#but in searching for it i got all my clean laundry put away and tidied up about three other regions of my house that needed it

[mittensmorgul]

x_x

[silli---lilli]

The Note

Dear Simon Riley,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. Dead or missing. Or maybe you have some other reason to be snooping through my things.

In any case, I hope finding this brings you some peace.

You can rest assured that at the moment I am writing this note, I have never been happier and I am not sure I ever could be.

You are my family, and my greatest friend.

If you go looking for something after this, let it be good tea, nice smiles, small animals. Don’t go looking for me, you already hold my heart and you always will.

I love you.

- Johnny

The clean, white paper, covered in Johnny’s meticulously perfect penmanship was thoroughly burned into the inside of Simon’s eyes. Eyes he wasn’t quite sure he could force to open.

His arms were chained behind him, tight enough, for long enough that he couldn’t quite feel his hands. He could feel his bare shoulders though, they cried out in pain every time he moved.

Johnny had gone MIA nearly two eeks earlier. Simon had been on overwatch, far from the field. He’d been on his own plane home when the decision was made to leave without Soap. He hadn’t made it to exfil. They’d looked, they’d called, they’d waited, and he didn’t come.

Simon had held it together for nearly two days, thinking somehow he might show up, that they might spot him. That third night, he’d locked himself in Soap’s room, determined to calm himself down. It wasn’t over. Someone had called his family, but it wasn’t over. And before they came to box up and send home Soap’s things, Simon needed a moment as close to Johnny as he could get.

He’d stood near the door for a moment, the soft light from the lamp he’d clicked on illuminating the exact way Soap had left his things. Most of it was put away, he was tidy, but he’d left the t-shirt he’d slept in on his unmade bed. He was tidy, but he liked feeling human.

Simon picked it up and held it to his face, breathing in the smell of his soap and laundry detergent. So familiar, and so like a bullet in the gut. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened the drawer in the small table beside it. There wasn’t much inside, a few personal items, and a worn copy of ‘Of Mice and Men’. Simon picked it up and flipped through the pages. He was surprised, when he got near the middle, to find a small, folded piece of paper. On the outside of it was his name. Simon.

Hs hands had been steady up to that point, but they shook as he pulled it out and unfolded it. He was glad no one could see him, his whole body shook as he read it, and then he was angry. White hot, blind rage at whoever left Johnny behind. At Johnny for leaving him. And he ripped the page in half and then into fourths and then he was only angry at himself.

He’d carefully picked up the damaged pieces, so lovingly thought out and out to paper by Soap’s ever-steady hands, and tucked them back between the pages of the book. He’d ducked out of Johnny’s room and gone back to his own and wondered if he’d ever really sleep again.

A few days later, they were following up on another tip, possible civilian captives, and they hoped the raid might save them while providing intel. He’d pulled one of the shredded pieces of the note from the pages of the book and tucked it in a pocket of his tac vest.

- Johnny

Simon was on overwatch again, and he’d been compromised before anyone knew what had happened. They’d found nothing but his bloody gear on the ground where he was supposed to be hiding. So he didn’t know, that in the basement of the compound they were searching below, they’d found a dehydrated, broken, but bright eyed Johnny Mactavish.

He was all the way back into the infirmary, an IV in his arm, when someone finally answered the question he hadn’t stopped asking.

Simon wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be coming back with the others.

Simon had been questioned mercilessly since they took him. They’d spotted his rank when they stripped him and done their best to squeeze anything they could from him. So far, they’d failed, and they’d begun to resort to more traditional methods of torture. Blood dripped from broken fingernails, cigarette burns littered his chest and neck.

He had nothing to say. No torture could match the memories playing as loud as a movie in his mind. Johnny’s laugh, Johnny’s serious voice, Johnny’s jokes through comms. The words in his fucking note. The thought that he was happy. Was.

Simon lost track of days and nights and his hunger and whatever lies he’d made up to keep his captors busy. There was no tea there, no smiles, so he held onto Johnny’s heart. The last whole piece of himself.

--

It wasn’t but a week later, Soap still weak, still ordered to rest, but sitting in Price’s office as he received a message from another group stationed farther north. A spy they had amongst enemy ranks had informed them of a possible British captive, and had a general location.

Soap had known Simon wasn’t dead. The bits of himself that lived in Simon must still be alive, or else he wouldn’t have such fight in him. And he’d found the book missing from his bedside table.

He hadn’t had it in him to go to Simon’s room. To rifle through his things. There’d been no family to call. He was just glad to know Simon had those words.

When they returned with him, barely conscious, they’d had to all but hold Soap back. Price had tried telling Simon when they found him that Soap was alive, that he was waiting, but he was disoriented and it fell on aching, confused ears.

It wasn’t until he was stabilized, cleaned up, and they let Soap go to him that he finally understood.

“I’m dead.” He stated.

Soap chuckled, reaching for his bandaged hand. “You’re not.”

“But you’re here.” He frowned.

“That’s right, Simon.” Soap turned his hand gently over in both of his. “I’m here.”

“Johnny?” He closed his eyes. The words were still there, but not like torture.

“Yeah.”

“I read your note.” He wrapped his hand around Soap’s. “You’ll have to write a new one for next time.”

Soap chuckled again, like beautiful music. “You won’t have to wait until I’m dead for the next one.”

Little notes started finding their way to Simon quite often. On his pillow, in the pocket of his pants, tucked into his notebook. And he always read them, and he always tore off his favorite pieces to carry close to his heart.

[pomplalamoose]

we need some domestic headcanons for luke 😭 i absolutely LOVE you for putting out so much luke content for the faint of heart

Making as much Luke content as I can is my mission here so thanks for your ask!!!🫶🏻

I hope this is what you wanted, if not, you are always welcome to ask for something more specific <3

• despite what he wants his Padawans and others to believe, Luke likes to sleep in

• of course he can't admit to that out loud because he's trying to be a good role model

• so outwardly he puts in great effort to be the stern and responsible teacher

• you, however, know better

• while he is never even a second too late and appeares out of thin air just when he is expected, he loves slow mornings in bed

• especially with you in his arms

• he's a "ohhh just five more minutes" kinda guy but tends to really REALLY stretch that saying

• until the five more minutes quickly turn into "shit I overslept" and suddenly he's scrambling, trying to do everything at once, often forgetting to get his breakfast in the process

• he never learns his lesson either which makes it even funnier 

• his students would have a blast if you told them the truth about their Master

• (even more so if they knew how he drools in his sleep)

• sometimes, after an especially hard day of training or a long excursion, he allows his Padawans a day of rest 

• what they don't know is that he enjoys those more than they do

• finally he has some time to sleep as long as he wants to

• while he also likes surprising you with an extravagant breakfast in bed, he much prefers to prepare it together 

• also, since we're on the topic, I think he'd be really into having brunch 

• when he has scraps of time in his every day life, he does his share of household chores 

• wearing an apron 

• so his very nice black clothes don't get dirty

• listen, I don't know where he got it from, maybe it was lying around some day because you took it off and forgot to put it away again 

• possibly it says something cheesy on the front, like "kiss the cook"

• OR even better, it has ruffles 

• either way he manages to look hot in it

• something about his broad frame in tight fitting clothes, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron bow at the back makes you want to climb him like a tree

• most of the time he is a very orderly person too, keeping your shared living space tidy and clean 

• except when it comes to his socks 

• they're lying around everywhere

• and I mean EVERYWHERE

• at the beginning of the week, after he did the laundry on Sundays, they are neatly folded and stacked in his drawer

• once they are out, they are out though 

• it's like they have a will of their own 

• so when he eventually runs out of clean ones, he has to painstakingly search every last corner of every room to get them all back together 

• on the plus side he's really good at building and fixing all kinds of things

• it definitely has to do with the way he grew up and he likes to do it too; it helps him get his mind off things 

• I totally see him forcing one or more of his students to help him out as a form of detention 

• (it's low-key fun though)

• he's like a dad in those moments, going full "hold that flashlight for me JUST like that" mode

• also he recruits them for extra credit from time to time when he's working on a special project 

• of course he could also put droids to work but insists on letting his Padawans do it, because "it's an important part of their education"

• (he likes having them around)

• he often tells them fun stories while they're at it and since he is a great story teller, they always have a good time 

• during the children's free time he allows himself to be more easy going with them and is totally down to play dress up or hide and seek

• occasionally he gets invited to little tea parties and picnics 

• also I think he'd try to make the introduction to meditation easy and more appproachable for the little ones by making them color out mandalas 

• (he likes mandalas too)

• he's horribly allergic to kiwis but doesn't know because he never encountered one before 

• (and probably never will, are there kiwis in space?)

• sometimes he randomly goes missing during the day 

• if that's the case there's a high chance he's off somewhere snorkeling to look at fishies 

• it's very hard to get his attention then and every call falls on deaf ears

• rumor has it he does it on purpose 

• when he eventually leaves the water sopping wet, with his pants clinging to him tightly, everyone forgives him easily enough though 

• especially his older students like to wait out for these moments

• I kind of see that turning into an event 

• he never quite understands what's going on but is delighted to see so many coming up to him

• (he understands very well but pretends he doesn't when you indignantly throw a towel and him, telling him to cover up)

[sporco-filth]

wife on strike

This idea came to me this morning and I just had to start writing it down. I'm sorry if you've been expecting updates for my other series, especially because this is just the intro of this one and not much slob stuff happens yet.

Synopsis: Tiffany is tired of picking up of her husband Felix and decides to stop cleaning to show him how much work she does and force him to help with chores

Tiffany looked over the kitchen and sighed. Toast crumbs were scattered over the benchtop, a jar of jam was left open, the knife dripping the sticky, red goop onto the tablecloth, while a half-drunk cup of coffee sat cold and forgotten next to a dirty plate. As always, Felix left it to her to clean up. "It's not like he has to rush off anywhere," she grumbled to herself. "He works for home for crying out loud!" And so went her day, like every other day: dishes, laundry, vacuuming, ironing, dusting, shopping, cooking… Since she had married Felix, life had become one long list of chores. I feel like his mother, she thought as she sat on the bed, folding clothes, the last job of the day. Sometimes I even have to nag him to shower. Just then, Felix came into the bedroom. He flopped onto the bed, disrupting Tiffany's neatly stacked piles, and took her hand. "Tiff, love," he said, stroking her fingers. "What do you say to a bit of… you know?" Tiffany pulled her hand away and quickly reorganised the laundry. "Not tonight, Felix, I'm not in the mood." Felix looked disappointed, but he didn't argue. He got up and went to get changed into his pyjamas, leaving his clothes on the floor. Tiffany sighed and went to pick them up. It wasn't that she wasn't attracted to Felix: he was just as handsome as they day she met him. It was just hard to want sex when she was tired from cleaning all day, and even less desirable when she had to treat him like her child.

That night, while Felix slept, Tiffany opened up her laptop. Husband is a slob, she typed into the search engine and pressed go. After skimming over a few posts on forums and letters to agony aunts, Tiffany was feeling dispirited. So far, all the suggestions were things she had tried in the past to no avail. There had to be a better way. A news headline caught her eye: Wife on Strike. She clicked the link and found a story about a woman who refused to tidy up for her husband until he finally decided if he wanted a clean house he would have to do it himself. He came to appreciate the work his wife did and so they now shared the chores fairly. Tiffany was intrigued. It was an unconventional idea, sure, but perhaps that was just what she needed. After a week or two without clean underwear or home cooked meals, Felix would surely buckle and start pitching in. She shut the laptop and slipped into bed, smiling to herself. Starting tomorrow, I'm going on strike!

The next morning, Tiffany allowed herself to sleep in. Since she didn't need to unstack the dishwasher or do the laundry, she had no reason to rush out of bed. Felix got up at his usual time and made himself breakfast and got ready for work. When Tiffany finally got up, she was greeted with the typical morning mess, but she ignored it and made her own breakfast. When she was done, she just left her dirty dishes on the table. No wonder Felix never does anything, she thought, chuckling. It's so freeing to just make leave messes for others to clean up. She spent the morning lying about on the sofa in her dressing gown. Eventually, Felix came out for lunch. "You look pretty comfy," he commented, smiling. "You know I always thought you need a bit of relaxation." Tiffany chuckled. Felix didn't realise what was in store for him and she wasn't going to spoil the surprise. He rifled through the fridge and assembled a sandwich on the kitchen bench. To his credit, he at least remembered to put away most of the ingredients, though he forgot the mayonnaise, but the chopping board was left covered in crumbs and dirty knives. Tiffany turned back to the magazine she was reading. It was going to be tough, but she knew she had to steel her nerves and plough onwards.

When the sun began to set, Felix entered the living room, stretching his arms. "Ah, another day done," he said with a yawn. "What's for dinner?" "I don't know," Tiffany said. Felix scratched his ear. "What d'you mean?" "I don't feel like cooking tonight." Felix smiled. "Ah, that's OK. We can order take away." Tiffany shook her head as Felix got out his phone and went to call the local Chinese restaurant. She'd hoped he'd offer to cook, but at least he was taking initiative.

Dinner that night was eaten in front of the TV. Felix joked about the show they were watching and without the list of things to do nagging at the back of her mind, Tiffany actually paid attention. She snuggled up next to him, just enjoying being with him. Felix belched mid-sentence. Tiffany bit back the urge to tell him to excuse himself. In fact, it gave her an idea. If I behave like a slob too, she thought. Maybe it'll make him realise how gross he is… She tucked this thought in the back of her mind for safekeeping and continued watching the show. They went to bed with the empty take-away containers on the coffee table. Before she closed the bedroom door, Tiffany took a look around their open-plan dining/living/kitchen space, taking in the mess that had already accumulated from a single day. This'll be easy, she thought. In a week it'll already be a pigsty.

[canofspooks]

DannyMay Day 20 (Nasty Burger)

Summary: Five years after the series takes place, Danny feels like his life is at a dead-end. Stuck in Amity Park, working at the Nasty Burger, while the rest of the world moves on without him.

Words: 937

Danny tossed his keys onto the counter and looked around at the dimly-lit apartment. Dirty dishes from the last couple of days were strewn around. Cleaning right after getting off of his last shift at the Nasty Burger wasn't exactly his idea of fun, but if he left it any longer he might get ants, and then he'd have a real problem.

Get changed first. Then dishes.

He trudged into his bedroom and worked the shirt of his uniform over his head. Then came his binder, which was less cooperative. He grunted and twisted around awkwardly until he was finally freed, then tossed the garments into the growing pile on his desk chair.

Home sweet home. Danny threw on an old t-shirt that hadn't been washed in days. Dishes first, then laundry. Or, dishes first, then sweeping, then - the list of chores went on. All he wanted to do was collapse onto the bed.

He indulged himself enough to flop onto the covers and stare at the ceiling until the nagging in his mind overtook his desire to stay still. He combed through the apartment, grabbing dirty dishes from odd places they'd stayed hidden for who knows how long. He grimaced, lifting a coffee cup off a copy of his resume he'd left laying out on his desk. A dark ring stained it, meaning he'd have to print it out again if he wanted to bother continuing his job search.

He couldn't keep working at the Nasty Burger forever.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Tucker.

Danny gritted his teeth into a fake smile to hopefully encourage any semblance of life to return to his voice as he picked up.

"Hey Tuck, how've things been?"

"Pretty alright. You've never been out of the country, right?" Tucker asked.

"... Weird question to lead with. Unless we're counting Phantom business, no. Why do you ask?"

Tucker made an excited squeal so loud, Danny had to pull the speaker away from his ear. "I got an interview with Lockheed! Or, I'm going to. They need to make sure I'm not associating with terrorists or whatever. They take their shit seriously. They're testing for drugs I didn't even know existed!"

"Wow, you're really going up in the world, huh? I'm happy for you, man." Danny moved away from the coffee-stained resume and dumped his dishes in the sink.

"Thanks. I just can't believe it's really happening. Right out of college, too. I can't believe my luck."

Danny idly began tidying up the room, throwing old pizza boxes in the trash and tossing laundry in a seldom-used hamper. The chair was an easier shot from his bed.

"It's not luck," he assured Tucker, trying and failing to toss loose pens into his desk drawer. "You're a smart guy. You're probably better qualified for the job than half of the people applying for it."

"I mean, you're right, but I'm trying to be humble here, Danny. Anyway, how's Amity? I heard it was a cold week."

"It's the same old, same old. Dash broke up with another chick and he's making it my problem every time he gets a lunch break." Coming in when he knew Danny was the only one on-shift, bugging him with small-talk, complaining about every little thing wrong with his order. Dash was far from the worst customer - even the former bully had some level of common human decency. The older folk, less so.

He'd find a new job eventually.

"Jeez, I don't know why you put up with Dash. With Phantom, you could fuck with him so hard."

