collar at the mention, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I’m wearing it.”

“You’re wearing a jacket.” The correction caused her to scowl. “How exactly did you picture the weather in Minnesota during February?”

“I don’t know, Bobby,” Athena huffed out. “Chilly.”

“Chilly.” Bobby repeated softly, at war with his barely restrained laughter, and the annoying smile that he tried to fight off made his lips twitch. He placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to face the window where snow was falling steadily outside and Athena had to admit, at least to herself, that it looked downright blustery. “I’d say tipping more towards the frigid end of the scale.”

Athena felt his hand slip away from her shoulder, and tried to ignore the way the loss of his warmth sent a chill throughout her. They walked towards the exit with their luggage in tow.

“Hang on,” he said, stopping her just short of leaving the building. He took his coat off, slipping it over her shoulders unceremoniously. She swam in the coat, the length of it nearly reaching her ankles and she cast her sharp gaze over to him.

“I’m going to look ridiculous, Bobby.” Athena’s argument was weak, at best. Over the past few months her friendship with Bobby had grown by leaps and bounds, and he’d somehow found a way to navigate around all of her barriers, even the ones she’d believed were cemented into place.

“Ridiculously warm.” His smile turned to a full-on grin at the poor excuse of a joke, and she rolled her eyes where she stood, still being swallowed whole by his coat.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said, and Athena didn’t argue as she followed him past the glass doors, out into the biting cold of the Minnesota night.

Athena shivered in the passenger seat of the rental car, despite the coat that surrounded her. In the few minutes that they’d been out in the cold, somehow it had seeped into all of the worst of places—her toes, fingers, and nose. She leaned forward in the seat and placed her fingers in front of the vent, trying to suck up as much heat as she could.

Despite the fact that Athena felt like a damn popsicle, Bobby had walked around outside in nothing more than a fleece and he acted like that was normal.

If she didn’t know any better she’d say that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, but surely he was completely focused on the snowy roads and she had imagined it.

“So who the hell actually wants to get married in Minnesota in—” Athena waved her arm around in an all-encompassing way, “—this.”

Bobby laughed as he stopped at a light, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Well, Jay was born and raised in Saint Paul so this,” he mimicked for dramatic effect, his lips tugging up into that same teasing smile as before, “is normal for him.”

“And his fiancee?”

“Is from Minneapolis.” Bobby paused for a minute before he added with an air of nostalgia to his voice. “I love my life in LA, but I do kind of miss the winters here.”

“You miss winters here?” Athena repeated, because there was no way that could be the case.

“Especially around Christmas. A green Christmas doesn’t quite ring the same for me. There should be snow outside on Christmas morning.” Athena watched the way his eyes crinkled, probably recalling some memory from Christmas past, but then his features tightened, turning more serious. That simple tic reminded Athena of the real reason that she was here with Bobby.

Although he hadn’t wanted to admit it at first, he was worried about coming back to Saint Paul and all that it could mean for his sobriety. Between that and the pitying thoughts and sad glances he’d receive, asking him how he was doing without Marcy and the kids, he honestly didn’t think he’d go through with it. He’d struggled with saying no until Athena told him he didn’t have to, that he wouldn’t have to do it alone. That she would go with him, be there for him.

“I’ll be your plus one,” she’d said, “your way out of all of those conversations.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he’d said.

He hadn’t, and she knew that he never would put her in that position, especially if he thought it might have made her uncomfortable.

Hanging on Bobby’s arm for a night, playing the part of his doting girlfriend—that was a sacrifice that Athena was willing to make.

Athena was drawn out of her thoughts when the car pulled to a stop.

“You alright over there?”

“I’m fine,” Athena said, shrugging her shoulders. “Just ready to get settled.” She looked around and her forehead creased when she realized that they hadn’t pulled up in front of the hotel as she assumed they had. They were parked in front of a department store.

“Bobby, what are we doing here?”

“If you’re going to survive three days in Minnesota, we need to get you a coat. And clothes.”

“I packed clothes.” She forced herself not to roll her eyes again at how ridiculous he was acting about her bringing a jacket, and not a coat.

“Have some heavy sweaters in there, do you?” Athena opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but Bobby plowed ahead, not allowing her to further argue. She wasn’t sure what she’d argue anyway, since she knew that in this particular case he was right.

“Besides, what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t buy you at least some new clothes on our trip?”

After he loaded the final bags of their shopping trip into the backseat of the rental, Bobby rounded the car, stopping short when he saw Athena standing outside of the car. She shivered as she slipped off his coat and held it out to him. “Here.”

“Athena,” Bobby said with a shake of his head.

“Put it on, or I’m going to stand out here with no coat on until you do.” Athena gave him that matter-of-fact look that spoke volumes; more than what she was actually saying. Bobby knew that she was stubborn enough to do it, even if the Floridian blood that pumped through her veins was no match for a Minnesota winter.

Bobby took the coat before he slipped it back on, watching as Athena took her new coat out of the bag and put it on, zippering it with a noticeable shiver.

“This could’ve waited until we got back to the hotel.” Athena shrugged off his words, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling the gloves on over her hands.

“I think you overbought for a few day long trip. Do I really need all of this?” Athena moved around the contents of the bag.

“Better to be prepared,” Bobby said, “plus, you’ll be all set for your next trip to Minnesota.”

Athena laughed, shaking her head at him. “My next trip? I think you’re out of your damn mind.”

Bobby closed the car door to the sound of her laughter, then took his time to brush the snow off the car while it warmed up. He joined her inside the warm cab of the car a few minutes later, buckling his seat belt as he turned to her.

“You can’t possibly have such an opinion about Minnesota when you’ve only been in the state for a couple of hours,” he said.

“I think it is very possible,” Athena argues, rubbing her gloved hands together, as if she weren’t covered in layers to warm her up. The ensemble really suited her, though Bobby had to admit that he missed the way that she looked wrapped up in his coat. Even though he was the one wearing the coat now, Bobby felt like some of the warmth that surrounded his heart only a few minutes before had seeped out.

And he found himself shaking away the image of Athena walking around in his clothing.

“Well, I guess I have a few days to change your mind so our shopping trip doesn’t go to waste.”

Athena reached over for the radio dial, finding something for them to listen to for the short drive to the hotel. Bobby still couldn’t get over the fact that he was lucky enough to have a friend like her who would put her own life on hold just to make sure he was okay. She knew that this wasn’t going to be an easy trip for him, and she’d decided to make it easier—though maybe she hadn’t really thought about the logistics of what that meant.

Still. There isn’t any one else in his life that would’ve just offered to be his plus one for the entirety of the weekend. He did feel bad telling Jay that he was dating Athena, but the lie only needed to last a few days. Plus, his childhood best friend would be way too busy to spend time with them to realize that it was all an act. They were just friends playing a part.

Bobby drove through the snowy streets, shifting his gaze over to Athena a few times, where she tapped at the screen of her phone. “Everything okay back home?”

“Yeah.” Athena smiled, tapping a few more times before putting her phone away. “Just letting Michael know that the plane landed and we’re on the way to the hotel. He wants me to call once we get settled.”

“I’m sure you’ll want to talk to the kids, anyway,” Bobby said, noticing the way that a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as he turned down the road that the hotel was located on. Bobby continued into the parking lot, seeing her smile turn into a frown.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bobby asked, knowing that a [semi truck] could’ve fallen from the sky while he looked at Athena and he wouldn’t notice.

“The radio.” Athena reached for the knob and turned up the volume, the voice that was broadcasting over the air getting louder. Bobby focused on the voice on the radio more, as they went on to explain that there was a blizzard warning in effect for Saint Paul and the surrounding counties for the next 24 hours.

“A blizzard?” Athena said, the tone of her voice definitely pitching in a way that made it sound like the [announcer] had just advised that the world was ending in the next 24 hours.

“It’s just some snow and wind,” Bobby told her calmly, “we’ll be fine, I promise. Let’s get inside before the winds pick up too much.”

With that, Bobby flashed her a quick smile before he climbed out of the car, grabbing their luggage from the back. They made their way inside and a breeze began to pick up once they got closer to the hotel’s entrance. Athena stepped inside first and he followed just behind her.

“A blizzard, Bobby?”

“Saint Paul just wanted to give you the complete winter package.” Athena sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as they waited for the couple in front of them to get checked in at the front desk.

When it was their turn, Bobby flashed a smile at the woman who appeared to be in her early-twenties. “Reservation for Nash.” Bobby pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, then slid his driver’s license and credit card to her

“Let’s see here,” Mary, the concierge’s name according to her nametag, said. “Our [standard] room with one queen bed, right?”

“Uh, a queen bed, and a rollaway,” Bobby corrected.

“Let me check and see if we have any left.” She tapped away at her keyboard and Bobby waited patiently, glancing at Athena who stood beside him, glancing around the lobby.

Mary made a sound from the other side of the desk, then gave him an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, Mr. Nash, but it looks like our last rollaway went with a room just a little bit ago.”

“I called ahead,” Bobby explained, sure to keep his voice even. He’d talked to someone just the day before who confirmed they did, in fact, have rollaways. “We need one because we weren’t able to get the room with two queens. I was told that you had rollaways.”

“We do have them,” she said, “we just don’t have any available right now. You can double check with us after checkout tomorrow morning, one might become available. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.” She slid the key to their room across the counter. “But I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

“But—” Bobby opened his mouth to argue, not even sure what he was going to say to her or how it would change anything. Athena set a hand gently on his arm and shook her head.

“It’ll be fine,” Athena assured him.

Bobby pressed his lips together, taking the key and thanking Mary for her help. It was going to be bad enough sleeping in the same room with Athena, but having to share the bed with her for the night? He might actually combust.

Bobby seemed to be lost in thought the entire ride up in the elevator, and Athena hadn’t said anything to break the silence between them. When the door closed behind them, he turned to look at the bed, staring at it in silence.

Athena turned to him curiously. “Bobby?”

His name being spoken was enough to pull him out of his thoughts and he turned his attention to Athena.

“You take the bed,” he said.

“And where are you going to sleep?” Athena cocked her head to the side as she studied Bobby, who was glancing around the small space.

“I’ll sleep on the chair.”

“The chair that looks like it’s about as comfortable as a folding chair? You’re going to sleep on an upholstered folding chair instead of the bed?”

“I appreciate that you’ve flown all the way out here with me, gone way above and beyond the call of friendship. I cannot ask you to share a bed with me.”

“Friends help each other out,” Athena promised. “And I’d wager that you’d do the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

Athena wanted to share a bed with Bobby though preferably under different circumstances, in a situation where they weren’t just pretending for the benefit of other people to be together. Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of him unable to sleep and waking up with a kink in his neck because he was trying to be chivalrous.

“Truly, the chair looks—” Bobby’s voice cut off for a second as he glanced at the offending object, “—comfortable.” He crossed the room and set his luggage beside it.

“That’s a lie.”

“I’m gonna go out and grab your bags from the car,” Bobby said, purposely evading the subject. He left Athena alone in the room a minute later, and she zipped open her suitcase. Then she pulled out her pajamas and the glass jars so she could do her skin care regimen before they went to bed. Or, in Bobby’s case, before chair.

She took out her phone, dialing the number that she knew by heart.

“Athena,” she heard Michael’s voice in her ear on the second ring, “how was the flight?”

“It was fine.” Athena grabbed the jars of cleanser and cream from where she’d set them on the bed, walking into the bathroom with the phone cradled against her cheek. “But it’s snowing now.”

Michael’s laugh rumbled in her ear. “You do realize you’re in Minnesota?”

“Of course I realize where I am.”

“In February?” Athena rolled her eyes before she walked back to the room, getting her clothes for the night before she slipped back into the bathroom.

“How’s Bobby?”

“He’s fine.”

Silence fell between them for a few minutes as she began to get ready for bed, that way she wouldn’t be in Bobby’s way when he returned.

“You just traveled 2000 miles with this friend for a ‘fake’ date,” Michael finally said, breaking the silence between them, and it sounded as though he’d been trying all along not to speak the words.

“Yes,” Athena drew the word out slowly, not even wanting to dissect what his tone meant.

“Does Bobby know this?”

“Michael,” Athena said impatiently, almost regretting that she’d told him the truth behind why she was traveling to Minnesota in the first place. “Of course he knows.”

“Better yet, do you know that or think you’d be there if any of it was fake?”

Athena looked at her reflection in the mirror, Michael’s words settling heavily in her chest. If she was being honest with anyone about how she really felt, she knew what the answer to that question was. As it was, Bobby hadn’t been in a relationship since he’d lost his wife, and while he had mentioned maybe putting himself back out there and making a dating profile, he hadn’t yet. Which told Athena that he wasn’t ready yet.

She wasn’t about to chase after a man who didn’t want to be chased. Besides, Athena Grant wasn’t the type of woman to do the chasing to begin with. Sure, she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to seek it out, but she was also the kind of woman who deserved to be pursued just as much.

She sure as hell wasn’t about to tell her ex-husband all of that, regardless of how close they were.

“Are the kids around?” she asked instead.

Michael laughed on the other end of the line again. “Harry’s been waiting to talk to you. Let me get him.”

His laughter continued to ring out in her ears and she couldn’t stop the way that her mind continued to wrap around his words, playing them over in her mind. They were there as friends. She was there to help him through the weekend and that was it.

Regardless of her feelings.

Bobby barely slept. He had told Athena the chair looked comfortable the night before, which they’d both known wasn’t true. It was probably the most uncomfortable thing that he’d rested on in his entire adult life. He guessed that twenty years ago he wouldn’t have woken up feeling quite like he was 87 after trying to sleep that way, but sadly that wasn’t the case this morning.

Bobby hissed at the pain that echoed through his lower back, pushing himself up out of the chair. He had waited as long as he could, and hoped he was quiet enough not to wake Athena.

“Maybe if you hadn’t refused to sleep in the bed you wouldn’t be hobbling around like a fool.”

Well, there went that idea.

“Morning, Athena,” Bobby said, crossing the room to switch on the Keurig since she was awake as well.

“Morning, Bobby.”

Bobby waited for the coffee maker to warm up before brewing a couple cups of coffee for the two of them. Though it was a small space, it at least came with a coffee maker and when Bobby went away he was always prepared with coffee and creamer. He walked Athena’s coffee over to her as she sat up in bed and cradled the cup, a sleepy look on her face. He swallowed, trying not to focus on how badly he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight regularly. The cup in his hands nearly slipped at the thought, so instead he brought it to his lips, deciding it was probably best to put some space between the two of them.

He walked over to the window, gently tugging the curtains open. It was impossible to see more than a few feet, the snow coming down steadily and the wind whipping outside. “Doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere this morning.”

Athena sipped at her coffee, then slid out from beneath the covers, joining Bobby in front of the window. She looked outside, wide-eyed.

“I’ve never seen snow like this,” Athena said.

“Consider it the VIP treatment.” Bobby looked down at her and smiled. He knew that she was probably hating this weather, especially since she was born and raised somewhere warm.

“Mmmh,” Athena hummed beside him. “Not sure this is exactly what I think of when I hear ‘VIP treatment’.”

“Fair enough.” Bobby chuckled, took a few more sips of his coffee, and then crossed the room to set his mug on the nightstand. “So since we can’t drive anywhere, what if we get showered and ready for the day and see if we can get in at the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast? It’s nothing fancy… but we’re going to need to eat.”

Athena agreed and a short while later they were showered and dressed, heading downstairs to the restaurant. It looked like they weren’t the only ones with that idea either, the dining room was already full and it wasn’t even 9.

“So I guess we’re going to be waiting,” Bobby concluded as he scanned over the restaurant, sending an apologetic smile in her direction.

“It’s fine, it’s not like there’s anywhere we could go even if we wanted to.” Athena sighed softly as they checked in to wait for a table.

“Bobby?” His attention shifted at the sound of his name.

“Joe?” Bobby was back in Minnesota, so it wasn’t exactly surprising that he would run into people that he knew—especially old friends and acquaintances that were also there to attend the wedding. Still, it felt a bit upending as they were waiting to be seated for breakfast.

“It’s good to see you, man. You’re looking good.” They shook hands and Joe clapped Bobby on the arm. “And who is this?”

Joe’s gaze shifted over to Athena and Bobby blamed the fact that he was still trying to stabilize himself that he’d forgotten to introduce her. Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but found that he didn’t need to.

“I’m Athena,” she said, sliding her hands casually around Bobby’s arm as she moved further into his space. “Bobby’s girlfriend.”

“O-oh—” Joe stammered for a moment. “I hadn’t realized…”

Bobby swallowed, feeling anxiety swirl in his stomach, trying to let the way Athena gently squeezed his bicep calm him. “Hadn’t realized what?” she pressed.

Joe’s mouth snapped shut, glancing between the two of them before offering an awkward smile. “I just hadn’t realized he was bringing a plus one.”

Athena made a sound of disbelief beside him.

“Joe, party of four,” the hostess called.

“It’s been really nice seeing you, Bobby,” Joe said after a minute, then turned his attention to Athena. “And meeting you, Athena. Hopefully we get the chance to catch up at the wedding if all of this clears up enough.” He motioned towards the window, where the snow continued to fall.

Once Joe had left, Bobby turned to Athena and looked down at where she still grasped his arm. “You didn’t have to do that,” Bobby said quietly.

Athena’s gaze turned away from Bobby momentarily, glancing over to Joe’s table, and her hands dropped from around Bobby’s arm, taking his hand and threading her fingers through his.

“I told you before, I’ve got your back for this trip. I meant it,” she said.

When their eyes met again, Athena was frowning and Bobby shook his head, realizing how that must have come across.

“I didn’t mean it like I didn’t believe you. I know you meant it. I guess I really expected it to be a wedding-only kind of a deal.”

“Well it’s not.” The silence that fell over them cued the end of the conversation, just as they were called to be seated.

Bobby sighed, Athena’s hand still in his despite her annoyance, hoping that he’d somehow be able to make it through breakfast without sounding like more of an ass.

With how things had gone so far this morning, Bobby knew that was pretty unlikely.

There wasn’t much that they could do after breakfast, so they headed back up to their hotel room. Bobby’s eyes had been burning, since he was so exhausted from his lack of sleep the night before. He sat down in the chair, tiredly scrubbing his hands down over his face.

He’d considered a nap, but that still felt like he was invading Athena’s space on the bed and the probability of him falling asleep in the same uncomfortable chair was unlikely.

He smelled the coffee Athena was brewing from his seat and he sat back, dropping his hands away from his face.

“You know,” Athena said as she crossed the room, stopping in front of him with a cup of coffee in her hands. “You wouldn’t be so tired if you’d have slept in the bed.”

Bobby didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with an expression that told her he wasn’t impressed with the topic.

“Here.” Athena held out the cup of coffee to him. “Figured you’d need a cup too.”

Bobby took the offered cup from here, trying not to get caught up in the way that their fingers brushed, and how it made his heart race. He felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. Athena stepped away, walking back to the coffee maker to get her own cup.

Bobby pulled himself out of the chair, walking over to the window where the wind continued to whip, which made it hard to really tell how quickly the snowfall was actually coming down. Athena stood beside him, looking at the storm outside.

“So you missed this?”

“Not blizzards exactly.” Bobby brought the cup to his lips, taking a few small sips before turning his attention to her. “But winter in general? It’s nice to have more definite seasons.”

“What is the draw of being cold all the damn time?”

“It’s not all the time and it’s hard to explain,” Bobby paused. “I feel like it’s one of those things that you have to experience to truly understand.”

“Aren’t we experiencing it now?” Athena asked, exasperation clear in her voice.

“Holed up in a hotel room?” Bobby laughed and shook his head a little, met with a disapproving look from Athena. “We’re not experiencing anything but a view from up here.”

“You want to go out? In a blizzard?”

“I don’t think…” Bobby’s voice trailed off as the lights around them, along with the television running in the background, cut off, filling the room with a weighted silence.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The next few hours leading up to bedtime were quiet, aside from a complaint here or there. It hadn’t taken long for the chill in the room to become obvious, with the subzero temperatures outside only lending to the danger caused by the storm.

Bobby adjusted the blanket in his lap, sitting in the chair, the coolness from the floor creeping through his socks, making him feel chilled. Athena had just finished calling her family on the phone, and she turned her attention to him.

“Do not tell me that you plan to sleep—or not sleep—there again tonight,” she said dryly.

Bobby hesitated for a second, looking at Athena across the dimly lit room. “I’m not. I’m gonna try the floor.”

Athena took a breath, and it sounded a lot like she was saying a prayer. “Can you come over here so I can actually see you while we talk?” Bobby hesitated before slipping the blanket off his lap, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“There isn’t really much to talk about.”

“Stop being ridiculous. We’re adults. We can sleep in the same bed and the world isn’t going to end.” Athena said it like it was obvious and the only truth, but there was that little voice that rang out in the back of Bobby’s mind telling him that the world just might end if they shared the bed tonight.

Bobby didn’t say anything right away, not sure how the hell he could explain it to Athena without fully spelling out the problem to her. Sitting on her bed just as she was attempting to unwind and go to sleep didn’t seem like the right time or place to have that kind of conversation.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is?” Athena’s voice cut through his thoughts. Bobby sighed heavily, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“I don’t want to… cross any lines,” Bobby explained. It was already too much that Athena had volunteered to travel clear across the country with him, then attend a wedding under the guise of his girlfriend, all in the name of being a good friend.

“If you don’t get under these covers to start getting warm in the next ten seconds I’m going to cross a line to smack you upside the head. For being impossible.”

Bobby snapped his mouth shut at her tone, deciding it was best not to argue with her about it anymore. It was clear that she’d already made up her mind and he knew that convincing Athena to do something other than what she’d already chosen to do was an impossibility.

He got up from the bed, blowing out the couple of candles that they’d been able to scrounge up. Silently, he walked back to the bed, pulling back the comforter and sheet before climbing in.

“Finally,” Athena said as she scooted down further beneath the covers, shifting onto her side. “Now we can both get some sleep.”

Bobby was definitely more comfortable than the night before, surrounded by the blanket and the comfortable mattress below, but the only thing that he could focus on was the warmth of Athena’s body next to his.

Bobby doubted that he’d get any more sleep than he did the previous night, thinking about how Athena was just a short reach away.

“Night, Bobby,” she whispered into the dark.

Bobby’s eyes fluttered closed, swallowing against the sudden thickness in his throat. “Goodnight, Athena.”

Once he was able to stop his mind from racing, Bobby was finally able to get some sleep. However, waking up to Athena sleeping in the bed beside him was more than he was prepared for. His heart thudded inside his chest and he tried not to dwell on the times that he’d pictured what these quiet, soft moments with Athena would be like.

Bobby breathed out quietly, almost afraid to do so too loudly and wake her. He lay there for a few more moments before he turned his attention away from her, feeling like he was intruding in her personal space. Even after he’d turned away from her he couldn’t ease the aching that filled his chest.

Bobby had turned off his phone early the day before, shortly after they’d lost power, in an effort to conserve his battery. He turned his phone on and once everything had loaded, he wasn’t entirely surprised to see a text from Jay, letting him know they unfortunately had to postpone the wedding. The bride’s parents, along with her maid of honor, were all stranded elsewhere, unable to make it due to the weather they were experiencing.

Sitting up in bed quietly, Bobby swung his legs over the side, staying in that position for a minute.

“Morning.” Bobby heard Athena’s voice behind him. He shifted and turned to face her, seeing that she was not sitting up beside him.

“Good Morning,” Bobby said softly, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “So, I have some news. Jay had to reschedule the wedding because of the weather—the bride’s parents and maid of honor are stranded a thousand miles away.”

“Oh.” Athena nodded her head a little. “Well, it’s better that they’re safe, and who knows when power will even be restored.”

Bobby climbed out of the bed, pulling back the curtains so they could see outside. The weather was still, the wind no longer whipping as it had been for the last day. “Well, there is a lot of snow, but it should start settling down now that they’re actually able to clear things.”

The bed creaked behind Bobby as Athena climbed off of it, crossing the room to join him. There was a certain domesticity to being here with Athena and he yearned to have her slide her arms around him, pulling him close in the quiet of the morning. Bobby tried to mentally shake the thought from his mind.

“It is pretty,” Athena said. “From in here, anyway.”

“It’s even prettier out there,” Bobby commented, feeling as though there wasn’t much out there that could compete with [the simple beauty of the snow]. Even so, Bobby knew that he couldn’t suggest it at this point, not with the frigid temperatures inside their hotel room.

