#but hey i've got at least four more of these posts in my back pocket

[talistheintrovert]

The Heart Killers 15/?

Episode 12 aka do you have ANY idea how long i've been saving that aurora borealis one???

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 12/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Twelve of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,670 warnings: none soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: the ending is here!! can't believe I panic wrote 60k words in less than two weeks but here we are. thank you to everyone for reading! (i will post a small epilogue tomorrow)

"Hey, Natalie? You got a minute?"

Looking up from sorting the papers on her father's desk, Natalie saw Max in the office doorway. It hit her again that this was now his office and she was relieved that the pang in her chest wasn't as sharp this time. "Yeah, sure," she said, standing. "What's up?"

He waved at her to sit back down and stepped inside. The apron he wore made him look a little odd in her opinion, though she knew she would get used to seeing him wearing one. She knew that he and Eve were technically living in town now. Oscar had told her there were just a few things left at their place in Fairview to bring down. Now that he wasn't going back and forth, Max had begun coming to the bakery every day. And though it had felt weird, having him standing next to her while she prepped croissant dough for the next morning, over the past week she had come to enjoy his company. He fit right in, the customers liked him, and he knew nearly as much as her father did about baking. He was as likeable, with a bit of sarcasm in some of his quips, and she had seen him work enough in the past week to know that he was a perfectionist.

"Is everything okay?" she asked when he sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his apron. An instant later he was pulling his hands out and fiddling with the snow globe on the edge of the desk.

"Yeah, no, everything is fine," he said with a quick smile. "I just wanted to…"

He sighed again, and Natalie frowned. "What, Max?"

"You know Eve's pregnant?" he asked, picking up the snow globe.

"She is? I didn't know. Congratulations," she said, grinning.

"Thanks." He grinned as well, reminding her that he was a devoted father. "We're not telling everyone yet because it's early, but… " His grin only widened. Turning the snow globe in his hand, he tipped it until the glitter and fake snow inside collected at the top. "We're pretty excited."

"New town, new house, new business, new kids… You two just have to go the extra mile, huh?"

"No kidding," he chuckled. He held the snow globe upright, watching the snow and glitter swirl. "Anyway, she won't be able to help out for long. Her pregnancy with Lucas wasn't easy and she was put on bedrest. I'm not saying that's gonna happen this time around, but we're gonna need to be careful, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And I'm still learning my way around here," he went on, setting the snow globe back down. I know Mark's only a phone call away and unless I've got him wrong, he'll show up at least every other day, but…"

"You don't want to bother him," she guessed, warming to him even more.

"Exactly. And, um, you know this place better than I do."

"Not really."

"You do, Natalie. And you've done a damned good job. Mark told me he couldn't have kept everything going these past few weeks without you." Max sighed again. "What I'm saying is…"

Natalie waited for him to either gather his courage or his thoughts. Looking down at the paper in her hand, she wondered if her father needed a receipt from an order he'd placed six years before. Knowing him, he would want to hold onto it just in case. She leaned to set it in the stack of receipts that she would later work to organize by date and then find the spot in the filing cabinet for them.

"Would you consider staying on?" Max asked.

"Staying on?" she echoed.

"At least part-time. Until after the babies are born and Eve can get back to work."

"That's a year from now," she murmured.

"Yeah, at least," he sighed. "I don't know what your plans are after Mark's surgery, but if you're gonna stay in town, I'd love for you to keep working here."

"I—" Natalie faltered. She thought of the voicemail she had saved on her phone from Katie in Atlanta. Katie, who'd emailed her photos of a cute apartment with a nice view. Katie, who'd offered her a bonus to assist her in her move. Katie, who she hadn't called because she was still warring with herself over whether she wanted to accept the job. She both did and did not.

"You're good at this. You're great at baking. You'd be a huge help. I'm not trying to guilt you, but I know Mark would rest a little easier knowing you were here. Hell, I'd be a little easier knowing you were here. And I think the people that come in here every day would be less upset about me taking over if they knew a Webber would still be in the shop." He cleared his throat and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "I sat up late last night doing some figuring, and this is what I can offer for pay and benefits."

She took it, looking at the neatly written figures. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Just let me know in a couple days, because if you don't want the job, I'll have to look into hiring someone else."

She nodded. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Great." He smiled and turned to leave the office. "We're still on for tomorrow night?"

"Yep." It had been her father's idea to have a Christmas Eve party and invite a few people over. Nothing fancy, mainly finger foods and treats and Mark's special Santa's Whiskers cookies, hot cocoa and coffee and eggnog, Christmas cartoons and carols. When she had left the house he had been at the kitchen table, making lists of what he needed to get done. It had given him a new sense of purpose, especially when Max and his family, her friends and their partners and kids, and Oscar had said they would come.

"Perfect, you can just tell me tomorrow night, then," he said before leaving.

Turning back to the papers, she began to sort, softly humming along to the music Max had playing in the kitchen.

The bakery was moving into good hands, she thought, smiling when she heard Eve's laugh as Max began to sing along with Nat King Cole. It would forever hold memories for her, both good and bad, but she now accepted that it was time for a new set of memories. Lucas would no doubt picture his father at the counter, grinning and offering him a cookie. Grace would soon learn all the nooks and crannies where she could tuck herself away to read or play quietly. Max and Eve would love the building and everything in it. Maybe not as much as her father did, at least at first, but they would with time. And their obvious love would keep customers coming.

She picked up the slip of paper Max had given her and read it over again after she had sorted all the papers in the desk. It was a generous offer. Not as much as she would make in Atlanta, but… The cost of living here was a lot lower.

Another tick in her mental pros and cons list.

After storing the keep pile and tucking the questionable pile into a large envelope, she glanced around the office. Her father had already taken out the things he wanted at home. A few photos, gifts customers had given him over the years.

She turned slowly to look at the hook on the wall, expecting to see her mother's apron where it had always been. The hook was empty and the air left her lungs in a shaky exhale. Had he taken it home? She hadn't seen it in the box of stuff she'd carried inside from his truck. She reached for her phone to call him and ask him, then remembered he was busy in the kitchen. He wouldn't answer, if he even had his phone on him. She could wait until she got home and ask him.

Stepping out of the office, she spotted Eve heading out the back door and stopped her. "Did you see the red apron hanging in the office?"

"The one with flour?" Eve asked.

Natalie nodded, a bundle of panic forming in her gut. "Yeah. I-it was Mom's."

Eve's expression softened. "I didn't know. When Mark was here this morning he took it down."

The panic fled and she let out a soft sigh. "He took it home?"

"Yeah. I offered to just throw it in the laundry but he said no." The woman's eyes flashed with sadness. "I hope I didn't upset him."

"You didn't, I promise. He told me once it would hang there until the place was no longer his."

"That's beautiful." Eve smiled sadly. "I wonder if…"

Her gaze drifted to her husband and Natalie knew what she was wondering. She doubted she should comment, since she didn't know them intimately, but she was already starting to nod. "Yes."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Penny cautiously circled the room, nose pressed to the floor. Her tail wagged slowly as she explored, occasionally snorting, and when she reached Oscar's boot she stopped, head tipping in confusion. Then, with a snort, she moved by him and slipped into the next room. It was the kitchen, and all Oscar could smell when he followed was the faint aroma of fresh paint, but she showed keen interest in all corners and especially in front of the stove. The dog circled the room again, tail wagging faster, and after giving a quick bark she trotted into the little utility room, tail banging against the washer and dryer. After a moment she was back, tongue lolling happily, and stopped in front of him.

"What do you think?" Oscar asked.

"I think I've seen a many things in my life, but I've never seen somebody need a dog's opinion before deciding to buy a house," Carlos said.

Oscar chuckled. "It's gonna be her home, too, if I buy it."

"You still don't know?" Carlos looked up from his phone.

Sighing, he looked around the kitchen. It was small, and the cabinets would need replacing. He had no idea if the L-shaped counter was enough space, or if the spot near the window would hold a table and chairs. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked again, imagining the things he would like to do. Turning, he did the same to the living room and thought of the two bedrooms and little bathroom. Nodding to himself, he leaned down to clip Penny's leash to her collar. She groaned lightly, still unused to it, perking up when he offered her a treat.

"I think I do," he said finally. But still he hesitated, Natalie's words the night before echoing in his mind.

With the bonus they're offering I could hire someone to help Dad out around the house.

It seemed she was leaning closer to moving to Atlanta, despite her whispers that she needed him.

He thought of the offer his father had given him. Back home, he would be close to his parents. Not that they needed him nearby. They seemed more energetic now than they had when he was a child. And even if they did need one of their children near, one of his sisters lived two houses down. But he would be close to home, even if it hadn't felt like home since his grandmother had died, and he would have steady work, even if it did feel like a nepotistic handout.

"I'll let you know for sure in a couple days," he told Carlos as they walked outside. Then, realizing the date, he chuckled. "Or maybe the first of the week?"

"You know where to find me," Carlos told him with a grin. "Or let me know at Mr. Webber's tomorrow?"

Penny buried her nose in the rosebush next to the steps as soon as her feet hit the ground.

"Mr. Wright grew that from a cutting his mother gave him." Carlos watched Penny sniff around the rosebush. "She grew hers from a cutting her mother gave her, and the story was that her grandparents brought he original plan over with them from Scotland."

"Is there one at his sister's?"

"Yes. We have one at home, Sasha was given a cutting when we moved in." Carlos shivered. "Weather's changing."

"Yeah," Oscar agreed, though he had no idea how the man could tell. It was almost warm, the sun peeking out occasionally from clouds that spit pitiful rain every few minutes. "I was hoping for a white Christmas."

"It'll happen." Carlos nodded.

Oscar squinted as the sunlight appeared, as though to prove the prediction wrong. "I'll take your word for it."

Promising to let Carlos know by the first of the week, Oscar opened his truck door. He unhooked Penny's leash after she jumped in, and waited until she had moved to sit on the passenger seat before climbing in. The dog gave a small whine after he started the engine and began to back out of the driveway, and he sighed as the sunlight disappeared and rain began to splatter on the windshield.

"I know, girl," he murmured. As he drove towards Max's house, he wondered if the dog would enjoy his old home.

***

Christmas Eve dawned, cold and cloudy. Natalie shivered when she pulled back the curtain and saw the heavy frost on the ground, sparkling in the early morning light. The sunlight was weak. When she looked up to the sky she could see clouds starting to creep in, and thought of her father's prediction for a heavy snow.

There was music playing in the kitchen when she got downstairs, and the smell of coffee and pancakes and sausage. She slipped around her father to fix her plate, quickly getting out of his way. The counters were covered with ingredients and utensils and the beginnings of his prep work for the food they'd eat that night. She ate her breakfast quickly, almost silently, her father too focused on his different stations to be conversational.

There was a fitful snow starting to fall when she rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Unsure what else to do, she pitched in to help her father get cookie dough and pastry dough ready to chill, mainly moving behind him to wash dirtied utensils and wipe off the floured surfaces once he finished. She wasn't needed, she realized when they bumped into each other the third time. At a loss, she finally washed her hands and looked out at the softly floating snowflakes.

"Max offered me a job," she blurted.

Mark stopped chopping pecans. "Did he?"

"At the bakery."

"Doing what?"

"What I've been doing." She paused. "He can offer me a decent pay."

"Do you want to?" he asked carefully.

"I think I do."

"What changed?" There was no hurt in his voice and for that she was glad.

"The bakery doesn't hurt anymore," she admitted. "And it would be part-time, so I could still do writing on the side. Plus, he needs the help."

"He doesn't."

"Eve's not gonna be able to help him out for long." She told him the news, enjoyed the warmth of his surprise and joy for them. One day, she hoped, she would be able to tell him that she would be having a baby and could only imagine his delight. At one point when she had imagined her future children they had been vague, dreamlike figures. When she closed her eyes and thought of them now, they had distinct grins and chocolate brown eyes.

"I thought you were going to Atlanta."

"I thought I was too," she whispered. Opening her eyes, she saw the tiny flakes were growing larger.

"Penny go?"

"Of course Penny's going. Mister Mark would turn us away if we didn't bring her." Max laughed and held up the pair of pants. "Get these on."

"Cookies."

"Not now, you'll ruin your appetite." Max grabbed his son's swinging leg and before Lucas could slip out of his grip he had the pants up to his knees. Then he paused. "…Do you need to pee?"

"Need cookie."

"You want a cookie. You don't need a cookie."

Lucas shook his head. "No want. Need."

Max sighed with defeat and turned to Oscar. "Help."

"Hey, you created him, I'm just the guy that spoils him rotten."

"He's got his mother's sweet tooth. Do you know what he had for breakfast this morning?"

"Yeah, waffles."

"Before that." Max tugged his son's pants up and caught him before he could slide off the bed. "Shoes, Lucas."

Oscar handed over a shoe. "What did he have?"

"Brownies."

Oscar stared at his friend. "You gave him brownies? And you're still alive?"

"Barely," Max muttered. "It's not my fault that he got his mother's pout, too."

"Not to mention your stubborn attitude," Oscar pointed out when Lucas began to crawl across the bed after one shoe had been slipped onto his foot.

"It took me two hours to get my ass out of trouble." Max leaned forward and dragged his son back towards him. "I don't even know if there is a rosebush that grows purple roses naturally."

"There is."

"Thank god." Max slipped the other shoe onto Lucas and stepped back with an exhausted sigh. "Done!"

Lucas slipped off the bed and stood, brow puckering, one hand clutching the edge of his mattress. "Pee."

"You've got to be kidding me." Max dragged a hand over his face. "I just asked—And you said—If I give you a cookie will you go pee in the potty?"

"Cookie!" Lucas squealed as he was scooped up, and his giggles rang in the air while Max hurried into the bathroom. "Cookie for pee!"

Laughing, Oscar pushed himself to his feet. "You're bribing him."

"I'm doing whatever works. I'm trying to get some headway on this before the baby comes."

"That's months away."

"Do you not know how long potty training can take?" Max snorted. Then his voice softened. "You done?"

"Pee."

"Yeah, son, pee. Have you finished peeing?"

"Cookie."

"After you pee."

"Cookie."

"In a minute."

There was absolute silence. Oscar counted along in his head, biting back a laugh as the seconds stretched on. Then, triumphantly, Lucas clapped. "Cookie now!"

"I don't have a cookie right now."

Lucas's long-suffering sigh was audible even to Oscar. "I done."

"I can't do this again," Max announced after helping his son wash his hands. "Grace was easy. He's stubborn as hell and has me wrapped around his finger. He pouts just like Eve and I give him whatever he wants."

"Grace has you wrapped around her finger, too," Oscar told him, following them into the hall.

"You're right," Max chuckled. Swinging Lucas up onto his hip, he headed down the stairs. "You ready to go?"

Oscar opened his mouth to say that he would drive himself, not wanting to be squeezed between the two car seats in the back of Max's SUV. His phone began to vibrate incessantly and he pulled it out, frowning when he saw Mr. Wright's name on the screen. "Yeah, almost. I'll meet you there."

He barely heard Max's reply, turning to go into the guest bedroom to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Oscar?"

"Yes, sir." He frowned, walking over to the window to glance out. It had snowed off and on for most of the day, but not heavily. The grass was covered and there was a soft dusting on the road. Squinting at the streetlamp at the corner of the lot, he couldn't see any evidence of anything falling.

"I just got an offer on the house and unless you want it, I'm gonna let them have it."

He almost asked who, but the man went on.

"Tommy's son is getting married in the spring. His girlfriend lives over in Lakefield and he brought her to take a look at the place this morning. She fell in love with it, and…" Mr. Wright sighed. "Have you made up your mind yet?"

He hadn't. So many things were up in the air at the moment. Drawing in a breath, he hesitated. Mr. Wright didn't rush him, and when he saw Max's car pull out of the drive he squeezed his eyes shut. "I…"

"We shouldn't stay long. It's really coming down."

"You don't have to stay. I'm just glad you stopped by." Natalie took a sip of her cocoa and slipped her arm around Susie's shoulders for a squeeze.

"We'll stay a bit longer. Michael is having so much fun."

Looking over to where the boy sat near the tree. He and Grace were chattering excitedly while building some sort of intricate tower using the building blocks Natalie had given Michael. Next to them was the half-finished page from Grace's new coloring book featuring horses and cowboys. Her gaze moved around the room, looking for Lucas, and she smiled when she saw him leaning to get another cookie from the platter on the coffee table.

Hannah was on the couch, talking animatedly with Amira and Sasha, who accepted Lucas when he crawled into her lap. George was squatting next to Mark's armchair, the two chatting while Lilli danced with Carlos to the song playing. Another glance showed Pato and Amira tucked close to each other, talking with Franco and Ollie and Mrs. Jones, who'd arrived with them. Max and Eve were sipping eggnog and talking to Esteban, who was inexplicably wearing a cowboy hat.