"Yeah but then he's in a bad mood, and he takes it out on me."

Tucker sighed. "I'm not suggesting anything, but Phantom's a pretty good get-out-of-jail free card for most situations. Permanent solutions."

"Tuck." All the playfulness drained from his voice in an instant.

"Sorry, sorry. That was bad. Um, maybe you could move out here? I could always use a roommate. There's pretty good job opportunities out here."

Danny felt the weight of the last five years weighing on his body. He dragged the hamper over to his room and dumped the clothes from his chair into a messy pile… vaguely inside the hamper. That gave him enough room to sit and spin around in the chair until he could think of the words to say.

Please.

It would be so nice.

"You know I gotta say no. Amity needs Phantom."

The pauses between their responses were slow, and measured. Tucker tested the waters, more assertive than before. "Amity can figure itself out, alright? If there were enough ghost hunters there to mess with you when we were in highschool, then they can spend their time hunting the ghosts who actually matter."

"I can't-"

"- Think about it. All I'm saying is, the offer's out there. I miss hanging with you."

A sad smile pulled at the corners of Danny's lips. He wiped away a tear with his palm. "Talk to you later, Tuck. Thanks."

"Alright… call me if you need anything."

With a click, he hung up. Danny sank down into the chair and looked up at the ceiling.

Amity didn't need Danny Fenton anymore. Jazz, Sam, Tucker - everyone in his life who meant anything had moved on. Promised to keep in touch. Tried, he'd give them that. It was hard to keep in contact when the rest of the world was moving so fast and here he was, stuck for the last five years in a dead-end town because it needed Phantom more than anything he was worth on his own.

Maybe that would have to change.

[whentherewerebicycles]

PHEW what have I even done today. got up at 7:15 and felt physically awful. for some reason my sleep has been all messed up this week and it’s making the mornings kinda rough. but I painted swatches of my top two paint colors on the wall, messed around a bunch with the lighting in my room, put in two good hours on a work project I couldn’t seem to make progress on last week, searched fbook marketplace for a new dresser, and did a little tidying upstairs. I’d like to get out of bed now so here’s my plan:

finish cleaning out the upstairs junk drawer

drive to the trail and walk the dogs for an hour

showerrrrr

make avocado & egg toast for a late lunch

bake that apple-carrot bread

put away laundry, change sheets, start new load of laundry

print return label & drop in mailbox

do a 10-20 min burst of cleaning downstairs

dinner with L&A

[storiesofsvu]

I saw that Headcannon on Sonny speaking at Fordham and immediately thought of Barba doing the same thing with a student catching his eye... but my head also thought of Barba having a girlfriend who color coordinates his suits, socks and everything in his closet.

okay. so i see your headcanon, and I raise you this and hope this is alright lol!!

So.

Rafael *himself* is meticulously organized. his apartment looks like a show home 90% of the time. occasionally you'll find a coffee mug in the sink, or various ones scattered around the apartment, but aside from that, it's clean and tidy af.

no matter the size of his apartment, he gets it slightly remodeled so he can have some kind of walk in closet, even if it's a smaller one. His suits are all organized on level of how expensive/fancy they are. ties, pocket squares, and all of his socks are all organized perfectly and colour coded. everything gets put away directly after laundry day/dry cleaning comes in, and he knows exactly where everything is supposed to be.

He knows that you're not as organized or clean as he is, but you're not messy. your apartment is tidy, dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and clothes in the laundry hamper, not on the floor. despite having spent the night multiple times, it's usually the evening before a lazy day, meaning you'll stay in pjs or sweats, and he somehow has never seen your closet.

date night rolls around, he's made you a delicious homecooked meal at your apartment. you're pouring wine for the two of you when he wraps his arms around you, rubbing at your arms, mentioning that you've got goosebumps and asks if you're cold.

"It's a little chilly in here. You mind grabbing my red cardigan from my closet?"

"course." he pecks your cheek before sauntering down the hall as you plate up the food and get settled on the couch. there's less than five minutes before your fave tv show night starts.

back in the bedroom Rafael pulls open the french doors to your closet and has to hold back an audible gasp.

it's not colour coordinated, it's barely organized.

there's things half tossed on hangers, shirts mixed with pants, workout gear mixed in between cocktail dresses. a row of shoes up top, and strewn along the bottom. the only thing that IS organized is the dirty clothes hamper (he then notices that you have one of the sets where one is for whites and one is for colours and...yeah...there's a pink sock in the whites bin that's definitely going to fuck you over later)

he tries to ignore it, eyes searching for the red cardigan you asked for.

only thing is....he can't seem to figure out which you were talking about.

there's a maroon cardigan, a bright red thick cardigan, a burgandy hoodie, a fleece carmine cardigan, and on top of that he notices the men's crimson Harvard hoodie buried amongst a pile of tights that he'd been missing for a few months now.

so he starts by pulling out those five, tossing them onto the bed.

that of course causes about six other things topple out of the closet, a stiletto nearly hitting him in the head.

back in the living room, you've burrowed under a blanket, and thus forgotten about the need for a sweater, digging into dinner, distracted by the tv.

by the third commercial break your brow furrows and you glance down the hall at the sound of a clunk. so you go to investigate.

"babe you've missed half the show already, what're you doing?" you ask as you enter the bedroom.

"uh...babe?"

Rafael's got stacks of clothing separated on your bed, and his head stuck in your closet as he pulls out a few other things.

"red sweater?!" he asks rather wildly, gesturing toward the original pile.

"oh...yeah..." you eye the pile for a second, deciding to scoop up the harvard hoodie, "thanks. c;mon, dinner's getting cold."

"I can reheat it."

"wait...are you reorganizing my closet?"

"HOW DO YOU EVER FIND THINGS?!"

you laugh, explaining that you don't really have a system, but there's never really a need for it, you just grab and go.

he heavily rolls his eyes and insists on redoing it.

the wine glasses end up in the bedroom as you sit on the bed, watching him pull every single thing in the closet out, starting a donation pile as he forces you to Marie Kondo the entire thing.

this of course, also sparks a mini fashion show as he pulls out clothing you haven't seen in YEARS and must see if it still fits.

it takes nearly all night, but by the end he's got your things organized into formal wear, business casual, casual, and cozy/workout. he did his best to hold back from colour coding within those categories, but they're still relatively lightest to darkest.

he presses a firm kiss to the top of your head, "for the love of all things holy, please....try to keep it like this?"

"i'm not gonna tell you how in shambles my dresser is...."

[demonbanisher]

Hey y’all. I have been having A Time and its so frustrating because there is so much I want to do where my brain is like haha fuck you we aren’t doing that today. But I was determined to get something done. So here’s some more Unexpected AU for y’all and thanks for being with patient with me 💜

Unexpected AU Master List

TW: ripped stitches and blood

I’m Not Them

The day the Potters were set to come meet Addie, Remus woke up early. He hadn’t been sleeping much since she’d been born, between Addie being up through the night and being in pain every time he rolled over. He tiptoed carefully past Sirius and scooped Addie out of her crib. 

He took her into the kitchen and hummed to her softly as he got the formula ready and then sat down to feed her. He then got her settled in the baby wrap his mom had gotten for him and set about tidying up the mess of their house, the pile of bottles in the sink they hadn’t had time to clean, the overflowing diaper garbage they kept meaning to clean out, the endless piles of laundry that never seemed to stop. He was just finishing up when Sirius came wandering out of their bedroom rubbing his eyes. 

“Morning,” Remus said, as he wandered over to give him a kiss. 

“Morning,” Sirius said, yawning and then frowning slightly when he saw Addie strapped to Remus’s chest. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” Remus lied.

“You shouldn’t have her on your chest for too long. You’re still healing. It’s barely been a week.”

“I know I’m just…” Remus trailed off. Nervous? It felt so silly to say aloud, as if he thought the Potters would be mad at him for having an unplanned child with their son. 

Sirius wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee and started to take in the little things that were different. The empty sink, the organized and tidied counters, and the already warm pot of coffee with their best mugs set out for all of them. “Remus, it’s just my parents coming by, you know you don’t need to,” but he was cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

“I’ll get it,” Remus said, heading in the direction of the front door, looking much too cheery for someone who had just had major surgery a few days ago. 

“Oh my goodness,” Euphemia said, the second the door was open. “What are you doing up on your feet darling? You’ve just had a baby and surgery. Come now, you must sit down this instant.”

Sirius smiled around his mug of coffee, grateful that he could count on his mum to always have his back. “Hi Mum, Dad,” he said as he wandered into the living room where his mum was currently fussing over Remus to his protest while his dad sorted through the bags of gifts and goodies they brought with them. 

“Sirius dear,” his Mum said, beaming, distracted from her task only long enough to give Sirius a quick peck on the cheek. “Please tell your husband he needs to rest.”

Sirius looked at Remus who was silently begging for help and gave him a slight, sideways smirk in return. “Bold of you to think he’d listen to me.”

Remus scowled at him in response and Sirius turned away so it didn’t seem so obvious that he was finding joy in his husband’s misery.

“Let me just get you coffee first Mia, then I’ll sit down,” Remus said as he slipped past her, wincing as he got to his feet again. 

Sirius frowned. “You okay?”

Before Remus could answer, Euphemia was replying for him. “He’ll be okay once he’s resting. Let me take my granddaughter from you. Fleamont can you go and get us some coffee or maybe put the kettle on for tea. Sirius, come sit down with your husband. You both must be so tired.”

Sirius grinned at Remus as he helped his mother free Addie from the baby wrap before being forcefully seated next to him on the couch. 

“Oh my,” Euphemia said as she sat down on Remus’s other side. “Fleamont forget the drinks come look at how perfect our granddaughter is.”

Fleamont came back a moment later with two cups of coffee. “She’ll be mad at me in an hour when she doesn’t have her caffeine,” he told Sirius and Remus teasingly. 

“You’re lucky I’m too happy looking at this baby right now to be mad at you.”

Fleamont smiled and leaned down to look at the bundle in his wife’s arms. 

“Have you ever seen a more perfect baby?” she said.

“I think you say that about all the babies,” Fleamont said, planting a kiss on his wife’s head, but you can see in his eyes that he was just as smitten as she was. 

“Have you two thought about what you want to be called?” Sirius asked.

“I think Grammie and Gramps,” Euphemia said. “What do you think dear?”

“Whatever you want love,” Fleamont said. 

Euphemia looked back down at her granddaughter. “Addie is a good name.”

“That was all Remus,” Sirius said smiling.

Remus nodded, but Sirius noticed him squirming as he tried to discreetly press a hand to his side. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered.

“Yes,” Remus said, and then to all of them. “I just have to run to the washroom quickly. I’ll be right back.”

Once he was gone, Euphemia passed Addie off to Fleamont so she could focus on her son. “How are you doing sweetheart?”

Sirius immediately melted into her side. “I’m okay.”

“Darling, I talked to James. He told me how bad it was. How you almost lost him.”

Sirius tensed against her. 

“You’re allowed to fall apart,” she said as she brushed his hair out of his face. "The two of you are. I mean when James was born I didn’t have a flying fuck what I was doing. My place was certainly more of a mess than this and I can assure you Fleamont and I had spent years trying to learn all we could about babies. Being a new parent is hard enough, you don’t have to make it harder on yourself by feeling you have to have it all together.”

Sirius sat up a bit, knowing if he kept listening to his mom talking like this, he’d eventually give in. “If I let myself fall apart, I’m not going to get back up afterwards.”

“Sirius - “ she said, reaching out for him, but he stood up and stepped out of her grasp.

“Remus has been gone a while. I’m just going to check on him.”

“Of course," she said pulling her back into her chest and smiling at him. “We got Addie. Take all the time you need.”

Sirius sighed as he wandered in the direction of the bedroom. He wasn’t stupid. He knew both him and Remus were a mess, but he also knew neither of them had both the energy to deal with processing anything that happened while still being able to take care of Addie. 

He found the door to the bathroom closed but could see the light on underneath. He knocked, “Remus, you okay in there?” He heard something fall and then Remus cursed.

“Yeah, just give me one second.”

Sirius frowned and tried the handle only to find it locked. Now he knew something was wrong. They had a strict no locking the bathroom door rule after Remus had fainted while trying to shower after a full moon and in his panic Sirius had forgotten about magic and broken the door down. 

“Remus, why is the door locked?”

“Just one second Pads.”

“Remus, open the door right now please or I’ll unlock it myself.”

He heard Remus sigh and then a faint click of the lock on the door before it opened. “Don’t freak out,” Remus said as Sirius stepped inside.

Sirius froze as he took in the blood stained tissues and gauze that seemed to cover every surface of their vanity. Remus looked pale and had his hands pressed to his side as blood leaked through his fingers. “What the fuck happened?”

“I think I tore my stitches, but the blood is coming out too quickly for me to heal it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Remus opened his mouth to speak but before he could Sirius cut him off, “I swear to god if you say you didn’t want to be a bother I’m going to scream.”

Remus closed his mouth and looked down sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad. Okay, maybe I’m a little mad. I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Sirius led Remus to sit down on the shower chair as he kneeled to better inspect the wound. “I thought you said you and Addie had only been up for a bit.”

“We’d been up for three hours and I panic cleaned the whole house with her on my chest.”

Sirius reached for a fresh sheet of gauze and gestured for Remus to move his hands before pressing it against the wound. “Remus, you know you can’t be moving like that yet.”

“I know. I got worried. I knew your parents were coming by and I don’t know how much of a mess I’m allowed to be as a new parent.”

“Love, not only are you a new parent but you just endured an extremely traumatic medical event. I don’t think anyone gets to tell you how put together or falling apart you have to be.”

Remus nodded, closing his eyes as the world started to spin. 

“You alright?” Sirius asked.

“Dizzy,” Remus mumbled. 

“Okay, I’m going to grab my wand. Yell if you think you might faint.” Sirius got up and grabbed his wand from the nightstand, stopping on his way back to get the healer kit he kept under the sink. “Keep the gauze tight. I’m just going to poke my want under to cast the healing spell and then I’m going to stitch it up to be safe.”

Remus nodded as Sirius did what he said, sighing in relief as the magic washed over him. Sirius then opened the kit and slowly started to stitch the faded wound together for good measure. His hands trembling as he realized Remus’s blood was all over them again. By the time he was almost finished he was shaking so bad he could barely hold the needle.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked.

“I’m fine,” Sirius said as he pushed himself to his feet and went to clean his hands up in the sink. “We’re both fine.”

Remus went to stand and started to swoon. Sirius caught sight of him going down in the mirror and managed to turn around just in time to catch him. “Lean on me,” Sirius said as he led him back to the chair. “I’m gonna clean you up and then we’ll get you into bed.”

Remus didn’t argue as Sirius slowly washed all the blood off of Remus’s middle and then brought in a set of loose pyjamas that he helped him change into. Sirius then helped him to his feet and got him into bed. 

“I can make it to the living room,” Remus said, even though Sirius was effectively holding him upright.

“No, you can make it to bed,” Sirius said sternly. “I’ll bring my parents and Addie in here to finish the visit and I promise they won’t panic when they see the messiest room of our house, okay?”

Remus nodded. He was too tired to fight. 

“I’ll get you some juice and chocolate to help with your blood sugar. Under no circumstances are you to get out of the bed by yourself today, you hear me?”

Remus couldn’t help but smile. “You’re gonna be a great dad.”

Sirius offered his own smile in response before heading back to the living room himself.

“Everything alright?” Euphemia asked from where she was sitting on the floor playing with Addie. Sirius didn’t miss the way that her eyes flashed to his bloodstained clothes and realized he had forgotten to change. 

“Yeah, sorry. One of Remus’s stitches came loose.” It was a gross understatement but Sirius couldn’t deal with being suffocated in their well meaning concern right now. 

“Would you and Dad be okay to sit with him? We can bring Addie’s stuff in there just for today.”

“Of course.”

“I’m just going to get Remus some orange juice and chocolate and then I’ll meet you in there.”

“Fleamont,” Euphemia said and he was on his feet before she even finished. Sirius wondered how long you had to be married before every different intonation of your name became a secret language. “Go sit with Remus, I’ll be right there.”

Sirius made his best disgruntled noise but headed down the hallway into their bedroom to curl up next to Remus.

“Where are you parents?” Remus asked. 

“Getting Addie’s stuff together to bring in here while also secretly discussing how worried they are about us.”

Remus let his head flop back against the pillow. “Maybe we should have waited a little longer before having them come over.”

“I think Mum might have broken to our house in the middle of the night if I made her go one more day without seeing her granddaughter.”

Remus laughed and then winced at the pain in his side.

“Easy love,” Sirius said, laying a protective hand where the wound was.

Euphemia appeared with Addie a little while later.

“Mum where did that onesie come from?”