There was a knock on the door and Bobby looked at Athena before he shrugged his shoulders. It was someone from the hotel, letting them know that the power should be back within the hour, and dropping off what they referred to as ‘breakfast bags’. Bobby thanked the woman on the other side of the door, then rejoined Athena.

They consumed the contents of the bags and when the power finally turned back on, they took turns in the shower before getting geared up. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

“Because there’s nowhere to go until they clear the roads. May as well take advantage of all of the snow.”

“I’m sweating,” Athena complained, which was an unfamiliar tone for her as she pulled at the collar of her coat, along with the scarf that Bobby had convinced her to wear.

“You’re from Florida, I’m sure you’re used to that.” Bobby smirked as he pulled open the front door of the lobby, letting Athena step outside first, the coldness swirling into the lobby.

Athena was quiet once they stepped outside, and surprisingly she didn’t start on her string of complaints about the terrible weather in Minnesota, though he was sure that could be coming before too long. It was obvious that she was less than excited about the chilly temperatures, but hopefully all of the snow gear that he’d purchased for her when they first arrived would help her feel comfortable.

“Okay, so I’ve seen the snow up close.” Athena turned to him, and Bobby couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her, her small frame being practically swallowed by all of the gear. “Can we go back inside now?”

Bobby shook his head. “No.”

“Then what are we supposed to do out here?”

“There’s a lot to do,” Bobby said, thinking about all of his favorite snow activities. He’d love to take her ice skating, but that wasn’t something that they could do here. “A snowball fight, building a snowman or a fort, snow angels. We could just go through the list, which means starting with the snowball fight.”

“Do you actually think I’m going to let you throw a snowball at my head?”

“At your head?” Bobby asked with a startled laugh. “Do you think I have a death wish?”

Athena stopped, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at Bobby. “Well you did insist on dragging me out here and into the snow. So you might have a death wish,” Athena reasoned.

“It would just be wrong to waste a perfectly good snow day.”

“A snow day?”

Bobby smiled as Athena seemed to weigh the words for a moment. “Yeah, a snow day. You’re stuck at home, can’t go to school… so you go out and play in the snow. Can’t really call this weekend complete until you’ve experienced your first snow day.”

“Fine,” Athena agreed hesitantly. “But if you throw anything at me you’re a dead man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Bobby led Athena a little farther away so that they could still see the hotel clear enough, but so there was enough distance between them and the parking lot for when the plows did eventually make their way out.

“Lay down.” Athena cut her gaze up to his. Her reaction to literally everything since they’d come outside had been enough to force him into a fit of laughter. Athena stood there with an unamused expression still on her face and she remained still. Bobby shook his head then, realizing that if he was going to get her to go along with any of this he was going to have to go first.

“I know you haven’t had much sleep the last couple of days. But laying down to take a nap in the snow seems a little desperate, don’t you think?”

“Come on, Athena,” Bobby said, smiling up at her. “Lay down next to me.”

“Bobby.” He didn’t give her the chance to argue with him again, sitting up and grabbing hold of her hands, gently tugging her down into the snow with him. “Bobby!” she shrieked as fell forward, and he braced himself to catch her as she landed in the snow beside him.

Bobby shifted on his side, looking over at her beside him in the snow, noticing that she looked absolutely perfect with the brilliant white glistening around her. Athena’s beauty always took Bobby’s breath away, but it was different now with her guard down, and Bobby wished for the opportunity to see this side of her more.

“You fool!” She made a loose snowball before throwing it at him, pulling Bobby from his thoughts as he laughed.

“You were going to stand up there with your arms crossed all day if I didn’t do something.”

Athena huffed out a breath beside him before turning her attention to him. “So what was so important that I had to literally get pulled into the snow?”

“Snow angels.” Bobby didn’t explain any more, but began to make an angel beside Athena as he fanned out his arms and legs, watching Athena out of the corner of his eye as she stopped sulking beside him and began to mirror the motion.

“This seems so childish,” Athena muttered. She finally stopped the motion of creating the snow angel and lifted her head to look over at Bobby, holding her weight up on her elbows and squinting as the sun began to peek out, shimmering off of the seemingly endless snow.

He shrugged his shoulders, trying not to get too lost in observing Athena, the angel wings fading into the snow behind her only accentuating her natural beauty, and reminding him of the simplicity of the moment. The kind of moment that he’d probably never be able to have with her again.

Minnesota Athena let down those reinforced walls and Bobby didn’t have to try so hard to climb over or around them.

“That’s kind of the point,” Bobby said softly, watching as Athena’s breath puffed past her lips in the cold, but after a couple of seconds he still couldn’t tear his eyes away. Maybe it was the pretending to be a couple, sharing a room, sharing a bed; but he felt like the lines between what they were pretending to be and what they actually were became more blurred with each passing moment.

He glanced from Athena’s lips up to her eyes, and his gaze settled there for a long time, not willing to tear his eyes away and break whatever this feeling was that was building in the air between them. In that instant the realization hit that this thing that he had been feeling likely wasn’t one-sided, and continuing to ignore it affected her too.

“Bobby, what are—” Before Athena had the chance to finish her sentence, Bobby closed in the last bit of space between them, the snow crunching below as he shifted. His lips closed over hers without hesitation, with a confidence that didn’t let on how he’d been struggling with his feelings for Athena for a couple of months now.

Bobby cupped her cheek with a gloved hand, resting against the hat that Athena wore. Her lips were soft against his but just like everything else in her life, she demanded control, shifting so that Bobby was eased onto his back. Athena dropped her hand to rest against his chest, her mouth brushing against his delicately.

She pulled away a moment later, looking down into his eyes. “Is this part of the whole snow day experience?”

“Only if it’s with you,” Bobby said.

“Well,” she began, running a gloved thumb over Bobby’s cheek, “your nose is cold.”

“We can go in if you want,” Bobby told her, trying not to think about all of the things that he could do with Athena in the hotel room now that they’d somehow crossed this invisible line.

She stood up and held a hand out to him silently, helping him to get to his feet. Bobby led the way as they began the walk back towards the hotel, surprised by a sudden thwack against his back. He stilled, pivoting where he stood to see Athena packing another snow ball.

“Oh, this is war.” Bobby grinned as he bent down to grab some snow in his hands and he heard the sound of Athena’s laughter as she tried to run away, unable to remember a time when his heart had felt so full.

They only had one more night before they needed to head back to LA. Athena had showered after the rest of their snow day fun, and she couldn’t remember the last time that she’d felt so—carefree.

Athena grabbed the last of her things from the bathroom before she walked back out into the room that she shared with Bobby. She stopped abruptly halfway to the bed, eyes landing on the rollaway had appeared while she’d been showering.

“Bobby?” Athena separated out her dirty clothes and before she heard the sound of their hotel room door opening and closing.

“I was able to get one of the rollaways, since they cleared the roads and finally able to start checking people out,” Bobby explained.

“You were… able to get a rollaway,” Athena repeated.

“Yeah,” Bobby said. “It’s all made up.”

Athena sat down on the bed with a small laugh. “Can you explain to me what the rollaway is for?”

“To sleep.” Bobby said the words carefully. Athena pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and then turned her attention back to him more fully.

“You slept in the bed last night,” Athena reminded him. “Add to that the fact that you kissed me earlier today and I’m pretty sure you’ll come to the same conclusion as me.”

“Which is?”

“We’re not gonna need a rollaway, Bobby.”

Understanding dawned on Bobby and he nodded his head, stepping around the rollaway and instead climbing into the bed beside Athena. She smiled at him, soft and amused.

“This is gonna take some getting used,” Bobby chuckled.

“And we’re going to enjoy every second of that.” Athena murmured, pecking Bobby’s lips. She’d come here with Bobby as a friend, to help him out with something that he’d been struggling with. She’d never imagine that in a matter of a few days that things could change so drastically between them. It wasn’t something that she had been able to predict happening.

Athena sighed softly, resting her head against Bobby’s chest as his fingers danced soothingly over her back. She could get used to this casual intimacy that they were beginning to discover together. She wanted to spend the next sixteen hours that they had in this place together like this.

#911 #911 on fox #911firstkiss #911 first kiss week #first kiss #fake relationship #snowed in #mutual pining #friends to lovers #all the tropes #bobby nash #athena grant #bathena

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nakedmossy · 4 years

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Depth Over Distance - Part One [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

The sky was grey and the air was wet - it had been raining for 4 days straight. You sat in your car with the heat cranked, your window down slightly so that the humidity didn’t fog up your mirrors. Living on the Alaskan coast was beautiful most of the time but horrible some of the time, especially when you had to waste gas just keeping warm and dry at 6pm in the beginning of ‘Summer’.

You had never lived anywhere else aside from the summer you spent in Vancouver with your cousin when you were 19. Now, at 23, you were working full time at the local bookshop that was an 8 minute drive from your house in the winter and a 20 minute walk/skate in the summer. Your car was parked street side, waiting for your friend Lizzy to finish her shift at the cafe. The smell of the rain and the Ben Howard song on the radio made you nostalgic about the times you and your friends from high school had spent hours skating down these streets, beers in your backpacks, no helmets, dirty shoes and clothes, no pressure, no responsibilities, no cell service...no worries.

Since graduation a lot of your friends had moved out of town, either to Anchorage or down to Washington, or further south. Your best friend Lizzy had stayed close to home, helping run her families business and working part time at the cafe. You had stayed local too...your dad owned a fishing guide business and your mom was an admin assistant for the MD in town, but neither made enough to cover all the medical bills you had racked up over the last few years. You figured once the debt was paid off you might leave...but you had no idea where you would go.

You missed all of your friends, but you missed the boys the most, aside from Lizzy you didn't have a lot of female friends, and your boys had been like brothers to you. You spoke to most of them every few weeks on FaceTime, except Rudy. He had gone to LA for awhile and had kept in touch loosely, but after the first few months he started to drift.

You felt the loss the hardest for Rudy. He had been your closest friend the longest, you had spent nearly every day of every summer together since you were 9, and every school year you worked the same part time job at the seafood restaurant on the water. Now, the last you heard, he was coming back for the summer to ‘reconnect’. You had low expectations and tried not to let yourself get excited, but truthfully, you wanted him to spend some time at home and be around his own kind again - he had always been a homebody and you were worried that being gone for 4 years would go to his head or change him.

Lizzy tapped on the glass, causing you to blink out of your reverie and smile at her. You rolled the window down and let her reach in and open the door from the inside (the handle had been broken since high school). She threw her backpack and skateboard in the back seat, climbing in and closing her door.

“Ugh.” She grunted as her teeth chattered and she rubbed her bare legs.

“You know its only May, you shouldn’t even be wearing shorts yet. The snow just melted.”

Lizzy glared at you playfully and put her hand out to do your handshake. You did it, then put the car in drive and started slowly down the street, windshield wipers moving rhythmically.

“How was the shift?” You asked as you checked your mirrors and wiped some humidity off the rear view.

“Same old” Lizzy leaned back in her seat and pulled the visor mirror down to fix her hair. “That old man Collins from the cannery keeps coming in and harassing me.”

“Jack? The one with the eye patch?”

Lizzy nodded dramatically as she held the bobby pins in her mouth and started to twist her straight black hair off her face.

“That guy-“ She finished placing the final pin and slammed the visor closed “-Is an absolute creep.”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He’s like...70. And widowed. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Im just...asserting my boundaries.”

“You literally have a 3 foot counter between you at minimum, at all times.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is we need hotter men in this town. Like...soon.”

You nodded in agreement and felt your eyes wander all over the road, remembering the time you and Rudy had taken your longboards down it after a torrential downpour and you had crashed and gotten such bad road burn that he had to call his dad to come pick you both up because you couldn’t walk.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening?” Lizzy cut back in, staring at you.

“No, what?”

“I said, speaking of hot guys, I heard Rudy is coming back for a few months.”

You pinched your face and looked at her then at the road, then back at her.

“Rudy is not hot. Rudy is....Rudy. What are you talking about?”

Lizzy looked at you disbelieving and closed her mouth, trying not to smile.

“What!” You repeated, smacking her arm.

“Hey!” She laughed, then shook her head and looked out the window. “Whatever you say man, I just think....” She grabbed her water bottle and began to screw off the lid “I just think...he’s not gonna be the same Rudy that left 4 years ago. He’s like...a movie star now.”

You couldn’t even begin to touch that one. You knew what she was doing...she was always harping on you about going on dates or taking trips with her to the mainland to hook up with the pilots during their layovers. You never went, and always insisted that you were just fine and were not interested. She never listened. Part of that was true...you were fine, and usually not interested. But sometimes, when the water was calm and the sunset was colourful and the fish were jumping and your beer was cold...you wished you had someone to share it with.

“I’m going up to Skagway this weekend with my dad” You said, changing subjects. “He’s short a guide and needs someone to drive the boat.”

“Lucky you” She said sarcastically, screwing the lid back on her bottle. “Another weekend spent with men twice your age who have zero ability to catch a fish and even less ability to smell nice.”

“It’s good money.” You said flatly, annoyed that everything seemed to revolve around men with her. “And in case you forgot I’m kinda in need of that at the moment.”

Lizzy licked her lips and put her hands up, dipping her head.

“Alright...noted. Chill out Kemosabe.” She giggled under her breath and looked out her window, drawing a small penis in the moisture on the window.

“Babe, seriously. You need to get laid.” You said, shaking your head.

“I know” She replied, working on the veins. “Trust me. Im in a state of national emergency by this time of year.”

Lizzy was absolutely one of the girliest girls (and most beautiful girls) in the south of Alaska, which was ironic considering the house she grew up in. Her dad was an overweight German restaurant entrepreneur who had opened a world class seafood restaurant in Juneau back in the 90s and had shacked up with her mother who was this drop dead gorgeous Haida warrior woman who you had literally seen kill and skin a bear with her own hands.

They had forged this chain of restaurants local to Alaska that people flew hundreds of miles to eat at, but still lived in an off-grid cabin that hadn’t been insulated since 1960 and used wood heating. Not really the type of family that screamed southern belle femininity - yet somehow Lizzy came out of that union with a pink bed set, refusing to ever wear camo or sweatpants, and still had never shot a gun - which her mother reminded her of weekly.

Lizzy had hit puberty at 10 and had used her breast advantage over every girl in your class for the next 3 years like some sort of distinction of better genetics, as if she needed boobs to prove that. Unlike you, she was naturally thin and tall (6ft to be precise), had long, thick straight black hair and olive skin, and perfect hips. You felt like a prepubescent boy standing next to her, with your uneven complexion and your frizz and your awkward thigh fat distribution. You were envious of her genetics - her mother graced her with the body of an athlete and the thick black hair, and her father had given her height and cheekbones that could slice through glass. You looked down at your arms, covered in freckles, pasty white from lack of sun, and cringed, looking back at the road.

You turned the corner leaving the main road and starting on the dirt road that led to your favourite part of beach access. Lizzy pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and took off her seatbelt, leaning forward to pull it down over her head. You leaned forward and looked up, this was your favourite part of the drive. The dirt road which was lined with moss and ferns and other foliage wound along the base of the snow capped mountain that was at least 1000ft in elevation. The mist and fog from the coast was thick and creeped through the tall cedar trees, black ravens and falcons flying overhead stark against the white mist. This was the most idyllic picture of northwest coastal living you could find.

When you parked at the trail head Lizzy slipped off her work flats and into her Teva’s, you grabbed your yellow Vans out of your trunk and slipped them on. You usually drove bare foot, a habit you had started in high school after Rudy had thrown your shoes off the dock at the restaurant and you had to drive home without any. You grabbed your sweater and your backpack which had the beer in it. As you were both gathering the rest of your things...beach blanket, hats, and rain cover, you heard a car pull up behind you. You stood up out of the trunk and squinted to see the car through the fog. It was a black ford pickup you had never seen before.

“Who’s that?” Lizzy chimed in from behind you.

“No clue” You said as you lifted your hand to wave once.

The truck had tinted windows and looked brand new. When it pulled up beside you, the drivers side window began to unroll, revealing Junior - your high school (ex) sweetheart.

“Holy” You said, eyebrows up, nodding. “Nice truck - where’d you steal it from?” He rolled his eyes at you dramatically.

“Whatever kid - its a rental. Got it to drive to the airport in.” His chest puffed out and his expression read so proud.

“Airport?” You said inquisitively. “Since when does Alan pay you to drive new trucks to the airport?”

“Since Rudy hired him for the pick up service and apparently is incapable of driving his own ass around anymore” Junior snorted and waved at Lizzy.

“Or he doesn’t have a car here anymore” You noted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Either way, I get this bad boy for the next 24 hours and I intend to give her the royal grand tour of our humble town.” He ran his hand up and down the steering wheel, stroking the new leather. “Wanna go for a rip?” He said, winking. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well I do” Lizzy piped up from beside you, walking closer to the window. She smiled at Junior and began to put her hair in a pony tail. She nudged your arm as she began to walk to the passenger side door. “Come on, granny. Let’s go!”

She laughed as she climbed up into the truck, but you shook your head again.

“I’m good...you kids have fun. Say hi to Rudy for me” You said to Junior, who shrugged his head and muttered ‘definitely wont do that’ under his breath.

Lizzy blew a kiss at you and waved once before Junior put it in drive and started to go up the dirt road north of you.

Junior and you had ended on okay terms, but he had concocted a theory that you had broken up with him because of another guy, and the unspoken suggestion was that that guy had been Rudy. Small town guys had a heck of a time with the idea of girls and guys just being friends.

You sighed and watched as the truck disappeared around the corner, and turned back to your own car. You grabbed your backpack and slammed the trunk closed, walking down the path alone. You weren’t mad at Lizzy for going with him - she was flighty and bailed on you at the bar all the time - but you were mad the beer was going to go warm before you could drink it all. Not that you should even be drinking 6 beers alone by the water when you had to drive yourself home. Doubtful the 2 cops in this town would even be awake to see you though. Whatever.

You reached the end of the path and rounded the corner, revealing the coast line and the rocky beach. It was your favourite place to sit and think, sit and smoke, sit and be yourself. The beach curled in a U shape, giving you a private spot where the rest of the shoreline was blocked from view and all you could see was the ominous cedar forest that stretched up the mountain, the snow caps at the top, and the horizon over the cold pacific.

You had intended to share the joint you had in your pocket with Lizzie, but...well, her loss. You spread the blanket out on the softest patch of sand and rocks you could find (which still meant you were guaranteed to get at least 2 rocks in the ass) and placed your bag down, kicking off your sneakers. You took a deep breath for the first time in a few days and lit the joint, taking one long, deep inhale. You felt it tingle through your chest and your arms and legs almost immediately, relaxing you. Being here alone always sent you into a spiral of memories and thoughts that you worked hard during the day to suppress. Most insistent lately had been thoughts about your health problems. You called them ‘health problems’ but in reality it was just an eating disorder. You could go 2, sometimes 3 days without eating anything, and never felt hungry. It started after graduation.

You had lost weight, dramatically, going from a stable 120-125 to 95 at most and 90 at worst, in the span of a month. And for the next three years you had never gained it back, you had stayed at a relatively stable 95, which still left you looking sickly and too thin at 5’3”. Your frame wasn’t built for that kind of weight drop, you were Scottish and Cree, sprinkled with a little bit of German and Irish. A classic northwest cracker mix. You weren’t naturally small, you always had a bit of something to grab onto, but it was normal to your body, healthy.

Some part of your brain knew that it had something to do with leaving school...and the pretence that came with that. The expectation...the responsibility. You were never that kind of person, and it never really bothered you, but suddenly it had. You never planned to go to University right away, but you had no back up plan. It wasn't something you and your friends really talked about. But suddenly Jacob had gotten into U of Washington, Dan had left to backpack Europe, and Rudy had not so graciously announced he was deferring his acceptance and scholarship to culinary school because he wanted to be an actor, and flew to LA the next month. You had been left behind, with Lizzy of all people, and it had hit you hard.

You looked around the beach, dragging on your joint quicker than normal, trying to knock the thoughts out of your head. An Eagle screeched above - scaring you - and you laid back on the blanket, closing your eyes. You needed to chill the hell out. This was the first time in a few weeks that you had gotten a night off from helping your dad with his guide business and you didn’t plan on wasting it riddling your brain with anxiety and worrying about your body.

You looked up at the sky and watched the mist and fog kiss the clouds, the sunset colours dancing across them. As it usually did, the rain had stopped just as the sun was going down, the clouds parting briefly and letting the smallest sliver of sunlight through, just enough to burn the grey light out of the sky and allow the pink and orange hues to fade along the horizon. You sat up and cracked a beer, enjoying the fresh smelling air and the rhythmic sound of the waves licking the shore line.

Two beers in you had put on your jacket and placed your Bluetooth speaker next to you on the blanket, blasting a playlist that Rudy had made you for your graduation party.

Three beers in you took the jacket off, standing up and dancing by yourself on the beach to the music.

Four beers in you laid down on the blanket, balled your jacket up and used it as a pillow, and started looking for shapes in the stars.

Five beers in you fell sleep.

———

Many hours later, as the sun rose and was bright on the water and the early morning bird feed was in full swing overhead, you were drifting in and out of sleep to the squawking when a shadow came across your face, alerting you to groggily open your eyes.

“What’s up, Little Fern?” His voice had gotten deeper. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and blinked, raising a hand to block the sun. There, in your very awake and very not dreaming state, was the unmistakable silhouette that you had spent the last 18 years dreaming about and 18 years being a friend to.

Rudy.

#rudy pankow #reader x rudy #depth over distance #nakedmossywrites #jj maybank #outer banks #obx

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pearsabeth · 4 years

Text

The Folks - A Percabeth fic

"Annabeth, don't try to act like this is my fault"

Percy's amused tone earned him a glare from his girlfriend. They were waiting in the warm car, anticipating the cold air they would be met with outside and the reaction of the Chase family if they were to notice the red bruise adorning the side of Percy's neck.

"Of course it is, I could've planned all this if you hadn't been so..." Annabeth's eyes flickered as she recalled the making of the hickey that has decided to plague her life.

It was the mischief in his eyes taunting her to remove that trouble maker smirk playing on his swollen lips. Before she knew it her teeth were on his neck and all sense had disappeared. She hadn't thought about the scheduled dinner at her parents. She wasn't thinking at all.

"You know you can't just wait in the car and glare at the house until it disappears" Percy's voice comes from the driver's seat.

"I can try," she sighed.

Knowing perfectly well she had to go in soon and face Bobby and Matthew and their fascinating incapability of minding their business , Helen who's judgemental stare could burn a hole through the dark grey woollen scarf wrapped around Percy's neck and tucked under his thick winter coat and her Dad who would interrogate them until the truth came out.

"You'll be fine Wisegirl, nothing's gonna happen and if anything does we'll just play it cool. We're grown." Percy suggested, hands landing on her thigh to try and comfort her.

She faced him with an anxiety-stricken expression he hadn't been expecting. His eyebrows raised in realisation. There was always more to it when it came to Annabeth.

"They already hate me enough. I bet Helen's in there preparing a list of ways to criticize my life. As if bringing home a boy isn't enough, it just had to be a bruised necked pretty boy who doesn't study law at Harvard."

"I guess we don't care about my self-esteem today, huh," Percy feigned offence.

"C'mon Annabeth, we're gonna be late. You've got this. Besides, I'll be on my best behaviour," He couldn't help the lopsided grin that emerged on his face as he said it.

When it didn't look like she was getting up anytime soon, Percy got out of the car and practically dragged her out and onto the sheet of snow that had begun to cover the driveway. When they got to the porch, Annabeth fixed his thick scarf once more to cover the hickey and rang the doorbell hesitantly.

Percy attempted to offer his support by holding her hand and giving it a squeeze only for Annabeth to snap her hand out as she heard footsteps walking towards the door.

"You're crazy," Percy murmurs as he opted for the small of her back.

The door opened to reveal Annabeth's stepmother, wearing a clean apron over her clothes. Before the couple could exchange greetings with the woman, the sound of slapping feet against the wooden floors was followed by the eager faces of Annabeth's twin brothers, Bobby and Matthew.

"Annabeth, did you get the stuff?" Bobby said his eyebrows disappearing under the brown coils against his forehead.