"Do you know Esteban and Max were joking around that Michael and Grace should get married?" Susie grunted. "At least, I hope they were joking."

"Arranged marriage?" Natalie asked with a grin.

"Pretty much." Susie was not amused. "It's so disgusting."

"Misogynistic," Natalie agreed with a nod.

"Oppressing and sexist."

Natalie looked on while Grace jumped to her feet and grabbed Michael's hand. The two walked to the center of the room, giggling, both staring up at the ceiling. Her gaze shifted and she saw the bundle of mistletoe her father had insisted she hang from the light fixture.

"Aww," Susie cooed.

Snapping her attention back to Grace and Michael, Natalie laughed. Michael's lips were pressed to Grace's cheek. She could hear the exaggerated smack of the kiss, and then again when Grace kissed his cheek. Giggling, they skipped back over to the blocks and resumed their play.

Natalie turned to her friend. "Then again, they may have a point."

"Guess I should drag Esteban over for a kiss."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Like he needs mistletoe to kiss you."

"No, but it's tradition." Susie smoothed the front of her sweater and flicked her hair over her shoulders. "Excuse me."

Shaking her head, she watched Susie move across the room to her husband, who was still chatting with Eve. Max had been with them, and she now saw he had stepped into the dining room. She watched him frown at his phone before slipping it into his pocket, and when he reentered the living room she softly called his name.

"Have you heard from Oscar?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Everyone else had arrived nearly an hour before. She hadn't worried, because he had promised he was coming. He had sent her a text just before Pato and Amira had gotten there, saying he would be a little late. Reaching to pull her phone from the pocket of her jeans, she groaned when she saw it had died.

"I just called him, it's going to voicemail."

"Did his phone die again?" she sighed, setting her mug of cocoa on the mantle and heading into the kitchen. "That happened the night of that bad storm a couple weeks ago."

"Either that or he turned it off. He does that when he's got to think about something."

Plugging up her phone, Natalie drummed her fingers on the counter for the entire three minutes it took for the device to charge enough to power on. It seemed to take twice as long for the Apple logo to appear, and four times as long before the lock screen finally loaded. She unlocked it, then gave the phone time enough to catch any missed calls, voicemails, or texts.

"Anything?" Max asked, looking up from his own phone.

She opened the text she had received and frowned, confused, as she read the words that had been sent more than thirty minutes before.

I'm coming. I've just got to figure a couple things out. I might not be able to get the house. I might take the job with Dad. But I need to know what you're gonna do. I know I shouldn't make life decisions based on just four weeks of knowing someone but I am.

"Well?"

"I've gotta go," she blurted, pushing away from the counter. Max stumbled when she bumped into him, and she muttered a quick apology as she heard his phone hit the floor. Hurrying out of the kitchen, she noticed but didn't really see Esteban and Susie kissing sweetly beneath the mistletoe. It occurred to her as she snatched her coat off the rack that she should tell her father where she was going, but she heard his warm laugh and decided she didn't have time.

The snow was coming down thick and heavy. The street was white and she walked quickly as she could, slightly lightheaded from the snow whirling around her. When she reached the corner of Halifax Street her steps quickened, and she heard the snow crunch beneath her boots as she reached the beautiful Victorian house. Bedecked in lights, trees twinkling through the upstairs windows and the large window downstairs, it positively glowed with warmth. She skidded to a stop, gasping, and saw that Oscar's truck wasn't in the driveway. She looked at the house again. The lights and snow created an aura of merriment and she could almost feel the joy that would fill the house in the coming years.

She wanted that joy for herself.

Where was he? She walked to the driveway to make sure his truck wasn't there. Saw only Eve's car backed up to the garage. Turning, she began to slowly walk back down the street, barely feeling the cold or the snowflakes landing on her cheeks. He was going to leave. She couldn't blame him. Guaranteed work, close to his parents. She didn't want him to stay here just for her, even if she had called Katie that afternoon and told her she wouldn't be taking the job. Even if she had thought of seeing him every day at the bakery while she worked for Max, who'd seemed overjoyed when she had pulled him into the kitchen as soon as he'd arrived to tell him she would stay on. And when she'd confirmed her father's appointment for pre-op bloodwork the next week, she had thought of Oscar's comforting presence while she waited during her father's surgery, and his easygoing company in those first days after her father came back home to recover.

Stopping on the corner, she wiped the mixture of tears and melted snow from her cheeks, groping in her coat pocket for a tissue. Oscar would leave, and she would stay, and every time Max or Eve mentioned him she would think of everything that could have been.

She was about to start walking again when she heard a dog start barking. It was too loud and clear for it to be inside one of the nearby houses, and she glanced around. Turning, she heard the bark again, coming from down Brickyard Avenue. Funny, but it almost sounded like Penny, she thought, finally finding a crumpled tissue to use to wipe her face. The snowfall grew heavier and she sniffled, about to continue on her way home when movement caught her eye.

A small dog coming up the street. It passed below a streetlamp and she saw the green dog sweater. She blinked in surprise as it bounded towards her. "Penny?"

Of course it was Penny. No other dog in town that she had seen had the same coat and coloring. As the dog approached she heard the jingle of her collar. Glad as she was to see the dog, worry pricked through while she squatted to greet Penny with a hug.

"Where's—"

"Natalie!"

There he was. Coming up the street in a jog, breath fogging around him. Penny ran back towards him and Natalie followed, stride lengthening to close the distance. "Where—"

"My truck broke down, I turned my phone off so I could think, and I left it at the house." He stopped, catching her arm when her boots slid on the snow. "I had to run see Mr. Wright."

"What hap—"

"I don't know, I think it's the alternator. I left it out at Mr. Wright's." He drew in a breath. "I bought the house."

"What?" she gasped, grasping the front of his coat.

"I'm staying. I couldn't let someone else get it, because when I took Penny to take a look yesterday she loved it and because I kept seeing things I wanted to do with the house and the land. It's taking all my savings, and I'll have to eat ramen for a year, but I want it. For the first time since I broke up with Lauren I want to own a house." He was breathless, either from excitement or his run. "Mr. Harrell was at Mr. Wright's, and he said he needs someone to do maintenance on his rentals."

Natalie nodded, though he was speaking so fast she could barely keep up.

"I start week after next. Doing what I did for Max and Eve. It's not gonna be easy, but I know I can do it." He paused and swiped snow from his cheeks. "I don't know what you're gonna do, Natalie, but I have to stay here. Yeah, I know I'm falling in love with you, but I fell in love with this town and all the crazy people in it."

"I'm staying," she told him before he could continue. "Max wants me to stay at the bakery, and Dad needs me. And I'll be able to do my writing. I don't know if I'll find anything I can do remotely, but I'll try. If nothing else I'll start a blog or maybe write that book I've wanted to write since I was a kid. I can't leave again, because if I do I know I'd never come back—"

"Thank god," he breathed, pulling her to him.

"What?" she whispered after his lips pressed to her forehead.

"You're staying. And not for me."

"You're a little bit of the reason—"

"You're staying because you love your dad and you love the bakery enough to help it keep going and because you love this little town," he insisted.

"Yeah," she admitted with a small laugh. "I do."

"And I'm staying because I love this little town and I love being close to my idiot friend and I love that little house."

At their feet, Penny barked.

"And I couldn't take her away. She'd never forgive me for taking her away from Mark."

"Neither would he," she said.

"I'm glad you're staying," he murmured. His arms wrapped around her.

"I'm glad you're staying," she returned. Leaning against him, she felt a giddiness rise up within her as his words finally registered in her brain. "And I'm falling in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He grinned, his beautiful, adorable grin that warmed her heart.

"Yeah," she whispered just as his lips found hers.

She pulled back moments later, a little dizzy and weak, and gazed up at him. "Come on, Dad's gonna get worried when he realizes I left the party. And there's presents waiting for you."

"Presents?"

"Dad got you something. I did, too."

"I think Max brought my gifts with him," he said, keeping one arm around her as they began to walk. He called to Penny, who trotted alongside them until they reached Natalie's street. Then the dog gave a tiny yip and bounded ahead. Oscar laughed, tucking Natalie closer to his side. "What did you get me?"

"I won't tell you everything, but one of them is a phone charger for your truck."

"A charger." He nodded. "Useful."

"You need it."

"I do."

"What did you get me?" she asked, watching Penny jump up the steps and onto the front porch. Her friends' cars and trucks and Max's SUV were still parked out front and she was glad. All those closest to her would be there to celebrate both her news and Oscar's news. Penny began to scratch at the door and she tried to remember if she'd placed a towel near the door to catch snow. The dog would need a good rub down.

"I won't tell you everything," Oscar chuckled. "But one of them is a book."

"A book?"

"Yeah. It'll come in handy, since you're going to keep working at the bakery."

"What is it?" She stopped halfway up the walk, waving to her father when he opened the door. Oscar waved, too. Mark waved back with the towel he was holding, then closed the door after Penny slipped inside the house.

Oscar turned to her, arm slipping around her waist and drawing her close. "A cookbook."

"A cookbook," she repeated, lifting her eyebrows.

"Baking for Dummies."

Before she could give an indignant reaction, he swept her close and kissed her. She laughed against his lips, too full of hope and joy to be outraged by his gift. She heard the front door open again, music and laughter spilling outside.

Pato's voice rang out, disgusted. "What the hell is with you two and standing outside in the cold?!"

The End

[theadventurerslog]

Discworld | Part 4

The Adventurer's Log

Accidental hiatus but I'm back. To recap I was struggling and needed one more ingredient for the spell to find the dragon's lair. I called my last post a chronicle of errors. It was even more so than I knew. I said may the search not lead me to even more agony. It did, just not in the way I expected. I started out here on the search for the still-needed magic coil.

I did some wandering, checking out places again with no luck until I thought to go back to the alley rooftops as it had been a while since I'd been there and I hadn't checked it out as thoroughly as other places. Surprise, surprise I had missed a tower in the background I could get to. I got over there to dangle off a flag pole and get a nice view of the dragon. Also a conversation with Death who happened to be passing by.

Rincewind is not willing to let go of life at this point in time, so Death headed off. Just another day in Rincewind's life.

The flagpole had a tip at the end to interact with. I was thinking through items that could hang there and the mirror had string to hang with. Of course I had to go back down to ground level since the Luggage wasn't going to be getting up here. Put Rincewind's pockets to use. I do wish he could carry two items though. Have some options.

I wasn't sure what the mirror would do if this worked at all--maybe shine light somewhere useful?

It did work and light was shone around...catching the attention of the dragon who flew over to admire itself.

Then it blew flame at the mirror breaking the string and the mirror fell all the way back down to be caught by the lovely Luggage. I went to check out what the state the mirror was in now and...

and...

Dragon Breath... a breathed-on-mirror for my dragon breath. Which, yeah, makes sense...but...argh! Certainly makes more sense than what I had thought with the hair roller.

The hair roller was the magic coil all along; the thing I'd been looking for was already found... I mean the connection--brimstone!--had felt awfully tenuous but I'd made it before realizing the magic coil was even a thing, thinking I only needed four ingredients and it just...stuck. Not one of my finer moments.

Venting through save file names.

But hey, at least I've got them all now! Now it was time for my triumphant return to the Archchancellor. For real this time.

At last all the ingredients! Forget the bumbling and mistakes!

And the Archchancellor put them all together into a dragon detecting device. Rincewind meanwhile has a whole pile of gold in his head to daydream about it, so decides he wants that detector himself. With the ye olde "look behind you something weird" trick, Rincewind distracted the Archchancellor and grabbed the device for himself. Now I know we're in an alternate universe because book Rincewind would be fleeing at top speed with the device handled and out of his hands. He gets to go back to boring? Yes please! On the other hand the call of gold and riches is strong I suppose.

Anyway, I was thrown back out into the city map and had to run around it until I got some good rapid beeping and a new location was revealed. A barn.

The dragon's lair! Gold!

Gold gold gold! But once all the gold was loaded into the Luggage, the dragon made itself known. Uh oh.

Or less uh oh as it turns out. The dragon isn't happy about being dragged here. A secret brotherhood has control of him and has been using him for their evil deeds. He just wants to go back to his own dimension of rest. So, the dragon makes a request: find the brotherhood and find each of the six gold artifacts they used to summon and control him. Bring the artifacts to him and he can sever the connection they have over him. First go find the one who stole the book of summoning from the Unseen University library. Also get moving because he can feel himself being built up for another rampage. Good times!

And it's time for Act II! Is this a 2 act game or a 3 act game (probably 3?)? Or more! I have no idea.

I missed the Act I image at the start of the game, so here's II at least.

Before I left the lair I also found and grabbed a screwdriver.

Knowing I needed to track down a book thief I headed back to the library for clues. I didn't get anything useful out of the Librarian but I did still have the sleazy man to deal with.

Something I may have forgotten to mention last time, but if not, reminders certainly don't hurt, is that this guy wasn't willing to give his golden banana for anything...except maybe all the gold in the kingdom. So I started handing him all the dragon gold and Rincewind convinced him that was indeed in all the gold in their kingdom, well democracy. Sorry, Rincewind, didn't get to stay rich for long. I was given the golden banana and showing it to the Librarian led him to opening a door into L-Space. So, I went into L-Space.

It brought me to a past night in the Library where I was able to see a thief come in, steal the book and leave through a secret passage. Leaving L-Space and coming back resets things.

I tried taking the book myself and leaving and ended up in Death's Domain. I think that's where it was meant to be anyway.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse were playing some kind of card game and after some silly conversation I was booted back out. I assume my efforts were paradox causing. So no taking the book!

What I was actually meant to do was follow the thief into the secret passage, where I was brought back out to the city but at night.

The thief ran around for a while before he finally settled at a new location to go check out.

There's a drainpipe and rain barrel. Might be relevant but I haven't found how yet. The forbidding door had a forbidding knocker I could use.

Brother Doorkeeper talked through the door slot but refused to say anything because Rincewind is clearly not part of the brotherhood. Not even dressed right. Nothing forbidding or black about him.

I assume I need something black to wear. I see a few possibilities: steal something, dye something, or I dunno, singe his clothing? Probably not that third option but who knows!

I left to explore night Ankh-Morpork some more.

I found Rincewind passed out drunk on the park bench from that counterwise wine had earlier. There was also a butterfly.

I also found a butterfly. A multiverse of ramifications. Of course I tried to catch it with the net; what could go wrong? It flew up to the lamp and stayed there out of reach.

I carried on.

I was able to go to the inn and enter the room. There was the guy who had been...will be? in the Broken Drum. I remembered his story about being scared of some eldritch being entering his room and stealing his gate pass. All the steps were told! But I seem to need some way to get him to seemingly pass out, or Rincewind won't go far because the guy is all alert. The guy had talked about the being bursting through the door, so something there? I also have no need for a gatepass right now anyway. So, something for future referennce?

I went to the Street as well, which mostly didn't have much for me, but Igneous's pottery shop was open and I was able to snag a pot off the window sill. I think he's the same troll as the one at the Psychia-trickerist's too?

I couldn't find anything else to do, so I headed back through L-Space to the current day, figuring I could maybe find something helpful to bring back. Back in the present time I didn't really know what to do or where to go so I did the rounds checking everywhere again. Lots of stuff changed.

Palace: The guards wouldn't let me pass and I couldn't get them to knock each other out to sneak by like before.

Park: The lamp now had water and a fish swimming in it. That was sure some butterfly.

Inn: The rom was now accessible. I found some bubble bath in its bathroom

Cite Gate: A crate with fireworks and a keg of gun powder. I got to take both...

Sator Square: One of the old men was collapsed with a poison dart. Or faking it? The others weren't concerned anyway.

The amazon woman was deciding to take a different approach to the men slaughtering for severity-based attacks based on severity of the lust

The UU chef was in the stockade

Unseen University: The Archchancellor was gone from the room

There was cornflour to get in the kitchen

I was able to light a match and light a lamp in the storage closet so I could actually see. I found starch on a shelf - New Jiffy-bril instant starch - stiffens anything

In the back area that leads to the kitchen I was able to take a garbage can full of garbage. Yay? Street: The fish monger had some different stuff to say that was still not helpful. Mostly punny.

There's a monk of Offler preaching on the corner. He's always been there, but I think I may have skipped mentioning him before. He has dark robes so there's promise there but beats me what to do if there's anything to that. He's also really annoying because the text and his mouthing lasts way longer than the actual voicing and actions are stalled until he shuts up. Briefly. Before the next line.

The bargain bin stock in the toy shop changed and I got a Hogfather doll.

The woman left the barber but I couldn't find anything to do with the now-empty chair.

Alley: The alchemist has made progress towards clickies but hasn't had any luck getting good actors

The tile that launches you up to the rooftops doesn't seem to work anymore.

Livery Stable: I grabbed more corn for the sake of having more corn because why not. Still don't know what to do about the donkey

Hideout: I can now access it in the present, but couldn't find anything to do there. In fact I couldn't seem to even use the knocker.