“Hmm,” Euphemia said as she sat down in the rocking chair. “Oh, I picked up in the store the other day. I went to change her diaper and just decided I had to see her in it. Look it even has a little tail!” She lifted Addie up so they could see that indeed there was a tail on the bum to match the little bear ears that were on the hood. 

“Remus, I think we might have a problem with our child being spoiled rotten.”

“Oh hush,” Euphemia said. “I’m a grandmother now. It’s what we do.”

Fleamont appeared a little later laden with a tray that had two plates with bacon, eggs, and toast, two glasses of orange juice, Sirius’s unfinished coffee, and a chocolate bar. 

“Da,” Sirius said, “you didn’t have to do all of that.”

Fleamont just smiled and looked at the floor the way he did when any complimented him or acknowledged he was capable of love and soft things. 

The four of them chatted while Sirius and Remus ate breakfast. Euphemia had Fleamont showed them every gift that they’d brought for Addie, beaming in excitement at every item. At some point during the conversation, Remus stared to doze off and it wasn’t long before him and Addie were soundly asleep. 

“Sirius love,” his mom said quietly. “Do you want to change?”

The blood on his clothes had since dried and had made the fabric hard and crunchy. He felt silly that he had forgotten to do so earlier. “Right,” he said as he got up and went to grab a clean shirt.

“I saw the bathroom,” Euphemia said, softly.

Sirius’s hands stilled and he closed his eyes. “I’ll clean it up in a second so you and Dad can you use it.”

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying.”

“What?” Sirius snapped. “What are you saying?” He froze when Remus moaned in his sleep and all their eyes went to him for a moment before he stilled after turning over. Sirius walked over to the bed and carefully lifted the covers so he could check that the stitches hadn’t torn again.

“Hope called me love, she told me Remus said she could go home after your first two days back here and that she didn’t think he was ready to be on his own.”

“Are you accusing me of kicking my mother-in-law out of our house?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low as he tucked Remus back in again. The steady simmer enough to show his anger.

“No darling. I’m just trying to say I’m worried about you,” she looked to Fleamont. “We’re all worried about you.”

“Remus asked his mom to leave. The support was good but the two of us have a lot to figure out and process. We needed some space to do that.”

“I know and I’m not arguing with that. I just know that you are Remus both have a habit of pulling inwards on yourself when you’re struggling.”

Sirius felt himself bristle. “I’m going to be a good parent. I’m not going to be like them.”

“Sirius, I’m not saying that.”

Sirius wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the trembling from earlier return. “I think you guys you should go. 

“Sirius -“

“Euphemia,” Fleamont interrupted, placing a steady hand on her arm. “Let’s give them their space.” He smiled at Sirius and Sirius tried to communicate a silent thank you back.

Euphemia nodded and got up to put Addie in her crib. “Floo us if you need us. Anytime.”

Sirius nodded and waited until he heard the sharp crack of them aparating away to give up any sense of being okay and crawl under the covers and wrap himself around Remus as the tears came. 

“Hey,” Remus mumbled as he came to and ran a hand gently through Sirius’s hair. “What’s wrong?” His voice was drowsy likely from both lack of sleep and the physical drain on his body. Sirius felt bad for waking him. 

“Got in a fight with my parents.”

Remus pulled him in closer to his chest. “Want to talk about it?”

“They’re worried about us and it feels like they’re worried that we can’t do this. That I can’t do this.” He buried himself deeper into Remus’s side. “Is it stupid that over a decade later I’m still looking over my shoulder for them?”

“Your bio parents?”

Sirius nodded. “Euphemia and Fleamont didn’t do anything but it feels like my whole life I’ve been waiting for them to. Anytime they came to see what artwork I was drawing, or wanted to read an essay, or I came downstairs in new clothes, I was waiting for proof that they were just like them. Maybe I was just waiting for confirmation that everyone was.”

“Because then hopefully it would stop hurting so much that your parents abused you?”

“It’s stupid. I know.”

“It’s not stupid. It makes perfect sense. Not that its the same thing, but you know how many times I walk into a doctor’s office expecting them to be an uneducated twat? Sometimes bad things happen for no reason and it sucks because it feel like if you had a reason for the pain then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Do you think I’m going to be a bad parent?” Sirius mumbled, his face fully buried in Remus’s shirt.

“No. You’re not them. You are not going to be them. I’ll tell you that as often as you need to hear it, okay?”

Sirius nodded, scrunching up Remus’s shirt in the process. “I should call them and apologize.”

“Or, hear me out, we could have a nice family nap and then you could call them after?”

Sirius pulled the blanket up tighter around the two of them. “A family nap sounds perfect."

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.

[honeytae]

God, I love you, but what are you doing to my towels?

hi bubs! honestly i don’t really know what this is..i literally just got into my softest joonie feels for this one (i am in pain). i hope you all enjoy this fluffy little lovefest between joon and the reader :( tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff word count: 2.0k

You did not want to get up. 

The comforting rise and fall of the chest pressing against your back made it impossible to, your boyfriend’s arms securing you in a spooning position as you lay wide awake in the sleeping man’s grip. 

Namjoon had gotten home from work nearly an hour ago now, sleepily crawling into bed where you’d been occupied reading a book while waiting for his arrival. Mumbling a question about the plot as he lightly kissed your shoulder, he had laid down behind you, seemingly to get a look at the words written on the pages. 

In the middle of your answer, you’d been interrupted with the sound of his adorable snores, stopping yourself with a smirk as you craned your neck to look back at him without moving your body to avoid startling him in his sleep. 

You had let him hold you for a while, but your mind was now reeling with things you needed to be doing, chores that you wouldn’t have time for tomorrow or the next day. 

As much as you adored spending time in your own personal human heater’s arms, you really had to get up and get things done. 

Placing your hand over his to gently intertwine your fingers, you slowly guided his hand away from its resting place on your stomach, lifting his arm just slightly into the air to scoot out of his trap. 

Hearing a muffled noise come from the man’s lips, you paused your actions, eyes scanning his face for signs of him stirring before continuing when you concluded he was very much still in his own little dreamland, mouth gaped open slightly as he rested his cheek on his open palm.

Silently tip-toeing out of the room, you set out for the kitchen, tucking your fingers underneath the hair tie wrapped around your wrist to gather your loose strands back and out of the way. 

Deciding to get to work on the dirty plates stacked in the sink, you rolled the sleeves of your sweatshirt up your arms, grabbing one of the bowls from breakfast to properly rinse it under the hot water from the faucet.

Setting the bowl down in the sink once it was thoroughly cleaned out, you breathed out a deep sigh, appreciative of the silence in your building that made naps a guarantee at any time of the day. After pulling another all-nighter in the studio, Namjoon desperately needed one.

It was on the third dish that the silence was interrupted; but not by neighbors.

“Babe?”

You looked up from the porcelain at the sound of Namjoon’s voice calling for you, lowering the water pressure of the tap so you could properly respond to him.  

“Kitchen!” You answered his unasked question, chuckling when you heard his footsteps immediately close in on the kitchen in response.

Approaching you from behind, he wrapped a limb around your torso, setting his chin on your shoulder as you turned your neck to smile at him. 

“Hey, cutie.” He grinned, locking both arms around your waist to hug you tight to his chest, picking his head up to pucker his lips against the side of your head, making you giggle at his exaggerated “muah” punctuating the action. 

“Hi, Joonie.” You greeted, turning your head to the side to press your lips to his.

“Why are you out of bed?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at the man as your hands blindly placed the dish you’d been rinsing back down in the basin in front of you.

He smiled in response as he leaned his forehead onto yours, his dark eyes shining back at you as he lightly swayed the two of you back and forth.   

“Missed you.” Namjoon replied, puffy eyes blinking at you as he watched you turn your focus back to the plate in your hand, a small smile playing on your lips at his excuse.

“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to get these done, you know how I am.” You shrugged, Namjoon’s chuckle against your ear vibrating the cartilage with his proximity.

You smiled at the feeling, the familiarity of your boyfriend always being extra clingy whenever he was sleepy. You loved it. 

“I do. It’s okay, though, I should be up helping anyway.” He said, to which you immediately shook your head to negate his statement. 

“You should be sleeping, Joonie.” You lightly scolded him for being up, the man sighing at your stubbornness before pressing his lips to the back of your head, unwrapping his arms from you and stepping away from your body. 

Thinking that he was headed back to bed with the sudden withdrawal, you slid the rinsed plate into the designated pile for ones that needed to go into the dishwashing machine below the counter, readily going back to work. 

Feeling Namjoon’s presence next to you, you turned to look over at him, spotting the mini towel in his hand as he reached over to grab a plate from the drying rack of the dishwasher. 

“Hey, hey, hey. No.” You grabbed the dishtowel from his hands, the man shooting you a confused look as you threw the towel over your shoulder. 

“I just want you to go lay down, okay? I got this, baby.” You insisted, the man opening his mouth to protest before you cut him off again.

“You can’t tell me you’re not tired, Joon. You were in the studio all night.” You looked at his dark eye bags with concern, the man brushing your words off with a soft smile. 

“I’m a little tired. But-” 

He laughed when you cut him off with a scoff, hands settling on his shoulders to turn his body out of the kitchen. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll take a nap. But not because you told me to.” He pointed at you, you waving him off with a smile as you turned back to your dishes. 

The fact that your boyfriend was finally complying to sleep made you speed up your chores, putting the dishes away and loading up the second group of dishes in record time to rejoin the man in your bed. 

After filling a glass of water for your snoozing boyfriend, you made your way back to your bedroom in hopes to finally cuddle in peace now that you’d done something productive, excitement filling your body at the thought of his warm body heat, incomparable to the blankets you were forced to use when he was gone. 

The bedroom was dark, shades drawn, so you slowly stalked into the room to make no noise. Walking in a bit farther though, you noticed that your bed had no body-sized lump in it like you were expecting. 

Running your hand over the empty sheets to confirm your suspicion, you exhaled a groan, setting the glass of water down on the night-side table and turning to search for the stubborn man with a mumbled profanity. 

“Hey Joon?” You called out into the hallway, huffing when you got no response. 

Pushing the creaky bathroom door open with your palm, you discovered no sign of his presence, frowning as you turned to march down the hall to the living room. 

Entering the room, your eyes quickly fell to the man sitting on the floor, a basket full of clothes placed next to him on the ground as he squinted in concentration, fully focused on folding the washcloths into perfect squares. 

The vision would’ve been laughable if you weren’t so annoyed, utterly frustrated at the man’s stubborn attitude but endeared at his good-natured heart.

“What are you doing?”

Namjoon’s guilty wide-eyed expression nearly made you lose composure as his head snapped up at the sound of your voice, a small smile threatening to make an appearance on his lips as you crossed your arms over your chest sternly. 

“Laundry?” He answered in a question, resuming his folding as he laid a towel out between the spread V of his legs. 

You stifled another laugh at the picture in front of you, Namjoon hunched over the towel as he folded it into thirds. His long legs stretched out in front of him for what seemed like miles, arms outstretched to hold up the material he’d been folding corner to corner. 

Eyes meeting yours once again, he raised his eyebrows innocently, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as you walked into the room and sat beside him. 

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” You sighed, grabbing one of his t-shirts to fold before placing it on his growing pile on the ground. 

“I love you.” He leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek, you rolling your eyes at him as you reached for the towel in his hands.

“Yeah, yeah.” You replied, looking around the floor in search of a pile for the towels Namjoon had apparently been occupied folding. 

Your jaw nearly dropped at the way they were stacked atop each other, each one atrociously rolled in a way that had your type A skin crawling immediately. He had to be fucking kidding.

“Did you do that to mess with me?” You looked up at him, the man’s eyes widening in confusion as you gestured to the towels.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking back at you from the pile with an adorable puzzled look on his face. 

You really couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your own, sitting up on your knees to shuffle over to the pile to tidy it to your liking. 

“This, Joonie. This is what I mean.” You tucked your finger into the towel at the bottom of the stack to tug the pile closer to you, the man watching as you picked up the top one, now wrinkled from Namjoon’s initial folding of it. 

“God, I love you, but what are you doing to my towels?” You half whined, Namjoon chuckling as he watched you smooth the fabric out onto your thighs and refold it, placing it onto the ground beside you before grabbing the next one. 

You peeked at Namjoon out of the corner of your eye as he moved his body closer to yours, his arms draping around your waist distracting you only slightly as you concentrated on finishing up your re-folding.

Leaning his face into the side of your head, Namjoon began pressing gentle pecks to your hair, slowly bringing his lips forward to sprinkle kisses on your cheek. 

Turning your face to push your lips to his, Namjoon hummed into your mouth at the unexpected action, parting his lips when your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. 

You leaned farther into him as he placed his hand on your cheek so that your jaw was supported by his palm, welcoming you to straddle his lap with an encouraging grip on the back of your thigh, gently guiding you onto him. 

“I’m sorry I messed up your towels.” He mumbled, you humming in response before kissing him again. 

“You know what will make you forgiven?” You asked, putting on a sultry tone as you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“What?” He smirked, hands gripping your hips a little tighter at your seductive tone.

“Go get some damn sleep.” You replied dryly, Namjoon’s jaw dropping as you rolled off his lap, coming to a stand and walking out of the room, causing him to scramble up off the ground to go after you. 

You giggled as you ran to the bedroom, hearing Namjoon’s footsteps thumping on the hardwood floor behind you as you ran away from him. 

Throwing yourself on the mattress, you intercepted the man as he crawled atop your body, smiling down at you as your chuckles faded, eyes crinkling even more as you brushed his hair back from his forehead with a gentle swipe of your palm.

“You’re teasing me.” He murmured, soft tired eyes tracing your features in the dimmed room as you smirked up at him. 

“Hm. But I got you into bed, didn’t I?” You arched a brow at him, butterflies erupting in your stomach when you felt his palm slide up your shirt, fingers tracing over the hem of your bra. 

“Hm. You did.” He agreed, leaning down to catch his lips with yours again as you melted under his touch, sinking into the mattress more and more as he continued soothing your lips with his pillowy soft pair.

[hypnomicimagines]

Fateful Meeting [Ninja!Harai Kuko/Reader]

The young ninja’s eyes were sharp, intense, so much so it felt like you were looking into the sun.

You looked down and away from his glare as you continued to tend to his wounds, ignoring the way he shifted uncomfortably, like he didn’t want you touching him at all. But he was the one who had stumbled upon your home a complete bloody mess, barely conscious as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, a moment of weakness when he thought he was on death’s door. Now that you had given him water and stopped his wound from bleeding his normal temperament had come back, and something told you he wasn’t the most pleasant dinner guest to have.

You had just finished bandaging him up when he abruptly stood, grabbing your wrist to stop you from reaching out to touch him again. You shared a look, wondering if he was the type of ninja to have taken a vow of silence before he opened his mouth for the first time.

“What do you want?” His tone is harsh but you think it’s likely just the way he sounds, if his looks are anything to go by. “You wasted your healing supplies on me, so what is it you want in return?”

“I don’t expect you to repay my kindness. Kindness isn’t kindness if it’s done expecting gratitude. Although I do suggest you spend some more time here recovering before you go anywhere…” Kuko’s eyes widened ever so slightly at your words but he doesn’t allow you to fully see his surprise, his neutral expression returning just as quickly as it had left. He adjusted the mask on his face as he stepped towards the door, ignoring your pleas for him to sit and rest a while longer.

“I always repay my debts.”

“Wait! Can’t you tell me your name at least? Or is that part of the whole secretive ninja clan thing you clearly have going on?” He hesitated for a second at your request, so simple to you yet to him… it was a show of trust. To willingly give your name to a stranger could mean terrible things for someone whose job was to blend in with the night; it would be better if you could forget he was ever even there which is why he becomes even more surprised when he spoke.

“Harai Kuko. Don’t forget it!” There’s a little more emotion in his introduction, a little less cold and far more personality shining through (which reaffirmed your assumption he was not the type of guest to bring home to your parents). But you found yourself charmed by him all the same, gentle smile on your face as you waved goodbye, his name just a whisper on the wind with how quickly he was gone.

You’re in awe at how such a bright shock of red hair managed to fade perfectly into the darkness but he’s gone from your view within seconds, leaving you reeling at the experience, wondering if it had only been a dream. The bloodied bed where he laid as you tended to him told otherwise but you tried not to think too deeply on it, grabbing the sheets to toss into your laundry pile to clean later. You cleaned up the scraps of your bandages and tidied your home like no one had been there, knowing that you had to sleep soon as you couldn’t burn the candle at both ends. You had to be up early for your patients the next morning as well since the work never seemed to end in the midst of the war.