Matthew, presumably the mature one of the two rolled his brown eyes, showing the little resemblance he and his brother shared with Annabeth. For the most part, the twins resembled their Filipina mother more so than their father and it showed in their soft eyes and thick dark hair. But they couldn't escape the splatter of freckles on their nose that seemed to be Chase family staple.

"You bet I got the stuff, help Helen set up and then we can do business," Annabeth said as she made her way towards the living room, Percy following her lead awkwardly.

Matthew looked at his brother smugly, " I told you it was too good to be true."

Before sulking off to the kitchen, the boys set aside their negotiation and finally got a glimpse of the infamous Percy Jackson. Annabeth had been talking their ears off about him ever since the summer the two met. They knew vaguely about the two being an item from Matthews tendency to pick up his parents' grown-up conversations because he was just quiet enough to go unnoticed as opposed to Bobby who always made his presence known even if he didn't mean to. It was almost never good stuff.

Percy almost took a step back despite himself against the scrutinising gaze of the twins. Seriously, where could he learn to do that? Maybe Annabeth's Dad held lessons.

"Percy Jackson?" Bobby questioned.

Percy had always been great with kids. Annabeth had joked about it saying that it was only because he was basically a child himself. But something about making a first impression on his girlfriend's brother's who looked like they had their fair share in troublesome behaviour made it a lot harder. Percy could blow up a few school busses by accident here and there but the twins looked as if they would not only commit vandalism to school property but also devise an intricate plan before doing so. He had to make the right impression, he could feel the pressure from Helen's silent gaze and Fredericks presence from somewhere in the large suburban home.

"Yeah, that's me, it's nice to finally meet you two." Percy scratched the back of his neck subconsciously and turned to Helen.

very cool of him

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Chase." He hesitated before her name not wanting to call her Helen and rendering himself as even more disrespectful than the image of him that she probably had in her mind.

"Yes, I've heard a lot about you. Frederick will be down shortly," She gave Annabeth a side-eye before telling Bobby to go upstairs and call his father from the office.

The silence that followed was enough to send Percy's inattentive mind to the surroundings of the house. It was a pretty big house, nothing too fancy though. The walls were decorated with various family photos and plaques of both Helen and Frederick's degrees and academic achievements.

He noticed quickly that Annabeth memorabilia was lacking save for a picture of her beside the wall nearest to the staircase with a smile, her two front teeth missing and posing proudly in front of a lego block set. Percy couldn't help but take his phone out of his pocket and snap a photo of it.

He didn't call for the loud shutter that erupted the silence and he definitely wasn't expecting to see Frederick Chase's aloof yet somehow still disapproving face on his phone screen.

Annabeth stifled her chuckle with a cough and went forward to greet her dad.

"Hey, Dad."

She wasn't sure whether to hug him but it didn't seem like he was opening his arms in an inviting embrace so Annabeth settled for an awkward handshake.

"Annabeth, I hope the traffic wasn't too bad."

Annabeth shot Percy a look that seemed to say,

‘look at this oaf.’

Percy was new to paternal interactions as well, having only met his dad in this last quarter of his life. But Frederick Chase's actions confused him too. His daughter had fallen into Tartarus and saved the world, putting her life at risk for the second time in the span of a year and the first thing he does is make conversation on vehicular congestion?

Percy calmed his fury at the man as he approached. They had met once before but the middle of a battle determining the fate of the world wasn't exactly the ideal setting to exchange pleasantries. In the back of his mind, Percy hoped he wouldn't attempt to give him "the talk" because quite frankly he didn't have any right to tell Percy to take care of his daughter when he'd been failing to do so himself.

"Percy, It's good to see you again. I hear you two have been on quite the journey these past months." Frederick led them to the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table

This time, it was Percy's turn to throw a meaningful glance Annabeth's way.

Does this man know nothing?

Annabeth returned it with a squeeze of his leg as if she were saying, hang in there.

Helen arrived with steaming plates and bowls of food and the twins weren't far behind her trying to speedily set the table.

Percy thanked Helen for the food and right before he was about to dig into the steaming plate, Annabeth's fears were confirmed.

"It's a little warm in here don't you think? Annabeth must've forgotten to show you but you can hang your coat and scarf behind the door." Frederick suggested.

Percy looked at Annabeth for help, only to see the blood already rushing to her cheeks, fear evident in her eyes.

" Uh- I can't," Percy said shortly.

"You can't?" Frederick's eyebrows raised in question.

"He has this condition, it's uh, what was it called again Percy?" Annabeth aided which must've been suspicious because it wasn't like Annabeth to forget things.

"Um-eczema, it's pretty bad."

"Yeah, wouldn't want flakes of skin falling into your soup or anything," Annabeth added helpfully with a small smile on her face at the twins' disgust.

"Well, sorry I asked then," Frederick said suspiciously but didn't comment on it anymore.

Helen was busy serving Bobby and Matthew, seemingly unaware of the conversation. Percy tapped his foot against Annabeth's shin under the table to get her attention. They were good now. Annabeth shook her head at Percy's gullibility, not buying for a minute that her parents had bought it. But they didn't push, so as far as Annabeth was concerned she was blushing because her boyfriend had a terrible case of eczema and not because she had sucked his neck.

The dinner was unbearable. The food itself was great but even good food couldn't scratch the itch Percy felt to do or say something. Compared to mealtimes at Camp Half-Blood, which were always loud and eventful or dinnertime with Sally who always had something to say whether it be an idea that popped up while writing her manuscript or the oddly dressed poodle she saw on the subway- this dinner was a bore.

It wasn't long before they had retired to the living room again to make more small talk that conveniently avoided the topic of the two falling into the pits of hell. Annabeth had finally given the twins an anticipated copy of a comic series they followed and they'd resided upstairs to read it, leaving the couple alone with Annabeth's parents. They endured until it seemed appropriate to leave.

They were so close. Oh so close to getting up and getting as far away from the dull monotonous voice of the news reporter on TV to the warmth of the car when the tense air was broken by a musical note on the tv claiming to be an emergency weather report.

A blizzard.

It had to be Zeus. It was barely snowing when they had arrived. Percy and Annabeth were stuck and at this moment he had empathised with the dread that encompassed Annabeth every time she had to go home for the summer. How could a house so big feel so claustrophobic and lonely at the same time? The twins were lucky they had each other. He couldn't imagine how Annabeth managed.

"I guess it's a sleepover," Matthew's voice came from the kitchen as he licked the mocha from above his upper lip before running back up the stairs to his brother.

***

Before Percy knew it, he was in the Chase family guest room. Annabeth had nothing to worry about since she had clothes to wear to bed. She had changed into loose purple sweat pants with a long sleeve shirt and had come out of her room to help pick up the assortment of toys that were scattered on the floor. If Percy had an extra room in his house as a child he would probably make it an unofficial playroom as well.

This was probably just as inconvenient for the Chases as it was for them. Percy remembered how his mom fluttered around the house cleaning every surface before the arrival of guests and he finally understood why she always insisted he clean his room even if no-one was entering. Just in case Zeus decided to create a blizzard and snow-in the poor unsuspecting guests.

Percy's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door to the guest room. He opened the door for Helen, who had arrived with a bundle of Frederick's clothes. She placed them in his hands and left abruptly before he could thank her as if she had forgotten something. Annabeth laughed softly at the thought of Percy wearing her dad's plaid pyjama's.

"You think this is funny Wisegirl?" Percy said with a smile spreading on his face as he took off his coat and shirt and buttoned up the plaid print flannel.

"It's quite comical," she said, shamelessly looking at Percy's exposed chest as he fixed the last few buttons.

Annabeth averted her gaze quickly to the action figure on the floor when Helen resurfaced with a small bag of toiletries for Percy.

"Your condition isn't so bad," Helen said to Percy. She glanced at Annabeth, a hint of a sly smile on her usually stoic face.

Annabeth looked between the two of them. Helens eyes and Percy's exposed neck, scarf abandoned. She couldn’t somehow manipulate the mist and make herself disappear. So she opted for the second-best thing.

"Goodnight, I'm gonna go to my room now." she rushed out the words and almost crashed into Helen on her way out.

It was Percy's turn to be flustered as he nervously scratched his neck, then quickly switched to his head not wanting to bring any more attention to the very blatant hickey.

"Towels are in that closet," Helen said finally and closed the door behind her.

Percy puts on the rest of the clothes with two thoughts in mind:

1) Annabeth's cute when she blushes.

2) I hate it here.

#percabeth #hoo #percabeth hickey drabble #percabeth fanfiction #percabeth fluff #annabeth chase #percy jackson #whatisatimeline #on second thought this is not a drabble #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic

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elisela · 4 years

Text

you’ve got my love to keep you warm buck x eddie, 1.8k, nsfw, vermont verse for @extasiswings who asked for: I want CUDDLES. Lazy winter mornings snuggling up in bed because it's too cold, there's too much snow, and no, the hot water bottle does not count to rectify these things, that's what husbands are for.

He wakes up to an empty bed, pushes himself up and immediately drops back down, burrowing deeper into the covers and pulls the thick duvet over his head. Fuck, the house is freezing, worse than normal. He doesn’t know where Buck has gone, mourns the loss of his body heat and sticks a hand out, groping around the nightstand for his phone.

Eddie: Cold hunky husband: Don’t look at your weather app Eddie: Stop changing your name in my phone and get up here hunky husband: u don’t think i’m hunky??? :(

He rolls his eyes, thumbs over to the weather app and curses.

Eddie: I’m moving to a beach in Mexico hunky husband: I told you not to look at the weather app, you big baby. hunky husband: Come downstairs Eddie: I’m not leaving this bed. Eddie: I’ll freeze to death.

He tosses the phone down at his side and tries to tuck the duvet around him more tightly, which works for all of a minute before it’s being yanked off him and he yelps, grabbing for it.

“Rise and shine, baby,” Buck says brightly.

He reaches out and grabs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Buck’s—shorts? What the fuck?—and pulling him down. “Fuck off and warm me up,” he says. “It’s five degrees outside, what the hell are you wearing?”

“If you’d ever exercise—” Buck twists away when Eddie pinches him. “Oh, just for that you’re not joining me in the shower,” he says, and laughs when Eddie scrambles off the bed after him.

He catches Buck around the waist and presses into him, resting his head against his shoulder blade and nuzzling in despite his damp, sweaty skin. Buck’s hands come up and rest on top of his; Eddie feels their wedding bands click together as Buck squeezes his hands. There are goosebumps on his skin, and his knees knock into the back of Buck’s legs as they shuffle towards the bathroom but he keeps holding on, not wanting to let him go. He hears the water running already, and when Buck gets the door open, they’re met with a wall of steam and Eddie sinks into the warmth.

“Genius,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bare skin. “This is why you’re the one with the degree.”

Buck’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “Yeah, that B.A. in Husband Pampering is really paying off.”

“Sure is,” Eddie says, stepping back to pull his clothes off. He rolls his eyes and gathers up the shorts and boxer briefs that Buck leaves in a pile on the floor, and tosses them into the laundry hamper before stepping into the shower and immediately wrapping his arms around Buck again. He hums and melts against him, twisting easily when Buck pivots so he’s under the spray. “Why’s it so fucking cold in this house?”

“Because when you got the heating bill last month you said you weren’t made of money and the co-op was bleeding you dry,” Buck says, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see the smile on his face. “So I turned down the thermostat a few degrees.”

He pulls back at that, pushing Buck’s shoulder until he can look him in the eye. “You did what?”

“The co-op says that keeping that house at fifty-five degrees—“

“Fifty-five?” His mouth drops open—Buck’s heard him complain about the cold for seven years now, and he turns the temperature down to fucking fifty-five? “That’s hardly above freezing,” he says—says, not whines, because Eddie is thirty-five years old and he does not whine. “Get out and turn it up.”

Buck laughs and pulls him forward, and Eddie allows him because there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll ever willingly refuse being pressed against his husband, especially when Buck’s strong, extremely capable hands are wandering down his back, sending a different type of shiver down his spine as his fingers stroke gently against Eddie’s skin. “You can handle a little cold,” he says, “you’ve got my love to keep you warm,” and then he slaps Eddie’s ass and snorts.

“To think I was going to let you fuck me,” Eddie says, and Buck laughs helplessly against his shoulder. “You don’t get to now.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Buck says. “I have plans for you, me, and that rug in front of the fireplace tonight.”

“At least I won’t freeze to death,” he says, pressing forward and turning Buck into the wall—if he gets a certain pleasure at the hiss Buck lets out from being pressed against the cold tile, it’s only because he deserves the revenge. Buck’s fingers trail across the base of his spine, and Eddie pulls him closer, bites just below his ear before he whispers “if you keep me warm, maybe I won’t make you wait until tonight.”

He pulls back enough to see the way Buck’s eyes light up at the challenge and is not at all surprised when Buck pulls him in for a kiss, holding onto his hip with one hand and wrapping his other arm around Eddie’s waist to keep them close as he slides his leg in between Eddie’s. Eddie catches his bottom lip and bites down, rocking himself against Buck’s thigh and groaning, hands groping at his husband’s arms. Sometimes he’s still stunned at how badly he wants Buck, how quickly he can get to the edge with him, like the past several years of domesticity has disappeared and he’s back to seeing Evan Buckley standing shirtless in his backyard, watching the way sweat rolled down his chest and feeling the desperate need for relief.

And now that he’s thinking about that—

Buck’s short gasps are quiet against his mouth as Eddie reaches between them and strokes them together, breath coming faster as he rocks up into Eddie’s fist, his tongue sweeping across Eddie’s lips. Buck rests his forehead against Eddie’s, eyes dropped down, and Eddie knows he’s watching how they look together, gets a thrill from the way Buck pulls back and looks at him before he groans. “Baby,” Buck says, his breath hitching, “you’re so fucking hot.”

He shudders when Buck moves and presses his hands against the cold skin on his back where the water isn’t falling, and maybe it’s difference in temperature that throws his body into overdrive or maybe it’s the way Buck bites his neck before throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he comes with a gasp; either way, Eddie loses his balance a little and stumbles forward, groans when the head of his cock drags against Buck’s stomach, and follows him over.

He leans on Buck for a moment, tries to get his breathing under control before sliding a hand around his neck and pulling him down, and lets Buck kiss his shoulder before Eddie whispers into his ear, “baby, I’m so fucking cold.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” Eddie says—says, not pouts, because he is thirty-five years old and needs to save the pouting for when he really wants to get his way, say, when his husband and son are ganging up on him.

But this is not one of those times, so he just says it in a completely normal tone of voice.

“Maybe that’s because I can’t tell if it’s Eddie or Christopher begging me for something right now,” Buck says. “Eds, I swear, I just need to finish submitting these forms and I’ll go get your book. Or, you know, you could go get it.”

And leave his nest of blankets, curled up on the couch with his feet in his husband’s lap? “Or could you keep me warm like you promised.”

He knows Buck’s trying to keep his face neutral, but the corner of his mouth curves up for just a moment before he fights it back down. “I think you could make it up to the office and back,” Buck says. “Pretty sure your body heat will hold for that long.”

“Can’t risk it,” Eddie says, letting his body fall back onto the couch and picking his phone back up. “What do you want for lunch? Hen just dropped the boys off and says she’s stopping at Bobby’s on the way back and she can pick us up something if we want.”

“Just get two of whatever you want,” Buck says, and shakes his head when Eddie mutters about liver and onions. “Real nice,” he says. “Just for that, I’m not building the garage you want.”

“I’ve wanted a garage for seven years,” Eddie says, finishing the text to Hen and setting his phone on his stomach, “and every year you say okay, now you’ll build it. It’s not exactly a threat anymore.”

Buck pushes Eddie’s feet off his lap and stands up, laptop dangling from one hand. “Yes, but now I submitted the permits, so you’ll actually get it. Or you will if Hen doesn’t show up with liver and onions.” He leans down and kisses Eddie’s forehead before bounding up the stairs, and Eddie grabs his phone and unlocks it.

Eddie: Can you pick up chocolate cake from the bakery? Hen: Can you watch Denny on Friday night? Eddie: Definitely. Two slices? And that dark hot chocolate.

He takes a screenshot and sends it to Buck, hears the chime on his phone at the same time Buck comes clattering down the stairs, and despite Buck dropping onto the other end of the couch, his phone buzzes a moment later.

hunky husband: aww u do love me!

He waits for Buck to toss the book to him, but Buck just pats his lap and says, “c’mere, Eds,” and helps rearrange the blankets around him after he settles his head on Buck’s lap and turns his face in, almost pressing his nose against Buck’s stomach.

Buck reads to him, holding the book in one hand and rubbing the back of Eddie’s neck with the other, until Hen drops by with their food and stays long enough to tease Eddie about his aversion to the cold, and Buck turns on Say Yes to the Dress while they eat and indulge in Eddie’s favorite trashy television past time—making fun of people for choosing ugly wedding dresses.

He’s not sure how they end up on the “Hallmark Christmas Movies” category, but by the time the room is getting dark, Buck is sprawled out against him, sniffling suspiciously when a man wearing fatigues shows up to a school concert last minute, and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tease him about it, just kisses his forehead and rubs his back slowly.

But as much as he loves his husband, he does not love overly sappy, poorly written Chrismas movies, so he reaches for the remote when the credit rolls and turns it off. The only light comes from the fireplace, which reminds him—

“Didn’t you have plans for you and me and that rug over there?” he asks, letting his fingers wander underneath Buck’s hoodie.

“Can wait,” Buck says, snuggling closer to him and tilting his head up; Eddie feels his lips against his neck, a soft kiss pressed into his skin. “I’m nice and warm right here.”

And surprisingly, despite the bitter cold outside, Eddie is too.

#buddie fic #buddie #vermont verse #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fluff #domestic fluff #so much domestic fluff honestly #eli writes

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chxmpionofjustice · 4 years

Text

STUDY : TSUKINO USAGI ♡

♡ BASICS.

♡ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE? Usagi is the shortest of all of her friends. She’s 4′11″ or 150 cm and yes, she’s fun-sized.

♡ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yes and no. Her lack of height can come in handy sometimes, but it really is a pain in the butt to buy pants. She compensates with shorts and skirts and she can’t really complain because she’s looks amazing in them. And her boyfriend’s face is too far away from hers for her own liking, but standing on tip toe for a kiss feels like something out of a romance, so she can deal.

♡ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? Long, blonde, and shiny. She tries to keep it cut to around knee/calf length but ever since she awoke as the Moon Princess, her hair seems to want to grow much farther than than of its own accord and... well it seems to get a little lighter over time. She keeps her hair up in her signature odango-and-pig-tail style on either side of her head. The hair style is held to together painstakingly with hair bands and bobby pins, all of which come out when she goes to sleep. Sometimes she’ll wear her hair in two low pigtails when she sleeps but more often than not, she lets her hair loose.

♡ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING? Hahahahahahahhahaha. What do you think? YES. Usagi’s hair is one of the few things she puts real effort into. Her hairstyle itself takes a lot of time to do (She’s got the thing down to a science but it still takes her around 10 minutes and would take anyone else a LOT longer), not to mention what she does to keep her hair healthy. Usagi has a whole basket of hair products in her room, ranging from shampoos, conditioners, hair masks, and oils. Maintaining all that hair is hard, okay?

♡ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK? Yes and no. She definitely cares what she looks like. She loves fashion and putting together outfits so she looks kawaii wherever she’s going (this also counts work as an adult, she will be the girl in the office wearing the cutest blouse and skirt combo with a pair of adorable kitten heels and this will clearly fool everyone into thinking she can adult). But she doesn’t really do that because she cares what others think. She does that for herself, to make herself happy. And if people happen to think she looks good, well that’s a plus. She can be a little vain like that, but who isn’t?

♡ PREFERENCES.

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? outdoors

RAIN OR SUNSHINE? sunshine

FOREST OR BEACH? beach

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? gems

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? flowers

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? personality

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? being in a crowd

ORDER OR ANARCHY? order

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? painful truths

SCIENCE OR MAGIC? magic

PEACE OR CONFLICT? peace

NIGHT OR DAY? day

DUSK OR DAWN? dusk

WARMTH OR COLD? warmth

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? a few close friends

READING OR PLAYING A GAME? GIVE ME GAMES OR GIVE ME DEATH

♡ QUESTIONNAIRE.

♡ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? HAHAHAHA. Okay do y’all even have TIME to read this? Seriously, there are a lot. To name the biggest bad habit of hers, it’s over-indulgence. Usagi shamelessly indulges in EVERYTHING she loves to the point of excess sometimes. She’s banned from a couple buffets because of her eating habits, the girl is a black hole for food, and will eat whatever she wants to eat. She wastes money on food, mostly junk food because she doesn’t cook.

Despite the fact that she can’t cook, she will buy ANY cute appliance available for the kitchen that she can. Hello Kitty Toaster? Got it. Sailor Senshi chopsticks? GOT THE WHOLE SET (of course for when everyone comes over, they can eat with their designated chopsticks, duh). Mickey Mouse Waffle Maker? BOUGHT (Girl doesn’t know how to make waffle batter). Every single cup she owns has a character on if from some anime, movie, or manga. She even has commemorative Sailor Senshi cups too. Oh you thought it ended with the chopsticks? NOPE. She spends money on plushies, pillows, pens, bags, etc, of her and her friends and does it QUITE HAPPILY. Of course, the thing she buys the most of (besides herself)? Tuxedo Mask. Tuxedo Mask plushies. A Tuxedo Mask pillow case for a body pillow (listen don’t judge her), the rare Tuxedo Mask action figure and the Tuxedo Mask vibr-.... Well let’s just say that she doesn’t only buy every day items with his brand.

A lot of her indulgence has to do with money because she has no impulse control. If she sees a cute thing, she wants it, she buys it. Be it items or clothes. And whatever she buys usually ends up... Well, not put away. Usagi can be pretty messy (it’s a system that works for her, okay), to put it simply. And she’s messy because, to put it quite frankly, she’s kind of lazy. She’s a queen procrastinator who prefers to play games, read manga, doodle, and SLEEP rather than do homework or chores. Usagi would rather do anything under the sun except her responsibilities and everyone who knows her knows this. Boy, do they know this.

That being said, when she is facing her responsibilities as Sailor Moon, she does almost a complete 180. The Earth is her responsibility to protect and she will do anything she has to to keep it safe. Even if it means sacrificing herself. Despite how selfish she can act with certain things (food mostly, she’s like Joey, JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD), Usagi will give herself to save a life in an instant. No hesitation. Because to her every life is precious. The world is precious. So if she has to use her crystal to the point where she has no life energy left to defeat someone evil or divert an asteroid, she will. If she has to throw herself into an abyss to defeat an enemy and save everyone else, she will.

You may be asking yourself why I wrote that all out. “Altruism is a good thing!” I did it because the level of altruism she displays is destructive. To herself. She is so willing to save everyone that if she sees her own demise as the only way to keep everyone else from dying, she will let herself die. And that’s not giving up. Giving up would be going without a fight. Usagi is gonna fight until her very last breath and that’s gonna be what takes her. Unless someone can come up with a way to save everyone where she won’t have to do that, there’s no stopping her, either.

♡ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? Yes and no. Usagi and her friends have all died more than once. Losing them and Mamoru the first time it happened was absolutely devastating to her. She still has nightmares of seeing their bodies lifelessly laying in the snow. Of watching Mamoru, her prince, die in her arms and then be taken away from her only to become a pawn for the enemy.

The first deaths are the hardest to get over.

And then watching one by one as her friends were taken by the Black Moon (she only BARELY saved Venus, if she didn’t have Mina-P with her, she doesn’t know if she would have been able to go on like she did), her future daughter was corrupted so heinously that she took her own father hostage for her own amusement, and then Sailor Pluto’s death.

I won’t even get into how Galaxia practically vaporized Mamoru in front of her and she was so traumatized that she wiped it from her own memory and was convinced he got on the plane to America. Or how Galaxia also did the same to her friends. There are nights Usagi wakes up in tears with the awful inability to breathe and the only thing that can calm her down is hearing their voices.

She clings tight to Mamoru when anyone gives him an all too appreciative lingering look (seriously, the man is too pretty for his own good, he attracts so many bad guys) because god forbid they end up turning out to be something evil and try to take him away from her.

The long and the short of it is that Usagi definitely has some form of PTSD. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

♡ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? Usagi had a sunny life and continues to live wearing rose-tinted glasses even when she has to stop and save the world now and then. She has so many fond memories of growing up like playing dress up with her mom, meeting Naru in primary school, playing in parks and going to the beach with her family. She has even fonder memories of meeting her best friends, her sisters in arms, in middle school.