Broken Drum: Didn't see anything more I could do. That said, I probably could stand to check it out more thoroughly again.

And after all that I'm not sure what to do now. I need Secret Brotherhood-worthy clothing, somehow...

Just because I could, I used my matches with the firecrackers and lit one. So... now I have a lit firecracker hanging out in the Luggage. Not dangerous at all!

Otherwise, I've probably just missed something. That's usually the case. I am piling up a lot of inventory items though. Hopefully I'll be back with mission accomplished and getting a good start on finding those artifacts. Is bringing those golden artifacts to the dragon a good idea? I have some doubts. Dragons are tricky, but we shall see. Either way being under control of the brotherhood is bad too. Or maybe he is totally on the up and up and will go back home when released. For now? I wander! And hopefully solve problems.

[buck-buck-boose]

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I am... so sorry for taking so long. I was not expecting the start of the semester to be so hectic. I can't promise I'll go back to posting as regularly as during the summer, but I can promise that I'm not disappearing. I promise. I WILL SEE THIS FANFIC THROUGH EVEN IF IT KILLS ME. Thank you for the kind words and support while I've been MIA. Enjoy a chunky chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Saint Lottie

October 27, 1943

“I’m worried about her, Betty.”

“I know, Gladys. I know.”

Lottie couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full night’s rest. Days seemed to bleed into each other, with no slumber to distinguish today from tomorrow. It wasn’t long after arriving at Azzano that she realized that he wasn’t waiting for her. Bucky was gone. In his place, dozens of men awaited her arrival with sunken eyes and twitching lips that begged for relief, whether it be through a healing touch or a final blow to the head.

When the realization hit Lottie, there wasn’t much she could do besides throwing herself into her work; if she couldn’t help Bucky, the least she could do was help his brothers in arms. Although anxiety ate her up from the inside out, Lottie had confidence in Bucky’s abilities. He wouldn’t let himself die in some POW camp, he just wouldn’t. Because then who would take care of her and Steve? He’d fight tooth and nail to get back to them, she just knew it.

She threw herself into her work, rarely stopping long enough to have a proper conversation or a full meal; this bad habit of hers came to a halt, though, when she came upon a boisterous redhead in need of stitches. Lottie had been deep in thought while examining the gash above his forehead when the soldier cracked a grin and peered up at her without moving his head too much.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lottie shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Private—” she glanced at his dog tags, “—O’Connor.”

“Ever done pinup? Maybe I know you from one of those cheesecakes we’ve got hanging up.” The man— more of a boy really, with his lanky frame and jovial smile —wiggled his eyebrows and ruined her diligent work of cleaning the blood from his wound.

The question left Lottie flustered; the idea of dozens of men gawking at her scantily clad figure left her feeling mortified, “Certainly not! I find that my talents are better suited for healing.”

O’Connor nodded and inspected her face carefully as she went to work on his gash once more. “I’ve got it!” Lottie nearly jumped away from him when he clapped his hands together, “You’re Little Saint Lottie, in the flesh!” The boy crowed his revelation, earning him glares from the other men recovering in the medic tent.

Lottie nearly dropped the needle that she’d been preparing to thread, “Excuse me?”

“Ah, it’s a funny story,” O’Connor chuckled, “Y’see, Sarge had this little photo he’d take everywhere. Always had it in his pocket, tucked in his helmet, you name it. Wouldn’t let the damn thing go. Anyway, we stole it out of his fatigues one day while he was cleaning up in some river ‘cause we wanted to see what the big deal was. Once we saw it was some dame—” Lottie shot him a look, “—lady, we started yanking his chain about it. He was just about as obsessed with that photo as my Ma is with her holy cards, so when he finally told us your name, we dubbed you ‘Little Saint Lottie,’ patron saint of the one hundred and seventh. That kinda pissed him off, but it’s not like you’re his girl, y’know? Though he sure acted like you were.”

Lottie was speechless. About halfway through his story, her mouth had dropped open and her hands had fallen to her lap. Here she was, looking dumb as an ox, while the soldier in front of her chuckled with childish glee.

“Me and the guys would even ask for your intercession whenever the chaplain came by to pray with us. Poor guy had no clue which saint we were talkin’ about. We tried to give it a place of honor in the tent but Sarge made us run laps when he found out we’d nicked it again.”

O’Connor nearly doubled over in laughter as he watched Lottie’s expression grow in horror. “Well as I’m sure Bucky— Sergeant Barnes has told you, I’m no saint. I’m just a nurse. Now hold still, unless you want these stitches to be more painful than they already are.” Before she could stop herself, the question came tumbling out of her mouth, “Speaking of Sergeant Barnes, do you know—” she fumbled with the needle as she made the first stitch, “—is he alright? Did you see him?” The soldier let out a hiss of pain, “Yeah, I got a glimpse of him while they were takin’ him away. He was battered but alright. There’s no man quite like Sarge, I know he’ll be back. He’d fight tooth and nail to get back. That’s what he said at least, ‘cause he always went on and on about how you needed him and all that. He sure talked about you an awful lot for a guy who hasn’t even asked you to go steady.”

Lottie’s breath hitched at the final comment, the mere idea of going steady with Bucky reducing her to a stuttering schoolgirl. She began to tie off his stitches, “We’ve been best friends for over a decade, it’s perfectly normal to care for each other deeply without bringing affection into it.”

O’Connor shrugged, which jostled her arm slightly, “I’ve never heard a guy talk about his best friend like that.”

Lottie didn’t respond. She gave his fully sutured wound one last glance, “Looks like you’re all set. Now don’t do anything stupid to get it infected.”

He gave her a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows, Lottie nearly scolded him but held her tongue, “As you wish, Saint Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and moved along to the next bed, where another soldier waited with a smile just as wide. It seemed that these men had become pleased as punch to know their patroness had come to grace them with her presence.

The USO’s visit to their camp took Lottie completely by surprise. She’d spent so much time floating from one medic tent to the next that she’d ended up completely out of the loop of the camp’s other goings-on. It wasn’t until she saw the fully-erected stage in the middle of camp that she realized. Her heart beat powerfully within her; with Steve here, she would be one step closer to finding Bucky. One step closer to bringing him home. “They say he’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Mary beamed, obviously giddy to see the Star-Spangled Man up close and in the flesh.

Lottie returned her smile, though it was weak. The weariness was starting to catch up to her, making her feel much older than a youthful twenty-three. Her stomach was in knots with anxiety; she needed to get to Steve as soon as possible.

Betty stood with them as they watched the hustle and bustle of preparations, “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones looking forward to seeing Captain America. All these boys care about is seeing a bunch of girls dancing for them on stage, not some hunk of meat in a red, white, and blue suit.”

Nancy, who had just joined the conversation, scoffed, “It’s quite disappointing how little you think of these men and their patriotism.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “They’re still men, Nancy. Scantily clad women or a guy singing about war bonds? They’re gonna prefer the women.”

Several hours later, Gladys was indeed proven right. Although he’d been driven off-stage with jeers and taunts, Lottie was waiting for him with a warm embrace.

“Hey, Lottie,” She could hear the smile in his voice, she felt its warm timbre as it surrounded her and reminded her of home.

“Good to see ya, Stevie.”

Steve pulled away from her and gazed around the camp, a grimace growing on his features, “Things don’t look to good around here.”

Lottie nodded, a twin grimace gracing her lips, “The hundred and seventh started out with two hundred men. Now they’ve only got fifty left. They’re barely holding on.”

Steve’s gaze shot to hers the moment she mentioned the one hundred and seventh, “Lottie that’s— this is Bucky’s—” The desperate look in his eyes made her own calm exterior begin to crack.

“Stevie, I know,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes, “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s not here. They— Those bastards took him, damn them!” For the first time since arriving at camp, Lottie cried. She sobbed and clung to Steve once more, feeling every bit like a scared little girl from days gone by.

Steve rested his hand against her back, “I’ll get him out, Lottie. He’s gotta be alive and I’ll get him out.”

She shook her head and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, “No, Steve. You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Lottie, you know I can’t put you in harm’s way like that—”

“Steve. I’m serious. What do you think I was doing that whole time I was with the SSR? Yes, we were making the serum, but they nearly trained us to death. I can shoot, I can use my knife. I can’t let you go without me.” Her voice was starting to crack, “We have to find Bucky together.”

There was silence between the two of them until Steve finally conceded, a wary gaze in his eyes, “Fine. But you need to be by my side the whole time.” Lottie nodded her chest warming with hope. “C’mon, we need to have a conversation with Colonel Philipps.”

The two of them jogged to his tent with their coats held above their heads to shield them from a sudden shower of rain. They entered the colonel’s tent, looking comical with their wet hair and heaving chests. Around them, soldiers and officials paced to and fro, examining maps or signing off various forms. If Lottie squinted, she could just barely make out the words. Letters of condolences; heartbreakingly clinical letters of regret for the losses of these sons, these brothers, these boys.

“Colonel Phillips,” Steve began, “Are you planning a rescue mission? For the surviving prisoners from the Battle of Azzano?”

The colonel looked back at him with a straight face, “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

Steve’s blond eyebrows furrowed, “But if you know where they are why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save, but I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” before Lottie could protest, he shot her a glance as well, “and you’re just a nurse.”

Steve’s gaze on Colonel Phillips was cool, “I think I understand just fine.”

The colonel pushed past them, “Well then understand it somewhere else. Now if I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

Steve grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her behind him, “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going. You go get changed.”

Lottie nodded; her medical uniform would impede this mission so she’d need to wear the fatigues that the government had finally issued to them. Her heart raced a mile a minute as she scrambled back to the nurse’s tent to change. She knew that Colonel Philipps would be terribly angry once he found out she’d shirked her night duties, but her loyalties to Bucky took precedence. The recovering soldiers were left in the capable hands of her peers. She swore as she nearly toppled over while yanking her boots on; it was rather hard to get dressed in such a hurry. By the time she was ready and had exited the tent, she was met with the somber faces of Agent Carter and Steve.

“Agent Carter, what are you doing?” For a moment, she feared that they’d already been caught, that the SSR was already putting an end to their mission.

The other woman pursed her lips, “I’m here to help.”

A mere half-hour later and they found themselves in the SSR’s plane, headed to Krausberg, where the POW camp was located. Howard Stark called out to them from the cockpit, “We should be able to drop you right at their doorstep.”

Fear was starting to creep into Lottie’s mind and burrowed itself deep within her gut. She heard the conversation continue all around her, but she was still processing the daunting mission before her. She and Steve up against Hydra. All alone. Even Bucky had struggled against them; he’d lost to them in the Battle of Azzano. Bucky. That’s what worried her most. It’s what filled her with the most fear. If she and Steve got through the Hydra camp safe and sound only to find that he was dead, Lottie wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. She’d probably go mad, in all honesty. She’d end up in some institution, crying over lucky pennies and charcoal drawings while being molly-coddled by some woman in white. How tragic that would be.

Before her thoughts could become any darker, Lottie was jolted back to reality by the sound of bullets against metal. Steve grabbed his shield and her arm, urging her to join him by the plane’s exit.

Agent Carter shot up from her seat, “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

He turned to respond, “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” “You can’t give me orders!”

A smile grew on his face, “The hell I can’t! I’m a captain!”

Steve shifted his goggles and nudged Lottie, “It’s go time. When you see me pull the chute out, you do the same.”

Lottie nodded with a quiet determination, and together, they jumped.

Entering the base was painstakingly quiet; once they’d snuck into a truck and eliminated the guards inside, Steve and Lottie were left to mouth words and offer silent support through unwavering gazes. Once they’d safely passed the gate of the base, they exited the truck and swiftly dealt with any opposition.

Steve led her across the base with caution, giving hand signals when it was safe to turn a corner and sprint across a patch of unobstructed space. The two of them traveled with the shadows, avoiding any spotlights that could catch them in the act. Lottie scarcely felt that she could breathe, it was as if one exhale would reveal their presence to the multitude of guards.

Once they entered the main building, the two of them found themselves in what seemed to be a factory. There were giant sheets of metal everywhere and huge bombs seemed to surround them. Amongst them all, Hydra soldiers transported other metal parts and containers of glowing blue material. That did not bode well with Lottie at all.

Lottie spotted some guards walking to a lower level, jangling keys in hand. “Steve, they might be guarding the prisoners.” Her whisper was barely audible, fear keeping her from speaking any louder.

“The blueprints said they were below the manufacturing level. C’mon.”

They followed the guards onto a walkway that had large circular grates that cut into the metal, each forming the ceiling of small cells that the poor prisoners had been separated into. Lottie and Steve knocked the guards out and stole their keys. The two dropped to the same level as the cells and began unlocking their doors.

One of the soldiers gazed at them through the bars of his cell, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Steve panted from stress, “I’m Captain America.” He gave Lottie an expectant look.

“I guess I’m Little Saint Lottie,” she responded somewhat sarcastically, referencing the retrospectively comical nickname that was developed by the one hundred and seventh.

Some of the men cracked grins, “So you’ve heard our prayers, huh?”

“Loud and clear. Now let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She tried to ignore the growing horror inside of her upon the realization that none of these men had brilliant blue eyes. Not a dimpled chin in sight.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” It seemed that the same horror was growing within Steve.

A man in a scarlet beret responded, his British accent prim and proper, “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. We’ll meet you guys out in the clearing with anyone else we find.”

“Wait, you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

Lottie couldn’t help but stare at Steve in amazement. Gone was that awkward boy from Brooklyn. He was a man now, a leader who could do anything he put his mind to. He’d grown so much, not just physically, but in his character.

While the prisoners worked their way out of the base, Steve and Lottie began their search for the isolation wards. Lottie tried to ignore the sounds of explosions and men crying out from below them while they traveled across metal catwalks. She could only hope that the cries of pain were coming from Hydra soldiers.

After turning several corners, they found themselves in an old hallway, surrounded by brick on both sides. They hurried down the corridor out of desperation; they knew they were running out of time. Lottie stopped suddenly when she heard a groan. It was close. She drew her weapon and dragged Steve into the room, her heart stuttering and her palms slick with sweat.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…” That voice. Oh, how she knew that voice; she loved it so. Lottie heard it whenever she found the time to fall asleep. It crept into her sweetest dreams but tore her apart whenever it wiggled its way into her nightmares.

Bucky lay in front of them, strapped down to a table; his lips moved ever so slightly as he repeated the same phrase over and over again.

She rushed to his side alongside Steve and nearly let out a cry of happiness. Had the situation not been so dire, she would’ve descended upon him with a bone-crushing embrace and great big sobs of joy by that point.

Lottie whispered a quiet, “Bucky?” His eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape, “Is that— is that—”

“It’s us, Buck,” Steve nodded reassuringly as he tore at the straps across Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked up at him, taking his face in,

“Us?”

“Me and Lottie,” he nodded, tugging her closer so that the two of them could be in Bucky’s field of vision.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, finally feeling whole again. She’d gotten her Brooklyn boys back. Bucky only looked back in confusion, “Little Lottie, she— she’s always been here. Always. Stayed with me the whole time.”

It was Lottie and Steve’s turn for confusion. Lottie brushed the hair back from his forehead to calm him down and ground him, “Bucky, I’ve been with the SSR this whole time. We’re here to rescue you.”

Steve nodded and dragged him off the table, “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky was obviously having a hard time processing everything that was happening, “I thought you were smaller.”

Lottie listened as the gunfire intensified, “Come on, we need to move.” Steve threw one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder and the two fell into step behind her.

“What happened to you?” Bucky grunted out, pain etched into his voice.

“I joined the army.”

“Did it hurt?”

Steve was growing agitated, “A little.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Lottie huffed, “I’d sure hope so after all that effort I put into it.”

Bucky mustered out a befuddled, “Huh?”

“I helped to create the serum that made him like that.”

“So that’s why you left without saying a word.” Bucky’s tone was only slightly accusatory.

Lottie muttered a weak “Yeah.” They’d need to have a lengthier conversation once he wasn’t struggling to walk five yards.

As they crossed the catwalks to get towards the exit, the factory below them began to combust. Huge flames erupted from the metal contraptions and triggered explosions all around them. They hastily climbed the metal stairs to get to higher ground.

“Captain America, how exciting!” A thick German accent cut through the noise of explosions and gunfire. “I am a great fan of your films!” Before them stood two men; one was a short little fellow clad in a jacket and fedora. The other was tall and wore a distinguished Hydra uniform with its menacing crest emblazoned on his shoulder.

The taller of the two gave Captain America a once over as he strode across the catwalk that separated them, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Steve snarled and punched the man in the face. The swift blow caused a blotch of redness to appear near his eye and a sinking feeling of realization settled into Lottie’s stomach. This was Schmidt, the monster who used the serum prototype.