As you’re finishing up there’s several aggressive knocks at your door, your body suddenly tensed as something feels off. Ever since your late-night visitor had left you felt an odd sensation in your chest, this anxiety unwavering in the heavy night air as you wondered how things could possibly get more interesting. When you’re greeted with the sight of two heavy-set men your anxiety finds itself skyrocketing, finding yourself backed into the corner of your own home as they make themselves comfortable.

“Excuse us for intruding. We just happened to see a trail of blood leading here… Are you alright?” His tone indicated he was not at all concerned about your well-being so you didn’t reply, instead trying to fix him with a steady stare that said ‘I’ve done nothing wrong’. “Ah, I see, the quiet type. I don’t mind that however… we’re tracking down a certain menace. A man with bright red hair who we heavily injured earlier today.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Are you not the resident healer?”

“I am… but that blood trail could have just as easily been from an injured boar who was fighting for territory in the woods. Assuming it was human is a leap.”

“Might I ask why you’re still awake?”

“Some nights my mind keeps me awake with all sorts of thoughts, like whether or not I have to go into town to get more herbs and the like. You’re awfully inquisitive, are you perhaps looking to become a healer rather than being a person who supplies me patients?”

Your temper started to flare up despite you trying to carefully navigate the conversation, wanting these people who clearly came here to threaten you out of your home. You’d dealt with their type before, absolute savages, and you don’t appreciate their intrusion. You’re fonder of the random man who was bleeding out on your doorstep than these people who hurt just because they could, who bullied because they knew people were too afraid to stand up to them. Your irritation doesn’t go unnoticed but is returned with a heavy silence and glares, the two men who had forced their way in their home looming over you menacingly.

Perhaps you should’ve just gone straight to bed.

Kuko hadn’t made it far.

As headstrong as he was even he couldn’t deny the pain his body was in, his wounds aching as they hadn’t closed properly. He was normally far more respectful of the healers back at the temple but he was in a hurry, needing to report back to his father his findings immediately. He didn’t want to bring those hunting him to you either, it would be bad news as they seemed to have no issue slaughtering innocents left and right. He felt like there was a boulder in his gut that was slowing his movements, his body not able to move as nimbly until he’s finally forced to stop. He doesn’t know how far he’s gotten nor how much time has passed but he’s bleeding again.

It’s either turn back towards your hut or continue forward in hopes of finding another healer.

Something else is pulling him back towards you, like you’d attached strings to his body and were pulling at him to come back behind the curtain. Kuko bit his tongue hard to keep himself conscious, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and then starting the journey back to your home. He’d have to prepare a proper apology for impeding on you so late at night but the sudden sense of urgency that rushed through his body stopped his needless worrying, walking forward with a huff.

He didn’t know why but he had to get back to you.

Now.

Your head is pounding as you lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, hands raising to cover your head to prevent further damage to your skull. You’d be in more pain if you were fully conscious but you’re only partially aware of what’s happening to you, your house in shambles around you. The place had been torn apart, the bloody bandages from earlier thrown across the room as they had been found during a ‘mandatory search’. The table you had been sitting at was flipped over and jars of needed herbs were tossed on the floor, even worse, now your own blood was staining the floor.

You’re fighting to stay awake, eyes scanning the floor for anything to defend yourself with but it was a fruitless endeavor. Your hands were meant to heal not harm, you weren’t suited for anything like this, and your assailants were clearly far more skilled than the average soldier. You wished you could say you put up a better fight than the pathetic mess that actually happened but there wasn’t time for self-pity.

“Hey you bastards! Didn’t hurt your pride enough after round one?”

Ninja’s are supposed to be quiet, stealthy, but Kuko had burst onto the scene like some sort of hero in a play. You’re wide-eyed as you spot the shock of red hair but your vision is so blurry and your brain so scrambled you’re worried you’re just hallucinating him. Your eyes met his for a second, your pleading reaching Kuko’s heart immediately; if he hadn’t been so carefully trained his entire life, he thinks his anger might’ve exploded in that moment, causing him to do something he’d regret. To see someone who had treated him with kindness, without asking any extra questions about who he was, someone who was likely innocent and had no means of defending themselves…

It pissed him off.

You hear the sound of skin on skin, some cackling that you’re sure is your ninja savior despite how high-pitched and wicked it sounded, and what you hope isn’t your house getting torn into even more pieces. Your face was buried in your arms as you were growing more exhausted, knowing the moon must be high in the sky at this point. You should’ve been in bed hours ago. Who would help your patients tomorrow when you could hardly help yourself? You weakly managed to bring your head up to survey the room around you but it’s suddenly silent, not a soul in sight until Kuko re-enters your home from the front door.

“Should I ask where you took them or just rely on blind faith?”

“You don’t have to blindly trust me but those assholes got what they deserved,” Kuko scoffed as he walked over to you, lifting you effortlessly so he could bring you over to your little bed (which had stayed clear of any debris). “Shit, I’m tired.”

Your eyes widened as Kuko lowered the mask so he could breathe a little easier, his face so smooth except for a scar on the underside of his chin. You can see a few more scars peeking out from the tears in his clothes but you don’t allow your mind to wander. Kuko is currently questioning why he just revealed his face in front of a civilian without thinking twice about the consequences, knowing this was yet another rule he had broken. There was a strict code all ninja were expected to follow and he’d already broken at least two rules, even more because he actually found himself liking you. He would be lucky if he got out of this unscathed by his father, not that he gave a damn what that shitty old man had to say to him, but he’d rather make his life easier.

“You’re bleeding… your wound from before reopened, didn’t it? I need to help you…”

Kuko shied away from your touch but you can see he’s actively fighting his body’s natural response to protect himself, freezing in place to allow you to place a hand on his shoulder. You kept your movements deliberately slow to prove you meant no harm, not like you could even consider raising a hand to him after he had saved you from who knows what kind of fate. He had half a mind to argue with you about trying to help him when you were injured yourself but he was too tired to even argue, his dad would’ve laughed if he heard that one.

“We should sleep…” After you had replaced his bandages with clean one you sent an exasperated look to your home, disliking the fact it was so messy despite none of it being your fault.

“We can just clean tomorrow.” Kuko flopped himself unceremoniously onto the floor beside your bed, hands behind his head like a pillow with his legs crossed; he winced a bit at the impact but otherwise gave no indication he was uncomfortable. You’re about to question his decision to sleep directly beside you but there really didn’t seem to be enough room in your home with a table flipped over in the middle of it, so it was easier to just settle yourself in beside him and hope he wasn’t secretly some pervert.  

Wait, did he say we?

“So, you’re going to stay this time?” You turned on your side to look at him, “I could use some extra help in the woods tomorrow… It shouldn’t be too rough a walk with your injuries… but I guess it’s selfish of me to ask a stranger to just help me out with my own chores…”

“Hmph. I guess I can help.” Kuko’s eyes are closed yet he’s unable to sleep, peaking one open when he hears you shuffling around next to him in an attempt to get comfortable. Even with a bruise forming on your temple you’re as stunning as ever, the young ninja biting his lip as he wondered how much of this was a sense of duty and how much was just him indulging his personal desires.

“Thank you…” You finally whispered out as sleep overcame you.

Kuko is left speechless, cheeks warm as he tries to settle his rapidly beating heart.

[writingsbychlo]

rapp-ed around your heart (01)

word count; 19,578

summary; stan and Irene have decided that mitch needs. a little downtime, and he’s pretty moody about it, until you put him in his place.

notes; this is the beginning of what is going to be a six part series, all based on the road. I really hope you guys like it, it’s about healing, and finding purpose.

warnings; none, really. mitch is moody, but what’s new?

The South East

“Whatever it is that you think I did, I am taking zero responsibility for it until you have proof.” Mitch announced his innocence loudly from the second he stepped into the office, and Hurley simply glared at him from where he was sitting on the other side of the desk, and he flopped himself down until the comfortable chair to wait for his latest bollocking over disobeying orders, being reckless, having an attitude, or whatever it was that he was about to be reamed for.

“That fact that you immediately have to defend yourself is a reason enough for me to be doubtful in your conduct, Agent Rapp.” He recognised that voice, rolling his eyes a little bit letting his lips flick up at the sides in amusement as the stoic face of his superior came into view via video chat, and Hurley leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Irene.” He nodded, eyes flicking between the pair, and brows shooting up as he waited. “So, why exactly am I here?”

“You’ve been working with us for almost three years now, and you’ve been working yourself hard since the incident in Ibiza, which would make it four years since you last gave yourself a break.” His heart clenched a little at the painful memories that flashed behind his eyes, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had once been, and he crossed his own arms, raising his shoulders and dropping them back down in a shrug.

“Your point?”

“The point is, Mitch, that we look after our agents. You are taking a break. A long one.” He let out a groan at the woman’s words, beginning to spew denial and complaints from the second he had processed the words, wiping a hand over his face and shaking his head in denial, but the slamming of an open palm down onto the table was enough to silence him as he looked up at Stan.

“Listen, this isn’t entirely altruistic. We aren’t sending you on a holiday to let you have fun in the sun in the Bahamas. You are going to wear yourself out, and one day you will fuck up in the field and that will cost lives of other agents, and a hell of a lot of civilians.” He huffed, glaring at his superiors in silence, and Stan smirked a little at finally getting him to shut up. “You don’t have anything to live for, Rapp.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Hurley held his hands up, and Irene rubbed her forehead with a sigh, mumbling under her breath about the subtlety of men. “What we mean, Mitch, is that you’ve spent so long throwing everything into work and revenge, that you don’t have anything anymore. Work is important to you, I get it, but it can’t be everything. You have to have something that motivates you, something that inspires you, makes you wake up in the morning, or else you aren’t fighting for anything.”

“What happened to ‘never let it get personal’, huh?” His words were pointed in sharp and bitter tone at Stan, a vicious stab at him for the tactic he’d once used to whip him into shape emotionally, and the older man didn’t even flinch.

“That was when you were unstable, but you’re one of our best agents now, and you train the recruits. When your anger was out of control, anything you latched onto becomes your primary focus, but now you have nothing to guide your direction or give you a purpose.” She sighed, and he slumped back into the chair a little bit.

“What, and you think two weeks in Europe is going to make me a new person?” He snorted at the thought, picturing himself in a striped shirt and a beret, with a curled moustache when he came back and an affection for pastries.

“Actually, you’re staying in the country. Start you up easy, and all.”

He wasn’t sure what to say anymore, and he didn’t see the point. Life felt drained of colour and entirely pointless, the only things that gave him joy were knowing that he was keeping others like him safe, people who hadn’t yet undergone the life-changing trauma he had getting a chance to skip over it and enjoy a life he didn’t get to have.

“My niece, she’s going on a little road trip. I talked to her, and she’s agreed to take you along with her.” Mitch was entirely unaware that Stan even had any family, but he dropped that in favour of searching his brain for an excuse not to go in a cramped car with a complete stranger, but he felt like he was short-circuiting, mind coming up a total blank as he was filled with white noise. The smirk Stan’s face was enough to piss him off even more, but he bit his tongue and waited to be dismissed, he could always come up with an excuse between now and then. “You’d better go and pack, she’ll be here in an hour.”

“Wait, what? And you didn’t think to tell me until now?” He seethed, standing in his seat, before watching between the two higher-ups who were staring him down for his outburst. “Can I be dismissed, or what?”

“Yeah, you can go, but you better be ready by the time she gets here.” He was already out the door before Stan had even finished speaking, the words being shouted after him as he left the door wide open, spite to make him stand up and close it himself, and he heard it slam shut only a second later. He enjoyed the easy recruits all but jumped out of his way in fear as he stormed across the courtyard, stomping up the outside stairs to the top floor of the dormitories, the floor that had been reserved for him and him only, the single perk of staying on to advise being getting to have his own space rent-free, even if it was a little small and cramped, with every little privacy from the group of people constantly moving through in the lower floors.

There was a bag under his bed, the one he usually used when being sent away on an assignment, and he dragged it out with his foot, dumping it on the bed. Opening up various drawers and cabinets, he shoved a collection of jeans and shorts, jumpers and t-shirts into a bag, enough clothes for about two weeks, and enough underwear and socks to match.

Laying out a fresh set of clothes for himself, he stripped off the ones he was currently wearing, dumping them into the laundry basket that he could throw into the washer before leaving, and have one of the interns clean up and leave outside his door for when he returned.

The water took a good minute or two to warm up, and so he busied himself with swiping his toiletries and cosmetics into the bag too, before stepping into the shower and letting out a low groan as the scalding water washed over his skin as he stepped under it. Dirt and grime washed away into the drain as he thought about the training he’d been taking part in during the day, cuts and grazes along his back stinging at the temperature, but washing away every ounce of blood and dirt, cleaning the wounds for him as he washed himself off.

His hair was washed too, until the water was running clean as his muscles had eased, the tension slipping away with every deep breath he took. Not only did he let the physical dirt drain away, but he allowed the water to take away the impurities he felt in his chest too, the way his angry moods and stubborn hatred for the idea of leaving were carried away into the drain.

The fear, however, that stuck around. The overwhelming anxiety that came just at the thought of not being busy. Mitch liked to work himself into the ground, he wanted to be sure that he woke up in the morning with things to get straight into, and he wanted to be so tired at the end of the night that he didn’t have time to lay awake in the dark.

It was no longer the flashes of Katrina on the beach that came up behind his eyes, that was a pain he had acknowledged and processed, breaking it down until he was able to move on, but he was haunted by a life he never got to live. When he was younger, he was such high aspirations, and he mounted for a future he would never get. He missed the thrill of playing lacrosse, or the excitement he got at the idea of experiencing something new, or the adrenaline rush from forcing himself to do something that gave him a little scare.

Everything felt numb now, like the world was in black and white, surrounding him with the buzzing of white noise as everything fell away into the background. It felt blurry, and out of focus, and he felt disassociated from his life, and so when the chance came around for him to fall right into that void and get lost in his insecurities, he wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity.

When the water finally began to run cold, he switched it off, stepping out and towelling himself dry, before picking up his watch and checking the time. Fastening the device onto his wrist, he had just enough time to run through his laundry and grab a snack before leaving, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of the smoked ham and aged cheese sitting in the main fridge, a roll that he could place it within, and his mouth salivated a little in excitement. Tugging black jeans up his legs and a forest green henley over his head, he was grateful for how tidy his space already was, before grabbing at his favourite sneakers and tugging them onto his feet. It was a little cold for his liking, and so he swiped the first jacket he could from his closet, a slightly too big leather jacket with only one rip in it, that could easily be hidden if he didn’t stick his thumb through it, and it was enough for him.

He grabbed at the laundry bag, swinging it over his shoulder before peeking his head out of the door, and flagging down the first recruit he could find. Dropping the bag into his arms, he smirked as the man looked between it and himself, scurrying away seconds later with the strict instructions to wash it, dry it, fold it and leave it outside his door for when he came back.

He patted himself down, checking for keys wallet and his phone, doing a final sweep to check he had everything, before he was setting off, locking the apartment as he went. His first call was the kitchen, stopping in to make the sandwich he had promised himself, before taking a bite out of it and hiking his bag up onto his shoulder, and making his way back through the cabin.

Rounding the large property, he could see a vehicle already pulled up, a storage box on top that was open, and his supervisor was leaning against the back of the large car, a cigarette in his mouth as he listened to a woman just out of his view chat excitedly, but he could hear his voice as he made his way over. It was clearly one of the CIA vehicles, one he was so used to riding along in, and he momentarily wondered about how you’d gained permission for it, but the almost unnoticeable patched-up holes along the side and scratches told him that it was a decommissioned one that had seen better days before being shot at during field days.

The closer he got, the more he could see. Slightly shorter than he was, the girl was wearing a flowy dress and a cardigan, ankle boots covering her feet and sunglasses sitting up in her hair as she showed off a large map to her uncle, one that he didn’t care for, but he seemed to grab both of their attentions as he shuffled over to them.

“Rapp, just on time.” Stan broke, his voice already going colder just from interacting with him instead of the girl he called family, and Mitch simply rolled his eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Uncle Stan.” The girl was far too positive for his liking, especially while he was still angered over the entire situation, but he tried to be polite, shaking her hand when she offered it out to him, and gave him her name. She moved a little, trying to show him the large map as she attempted to redirect it so that he could see, and he dropped his bag to the floor, finishing his sandwich and sticking his hands into his pockets. “I got some places marked out, but is there anywhere in particular that you want to see, Mitch?”

“I couldn't care less where we go.” Your smile faltered a little, and he almost felt guilty for it, but you were shrugging him off only a second later, and he had to admit to himself that he was more than eager just to get on with this trip so that he could get it over with, the soon you both got on the road would be the sooner he could call this ridiculous holiday off, and the sooner he could come home and get back to his regularly scheduled timetable of running himself into the ground to avoid his thoughts.