And, despite how it ended, sometimes Usagi likes to think on some of the memories from her past life in the Silver Millennium. How she and the senshi would spend day after day with each other. Memories of her mother doting on her and of extravagant balls held in opulent ballrooms. Memories of meeting the beautiful prince of Earth and of the first time she felt his lips on hers.

She has an awful lot to sort through.

♡ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? Hell no. She struggles with that idea. The only time she kills is when the enemy has shown their truest form and she has no choice. Otherwise, Usagi will do her damnedest to save everyone. The bad guy included. Because everyone deserves a second chance to do the right thing.

♡ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? Usagi is known for being a crybaby. We establish this early on when we meet her. So one would think her break downs are loud and dramatic because that’s how she is when she cries. That’s... Not strictly true though. When Usagi breaks down, really breaks down, its because she’s holding onto her pain quietly. Usagi breaks down with silent tears and full body sobs. She breaks down with trembling hands and their white knuckle grip on her pillow that she’s holding against her face to muffle when she can’t be quiet anymore.

She breaks down alone.

When someone finds her and tries to comfort her, it can go one of two ways, either she’ll just keep letting it out and allow herself to be comforted, or she’ll suck it all back in, put a stopper in it and assure whomever it is that she’s fine, really, she was just crying because Lawsons didn’t have any more red velvet cake, honestly.

When Usagi breaks down, she’s at her lowest emotionally, usually feeling horrible about herself. That’s a point that you’d think would be particularly difficult for her to get to right? Right?

♡ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? She literally does this all the time. Usagi is an amazing judge of character. Not counting her senshi, Usagi has put her life in the hands of people that her allies considered untrustworthy multiple times. And she was right to trust every single one of them. The first one being Tuxedo Mask, then the Outer Senshi. After that, Hotaru. Helios. The Starlights. Usagi knows when she can trust someone with her life and yes, yes, YES, she is very capable of doing it.

♡ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? Haaaaaaaaaaaa, gosh. Usagi in love is... She loves with her whole self. Usagi is not good at hiding her emotions, even when she’s trying to hold them in. She’s the definition of ‘heart on your sleeve’ because she’s so very open with her emotions and she doesn’t know any other way to be.

When Usagi is in love, you can take one look at her with the person she loves and it’s obvious. We’re talkin’ heart eyes muthafucka. She’s clingy, likes to touch and be affectionate a lot. And, this goes back to her indulgence thing, she has no problem letting her person know she wants them when she wants them and indulging in that. She’s not subtle in anything with her love.

She is very physical in her love, but that’s because that’s how she is. But being in love is also tender. Kisses pressed into sleep warm skin, banter and giggles over breakfast (that the other person made because once again, ya girl cannot COOK), cuddling on the couch or in bed while having soft conversations or talking about their day, going out to spend the day at the park or where ever for a day date, romantic dinners in her favorite restaurants or, even better, at home. It’s secret smiles and softened eyes and soft brushes of skin. It’s being completely open and endlessly patient when the other person can’t be just yet. Usagi in love is both in-your-face and achingly tender.

And yes, I know that Usagi had heart eyes when she saw Rei. Listen. Usagi has a big heart. Like a humongous heart. She falls in love easily. She could say she’s in love with her ice cream and totally mean it, okay? Usagi loves with all of herself and that’s not just romantically. But the type of “in love” Usagi can be in, because of her heart, can seem fickle, even when it’s not to her. Just because she started loving one thing doesn’t mean she doesn’t love something else just as fiercely.

♡ TAGGED BY: @adversitybloomed ♡ TAGGING : WHO EVER WANTS TO TBH

#about usagi;;#dash games;;#GABBY THIS TOOK ME 3 HOURS #AND I DO NOT EVEN CARE ABOUT THE READ MORE AT THIS POINT #DEAL WITH THE LONG POST Y'ALL.

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 7 | Snowball

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary: Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

This chapter: Tom makes his feelings know but does Tamra feel the same? And where do they go from here?

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

As Tom pressed Tamra against him, electric shocks traveled from his lips to his toes. Tamra’s other hand moved to the back on Tom’s head, tangling in his ginger locks along the nape of his neck. He tasted of chocolate and mint. They sighed against each other and parted. Tom panted as he pushed his forehead against hers.

“Um…” Tamra panted as she twirled Tom’s hair in her fingers. “That was…”

“Yeah… ah.. so…” Tom stood up straight, searching her face for a smile, a wink, something to show him she returned his feelings.

“Um… so… you kissed me.” Tamra asked, pushing away to face Tom head on. She stood emotionless, her face a mask of all emotion.

“I did.” Tom flushed as he started to pull away, wringing his hands in front of him.

“Why?” she questioned.

“I did say I was a man of action.” Tamra’s face remained unmoved. The smile dropped from Tom’s face, and he felt a wave of guilt and embarrassment at the whole situation. He clearly read the room wrong. “We can just forget that ever—”

Tamra grabbed him and pulled him into another embrace. He returned the kiss and sighed against her and Tamra followed suit. Tom slipped his tongue in and Tamra moaned in his embrace. Their embrace grew more heated as Tom’s hand slid down from Tamra’s neck, past her shoulders, skimming her curves before lighting on her waist.

“So…” Tom panted as they parted. “You kissed me.” He stood confused.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

Tamra’s lips curled into a small smile. “You said you like a woman who takes charge. So… I took charge of the situation.” Her hands never left his neck.

His eyebrows rose as his mouth fell open. “I find myself lying awake at thinking about the next time I will see you. I can’t sleep. Hence the dark circles. It’s all your fault.”

Tamra giggled. “Are you blaming me for your lack of sleep?”

“Yes. You don’t know the effect you have on me.”

“And you… like you don’t know how ridiculously charming you are? I still hate Christmas but I can’t help but enjoy our time together.” Tamra huffed.

Tom smiled as he raised a hand to cup her cheek. “You think I’m charming?”

“You know you are. And handsome.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Tom smiled, raising now the other hand to cup Tamra’s other cheek.

“Did I say handsome? I meant incorrigible and ridiculous and… and…” Tamra stammered as her eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape.

“Darling…” Tom whispered as he kissed her once again, this time tender. His thumbs ran across her cheeks. Her hands raked through his curls.

“So where do we go from here?” she asked.

Tom opened his mouth, but his stomach growling stopped him from speaking.

“First, we need to eat some dinner. We skipped lunch. Again.”

Tamra rolled her eyes until her stomach growled. She pulled her arms around her midsection, willing her stomach to cease its loud yawing. Tom laughed.

“And then…”

“And then…” he gave a quick peck to her lips. “Whatever we want.

Tom led Tamra to the kitchen where he fished out a small collection of takeaway menus.

“So I was right about not cooking.”

“Guilty as charged. Pick a menu.”

Tamra shook her head. “You pick. I trust you.”

“A horrible choice.”

They spent the rest of the evening eating, watching movies on the couch and snuggling under the blankets. Tom yawned as Tamra clicked the movie.

“It’s late.” she commented about the hour. “You must be exhausted.”

She stood and turned to head to the guest room. Tom grabbed her wrist, preventing her exit.

“Stay with me tonight.”

She looked down at him. Her brow furrowed. “I am staying with you. We’re snowed in. Remember?”

Tom stood to meet her eyes. He released her wrists and laced his fingers with her. “No. I mean stay with me tonight. Not two doors down the hall. Not in the guest room. In my bed, next to me. I need you near me.”

Tamra chewed on her lower lip, considering the proposal. Tom dropped his chin and looked at her through his lashes, his eyes begging and pleading her to say yes. She gave his a hand a squeeze.

“Okay.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

Tom led her to the master bedroom, and they ended up buried under blankets and sheets. Tom sat up reading a script for a potential project. Tamra continues to read the book from the night before.

“Tom?” she asked in soft tones. He didn’t respond.

She turned to find him fast asleep, script slipping from his hand, his breath deep and even. Tamra went to his side of the bed and took the glasses from his face, placing them on the nightstand. She followed with the script, keeping his place. Finally, she cradled his head to lower the pillows flat. She brushed an errant curl from his forehead and press her lips to Tom’s forehead.

“Goodnight Tom.”

Tom rolled onto his side as she clicked the lamp off. “Goodnight darling.”

Tom awoke the next morning to find himself snuggled against Tamra’s back, arms wrapped around her. Tom hummed and sighed as he enjoyed the weight and warmth against his chest. He felt at peace and for the first time in days, refreshed. His alarm disrupted the blissful moment, and he turned to shut the sound off before it woke Tamra.

With much reluctance, Tom rolled out of bed and dressed for his walk. He fed Bobby and headed out the door after leaving a note in case Tamra woke up before he returned. On his run, his mind raced through everything that transpired over the past several days. He panicked for a moment at what would happen after the holidays ended and Tamra needed to leave but he pushed that troubling thought away for the time being. Tom returned and found Tamra still asleep. He headed to the shower.

“Now that is a sight I could get used to in the morning.” Tamra commented as Tom stepped out from the bathroom, his towel slung low on his waist.

Tom chuckled. “I agree 100%.” He leaned to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “A lovely, beautiful woman in my bed. Smiling up at me. You spoil me.”

Tamra moved so Tom could take a seat next to her.

“What do you want to do? Which museum today?”

Tamra thought about the day ahead. “Why don’t we skip the museums for a day? You pick.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “I know just the thing but first we need you to get dressed and go by your flat to pick up some clothes for you because you can’t wear my shirt outside.”

“But I make this look good.”

Tom kissed her, pulling her down on top of him. “You do.” he pecked her lips once, twice, three times. “But it is not suitable for snow. Would you settle for a borrowed hat, scarf, and gloves?”

“Fine.” Tamra stood. “Let me get dressed.” She left the room.

“You could use the bathroom in here!” He yelled in the general direction of the hallway.

“But it smells like boy!” a disembodied voice yelled back.

Tom took Bobby out to the backyard to run around in the accumulated snow. Bobby bounded through the thick blanket of white with balls of snow gathering on his fur, making him resemble a pom-pom monster.

“What a mess, boy.” Tom scolded as he brushed as much snow off of Bobby’s coat.

Bobby barked as if in agreement. Tom smiled as he petted Bobby’s back. “What do you think about Tamra? Is she a keeper?”

Bobby barked again and jumped into Tom’s chest, rocking him back and almost off his feet. “Me too, boy. Me too.”

Tom headed into the house and found Tamra standing in the living room, spying out a nearby window.

“A little male bonding time?” she chuckled as Bobby bounded in ahead of Tom, jumping at Tamra’s legs.

“Something like that. He is quite taken with you.”

Tamra knelt down to scratch behind Bobby’s ears. “He is a sweetheart.” Tom’s smile reached his eyes as he looked down at the two of them. “Much like his owner.”

“A high compliment coming from you.” Tom grabbed her jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”

Tamra gave Bobby a final scratch and took off for the door. Bobby gave a whine as Tom and Tamra gave a wave on their way out.

They stopped by Tamra’s flat first, so she could change into some fresh clothes and put on the one pair of boots she brought with her. Tom packed her suitcase into the back of the car.

They stopped by for more pastry and coffee and then walked over to the nearby park.

“So what about your family?” Tom asked as they sipped coffee and navigated the icy path.

“What about them?”

“Well, you’re here and they’re not. At Christmas. Surely you are not an entire family of Scrooges.”

Tamra snorted. “No. You and my mother could compete for the Christmas spirit stick. Fully decked out trees, the tree up the day after Halloween. The whole works.” Her nose crinkled in an expression Tom now recognized as a sign of distaste.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Tom bumped into her shoulder.

“I don’t think I could handle two Buddies in my life. You are bad enough on your own.”

Tom took a big sip of his coffee before taking her hand and leading her around a patch of black ice. “You don’t know what you are missing out on.”

“I’ll take my chances. What about your family? Are they bundles of boundless energy just like you?” She turned to see Tom throw his head back in laughter.

“Hardly. They are normal bundles of energy. And my sisters constantly remind me I am nothing special.”

He gave her hand a squeeze as they finished up their coffee. Tom grabbed Tamra empty cup and walked to a nearby trash can.

“Sounds like my kind of girls.”

“You are never meeting them. I would never survive the onslaught.” Tom commented over his shoulder.

He noticed Tamra’s back turned to watch a group of kids have a snowball fight. His eyes twinkled as his gaze darted to the fresh snow in front of him.

Splat!

“EEEK!” Tamra squealed as a snowball hit her square in the back. She whipped around to find Tom bent over in a fit of laughter.

He didn’t see the snowball until it landed on his shoulder, exploding into shards of white.

“Hey!” Tom’s eyes narrowed as he shot off towards Tamra. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Only if you catch me!” Tamra ran as Tom barreled towards her.

They both made hasty snowballs as they ran towards the center of the park. Their throws going wide as they continue chase, Tamra lobbing snowballs over her shoulder.

Tom’s running background comes into play and his long stride helped as he gained on Tamra.

“Gotcha!” he triumphed when he made it within arm’s reach of Tamra.

His fingers grazed her sleeve, and he gained purchase on Tamra’s wrist. He whipped his arm to snap Tamra back towards him. She pivoted to face him but her momentum sent her straight into Tom’s chest.

“Aah!” Tamra clambered as she and Tom tumbled into a deep bank of snow.

“Oof.” Tom’s breath left him as Tamra landed on top of him. His hands shot out to steady her. “Got you.”

Tamra smiled down at him and Tom brushed her now snow soaked hair out of her face to gaze into her hazel eyes.

“Truce?” he asked not letting up on his grip on her.

She leaned down and kissed him. He used his grip to pull her closer, not caring if anyone saw or that his coat soaked with snow. They parted. “Truce.”

Tamra pushed herself to standing and offered her hand to Tom. He took it and stood. Tamra wrapped her arms around Tom.

“Tom?”

“Yes, darling.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Have I ever told you…” she paused to look down at her boots. “… that I lie?”

Tom’s eyes widened as Tamra’s face grew into an evil smile and she shoved a hidden handful of snow down his shirt.

“OOoo!!” Tom jumped at the cold wet running down his back. His blue eyes flashed at Tamra and she took off running. “Never trick the trickster!”

“Loki can’t save you now!”

The two of them continued taunting and throwing snowballs until both of them were soaked to the bone and out of breath. They returned to the car, blasting the heat on the way back to Tom’s place.

“Brrr.” Tom exclaimed as he peeled his jacket off and then his sweater and shirt. “You fight dirty.”

Tamra stared as Tom stood shirtless and her pulse raced. “So do you.”

Tom took a step forward. Tamra shivered at the proximity of him. “You’re shivering.” He raised his hands to rub up and down her arms.

“Not helping.”

A whisper of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Does this help?” He tugged her into his chest.

His warmth bled through Tamra’s thin sweater. Her heart raced, and she felt Tom’s race and he pulled her into a passionate kiss. He huffed as he nipped at her lips. Tamra moaned against him. Their chests heaved as Tom pulled away, his bated breath fanning across her cheek.

“Better?” Tom whispered.

“A little.” Tamra whispered back. She stared into Tom’s eyes, his pupils blown and his lips hungry.

“How about a hot shower?” his intention clear by his tone.

She nodded. “Sounds… nice.”

Tom smiled as he kissed her again, more heated and more urgent. He led her towards the master bedroom, unaware of the notifications going off on his phone in his discarded jacket.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #bah hiddleston

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theabominableblogger · 5 years

Text

Rewatching “Crimson Peak”

Discussing this movie on the Gotham group chat with @ckatattack and decided “Eff it, Imma watch it again.”

Lez go!

“Rent movie for $3.99″ absolutely

Holy crap, I forgot about this opening lullaby during the logo. Holy shit.

For some reason, the bloody Edith in the opening shot really looks like something the girl behind MadeYewLook should do. Other Alexis, hear me out!

These colors (in young Edith’s bedroom)!

*flinches when the first ghost puts her hand on Young Edith’s shoulder*

You ever had someone put their hand on your shoulder when you’re like seconds away from falling asleep? Scariest shit ever.

*silently jams out to the music when Edith is traveling to the publisher*

I freaking LOVE Edith’s yellow dress in this movie. The puffy shoulders, the black under dress, the straw hat, love it.

“Actually, Mrs. McMichael, I would prefer Mary Shelley. She died a widow.” *z snaps*

“The ghost is just a metaphor. For the past.” Boom there’s the whole movie.

“He told me it needed a love story. Can you believe that?” AGAIN-

Also holy shit, Bobby from Supernatural is Edith’s dad!

For a second, I thought this typing house looked like a science fair.

AND THERE HE [Tom HIddleston] ISSSS!!

I’m sorry, I’m just smiling... so hard at this [Edith and Thomas’s first scene together]

Listen, if we get a scene in the Loki TV show where we see him in an outfit very close to the one he wears in this movie, I will... die. That’s it. I’ll just die.

The aesthetics for most of Guillermo del Toro’s movies are wonderful. The like 95% period accurate clothing, the yellow lighting, the red and green wallpapers OH MY GOD I JUST NOTICED THE RED AND GREEN

*The door knob starts creaking* Oh boy

That shot of Edith’s face in half shadow when she’s about ready to close the door but she sees the ghost of her mother? Good stuff.

*Thomas waits near the staircase* OH SNAP HE LOOK GOOD

OHHHHHHH THAT TRANSITIONNNNN [from the staircase to the ballroom]!!

I also love the detail that Lucille’s dress is ten years too old for her because she is still stuck in the past when it comes to life.

*grins like an idiot when Thomas offers the candle to Edith*

There are so many people gasping in this scene

I wonder if they actually did try to do the waltz with the actual candle lit for filming or did they do some VFX to make it look like it was lit the whole time? Part of me thinks that that flame’s real but I don’t know.

Where have I seen the guy who plays the investigator before?

“The man that just left, among other ailments, is colorblind....only the majority around him does. Now that man will never perceive the colors red or green. He only accepts their existence because the majority around him does.” “Perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to see them.” OH MY GOD ALL THE RED AND GREEN IN EDITH’S HOME

Charlie Hunnam’s Britsh accent slipped in when he said “understand”

Also I want this man to play Green Arrow in the DCEU

Did she [Lucille] just rub the dead butterfly on her face?

*Close of ants feeding on dead butterfly* Thanks, that was needed.

*Thomas reveals the ring he was going to give Edith* BOY YOU KNEW HER FOR LIKE A THREE DAYS AND A NIGHT

Were those all the previous marriage certificates?

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unexpected announcement. Sir Thomas?” *sinks down in seat and hisses nervously*

*is extremely uncomfortable when Thomas has to insult Edith’s novel in front of her*

*Edith slaps Thomas* Well he took that pretty well.

*Lucille in the doorway of the dining room* You know what, eff you.

*jaw drops in horror when someone smashes Mr. Cushing’s face in the sink repeatedly, killing him*

I love that Edith is still in her nightgown and she still has bed head (of a sorts) and yet she ran to the hotel, just throwing on a coat and leaving her reading glasses on.

*slams hands on laptop* THESE. TRANSITIONS.

I FORGOT ABOUT THE PUPPER!

BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE GREEN WALLPAPER, SET DESIGNERS!

I’m sorry, was that a slight kiss mark on Edith’s chin? Did I see that right?

Boy, you be hugging your sister for way too long...

*Lucille refuses to give Edith a copy of the keys* Electric chair.

“You chose her. Why?” BECAUSE HE LOVES HER YOU BITCH

*One of the ghosts sneaks up on Edith in the bathroom* We see you, @actordougjones!! I see you!!

*Thomas loudly stirs Edith’s tea for her* I’m suddenly flashing back to the tea cup from “Get Out”

So would the Sunken Place for this scenario just be completely red from the red clay? Thoughts to think about.

Wait, how long is Mia Wasikowska’s hair? Is that all real? Jeez! The last time I had hair down to my butt was in elementary school.

“Mother.” Oo woo oo...

Look, I’ve already seen this movie, but I already want Lucille to shut the hell up.

I’m sorry, was that a porn book Lucille just showed Edith?

Well damn they replaced that sink real quick!

*Thomas watches Edith as she watches one of his contraptions* S T O P

Mr. del Toro, you have been reading my list of favorite romantic tropes. Sir please-

*Edith and Thomas kiss passionately* OH... OHH...

*gestures in the air with frustration when Lucille enters the room*

GO AWAY

Can we start taking shots every time Edith starts wandering around the halls in her nightgown holding a candelabra in this movie?

GREEEEEENNNNNN...

*One of the ghosts starts crawling on the floor, moaning and wailing* Haha me

*to the tune of “Sugar We’re Going Down”* WE’RE GOING DOWN DOWN INTO THE RED CLAY BASEMENT! EDITH WE’RE GOING DOWN-

“My hands are getting rough. Your father would approve.” Why would I just realize that? Man, I’m getting slow.

The last time I watched this movie was in 2016. I watched the trailer back when I was a senior in high school. And I watched that trailer multiple times.

I love the ghost as the scarecrow

Girl, you are coughing up blood. You have been poisoned.

Edith back at it again wandering around at night! Take a shot!

This was a terrible decision for me to watch this at like midnight. Why did I do this?

OK, so which one of these ghosts is Javier Botet?

Oh my gosh, the chair Edith is in is bigger than last time because she’s being swallowed by the house.

AND ANOTHER TRANSITION!

“Sir Thomas is already married.” BUM BUM BUMMM!!

*has to look away as Thomas and Edith get it on*

Aaand there’s the English countryside right there. I’m gonna look back away now.

“Lucille, we’re back!” Lucille, you son of a bitch.

“You slept there? You two... alone...” Yeah, that’s what husband and wife do. They get together, sleep together, do a lot of things together. Jesus.

“I was so alone. I can’t be alone.” Lady, I just want you to shut the hell up.

OK, so now I forget what’s in the ES suitcase? Enola’s body? What’s up?

Oh, it’s just a suitcase full of other stuff. Never mind. I thought it was gonna be her body.

Lemme guess the ghost is gonna rise out of the red goo? Yep!

I’m getting a lot of callbacks to “The Shining” like with all the red and then the ghost with the ax in her head climbing out of the tub

Jessica Chastain’s accent keeps slipping. Am I the only one who’s noticed?

*laughing* Oh my God, again! Take a shot!

Oh my God they freaking swindled a lady in a wheelchair. Ohhhh my God...

WAIT I FORGOT THAT WAS ENOLA’S DOG!

“The poison... is in the tea!” Funnnnnnnnn....

Oh but of course she got snowed in.

“I [Lucille] tended Mother in this bed.” *so done*

STOP EFFING... SCRAPING THE TEA CUP GODDAMN

STOP IT

So is Lucille the older sibling? Oh yeah she is because she said she tended to their mom

*completely done with Lucille’s BS*

Whoever did the set design for Allerdale Hall, I want to send them flowers and my love

OK I know for a fact that that’s Doug Jones as the ghost of Enola

WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS SHIT

*quickly rips out earphones*

*cue a very long string of expletives and looking up and away from the screen*

EXCUSE ME HER [expletive] BACK IS BROKEN! SHE HAS LOST THE WILL TO WALK!

*singing* ALAAANNNN THE UNSUNG HE-ROOOOOO!!!

LUCILLE I WANT YOU *laughing* TO SHUT THE HELL UP

*gasps* WAIT SHE TOOK THE RING BACK FROM EDITH!

“I’m [Alan] here to take you [Edith] away.” *singing* They’re going to take me away, a ha, they’re going to take me away!

Wait he’s a doctor and he just yanks that sucker out of his arm pit? You’d think he’d be smarter than that.

OH MY GOD THEY KILLED THE DOG

*shakes head at the whole fiasco*

*ends up glaring at Lucille as she tosses Edith’s manuscript in the fire*

Edith, while she’s looking away, just freaking tear that... *mimes tearing motion*

Oh my God of course she [Lucille] has a drawer full of the victim’s hairs

“You told me you loved me!” “I do!” AGH

*Thomas throws the law papers in the fire* YAASSSS!!

*gasps when Lucille stabs Thomas*

*jaw drops in horror when Thomas just shanked IN THE FACE*

GOD AND YOU CAN HEAR THE BONE-

*Thomas dies* Jeeesus... that was a good death scene.