Before she could say anything, Schmidt struck back and left a dent in Steve’s shield, “Haven’t I?”

There was a brief scuffle before Schmidt backed off while the other man pulled a lever, pulling the catwalk apart. With a grin, Schmidt began pulling at the skin of his face and revealed fiery red muscle and tissue beneath, just as Lottie had seen when she first began experimenting with the formula. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?”

Steve never got an answer. Schmidt and the other man had already boarded an elevator and left them standing on the catwalk, nearly helpless.

Another explosion went off, cueing the trio to leave, “C’mon, let’s go. Up.” Lottie instructed the men to follow her, though she wasn’t too sure how to escape the factory. All she knew was that they needed to keep ascending the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were faced with a metal beam that led to a catwalk with an exit. It was terrifyingly slim, with only enough room to place one foot in front of the other.

“Ladies first,” Bucky murmured, “but I’ll be right behind you.” Lottie felt sure of herself knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to cross on her own.

She took a tentative first step, testing how well it would hold her weight. Lottie tried not to look down at the fiery pit below while she carefully moved along the beam. It was a comfort to have Bucky behind her with his chest nearly pressed against her back as he followed her every step. Lottie had just scrambled over the railing of the catwalk when a jarring explosion shifted the beam’s position and sent it careening downwards. She gasped in horror as Bucky leaped to grab onto the catwalk.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!”

Steve stared at the two of them from across the pit, “Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky slammed his fist on the railing, desperation tearing at his voice, “No, not without you!”

“Steve, please! We can’t just leave you here!” Lottie pleaded. Steve couldn’t die, not like this.

With a look of determination, Steve backed up and made a running jump to clear the gap between the two catwalks. An explosion threatened to swallow him up, but he made it over safely, although a little worse for wear.

Lottie and Bucky could only stare in amazement. Steve nodded to them both, “Let’s get outta here.”

Several ladders and a whole lot of dodging later, the trio found themselves trudging towards the tree line.

It was silent amongst the three of them; painfully, dreadfully silent. She decided it was time to break the silence, “Bucky, I—”

“Look, Little Lottie, I know you’re sorry, alright? And I forgive you. Even though you lied to my face and left without saying goodbye, I had a whole lotta time to spend forgiving you.”

Now that the fear of being caught by Hydra soldiers had fully subsided, Lottie allowed herself to let out a sob of joy and nearly threw herself at Bucky. She almost apologized for the force of her embrace since it was likely to hurt a man who’d been captured by Hydra, but he didn’t show any sign of pain. She’d need to remember that for later.

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I really did,” Lottie nearly whimpered. Gosh, she sure sounded lovesick. “I missed you too, Little Lottie.” His embrace was sure and strong, and with it, a flood of memories came back to her. Nights on her fire escape. A birthday evening spent swing dancing. A lucky penny slipped into her hand. For the first time in months, Lottie finally felt whole. Her heart that had been splintered into shards of pain and hopelessness had finally begun to mend itself back together. While she found comfort in his arms and forgiveness, she knew there were still so many words left unsaid; words that he needed and deserved to hear.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too,” Steve muttered, obviously peeved that he was being left out of their moment.

“Aw, come on, Stevie,” Lottie grinned and pulled away from Bucky a little to allow Steve to join their hug.

“And if I remember correctly, Bucky, I think it’s actually Little Saint Lottie now,” she grinned. While she couldn’t see his face at the moment, she just knew it was turning a gorgeous shade of scarlet, based on the sputtering coming out of his mouth.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Never Such A Blizzard Before

This is real long for a drabble, hope you like it @madygswich

Also I've posted this like 3 times now, it does not want to show in the tags man 😭

Packing for the holidays was not your favourite thing. All of your flatmates had already left for home, and from what you could tell the rest of the dorm had cleared out too. So naturally you did what anyone would do when they thought they were home alone… you turned up your Christmas music as loud as you could and danced around, clearing the rest of your mess from around the communal spaces. You were midway through a tango with the mop when you spotted him watching you from the apartment opposite yours. His nose is scrunched from the giggles you can’t hear through the glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as you quickly abandon your inanimate partner and duck into the safety of your bedroom. Of all moments for Jeon Jungkook to notice your existence, it had to be this one.

Jungkook was fairly well known around your dorm as the quiet cutie. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but he tended to stick to a fairly small friendship circle, much to all of the girls’ dismay. He was stunning. And there he was laughing at you.

You go to the turn your speaker down when it cuts out of its own accord. Frowning, you attempt to get it working again, but its no use. Then you notice the lamp on your desk had also gone out. Before you get a chance to test any of your other appliances, there’s a knock at the door. An equally puzzled looking Jungkook is now at your door. You open it for him to come in.

“Sorry to intrude on your… dance class? But nothing in my apartments working and you are the only other person I know is still here.” He states

“Yeah, my stereo and lights have all gone out too.” His brow furrows.

“Right okay, I’ll call the accommodation office. Hopefully, someone will still be there, and we can get this sorted soon.” Jungkook takes out his mobile and you take the chance to look at him up close. His new undercut does wonders for his jawline, the soft curl just adding to the effect. His lose-fitted black jumper and black skinny jeans suit him well, a signature style you’ve noticed. Despite his good looks Jungkook didn’t seem to like bringing too much attention to himself. Unfortunately, by concealing himself it just left more people wondering what was underneath. You are brought out of your thoughts when he scoffs at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

“What did they say?” You ask trying not to stare any longer.

“Powers out.” You roll your eyes at the blunt answer.

“Did they say how long?”

“Nope.” He says popping the p. “They didn’t seem to give a shit to be honest, looks like we are just going to have to keep ourselves entertained until it hopefully comes back on its own.” He shrugs and starts looking around your apartment. “I’m Jungkook by the way, your Y/N right?” he sits himself down at your kitchen table, swinging his legs on to the chair next to him.

“Um, yeah Y/N… Aren’t you supposed to be going home for Christmas?” you moved to feel the kettle and are relieved to find it’s still warm. “Drink?” you try to avoid his gaze as his eyes follow you around the room.

“I’ll take tea if you have it… but, yeah I’m going home but not for two days. My family aren’t even home right now so there wouldn’t be a point. Why are you still here?” it really feels like his eyes are going to bore a hole in the back of your head as you busy yourself.

“My family all work running up to the holidays, if I went home, I’d just be alone for the next week, at least this way I get to be alone without my mom yelling at me to wake up as she leaves in the morning.” You shrug and try not to dwell on it any longer. Placing the tea in front of Jungkook, you take a seat opposite him before taking a sip of your own drink. You savour the warmth in silence for a little while. Every so often one of you will catch the other looking, he starts pulling silly faces when you catch him, making you giggle in return. Eventually you find your way into an easy conversation, you tell him about your course. He listens like he actually cares about the mundane inner workings of your course work. You return the favour, asking intricate question about his film course, the only difference being you find his genuinely interesting.

“You got a pack of cards, and some torches?” He asks, sitting up right.

“We’re at university… of course I have a deck of cards, as long as you don’t mind the beer stains that is and I think there is a big torch in the place” You point to a cupboard by the door and he fetches them back.

“If we can’t use anything electronic, we might as well do some good old fashion gambling” there’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he shuffles the deck. “How about strip poker?” the look on your face must’ve been quite the picture as he starts laughing immediately. “Okay… how about alcohol? We can bet sips and shots, that’ll help warm us up too.” You nod and leave the room.

You return with a bottle of vodka, lemonade, and two red solo cups. You watch as he pours a dangerous amount of liquor into both cups followed by about a thimble of mixer. For someone who kept to himself so much, he sure was eager to get drunk with a stranger. You snatch the lemonade from his grasp and pour more into your cup. You start with blackjack, a civil game, 1 or 2 sips bet at most. You can’t help but giggle at the face he pulls trying to swallow his almost straight vodka. You then switch to schlumpf, a game with six rounds: the first four involve guessing the next card in the deck, the fifth is trying to get rid of those cards, the sixth involves only the person with the most cards - they must face the pyramid (climb up four layers of cards without turning a face card).

You find yourself fairly tipsy after a few rounds. Fairly tipsy and extremely cold…

“Hey, did we check if the heating worked?” Jungkook seems surprised by your question.

“No… we really should’ve huh?” the boiler is hidden in a cupboard in hallway, you rush from the room to check.

“Nothing” you sigh “Heating’s broken.” You call behind you, just to find Jungkook had come with you. You nearly smack straight into him as you turn back towards the kitchen. Your lips a hairbreadths away from his, tension building between the two of you. He glances at your lips and then back at your eyes, asking for permission, but you’ve already lost focus. Something catches your eye out of the large window and the end of your hallway.

“OH MY GOD!” you pull back from him a rush to look outside. He lets a frustrated breath out through his nose before following you to see what was going on. “It’s snowing!” he watches you as you watch the snow, admiring the adorable grin that has taken over your face. He takes in the way your eyes sparkle with the light from the streetlamps reflected in them.

“Wait what time is it?” he asks, suddenly aware of how dark it’s gotten outside. You hadn’t noticed the world dimming around your games. You glance at your watch and your eyes go wide.

“3am…” you look up at him and notice how close he is again. Stood directly behind you, if you took half a step back, you’d be in his arms. “Did you want to stay here… I mean it would be warmer if we stayed together… I mean if you want…” you stutter through stupid excuse to try to get him to stay the night.

“Yeah, you know what that seems like a great idea, sharing body heat or whatever.” His nose scrunches in the cutest way possible and he wraps an arm around your waist. “Anything to stay warm.” He whispers into your ear making you shiver. His embrace is gone as quickly as it was there. “Do you have enough blankets? Or do you want me to fetch mine? We could make a little fort to protect us.” There’s no way you’re turning down that offer. You settle in your bedroom and give him the torch and your door keys so he can go in search of more bedding. You sit there wrapped in your duvet a staring out the window and the settling snow until he comes back with more pillows than anyone should ever own in hand. He has also switch into a plain white t and grey sweats, a look classic enough to make anyone hot under the collar. You try not to focus too much on his pj’s focus the torchlight on your building site instead.

By the time you’re finished with construction, you are exhausted. You don’t really think about it as you cuddle into Jungkook amongst your mountain of pillows and blankets. All you know is you are cosier than you have ever been.

When morning arrives, you are all to aware of who you are snuggled up with, even more aware of his morning wood poking into your back. You wriggle a little, trying not to wake him, but he just sleepily pulls you back into him. You resign yourself to your fate and instead revel in the warmth his body provides.

“Good morning” he mumbles sleepily kissing your hair before realising where he is and who you are. “Oh um… sorry… that was weird.” He then swivels his hips as he realises what position you are in. He doesn’t, however, release you from his embrace. “Apparently I just can’t help myself around a pretty girl.” You feel the deep blush that creeps up your cheeks and try to hide it in his chest.

“It s’okay.” You mumble into him. He chuckles at your reaction and strokes at your hair.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“Look at me?” you pull your head back from your hiding spot and tilt your chin upwards, only to have your lips met with his. Slightly stale from sleep, but somehow still amazing. It doesn’t help the shyness you had been feeling, and it definitely doesn’t help the situation going on his sweats. He pulls away all too soon for you. “So… was that okay?”

“Yeah… yeah that was okay.” You’re a little breathless as you answer.

“Cool… so I’m going to go brush my teeth but, do you want to continue this when I come back? Or I can just not come back… completely up to you… although I do think it’s going to be really cold again today, and it did seem to work better with two people for heat and…” you cut off his nervous babble with another quick kiss before peeling back the covers and letting the cold air in.

“Continuing sounds great, but you better hurry because you’re going to get cold real quick, and if you think I’m going to let you back in here with cold hands, you’re dreaming.” You tease, gaining confidence in his sudden lack. His bunny smile shows as he leaps out of bed, practically running from your apartment to his. While he is gone you brush your own teeth and find your condoms (it’s been a while). You peel back the curtains a little and are shocked to find the snow still going strong. At least two foot covers sparkles on the floor as the blizzard continues.

You scramble back under the covers when you hear footsteps approaching. He flings back the duvet making you squeal as he straddles you and places cold hands under your shirt.

“What did I say about cold hand!” you cry as he warms them on your stomach.

“You said you wouldn’t let me back in… but I’m not in, I removed the blanket completely. Although I am now seeing the floor in that plan” he drags the duvet back over your bodies.

“It’s all well and good putting the blanket back now, but I’m already cold.” You pout.

“Oh… let me help you with that.” He dips down so his body covers yours completely. He kisses you deeply, much more passionately now that he is minty fresh. He waits until you can’t breathe properly and then moves on to trailing his lips along your chin and down your throat. “Willing to get a little colder to get a lot hotter?” he asks signalling to the hem of your shirt. You bite your lip and nod. “God your hot.” He bends to kiss you once more before doing away with the unwanted fabric. His hot tongue circles one of your nipples, playing with it until its stiff. When he’s satisfied, he moves to the other side doing the same while one of his hands plays with the abandoned peak.

You moan as he bites sensitive skin. He doesn’t leave you long to revel in the pleasure. His fingers dip into your waistband a tug. You lift your hips and allow him to shimmy your pants low enough to play with your core. His left-hand pinches at your clit as his mouth returns to yours, swallowing the desperate whines that tumble form your lips as he teases two fingers at your entrance.

“Tell me how much you want me babygirl.” You arch into his hand at the pet name.

“So…o mu...ch” you pant, not able to manage more. But it’s enough for Jungkook as he pushes both fingers into you. The stretch burns so nicely as he scissors and thrusts into you. It’s difficult to focus on him as he shuffles down your bed for his mouth to join his hand.

“Look at me Y/N” his voice is low and commanding. You use everything in you to meet his eyes as his lips wrap around your clit and suck. The sensation makes you squeal. His response is to go harder. The heat in the pit of your stomach grows until you feel like you might explode. Your orgasm overtakes you, coating his fingers and chin as he continues his endeavours. You ride his fingers until you come down, gasping hard from the release.

“Can you take me?” you meet his eyes and find nothing but lust within the deep brown. You nod enthusiastically, reaching for the condom you prepared. He chuckles as he slides his own pants down. He rips the small blue packet open and slides it easily on to his hard length. You kick your pants the rest of the way down your legs while he sorts himself out, freeing up your movement. Unable to hold back any longer, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him back down to meet you. Your lips lock together, tongues exploring one another, you can still taste yourself on him. It takes you by surprise when he enters you.

You let a low whine as he gets thicker the further in he pushes. Your nails claw into his back at the small “fuck” that leaves his mouth when he’s all the way in. You wriggle your hips under him, desperate for friction and he groans.

“You keep doing that and this isn’t gonna last long.” He bites down hard on his lip and tries to focus on controlling his thrusts. Each smack of skin is accompanied by a grunt, the speed dizzying as you feel your high approaching for a second time.

“Jungkoo..” you whine as you clench around him, just to be left empty as he pulls out of you. You pout at the loss, sad as your high disappears.

“Turn over baby girl.” He helps you flip and presses back into you with little warning. The new angle feels amazing. Never having felt so full. He pulls almost all the way out of you before pushing hard all the back in, hitting every nerve you have on the way. He supports your quivering form with his strong arms. You’re not sure when he abandoned his shirt, but you are pulled back against his sweaty chest. Your high builds back up so fast you nearly get whiplash. This one even more intense than the last. He drops your spent body back on to the mattress and grabs onto your bum for purchase as he goes harder than ever chasing his own high.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, buried deep inside of you. It takes him a moment to recover, resting his hands on your back before pulling out and tying the end of the condom.

“I almost don’t want the heating to get fixed if this is going to stay an option.” He says collapsing next to you and recovering you both with the blankets.

“I’m sure we could do this again even if the heating comes back on you know…”

Masterlist

[bettercallsabs]

After Dark

Here we go again with some new trash. Yes! Let's spiral down quick into some chaos.

Steve Rogers x Plus sized Reader

Steve POV

Warnings: Violence, guns, adults language, crime.

Word Count: 1.3k

Taglist is open, so never miss a post!

My name is Steve Roger's. I am the heir to my father's legacy. The AAM- Assassin's All Mighty- is the biggest and baddest Motorcycle club in the midwest. We are ruthless. I am ruthless. My father's club, After Dark,  is his biggest front for conducting our work. His legacy will soon be my legacy. I will go to any lengths to protect it. I play death...

.....

That new girl. There's something about her that's beyond alluring. She's nothing like the other girls who work at the club. She's short and thicc, where all the other girls all taller and on the thinner side. 

But she's unbelievably breathtaking and I can't keep my eyes off of her.

Fuck. 

When she walks away my eyes are instantly drawn to the perfect ass. So full and supple. I can't help but lick my lips. I bet she tastes like heaven.

Bucky " Damn if I could smack that ass…"

I swear to God if Bucky keeps talking my fist will connect with his loud ass mouth.