Stan took the initiative to pick up his bag and place it in the open compartment above the car, before licking it shut tightly and double-checking it was all sealed up, before the older man was leaning down to press a fatherly kiss to the top of your head as you folded the map away. “You ready to go, Mitch?”

Your tone was a little cooler as you spoke to him, but still held no venom, and he simply nodded, making his way over to the passenger seat, all of the windows along the car blacked out, and he at least appreciated that privacy. Letting himself in, he stared right ahead, ignoring the scenery as he slumped into the plush leather and strapped himself in, crossing his arms and glaring at Stan as the man put out his cigarette and beaming sardonically at him from outside the windshield.

You were only seconds behind, hopping up into the vehicle with more pep than he thought possible, and getting yourself settled, before starting up the car, and dragging him away from the life he knew, on a ridiculous attempt to fix what he already knew to be broken, in his opinion, beyond repair.

It was an uncomfortable silence for at least an hour, only the humming you made along to the playlist that was ringing out softly within the car, your tapping at the steering wheel with your fingers to particularly catchy beats, and the attempts at small talk you’d given up on somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes into your journey. He was upset, and frustrated, and absolutely did not ‘want to play the number plate game’ with you.

Eventually, his curiosity took over, and he turned to face you, sighing a little for emphasis in what seemed more like a huff, and you glanced over at him from your place behind the wheel.

“So where exactly are we going first?”

“Oh! We are off to Fort Monroe!” You were still too peppy for his liking, and he hummed discontentedly under his breath, before nodding along and twisting to stare back out of the window, this time, looking dead ahead instead of to the side. He almost felt like a petulant teenager, slumped in his seat with a frown, arms crossed and being unnecessarily huffy, the same exact attitude he’d had all those years ago when his parents had sent him away to boarding school. “I was thinking we could go to the beach, maybe?”

He grunted at the thought, and you chuckled under your breath a little, glancing back in your mirrors and slowing for only a second to allow another driver to overtake you, before your attention was back on him.

“Not up for the beach? That’s cool. There’s a restaurant I kinda’ wanted to try, but we can do anything, really. I don’t have much of a plan for it. Just some ideas. I marked out some places around here that seemed cool.”

“A road trip of Virginia, how thrilling.” He rolled his eyes a little, his anger only bubbling up further at the cheery laugh you let out in response, looking over at him.

“I mean, I thought we’d start out easy for today. We’re already halfway through the day, it wasn’t worth getting anything big.” You shrugged, and he turned to look at you for only a second, cringing at the next song that came up, and he did not hesitate in lifting his finger to press skip on your phone as it sat in its stand on the dashboard. “We move down towards Florida over the next week or so, taking it in a slow build, getting to the road so much can be hard on your stomach, but the drives are divided up pretty nicely.”

“Florida?” You grinned, nodding at him, taking your eyes over the road for only a second. “How long is this road trip?”

You glanced over him curiously, your confusion at his statement melting away only a second later, before you were grinning in a way that made his stomach flip with nerves, unsure as to whether he actually wanted to know that answer. Instead of answering him, you reached over to the glove box with one hand, opening it up as the drawer fell open into his lap, and you fished through to find the old-fashioned and large paper map, slamming the storage compartment closed again and dropping the paper onto his legs. “Uncle Stan didn’t tell you the whole truth, did he?”

He grabbed at it, unfolding the large paper. He expected a zoomed-in version of the coast you were along, maybe a little more, but it was a map of the entire country, a red marker drawn along, lines connecting at least thirty dots along the way, and his jaw dropped, trying to add up in his head how long this trip would be, simply with driving and minimal stay time, and he realised he was looking at months of travel here.

“What the fuck?” You jumped a little at his outburst, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the paper before him. “This is one of those road trip things, right around the fuckin’ country! It’s going to cost a fortune in motels alone!”

You shook your head at him as he folded it down enough that it could sit flat, and you jabbed your thumb over your shoulder, causing him to turn and follow the motion with his sight. “We aren’t staying in that many motels.”

He almost felt stupid for how he’d missed it before, but the backseat was flattened down with a mattress laying over from the trunk to reaching almost all the way up to the seats, blankets and covers mixed with pillows, general amenities sitting around the edges, the largest portable phone charger Mitch had ever seen sitting on the floor, and he felt like the tiniest bit of hope he’d had toward this trip just flew out of the window, and at this point, he wasn’t even on control of the complaints that began to pour from his lips. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

“I found out this fucking morning that I have to traipse around the goddamn country with a fucking stranger, and now you’re telling me I have to sleep in the back of a car, doing shit I don’t want to do and sending my money in places I don’t want to go to, all for what? Nothing, that’s what.” He ran a hand over his face, a highly agitated noise leaving him. “Fuck this.”

You let out your own growl, the first sound of anything other than pure glee that you had released, the car jerking roughly as you spun off onto the side of the road, throwing the vehicle into park and turning to him. His eyes widened a little with the fire burning in your glare as you turned to look at him, sunny expression turned sour.

You weren’t willing to let him ruin your trip, this venture meant the world to you, you had been planning and saving up for more years than you could count.

“Listen, Rapp.” You hissed the name out at him, with more venom than even your uncle ever had, and he felt a little intimidated at the sudden rage that had spiked up within you. “This is my road trip. I planned it, I initiated it, I bought the car and saved for fuel, and did all the research. You think it was my dream to have a tag-along stranger jump on board? No. Especially not one with the general etiquette skills of a fucking pebble and the manners of an ex-con with a diagnosis in psychopathy and anti-social disorder.”

He opened his mouth to retort, feeling almost a little intimidated, shrinking back into his seat as you took a deep and steadying breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to reign yourself in, before you were looking at him again, before he could even think of anything to say in reply.

“Look, my uncle told me he wanted someone to come with me, someone who needed a little peace and quiet, and something to brighten up an otherwise dismal life. He told me about you, and I happened to think that this road trip would be just as good for you as it will be for me, so I said yes to you coming along. I’m not scared of my uncle, Mitch, and I’m not scared of Irene either. They aren’t my goddamn superiors, and I’m not letting you ruin this for me, so if you keep up this killjoy attitude then I will put you on a bus home, I don’t care where we are in the country. Got it?”

He gaped a little, before swallowing thickly, nodding his head, and letting himself acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up within him. Logically, he knew it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one that insisted he go on holiday, you weren’t the one that set him up with months of duty, and you certainly weren’t the one that had caused him a lifetime and a half’s worth of pain all crammed into the last decade, and yet he had been taking it out on you. Clearing his mind, he cleared his throat, mumbling an apology which you were quick to accept, before setting the car back off into motion.

It was awkward and tense, and he knew he’d already fucked it all up, and the two of you had barely been on the road for two hours, but he forced himself to relax a little, listening intently to the song playing, and relaxing in the seat. Uncrossing his arms and letting them sit in his lap instead, his head pressed into the rest behind his head, and he watched the scenery sliding by.

“So, that terrifying glare and scary, angry brow thing is genetics, then?”

You looked at him for only a second, easing up a little from your rigid pose, and laughed lightly under your breath, shrugging a single shoulder. “He taught me everything I know.”

He felt a little better at having broken the silence, and instead opted to open the map back up, studying the stops carefully, as you pulled off of the highway at the first sign guiding you towards ‘Fort Monroe’.

To say Virginia had been an uncomfortable situation of you both would be the understatement of the century. Small talk was fractured and strained, and you had no idea what you were supposed to talk to him about, and you had figured he was feeling the same way about you. Instead, you had busied yourself with mumbled about the different things you were seeing as you wandered around the Nation exhibit of Fort Monroe, and then moved on to dinner.

There was no longer the looming tension of the argument waiting to break out, and in his defence, you could see that he was at least trying to be better, but the pair of you hadn't exactly hit the ground running when you’d started out, and it was having a staggering impact on everything else that was going on for the pair of you.

He had opted to sleep upfront, leaning the passenger seat as far back as it could go, and accepting the blanket and pillow you’d offered him, shuffling every few minutes for almost an hour before he had finally settled in his seat, and you were grateful for the reprieve, before finally being able to fall asleep yourself.

Sleeping that first night seemed to hit that refresh button for you both, because when you woke up, he had already been awake, but he’d mumbled a ‘good morning’ to you when he heard you stirring, actually putting down his phone to turn around and look at you when you sat up. He had shown you the google maps version of the guide that he’d downloaded for you both, to add a little extra navigation, and inform you about roadblocks on your routes, and other such information that you may need.

After sorting yourself out, a change of clothes, and finding a rest stop to freshen up at, you were back on the road, a far more positive atmosphere shared between you both as you set off on the fairly short drive which covered the rest of the distance between where you’d stopped in Virginia, and making your way down towards North Carolina. Your first stop was Crabtree Falls, wanting to take a little break as you got yourselves used to the amount of driving you were going to be doing, and opting to check out the Museum of Natural Sciences to stretch your legs out and get a little bit of fresh air before you were on your way again.

When you arrived, it wasn’t overly busy, no crowds and queues and masses of tourists, and you were grateful for the reprieve, and the fountain of things to talk about with the man beside you so that conversation didn’t have to feel as forced.

The second you stepped inside, you were in awe, glancing up at the beautiful glass dome that the floors all circled around, balconies overlooking from the upper layers, and you took a minute to appreciate the ornate workings of the decorations that were up and about, before a nudge on your arm caught your attention.

Turning to look at the man beside you, his hands were tucked into his pocket, but his elbow was brushing yours, before he nodded his head stiffly towards one of the signs before you both. “They have live animals. Wanna’ check out the snakes?”

“Only if we can look at the big whale skeleton first.”

He nodded his head, the two of you gathering your tickets, and grabbing a map to guide yourself around, unfolding it before the both of you and pointing out the various things you wanted to check out. You did not take it in order, wandering from the top of the museum to the bottom, several times, neglecting to follow the numerical path that had been laid out, but choosing to simply follow the numbers of things you wanted to look at each time you got curious about someone else.

The uneasiness between you both had fallen away somewhere between the butterfly enclosure and the ‘Mountain Cove’ exhibit. The feeling that you were just waiting to blow up at him again the second he began acting out of line once again had faded away, and the borderline silence he had allowed you to suffer through when you’d first arrived had changed into small comments and subtle attempts at conversations that varied between the attractions you saw, all dependent on the sights you were seeing, and just how much it caught his attention, but you certainly weren't complaining.

By the time you’d left, you had a large plushie of a dinosaur under your arm, and a smile on your face, and Mitch seemed fractionally less tense than you had seen him since this trip had begun.

You had a simple dinner, the two of you simply choosing to get by on a drive-thru meal that you could eat as you began the trip down to Georgia, a truck stop in mind that you could use for stopping at, as well as sleeping and cleaning yourselves up some more. Your third day had a dismal start, one of your tires popping from a particularly rough pothole in the road, the impact giving you a headache from the jerk of the car before you’d pulled over to the side of the road, and hours had passed before someone had been out to change your spare tire.

You’d had to pull out the mattress and blankets from the back of the car, balancing it on the top of the vehicle to stop it getting dirty just to be able to get to your tools and more than half of the day had passed you by before you were getting back on the road again, your plans ruined and your mood on the floor, at least five hours worth of driving still ahead of you, and the day had been lost entirely by the time you’d been able to get everything back to the way it should be.

It was quiet as you drove along, nothing cheering you up as you stared out at the open roads, feeling dismal about what had already gone wrong in your trip, the entire outlook making it feel like this was going to be the prediction for the whole trip, and despite your best efforts to be positive, the bad day had put a downer on your mood.

“So, tell me what this playlist is about? Because there’s songs from the sixties, and songs that are on the radio now, all mixed in together, and I have yet to hear the same song twice.” You were a little startled at him initiating the conversation, and you could hear the strain in his voice at actively starting a conversation that had no particular end place in sight, but you realised he was doing it purely for the purpose of cheering you up, and so your lips flicked up at the sides as you glanced at him. “It just seems wildly random to me.”

“Well, a lot of different genres and moods went into it.” He raised a brow at you to continue, seeming genuinely interested in the explanation, and you let out a little laugh at the thought. “Well, firstly you have your typical road trip songs. You know the ones. ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’..”

“Yeah? How about ‘Mr. Blue Sky’, and ‘Road To Nowhere’?”

“Of course!” You were a little happier now, this interaction with him being far more positive than he had been so far, and you rolled your shoulders, forcing yourself to relax as he hummed under his breath. “Then, there were just some of my favourites thrown in, like ‘Brandy’ by ‘Looking Glass’, and the ones that are just typical summer songs. ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Budapest’ by George Ezra, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He mocked, and you couldn't contain your grin as you looked over at him, that being the first piece of sarcasm that hadn't been a somewhat cruel jab towards you.

“Then, there are some of those songs that you can’t help but tap your feet and sing along to. You have to have a couple.” He sighed, muttered a ‘suppose so’, but there was no heat behind it, and quiet took over you both once again, the next song seeming to click into place as a way to end the conversation, and you cleared your throat a little, refocusing on the road. Maybe four more songs, five if you’d stopped paying attention at any point, had passed by before he spoke again, and you waited patiently as he formed his words.

“So.. there’s a random place on the map in Georgia, where are we going tomorrow?”

“There’s this little town called ‘Covington’, and I want to check it out.” He made a vague sound of confirmation, before he was pulling out his phone from his pocket a little awkwardly, and tapping his fingers at the keyboard on the screen, seeming to focus on whatever he was seeing for a good few minutes.

“It looks kinda’ boring. It’s just a regular town, I don’t see the big deal.”

“What, so you’ve never seen The Vampire Diaries?” You gasped falsely, and he clicked off his phone, shuffling a little in his seat and shaking his head, a motion you caught out of the corner of your eye.

“The what?”

“Oh, you need to add it to your list. It’s one of my favourite shows, and this is where it was filmed!” You were filled with enthusiasm just at the idea of getting to talk about it, and he huffed out in amusement at the idea of it.

“Vampires in Georgia, I thought it was supposed to be Transylvania? Isn’t it a bit too sunny in Georgia.” You felt your mind a little blown at how much there was to unpack in such a simple sentence, giggling as you sifted through your thoughts.

“First of all, it’s filmed in Georgia, but based in Virginia. There’s a lot you don’t know about modern vampires.” You had a falsely judgmental tone at his words, feeling your chest warm at the chuckle you managed to elicit from him.

“You’d better fill me on all this vampire shit before we get there, then. You only have a few hours, better get to it.”

Seeing the town in all its glory was the kind of experience that never could have been described to you, and if it had been, it would be nowhere near enough to amount to the way you felt. You weren’t sure how many photos you’d taken, your phone spending the majority of its time on the camera as you took a range of selfies and photos of everything you were seeing. You saw everything you possibly could, leaving Mitch to sit with a coffee in the gardens for an hour as you took the ‘Vampire Stalkers’ tour, before you’d wandered around Covington Square and pointed out different landmarks to him.

He had even offered to take a picture of you in front of the clock tower, and while he wasn’t exactly the most enthusiastic photographer, you were grateful for the offer, because it had felt like an olive branch between you both. You had described scenes and painted pictures for hi as best you could, and despite knowing you were going a little overboard with your passion, he had glazed over a little, no longer responding but simply choosing to nod and hum occasionally, throwing in the kind of replies that were able to pass for any kind of agreement, and you had fizzled out soon after that.

Instead, you’d offered to show him the Mystic Grill, the restaurant catching his attention from the second food had been mentioned, and he perked up a little as he agreed. You took pictures in front of the signs, forcing him to get into a picture with you, and he scowled at the camera as you sat on either side of the neon sign, before getting yourselves inside and settled at a table.

It was exactly how you’d pictured it would be, rustic and peaceful, a country theme that seemed aged and well worn, but you adored it no matter what, and the menu only made you fall in love with the whole town a little more. By the time you’d made your way back to the car and found your next place to stop, changing into your pyjamas and taking turns to change for bed in privacy as the other watched the car, you had made a promise to yourself that you would be visiting again one day, no matter what.

You were settled in the back, and he was once again slouched in his passenger seat, but this time when you’d said goodnight, he made a tired sound of acknowledgement in response, instead of the usual icy silence, before rolling onto his other side and settling into his sleep.

Georgia marked a change in the dynamic between you both, nothing extreme, but the two of you had shifted from mildly irritated passengers to mere acquaintances, and the overwhelming feeling that you’d made a mistake by agreeing to take him on was washing away, to be replaced with indifferent emotions aimed to him, and hope for your journey. This trip meant the world yo you, and you couldn't deny that you’d struggled to fall asleep the last few nights as sadness and fear crept up on you that it was all going to be ruined if you couldn't enjoy a single moment of it without Mitch putting a negative fog down on every happy moment you had.