God the shot of Lucille running down the stairs from behind? Ugh! And with the flowing fabric behind her! Freaking gorgeous

*Edith goes down in the elevator* Bye bish

That is a huge freaking meat cleaver

Seeing Edith with her steak knife going up against Lucille reminds me of that freaking chainsaw fight from “Mandy” with Nicholas Cage

This final set piece!

*Edith goes up against Lucille with a shovel* MY NAME IS INIGO MONTOYA! YOU KILLED MY FATHER! PREPARE TO DIE!

*Ghost Thomas* Those prosthetics look amazing

*Ghost Thomas nuzzles against Edith’s hand before disappearing* God it’s the little movements. del Toro freaking GETS it

*nods when the end credits start*

#crimson peake #the blogger reacts #Guillermo Del Toro #jessica chastain #tom hiddleston #mia wasikowska #charlie hunnam #edith cushing #thomas sharpe #lucille sharpe #ckattack #doug jones

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years

Text

A love that never leaves (2)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Sad Bucky.

A/N: The plot thickens. Bucky recovers from a shit situation and learns more about the person who found him. Remembering is really hard and memories do not cooperate.

I’m planning to post a chapter a week, on either Saturday or Sunday. I tried to tag everyone who reached out, but if I missed you, it was unintentional, so please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

The figure halts. A gloved hand reaches to pull back the hood of the white coat and a woman’s face appears. Even through the howling wind, Bucky hears her question clearly and he doesn’t understand why the two syllables feel like a knife ripping through skin and bone and thick sinew, straight to his heart.

“Soldier?”

She speaks hesitantly, her voice tinged with a peculiar hint of hope. Bucky wants to ruminate further, but his fingers are rubbing the slippery edges of his gunshot wounds and the snow around him is greedy, lusting for the hot blood he spills.

He wants to answer. He tries to answer, he really does.

Instead, he falls face first into the soft snow.

*****

MISSION REPORT

CONTACT MADE BUT RESPONDENT ELIMINATED. BASE DID NOT REVEAL INFORMATION REQUIRED TO PROCEED TO NEXT RENDEZVOUS POINT. HOLD AND WAIT.

WITHOUT ADDITIONAL SUPPORT MISSION FAILURE IS IMMINENT. REQUESTING BACK UP FOR –

For what? The words evaporate. Smoke in the wind. The pencil clatters to the floor and rolls away and his notebook follows. He goes to his knees in front of the brick wall and he slams his fist against it again and again, until his knuckles are shredded.

He screams.

****

Bucky’s entire body is on fire.

Burning hot, scorching him from the inside out. This can’t be right, he’s done. He’s supposed to be done with this shit, what are they doing now? Bleary eyes open and he tries to speak. To tell them no, to leave him alone, to please just fucking stop. Heat races through his veins, suffocating him and he feels rivers of sweat coursing down his face, down his chest, down his arms.

Above him, floats a blurry face, both intensely familiar and completely foreign. She wipes a cold cloth over his face and Bucky sighs in relief.

Darkness comes again.

*****

We’ll meet again…don’t know where…don’t know when…but I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…

The melody flows like water inside his head and Bucky follows it slowly, swimming languidly into consciousness. When he breaks the surface, his brain comes to life, but his eyes stay closed.

It’s a trait he perfected over the years, waking up without anyone realizing. Back then, he’d quickly discovered if you’re flat on your back and don’t know where you are, your safest bet is certainly not to show them you’re awake. Once they know, you lose your advantage.

That’s usually when the pain starts.

Instead, he starts his internal assessment. Ears straining for any hint of sound, he waits, listening for anything. The intake of breath, a quiet sniffle, the whisper of fabric, a footfall. Anything. The silence stretches and he’s finally forced to conclude – either his captor is just that good, or he’s alone.

Cracking an eye, he draws a soundless breath, taking stock of his surroundings.

This is – interesting.

The room he’s in is dim, suffused with swaths of muted daylight streaming in through the massive window in front of the bed. His eyes track the expanse of clear glass, stretching from the floor, extending up the vaulted ceiling and ending in a wide skylight. A small fireplace is tucked into the corner, a basket of logs piled next to the dark slate tiles, and the soothing pop and crackle of wood lulls him toward a sense of false security.

Snow still falls outside, but it’s no longer the wailing blizzard; instead, fat, wet flakes drift quietly by, piling onto the tall evergreens hugging the window.

Feeling the silky sheen of satin against his skin, he peeks under the sheets to find himself nearly naked, wearing nothing more than a crisp white bandage and skin-tight boxers.

“What the sweet fuck is this shit?” he mutters, dropping the sheets and struggling to sit up. The bed is wide and covered in all shades of blue – a dusty blue duvet, sky blue sheets, a midnight blue quilt – and suddenly it all mixes into a watery blur when his vision goes sideways. Pain rips through him and he flops back, whining softly. Pressing gently against the bandage, the pain flares so fast, he digs his heels into the bed, spine arching unconsciously. He can feel it, actually feel it, the tugging sensation of his skin knitting itself back together. Sweat instantly pours down his face.

“Don’t scream,” he hisses through gritted teeth, “don’t scream you fuckin’ baby, don’t.”

Clamping his lips together, he swallows the sounds he’d desperately love to howl, focusing on counting the snowflakes drifting past the window. He loses count of the deep, calming breaths he takes and long minutes later, the worst appears to pass. For now. Bucky’s rigid muscles begin to relax.

He appreciates the whole healing fast thing, he really does, but the process is just fucking unpleasant.

Swinging his legs over the bed, toes curling into a plush rug, he wobbles to his feet. Looking around, he searches for his clothes, but he comes up empty handed. He doesn’t actually mind the lack of clothing, it’s more the lack of pockets for weapons that irritate him.

But a good solider can make a weapon from anything, so he snatches a log from the basket next to the fireplace, rotates his arm until the plates shift smoothly, and creeps from the bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the steps to the first level, he stops short.

The small town he’d infiltrated was derelict, gritty, downtrodden.

The home he finds himself inhabiting is the polar opposite.

Wooden steps lead down into a cosy stone and log cabin. The small kitchen has an island with a couple hand-hewn stools and an oak butcher block in the middle, burnished copper pots hanging from a rack above. The floor is a deep russet red, the wide-planked floorboards containing a myriad of knots and whorls. Above him, thick beams stretch the expanse of the room, with dark iron lighting fixtures casting a rosy glow through the room. In the centre wall of the living room, flanked with tall vertical windows, stands a fireplace, the uneven shapes of grey river rock fitting together seamlessly. From the tall windows, he has a clear view of a foggy mountain range. Another fire crackles and pops merrily in the calm silence.

A cracked white pitcher filled with pine boughs gives off a sharp, clean scent and Bucky finds himself struggling to remain overly vigilant, because it’s beautiful. It’s a home.

Beauty means nothing though. A lesson he learned the hard way through the years.

Slinking into the kitchen, he rummages through the silverware, turning up three finely sharpened knives. Two, he tucks into the elastic band of his boxers, feeling instant relief at the feel of the blades hugging his hip. The third, a large butcher knife, he flips around and holds outward, ready to swing.

Switching into stealth mode, he goes to work.

Rifling through kitchen cupboards and drawers. Lifting throw pillows and blankets from the sofa. Scanning rows of books arranged in alphabetical order. Searching a small linen closet. Ears perked for the sound of footsteps outside.

And yeah, he finds a few things.

A few weird things.

It starts in the small closet. Buried under a pile of quilts, he finds a heavy metal box. Pulling a bobby pin from the perpetual tangle of colorful hair-ties he keeps around his wrist, it takes a few tries before he has the lock picked. Lifting the lid reveals a perfectly folded pile of worn t-shirts. Shaking each out, he scans the logos – emblazoned across each one is a different city from Bon Jovi’s 1986 Slippery When Wet European tour.

They’re just old t-shirts, the kinds you find people hawking at concert venues or in the bargain bin at a thrift store. Nothing special or expensive. Yet here they are, folded into neat squares and tucked into a box that could probably withstand an explosion.

His confusion spirals, but Bucky fights a small smile. It seems odd, but hey, he really likes Bon Jovi too. Maybe he would do the same.

Re-folding the tissue thin cloth, he locks the box and stuffs it back in place.

Trying the bookcase next, he pulls books out, feeling behind them. Knuckles rap at random, tap, tap, tap, until he hears an unexpected thunk. The hollow sound gives it away and with a shove, he shifts the back panel and finds another small locked box. Holding it under his arm, he fiddles with the bobby pin again and the lid cracks. Two items appear.

A crushed red velvet jewelry bag.

A handful of cheap vintage postcards in a clear plastic bag.

Crouching to the floor, he shakes the contents of the jewelry bag free. A handful of silvery-blue pebbles clatter out and in the middle of the pile, a necklace. Bucky holds the worn chain up to the light. Spinning slowly on the end is a round disc, a little dingy and rubbed smooth, but he can see the outline.

Bucky wasn’t exactly a good little Catholic growing up, and yeah, religion wasn’t the sort of personal expression Hydra encouraged for the Soldier. His knowledge of saints was spotty as a kid and is extensively worse now, but he recognizes the medal – he knows Steve had one, wore it during the war and was wearing it when his plane went down. He donated it to the Smithsonian when he returned. Most of the military seemed to have one back then and Bucky assumes he had one as well, although he has no clue.

On the little medal, is the image of Saint Michael. The patron saint of Soldiers.

Fingering the medal pensively, he tries to summon a memory, any memory. He figures he must have something in there that could build off this particular war-related trinket.

But no. Just like always.

Setting it gently aside, he opens the clear bag instead. Pulling out the postcards, he lines them carefully up in front of him, internally translating the languages.

Covered with palm trees, an exuberant statement in French: Welcome to sunny Nice!

A colorful boulevard linked with green trees in Spanish stating: The Beauty of Barcelona

A laughing cartoon caricature of a man holding skis in Swiss German: Enjoy your Winter in Zurich

The solemn announcement in Italian, written over an image of the Coliseum: Hello from Rome: The Eternal City

Orange and red leaves, covering a giant beer stein in German: Oktoberfest in Munich!

And the dogged mantra of the stoic English, tall white letters against a soft pink backdrop: Keep Calm and Carry On

But the one that piques his interest the most, is last in the pile. A hand-painted postcard, the paint chipped and faded through time, of the Brooklyn Bridge at night. The title above in carefully printed letters reads: Brooklyn, New York – Thank God It’s Not Jersey. Bucky feels his heart stutter at the words, because he’s pretty god damn sure he and Steve used to throw out that same phrase.

On the back of the Brooklyn postcard, he finds the inked shapes of two hearts tangled together.

Bucky stares hard at the image, so simple but vibrating with some unknown meaning. Flipping through all the other cards, he finds them blank, nothing more than a pretty collection. Bewildered and careening toward frustrated anger, he gathers them together and slips them into the bag. He bangs the box shut and hides it away again.

He finds three more locked boxes in his search, each containing innocuous items. One with a thin, moth-eaten baby blanket. One with a random assortment of old Life magazines.

After stowing away the final box, housing an envelope with three sepia toned photos of a tall man and a small girl, he spends another ten minutes searching for clues. Finally, he’s convinced the room has shared all its secrets - until he notices the crease in the rug below the coffee table.

Shoving the table aside, Bucky flips up the rug. In the middle of the floor, he finds a plank of wood slightly thinner than the others, with a small chink in the edge. Crouching down, he runs his thumb around it and nudges it up, finding a hidden space below.

There he finds one more box. His beleaguered bobby pin gives a final brave attempt and with a quiet snick, the lock pops open.

Inside are three dusty books. Peeling gold letters line the spine of each, showing a single word, followed by three different numbers.

Journal, 1967 Journal, 1968 Journal, 1969

From the pages of 1969, a ticket stub flutters to the floor.

*****

Under the fall of lacy snowflakes, she walks. Circling the small cabin for hours, her toes are damn near frozen, but she finds herself unwilling to go back inside. He has to be waking soon and the thought of facing him makes her chest ache. Instead, she walks the narrow path along the bank of the rushing stream bordering her home and argues with herself.

Go inside. Ask him. Talk to him. See if he remembers. Tell him the truth! He deserves to know. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe he’ll just kill you and be done. Probably not though, you’re not that lucky.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up and she digs the puffy gloved heels of her palms into her eyes. She really needs to get out more. This constant talking to herself thing will get her institutionalized someday.

But she literally has no one else to talk to. And that right there, has always been the problem.

Brushing the snow from a giant boulder, she gingerly sits. Bending forward, she drops her head to her knees and wraps her arms around her legs, trying desperately not to give in to the panic attack threatening to drive its anxious fingers into her brain. Memories begin to swirl and even after all this time, the sound of his voice rises so easily to the surface, a sweet, drawling Brooklyn twang that turns her stomach to knots.

“Je vais avoir de la chance ce soir. Il y a de belles femmes en France qui ne m'aiment pas?”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Wait for me darlin’, okay? Will you? I’ll come back for you. I promise I will.”

“You’re what I want. You’re what I’m always gonna want.”

“You and me, this kind of love, it lasts forever, okay? It’s never gonna leave.”

“Dammit. Shit shit shit,” she chants to herself. Thick and heavy, the memories press down until she buckles under the burden of remembering. Tears begin to fall, hot trails down her face and she wipes them away, her hands shaking.

She stays on the frozen rock, letting time pass while the cold seeps through her clothes. The air is so icy, it makes her lungs seize.

*****

The butcher knife lays beside him, within easy reach. Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, flicking through the pages at random. He pauses now and then, digging deeper, losing himself in the faded ink of another’s life.

19 May, 1967

America is strange. I arrived in Los Angeles with no goal, just rented a car and drove. First to the coast and saw the ocean. It was different than the first time Papa took me – I’ve never seen anything so blue. I tried not to think about it, but it was in my head. It’s always there. Blue everywhere. The water, the sky, his eyes. I can never leave it behind.

The songs on the radio here, they’re different too. It feels like the heart of this country is screaming and I see why. Vietnam is different. This war, it’s unexplainable maybe, but there’s a frustrated weariness in the words.

But then again, is it really that different? No matter the fight, Soldiers still give their lives and leave their sweethearts crying in the streets. They promise to come home, that ridiculously naive optimism of youth, and instead they die in a battle they never wanted to join. It’s the universal truth of every fight, since the beginning of time. The tears should be enough to stop this all from happening, but no. War keeps coming, one after another, and soldiers answer the call.

I still remember what he said that night. It’s stayed with me more than anything else. They’ll run out of soldiers eventually, he said, like he was nothing more than a cheap commodity. He was so tired by the end. I should have helped him.

11 April, 1968

Last week I was walking by the book stalls down at the Seine and saw a bargain bin of English language books. I found a book of poetry and I swear to god, that damn thing fell open on this:

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good. W.H. Auden

I don’t think I could find a better articulation of my mood. Either Fate has something against me, or I’m just that unlucky. I bought it. I couldn’t help myself.

21 July, 1969

Sometimes, I think miracles do still exist in this world.

Down at an old hotel, the entire town was crowded in the dining room. They had a TV balanced up on a shelf so everyone could see and they caught the BBC1 broadcast. The entire room was dead silent. It was overwhelming, I can still hardly imagine it. A man walking on the moon!

The whole time I kept thinking how much he would have loved this. How he would have laughed. How he probably would have tried to sign up to be a spaceman! The more I remembered, the more I thought about that night by the river, after we first met. All those stars in the sky. Decades later and I still wonder about it – how it’s possible to be so in love with someone – but then again, how could anyone fail to love him? He was so warm, so full of life and excitement and dreams. God. We had so many dreams, so many plans for the future. We were so naïve, thinking the world might owe us a little happiness. What a joke.

And now here I am. Alone with nothing but memories – just like always. That life we wanted, it’s as far away as the moon. Unreachable and impossible.

1 January, 1970 We never He was I thought A Soldier with a metal arm?

The journal ends there.

Bucky looks at the ticket stub that fell from the delicate pages and the words bring forth a wavering reel of images, brand new and unfamiliar.

Moulin Rouge New Year’s Eve Ball Admittance: 1 Individual 31 December, 1969

The black lacquer of a piano. Silver sparkles reflecting from crystal chandeliers. The scent of fizzy champagne and the tang of blood and a dark apartment overlooking the twinkling lights of Paris.

Disoriented, Bucky sets the book down. What the hell is this? Who is she? She must be Hydra, she has to be. How else would she know the Soldier? Why did she take him, what does she want? Why does she have journals from so long ago, what do they mean?

It’s the eternal tragedy of his god damn life – always questions, never answers. He looks around the warm, peaceful little cabin and scrubs his hands down his face. He needs to plot his next move, but the bullet wounds throb with fresh, fiery pain and he’s suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted.

So, he remains seated, surrounded by pages upon pages from someone else’s life.

Blinking back frustrated tears as he stares at the books, he knows without a doubt, that these three years of writing hold more memories than he could conjure in the lifetime he’s lived.

Distantly, he hears the slow crunch of boots on snow. Rousing himself from the miserable train of thought, he scrambles to his feet, turning to face the front door when footsteps hit the porch steps and begin to climb.

Bucky wipes the tears from his eyes. And he lifts his knife.

*****

Pacing back and forth across the small porch, she stops in front of the door and reaches for the handle.

And draws away again. Curses and keeps pacing. Tries again, pulls back.

“Open the door, you god damn coward,” she whispers harshly.

Squaring her shoulders, she turns the knob and pushes it open before she can lose her nerve. Stepping inside, the room is silent, just as she left it. Orange flames flicker in the fireplace, the smell of smoky wood and pine needles hangs in the air. She shuts the door quietly, shakes out her coat and hangs it on the rack. Taps the snow from her boots and unwinds her scarf. Rubbing her temples, she takes a deep breath and starts for the stairs, determined to face him.

She takes three steps, before the wind is knocked clean from her lungs.

The heavy body hits her from behind, one arm curling around her chest, the other pressing her butcher knife against her throat. The voice in her ear is so gut wrenchingly familiar, she nearly faints.

“Leaving a strange man alone in your bed with access to knives – not your best move.”

When he was lying unconscious wrapped in her quilts, she thought he seemed smaller than she remembered. Now, the breadth of his body against her back makes her realize just how wrong that assessment was.

“Yes. I should have hidden the knives,” she tries to speak. “Something to remember next time.”

“Tell me who the fuck you are.”

She should be terrified right now. The most prolific assassin of the 20th century has a razor-sharp blade sitting at her throat and a metal arm digging into her chest. With the slightest move, he could crush her lungs or slit her throat. He wouldn’t even have to try.

She should be terrified, but she’s not. Because the years, the decades, have been nothing more than an empty echo without him, and now he’s here. Against all odds, he is here with her. Relaxing in his arms, she leans back and closes her eyes.

Bucky stiffens abruptly at the movement.

Her hand floats up and reaches for the wrist flexing at her throat. She feels his grip tighten further, but for some reason, he allows her curious touch. Fingers trembling, they find the thin ridge, running down the long white scar curving from his right thumb across the back of his hand.

It’s nothing more than a gentle caress, but –

Like a hammer to his skull, his head splits head open. With a frightened snarl, he shoves her away and she stumbles forward, catching herself against the sofa. Slowly, she turns to face him fully.

Dark hair frames his face in sweaty tangles and his blue eyes are wild.

“What the fucking hell was that?” he hisses. The knife is held outward and he scratches at the scar, trying to scrub away her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she says, rubbing her throat. “I wasn’t – I’m sorry.”

“How the hell did I get here?” Bucky barks. “Last thing I remember, I was gut shot and bleeding out in a god damn blizzard.”

“I found you. Brought you here.”

“Yeah, obviously. Except I’m fuckin’ heavy and no offense, but you don’t look much like a super soldier. So, I’ll ask again - how the hell did I get here? Who else is working with you?”

“No one, it’s just me. And I’m not working. You – I don’t know, you just followed me. When you collapsed in the snow, I rolled you over and shouted your name, and your eyes just – they opened and you got to your feet.”

Bucky glares at her. “Convenient, that you knew my name. And how to wake me up.”

Jaw clenching, she glares back now. “I didn’t know how to wake you up. You were bleeding everywhere, but you stood there like you were waiting for something.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he grimaces. He thinks he knows what’s coming.

“Say I believe you. Then what?”

“You asked for instructions, so I told you to get in my truck and I brought you here. I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I wasn’t sure what to do. When we got here, you wouldn’t go upstairs. You just laid down on the dining table and – ”

She pauses, but he sighs resignedly. “Keep going.”

“Both bullets, they were still – inside. I had to dig them out. I got bandages and tried to stitch up the wound. You were awake, I thought you were awake, the entire time. You were telling me what to do. Kept asking if – you kept asking if I was new.”

Bucky feels his face heat in embarrassment. Shifting uncomfortably, he grudgingly explains. “That was a secondary protocol. Something happens to the Asset, it’s programmed – I mean I was programmed - to help fix the problem.”

The cabin is quiet for a drawn-out moment.

“Oh,” she finally says. Her voice sounds small.

“So? You’re former Hydra then?”

She blanches at the comment. “What? No! I was never with them.”

“Really,” Bucky says sarcastically. “You just happened upon me and knew my name and brought me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere for no reason? That was all just luck?”

“Stop being a jerk. I said I don’t work for them,” she snaps, anger seeping into her voice. “I’d slit my own throat first.”

Bucky goes quiet, considering the statement. His loses some of the hostility when he replies, but his tone is still suspicious. “But we know each other. You know him. Or – me. The Soldier.”

“Yes. I know the – Soldier.”

“Well, I don’t remember you,” Bucky says harshly, and he watches her face fall. He feels a pang of remorse at her disappointment and almost points out that she’s not unique, he never remembers. But he holds his tongue.

Eyes dropped to the floor, her shoulders sag. “I didn’t expect you would.”

An awkward silence fills the room. Bucky feels that strange ache in his chest once again, a desire to smooth the unhappiness from her face, and an apology tumbles from his lips.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember. Trust me, it’s definitely not you.”

“No. Please don’t apologize,” she says quickly, looking up. She shakes her head like she wants to say something more; instead, she swallows the words and offers an olive branch. “Do you want to know? I mean - do you want me to tell you?”

Bucky considers the offer. Before him stands a lovely woman. One who knew the Soldier, who met the worst incarnation of himself, but without the security of Hydra to help her. He comes to a swift, depressing conclusion.

Chances are, he did something shitty to her.

Does he want to know then? Does he really need another gruesome memory clogging up his brain?

Sure. Because Bucky never knows when to quit.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”

“Okay, I can do that,” she says softly. She motions him to sit on the couch, but Bucky hesitates.

“Can I, uh, have some pants first?” He asks stiffly. “This is sort of awkward.”

The surprise on her face makes Bucky think for one fleeting moment that she might laugh. But then she nods and disappears through a small room off the kitchen. When she returns, she’s holding a neatly folded stack of fresh laundry and he recognizes the contents of his backpack.

“Here,” she sets it cautiously on the dining table. “I’m sorry I went through your bag, I didn’t have any men’s clothing, so…anyway, I washed it all.”

Bucky snatches his ragged Captain America t-shirt and black sweats from the top of the pile, shimmying into them. Pulling a rainbow colored band off his wrist, he ties his hair back and drops to the couch.

She takes the armchair across from him, as far away as she can get in the small living room, and tucks her hands under her legs. Bucky knows he’s unlikely to enjoy whatever she has to say, but he folds his fingers together and waits. She stares down at her feet, appearing to gather her courage before meeting his grim stare head on.

Her voice is steady, as she starts to speak.

“Paris was cold that December and it snowed early. It was New Year’s Eve in 1969.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 187: Arabian Nights

A portal opened in the desert of Agrabah and deposited the four of them. Summer and Bobby looked around in wonder, as they had arrived on a cliff side overlooking an incredible, expansive city.

"Wow...so this is Agrabah?" Bobby asked. Snow and David smiled, as they joined hands.

"It is...and that's the palace," David replied, as he and Snow shared a smile at the wide eyes of their children, for they were seeing their beloved book that they had been raised with come to life before their eyes. Now, they would begin the journey of consulting all the Kingdoms and then bringing everyone in their nine realms of story together.

"I think we better have a change of wardrobe though. Our Storybrooke attire is a little out of place," Snow mentioned, as she pulled the Chalice out of her bag. She used its magic to give them Enchanted Forest clothes so they would look the part of the visiting dignitaries that they were.