"For the last fucking time, Bucky, shut your God damn mouth before I shut it for you. "

He is quiet, much to my relief. I don't know what my deal is, but I don't like him looking at her... at all.

My hands ball into fists at the sight of such scùm. I can't believe my father wants to do business with this low life drug dealer piece of shit.The sound of the clubs pounding beats echo around us.The club is filled with bodies as I scan the room for threats. I see three men with White Fang jackets feathering through the sea of people. I nod to Kane and Tommy, who move onto.the dance floor.

"why so tense Stevey boy?" Ulrich says as he smirks in my direction. I clench my fists tighter, a slight pain running through my palm as my fingernails dig deep. 

"Watch your tone Ulrich, remember who the fuck you're talking to. Now why are you here wasting my time?"

"Straight to business eh? Well I am in need of your families… expertise."

"Which one?"

"Guns of course. "

"Ha." The laugh that slips past my lips is anything but humorous. Of course this scum is here for guns. 

I shift in my seat, folding my arms over my chest. " what could you possibly have to offer Ulrich? You know we don't deal with low levels. Fuck your drugs."

"Hey now, don't hate the game. I only deal in designer drugs. I'm the king of the party. My drugs, keep your club popping."

"Like hell it does." Bucky chimes in, jumping quickly to his feet ready to throw arms. 

I gesture to him to stand down, and he takes his seat once again, his chest still puffed out like a filed up dog. 

"I'm still not hearing anything of interest…"

 

He leans in over the table, his tone low as he speaks. " I have some information on Bassu."

The hairs on the back of my neck spring to acting at the sheer mention of that bastards name. 

He's definitely caught my interest. Not wanting to seem to eager, I lean back into my seat. 

"If it's useful enough,  you may have a deal."

Ulrich slaps a Manila envelope onto the glass table top, sliding it in my direction. I waste no time unveiling the contents of the folder on the table. A handful of photos cascade out, photos of Bassu and his men at the docks. 

"When?"

"These photos are from yesterday morning."

Gazing down at the photos, I ran my finger along the length of my jaw… this was a trail, one I desperately wanted… and here it was before. As much as the thought of dealing with the trash, Ulrich had proven himself somewhat useful. 

"Fine. Let's talk orders…"

Ulrich's mouth curves into a faint smile, one of success. 

"What are you drinking boys? King Louis, Killian, rum?"

Charlie, hovers over the table.. 

"a round of Killian for the table. Ice."

"You got it babes."  She spins on her heels, strutting off toward the bar. I return my attention to the matter at hand, cutting a deal with Ulrich. 

It seems like the deal is cut in no time, Ulrich looks appeased, getting his much needed supply. Terry, was not going to be thrilled about this…

" Drinks up gentlemen."

 I lift my gaze from the paperwork before me, as a drink is set in front of me.. Y/N has to stretch over the table to get everyone their drinks,  her short stature, is no match for the monstrous booth… 

 It is quite the view…  I can feel my pants starting to grow tight at the sight of her full figure.

 Fuck.

I catch the ogling eyes of Ulrich's goons staring hard at Y/N, his hands hover over her waist for far too long. 

"Ulrich, you better watch your fucking goons before I gouge out his eyes and shove them down his throat after I make him watch his hand being severed from his wrist." 

Ulrich's lips peirce as he glares at his henchman. 

"Boss." Kane appears beside Bucky, his breathing staggered as he forces out the words. "We've have a problem." 

" what the hell?"

"Fangs, there's at least 9 of them, and they're strapped." 

I scruff, they wouldn't be dumb enough to hit on our turf. 

The echo of gunshots breaks the through the boasting club music. The sound of shattering glass fills my ears, as I reach for the HK45 tucked at my side. Bucky and I leap from the table, eyes peered for the direction of fire, but it's scattered. 

FUCK. 

"Charlie!" 

I hear the splintering screams of Y/N's voice, as she's tugging at Charlie's arm, who is frozen in place, shear terror washed across her face. 

"Kane! Get them out of here!" I bark orders, pushing him in the girl's direction, directing my focus to Ulrich. This son of a bitch set us up…

"Ulrich you mangy piece of shit!"

He throws his hands up. "It wasn't me Stevel, I swear. I wouldn't!" 

I don't care. My fist connects with his face, sending a feel of power rippling through my core, as I watch his body collapse to the floor. 

"If you're lying, I will slit your fucking throat."

My attention is now focus on the White Fangs, who are now collected in a pack near the entrance. 

"Causing a scene boys, in public? How reckless."

"You seem to be quite out numbered, to be speaking so freely, Mr. Rogers."

One of Bassu's men steps forward with a smug look on his face. 

"Am I? You're in my zone buddy." 

Gunshots ring out as four Fangs crumple to the ground, their bodies quickly falling motionless. 

One of my men, Tommy, emerges from around the corner, taking out one more as he makes his way towards us. 

"Interesting…" I take a step forward, my heart racing in my chest with adrenaline. "It seems there is suddenly less of you, shame they couldn't stay for dinner.' 

The man before raises his handgun leveling it between my eyes. I can't help but to let out a chuckle. Was this supposed to frighten me? It wasn't the first time I've starred down the barrel of a gun. 

More gunshots ring out, but not bullets are discharged from the gun pointed at me. The solid thud of bodies dropping sounds from beyond the piece of filth in front of me. His head whips around, his eyes skimming over his fallen men. 

I look to the direction of gunfire, as my father pockets his gun, a wide menacing grin plastered across his face. He hasn't killed in sometime, and he was enjoying it. 

My attention returned to the swine standing before me. "And then there were two… so much for being out numbered, wouldn't you say?" 

I raise my gun to his head, nestling it centered between his ungroomed brows. 

I want to pull the trigger, to watch the bitch drop…. but I need answers. He's no use to me if he's dead… 

"Where is Bassu?" 

…….

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  

@itsanerdlife  

@sea040561

@dsakita  

@princess-evans-addict  

@mariekoukie6661

@flashfanfics

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@alexakeyloveloki

@freckled-lass

[blackenedinsomnia]

The Runaway Circus

Hey, it’s me again. I’ve just finished this chapter for this Victorian/Mystical Kirimina AU. As always I've had a delight writing this I hope you all enjoy! 

Most of my inspiration came from @skeletordraws picture: http://skeletordraws.tumblr.com/post/177491877978/its-timmmeeee-its-kirimina-appreciation-day

And some inspiration from my story that I’ve been writing as well. 

________________________________________________________________

Waves crashed on the murky docks, orange lanterns illuminated the streets as the sun arose from the clouds. Kirishima laid there on his bed, the white creased sheets slung over his body. His head buried in his left pillow, saliva patches covering the other pillow. The wind howled and barrelled through the cracked and broken window, sending the thin curtains flapping frantically. His floor covered with bottles of rum and ale, whistled as wind skipped on the neck of the bottle.

A foghorn had blasted through the harbour, knocking over bottles; Kirishima leapt up out of his bed. His mind ringing and his senses rattling around like a broken toy. Falling out of his bed he slowly shuffled his way to his bathroom and clicked on the light.

Using the sink he hoisted himself onto his legs he took a thorough look at his groggy appearance. His white shirt he was wearing was drenched in grease, oil and vomit. His eyes were black rimmed and a five o’clock was ever present. “What the hell happened last night?” he whispered as the overhead light flickered on and off. “Well at least I have today off” he smiled with a hint of regret from the previous night.

With a change of clothing, he sat down on the chair; it creaking with his weight. He sat there as his clock chimed to the eighth hour of the morning, his teeth biting into the stale bread that was his breakfast with a hard crunch. He unravelled the newspaper and started to read the headlines. They ranged from a masked vigilant hanging people in the streets from the streetlamps, the latest football scores or even advertisements for a travelling circus.

His morning routine was interrupted by a knock on his apartment door. “Come in, the lock is already broken anyway” Kirishima yelled. The door slowly creaked open and a sluggish, rough looking man came walking inside. He had a black waistcoat and a white shirt on, with dark navy trousers and mucky Oxfords.

“So, you got home all right then?” TetsuTetsu exclaimed

“Of course, I did, I’ve been through worse” he chomped down on the last bit of his morning meal. “So, what brings you to my humble abode” he gestured his hands stretching out around his apartment.

“Well it’s your free day you up to anything?” he asked pulling the other chair out and slipping into it.

“You assumed I would be?” he chuckled, folding his paper up and slapping it on the table.

“Well I was thinking of going to the Circus later on?” he asked taking out a pocket knife and orange from his trouser pocket and started to peel it.

Kirishima sat there for a moment and rubbed his beard “It does seem to pique my interest, but I think I’ll need another thing….”

“They’ll have beer there!” TetsuTetsu squelched eating his orange slices.

“Okay I’m sold, when is the event taking place?” Kirishima grinned

“The Circus will be in town at seven at night and then the main event will be starting at ten.” TetsuTetsu lifted himself out of his chair. “So, you’ll have some time to kill my friend,” he said throwing Kirishima another orange out of his pocket. “I’ll meet you outside of the Circus’s entrance, don’t be late” he yelled walking toward Kirishima’s apartment door.

“See you there buddy!” he cheered back.

Time passed throughout the day, and the night was finally upon Kirishima; nine o’clock. He walked down the cobbled street in brown oxfords, almost as similar as TetsuTetsu. With that, he wore maroon tartan trousers with a white shirt accompanied with a red tie.

The centre of the street was buzzing with stores selling unique and exotic foods. Whale burger, frog legs, toffee apples, all the vendors were yelling for their time in the spotlight.

The echo’s of flutes, trumpets and drums came from the glowing orange brilliance of the Circus.

Kirishima got closer to the entrance of the venue and stood there in awe. Acrobats spun sparkling rings interchanging between their arms to their legs, to their heads to their hips. Muscular me stood on a podium flexing their muscles with pride, as flamboyant dances handed out alcohol and food to all the patrons in the venue.

“Well, well I thought I was going to be the one that was late!” TetsuTetsu yelled

“Thought I would surprise you” he laughed back, hugging his best friend.

“Now we have an hour to spare what do you want to do?” TetsuTetsu said pulling in his friend closer, moving closer into the mouth of the circus.

“How about a drink? Some food?” Kirishima asked pushing him away “Do you think we have time for both?” he smiled

“Maybe…” TetsuTetsu grinned. Half an hour had passed, and they were separated. Kirishima was lost in a crowd of colours and entertainers. His head was a little dazed from the drinks he had beforehand.

“You look lost mister, you need some help?” a female voice whispered in his ear. A scent of strawberries wafted passed him as the women spun around him, in an elegant and seductive dance. The woman had a veil covering her hair and her mouth. She was wearing dancers dress, ribbons were attached to her wrists and her waist; they seemed to move in unison with her dancing.

“Yeah I was looking for where the event is?” his eyes fixated on this woman.

“If you just keep walking straight, you’ll find the tent honey…” she stopped talking and dancing all together. “Oh, you like what you see mister?” she grabbed his tie and pulled him in closer to her “Say you don’t look too shabby yourself” Kirishima blushed almost redder than his hair. “Well you know where I will be…” she whispered

“Wait what’s your name?” he stuttered as she gently pushed him away.

“My name is the “Pink Succubus, I’ll see you at the show” she giggled blowing a pink cloud of smoke onto Kirishima’s face. He wafted away the smoke from his face, and she was gone.

“What a weird woman” he whispered under his breath walking toward the tent.

He clambered his way to the tent, people were funnelled in through the two spinning gates as workers handed out tickets. “Hey, Kirishima!” TetsuTetsu yelled, one hand in the air and the other a stein of beer; it’s head overflowing, spilling onto the ground.

“Ah, thank god…” he exhaled meeting up with his friend in the line, his cut in was met with drunken heckling and disgruntled looks. “I thought I would get lost here,” he said supporting his weight on his shoulder.

“Hey buddy you don’t look too great, booze not going down too well?” TetsuTetsu

“No TetsuTetsu, a woman with gorgeous pink skin and she smelled like strawberries and she was dressed like this dancer.” Kirishima stopped with TetsuTetsu putting his hand over his mouth.

“It’s the booze” he groaned.

They finally entered the red and white striped tent; the tension was rising as well as the excitement. Four rows of red leather chairs wrapped around the stadium. The arena’s ground was covered in sand and a red podium sat there illuminated in a spotlight, another span of light came from where the entertainers would enter the stage from. The two men sat down in their seats, trying to get comfy.

The light in the middle had dimmed and a voice boomed over the speakers attached to the support beams. “Ladies and Gentlemen, what you’re ‘bout to see will fill your mind with spectacle and wonder!” the man boomed; smoke filling the arena’s centre. “Prepare to feast your eyes on air defying acrobatics, wondrous creatures and daring devils! I welcome you!” a flash of light filled the centre blinding the audience as the smoke shot up into the air forming into a dragon-like shape.

The dragon hung from the roof of the tent, it’s talons gripping into the support beams, the wood cracking, splinters falling from it. An ear-piercing roar, its eyes and the open mouth glowed a malice red., shook the tent to its core.  The dragon released its grip and crashed down into the floor a cascading wave of wind and dissipated away.

There stood a muscular man in a red jacket, under that was a cream waistcoat and white shirt. Black trousers and a black top hat also accompanied the outfit. He had jet black hair with a rugged face with a scraggly beard. He wore a devious smile which looked like an alligator’ and a black eyepatch covered his right eye.

“To your night of Hell!” he cackled fire erupting from the entrance. Dancers ran out onto the performance grounds and started to get into position. A marching band followed soon after playing an intense tune, firing up the crowd. Kirishima was fired up, he had never felt like this for years; a burning passion was awoken.

The performance had finished a couple of minutes, it felt like a flash and bang of pure ecstasy. Trapeze artists followed next, then fire breathers and then it happened. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you have a wonderful time, I know I have” he chuckled, his grin still sharp as a knife.

“Here is a lil’ demon I found a while back that was just a paper on the streets.” Smoke started to slowly crawl its way towards the stage. “A sublime, delicious, supple young thang; that’ll leave you begging for more” a black silhouette emerged from the smoke. Kirishima’s eyes opened, and the woman waltzed out.

Her face was still covered by a black and red kabuki mask. Two horns extended from the mask and it had a devious grin; it is bearing its teeth. She wore a full black dress; red dancing shoes and red arm high gloves finished the dress. “I introduce to you, The Pink Succubus!” the ring leader yelled.

Her feet were dragging along the sand, her thighs moving side-to-side. Her body was like a well-oiled machine as she found her rhythm. She was a natural, like a bird taking flight she glided through the stage, kicking up sand with her toes; exaggerating her movements even more.

The smoke started to form into a stringy wisp-like creature and started to weave in and around her body adding to the performance. She came closer and closer to Kirishima’s side, still dumbfounded by her beauty.

Her tracks were halted by his flamboyant red hair. She paused for a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Her body now shrouded in smoke, she studied him; staring at her. She slightly removed her mask, her amber iris pierced him. Kirishima started to sweat, his gaze fixated on her visible eye.

His reaction making her chuckle, placing the mask back on her face the smoke enveloped her entirely. Smoke moved back into the middle and started to fill the room again. Kirishima frantically scanned the area for the woman, she couldn’t be seen.

The music started to pick-up and rise in intensity. Suddenly out of the smoke two big, beady, orange eyes with black slits for pupils; stared back at the crowd. A thunderous roar blew the smoke away, stood in the middle of the stage was a wondrous creature. A head of a lion, the wings of a bat and the tail of a scorpion. The pink girl sat on top of the creature stroking its mane.

“Hiya!” she yelled cracking the reigns on the creature, its wing spanned and flapped majestically; sending clouds of sand scattering everywhere around the stage. Kirishima covered his eyes as he watched the beast fly up into the air. They reached the top of the tent at their top of a loop. The girl let go of the rains and blew a kiss with both of her hands. Suddenly with a snap of her fingers, they dissipated into pink rose petals.

The crowd cheered and applauded, some even tried to grab the petals. Kirishima was still stunned, he looked at his trousers petals covered them as well as the floor. Brushing the petals off, he noticed a piece of purple card on his leg. He turned it over and read it. “Come and find me” signed off with a heart. Kirishima looked to his right and saw his friend snoozing in his chair.

“Man, even with all that noise he didn’t wake up, he must really like sleeping” Kirishima joked to himself. And with that, he got up his seat and went for the backstage area.

[nighttimelights-prompted]

All right! I've been thinking about this all night. Bonus Raffle Prompt: What would G!Sans and Mafia Sans do if their s/o told them they'd like to add a third to their bed? Who would Sans choose and what would his terms be?

(i confess that i am continually delighted at your wonderful prompts and the way your mind works.

(and what excellent timing too, as i’ve finished this just after you posted your utterly, wonderfully sinful continuation of the Red & fangs prompt i had done previously...)

(and now, a general CONTENT WARNING! I’ve placed the entirety of this post’s main content under a readmore because it is very NSFW. continue at your own acknowledgement of that~!)