But, he was showing a change. He was trying, he was putting in the effort to at least not be the complete and utter twat you’d taken him for when you’d first met him, and the man who had done nothing but complain for two straight hours before you’d put him in his place was showing no signs of reemerging. As long as he kept his negativity and pessimism in check, then you could find it within yourself to simply enjoy your trip the way you would alone, as though his presence wasn’t going to be one to affect you, he was simply another presence on the road with you, like the SatNav or the music.

You spent a second day in Georgia, unable to have chosen between the Natural Science museum, the Aquarium, and the botanical gardens. It had been an earlier morning, and for the first time so far, you had woken up before Mitch had. He seemed equally as surprised, pleasantly enjoying the fact that for the first time in God knows how long that he’d slept in. No alarms, danger, or blaring horns for training. He didn’t have to be up to do sprints around the woods or an intensive workout that would leave his entire body screaming out in agony by the end of the day, only to have a full day forced upon him next time.

He voices such things to you in the streetside coffee and pastry shop that you’d stopped at for your brunch, after having a walk around the botanical gardens, something that had been more than soothing for the both of you.

The flowers, the sights, the ornate placements and decorations, with buzzing bees and butterflies, a beautiful eco-system that was preserved and protected within a society that often allowed nature to be turfed over for infrastructure, and it was one of the most beautiful sights that you had ever seen. You touched soft petals, and felt your face heat up when a butterfly had landed on your forehead, your eyes crossing as you tried to look at it and cheeks aching from your grin, and through every thought of his own, without being asked, Mitch had snapped a picture for you so that you could preserve the moment forever, and sent it to your phone only a second after it had flown away.

Filling up on warm pastries and taking a to-go cup of herbal iced tea with you as you chose to walk through the little town centre and window shop, before making your way to the aquarium, while he offered to take over on the driving from you, for the fair few hours drive down to one of the favourited sunny spots in Florida, before you had found the building, and all thoughts about anything other than seeing the pretty fish had slipped from the front of your mind. Only after the two of you had entered, paper band sealed around your wrists and told to follow the green arrows, did he divulge to you that he had never actually been to an aquarium before, a fact that made you positively outraged, in a way that made his lips flick up at the sides a little as he watched you dramatically mourn for his loss of fish observations.

You had taken your time, showing him everything and telling him just what you loved about the scenes, the way the lower tunnels lit up with blue as fish swam overhead, and the way the larger ones like stingrays and little sharks would come right up to the glass, getting you closer to the predators than you ever could be, and yet being entirely safe, as the rehabilitated animals continued with their life, enjoying the safety of their home. You allowed him to take pictures, and made him take one himself, standing with his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood in the middle of the tunnel that changed colours, the first one being his usual stoic and emotionless expression.

The second shot, though, was one that you sent to yourself just to be sure that it wouldn't be deleted from existence, because it was far too precious to lose. In the second, the tunnel was between blue and red, a deep purple shade with a pink edge was cast over the man, making shadows appear across his face, the look of awe standing out as he stared up, the largest shark they had swimming directly overhead in the picture as he stared up at it, and at that moment, there was nothing in his life, except the astonishment at the creature that had passed over him.

He thanked you when you handed him his phone back, nodding his thanks to you as he paused on the second, not bothering to spend too much time focusing it, but not deleting it either, closing his camera app and holding the phone tightly in his hand. He was more conversational for the rest of the trip, the photograph unlocking something within him, and he managed to ask you simple questions about why you liked museums so much, and if you liked zoos too, as well as reading the information plaques aloud each time you reached one. The night had rolled around sooner than you would have thought, and the two of you grabbed ice cream cones from a small cart nearby, eating them slowly as you walked towards the car.

“I always wanted to swim with dolphins, y’know.” He shrugged a little, taking a bite out of the mint ice cream on his cone, and you hummed as you licked at the simple chocolate one you had while considering your options.

“You’re only, like, twenty-five. You still have time to do cool things like swim with dolphins.”

He glanced over at you, pausing in his steps for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might open up, that he would reply to you, let you in a little bit so that you could try and find a way to help him heal, but he simply shrugged, and your hopes caved in on yourself, a little quiet falling between you both again as those walls that had been slowly crumbling down seemed to build back up to twice the height they had originally been, keeping you sealed out in the cold from ever getting know him. Once he had finished his ice cream, he was reaching around behind himself, rubbing at his lower back carefully, but his features never even changed, though it wasn’t the first time you’d picked up on it.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been messing with your back all day, trying to stretch all subtle-like.”

“Backache.” The word was grunted out, and you sighed a little at the cold tone he had resorted back to, feeling like for every step forward you took with him, you were taking three steps back.

“Well, for the past three nights you’ve been sleeping in a car seat. Why don’t you take it easy, lay down while I drive?” He shook his head as the two of you approached the vehicle, and you rounded to the driver’s side, leaning against the door and giving him a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ve dealt with worse pains before.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to now.” It was a standoff between you both, and you reached out to place a hand on his arm, before deciding against his, swerving around him to tap on the tinted windows of the backseat. “Why don’t you lie down on the back, and I’ll drive. I’ll take it real slow, so you don’t get thrown about.”

“You’ll wake me up when we get there?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated at your assent for only a second, before he was dipping his head a little, and making his way around to the trunk of the car, allowing you to open it up with the car keys. Kicking off his shoes, he took them with him, his body flopping into the mound of cushions and pillows, and eyes already sliding shut the second he had, the door closing behind him as you got into the front. As promised, you drove slow, moving the pair of you down towards Florida, the night passing you by as you listened to your music so quietly that it wouldn't bother him, and in you slow pace, you were able to avoid disturbing him, the quiet tosses and turns he made causing you to glance back every so often.

Sometimes he was on the verge of being awake, blinking his eyes open a little in the darkness, to take in his surroundings, before adjusting his positions and laying back down. The darkness of the sky had been blossoming into pale pastel shades by the time you saw the entry signs for Orlando, and you could have cried with gratefulness as the journey came towards an end.

You were tired, having stopped once or twice to bolt into somewhere and grab a coffee, but you needed sleep, and as soon as the offer for such a thing had made itself known, you were more than happy to take it. The hotel felt like a godsend, the morning crawling on in as the sun rose up in early hours, the sun still a while off actually breaching the horizon, but the darkness of the sky was beginning to lighten at the horizon, and you were desperate to get some sleep.

You went to check in first, locking the car securely for the man, before registering a room with two beds for you both, opening the box atop the car to pull out your smaller bag, just enough clothes and provisions to get you through the morning until you were both awake again, before you were opening the back of the car once again. You weren’t sure how to wake him, perfectly aware of how jumpy he might be, and if he accidentally lashed out in shock, there would be a chance he wouldn't forgive himself for it, even if you told him it was okay.

Settling to place a hand on his ankle, you shook him gently, and while he awoke with a startled jump, he soon gathered where he was, letting out a little groan as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, and shaking off his slumber.

“How long?”

“About seven hours.” His eyes widened a little as he looked at you, before shuffling forwards to swing his legs over the edge of the car, and he tied his shoes on a little as he took in the area around him. “I booked us in already, and got stuff, but I’m pretty tired, so I’m about ready to crash.”

He simply nodded, reaching out to take your bag from your shoulder and swinging it up onto his own, before grabbing the keys from your hand and locking up the car. The pair of you shuffled through the lobby, one groggy and one exhausted, before leaning against the walls of the elevator as you found your room. You simply dropped the bag on the floor, kicking off your shoes as he pulled the curtains closed, before sealing the door and crashing onto your separate beds.

It was a restless sleep, your mind not even dreaming as you refreshed yourself from the long day followed by a long drive, the time taking its toll on you, and you slept in later than breakfast and almost missed lunch, but you felt like a brand new person when you woke. You weren’t sore or achy, and the crabby mood you’d felt creeping up on yourself before the rest was washed away, and the excitement of knowing that you had the rest of today, plus at least two more days without any long drives was something you were more than excited for, and you stretched yourself out across the mattress, stretching out your limbs properly for what felt like the first time in years, before flopping back onto the bed with a cheerful smile.

The hours had ticked by, the sun rising high up in the sky and you were grateful for the thick curtains that were keeping out the rays out once the heat had begun to rise. It was hot, practically scorching, and you knew it would have woken you up - if not burned you - through the window had they been left open.

“Good afternoon.”

You jumped with a little squeal, completely forgetting where were and who with for one small and blissful moment, and you sat yourself up on the bed, embarrassment flushing you when snapped to sit up straight, and he snorted out a laugh that he muffled behind his hands when he watched you do so. His hair was still dripping wet, but he had changed his clothes, and the rest of your bags had been brought in from the car too. “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

“I slept well and went to the gym, of my own accord, with no interruptions. The last time that happened, I was a new college graduate.” His brightened expression faltered a little as he thought about the memories flashing behind his eyes, before he was stepping towards a covered dish on the counter. “I woke up a while ago, and I made it down in time for breakfast. I brought you some fruit and a croissant.”

“You’re like a whole new person today.”

He swallowed thickly, but quickly handed it over to you as you brushed messy bedhead hair away from your face and to take the dish from him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress as he settled on his own. “You did something nice for me, so I’m returning the favour.” You weren’t too sure how to reply, and you didn’t want him to ever feel obligated to you, but you did want him to be able to trust you with small and simple things, and so you were willing to let it slide, this time.

“I’m going to take it easy today, but you’re free to do whatever you want, take the car, or anything.” You waved a hand at him as you uncovered the bowl of freshly chopped fruit and a pastry, choosing to begin picking at the slices of apples and strawberries first.

“What are you going to do?”

“Oh, some laundry, I only brought a couple of weeks worth of clothes, so when we get somewhere with laundry rooms, I’m going to take advantage. Wash the bedsheets, too, keep everything fresh and cosy.” You bit into the flaky treat, catching the crumbs first before they fell away into the bedding. “I also want to take a nice bath. A hot bath. Washing up at rest stations hasn’t been all that amazing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head a little instead, and mumbling an agreement to you for your statement. “I’ll hang around and help out. It’ll be good to have a day without having to do anything, we can get on with things tomorrow.”

You studied him for a second, the look shared between you both sparking something that almost felt like an understanding, like a bond of something other than hostility or impassive civilship, before offering him a genuine smile. “Wanna’ take all the washing down, and then watch a movie later?”

“Can I pick the film?”

You scowled at his bargain, but nodded, and he wore a victorious look, and you finished up your food, the rumbling in your stomach settling down as you found yourself satisfied. He sat with you while you ate, and the silence wasn’t exactly easy going but it wasn’t the same tension that made you squirm in your seat as you thought of anything to just break the silence or get away from.

He helped you strip down the sheets in the car, and fill your bag, carrying everything into the hotel and setting it all off in the laundry. You plugged the portable charger in to spark back up, and you had your bath, spending a long time soaking in the hot water and letting your fears slip away.

It wasn’t exactly the beginning you had hoped for, or the trip you had dreamed of for so long in your mind, but this was different. You didn’t mind company, in fact, when you thought about it, it was probably nice that you weren’t going to spend so long alone, and getting to share the experience with anyone as you travelled around the country was better than being lonely, but every time Mitch shut you out and built his walls back up when they crumbled even the tiniest amount mad you feel colder and more isolated than if you’d never had a companion with you on the journey at all.

He was an enigma, sometimes he seemed almost like he was happy to be there, and other time, you and the trip seemed to be the bane of his existence, and you couldn't place exactly what it was you were doing that made him open up each time, or what it was you did that made him lock right back up tight.

By the time you’d snuggled down into the bedding, he’d managed to set up the TV and somehow found Netflix, logging himself in as he scrolled the options, a bag of popcorn out on his chest that you really weren’t sure where it was from, but he nodded his head in the direction of the fresh stack of laundry ready to be taken out to the car, and you found your own bag sitting on top. Leaning across to swipe it from where it was, you were quick to rip it open, the salty-sweet smell of freshly buttered popcorn drifting up into the air.

He had somehow managed to find ‘The Vampire Diaries’, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looked at you, lips twisted up in a smirk when he hit play, a blush flooding your cheeks as the opening scene came on, and as much as you adored the program, even you could admit that it was cheesy. You marathoned the episodes back to back, listening to his little commentary when he fell into his comfort zone a little more, and it wasn’t until late into the night that the two of you fell asleep, the ‘still watching?’ question still glaring on the screen when you stirred in the morning.

Your first full and energy-filled day in Orlando was bringing you a bouncy and peppy mood, that was surprisingly not shot down the second the man awoke, he simply groaned as he looked at you pulling open the curtains, before twisting to bury his head under his pillow and flipping you off.

“C’mon, Mitch, get up!” You sat on the edge of his bed, and he nudged his leg out in an attempt to push you from the mattress as he mumbled something indiscernible into the bedding. “I had an idea today for something that I think you’ll be into..”

Your voice was higher, almost singing the words out as you tried to tempt him, and he removed the pillow, huffing before turning to look at you, and while his face was entirely blank. You’d like to think you were able to understand the subtle twitches of his lips and eyebrows by now, and that he was a little less unreadable than he liked people to think, and so you were not perturbed by what may seem angry on the surface.

“I was thinking we could go to the Kennedy space centre for the day. It seems like something you’d want to do.” He sighed through his nose, but didn’t take his gaze away from your own, and you smiled a little, shuffling up the edge of the bed a little closer to him when he sat up in his pillows, wiping at his face and blinking into the morning light, yet to speak. “Was I right?”

He looked away, rolling his eyes a little, but a small smile twisted on his lips instead of the frown you’d been expected. “Yes.”

“Ha! I feel successful!” He snorted at your statement, using his knee to push you off the edge of the bed so that he could stand up, walking straight past you and into the bathroom, the door slamming shut before you had time to start telling him about all the cool things you’d read about online, but you didn’t care, because the two of you were already off to a good start, and you were determined to keep that same vibe going for the rest of the day.

Turned out he was taking a shower, a fact you discovered after lingering around for a good five minutes before he returned, and instead, you busied yourself with getting ready, the warmer weather of being sown somewhere with warmer temperatures, and you settled on wearing a lighter sundress, standing in front of the mirror in the room to braid your air when he finally emerged again. He had shaved, neatening up the messy scruff that had begun to grow out on his chin until it was in a more tidy scattering of hair along his jaw. One hand held the towel that was wrapped around his waist while the other grabbed at a pile of clothes, and you pointedly avoided looking at him in the reflection of the mirror as you focused on the movements of your fingers.

When he came back out, a black t-shirt that only reached halfway down his biceps, and sticking to him with bits of water, and a pair of blue jean shorts on his legs that brushed just above his knees, a jacket hanging over his arm for later in the night.

“Wow, you actually look like you’re on holiday, first time yet.” He rolled his eyes, dropping his head a little and running the towel over his head until it was merely damp instead of dripping wet. When he stood back up, strands were spiking up in random directions, the look of it making you laugh at the thought of it drying that way, and you tried to hide the noise, but he raised his brows at your snigger anyway. “Your hair is sticking up in all random directions.”

“Doesn’t matter, nobody cares, anyway.”

“Yeah, at the farm, maybe!” You stepped towards him, swinging your own plaited hair over your shoulder and out of your way. “When you’re all sweaty and covered in dirt after ten minutes, but you’re on your own time now. What if you want to take a picture and you look like you’ve been electrocuted?”

He simply sighed, but you could sense the amusement that washed over him as he caved, running a palm along the top of his head to try and push it flat, making it look like it had been badly gelled, and you placed your hands on your hips, biting on your lower lip to avoid the cringe you wanted to make at the sight.

“Can I just-” You took a little step forwards, and he hesitated, brows pulling together a little, and shoulders tensing up, but he gave you a single stiff nod and allowed you to enter his personal space. Reaching up a hand, you tried to style the slightly wet strands a little bit, quiffing them up just enough to look good while taming all the strays, and when you were appeased, you pulled your fingers away, humming to yourself with pride.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You stepped away from him, moving across the room to grab your purse, and he was holding the door open by the time you were ready to go.

“I’ll drive. I’m feeling a lot better.” You fished through your bag for the keys, dropping them in his hand as you both reached the elevator, and in return, he handed you the room key to seal away in your bag.

“You think they have those big floppy hats anywhere? I want one.”

“What are you talking about?” He pushed the lobby button, leaning against the wall and pushing his hands into his pockets, before fixing you with a quizzical look when you turned to face him.

“You know, those big sun hats. That celebrities where so they don’t get recognised.”

He shook his head, fixing you with a heatless glare as he pursed his lips. “If you buy and wear one of those hats, I will go home and face your uncle’s wrath of my own accord. I am not being seen with you in one of those.” You gaped at him, before letting your chuckle best through, and he had the decency to grin a little to himself at his own jab.

“They’re stylish!”

“They’re hideous is what they are.”