Summer's outfit consisted of a deep purple colored leather tunic and gray pants, complete with slate colored riding boots. For David, she chose a crimson leather tunic with gold trim, black leather pants, and riding boots. For Bobby, she chose a tunic was much the same color as Charming's, but she had put cloth pants on her son. And she chose her favorite new attire for herself; her white warrior-Goddess type tunic dress and knee high white riding boots.

"There...now we can go," Snow said, as they made their way down into the city and mingled in the busy Agrabahn marketplace. They eventually found their way through the marketplace and to the gateway to the palace.

Naturally, they were stopped by the guards when they reached that point.

"No one passes into the palace," the guard stated gruffly.

"We're friends of Princess Jasmine and visiting royals," Snow responded regally.

"We've been told of no visiting royals," the guard responded.

"Then you should inform Princess Jasmine that Queen Snow and King David are here. Let her decide if she would like an audience with us," Snow said authoritatively.

"Look woman…" the guard said dangerously, as he attempted to intimidate her. David glared at him and put a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Stand down Aziz...I've seen Queen Snow use a bow and a sword for that matter. She'll destroy you," Jasmine commented, as she appeared with her pet tiger, Raj, on one side and Aladdin on the other. Snow smiled and they rushed to hug each other, as the guards all took a knee. Jasmine pulled back and gasped when she saw the kids.

"This can't be Bobby...he was just a baby the last time I saw him," she exclaimed, as the boy gave her a sheepish look.

"I know...it's been a while," Snow mentioned.

"And Summer...look at you! You're practically grown!" she added, as they hugged, while David and Aladdin shook hands.

"It's great to see you all again," Aladdin said.

"You too...we actually have something exciting to discuss with you both and your father," he told Jasmine. But her face was marred with a bit of sadness and Snow frowned.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. Jasmine nodded.

"Father's health isn't the best these days," she mentioned.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Snow offered.

"Thank you...but he will be happy to see you both and he'll insist in a grand dinner this evening. Perhaps you'll join us and we can discuss your news," Jasmine offered. Snow smiled.

"We'd like that," she agreed. They were led into the palace and given very lavish quarters they gave to visiting royals. The chambers had a sitting room, complete with plush furniture and large, plush pillows on the floor. Then there were three separate bedrooms all with washrooms as well.

"Wow...you can see the entire city from this balcony!" Bobby mentioned excitedly, as he and Summer rushed out to look. Snow and David put their arms around each other and watched them fondly. One of the servants informed them at that point that dinner would be served soon and Snow called the kids back in.

"Okay you two...this is a formal dinner, so we need to dress the part," Snow said, as she went to the closet to look at the attire that was provided for royal visitors/

"But...aren't we already dressed formally?" Bobby asked. David smiled and chuckled. They had adapted to life in Storybrooke without much of the royal pomp and circumstance, so they hadn't really felt the need to teach the kids about this stuff. After all, travel between realms had not been easy and for many years, they thought that Storybrooke would be it for them.

"These are formal traveling clothes. We need formal dinner and ball type dress, which here in Agrabah is attire that is still formal, but a bit lighter and more airy due to the climate," Snow admonished.

"Is it going to be itchy and uncomfortable like that dumb tux you made me wear to Henry's wedding when I was seven?" Bobby asked. Snow shot him her best mom look and he shrunk back.

"I mean...it was great, but itchy and the bow tie was awesome," he offered unconvincingly.

"Stop digging yourself deeper, kid," David admonished, as Snow gave them an amused look.

"You'll survive," Snow said, as she picked out something for her son. She went about picking out the rest of their outfits and they proceeded to get ready for the evening ahead.

~*~

Fandral sat beside his wife in his Throne, as she addressed their court from her Throne. She was informing them of the coming merger of the realms and her decision that they would be a part of this new undertaking. Fandral didn't have much patience with some of the elder members of her court. They were too stuck in the ways of old and had once supported her Uncle, King John's, tyrannical rule without question. They claimed they were afraid to go against him, but Fandral knew their fear of John had little to do with it. Her Uncle was capable of being ruthless, as well as greedy, irrational, and even evil. But he was also a man child that threw tantrums when he didn't get his way, so he was skeptical about how much fear he really invoked.

No, fear had little to do with their support of him. They spent their years under John lining their pockets with gold and getting richer, while the people suffered and poverty grew. When they unseated John, he was sure that her court was going to try and exert control and intimidation over Rose disguised as "advice". But he had watched with pride as she entertained none of their nonsense. She had put every single one of them in their place and promised that, under no circumstances, would her Uncle's policies and dictation continue. She no longer allowed them to tax her people into poverty, while stockpiling their hard earned gold in their own accounts. And twenty-years since they had taken the Kingdom back, their people were prospering. They trusted Rose and Fandral and he expected the news that they would be going to a realm where the opportunities for further prosperity would be well received by them. But her court was going to be stubborn as usual and attempt to exert some kind of control. How he loathed how they spoke to her, but his Rose let none of it bother her; the sign of the true Queen she was.

"My Queen...if I may," the Duke interjected.

"You have the floor Duke Gantry," Rose allowed.

"I understand your friendships with these...people are important to you, my Queen. But do you really feel that moving our entire Kingdom to a new land is the best idea?" he questioned.

"This has much more to do with than just friendships. This new land has opportunities that our world does not. And we're not leaving this land at all. We're bringing it with us too," Rose said.

"My wife is correct. The modern medicine alone will increase the life expectancy of our people exponentially," Fandral chimed in and she nodded to him.

"But there are sorcerer's and mediums that can be consulted for magical cures," the Duke reminded. Fandral could see his wife suppressing an eye roll, as she often had to do in the presence of her court.

"Magic always comes with a price and most of our people cannot afford the amount of gold or willing to give up their first child in exchange for magical favors. And it is absurd to let charlatans like that hold their magic over our heads as they often do," Rose admonished.

"Yes...in Storybrooke, medicine and care is widely available for everyone at little or even no cost. Queen Snow and Queen Mother Regina have developed programs to make sure even those with no funds can receive the care they need," Fandral added.

"It seems that Queen Snow relies much on charity to serve her people," the Duke stated distastefully.

"Providing adequate care for her people or ours is not charity," Rose said sternly.

"And medical advancement is not the only reason we will benefit. The educational opportunities in this new land are far superior as well and offered to people of all backgrounds and classes," she added.

"And there is no talking you out of this move?" the Duke questioned with a stern stare and Fandral had to smirk, as his wife returned his stern stare. As expected, he withered a bit under the Queen's stare and backed down.

"No...because this move will ensure prosperity for our people for all time," she declared. Fandral smiled at her and slipped his hand into hers. It didn't matter what her greedy court thought. This was a very good move for them and their people. He knew that Rose hoped they could see beyond their greed, but he had lived long enough to know that people like them would not. But that didn't matter either, for they wouldn't let a tyrannical rule like her Uncle's have control of the fate of their people again. And the uniting of the realms was the next step in their prosperity.

~*~

Boston

2018

Cecily looked around the penthouse apartment with an air of scrutiny and then shrugged.

"I suppose this will do," she said.

"It's a far cry from Federal Prison, which is still a possibility if you don't give me a good story," the Major reminded. Cecily smirked.

"Trust me...I've got your story. That is...if you got me what I asked for," she replied. One of the Major's subordinates handed her a paper bag and she extracted a white book from it, emblazoned with the words "Once Upon a Time".

"I'm failing to see how a copy of a book of fairy tales by a nobody author is going to be what I want to hear," she replied, as she tossed the book to Cecily. The dark haired woman smirked.

"Henry Swan is not a nobody author...he is the author and this book, though a copy, will tell you everything you want to know about the Nolans. Or as I know them...the Charmings," she responded, as she sat down and flipped the book open.

"If you want to know how David Nolan, who hasn't aged a day in thirty-fives years, ended up on the side of the road in 1983 with his infant daughter...then you only need to start at the beginning," Cecily told her, as she showed the woman the illustration. The Major scanned the text and noticed that it matched up with the events in the police report from that night.

"Start telling me everything," she ordered.

~*~

Storybrooke

Present day - 2023

"...I just keep telling myself that it's not a big deal. It was a curse...but I still woke up last night in a cold sweat," Leo explained, as he sat on Archie's couch.

"You were reliving the assault," Archie surmised.

"Was it really assault though? I didn't say no...I even reciprocated," he muttered.

"Yes, it was assault and you know that. You're trying to blame the victim here and that victim is you," Archie replied.

"The curse stole your ability to say no...but Jack was in possession of all his faculties. He knew you would never consent to sex with him if you had your memories. That's rape," the ginger haired man added.

"I know…" Leo admitted.

"I just want to move on from this," he added.

"Admitting it is the first step and your assaulter has received justice for what he did. The best way to move on is to find happiness," Archie advised.

"I have...I'm in love with Elsa," Leo said. Archie grinned at that.

"Then I don't think I have to tell you that love will heal those wounds that Jack inflicted upon you emotionally and psychologically," he replied. Leo nodded, smiling slightly.

"Mom and Dad always say that love heals. I know that I'm not the only one having nightmares. I know that my mom is still having them from her time being locked up in the mental hospital," he said.

"And like you, your mother will be seeing me for therapy and I'm glad you both are getting help with what you've been through," Archie replied. Leo nodded and stood up.

"Thanks...this really helped. I didn't want to admit that I was raped, but I was and I think I can move on now," the blonde said.

"Then the man that victimized you has truly lost in every way possible. He did what he did to you, because of his hatred of magic and his need to exert control over you, because of that hatred. But he loses when he no longer has power and I think you'll find now that you have accepted that you had no ownership in what he did to you...the nightmares will lessen. They won't stop completely right away...but they will stop eventually," Archie promised. Leo nodded, feeling more and more certain by the minute.

"Thanks Archie," he said, as his session ended and he left, feeling a bit of weight lifted off him, as he finally accepted what had happened to him and that it was out of his control.

The healing process was far from over, but he had a very loving family that he knew would help him get through anything. Not to mention his girlfriend and it helped knowing that they would soon be in the same place. That complication to their relationship was soon going to be a thing of the past and now that he was able to look forward and move on, he knew exactly how he wanted to begin doing that. So he made the short trek to the pawn shop.

The bell on the shop chimed, as Leo stepped into the pawn shop that afternoon with Graham beside him. Belle smiled from behind the counter and Gideon ran out to hug both Leo and his wolf.

"Hey buddy…" Leo greeted, as he ruffled the boy's hair.

"How are you, Leo?" Belle asked. He sighed, but nodded with a smile.

"Good...better than I have been in a long time. I...I just saw Archie. I promised my parents I would start seeing him after...after what Jack did," he mentioned. Belle squeezed his hand.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, sweetie. I think it's really good that you're talking about it though," she said. Gold nodded.

"And Jack got what he deserved," he added. Leo nodded.

"He did...but I'm ready to move on and that's kind of why I'm here. I hope you can help," he replied. Belle smiled.

"I hope we can too. What do you need?" Belle asked.

"Well...I'm here to pick out an engagement ring," he announced. Belle gasped and then hurried around the counter so she could hug him.

"Oh Leo...you're going to propose to Elsa?" she asked. He nodded, as he looked down shyly.

"Yeah...I've been wanting to for a while now, even before the mess with the curse. And since we're not going to have the conundrum of living in different realms between us...I don't want to waste anymore time," he said.

"You lost two years with her...even if she only lost days," Belle realized. He nodded.

"Then you need the right ring...and I think I might have the one," Rumple chimed in, as he led them to his jewelry case, which had an impressive assortment of rings.

"This is a rare white sapphire," Rumple said, as he pulled out the impressive ring, which was transparent in color like a diamond, but had a slight pale blue tint to it.

"Wow...it's even got a light blue tint to it. It's perfect," Leo said.

"Not quite...for Elsa, we should add an enchantment," Rumple replied, as he waved his hand over the ring and a tiny snowflake appeared inside the ring. Leo grinned.

"You're right...that's even better. I'll take it," he said.

"Have you told your parents yet?" Belle asked.

"Not yet...I'm going to propose first and then we'll tell them. I figure that will be the easiest way to make sure my Mom only throws one party," Leo joked. Belle giggled.

"You laugh, but I'm serious. If I tell her before, she'll want to throw a pre-engagement party, an engagement party, and then a post engagement party," he added.

"She's not that bad," Belle chided.

"Yes she is," Rumple chimed in.

"You know he's right. She did a carnival when Henry graduated and wanted us to all sing at Emma's wedding," he reminded, as they chuckled. Leo paid for the ring and Belle found a small, blue velvet box for it.

"Congratulations," she offered.

"She hasn't said yes yet," he reminded, but Belle only smiled.

"But she will," she said confidently. He grinned and waved, as he left to be on his way back to the reserve.

~*~

The three of them waited for Snow to finish getting ready, as she had picked out their attire before getting ready herself. Their clothing was made of much lighter and airy material than they were used to, but they definitely looked the part of visiting dignitaries participating in local dress. Snow came out in a crimson satin dress that had gold accents. The dress was sleeveless and she wore a tiara, signifying her status as a visiting Queen.

"Wow…" David uttered as he put his arms around her and she did some admiring of her own, as his own crimson tunic dipped in a v His tunic was a mix of satin and cloth, with gold accents and his black pants were cloth as well, since the climate was a bit too warm for leather. Summer's dress was very similar to Snow's, except it was a deep purple color with silver accents. And Bobby wore a very similar outfit to David's too, only his

Dark blue with silver accents.

With that, they exited their chambers and made their way to the main dining hall. The Sultan was seated at the head of the table, to which Snow and David offered a bow of respect. Their two children followed suit and the Sultan waved them over.

"It is wonderful to welcome you both back to my Kingdom. Last time, we did not get to celebrate how you helped save my Kingdom from Abis Mal and Jafar," the Sultan praised.

"We're excited that we could finally return too, Your Majesty," Snow said.

"You have brought your young ones," he mentioned, as he took interest in the children.

"Yes, Your Majesty. This is our daughter Summer and our son Bobby," David replied, as their children bowed respectfully.

"Welcome young ones...perhaps you'll join me in a treat of a little baklava," he said, motioning to the plate of confections in front of him. Summer and Bobby smiled, as they tried some, as the Sultan enjoyed some too.

"Father...not too many sweets. It's not good for you," Jasmine chided.

"Bah...I'm an old man, my daughter. If I'm going to go...then I'm going to go enjoying myself," he argued. She sighed.

"Do you know what his illness is?" Snow whispered to her.

"No...but Aladdin says he has suspicions from his time in your land," she replied.

"He's always thirsty, his sight is diminishing...so if I had to guess, he's at least diabetic and I'm sure there are a slew of other things, most of which are at least treatable back in Storybrooke," Aladdin told them.

"You know he'd never agree to go. That's why he's been busy making preparations changing the laws," Jasmine added.

"Changing the laws?" Snow asked. Jasmine smiled.

"Well, as you know, Agrabah has a bit of a chauvinistic past. Aladdin and I are married now, but even though I am royal by blood, the current law would not allow me to become Sultan. It must be a man or my husband," she explained.

"Which isn't fair. Jasmine deserves to lead Agrabah. I'm more than happy to rule with her, but I don't want a job that should definitely be hers simply because I'm a man," Aladdin added, as they shared a smile.

"She loves this Kingdom and her people. She should be Sultan," he said.

"Father agrees. I told him that we could improve his health if we visited Storybrooke, but he does not like the idea of traveling to another realm," Jasmine replied. Snow and Charming exchanged a glance.

"What if we told you that there is a way that you might not have to and that modern medicine could soon be available to all your people, regardless of income or class?" Snow questioned. Jasmine looked at her in surprise.

"I'd want to know how," she replied.

"Me too," the Sultan chimed in, as Snow nodded and began to explain her plan for uniting the realms.

~*~

The Queen regarded the woman, as she swept into the room.

"Mim...let me guess, you're here because of Merlin," she stated. At the mention of that name, Madam Mim nearly got red faced and stalked toward the newcomer.

"Don't tell me that smooth talking hack is the reason you're here too?" she questioned. The Queen smirked.

"No...I'm sure you'll be happy to know that he's dead. I'm here, because of a good-hearted, fair little princess that has a big mouth and the true love she shares with her idiot husband," the Queen answered. Mim smirked.

"Defeated by true love...how embarrassing," she teased. The Queen clenched her teeth.

"This was no ordinary true love...this was a love championed by the Gods of Olympus," the Queen snarled.

"Let me guess...the truest love in all the realms," a voice said distastefully. The Queen looked intrigued by his obvious knowledge.

"Yes...how did you know?" she questioned.

"Because I was once a proud warrior and brother in arms to Nezha or better known as the mighty Dragon King," he replied.

"Ah...one half of the second pair of truest loves," she recalled.

"Yes...we were brothers in arms and we conquered the lands. The people worshiped us like the dragon Gods we were...until she came along and changed him," he spat.

"My mother always told me that love is weakness," the Queen said.

"And it was for him. She was a Princess from a mysterious island Kingdom and softened his heart. They married and began a benevolent rule. I was constantly chastised for my violent nature. But the last straw was when that Olympus harlot deemed me unworthy of being their Guardian. Instead, Sun Wu, a legendary dragon warrior was chosen as the Guardian instead," he explained.

"He was an incredible warrior, but a simpleton. I challenged him in battle and lost. The Dragon King cast me out and I was exiled through a portal he opened up using his Dragon staff. I ended up here," he continued.

"Sounds similar to my exile. The next truest loves saw to it that I was exiled too," she responded.

"Then we have much in common. I am Shan Yu," he introduced.

"The Evil Queen," she said. Amora scoffed.

"There is no way love could be that powerful...it's absurd," she commented.

"I'd like to agree, but I'm afraid they are quite powerful and to the point that it defies logic most of the time," the Queen reasoned, as she clenched her fist.

"What I wouldn't give to find a way to return to Storybrooke and crush them both," she hissed.

"That won't be happening. If you haven't noticed, there is no escape from this place," Mephisto chimed in.

"Or perhaps there is…" Mim interjected.

"What are you talking about? Not even the all powerful supposed great Pharaoh is able to escape this place," Amora retorted.

"Before now, it would have been impossible...but now there may be hope," Mim responded.

"Hope...please don't use that word," the Queen said distastefully, but she was ignored.

"By hope..you mean there might actually be a way to return to a living world?" Mephisto questioned with great interest.

"We were always told it was impossible," Amora agreed.

"It was...until now," Mim stated, as she looked at the Queen.

"As much as I'd like to leave whatever this place is...I don't know how," she refuted.

"We will not be leaving this place," a new voice said. It was deep and powerful, which matched the imposing figure that entered the room. The man wore a typical looking armor and head dress that one might expect of an ancient Pharaoh. He held a gold and blue scepter in his hand. The top of the staff had a frightening bronzed jackal head with glowing emerald eyes and the end of the scepter had a forked end.

"We will be taking this place with us when you cast another curse, Queen Regina," he continued.

"And who are you exactly?" she questioned in return. Mim shot a pulse of magic at the Queen and forced her to her knees before him.

"Show some respect!" she demanded.

"It is okay, Mim...she has a right to know the identity of the man that will soon be the Supreme ruler of the remaining nine realms from which we hail," he said, as the Queen got to her feet.

"I am Seth...ancient God of evil. Ten thousand years ago, the Olympians could not kill me, so they banished me here to Nephilim. But with your help, Queen Regina, we can all have our revenge on the heroes that have wronged us..."

~*~

"And that, is essentially the plan we are proposing to all the Kingdoms. It's a chance to unite our Kingdoms and provide the best life for all our people. The land that Storybrooke resides in has unique advantages that this one doesn't," Snow purported.

"And you expect us to believe that this medical science, as you call it, can treat the Sultan's ailments and succeed where magic potions have not?" The Sultan's new Vizier questioned.

"Magic can do a great many things, some that possibly even science cannot. But when it comes to medicine, the advancements we have in Storybrooke are superior," Snow said.

"She's right...our daughter is a true prodigy when it comes to medicine and has a gift like none that has ever been seen. She combines the practices of magic and science to a level that is nothing short of remarkable. If anyone can help improve the Sultan's health and quality of life, as well as the lives and health of all the people, it's our daughter Eva and our son-in-law, Paul," David added.

"And there are more benefits than just medicine. Long ago, all the ten realms in our sector were one. We do not know what cataclysm tore them apart, but we feel that it is our duty to unite the realms as they once were and we feel that this will create a lasting peace," Snow implored.

"And you lived in this place for many years, Aladdin?" The Sultan questioned. He smiled.

"I did, Your Majesty, and I can attest that it's true. The educational opportunities alone make it worth it, but the medicine and technology improve people's lives. What are considered serious ailments to us here are minor, treatable, and sometimes even preventable diseases there," Aladdin stated.

"And from my little time there, it seemed like a wonderful place to raise a family," Jasmine added.

"As future Sultan, it is your decision, my daughter," the Sultan said, as he smiled at her.

"And my support is behind this completely," he added. Jasmine smiled and hugged him.

"Then you can count on Agrabah wanting a part in this relocation," she announced, as she and Snow hugged.

"This calls for celebration!" The Sultan announced, as music began to play. Snow and David didn't waste an opportunity and joined Aladdin and Jasmine, as well as many others, on the dance floor to participate in a traditional Agrabahn dance.

~*~

That evening, after putting the children to bed, Rose and Fandral took an evening stroll through their lush gardens in the palace courtyard. Rose loved being in the gardens at any time, but under the moonlight was possibly her favorite time, for her favorite flower always bloomed in the moonlight. The midnight Irises were a rare breed that only grew, as a rule, in the edge of realms. But on one of their many journeys there, they had brought some seeds back with them and cultivated them in her garden. They were not easy to grow and required a lot of tending to, but she loved days where she got to spend so much time in the gardens. It was where they had fallen in love, after all and realized their feelings. So spending an evening in her husband's arms among the blooming midnight Irises was the definition of the perfect evening.

Fandral gently trailed soft kisses along her neck, as they lay together on a blanket beneath the stars.

"I love you so much…" he rasped, as he still marveled at how perfectly she fit in his arms.

"I still do not know who smiled upon me and deemed me worthy of you, my angel," he added.

"I got pretty lucky myself, my handsome warrior. I don't like to think about what would have happened to me had you not come into my life. My Uncle might have succeeded into forcing me into a loveless marriage with some horrible Duke or Lord of some kind," she told him.

"Mmm...perhaps we can say that we saved each other. I know that you saved me and not just from a mortal wound. You've made me a better man," he confessed.

"And you've made me happier than I ever imagined," she said, as their lips met passionately.

"Mmm...do you know what tomorrow is?" She asked playfully.

"Oh, I could never forget. It is exactly twenty-years since you gave me true love's kiss, broke that dreadful curse, and we escaped the Land of Untold Stories," he replied. She smiled, as he kissed her again.

"That day started out very scary, but it had a very happy ending," she recalled fondly, as she remembered their escape and then a very extended reunion once they made it through the portal.

~*~

Flashback

Twenty-years ago

The muscles in her legs burned in protest, as she and Hyde ran beyond the marketplace and into the vast woods surrounding the asylum. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing was ragged, but she would not stop, for the life of her beloved hung in the balance. Hyde pulled her along, as he could run much faster and cover greater lengths with his longer legs. She heard a ferocious roar in the distance and the sound of arrows thwacking into what she could only hope were trees.

They finally reached the next clearing, where three hunters had a monstrous looking bear cornered.

"STOP!" Rose pleaded, as they threaded their arrows again. But she was ignored. Hyde stepped forward.

"You will call off your arrows now," he ordered.

"You may rule the asylum, warden, but out here...this is our domain," one of them spat in return. Hyde advanced and the man shot an arrow, which was easily caught by the former and broken in half like nothing.

"If you do not want to find yourselves locked up in my asylum, then you will stand down," he growled. The three of them backed away, as Rose cautiously approached the bear.

"Fandral…" she uttered.

"That wench is crazy!" one of the hunter's exclaimed, capturing the bear's attention, as it growled.

"The next word any of you utter will be your last if you speak again," Hyde threatened, silencing them.

"Fandral...please…" Rose pleaded. The bear looked at her intently and slowly sat back on his haunches. She smiled.

"Yes Fandral...it's me," she said softly. She heard Hyde grimace behind her and hold her head.

"Rose...you must break the curse. Hurry…" he pleaded, as Jekyll started to fight his way out. She turned back and saw the bear gazing at her with a tenderness.