G!Sans:

The glow of the end of his cigarette cast a small area of warm lighting over his bones, a soft contrast to the washed-out hues of the light shone from the moon and stars overhead. It highlighted the curve of his jaw, the cracked stripes of void-black running down his cheek and over the curve of his skull, the dark shadows that never left the lower line of his eyesockets.

It lit up the way his sharp canines flashed as his grin spread at your casual words.

His fingers drew the clove cigarette from between his teeth with a languid ease, and he eyed you leaning against the back of the car, close enough to him to have your arm brush against yours, both of you still dressed as decently as you ever were when he had a show downtown. It had gone well - of course - and you had taken a short drive up the mountain to catch a little time alone and free in the clarity of the mountain air.

“So, the kitten wants to show a little fang, hm?”

You rolled your eyes amicably, your fingers nimbly plucking the clove cigarette from his fingers. You took a drag, a guilty pleasure of yours on the social occasion, sweetened by the lingering hint of alcohol and the buzz of the evening.

“The kitten wants to try out something she’s been interested in for a long time with the bonehead she trusts most in this hell of a world,” you replied, your voice a little teasing, a little soft. Despite your easy attitude, your cheeks were flushing deeper every moment - you had been friends with G for over a year, and dating him for nearly four months now… but bringing up something so often viewed as taboo or ‘selfish’ for a woman to desire in modern society as humanity set it-?

To say you were feeling a tad vulnerable was putting it lightly.

G tucked his hands into the low-slung pockets of his dark jeans, leaning his head back a little further as he turned his gaze to the stars.

“Mmmm. Well… I think my pants would be burning hotter than Grillby’s if I tried to say I hadn’t had the same desire for a long time in my life…” He turned and caught your eye, a smirk on his face as he caught your raised brow. “Y’know, what with words like that making me a liar,” he added.

You snorted and elbowed him, trying unsuccessfully to cover up the noise you made with a chuckle. He lifted the arm closer to you, looping it around your shoulders and tugging you close. You now pressed flush against him, your head tilted to keep his gaze.

This certainly wasn’t helping your blush, but damn if it didn’t run the most enjoyable rush of anticipation through you.

He caught the flutter of your eyelids and the way you had to catch yourself to breathe a little more normally, and chuckled. One of his hands rested at your neck, cupping the smooth line of your jaw, and the other ran a slow, teasing line down your back, making you arch against him.

You held the cigarette just far enough away to not catch against your clothing, and shot him a stare meant to be knowing and unimpressed, but ended up far more filled with desire and mild impatience.

It did the trick though - his hand at your back gripped you, and his eyes lidded slightly.

“... So let’s say we do this, sweetheart. What rules would you wanna lay down?”

You couldn’t help the flutter in your heart, but you quickly gathered your wits even as the heat rose in you. “I want to try it at least once, and we can talk after that about whether we want to do it again… and I’d like it to be someone we at least slightly know, someone we trust, y’know? Outside of that I’m pretty open, so long as we talk it out,” you said. Your free hand slid up the front of his leather jacket. You always felt so at home in his arms, amongst his soft scent of cloves mixed with a bite of whiskey and a darker hint of the purest vanilla.

“That sounds good to me. So you don’t have anyone in mind?” His thumb at your jaw ran slowly along the line of your cheek, straying distractingly close to your lips.

“N-no,” you managed, eyes shifting to the inviting twist of his mouth. You willed them back up to meet his gaze once more, finding a cocky heat of his own there in his eyelights.

“... Alright, babe. I’ve got a suggestion then…” He waited for your nod, a chuckle rumbling through his chest at your slightly distracted delay. You huffed, but still grinned at his usual antics. “How about Grillby?”

Your eyes widened slightly, and a rush of curious interest ran through you. “... You think?” You asked - you were certainly interested, the bartender had a power and easy grace to his movements that were attractive even if you somehow didn’t notice the lovely build of him… not to mention that his personality and the words he chose to share had the strange charismatic ability to put you at a content and good-humored ease. You and G were both already close to him, G even more so than you, and there wasn’t a week that passed that didn’t find you two in the fire elemental’s bar chatting the night away with him.

“We trust him, he’s single... not to mention I’ve noticed the way he gets you more than a little hot and bothered on our longer nights at the bar-”

You smacked him on the chest, light enough as you laughed, sputtering over the words you couldn’t quite bring up in retort. He laughed in return, waggling his brow at you.

“Well, the same could be said of you, G,” you finally got out, teasing and accusing in your playful glare.

He shrugged, a devilish tilt to his smirk now. “Hey, never said anything denying that,” he replied. Your heart skipped a beat as the ready potential of the scenario settled more firmly now, and you had a flash of a moment where your imagination played things out too, too well… Your hands smoothing over the firm flames of Grillby’s chest as G’s hands roved your skin from where you sat in his lap, bared before them both, G grinding up against you as Grillby’s hands cupped your jaw and tilted your head up towards him as he leaned down to stake a new claim over your lips, G’s sharp canines just beginning to scrape over the tender line of your shoulder, about to bite-

“... I think he’d be a perfect choice,” you replied, your voice rough in betrayal of your wandering mind.

The look on G’s face told you he didn’t mind the sound one bit.

He pulled your face up towards his just a little further, his gaze holding yours with a confidence and assurance that had your hand slipping over the vertebrae of his neck to pull him down to you to capture him in the kiss you wanted - needed-

But he stopped just shy of your lips, an unyielding power in his body that did nothing to balm the burning desire in you now. His eyelights shone brightly as he drank in the needy sight of you, even as he spoke once more.

“I’ve only got the one condition to add, sweetheart. The first one taking you, stretching you, filling you, dragging that first overwhelming climax outta you…?”

“It had better be you, you beautiful, smug bastard.”

At that you dragged one another into a heated kiss, his smirk making it all the easier for him to nip at your lip, your breathless gasp creating the small opportunity he needed to slip his tongue against yours. His hand at your back dragged upwards, pulling your shirt with it, his fingertips scraping tauntingly against your skin.

You dropped the remains of the cigarette in your hand and stomped it out, pulling back from him for just a moment. With the element of surprise on your side, you made quick work of your shirt - that is, you swiftly lifted it over your head and dropped it on the ground beside you, taking wicked delight in the way G’s smirk dropped as his golden magic flared over his cheekbones, his eyelights barely tearing away from you to glance to either side - the parking lot overlooking the view of the city was empty, to his clear relief. Your hand slipped to his jaw and with a languid draw of your fingertips you tilted his face back to you.

Your eyes lidded, you tilted your head slightly and grinned at him.

“How about a preview, G?”

Mafia Sans:

There’s a wicked twinkle to his eyes after just a moment of quiet shock, and it doesn’t even take his wandering touch to run a thrill up your spine.

You’re actually straddling his lap when you broach the subject - you’ve been in a relationship with him for several months now, and your intimate experiences have already been anything but vanilla. Even now, you’re divested of your shirt and pants, wearing only a lacy black set of underwear that he had picked up for you after your last run-in with your rivals had completely ruined your clothes and favorite undergarments. He wore only his pants, and even that much you were quite interest in ridding him of… and he knew it.

His fingers, frozen for but a moment at your words, picked up their languid motions trailing intricate patterns along your hips as his grin grew and his eyesockets lidded a little further.

“so ya’d like to add a little extra kick to things, mmm…?”

His hands gripped your hips, the faint buzz of magic through his bones causing you to inhale a little sharply, a deeper blush rising on your cheeks as you eyed him with anticipation.

“I want someone to see the way you drive me insane,” you replied, your voice low and sweet as you leaned forward, one hand supporting you on the wide back of the plush chair behind him, the other lifting to skate over his collarbone. “I want the pleasure of being filled in more ways than one, I want to scream your name as our third assists us in testing our own boundaries and heating our every touch even further…”

You bent forward further, murmuring the last of your words along the line of his jaw. You felt a shudder run through his bones, and smirked as you pressed slow, heated kisses along his jaw and down to his neck.

You slowly rolled your hips, grinding down onto his hard length below you. The breathy groan you pulled out of him drew you to lift yourself, your hair a beautifully wild frame to the flushed and utterly sinful look on your face. He returned your gaze with an immeasurably deep adoration behind the growing edge of outright hunger in his expression.

“... do you have anyone in mind, then, doll?” He asked. His voice dipped lower, a promise behind his words that had you realizing that you were certainly not the only one who had considered this.

You shook your head, at a wonderful loss for words once again as he rolled his hips against you, once, twice, thrice…

He chuckled. With deft, broad hands, he pulled you closer to him, one hand tangling in the hair framing the back of your neck. “my choice, then? heh, i accept. well then, sweetheart… what say you to seeing what the boss has to offer?”

“Gaster?” you whispered in reply, your eyes caught in the soft light of his eyelights.

“well, if that’s too much…”

You laughed once, breathless, your hand dragging down his ribs with a sweet pressure that had his eyelights flickering in distraction. “Too much? No, not in the least, Sans… I think I’m looking forward to seeing what he can bring behind that dangerously mysterious figure he imposes.”

Sans’ grin turned sharper then, a wicked pleasure in your agreement there as his eyelights dipped to your lips. “just a few terms then, no?”

You nodded. “For me… this is just a sexual third. You know well by now, but my soul… well, that’s already happily and deeply accounted for.”

His grin softened for a moment then as he met your gaze then. His hand shifted, allowing his thumb to gently stroke your cheek for a moment of quiet. Your smile spoke more than any further words could.

Knowing the import of the terms, though, you spoke again. “And for you? I’m quite curious about how well you’ll take seeing another bring me pleasure…” You teased, throwing him a salacious wink.

His laugh ought to have been outlawed for the dark things it did to you then… well, not that it would matter in the world you chose to live in. But still.

“dulzura... seeing you utterly wrecked in pleasure is one of the deepest gratifications i take a part in,” he growled, his grin growing once more, his gaze capturing you. “outside of that… well. i trust you - and i trust that telling spark to your soul…” his gaze dipped down to your chest, and you felt the telling brush of his magic against it. “let’s say this, then… the one who will hold you at the end of the night? the one whose name you’ll be screaming as you come yet again, unable to even think another coherent word? the one who will be fucking you deep, raw, filling you as you try to beg for more, more, h a r d e r . . . ?”

Sans’ hand tugged you painfully pleasurably closer yet, now flush and prone against his chest as his teeth nearly brushed against your ear.

“that’ll be me.”

[bloodandrosesarenofun]

Landrymat - The Reincarnation Series

(After a long time out of commission I am back to writing! I thought I'd share the excerpt of the first chapter of my novel, inspired by the last two pictures I posted. Let me know your thoughts. <3

Tag list:

@luna-evans-writes )

I feel the night air push at my hair and flannel as both stir up at it's touch. The clock on my cellphone says it's only four-thirty but the sun is already on it's way down for the night, early as every winter. It's taken a while for me to actually feel the winter. Strangely enough it's actually just starting to get warm in Jacksonville again but at the same time all of the typical winter shit is just starting to happen. People ringing bells for charity and lighting up random palm trees in an attempt to be festive, and complaining about seeing people's breathe as though breathing doesn't really happen till it's cold out.

The bus thankfully drops me off only maybe a two or three minute walk from my destination so I don't have to deal with it that much. The being outside. I hate this neighborhood, sort of. It's not like it's particularly bad, and I know I grew up better than my mum did, but it is still pretty ghetto and run down. The laundromat is not so cleverly named 'Landrymat' but the word looks cooler to me on the marquee so I chuckle at it, glowing like an old school neon sign in some Tumblr kid's bedroom. I feel my face warm up as I go up to the door, pausing as anxiety creeps it's way up the back of my neck. I doubt anyone'll know what they are, or even care what I'm washing, but I still feel that despite the logical side of my brain arguing against it.

'CLEANERS AND DRY CLEAN

WASHING MACHINES ONLY 50 CENTS PER LOAD

COME IN AND ASK ABOUT OUR SPECIALS'

I question what kind of specials a laundromat could possibly have but I suppose they mean deals on multiple loads? I glance at my backpack's strap and realize I'm not sure if I need to wash anything separate. The idea of asking up at the desk makes my heart go number than all the years of abuse so I decide to just go in and figure it out myself. "I'm only carrying somewhere over a hundred dollars worth of material in my bag, what's ruining a couple of them," I mutter. 

Walking into the laundromat the first thing I see are all the washers and dryers so it takes me a secound to find the desk. 

I hold my tongue about how stupid I think it is that it's in the back of the room (which it is about the size of a large master bedroom) as I walk up to the counter, I'd never been to a laundromat before and my anxious ass wants to eliminate as much risk of my looking stupid as I possibly can. "Hey," I try and lower my voice, standing straighter than I usually do. It's an effort given I've spent years training my voice to be high when I wanted something from people since mine was too low to be as quickly helped as the prissy tea kettle sounding girls, of course the years of manipulation would bite me eventually. I always hated that voice. "I need to wash, um, two loads of laundry."

"Do you need a dry clean?" Asks the burly desk lady, her hair braided back in a frizzy mess that said she probably didn't care much about work appearances and her tone suggesting she didn't really care about work. I shake my head 'no'. "Then pick a machine and just let me know if you need change." 

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." I walk over to the wall that obviously has machines with wet clothes and soap tumbling in them and want to scream at the lack of signs. I survey the room, finding that there aren't really many people in here, thankfully. One woman sits on her phone in a waiting chair, charging it in the wall and speaking about as loudly about her divorce as it takes to let the whole entire room know her life story. A man strikes out with a red head a couple machines down from me, and an Asian lady who might be the manager talks with one of the employees apparently about the detergents. I pick a machine near the end and set my backpack down on a miscellaneous chair at the last machine. All of my binders are bundled up and shoved unceremoniously in the bag. I grab my wallet out and go to figuring out starting up the machine before I take them out, zipping back the backpack. 

Living in a house where either your grandma or your father do all of your laundry (mostly because they insist) is feeling much less convenient as the feeling of intimidation from trying to figure out a new basic skill sets in. I stare blankly at the space beside the laundry machine, feeling fog set in, when the beep of the woman on the phone's laundry being done sets me off I jump, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. I don't know why I feel this way, and I can't find a rational way to deal with it. I try to do the breathing and focus thing but with nothing to focus on I panic, I dig my nails into the skin just under my wrist, grabbing my hoodie to try and hide it underneath as I claw at myself. It helps me. I feel dizzy but after a moment I'm back on the ground, almost like getting off something unstable for the first time in a while. My mind felt like it was still thinly veiled but I find myself able to lean against the washers. Shaking my head, I nod at my reflection, fixing my t shirt and going to figuring out the laundry. When I get it together, tossing everything from my backpack and quickly shutting it seems more discreet and I contemplate only doing one load just for the convenience of it, but I decide against it thinking about my lack of a job and money to replace for that. The machine turns on with a loud sound and I shut my eyes against it. Feeling physically sick I hastily take out my headphones again from where I've shoved them into my backpack's pocket and begin playing a song from Quietdrive, thinking the guitar and easily placed sexual lyrics will help me take my mind off my mental breakdown. The seats in the 'Landrymat' are cheap but they aren't as uncomfortable as I thought. I sit with my legs up weirdly crooked in the seat, looking around to see if anybody will care about it. The red haired girl from earlier is looking my way but her expression doesn't look irritated so I ignore it. The air is clean smelling, and the chemicals burn my nose, but it's all something to focus on as I zone out, inconsequentially digging my nails into my skin again, my hoodie wrapped inconsequentially around my hands like I was trying to bide off the cold. I feel alittle less stranded with the music blasting. It drowns out the other sounds. It takes a little while for my darks to be done, and I find myself way too intrigued by the fact you could never tell what the mass of black fabric is. It looks so inconsequential when it feels like if anybody saw it, knowing what it was, it would ruin my life.

I remove the clothes and set them in the dryer, taking a secound to pick the right cycles and having to google it to be sure, then put my lighter binders in for the same cycle. Feeling eyes on me, I turn and glance around the laundromat. The manager is nowhere to be seen and the employee is sweeping, the woman on her phone is talking to the man from earlier, and the red headed girl is staring at me. I turn to glance at the counter, and turn back to find her still watching. 

I check my chest, making sure my shirt is on right and you can't see my binder through it or peeking over the top. I haven't said much since I got here and since I know my voice is the least passing thing about me I find it difficult to pinpoint what could be wrong with me. Is she really clocking me? Or trying to figure it out maybe? The girl doesn't seem deterred by the fact I've noticed her staring at me and I can't tell if I find that more unsettling. I get a strange vibe off her, almost like I've met her before, maybe a few times. My head tilts to the side as I study her. She has tan skin, and I can tell she doesn't use as much lightener as most Asian girls. Her face and eyes remind me of a wolf (and I'm not sure if that's crazy to say but) despite her not coming off as intimidating at all to me. Something about her's intriguing, and I find myself wanting to talk to her. She's dressed in all guys clothing, stuff you could probably find after a few minutes of digging through the small grungy punk section of Walmart or the closet of you dad's old teenage bedroom, but she wears it like a model on one of the magazines on the table. Her makeup is carefully done and her eyes are piercing as the stare into mine. "D-Do you need something?" I question, being conscious about my voice as I hear it waiver with nerves. I figure either she'll let me know where I know her from or maybe my saying something first will keep her from outing me, even if there aren't that many people in here. I don't think my heart can currently take being called out as trans* or gay.