He mumbled his response as the door dinged open, rebuking your insistence on the ‘staple fashion’ item as the bickering continued on, all the way through the parking lot until you reached the vehicle, and he held the door open for you as you climbed in, slamming it shut on your argument that if it was good enough for Sarah Jessica Parker in ‘Sex and the City’, then it was good enough for you. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having any of it, ignoring you with a smirk as he started up the car, and cranking the music up so loud you winced, just to drown you out.

You took the hint, choosing to change the topic, hoping to keep him engaged in what was by far the longest conversation the two of you had participated in, in which he was actively talking with you in return. All of your conversations before this day had been mostly you talking to him, spilling every thought that passed over your mind just to stop the awkwardness from creeping back in, but today, he was chatting back. Whether it was playful arguments, subtle insults with no hostility behind them, or even just chit chat, he was taking an interest, and then, it felt like the two of you might be able to enjoy your trip, if it was anything like this.

From the second you had pulled up, he had been just as gentlemanly, and you swore you saw a flash of excitement pass over his eyes as the two of you bought your tickets, the key to unlocking him a little bit and tempting him out to being less than just a robot for the CIA may lie in his hobbies and interests, should you somehow be able to coerce him into acknowledging that he has some.

Your first stop had been to plan your visit, the two of you leaning over the touch screens as you read about each attraction, checking out a site map and trying to choose your way around. You had signed up for a bus tour, one that still had two hours until your allotted space, and so you busied yourself with the ‘Heroes and Legends’ exhibit, and the ‘Race to the Moon - Apollo Centre’, he had actually looked happy, willingly allowing you to take pictures for him in front of various things, and even standing beside you in a few as you forced him to take pictures with you when you found a good shot in front of the fountains and the rockets.

Sending them both off to your uncle as proof that you hadn't dropped him off at a bus station and fled, he soon replied, asking if you were sure that was really Mitch, or whether you’d just grabbed another shaggy and mood stray man along the road by mistake. He had let out a full-bellied laugh at the comment when you’d shown it to him, before tucking your phone back into your pocket.

The whole day seemed to fly by too fast, the bus tour crowding the two of you in, but neither of you had to drive so you were more than happy, and you had wrestled yourselves to the seats at the back, each of you by a window for maximum enjoyment of the experience, before you’d finished the day by reading everything you could, and exploring every miniature exhibit in the ‘Now and Next’ section, being completely awestruck by words you didn’t understand.

By the time you left, you both had a NASA themed jumper, as well as a shirt to send home for Stan, and a sticker decal to put onto your laptop, your purchases happily swinging by your side in a paper bag with the logo printed across the front as you made your way back to the hotel room.

The temperature had dropped a little, and you were in half a mind to get your jumper out and put it on, but you wanted to wash it first, unsure of how many people had already touched it before buying it. Your conundrum was brought to an end when warm fabric was draped over your shoulders anyway, his fingers brushing yours as he reached down to take the bag from your hold so that you could push your hands through the jacket he had given you.

His other hand was tucked in his pocket, eyes fixed ahead of himself as you walked the distance back to your car, but you nudged him with your elbow a little once it was wrapped around you and you were warm, giving him your friendliest and gentlest smile a little when he was forced to turn his sights on you.

“I think there might yet be hope for us to be friends, Rapp.”

“Lucky me.” He muttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, but he lifted his elbow from where it was folded against his body, allowing you to loop your own arm through his and move a little closer to him as you fell into step beside one another.

It was on your final day in Florida that everything seemed to go wrong, blowing up in your face for reasons that you didn’t even understand.

You were red in the face and entirely exasperated as the two of you stood in the carpark, your hands on your hips and his arms folded over his chest as you stared one another down. The air between you both was all but crackling with rage and unresolved anger, and you weren’t even sure where it was all coming from.

You didn’t exactly have the whole day, already having repacked the car and sorted out the sleeping zone in the back, just trying to decide what to do with the small handful of hours that you had to fill while it was too hot to begin a seven and a half-hour drive to Alabama for your next pitstop. He had no ideas what he wanted to do, absolutely none, saying he was just happy to do whatever, and so you’d suggested taking a trip to Daytona Beach, which seemed to be where his issue had started. Somehow, the simple suggestions had deteriorated into a row, people staring at you both as they walked past to get to their cars.

“We’re not going to the fucking beach!”

He was all but seething, and you wanted to stomp your foot like a petulant child in your frustration, but resisted the urge. “You’re not in charge here!”

“I don’t care, I’ve done all the stupid shit you wanted to do every other day!” You felt a little wounded at the insinuation, and you were sure that the hurt had flicked over your face because he seemed to flinch back a little bit at your change, before you stepped back, swallowing thickly and pressing the keys into his hand. He looked between the metal bundle in his palm and you, silence taking up between you both where raised voices had been only seconds before.

“Fine, you don’t have to go to the beach, but I am. Just drop me off and then go and do whatever you want to do for the day, and come back for me a few hours later.”

He gave you a look that made you want to scream, bursting out with rage, but you bit your tongue and resisted the urge. “What, do you expect me to just drop you off at a random beach and leave you there all day? Alone, when anything could happen?”

“Oh, relax. I won’t let Stan have your head if anything happens, you won’t get the blame for my mess.” It was his time to look a little hurt as you spat the words at him, before pulling open the passenger seat door, hopping up yourself and peering back at him. “Just take me to the beach, Mitch, I’ll be fine.”

He groaned, stomping around to his side of the car and making sure to slam the door extra-aggressively as he got in. This time when he turned the music up, it was to purposefully ensure neither of you would speak, and you fished through your bag to check that you had anything in order to busy yourself from the ruined atmosphere between you both. What had been so positive only a day ago felt like it had been shredded and burnt, and the everlasting anger that cooked you from within felt like it had been extinguished, only to come back as a raging inferno today.

When you finally saw the palm trees melt away into white sand and blue sea, you felt your nerves ease a little, relaxing into the car seat as he pulled up he car, fingers clenching the steering wheel, and you opened the door, hopping out and releasing a happy sigh at the smell of salt, fried food, and the sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“Are you really doing this?”

“Yep. You can just pick me up in a few hours. Call me when you’re back at this spot, and I’ll come and meet you.” With that, you slammed the door on him, not looking back as you began your journey down toward one of the little beach huts and stalls to find a bathroom to change in, and somewhere to buy an ice cream. It took a minute before you heard the car pull away, and you were certain he’d spent that time cursing you out and muttering insults about you that only he could hear, but you didn't care, because you wanted to sunbathe, and so you were damn well going to.

With an ice pop in one hand, and your bag in the other, you wandered across the sand barefoot, shoes in your bag with your clothes and towel tucked under your arm, freshly shining with suncream and a swimsuit clad on your body as you wiggled your toes in the soft grains and searched for somewhere to set yourself up. A couple of stray beach umbrellas were still free, and so you were more than happy to claim one of them, making your way over as you wicked at the drips of juice escaping from the frozen treat, and dumping your things down into the sand gleefully.

Rolling out your towel under the shade, you straightened it out before turning and sitting down on it as you finished up the lolly in your hand and sealed the wooden stick into the front pouch of your bag to dispose of later. You replaced it with your sunglasses and your phone, sitting comfortably on the cotton and looking out around yourself at the people surrounding you, and snapping some photos of the beautiful sight that you could print off and frame when you eventually got home.

The flapping of another towel, spraying a little sand up onto your legs beside you made you turn to look, a pair of legs in your view as somebody came to sit beside you, and you squinted at the owner of said appendages as they sat down beside you. Your eyes widened a little bit as a recognisable mop of hair came into sight, and you pushed your glasses up onto the top of the head as he sat down, tugging his shirt up and over his head to discard of it to sit with the rest of his things, a pair of swimming trunks he absolutely wasn’t wearing before on his legs, and they seemed somewhat familiar to you.

“Did you just buy those?”

You reached out to poke at his thigh, the silky blue material shifting under your touch, and he granted at the feeling. “I didn’t own any.”

You merely nodded, waiting for him to expand, but he didn’t and so you placed your glasses back on and settled down onto your back, feeling a little better at not being alone, even if his mood was sour, but it wasn’t going to affect your experience, not even a little bit. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I couldn't just leave you at the beach alone. It’s not safe.”

You turned your head to look at him, finding his legs stretched out before him, hands resting behind his body to support himself, and staring out with a distant look on his face as he watched the waves meet the shore, coming in all the way from the horizon. Something about the rasp in his voice and the tuned out look on his face made you feel a little guilty, and you popped yourself up on your elbows. “It’s just a beach, Mitch, I’ll be totally fine.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I was at a beach I got shot.” The realisation of his hatred of the location made a chilling coldness shoot along your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but he shrugged, giving you a glance out of the side of your eyes. “But, you want to go to the beach, and I don’t want to leave you, so we’re at the beach.”

You swallowed thickly, looking at him for a second, and watching as he took a deep and steadying breath. Sitting up a little more, you moved around the pole of the umbrella, perching yourself half on his towel and half in the sand, your thigh pressing to his as you seated yourself next to him. “Thank you.”

You whispered the words, but he turned to look at you, giving you a nod of the head as he watched you, whiskey brown eyes staring into your own as the tension between you both melted away. Rather than pushing your body away from his own, he shifted his arm to rest behind you back for support, before snapping his attention over to his bag. “I brought you something.”

“Yeah?”

“To say sorry for shouting at you. I’m not great at apologies, but I figured it would do the trick.” He produced a slightly crumpled but still pretty woven hat from his bag, and you laughed loudly at the sight as he reached up to push it down onto your head, the rim brushing his hair when you both settled back to look out at the ocean. The floppy hat on your head made you heart race the gesture making you warm up from the inside out. “I’m not going in the ocean.”

“That’s okay, you can stay with the stuff when I swim later.” He hummed under his breath, but twitched a little at the idea, and you pulled your legs up to your chest, reaching back across for your phone. “I’ll stay where you can see me, so you know nothing’s wrong.”

“Thank you.” You barely caught his response, and you weren’t sure what he was thanking you for; whether it was the simple act, the acknowledgement of his trauma, your forgiveness for his behaviour, or perhaps all three, but you just gave him a smile in response, the two of you finding a harmony one again as the waters of you friendship settled back out from the pebbles you’d thrown only a couple of hours prior.

He never moved from the towel, but he did watch you swim in the ocean, and he took pictures with you, and he looked after your stuff. He reminded you to reapply your sunscreen, and he laughed and joked with you after the two of you had moved on from the weight of your makeup conversation, and you decided that today had been even better than yesterday, because while you thought you’d been knocked down and your almost-friendship had ended, he had helped you up and confirmed that there was definitely hope between the two of you, there was a friendship forming.

After you had finished on the beach, you used one of the outdoor showers to wash yourself off of sand and salt, dipping back into a stall to change back into a simple sundress, treasuring the new hat on top of your head as he watched you, before you’d set off on enjoying the falling temperature before setting off on your journey. You had hotdogs for lunch, and walked along the pier, and even stopped in at some of the little gift shops, your arm linked with his as you went along, before finally getting to the car as the sun began to lower on the horizon, and the cool breeze was enough to make you shiver, the car no longer feeling like you were sitting inside an oven when you got in, but instead being a comfortable warmth to travel during the night in.

You weren’t too sure when it had happened, but you were certain that you had fallen asleep sometime after passing the signs for splitting off for ‘Lake City’, and you had woken up with a blanket tucked over your body that you were certain hadn't been there before. You stirred a little bit, a whine escaping you before you could stop it as you felt your muscles stretching and joints popping a little.

Mitch turned to look at you, his face neutral, a pleasant change to the scowl you were used to seeing, and the simple change had smoothed out the creases along the sides of his mouth, or the wrinkles on his forehead from the constant look of anger and irritation he had when he was at the farm with your uncle, and your hand itched with the urge to reach up and brush a finger over the place where the lines had once been.

“Sleep well?”

“I did, actually.” You snuggled down into the blanket a little more, muffling your yawn as you tried to shake yourself awake, despite the darkness still occupying the sky. “How long was I out? Do you want me to take over?”

“About four hours, there’s not long to go now. I was going to wake you soon anyway, I wanted to stop off for some coffee, and there’s a place up ahead. Is that okay?” You simply nodded in reply, and he returned it with a curt gesture of his own, before looking back to the open road, and reading at the signs that flashed by. You were more than happy to adjust into your morning, finding yourself taking a little longer to wake up than usual, because for the first time on this whole trip, you had felt truly comfortable in the presence of the man beside you.

No anxiety or anger was taking over, you were pushing down frustrations at his attitude and biting your tongue to stop from lashing out, but you were instead relaxed and happy, eyes fluttering a little as you tried to keep yourself away, rubbing at your eyes and sitting up a little straighter as the car began to slow down, pulling off onto a side-lane as the neon lights of a diner and truckstop just behind the trees made its presence well known to anyone travelling on the highway.

Finding a parking space was easy, one a decent distance away from everyone else, the car safe at the back as you hopped out, and you were begrudging to shed the blanket from your shoulder as the cooler air swept over you, arms wrapping around yourself instead. It wasn’t actually all that cold, but going from the coziness of sleep haze and blanket wrapped tenderness, to standing on your feet when you’re barely stable in the middle of a truck stop car park was a different story.

“Cold?”

The car flashed as it locked beside you, and you nodded a little, but forced yourself to peel your arms down from being wrapped around your body to sit at your sides. “I’ll be fine once we get inside, I was all snuggly under my blanket. Thanks for that, by the way.”

He offered you a flick of his lips in return, patting his pockets for his wallet and finding it in the front pocket of his hoodie, adding the car keys to it, before making his way over to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, you were curled in a little closer to his body, as he guided you across the lot, eyes peering around suspiciously as he took in everyone and everything he saw, from the placement of the car to the smokers standing outside and blowing clouds of smoke up into the air, his CIA training never letting up as he instinctively observed and memorised the area as best he could.

You were correct, the second you got inside the doors of the diner, warm air washed over you, and you let out a hum of contentment at the feeling, his arm dropping from around you as the two of you found a booth, settling in on opposite sides of it. You had a large mug of black coffee in your hands only minutes later, a large order of a breakfast meal at the all-hours kitchen felt like a god-send, and you blew the steam from the top of your mug as you watched Mitch stir creamer into his mug.

“So, can I ask a question?”

“I would love it if you did.” He rose a curious eyebrow at you, and you rose a single shoulder in a slightly embarrassed shrug, before taking a sip of the warm drink and letting out an inaudible moan into the drink, already feeling rejuvenated just from the first taste. “You don’t talk to me much, it would be nice to become more like friends on this trip instead of strangers.”

He ducked his head a little, and you worried you’d crossed a line, but when he looked up, he almost looked happy, and you brightened up yourself just at the sight. A smile from Mitch Rapp felt rare, but you were receiving one right now, and you were basking in the glory of it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend. I’d really like that.”

“So, what was your question?”

“I wanted to know what the fuck we’re doing in Alabama.” His words were blunt, and you couldn't help the sharp laugh that left you, his eyes twinkling at the sight, before he was chugging almost half of the contents of his mug in one.

“It’s more of a stop off, really, to stretch our legs. Otherwise it was, like, a ten-hour drive, and I tried to split up most of the long drives as much as I could.” You shrugged, swilling your drink a little before taking another long sip of it. “I found this store that sells lost luggage, and you never know what kind of cool things we could find there. It’s like thrift shopping but even more obscure shit than thrift shops have.”

“Sounds fun.”

“We can get back on the road by later this evening, but I was also thinking we could stop somewhere and get a drink if we have time. There’s a bar that’s called ‘Rattlesnake Saloon’, I think, and it seemed fun. It’s only like a four-hour drive from where we’ll be down to New Orleans, so we can get it all done by the end of today.”

He agreed silently, and you took that as your queue to stop your internal monologue, the progress the two of you were making was too much to risk him backing out of if you overwhelmed him by talking non-stop just to fill the silence, but it seemed that he had different ideas; “How do I not know about you? I’ve been around for years, now.”

“I don’t come around so much. Uncle Stan comes to see me every Sunday for dinner, he updates me on everything, he just doesn’t like me hanging around over on your side, because if he’s off with trainees, he doesn’t really trust them not to get distracted.” It was a vague answer, but Mitch nodded like he understood, and made sure that he caught your eye as he tried to find his next words.

“For the record, if you did ever want to come around, I would like to see you.” He offered a smile, and you grinned into your mug, thanking the waitress as she placed down the meals before you both, cutlery soon following it, and your stomach rumbled slightly as the smell of the delicious plateful reached your senses. “So, when you say he updates you on everything, what kind of things do you know?”

“Oh, do you mean about the CIA black ops divisions, the Orion team specifically, or are you asking what I know about you?” His eyes widened a little, before he let out a deep breath, nodding his head with a small laugh that was masked by his sigh. “You’re surprised.”