"You'll need this...to escape back to your land! I...acquired it for you," Hyde bit out, as he struggled to get the words out and tossed the ornate looking key at her feet. She picked it up and looked back at the bear, just as Jekyll emerged.

"No...kill it!" the ordered, as the hunters raised their bows. But Rose's lips touched the bear's nose and a wave of rainbow magic exploded forth from them. There was a blinding flash then, as the bear morphed into a humanoid form, breaking the curse on Fandral and returning him to his true state.

"Rose…" he breathed. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Fandral…" she squeaked, as he took her in his arms again at last.

"No...Rose, we belong together!" Jekyll pleaded. She looked at him with fear and tears in her eyes, as she clung to her beloved.

"Rose...who is this?" Fandral asked.

"He is someone I thought was a friend...but turned out to be a monster," she answered.

"Hyde is the monster! He's turned you against me, please Rose!" Jekyll pleaded, as he stepped toward them. In a move that was almost faster than the eye could see, Fandral brandished his sword and kept the doctor at bay. But the look in Jekyll's eyes was pure madness.

"Shoot him!" the doctor ordered to the hunters. They raised their bows, but Fandral expertly blocked all the arrows with his sword.

"You'll have to do better than that against an Asgardian, gents," Fandral commented, as Rose used the key Hyde had given her and a glowing doorway appeared.

"My love…" she called, as he took her hand and they fled through the door, leaving the crazed doctor behind. Jekyll let out a cry of anguish and frustration.

The door opened and deposited them back in their homeland and Rose nearly collapsed in relief against her husband.

"Oh Rose…" he uttered, as he swept her into his arms and spun her around.

"You saved me...again!" he exclaimed, but noticed the haunted look in her eyes.

"I've missed you…" she cried brokenly, as he held her tightly.

"Oh my angel...what has happened? Who was that man? Did he hurt you?" Fandral asked, with an edge in his voice at the last question. If that bespectacled man had hurt her, then he would use that key to return and avenge his beloved.

"No...he tried. It's a long story, but I'm fine," she assured, but he didn't look convinced.

"Please my love...I finally have you back and that is all I need," she promised, as he pulled her close again.

"I want you to tell me everything that has happened," he said, as he cupped her beautiful face in his hands.

"There will be no bottling your feelings on this...I'm here now. You saved me and I shall save you from the emotional turmoil that I sense in you, my darling Rose," he added. A few tears slipped down her cheeks and she relished his embrace, almost wondering if she was dreaming. The last few months without him had been excruciating, especially the cold nights. But that was over now and she knew that everything she had gone through was worth it for him. And now she could take comfort in him.

"I will tell you everything...but right now I just want you to hold me and kiss me," she requested and he gladly obliged, as he held her flush against him and kissed her with wanton passion.

"And I want to find a quiet place to camp for the night under the stars and then I want my husband to make love to me," she added desperately when their lips parted. And she wasn't surprised when he swept her into his arms like she weighed nothing and carried her off into the forest.

~*~

Rose's cheeks still colored at the memories of that impassioned night beneath the stars. The next day, they had revealed that they were back to their allies and waged the attack on her evil Uncle. They had won the battle and forced him and Sir Hiss to flee the realm. They took her Kingdom back and began what was a prosperous rule.

"You helped me through what Jekyll almost did to me and I will help you through the emotions I know you are feeling at what your people have gone through," she promised, as she rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled and kissed her hair.

"I know you will, my angel. I know I can get through anything with you by my side," he promised in return, as they continued to gaze up at the stars, safely ensconced in each other's protective embrace...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #original season 8 storyline #the united realms #Fandral the Dashing #Rose Red #Dashing Rose #background Rumbelle #background OQ #background CS #romance #adventure #family #finding you always #the epic continues

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themadamelibrarian · 5 years

Text

Sweater Weather - Part 1 of Incense and Peppermint

Written By: @themadamelibrarian & @thenanahunter Titlecard by @atc74 Rating: Mature Relationships: Gabriel (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Gabriel, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dean in Hell, Visions in dreams, Christmas Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut Summary: All Gabriel wanted to do was protect her. To keep her from the machinations of Hell but what he wants and what his Father wills are two different things. Will he lose Anna because his family wants to tear itself apart?

Notes:

This story takes place in a universe where Bobby Singer adopted an orphaned girl after a hunt gone wrong. Years later, she gained the attention of our favorite candy loving Archangel turned Trickster.

We wanted to share this with you but didn't know where to start exactly, so why not in the middle. It doesn't take alot of background to follow this bit but if you want more of Anna and Gabriel let us know. We might be persuaded to write further adventures for them.

Share this story and show support for the creator!

Tagging: @copperseraphim @thenanahunter @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @idabbleincrazy @truxblooded

LINK TO AO3

Anna was excited. She was getting to spend the whole weekend with Gabriel in a snowy little mountain cabin. Just him and her, alone. No dad. No Winchesters. To top it all off, her dad was in approval of the whole trip. It gave her a warm feeling that made her think her dad had finally, maybe, started to accept her relationship with Gabe; even trust him enough to take her off alone, states away.

That was the only downside to this whole trip. To keep up the appearances that Gabriel was a human, she had to drive to the cabin. Bobby had tried multiple times to get her to take his truck in the case of bad weather, but she insisted that she had looked into the weather, and that her little Nova would do the trick. Boy was she pressing her luck.

About a mile away from the highway turn off, the snow had turned from light, fluffy, dream-like globs to a constant white curtain that blew with wind gusts that rocked her car. Even with her wipers turned on high speed, she was having difficulties seeing the road. It’s not that it bothered her to drive in the weather, it was worrying about what other idjit could be out with her.

With some skill, and a few encouraged rubs over the talisman, she finally pulled up to a quaint cabin. Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned off all the extras working on her car before cutting the engine. Looking to the porch, she mapped out a little plan to get herself and her bags inside with minimal exposure to the cold. Taking a few deep breaths, she launched out of the driver’s seat, skidded as she grabbed her duffel from the back, and quick waddled to the door to keep from falling down.

Finding a small amount of shelter under the porch roof, she stomped her boots against the wood to knock off the snow before she thought about heading inside.

The door whipped open to reveal Gabriel clad in a red terry cloth robe with white trim and holding a mug of hot chocolate, cookies and worried expression, “One more tug on that necklace and I was going to come for you.”

Anna looked up when the door opened, sighing as the warmth from inside flowed out to meet her exposed skin. A grin spread across her face at the sight of Gabriel. “Sorry to have worried you. If it makes you feel better, doing it was keeping me calm.” She stepped up to him, and picked up a star cookie. “Aren’t we festive? Do I have to give Santa a kiss to gain entry to the North Pole?”

“It would help,” Gabriel said as he bent down so she could reach and he’d have some control on not spilling any of the goodies.

“Well, anything I can do to help.” Anna leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss with a cold nose and chilly lips.

Gabriel gave and over exaggerated shudder as he broke the kiss and stepped aside, “Get in. You’re going to get frostbite on your ass if you keep standing out in the cold.”

“The cold never bothered me anyway,” she sang playfully as she quickly entered the cabin. Stepping off to the side, she dropped her bag, and started to shed her layers. It wasn’t until she went to hang up her coat that she noticed the greenery wrapped around the coat rack. “Did the cabin come decorated with winter stuff, or did you do that too?”

Turning around so she could lean against the wall to take off her boots, she froze when she saw the rest of the decor. Every inch of the cabin was decorated in what she could only describe as a tasteful Christmas wonderland. There was even a real Christmas tree sitting in the corner, decorated completely with lights and ornaments.

Anna turned to Gabriel wide eyed, and asked, “Did you do all of this?”

Gabriel beamed at her as he sat the plate he was holding on a nearby table, “I even made cookies. The human way. Do you know how irritating it is to bake sugar cookies? They burn like they’re made of matchsticks if you don’t watch them.”

Anna crossed to him quickly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it,” she murmured before kissing him, “I love that you would do something so human for me too. I’m sure your cookies will taste delicious.”

“And I’m glad that you love it, because you spilled your cocoa on my hand,” he said, squeezing the words out between the press of their lips as the beverage dripped off his fingers and onto the floor.

Gasping softly, she let him go, and stepped back to look at his hand holding the mug. “I’m sorry! Here, let me take it.” She carefully took the warm drink from his hand and held it between hers. She shivered a little at the sudden warmth. “Did it burn you?”

“Barely felt it,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek then snapping his fingers to clean up the mess, “Don’t worry about it, Cupcake. Just come in and get comfy.” He lead the way over to the couch where a box lay wrapped and adorned with ribbons.

Anna quickly pulled and wiggled her feet out of her boots before following Gabe to the couch. Spying the box, her looked to Gabe and raised an eyebrow at him. “Is this a present for me?” she asked.

“It is,” he admitted as he sat down, tugging his robe closed so he wouldn’t end up flashing her, “And I know we said no gifts but this is practical for this weekend.”

Studying him with scrunched eyes, she set the mug down and picked up the gift so she could sit down. “What is it?” she asked, giving the box a little shake.

Gabriel shook his head, refusing to spill the beans on the contents of box. “Open and all will be revealed,” he said as he snapped up a cup of eggnog for himself.

“Fine,” she whined playfully as she tugged off the ribbon. Once it was out of the way, she ripped off the paper, revealing the plain white box underneath. “Curiouser and curiouser.” Grasping the lid, she gave it a few jiggles until it came off. Anna set the lid to the side and pushed back the tissue paper. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked, looking to him with a small smile.

“Happy belated Christmas, Anna,” Gabriel said warmly.

Anna’s smile grew and she pulled the soft red material from the box, shaking it out a little so it would hang loose. “A Mrs. Claus robe. Thank you. This really will come in handy this weekend,” she leaned over and kissed Gabe’s cheek, “I can’t believe that you found a place that it was still snowing this time of year.” She refolded the robe to place back in the box, but more red fabric caught her eye.

Raising an eyebrow at Gabe, she set the robe aside, and pulled a silky piece of red fabric out of the box. Holding it up, she smirked at Gabe. “If I wear this, am I on the Naughty or Nice list?”

“Oh, the Nice list,” Gabriel said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Will what I do in it land me on the Naughty list?” she teased with a wink, replacing the items back in the box.

“That’s all on you, Anastasia,” Gabriel drawled, “If you want to change, the bedroom is in the back, down the hall.”

Anna looked at Gabe, barely licking over her bottom lip. “Okay, Gabriel,” she drawled back to him, “I’ll be right back.” She rose from the couch and started toward the back, wiggling her tush as she stepped past him.

As soon as she was out of the room, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. If he listened closely enough, he could hear the baying of the Hellhounds hundreds of miles away, hunting their prey. He wanted to shield her from all of the mess his family was creating, even if he welcomed it, an end to their constant bickering just like it was planned. So lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear Anna coming back until she was close enough to touch him.

Anna hummed a festive tune as she returned to the living room. She had decided to go ahead and change into the nighty, and cover up with the robe. The soft fur tickled her thighs lightly, adding to her brightened mood. “Well, how does it look?” she asked, standing in front of him.

Lifting his head, he looked startled from his thoughts for a moment before smiling, “Beautiful. Is it warm enough?”

“It actually is. I just need like a blanket for the rest of my legs, and I’ll be all toasty like a marshmallow,” she answered, returning to her seat next to him. She picked up her mug of hot cocoa and took a drink, now that it was more lukewarm than hot.

Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, he draped it over their laps and pressed a kiss against her temple, “There. Safe and snug,” he said quietly.

Anna snuggled up to Gabe’s side and rested her head against his shoulder. “You didn’t have to make up our trip from Christmas. I was okay with waiting until this year to do something,” she said as she sought out his hand under the blanket, “But I love that you did this for me. Thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you, cupcake. You know that,” he said, lifting their joined hands and kissing her knuckles. “Just name it and if it doesn’t reorder the universe then it’s yours.”

.oOo.

They’d spent a lovely evening eating and sipping hot chocolate until a stray drop of the beverage on a lip led to soft kisses. Those kisses grew until there was a whirlwind of touches, sighs and sounds. Gabriel had to admit, after they were both spent, that having sex in front of the fire on a blankets was a bit cliche but he couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. At least here in his arms, Anna was safe from Lilith and her infernal hounds.

Curled around Anna with her head pillowed on his chest, he gently ran his fingers over her spine, deep in thought and wondering how he would tell her that her friend was gone. It was half past midnight and Dean’s soul would be firmly in the clutches of the damned.

Anna had tried to stay awake, but the day had caught up to her. She’d fallen asleep minutes after the two of them wound up in each other’s arms, the warmth of Gabe and the fire sinking all the way down to her bones.

Her dreams were peaceful images of Gabe and her lounging on a beach in Greece, until they weren’t. She looked up when she heard a familiar voice crying out for help, large sunhat swirling almost comically as she looked for the source. She swore that it had sounded like Dean, but Dean shouting when Sam had gotten hurt. She was about to lay back down when a bloody image flashed next to her. Gasping, she jumped and sat up, pulling off her sunglasses to look again, but all she found was sand. She glanced back to Gabe, but he was gone, and she turned back to look for him, she wasn’t on the beach anymore. She was standing in a dark, putrid dungeon watching someone carving into a man on a slab. Inching closer, the man screamed again, and she gasped seeing it was Dean. The man behind the knife reached into a opening and ripped out what looked like a rib. Anna screamed.

In the cabin, Anna’s nightmare had caused her to whimper in her sleep, until like a switch she was screaming and struggling in Gabe’s arms.

“Anna!...Anastasia!” Gabriel all but shouted her name as he tried to keep a hold of her. He’d felt her sleeping mind shift darker toward a nightmare and had tried to soothe it away. But it had been stronger, sharper, and something he couldn’t penetrate. At least not without burning out her mind, so he was reduced to holding her gently and trying to coax her out of her state with words alone. Until she started shrieking.

Anna’s eyes flew open, but they were wild and unfocused. She ripped herself out of Gabe’s hold and scrambled to the couch, pressing herself as far into the corner as she could. She was still trapped in her nightmare. She stayed pinned against the corner of the dark room, horrified as Dean was tortured in front of her. When he was just a shell, she gasped as a sickening feeling washed over her room, and in a blink Dean was whole and breathing again. The barred door opened and invisible being began to tear at Dean’s body.

Both in dream and in the living, she let out a wail, and buried her head into her arms and knees. She slowly rocked, begging softly to wake up.

Gabriel watched with eyes wide as she cowered on the sofa. He could tell that she was awake but whatever was happening she was still witnessing. Reaching out for her with his grace he caught a glimpse of what she was seeing and knew in that moment she wasn’t having a nightmare. It was a vision.

Without another thought, he crawled up beside her and summoned his angel blade. “It’s okay, Anna. I’m here,” He said quietly as he cut open his finger enough for his vessel to bleed. Pulling back her hair, he started to draw a sigil on her neck in his own blood with quick precise movements and Enochian falling from his lips. If he couldn’t bring her out of the vision, he could block them. At least for a short time.

Anna gasped deeply, her hand snapping out to snap around Gabe’s arm, fingers digging in. She twisted to the side, her grip shaking as if the vision was trying to overcome the spell, but within seconds her whole body when lax, and she sagged forward. She was eerily quiet, save for her panting breaths, while she worked out if she was still dreaming, or if she was awake.

“It’s over, Anna,” Gabriel said calmly and gathered her up into his arms, “You’re safe and sound. Right here. I gotcha… I gotcha.”

Anna exhaled shakily before the tears started flowing. She clung to Gabe for dear life and buried her face into his chest. The nightmare had felt so real that it was like she was actually there. Dean’s screams still echoed in her ears and the smell of blood hung in her nose. “Soo..much...blood,” she muttered through her tears, “So..much..”

Gabriel pressed his cheek against the top of her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he gently rocked her. If what he saw was a fraction of what she experienced, he failed his purpose of keeping her from anything to do with this mess. “I know, Anna,” he sighed, “I didn’t know you were sensitive or that they’d exploit it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Anna focused on Gabe to try to keep her grounded, her sobs now quieted to little gasps. She hadn’t really thought about what he was saying while trying to calm down, but now that her mind had cleared up enough to think, his words confused her. Pulling back to look at him, she looked between his eyes, wheels turning slowly. “What do you mean?” she rasped, “Why are you apologizing?”

Any other time he could have attempted to stand defiant and unwilling to reveal what had happened, even under her piercing gaze. That was before he’d watched her experience Hell and he was powerless to prevent it. He was once a General that commanded thousands of the Host who helped defeat Leviathan, but now a slip of a girl who’d given him love was able to bring him to heel with a look.

“This trip really was supposed to make up for Christmas. Just us and nothing to bother us,” He started quietly, taking her hand in his, “and if it kept you from their plans then it was a bonus.”

Anna sniffled and gently pulled out of his arms. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her torso, suddenly aware of her nakedness. “Are you trying to tell me that...what I saw was real?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Gabriel was eerily quiet and nodded his head. “You’re not a prophet but you saw the pit like no living being has ever seen it.”

Anna ignored the news that prophets were a thing, and focused on the fact that she had dreamt Hell in real time. Was it a dream? A vision? She didn’t know. All she knew is that what she’d seen was terrifying, and hoped that it never happened again.

Pulling the blanket closer, she clutched the soft fabric in her fist. The images flashed across her mind. Meeting Gabe’s eye again, she took a shaky breath. “So Dean…”

“It couldn’t be stopped. He made a deal with a demon in exchange for Sam’s life,” Gabriel answered, squeezing her hand gently.

Anna shook her head and pulled away. “No, there must have been a mistake. I would have known about it. They would have told me. We would have been doing researched for the past 10 years on how to get him out of the deal. To save him. We would have done it already. I would have asked-” She cut herself off when her voice cracked.

Gabriel sank to the carpet when she pulled her hand away from him. This was the moment he’d been avoiding and he wished her own family would have had the balls to do this instead of leaving it in his hands. He was supposed to be a joy to her but now that was probably ruined forever. “A year, Anna. He only had a year,” Gabriel said, “I saw the deal written on his soul and there would have never been a way to break it. Not without killing Sam too.”

Anna stared at Gabriel and her face turned down into a frown. “You knew about it then...You’ve known for a whole year about this, and you didn’t even say anything to me!” she accused, “You don’t know that there couldn’t have been a way! I might have found a way to save him. To save both of them. But it’s too late! It’s too late because now Dean’s dead, and he’s in Hell being ripped apart, and there’s noth..nothing I can do to help.” Her eyes filled to the brim with hot, angry tears.

“One lone human against Heaven and Hell wouldn’t have made a difference.” Gabriel eased up onto the couch beside her. Looking deep into her eyes and he knew then she needed to know what had happened and what was to come, otherwise she’d just find out through these visions, “This whole thing was meant to happen since before any of you were born and they will make sure it comes to pass. Dean and Sam will be the means to bring about the end of the world. My brother Michael possessing Dean and Lucifer possessing Sam.”

Anna shook her head and turned away from him, not wanting to believe anything that he was saying. “Don’t...Gabriel, just stop...it’s..it’s not true,” she tried to convince herself, “That’s not going to happen to them. It can’t.”

“It can. It will.” he insist, “If Dean breaks the first seal it will be. And he will break that seal.” Gabriel dropped his forehead against her shoulder as his hands rested on her waist, voice dropping down to a whisper, “I tried, Anastasia. I tried to keep you safe from it. I love you and my family is so cruel. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because how do I tell the woman that’s meant more to me than any other that my brothers are going to kill everything?”

“Don’t,” Anna hissed as stood and stepped away from him, stumbling a little over the tail of the blanket that was still stuck up on the couch. “Don’t you use your love for me as an excuse for..for lying to me.” This was all too much to have thrown at her at once. Her brain was overloaded and wanting to reject all of this new information. “If I mean so much to you, then you’d have told me all of this already. If your brothers are going to kill everything, aren’t I included in that everything? Or was your plan just to save me, and let everyone else I care about die?”

Gabriel snapped his fingers and dressing himself in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his voice rising slightly in frustration, “Do you really think I planned all this out to get in your pants? That I wanted to love you?” he pushed himself off the couch and started pacing around, “I was perfectly happy being alone and in hiding. Then you had to summon me and be all adorable and sassy. But you don’t tell a little girl barely out of her Daddy’s arms that her world is going to go up in flames. Then you grew up and were happy and if I wanted make sure you were happy, then fine. I’m guilty. I didn’t tell you all my dirty secrets.” Gabriel shoved his hand through his hair, “I was praying to Father that it would never come to this. Not really. That He’d stop it and then you and I could… Now I don’t know what to do but hold on to what I have and hide again if I have to.”

Anna moved across the small space between them, and raised her hand, bringing it down across his face. She stayed stone faced through the pain that ran up into her wrist. She glared at him for a long moment before turning on her heel and stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Safe now that she was alone, she let the rest of her walls crumble, and she curled up under the covers, letting the tears and sobs flow freely. Feelings she hadn’t felt since prom night started to resurface, and she clutched her pillow closer.

He hadn’t expected her to hit him. It hurt his pride more than anything and left him stunned as he watched her retreat to the bedroom. Not until the door slamming against the frame did he break out of his stupor and look around. The cheerful fire and decorations seemed like a mockery now. He didn’t even bother to snap to make the tinsel and tree vanish like they’d never been there.

Standing in front of the bay window as the final blizzard of the year raged in the mountains around them, tears started to roll down his cheeks. There were three times in all of history that Gabriel had ever felt this low. The first he couldn’t even remember, not fully. He’d been too young. The second was the day that Lucifer was cast into the Pit and never to return. The third was today. He was sure that after today Anna would send him away and choose to face the Apocalypse or worse, try to stop it. Either way he’d lose her.

Anna’s eyes soon ran dry, and she was left with nothing but sound of the storm outside, and her own soft hiccups to block out her thoughts. They weren’t loud enough. Their argument replayed over in her mind, right up to when she’d slapped him, and stormed off. She was sure that this was the end for them. She’d finally regain her strength and she would go out to him, and he’d tell her that their relationship was just too much work, and he’d snap his fingers so she was back home.

It wasn’t until the clock on the mantle started to chime it’s announcement of the ungodly hour of the morning and the first rays of dawn started to appear that Gabriel wiped his cheeks dry. If she was going to leave him it’d be best for both of them if it was done quickly. Turning, he headed to the bedroom and decided against barging into the room, instead he knocked gently.

She was so tired, the events of the night weighing heavy on her eyelids, but every time she closed her eye, all she could see was Dean being tortured and she was awake again. The knock on the door shocked her out of her current state of half-slumber, and she sat up slowly. This was it. He was going to come in and tell her to leave and never call for him again. “Hold on,” she called out, voice rough. She quickly dressed in the pajamas she’d brought with her and returned to the bed. “Come in.”

Gabriel eased into the room and shut the door behind him. Walking across the room to the bed, he stood at the foot with his hands stuffed in his pockets, “I’ve been doing some thinking and after everything that’s happened I’ll understand if you want to go home. I’ll miss you and I won’t stop caring about you but if you want me to stay away, I’ll respect your choice. It’s the least I can do.”

Anna watched him enter room, but turned her eyes to her lap as he spoke, not wanting to look at him when he told her to get out. But that didn’t quite happen. Finally turning her gaze up to meet his, she looked between his eyes, as if trying to find the answer to her unspoken question in them. “Do you want me to go home?” she asked.

“No,” he answered simply before sitting on the edge of the bed, “I think that’s how I got us in this mess. I didn’t want to let you go, but I won’t stop you if it’s what you really want.”

She didn’t move from her spot when he sat down, but they were now close. Knee to thigh close. “I don’t want to,” she said, then confirmed, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Gabriel turned his head and studied her for a moment, looking for some indication that she didn’t mean what she said. “Say it again?” he asked softly.

Anna reached out and placed her hand on his knee. “I don’t want to leave you, Gabriel,” she repeated, “I love you too much to ever want to leave.” She raised her hand and gently brushed her fingers over the cheek that she’d struck. You’d never know she’d done it if it wasn’t for the small scratch across his cheekbone. “I’m sorry for hitting you. I shouldn’t have ever done it.”

“I’ve been slapped before. Maybe for more fun reasons, but… “ Gabriel said with a wane smile, “At least you didn’t stab me.”

“I still shouldn’t have done it. I even scratched you,” she protested, starting to look a little distraught.