Her eyes cut from mine to something behind my head and I turn around with an eyebrow raised in question. In the top right corner to the room is a little TV monitor playing the news on mute. Headlines role over the screen as they talk about the state of the world. I knew things have been bad, but the newscast for the day just seems to be 'The world is fucked pretty well' and I'm shocked at how little I've heard people talk about change despite even the holiday season's passing by. I turn back to find the girl grimacing at the screen. She looks down at me then shakes her head, "No. Nothing at all."

I make a face, closing the washing machine I hit start. She doesn't stare directly but I still catch her looking. "The world's pretty shit for just past the holidays isn't it?" Mentally, I kick myself for talking. If she chose to leave alone why wouldn't I let her? 

She looks at me and nods slowly. "Yeah," she says, "Yeah it is. I don't think anyone gives a fuck." Her worlds hold a specific malice and she grits her teeth, looking back at the screen like she's thinking of someone specific. "Did you really think they would? Are you really into rights or something?" I realize that's a stupid question. "I mean, um, like activist work? Specifically."

She shrugs. "Yeah, no, but I guess you could say I work closely with someone-" she stops herself, "who has a pretty good hand in this business."

"You work for weather station?" I ask.

She smiles, shakes her head. "No. Don't worry about it, I'm probably just over reacting as always. Thinking people have more power than they have. Nobody was gonna pay attention to this," she gestures to the screen and crosses her arms, "anyway."

"Well maybe it'll blow over with at least as little damage to people as it can manage."

"Yeah, I doubt it." She goes up to a machine and pulls out her dry clothes, beginning to fold them for a wicker basket.

I look down at my phone, my mum's texted me and I groan inwardly as I text to let her know I'm okay. "What about you?" I hear the girl ask. 

My eyebrows furrow. "What about me?"

"What do you care about?" She asks. 

It's a strange question. What do I care about? "I guess the environment."

"You guess?" she pauses.

"I mean, yeah."

"That's not a lot of caring." She continues to fold her things into her basket without looking at me, reminding me of an old movie scene. "There's no passion in you guessing."

"I guess-" I stop, then shrug. "I don't care much about a lot of things right now." I admit. Something about the girl's demeanor changes, and I try but I can't read her expression. She seems weirdly different then and I try and find a time when I may've seen her like this. "That's a sad way to live. But I guess I get it."

I shrug awkwardly, shifting my weight on one foot. "I just can't find that passion I suppose."

"You know supposing is just guessing with a different style?"

"I'm surprised someone else does."

"Well. My advice. Find something worth fighting for. Fast." The jokingness fades from her eyes and she suddenly looks very serious, her tone almost a warning.

"Okay." I say. "I'll work on it."

"Good." She smiles, grabbing her basket and heading for the door. "I suppose I'm just not gonna get a name after that." I turn back to my wash and see there's still five minutes to wait for the dryer.

"It's Rosé." I hear a girl say. Turning around, I see the red head walking away without getting an answer from me. "Scorpious," I doubt she heard me. 

When I'm done with my laundry I'm happy to fold my binders back into my backpack without incident. The laundromat is only a short walk and an even shorter bus ride from my house, but considering the fact that the next bus is an hour away I take my phone out and do the next best thing.

"Hey, George. You wanna get pizza with me? I'll pay if you drive."

[dreaming-as-we-run]

Dates ; Part One

J-Hope x Reader

Genre: Fluff / Angst 

Series: Dates

Author: Ki

Word count: 2,831

A/N: So, I originally started this one-shot in March of 2016. Yet, as time passed I struggled to figure out a correct plot line until March of 2017. I was going to post it all in one part but considering the first half I have written so long,in fact it is the longest thing I've written in awhile. I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next and final part, which will be out soon.

March 10th - 3 Years Ago

“Miss y/n, please pick any seat you wish.” Your new advisory teacher instructed from her desk, where she shuffled papers of various colors. Skimming the classroom, you spotted an empty seat near the back and quickly rushed over to it, avoiding the stares of your new classmates. You slowly slid down into the seat, attempting to become comfortable in the rock hard chair.

It was your first day attending this school after your recent move, and you weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea. Switching schools one year away from graduating wasn’t quite the ideal situation for you, no matter how much your parents tried to convince you otherwise.

“Hey,” Someone’s voice rang besides you, accompanied by a poke to the arm. You turned your head to see a young male smiling at you. “do you have a pencil I can borrow?” He asked, his eyes lingering over to the clock at the front of the room. There was still a few minutes before the first class officially started. You nodded and leaned down to the bag you had placed on the floor, unzipping the compartment where you had placed your pens and pencils.

After finding a sharpened one, you zipped the bag back up and handed it to the male. He graciously took the writing utensil and placed it on his desk, but turned to face you once again.

“Thanks. Are you new? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Yeah, today’s my first day.” You replied quite timidly.

“Oh, cool. What’s your next class?” He suddenly asked, causing you to take out your schedule and handing it to him. The young male seemed to look it over for a few minutes before handing it back to you. “My next class is next to yours, want me to walk you there when this period is over?” You felt a piece of your shell chip off, thanks to his radiating smile.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it like...taboo to be seen with the new kid or something?” The boy only seemed to laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“I think I’ll take my chances with that one.”

May 3rd - 3 Years Ago

“Hoseok, will you please hurry up?” You called, stopping abruptly before spinning on your heel to see him trying to type on his phone and walk at the same time.

“Y/n, I’m not as young as you. You have that youthful energy and speed.” Your eyes instantly rolled at his comment.

“You’re barely a year older than me and get that phone out of your face before you fall!” The male only held a finger out, trying to communicate that he needed one more minute.

“Let me just finish this level.” A low groan of frustration escaped your lips as you turned around and kept walking. Hoseok must have noticed, because he quickly stuffed the phone into his back pocket and jogged up to your side. There was a short pause before he spoke up once again.

“So, I was thinking...do you want to hang out this weekend?” The two of you had only known each other for a few months, but you already considered Hoseok a close friend. Ever since he had offered to help you out around school, the two of you had been inseparable. Shortly after meeting him, you realized that you both lived in the same neighborhood and he turned into your walking partner for both going to school and returning home. This only made you bond more with the older male, allowing you to open up more and be your true self around him. Despite all of this, you still have not done anything together besides school related things.

“Hm, let me think.” You hummed, delaying your answer in order to provide payback for his annoyingness earlier.

“It’s not like you’ll be doing anything this weekend, anyway.”

“Just for that, nope. Sorry, I can’t.”

“I was kidding, y/n.” He pouted.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, we can hang out this weekend.”

July 21st - 3 Years Ago

You lowered your pencil onto the paper in front of you, jotting down some notes. You were just about to flip to the next page of the textbook when your phone suddenly went off, playing your favorite song. You quickly picked up the ringing phone, not bothering to check the caller ID before pressing it to your ear.

“Hey, know what we should do tonight? Go out. Be ready in ten minutes.” Hoseok’s voice hummed.

“Sorry to burst you bubble, but I probably shouldn’t.” You awaited his response for a few seconds, yet received none. “Hoseok?” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you lowered the phone down and checked the screen, only to find Hoseok already ended the call. You immediately threw your head back and let a sigh escape your lips.

  You stood up from your bed, walking over to your closet and picking out an outfit to wear for this surprise outing. Normally, you would at least try to convince Hoseok to let you stay home and work, but him not letting you even speak inclined that the boy was determined and would bring you out of your apartment one way or another, even if that meant physically picking you up to do so.

A few minutes passed by after you got dressed when the doorbell of your apartment rung. Usually, by the time you could even get down the hall, your mother would allow Hoseok inside and you would find him lounging on your couch when you entered the family room but today, your parents were not home and thus, leaving you to answer the door. You slipped on your favorite pair of sneakers before jogging over to the entrance way, opening to door to reveal Hoseok standing there with his hands jammed into his pockets.

“Ready?” He asked, a smile slipping onto his face. You nodded and stepped out of the doorway, making sure it was locked before the two of you headed towards the stairs of the apartment building.

“My plans for today were to study until I drop, but I guess this works too.”

“Studying? Isn’t it, oh I don’t know...break?” You rolled your eyes at Hoseok’s comment as the two of you began walking down the steps.

“My parents enlisted me into a cram school.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” There was a pause for a few moments, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of Hoseok’s feet, along with yours, squeaking the wooden steps underneath of you.

“How long have you been studying before I called?” You took a second to think before answering.

“About three to four hours.”

“Well, it’s good that I bugged you. Now, you get to get your blood flowing after sitting down for so long.”

“Riiight.” You laughed, making it to the base of the steps and pushing open the heavy door, exiting into the outside world.

Three hours later, Hoseok and you stumbled upon a small clothing shop. The faint smell of vanilla drifted through the air and the sound of a bell could be heard as you pushed open the door.

    “Oh, cool. Bomber jackets!” Hoseok mused, making his way to the rack which contained jackets in a large array of colors.

     As Hoseok gawked over an army green embroidered bomber jacket with entertaining dragons, you moved towards the back of the shop.

One thing that happened to catch your eye was a (favorite color) hat with a pattern that suited your style. You walked over and casually picked up the hat, flipping it over and checking the tag. If you would have brought money with you, you would be able to afford the hat easily.

“What are you looking at?” The sound of Hoseok’s voice made you jump slightly, but the older male only laughed at your reaction.

“Just this hat.” You replied after calming yourself down. He took the hat from your hands and seemed to study it momentarily. Wordlessly, he took the hat and set it onto your head.

“It looks cute on you.” Your body instantly turned to him, wondering why he would say that. It was rare in your relationship to compliment each other. Hoseok either didn’t see the expression on your face or chose to simply ignore it, since he continued on with conversation. “Are you going to buy it?” You reached up and pulled the object off your head, rubbing circles into the soft bill of the snapback.

“I would, but I didn’t break money with me.”

“Well, looks like I’m buying it for you.” He chuckled, snatching the hat from your hand and holding it with the bomber jacket he planned to get. By the time you had processed his words, he was already halfway towards the counter. You rushed up next to him, the top of your ears starting to conduct heat.

“Oppa, you don’t have to do that for me.” You words came out flustered and jumbled, but Hoseok managed to understand what you had said.

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before a chuckle escaped his lips. “Did you just call me oppa?” After he said this, the heat on your ears only spreaded to the rest of your face. You didn’t have time to deny it, because this is when the two of you reached the front desk.

“How can I help you?” The elderly lady behind the cash register smiled sweetly after you did the proper greetings. Hoseok smiled back and placed the two items on the desk.

“I would like to buy this jacket and hat, please.” The woman, whose nametag read Park Nami, nodded and began to ring up the items. While she was doing this, her dark brown eyes caught your (eye color) ones and managed to catch your blushing face.

“Ah, is this a present for you girlfriend?” She asked, her attention flickering to Hoseok. You wanted to protest against the concept, but Hoseok nodded before you could.

“Oh, how much I enjoy young love.” Park Nani chuckled, bagging up the two items before telling Hoseok the price. Hoseok paid the correct amount of money and said his goodbyes to the elderly lady, slipping the hand that wasn’t holding the bag into your hand and leading you out of the store. His hand was larger than yours and fit comfortable in your own.

Once the chilly Gwangju air hit your skin, Hoseok let go of your hand. Your stomach lurched at this action, the ghost of his touch still lingering.

“What was that about?” You asked, trying to stabilize your voice so he couldn’t tell how much those small actions affected you.

“I thought it would be easier to act like we were dating than explaining to the woman we weren’t dating. You know if we said we weren’t dating, we would be there for forever trying to explain why we weren’t dating.” Hoseok hummed.

“I am so done with you, Jung Hoseok.” You sighed, trying to fight the sudden pang of pain that coursed through your chest. When Hoseok’s hand took ahold of yours in the shop, you could practically feel the sparks ignite under your skin. Half of you were relieved this one of Hoseok’s stupid little schemes, but the other half wished his hand grazed yours with the soul intention of never letting go.

“Wha? Is this how you’re going to treat your boyfriend?” He placed a hand over his heart and pouted in your direction.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” But I wish you were.

“Did we just break up?” He dramatically gasped.

“We can’t break up if we were never together, pabo.”

September 18th - 3 Years Ago  

After the incident in the small shop, your stomach filled with butterflies whenever you saw Hoseok. Which, was basically every day. You found yourself taking in more of his features when he talked to you and every time he smiled, you felt like your heart had exploded. Today was no different.

It was calm Saturday evening and you had met Hoseok in one of your favorite ice cream parlors. For the first time in weeks, you weren’t paying attention to a single thing Hoseok was saying and were lost in your thoughts.

“Hello? Earth to y/n.” You jumped when he waved his hand frantically in front of your face.

“Hm?” You snapped out of your trance like state and looked at him in a sheepish manner.

“Are you okay?” He asked, worry etched into his features. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you pondered whether or not to finally confront him about your feelings. It was eating you alive and you honestly could not take it for much longer. You had to get this off of your chest.

“Can we talk about something?” The playful glint that usually rested in his eye disappeared and he folded his hands together.

“What’s up?” Well, too late to back out now.

“Remember a few months ago when you brought me away from my studies to walk around town?” You picked up the spoon residing in your ice cream bowl and swished around the (favorite flavour) ice cream that it contained.

“Yeah, we ended up going to that small shop near the museum.” Hoseok recalled, causing multiple images of that night to reply in your mind.

“You took my hand and escorted me out of the store after convincing the lady that we were a couple. Something kind of sparked in me that day, and I honestly haven’t been able to look at you the same way. I need to say this before anything else happens.” You dropped your eyes to the table, not being able to look Hoseok in the eye. “I really like you, Hoseok.” A moment of silence crossed between the two of you before you heard Hoseok’s voice.

      “Y/n-ah, look at me.” You hesitantly raised your head to see him with a small smile on his face. “I really like you too.” You sat there, confusion evident on your face. “I was going to ask you out that night but panicked and made up that stupid lie about how the lady would question us. After that, I just put on a goofy smile and prayed you didn't notice what I was doing.” You sat there for a few seconds, mouth agape and attempting to piece together the information he was giving you. Eventually, a smile crossed your features.

“I’m just going to quit while I’m ahead.”

“Good idea.”

April 14th - 2 Years Ago

Things had been going pretty well in your relationship with Jung Hoseok. While you were continuing your studies and preparing for college, Hoseok had decided to pursue a career in dancing and rapping. He had done the two things previously as a hobby, but he decided to take it to the next step.

    Currently, the two of you were in Hoseok’s makeshift dance studio, his elder sister's old room, as he practiced for his BigHit Entertainment audition. While he danced, you formed a crescent of books before you to study.

    You were two pages of vocabulary notes into your anatomy studies when you heard Hoseok frustratedly groan and pause the music. You looked up to see him raking his hands through his hair, walking in small circles.

     “I think we should booth take a break.” You announced, clearing enough room for your boyfriend to join you on the floor. Hoseok seemed to ponder the proposition for a moment before plopping onto the ground, placing his head into your lap and laying down.

      “Nothing i'm doing seems right. I'm so not going to get in.” The young boy heavily sighed. You rubbed your thumb gently over his forehead before playing with his hair.

       “If you keep thinking like that you won't. Babe, listen to me, you are the best dancer I know. You're going to get accepted.”

       “Well, what if I don't.” Your (eye color) eyes met his brown one, lingering for a second and found a hint of sadness resided there.

     “Then BigHit made a big mistake.” You responded, a smile coming onto your face. Hoseok looked up at you, staring for a few seconds before nodding with determination. You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, giving him a soft peck. After leaning back up, his attention turned to one of the many textbooks scattered across the floor.

    “How can you even understand this stuff?” His eyebrows scrunched upon reading the many terms listed on the page. You chuckled, gesturing to the notebook sitting next to the resource material.

“Notes. Lots and lots of personal notes.”

    “Nerd.” A smile slipped onto his face once he said this, looking at you with something that only could be described as pure love.

 “I take offense to that, y’know.” You chuckled.

“But you’re my nerd.” Hoseok quickly added, wrapping his arms around you in a hug and kissing the top of your head.

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Hi I hate to ask this but I've had the worst day of my life, a sprained ankle and then a car accident. It's been horribly rough. Could I get a small one shot Lucas fic of taking a liking to and comforting a found captive?