Gabriel lifted his hand to touch his cheek. Pulling his finger away he saw a few flakes of dried blood. He hadn’t even noticed it’d happened otherwise he would have healed it by now. Looking up he saw her looking miserable for such a small injury. Leaning forward and kissing the end of her nose, he pulled her into his lap as the scratch healed itself.

Anna let her hands rest against his shoulders and examined the spot where the scratch had been. She brushed away the leftover small flakes of dried blood before leaning in and kissing the spot. She placed a few more kissed on his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry that I got so upset…”

“You saw Hell itself and then I laid a bunch on you,” Gabriel whispered to her and kissed her temple.

Anna pulled back to look at him, she spoke, “I do have something I want to say, but I don’t want you to interrupt me.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

She pulled his hands so they rested in front of her, and held them in hers. “Gabriel, no matter what happens between us, I want you to know that I’ll always love you, and that I’ll never leave you unless you wish it. I think that maybe we should consider discussing some of our darker secrets so that arguments like the one we had won’t happen again.” She brought his hands up to place kisses on his knuckles.

Gabriel took a deep breath and nodded, “I’ll agree to that but my stories might take a long time to tell.”

Anna gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. “I still want to hear about them. To know more about you,” she smiled softly up at him.

“Alright,” Gabriel agreed, “But you need to get some sleep first. It’s been a really long night.”

At the mention of sleep, her smile wavered. “I'm fine. I took a couple short naps earlier,” she fibbed.

Knowing her well enough to tell when she was covering up, Gabriel brushed the hair from her face as he asked, “Having flashbacks?”

She looked down to the collar of his shirt and nodded, then shrugged. “I can't stop seeing it,” she admitted, “And I'm afraid of what else I'm going to see when I do fall asleep. He…” Anna clenched her jaw and shook her head a little. “I can't fall asleep anyway. I keep waking myself up.”

“Lay down with me anyway,” Gabriel said as he pulled off his t-shirt, “Resting is better than nothing.”

Anna nodded and moved off of his lap. She scooted to the middle of the bed and slipped under the blanket. She'd suddenly gotten a chill, and she blamed the storm outside. Shuffling down, she settled into the pillows and waited for him to join her.

He turned off the bedside lamp and crawled into the bed. Gathering her up into his arms, he made sure that they were both well covered before using his grace to block out the the memory of her vision and hopefully stop her from receiving any new images. Once they were settled, he confessed one of the thoughts he’d had while staring at the snow, “I’ll take you and your father to Asgard if need be. You’ll be safe. And then you and me could… we could be together.”

Being back in his arms this way was a better comfort than just the blanket could provide. She could already feel her eyes growing heavy from her exhaustion. When she closed her eyes, there were no horrid images, just sweet darkness.

Hearing him speak, she forced herself to stay awake long enough to hear what he had to say. Taking his hand and twining their fingers together between them, she squeezed his fingers. “Will we get to meet Thor and Odin?” the barest of teasing smiles on her lips.

“Yes, but they don’t look anything like they do in the movies,” Gabriel snorted, “I’m the cutest out of the lot of them.”

She hummed her amusement. “I don't doubt that for a second,” she said, her speech starting to trail off at the end, “Are there any single older women up there?”

“A few, but if you’re asking for yourself, the Valkyrie will love you but they’ll have to fight me for a night with you,” Gabriel teased, “I don’t share easily.”

Anna smiled and tapped his fingers. “While that seems like an interesting time, I meant for my dad.”

“Valkyries would eat him up. Then again, he might like it.” Gabriel pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “Try to sleep, Anastasia. We can fix your Dad up later.”

Anna chuckled and large yawn caught her off guard. “Okay. Sounds good to me,” she agreed. Closing her eyes once again she whispered, “Night Gabby.”

Even though she couldn’t see them, Gabriel draped his wings over her and held on tight, determined to protect her even from the nightmares in her head, “Sleep well, Cupcake. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Anna finally allowed herself to get some sleep, knowing she was safe in Gabe's arms. Her darkness shifted into a peaceful dream about the two of them on a road trip through purple fields of lavender.

#Madamelibrarian writing with friends #Supernatural #Fanfiction #spn fanfic #Gabriel (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s)#Gabriel #original female character

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yuuri-the-katsudon · 7 years

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Victuri and yurio walking down the street and Victor slips and falls on some floor ice and the Yuri's just burst into laughter like the great Victor Nikiforov! Hero of Russia! And all that

Unsurprisingly, when Viktor wakes, Yuuri is absolutely dead to the world beside him. White sunlight filters through the cloud cover and into their (their, Viktor still can’t believe Yuuri’s here, with him, in his apartment, in his bed) bedroom, but it doesn’t affect his sleeping beauty in the slightest. Yuuri is burrowed under the sheets and covers, arms and legs pulled up against his chest in a frankly adorable position. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful, so at home that Viktor finds himself positively beaming at the sight.

He lays down again and turns toward Yuuri, close enough to count each of his impossibly long, enchantingly dark eyelashes. Slowly, almost reverently, Viktor reaches out a hand and brushes some of Yuuri’s bangs away from his face. They’re longer than when the two of them were staying in Hasetsu and Viktor is pleased to note that Yuuri’s hair curls a bit with length. It’s grown out enough that Yuuri usually has to pin his bangs back with bobby pins or little hair clips when he skates.

Viktor runs his hand through Yuuri’s hair now, basking in his presence—albeit an unconscious one—and trying to commit the moment to memory. If you’d told him last year that he’d soon be engaged to the love of his life and that they’d be working and living together at his home, he would have laughed bitterly at your delusional state. Yuuri is something Viktor could never have predicted or prepared for, but he’d be lying if he said that this man wasn’t the most perfect being to drunkenly waltz into his life. Yuuri has given Viktor more than any physical object can repay or words can express gratitude for. He breathed life into Viktor’s drab existence, he awoke love in Viktor that he never knew he was capable of feeling. Without Yuuri’s influence, he knew he would be only a shell of a man, uninspired and utterly bored of the drag of time, skating seasons never changing or offering anything worth his attention.

“God, how did I ever get so lucky?” he whispers, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Yuuri’s forehead.

~*~*~*~*

Eventually, Yuuri got out of bed, though Viktor suspects he only did so out of hunger. They exit their bedroom, Yuuri resting basically all of his weight on Viktor’s shoulder as they walk out into the main living space.

Yurio is already perched on the edge of the couch, legs tucked beneath him and phone in hand. He slept over at their apartment pretty frequently, definitely more than he’d ever admit to anyone out loud. He claimed it was for convenience, they lived closer to the rink after all, but Viktor knew it was more than that and it warmed his heart to see how much Yurio cared.

“I thought you two would never get up, it’s like 10 already,” Yurio says, still not looking up from his phone.

“Mmm…” Yuuri murmurs and flops down on the couch beside the smaller Yuri. Viktor smiles when Yurio doesn’t complain or try to move away.

Then he realizes something, “Oh, I need to walk Makkachin if it’s already 10, he must be impatient to go out.”

Yurio waves him off. “Don’t worry old man, I already took him out when I got up since you two were clearly not going to be responsible adults.”

Viktor blinks in surprise and even Yuuri turns to raise an eyebrow at Yurio’s unexpectedly kind gesture. The Russian teen blushes furiously and looks away from them both, muttering something about them not making such a big deal out of it or else.

With a doting smile and a shake of his head, Viktor lets the moment pass (for now, he’ll definitely be bringing this up in the future to tease Yurio). “Did you eat anything for breakfast, Yurio?”

“Not yet and quit calling me that,” he answers with a glare.

“Well, since we haven’t eaten anything either, why don’t we go out somewhere? I suppose it’s more like brunch now, but there should be plenty of places open,” Viktor says.

Yuuri instantly perks up at the prospect of food that he doesn’t have to prepare. “That sounds good.”

“Fine, as long as I’m not paying,” Yurio says.

“No, I’ll treat you since you walked Makkachin this morning like a big boy.” Ah, he couldn’t keep from teasing him for long.

“Shut up, Nikiforov!” Yurio screeches. “I’m going to get ready, you’d both better be done by the time I’m out; I’m hungry.” With that, he runs off, closing (slamming) the door of the guest room (his room) behind him.

Yuuri flopped over into the space Yurio had occupied as soon as he moved and now he’s lying lengthwise along the couch. Viktor smirks and sits on the arm, ruffling his fiancé’s hair. “Are you still tired after all of that sleep, my Yuuri?”

Indistinct grumbling comes from the cushions. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Viktor walks around to the front of the couch and promptly picks Yuuri up bridal style. He squeaks in surprise and tries to wriggle free, but Viktor holds tight and eventually Yuuri gives in to being carried.

“It’s too early in the morning for you to be lugging me around the apartment,” Yuuri says with a pout that he hides in Viktor’s chest.

“The day is nearly half over, моя любовь,” Viktor says as he walks them back into the bedroom.

“Still,” Yuuri says. Viktor throws him onto their unmade bed and he complains in Japanese that’s too sleep-slurred for Viktor to translate. “If you put me back in bed, I won’t want to get up again.”

“Really? Not even for that restaurant four blocks down with the amazing breakfast buffet?” Viktor says with a fake gasp. “Yuuri, I’m surprised at you! I suppose you don’t want a free day off your diet…”

Yuuri’s up before he can say another word, digging through their shared wardrobe like a man possessed. Ah, he has his lover pegged.

They get dressed and meet Yurio at the door, all bundled up to face a winter day in Russia. It’s a relatively short walk, but a cold one nonetheless; the air outside is crisp and it burns the lungs. They’re all skaters though, they’re used to air so cold it’s painful to breathe.

The streets are fairly quiet and Viktor enjoys the walk immensely, his gloved hand entwined with Yuuri’s own. Yuuri is extremely cute with his scarf and beanie covering every part of his head and face and Viktor wants to wrap him up like a burrito and keep him forever.

Yurio walks a bit ahead of them, tapping away on his phone (most likely texting Otabek) and doing his best to ignore their held hands and Viktor’s adoring looks in Yuuri’s direction.

A muffled, “Why did we decide to go outside? I can’t think of a single worthy reason,” comes from Yuuri’s cloth heap.

“Food, katsudon. How could you forget that?” Yurio throws back distractedly.

“I think my brain has frostbite,” Yuuri says.

“Aww, моя звезда isn’t built for this weather?” Viktor squeezes Yuuri’s hand lightly.

“I lived in Detroit for a few years, but American winters are nothing in comparison to this,” Yuuri answers.

“You’ll get used to it,” Yurio says.

“You had certainly better! You’ll be spending quite a lot of time here, after all!” Viktor exclaims.

“Yes, I will, won’t I?” Yuuri says and his eyes crinkle at the edges with a smile.

Viktor’s heart melts at the sight and he’s about to say something in response when he suddenly feels the world tilt on its axis and he’s staring, breathless and wide-eyed, up at the colorless sky. He blinks and with slow realization feels the aches in his head and the icy sidewalk pressed against his back.

“…Did you actually just slip. On the ice. Of a sidewalk,” Yurio says in utter disbelief.

There’s a snort, then a giggle, and from there Yuuri rapidly dissolves into hysterical laughter. Viktor props himself up on his elbows to see Yuuri clutching his stomach through the thick trench coat he’s wearing, bending forward with the force of his laughter. He just can’t stop, and it’s musical and bright and sosohappy that Viktor falls a little bit more for him, even if the hilarity is at his expense.

Yurio is very adamantly looking away and pretending not to know these two complete embarrassments that he’s parading around with.

Viktor smiles a little, “Is it really that funny?”

Yuuri snorts even louder and manages to say, “V-Viktor Nikiforov, the…haha…the world’s most d-decorated figure skater j-just fell flat on the ground b-because of some ice on the s-sidewALK HAHAHAHA!” and he’s off again.

His joy is infectious and Viktor laughs as he sees the situation for how ridiculous it is. If only the press could see him now…

He manages to get up off the floor without another embarrassing tumble, brushing the snow off the back of his coat and legs.

Yurio rolls his eyes at them (“Idiots, both of you.”) and continues walking to the restaurant.

Viktor cradles Yuuri’s face in his hands and tilts it up so he can see his expression. Happy tears are squeezing from the corners of his eyes and his nose is scrunched up and squishing the bridge of his glasses with the strength of his smile. His cheeks are flushed with a combination of the cutting wind and the glow of amusement. It’s a precious sight to behold.

After another minute or so, Yuuri’s laughter dies down into intermittent giggles and gasps and he opens his eyes. They’re glittering a lively russet brown from his tears and the sheer elation of the moment as they meet Viktor’s own. He grins and bumps his nose with Viktor’s as he says, “I love you so much, Vitya.”

#Yuri!!! on Ice #yuri on ice #Viktuuri #Victuuri #Victuri #Vikturi #Yuuri Katsuki #Viktor Nikiforov #Yuri Plisetsky #fanfictions #asks #mine

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 3 | Not What I Expected

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

This chapter: Luke is not pleased with Tom’s scheme but Tom is relentless in his pursuit to find Tamra’s Christmas spirit. Perhaps a bit of Christmas shopping will do the trick.

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

“What on earth do you need to tell me at 10 at night two weeks before Christmas?” Luke’s voice boomed through the phone as Tom walked up the stairs to his home.

“Listen Luke, I thought I should be the first to tell you… for once,” Tom muttered those last words.

“Tell me what, Tom.” Luke spat back.

“Over the next few days you might see pictures of me with a mystery blonde woman. Nothing is going on between us. We are just friends.” Tom blurted out before he realized what he had said.

Silence. “Luke?” Tom asked.

“Sorry, mate. I’m marking down the date as the STUPIDEST FUCKING THING EVER!!”

Tom held the phone away from his ear. “Did you really need to shout, Luke?!” Tom replied, anger growing. “For once, I call you ahead of time to tell you about some upcoming potential problem and I am rewarded with you bellowing in my ear. Now I appreciate why they say it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”

“I might have overreacted.”

“Might?!”

“I overreacted. Apologies. Now pray tell why you are hanging around with a mystery blonde woman?”

“None of your business.” Tom snapped as he flicked the light on in his bedroom, Bobby nipping at his heels.

“In your fucking dreams, Thomas!” Tom overheard a loud thud in the background.

“How’s your hand?”

“Hurts.”

“Next time don’t bang it against the counter. Now if you can keep calm, I will explain that it is none of your business because there is not nothing to manage. She is a friend in town for the next two weeks and she is keeping me company through the holidays.”

“When do I get to meet her?”

“If everything goes to plan, never. Luke, trust me. I got this under control.”

Luke sighed heavy into the phone. “The last time I trusted you, I didn’t sleep for three days.”

“I’m not living that down, am I?”

“Not in the foreseeable future.” Luke grunted. “Okay, Tom, I won’t push you for information for now. But if things get crazy, you will force my hand.”

“Fair enough. You are a good friend and a great publicist.”

“I won’t argue with you on that point. Goodnight Tom.”

“Night Luke.”

Tom hung up the phone and changed into pajamas before sliding underneath the blankets of his inviting bed. But sleep did not come. His mind raced at the possibilities for tomorrow. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pulled up the web browser. Before long, he found himself engrossed in the website for the British Museum.

“I really need to get out more.” he muttered to himself as he scrolled the site.

“Oh, this is perfect!” he exclaimed as something came across the screen. He tapped the screen a few times to purchase tickets before setting the phone back down. He drifted off to sleep with a smug smile on his face.

Tamra awoke the next morning to a loud pounding. At first, she thought she was dreaming, but the pounding became more insistent and more frantic. She popped open one eye to view light streaming through the window next to the bed.

“Go away!” Tamara yelled at the unknown knocker as she rose to answer the door, wrapping a robe around her frame.

“What do you—” Tamra groaned as she opened the door. Tom bursted through running hard into her shoulder.

“I have been ringing you for an hour! I almost called the police! Did you not hear your phone?”

Tamra rubbed her shoulder, still sore from the first encounter with Tom.

“Are you made from marble? That hurts.” Tom gave a withering glance towards her. Tamra rolled her eyes. “Sorry! Heard of jet lag?”

“You worried me. Now get dressed so we can get breakfast.”

“Now?”

“No, tomorrow. Yes now! We are burning daylight as we speak.”

“Oh god.” Tamra groaned as she turned away from Tom still standing in her kitchen.

“Oh god what? What have I done now to earn a Tamra Harmon groan?”

“It’s… you’re a morning person aren’t you?” she rifled through the drawers to find clothes for the day.

“You say that like being a morning person a bad thing.”

“It is. I’m going to take a shower.”

Tom moved as if to follow her before stopping in his tracks when she shot daggers at him.

“I’m joking. I am the consummate gentleman. Lighten up.”

“I’ll lighten up once I get coffee.” Tamra yelled as she disappeared into the bathroom.

“That can be arranged.” Tom whispered to himself as he surveyed the small flat.

The whole place was small but well appointed. A small kitchen and living area with the bed tucked into one corner. Tom settled onto the small couch as he waited for Tamra to finish getting ready. He spied a well worn folded piece of paper on a nearby table. He glanced to check if Tamra was ready yet and then rose to pick it up.

“What are you doing?” Tamra’s voice rang out as Tom unfolded the sheet of paper.

“Looking at your…” Tom turned his head to the side to read the paper as he righted it. “… itinerary. My, you have planned things out haven’t you?”

“Give that back!” Tamra snapped as she moved to rip the paper from Tom’s hand but he moved too quick, holding the paper high above his head. Tamra took two jumps before retrieving the paper. She folded the paper back up before tucking the whole thing into her wallet.

“Now what is the plan today?” Tamra asked as she grabbed her coat, impatient to get Tom out of her flat.

“We can discuss that over breakfast because I promised you coffee. I found a place down the road that serves the best French pastries.”

“Color me intrigued. Lead the way, tour guide.” Tamra opened the door and Tom stepped through.

They took the short walk to La Gauloise and Tom held the door for Tamra. The small cafe smelled of warm bread and coffee. Tamra took a deep breath. Tom looked over and smiled at the sight of her taking in the smells, eyes closed.

“Shall we?” Tamra nodded. Tom ordered two coffees and two pain au chocolats. The cashier turned to fixed the coffee.

“Pain chocolate?” Tamra wrinkled her nose.

“Pain au chocolat.” Tom repeated with a French flair. “It’s a croissant with chocolate in the middle.”

Tamra grabbed the bag of pastries while Tom sat a nearby table. “Do you eat any meals without chocolate in them?”

“Usually yes, but it is the holidays. I like to indulge.” he raised his hands.

“Fair enough.” Tamra took a bite with the pastry shattering against her face. “So we should go to Victoria and Albert—”

“I already made the plans for the day.” Tom fished an envelope from his jacket. “Here.”

Tamra opened the envelope to find a printout for tickets to a lecture at the British Museum. “You bought tickets to a lecture?”

“I did.”

“But the lecture isn’t until 5:30.”

Tom leaned over to glance and what he already knew. “So it is. I guess we will need to do something else to fill the day.” Tom’s pulled into a smug expression.

“That’s not part of our deal.” Tom held up a finger to shush her.

“Our deal is that you get to go to one museum a day and I get to show you the wonders of Christmas.”

“But…”

“No buts, I have fulfilled by part of the bargain. Now…” Tom leaned in close to Tamra. “How do you feel about Christmas shopping?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“When you said Christmas shopping, I did not expect this.” Tamra yelled after Tom down the aisle.

Tom popped his head around as he jogged back. “Did you expect Harrod’s? Personal shoppers? Glitz and glamour?”

“Kind of.”

Tom moved in close to whisper in her ear. “I’m not that kind of celebrity.” And he took off down another aisle.

“But a bookstore?”

“Foyle’s is perfect. Books are the perfect present.”

“For a nerd.”

“Are you insulting my people?” Tom said in mock hurt.

“Not at all. I am your people.” She said with a smile.

“Excellent. Now help me find a book suitable for my younger sister?”

Tamra laughed before taking off towards the fiction section. The two of them spent the better part of the morning roaming the store, picking out books as both presents and a few for themselves. Tom insisted on paying for everything and even arranged for the store hold the purchases until tomorrow when someone would pick them up. While they shopped, a light dusting of snow collected on the ground and a brisk wind blew as they stepped outside. Tamra pulled her jacket tight around her but it did little to keep the wind from chilling her bones.

“We must do something about your jacket.” Tom commented as he buttoned his own wool coat up.

“I’m fine.”

“Your teeth are chattering. You’re not fine. Just let me help you.”

Tom grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her inside a clothing store. He didn’t let go until they stood in front of a confused sales associate.

“She needs a warm coat for the inclement weather. Preferably wool.”

The sales associate looked Tamra up and down. She raised an eyebrow at Tamra’s thin jacket.

“I’m from Florida.” Tamra offered.

“I see.” the sale associate replied, a smile growing across her face. “We have the thing.” She led Tamra off to a far wall by the arm, while Tom chuckled from behind.

By the time Tom reached the two women, Tamra wore a grey wool pea coat, very similar to Tom’s.

“And you can match your boyfriend.” the sales associate said, out of earshot from Tom.

“Not my boyfriend.” Tamra hissed.

“Could have fooled me.”

“How are the two of you getting along?” Tom popped in. Tamra jumped. “You look smashing.”

“Thanks. I will wear it out of the store.”

The associate snipped the tag and Tom again insisted on paying.

“I can pay my own way, Tom.”

“I respect your wishes, but I want to pay. Consider it my gentlemanly duty.”

Tamra rolled her eyes.

“Let him pay, darling.”

“Fine.”

Tom finished the transaction, and they headed out of the store. The snow fell more steady as they stepped back out.

“Warmer?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tom’s stomach growled. “We skipped lunch.”

Tamra’s stomach growled in response. “We did.”

“Let’s walk until we find a place to eat.”

Tamra nodded in agreement. As they walked, they passed by the Donmar Warehouse. Tom tugged on Tamra’s sleeve.

“That’s the Donmar Warehouse. I played Coriolanus there.”

Tamra noticed how Tom’s eyes twinkled as he talked about his time performing. Tamra looked at him in wonder.

“You really love Shakespeare.”

“I feel the most alive when I perform the Bard’s work.” Tom responded. He grabbed her hand for a moment and squeezed. “But right now, I may not go on living if we don’t get sustenance soon.”

“Agreed.”

They found a restaurant and sat down for a bite to eat. They continued to talk about work as they ate. Tom asked about Tamra’s job at the museum.

“I love being a curator!” she exclaimed. “Putting the exhibits together and imparting all the knowledge to our visitors. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Tom leaned onto his elbows. Not once since he met her, Tamra never spoke with such passion as she did about her job. Tom found himself hanging on her words.

“I can tell you care about your work. It is rare to come across that sort dedication and passion these days.”

Tamra blushed. “Thank you, you’re making me blush. You seemed to be passionate as well. While I don’t share your enthusiasm for Christmas, I appreciate your passion for your work and life. More people could do with a healthy dose of passion.”

“Now it’s my turn to blush.”

They finished their meal and headed off to the British Museum. The lecture was titled “A Tudor Christmas”. Not a particularly interesting topic for Tom but he figured Tamra would appreciate the history aspect. He was not wrong.

Tamra hung on every word of the lecturer. She didn’t notice Tom sneaking glances at her throughout the lecture, smiling the entire time. When the lecture ended, Tamra jumped up to move to the front. Tom waited for the room to empty before heading to meet Tamra. Tom saw here towering over the diminutive lecturer, gesturing wildly.

“Lovely talk.” Tom shook the hand of the lecture. “My friend here really enjoyed it.”

Tamra nodded. They continued to talk for a few more minutes before leaving the now empty lecture room.

“Did you enjoy the talk about Christmas?” Tom asked outside of Tamra’s flat.

“I enjoyed the talk about history. Christmas happened to be the topic of that lecture.”

“I bet you are a hit at cocktail parties with that winning conversational style.”

Tamra did a little curtsy and twirl. “You should see me in a dress.”

“Another time. I will pick you up tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Wake up in the morning this time.”

“I make no promises.”

Tamra smiled as she extended her hand to Tom. He took it and then pulled her into an embrace.

“Just so you know, I’m not above breaking and entering.” Tom whispered into her ear.

Tamra pulled away laughing. “Goodnight, psycho.” She closed the door behind her.

Tom pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Ben. Yes I’m aware of the time. I’m sorry if I woke the kids. Yes, get Sophie on the line.”

Tom tapped his foot.

“I need a favor.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #bah hiddleston

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