Don’t apologize for asking, Anon. That sounds like a terrible day. I hope you recover mentally, physically and financially very soon. Car accidents are terrible and a sprained ankle is rough. I hope this fic helps ease some of the crappy feels that today has given you. Much love for you on your road to recovery.

It started off with Lucas getting bored enough to watch all the VHS tapes he could salvage - ending up with a bundle of his Ma’s collection and nothing else to do. So, he sat around with his thumb up his ass and suffered through Beaches, Titanic and… some stupid Wayne Newton thing while eating bags of cheese puffs and peanuts.

By the end of Steel Magnolias, he felt like someone had ripped his balls off and sewn a pussy on him. All he could think about was cuddling and fawning over a girl of his own, and it made him nearly sick.

He sat around for another two days thinking about what it’d be like to have a girlfriend and jus’…hold hands. Hold hands?! Like he was some fuckin’ prepubescent brat. He wanted to fuck and cum balls deep in some hot cunt, not sit around and hold hands all day. But he did, and so he sat around with a blank TV and a heartache, not knowing what to do with himself.

On the third day of his self-inflicted misery, the ol’ man came in with two bodies.

“Morgue’s overrun, boy. I’m sticking these down in the stalls. They ain’t been fed yet so don’t you touch ‘em, ya here?!”

“Whatever,” he replied, not thinking twice about it cause on account of the goop his brain had become and got a nice crack in the back of his head with a baseball bat for his trouble.

After dear ol’ dad had taken down a charter bus full of shitheels lookin’ to spend the weekend in New Orleans for the big fuckin’ Mardi Gras parade, Lucas got stuck with two captives when the basement started overflowing with new arrivals. Two too many, he grumbled, hearing one of them start screamin’ after only two hours strapped up.

Ain’t nobody got time fer this, he thought.

He had other shit to do (he didn’t), and it wasn’t even like he could use ‘em for test subjects either so what good were they but an annoyance? They’d both been there since this morning, and it only took until now for Lucas to realize one of ‘em wasn’t screaming - hadn’t been since Daddy brought ‘em by.

Typically it wouldn’t peak his interest - the silence - but the last bitch he’d tossed in the rat’s nest had long since turned to bones, and he was bored. The tapes had made him weak at heart, and he couldn’t stand watching another one of his Ma’s sentimental tear fests.

Just the thought was making him wanna puke.

Lucas hunched over his desk, frowned and gave the little joystick a push to the right, panning camera nine over to the quiet one all tied up in one of the horse stalls.

A girl, Lucas noticed immediately. She was quiet, reserved and hadn’t moved much. Without much reason to, Lucas hadn’t gone down since they’d been brought in and secured to their posts. He hadn’t bothered to look at ‘em either since he wasn’t supposed to play with ‘em. Shoulda took a little trip down though, cause the chick looked kind of hot once he zoomed in a bit. Get rid of the blood and dirt, and she’d been the nicest lookin’ bitch to ever get past the gates.

“Ain’t it just peachy ah’ get stuck with a dumb whore in the barn…” he grumbled.  She looked like one too (not really), but guess that coulda’ been the fact that she’d been stripped down to her panties. At this angle, he couldn’t see her tits, but her back was bare, so she wasn’t wearing a bra or nothin’.

Shame - shame he didn’t have a good angle for a free viewing.

His Pa never said he couldn’t have himself a look-see. As long as he didn’t chuck her in the Birthday Room, who cared if he had a little fun? All he wanted was a look and maybe a hug or some snuggles - No! No, he just wanted to watch her heaving tits as he jerked off on the floor in front of her. He wanted to slip his dick between ‘em and… ugh…

Lucas wanted good night’s sleep with a warm body beside him, in all honesty. It got pretty lonely now that he was off the grid more or less - just enough connection established to contact his people and set up communication between all the cameras and speakers. No more porn to toss his rocks off to. No cam girls to watch while he fucked his fist, pretending it was a pussy. And now, worst of all, he’d brainwashed himself into wanting something more innocent than a good fuck. Maybe when the girl down in the barn passed out, he’d go lay next to her…

The girl down in the stall shifted, stretching a long pale leg across a bed of musty hay.

Shit! Where was his Polaroid at? Worse case scenario he’d snap a picture of her and lay in bed looking at it like a freak.

Four upturned boxes and a messy bed later, Lucas was loading up his ol’ polaroid camera with a dozen blanks, fingers shaking. He was only a bit ashamed of how low he was willing to go for some semblance of intimacy, but hell… he was desperate, and it was hard enough keeping his head clear as it was.

It was pretty pointless, but he rubbed his face clean of the blood from earlier and threw his door open. Lucas kicked his heels into the stairs, eyeing the molded that were hanging off the walls. They’re gaping jaws clicked open, swinging towards him jus’ enough to know it wasn’t some escapee running fer the hills. One of ‘em gurgled, gagged and puked up a messy wad of bones as Lucas passed it by.

Easily ignored, when his heart was busy jackhammering at the thought of this girl his Pa had brought in.

The girl was sitting in the stall, a chain wrapped around her waist, connecting her manacled wrists and branching out to the pole she was resting against. She didn’t have much wiggle room, but all in all, it wasn’t as bad as getting cramped into one o’ them dog crates.

She didn’t even bother lookin’ at him as his sneakers crunched over brittle hay, pausing outside the wooden gate. A fountain of pale hair hung down in front of her face, covering the tops of her tits.

“Hey-hey, come on, bitch! Wake up!” He snorted as she jerked but did little else. Only when he growled and gave the gate a hard kick did she swayed. A hint of perky nipple poked out of her thick hair as she lifted her head; blood-matted hair slipping out of her eyes. Blue eyes, like his own, looked up at him, gazing under wet lashes.

She was a hottie, and Lucas was struck half dumb for a good long minute jus’ looking at her.

“My leg’s broken,” she whispered. Pain made her voice throaty, ragged enough he found himself licking his lips, wondering if he should have brought her a soda or somethin’. He palmed his Polaroid, nodding to her with the tip of his chin.

“I’ll set it fer ya if ya give me a smile. I’ll even bring you upstairs and get ya somethin’ to eat. How about that? Sounds like ah sweet little deal, don’t it? Jus’ gotta say cheese!”

“It doesn’t and I won’t,” she said, leaning back against the wooden pole, exposing her bare tits through a curtain of dirty hair, uncaring.

Lucas popped himself a picture without obscuring his view with the shitty glass lens. All she did was blink at the flash and nothing more. No rebuttal, no tears or anything else he’d have expected. Hell, Lucas even had a running shower up there. How could she say no that kinda offer?

Slowly, checking the barn entrance with a narrowed look, he smashed the lock on the gate and swung it open. The noise or the implication made her stiffen over the hay bed. In her lap, she curled her fingers and closed her eyes. Dry, cracked lips, which probably looked pretty full and sexy when she wasn’t dehydrated, mouthed words… no, they mouthed numbers.

Lucas shoved his shoulder into the wooden post as he read her lips while she chanted math equations, solving for X and Y in some weird, brainy coping mechanism. Probably thought he was gonna rape her or somethin’. All the chicks that came through here thought he would…kinda got insulting after ah while.

“Ya forgot to carry the four, sweetheart…” he told her, watching as she ignored him, continuing despite her fuck up.

Kinda interesting. Usually, everyone just begged and screamed for someone to come rescue ‘em - like they were a princess in some wild fairy tale. This one accepted her fate, or at least what she thought was gonna happen, and did her best to prepare for it. Lucas liked that - respected it. And so he yanked the film from his camera, gave it a couples flaps until the badly lit sight of her with those cute tits came full color. He threw the picture at her, snorted when she kept on dividing and subtracting and left her there.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Lucas got itchy again.

All night he’d been watching her through the camera, ignoring the stupid asshat in the stall beside her as he screamed. It was hard to see through the snowy lenses, but Lucas was pretty sure she was still miming mathematics to herself. She didn’t sleep, at least not for more than half an hour maybe. Her unbroken leg would kick or stretch and once he saw her turn her head up towards the camera, staring at him.

“Come and do it already,” she’d say, making his gut churn sickly.

After his ol’ man had come in for the retard with the broken vocal chords, Lucas stuffed a bag of skittles in his pocket, grabbed a can of soda and hopped the stairs to see his adorable brainiac.

She was docile, only watching him, never begging, as he swung the gate open and stepped inside. The stall was narrow but spacious, but Lucas threw himself down beside her despite having enough room to host an orgy if he wanted. The girl tipped her head back and breathed deeply, ready for whatever she thought he was gonna do.

“Skittles?” he offered, shaking the packet near his jaw with a feral grin that made his cheeks ache. He’d forgotten how to smile, so a grin would have to do.

The barest touch of her tongue between her lips made Lucas swallow. In her lap he noticed her fingers twitch.

“…why?”

He didn’t need a reason, but he had one, ‘course he did. Lucas wasn’t gonna tell her, though, so he just shrugged and tore the corner off the packet, shaking a few into his palm. All he needed to do was stare at her hands fer a few seconds before she got the idea and offered her palms to him; shackles clinking. Bruises and bloody scabs ran like bracelets around her wrists.

He dropped a few sickly bright skittles into her palm and watched her wince, trying to put them in her mouth. If he weren’t so sure she’d bite his fingers off or curl her nose in disgust, he’d have fed them to her.

“So, ya like numbers, huh?” He waited for her to say something, but she merely sucked the Skittles in her mouth with half-closed eyes; savoring the sugar in silence.

“Me too,” he sighed, scooting a little closer to her until he just missed bumping her broken leg.

“My Pa said I was gifted when ah’ was younger. But hell! - Guess geniuses go crazy every damn day, huh? Jus’ another one with a bad brain.” It felt better talkin’ to someone that wasn’t Eveline…or imaginary like Oliver had been (sometimes still was). Even if she didn’t talk back, Lucas liked laying back in the barn with her. Nothin’ else better to do anyhow and it was the closest he dared to get to something resembling cuddles. Not that he wanted that… obviously.

“… can I have some more?” she asked, sounding so tiny and small that somethin’ in Lucas started to hurt. He looked up at her from the soft ground, saw how empty her eyes were - like a dead sea - and handed her the whole bag of skittles. The little, hopeless smile she gave him made his chest tighten like there was a hook buried in it.

The only thing that sucked about dosing himself with that serum was all the emotions he had coming back to him. That’s all it was. Could’ah done without ‘em, if he were honest, but the girl ate her candy through the pain, meeting her hands halfway down and somethin’ about giving her that little act of kindness made him wanna do more and more… and more.

For the next two days, he spent most of his time either telling himself not to go down and see her, or sitting with her in the barn, feeding her junk food, handing her bottles of water or talking to her (actually talking to himself, but that was neither here nor there).

Eventually, he went down to see her with a real goal in mind - not just trying to keep her alive. He brought the bolt cutters with him. The ol’ man wouldn’t sweat one little captive - not when he had dozens of ‘em fresh and ready to be hatched. If his Pa said anything, Lucas could just tell ‘im the molded got hungry and climbed the gate. Easy.

She withdrew at the sight of him with the cutters in hand, but still, she didn’t beg or scream. Lucas cut her chains without a word and tore her manacles off as easily as if they’d been clay. When he grabbed her around the waist, careful of the raw red skin where her chains had been, he felt her muscles tighten. Not one to take that shit personally, Lucas tried to smile but ended up grinning and slung her over his shoulder… only then did she scream. He could feel her tears soak through the back of his hoodie and her broken leg bang against his chest.

Lucas tried not to let the sounds of her agony bother him, but they did. Every step made him wince as she bawled her eyes out, shouting and begging him to stop - that it hurt 'it hurt so bad!’

In a few minutes, she’d be right as rain, but the pathetic, sloppy sounds still wedged their way under his skin somehow.

She sobbed when he set her down on his couch, fingers running along her broken thigh like fluttering leaves; listless. Pain lined her body - her face and brows. The lights above their heads highlight the heavy fall of tears that made Lucas feel guilty for some fucking reason. Not like he’d broken her leg…

He grumbled and left her there to her misery as he went to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of the good stuff for her and his last candy bar. Maybe she’d be more apt to forgive him if he showered her with sugar. Wouldn’t hurt, right? - And he was pretty desperate at that point.

When he returned, she was halfway across the floor, dragging herself towards the door. A long, scattered line of dark blood following her line a snail trail.

“Hahaaaa’ah shit, sweetheart. Where’d you think yur goin’? Ain’t nothing out there but moldy freaks with them teeth waitin’ fer ya,” he laughed at her, hamming it up as his gut pulled when she merely whimpered and pulled herself another few inches across the floor.

Badass, bitch. Smart and sturdy and cute… didn’t find many of those anymore. Not that Lucas would know really. He never did get out much before Evie showed up - didn’t do much talking to girls even before he was labeled the crazy head.

Lucas swallowed and knelt down beside her, pulling at her ankle. She howled, hissed and threw a fist into his face. Took him by surprise, but it was weak and barely did more than sting. He hadn’t meant to pull at the busted leg like that.

Didn’t matter, though. He was gonna fix her, and she could hit him all she wanted if it made her feel better, Lucas could take it even if she broke his jaw. He gave her a hard look and poured the bottle’s cool, slick contents over her thigh.

Those wet blues fluttered closed, as the shit took effect.

“… I can feel my bones snapping.”

Lucas grinned, biting his lip to keep most of the infectious glee inside until he could breathe it back down, “Yeah, how about that? Feelin’ pretty good by now I reckon.”

She twisted at the waist, running a hand over her healed thigh before giving him a calculating look, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Bout what?”

“Everything,” she whispered, pulling her legs in, laying an arm over her chest with a slight blush. Guess now that she wasn’t in so much pain she had enough sense to be embarrassed by her tits hanging free. Lucas liked lookin’ at ‘em, but that free fun was over. If he’d wanted to keep ogling her, he coulda just kept her in the horse stall. Naw, Lucas wanted her - wanted to hug her close and wash away the blood and dirty, pat the wounds dry and kiss them better. It was real fuckin’ sappy and stupid and yet he didn’t bother worrying about it now that her leg was healed.

“T-this,” she started, inhaling brutally as Lucas dared put a hand on his calf, “you can’t kill her, take her away from me like that - you can’t snap my fucking leg in half and throw me in some damn pig pen and… and… and feed me candy like some pet and now this?!”

Lucas frowned, feeling like someone had a knife stuck in his stomach, giving it a good wiggle with each seething word.  She shook and cried silent tears, staring heatedly at him while he sat there frozen, just wanting to wrap his arm around her.

As more grief poured outta her, her lips started to quiver like they were hooked up to car batteries, “That asshole h-he killed 'er and now you wanna… just do it already! Just do it!”

Her fists coiled and like a feral cat, she came at him, throwing a jab at his chest and another up into his chin.

Lucas hissed, grabbing at her wrists and pulled her up over his thighs, keeping her claws out of his eyes as she trembled and sobbed; leaking wet tears down into his lap. The only crying girl he’d helped was Zoe when they were teenagers when some cunt had called her fat during lunch. This was… Lucas tried to stop looking at her tits as they bounced while she cried - sought to halt the boner from growing between his legs as her hair tickled the back of his hands. Her eyes opened wide, stared up at him, and suddenly she collapsed into his chest; sniffling.

“Ain’t gonna rape ya…” he told her; pretty lame sounding in truth, but he wasn’t sure what to do with a crazy chick in his lap, curling her fingers around his sides… hugging him hatefully. Bitch was insane, but Lucas couldn’t ignore the warmth he felt as she held him around the middle, trying to suck some sort of comfort from him.

Lucas found himself wrapping his arms around her, holding her bare shoulders, rubbing her shivering, naked back as she whimpered into his chest. Shit circumstances and all, but Lucas loved every second of the contact. She was warm and soft…

“Shh… Hush, now,” he muttered, doing what his Mama used to do for him when he had nightmares… or scuffed up his knees on the stairs. The words just sorta came out without much thought to it, and before Lucas knew what was happenin’, he was whispering sweet nothings to this chick while she breathed easy against him. There on the floor, he held her, feeling her heart thud gently against his stomach.

It was the first real intimate contact he’d had since Eveline showed up, long before that even…and suddenly he couldn’t get enough of it. Lucas groaned, pulling her up and cradled her carefully in his lap. She only struggled for a second before sinking into his arms silently, breathing slow and gentle. Lucas inhaled the stale, blood tinged smell of her hair, found something sweet buried underneath the dirt and sighed.

“Thanks,” he muttered; lips on her scalp. Down beside his stomach, he felt a soft touch, like a thumb brushing the jut of his ribs and shuddered in pleasure.

If this was how good it felt to be held - to hold - and offer comfort then Lucas decided he wasn’t gonna let his Pa get this one. Lucas was gonna keep her safe and sound, and she wasn’t ever gonna feel pain again. If he had to kill ‘em all… he’d do it, just to keep her from cryin’ ever again.