“No, I’m relieved. I didn’t want to have to hide anything from you.”

You weren’t too sure how to reply, so instead you busied yourself with your hashbrown, the two of you falling into casual conversation between bites of food as you ate, opting to change the conversation to something a little more lighthearted, you were the main focus of the conversation, no matter how much you tried, you didn’t get through to him, he didn’t share much about his past, the things you didn’t know, but that was okay, because he was asking about you, and at least putting the effort in to get to know you. Another two cups of coffee were in your system before the sun was beginning to make its presence known, and the two of you decided that the rest of the journey was due to be completed. You took on the drive this time, and while you had insisted that it was okay for him to sleep, he opted against it, snoozing a little bit keeping up the conversation.

It seemed that the heavier weights of conversation had come crashing back over you both once you were back on the roads, dust kicking up behind you both as you continued on your adventure. The lost luggage shop was fun, the two of you seeming to shift through everything in that store, the hours passing far more quickly than you could control. You left with a pair of wireless and soundproof headphones, and a purple plaid jacket that Mitch said made you look like a lumberjack, and if it was three sizes too big and super baggy? Well, that was just even better.

He himself left with a new sports watch, his last having bee smashed by a recruit during a fight, and a pair of sunglasses with blue-tinted lenses that made him look like he was something from an intense spy film, the scowl and his body language only adding to it, and you couldn't help the picture you took as he did, showing it to him, and he’d quickly agreed with you.

As it turned out, despite how long you’d spent in the little store, you did have time for one drink at the bar you’d found, taking pictures of everything from the drinks to the cowboy style to the creative cliff top overhead, staring up at it in awe as you watched the nature from above grow over the top. You grabbed a quick bite to eat, to soak up any excess alcohol, before the two of you were on the road once again, with you excitedly singing along to the music as you drove, and Mitch poking fun at your driving, the light-hearted humour carrying you all the way along on the shorter drive towards Louisiana.

It was the asscrack of dawn by the time the two of you arrived in New Orleans, having swapped over on the driving a good two or three times, despite the tiny drive that it was in actuality, but you’d stopped a couple of times along the way at several little gift shops, and once to take a walk along the edge of a sweet little lake just outside of New Orleans, Lake Pontchartrain, the two of you watching as the sun came up over the water glittering across the slightly rippled surface, and you had found yourself once again tucked under the man’s arm, this tom daring to loop your own around his waist as you walked, and when you stopped, only detaching when you got back to the car for the final piece of the journey.

You had to admit, it was nice for you too, to be able to make a friend that understood everything about your life. A friend who understood that sometimes you would temporarily drop off the radar, and why you lived in the middle of nowhere, and why social media wasn’t exactly a big thing for you. It was nice to feel understood, and helping Mitch rediscover who he was was without the pain and suffering of his past and his job, was helping you to discover who you really were, and helping you work through some of your own issues.

You’d always been the most important thing in your uncle’s life and so he’d done his best at any given time to make sure you got everything out of life, but being so closed off from the world had made it difficult for you to get to know the social nuances of other people, and so you and Mitch were a learning experience for one another at the same time.

Your hotel was on Bourbon Street, because as you had so eloquently pointed out mid-yawn when he’d asked you ‘if you were serious’, you had confirmed that yes, you were very serious, because there was no what that you were going to come to New Orleans and not stay on Bourbon Street. You checked in and found your two beds, barrel even remembering to pull the curtains closed as you both made it through your nighttime routines, scrubbing at your teeth with minty toothpaste and changing into pyjamas, before crashing on your beds without another word other than some mumbled goodnights.

It was your alarm clock that woke both of you up, a shrill ringing that you’d forgotten you’d set and hadn't turned down, wanting to get up and have a shower before you got on with your day, and the sleepy man had glared at you from his bed, rolling over and face the wall as you snickered behind your hand. Sweet-scented shampoo and a very bubbly soap had refreshed you entirely, snapping you into your morning and giving you the wakeup call you had so desperately desired.

He was still in bed when you emerged, your clothes already on and simple skincare for the day completed, and your hair was still damp, but you weren’t willing to let the day slip away. “Mitch, get up!”

“No.” You barely heard him, before he was pulling the covers up and over his head as you yanked open the curtains, and he groaned out at the motion. You made your way over, standing on the edge of his bed and kicking at his legs from above, to which he promptly kicked back. “Go away, I thought this was supposed to be holiday hours.”

“It is a holiday! But I only have this room for two more nights, which means we only have three days in New Orleans, and I want to get some of the signature pastries from Café Du Monde before they sell out of the freshest batch!” You teased, and his messy bedhead poked up above the blankets.

“Pastries?”

“Freshly baked beignets.” You said, a sing-songy tone to your voice, and he sat up a little further, noticing that you’d caught his attention. “Little fried fritters, in powdered sugar. You can get coffee too, and fruits.”

He stared at you for a long minute, before seeming to crack, and he shook his head. “Fine, let me shower first, and I want a lie in tomorrow.”

“Deal!”

You watched him go, the bathroom door slamming at the water started up, and it took him about as long in the shower as it id for you to dry your hair, and the second he’d pulled on a change of clothes and prepared himself alongside you, he ruffled his hair dry on a towel, tipping it towards you for you to sort the strands, and he gave you a false glare for the giggle you let out at the action. Sifting your finger through his hair, you flattened them down into a reasonably decent smile, but not without making a comment about how he needed a haircut, to which he promptly shut down as he pushed you a little out of the way and headed to the door.

It was a short walk to the café, a warm breeze washing over your legs, even though it had barely reached midday yet, and as promised, you had been served the freshest of the pastries that the two of you could get, Two portions between you both, and several cups of coffee, you also split a fruit bowl, nibbling on the juicy treats as you chatted. You bought a box of the coffee to send to your uncle, taking it home forever as you collected it up, as well as a couple of the mugs that caught your eye, and Mitch had even purchased one for himself, brushing his finger over the lettering and the logo on the front as he purchased his first real souvenir of the trip.

Your next stop was the post office, the man shooting you a quizzical look as you went, browsing through boxes and shipping labels, before gathering up all the supplies that you needed.

“I figured we could box up and mail all out souvenirs and purchases back to my Uncle, and he can collect them up and keep them safe, so that they don’t all get lost or damaged in the car, and we don’t get overwhelmed.”

“If I send something back to be kept safe, your uncle will give it to the recruits to play soccer with before we get back.” He teased helping you carry all of the shipping items you’d purchased out of the door and back onto the street, the sun now shining down warm and clear from above.

“Send it all in my name. If we box it all up together, it gives me an excuse to see you once all this is finished, when we get home.” You spoke the words earnestly as you made your way back to the hotel, to spend the better part of a few hours wrapping, labelling and shipping it all, and he turned to look at you, face a little unreadable.

“You don’t need an excuse.” You were a little frozen once again, the lines between comradery and friendship between you both becoming blurred, but you still weren’t sure where you lay with it, and then his face split into a teasing look. “Unless I’m sick of you by then. I may have to hide when I hear you’re coming over.”

“Oh, shut it.” You jabbed your elbow at his side, his training making it easy for him to duck and swerve out of the way in time, which only resulted in a large grin taking place on his face. “By the end of all this, you’re going to be missing me like crazy. You’ll be calling and begging me to come and hang out with you.”

“Sure thing.”

You had just about made it in time for the post office, the woman a little perturbed at not being able to close up fifteen minutes early, but you’d left a healthy tip in the labelled jar beside the counter for her, knowing that the number of boxes labelled ‘delicate’ to all be shipped a good few states over was a hassle for her, but she completed it without complaint, and you couldn't have been more grateful.

It felt like a task taken off of your plate, leaving you both with a worry and stress-free evening to spend in New Orleans, quickly settling on getting the full experience, and going for a few drinks at a jazz and blues bar. Neither of you had to drive, and so you were able to indulge in a few more drinks than you had so far, your hotel only a short walk from the bar you’d chosen.

Bourbon Street by night was alive with energy, buzzing with excitement and thrill, and you could feel the atmosphere lifting you up onto their level, the idea of people getting to live here and experience it everyday making you prickle with a little jealousy, but you knew it was only as special to you now because you’d never experienced it before, that it was a rarity and something to be treasured, not envied.

The buildings were a mix of modern and ancient, still holding their beautiful French architectural designs with the balconies and the stylings of their decorations, but being lit up with neon signs that gave the entire road an ethereal kind of colourful glow. You felt pulled in every direction, not wanting to miss a single thing, and the pictures you took with the bright backdrop had been breathtaking. Blues and pinks and yellows, all glittering from signs above and around you, the kind of vibe that felt surreal while you experienced it, and made you wonder whether it was all just a dream when you thought about it later that night, laying in bed as your heart still raced.

New Orleans was beautiful, and your second day had only been more fun.

“I have a plan, Mitch!”

“You promised me a lie in!” He growled, and you took a seat on the floor beside his bed, placing your arms across the mattress and balancing your chin atop them, waiting for him to surface from the disturbance of the covers when you did so, a small giggle on your lips when you felt him shuffle, before glaring at you when his eyes finally met your own.

“I did give you a lie-in! It’s midday!”

He huffed, reaching out for his phone on the nightstand and almost smacking you in the head with it when he reached back, barely being able to duck in time, and from the look on his face, you couldn’t decide whether or not he'd done it on purpose. As though he hadn't believed you, his eyes widened as he checked the time to see that you weren’t lying to him, a few minutes fast twelve, officially making it the afternoon, and he groaned under his breath, running a hand over his face.

“Do you want to sleep longer?”

He gave you a pointed look, as though to say ‘duh’ without actually speaking the words, and you offered him a small smile, ducking your head again when he shifted to put his phone back down, placing his head on his pillow and closing his eyes once again, shutting you out in silence. “Give me, like, another hour and a half.”

“That’s cool, I’ll come back and get you later, we can go for dinner!”

You shuffled away from the bed, backing away across the floor as you took your hands from the mattress, standing up again and brushing off your pants of the dust and dirt it had collected when you’d sat down. A hand locked around your wrist, honey-brown eyes peering up at you, narrowed and curious. “Where are you going?”

“I want to go and check out all the places they filmed any and all scenes that had a Mikaelson in.”

“Another TV show tour?” He mumbled, letting out a low breath as you nodded at him excitedly.

“I would almost be surprised that you hadn't seen ‘The Originals’, but you haven’t watched ‘The Vampire Diaries’ either, so I’ll let you off.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, hugging his pillow a little closer to his chest, his cheek pressed into it.

“Vampires aren’t my thing. Plots always suck.”

“Woman don’t watch the shows for the pl-” You paused, looking at the cheeky flick of his lips as you gasped. “Did you just make a vampire pun?”

“Yep.”

“It’s like I’m meeting a whole new person.” His eyelids shifted a little, and you could’ve sworn he’d actually rolled his eyes at you with his eyes closed, which isn’t something you would have put past him.

“Give me another half an hour, then, and I’ll come with you.” He sighed, turning away from you and waving a hand at the curtains you’d opened as his face scrunched up, and you closed them once again, the fabric barely doing anything to hide the light in the room that was coming from the bright sun sitting high in the sky.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to.” He mumbled, and you nodded your head, taking a seat beside his legs on the end of his bed when he shifted them to the side and dragged the covers out of the way, letting you sit and wait for him as he snoozed a while longer, and you took the time to go through the list of places you wanted to visit. While you were well aware that not all of the filming was actually done in New Orleans, there were definitely a handful of places that you could see, and you were all but exploding with anticipation at the chance to do so. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

He sounded like he was barely present for the question, somewhere between this land and a dreamscape, but you turned to look at him anyway, despite knowing he wouldn't be looking back. “No plan, just figured we could go with the flow, or whatever.”

“We could go check out the ‘LaLaurie Mansion’, could be fun.” You gasped, staring at him in pure shock, and he cracked a smile at your reaction, stretching a little as he rolled over. “What, you’ve never seen American Horror Story?”

He was using your own words against you, pushing himself up to sit as he blinked into the light a little, and you shook your head to clear it, before grinning at him with a smile you didn’t even want to prevent. “Looks like you do know how to have fun, after all.”

He stuck his tongue out at you childishly, retracted his leg up the bad and you weren’t quick enough to move, being sent into a pile on the floor with a yelp as you were removed from the mattress, and he hummed in victory as you lay on the ground. He stepped over you a second later, looking at you on the floor with a smirk before swiping up some clothes and his toothbrush from the bag of his toiletries on the side, and switching on the cold tap to splash some water on his face.

You were practically pulling him out of the room ten minutes later, knowing that he was purposefully dragging out everything he did, changing his shirt three times just to make you wait, and with both hands on his forearm you’d dragged him all the way to the main door of the building before releasing him when he finally stopped dragging his feet and digging his heels in, laughing at your eager desperation to get on with the day as it approached one o’clock, and you still had things to do.

Tucking yourself under his arm to keep out of the way of others on the busy street, he adjusted you a little, his hand hanging over your shoulder as you pulled up the map on your phone for you both to see, covering your own eyes, as the sunglasses he’d purchased from the luggage shop in Alabama sat on his face.

“Thanks to someone changing his outfit like a diva, we lost a whole bunch of time.” You mumbled, his laugh rumbling up beside you.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“A whole bunch of time.” You nudged him in the side with your elbow, feeling him raise his hand from your shoulder temporarily to flick your ear, and you rubbed at it absentmindedly while looking at the directions on your phone. “Figured we could walk from here to the Lafayette Cemetery, it’s only an hour's walk, but our tour isn’t until five tonight, so we can take our time and check out other stuff while we go.”

“We’re taking a tour of a cemetery?”

“Yep!” He gave you a look like you were far too cheerful about the prospect of walking around a graveyard for a while, but you purposefully ignored looking at him. “First up, St. Louis Cathedral.”

You took photos in front of the beautiful building, the sun lighting up the exterior until it almost looked as though it was glowing, and it all seemed all the more natural that it did, a blessed appearance taking over your photos. You explored that end of the French Quarter in detail; visiting a Voodoo shop, even backtracking far enough to go to ‘Boutique Du Vampyre’, taking your time going around the store, checking out everything within the colourful and quaint little gift shop, the crowded building feeling out of place in the elegant and organised streets, like you’d stepped into an entirely new place when you’d walked through the door.

You listened to music and dropped change in the cases, cups and hates of almost every street performer you came across, and tried snacks from every street vendor you reached, sharing out the treats between you both as you made your way along, stopping at any and everything that caught either of your attention. You ended up with more photos than you’d expected, leaving you with a rapidly filling camera roll, hours worth of work when you finally got home and were able to sort through them all, printing off your favourites to build into a large photo album, ensuring that you’d never forget even a single moment of the trip.

After your tour of the cemetery, learning more than you thought there was a history to be had, and getting a chilling vibe all the way through, the two of you had settled on the Delachaise Wine Bar for your dinner, sampling different glasses and sharing them out as you filled up on french fries and bread rolls, before making the slow walk back to your hotel, seeing everything once again on you return, but this time by night.

The day had passed faster than you’d expected or hoped for, and yet, it was filled with priceless memories, the late hour making everything seem entirely new and different from the ay it had in the day, everything you passed seeming like a new building, signs lit up with glowing lights and the cheery and upbeat music from the day had taken on a lower and more sensual tone, changing with the mood as the early evening turned to night, seeing you off into your hotel with a smile on you face and a head full of thoughts that you’d never forget.

“So, I did a bit of research.” You started, and he turned to look at you, lowering his phone for a second from where he’d been taking photos, his attention now on you, waiting quietly for you to continue. “Turns out, that whole iconic witch’s walk in that one episode is outside of a restaurant and bar, and it’s only a few streets over. It’s called Vacherie Restaurant, and I made us a booking.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You were waiting with bated breath, hoping you’d made the right call, your suspicions being confirmed when his face cracked with a bright smile, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Much like he had spent the entire day with you yesterday exploring the sets and shooting locations of one of your favourite TV shows, you were now doing the same for him, the two of you wandering around the end of the French Quarter you hadn't yet gotten a chance to explore, taking in everything before you. Your first stop had, of course, been the LaLaurie Mansion he’d been so excited about, the man having been the one to wake you up this morning, pulling you from one end of the bed to almost falling out of it, hands on your ankles tugging you down the mattress until you’d been giggling and kicking at him as he dodged you, prompting you to get up so you could make the most of your third day.

It was only a short walk, the two of you grabbing to-go breakfast from a little café to eat as you walked, coffee and a breakfast burrito in your system waking you up considerably as you prepared yourself for the day. Neither of you had all that much of a plan, some quick googling as you walked had done wonders, however, guiding you through the already crowded streets as you made your way towards your various destinations.

Some were closer and some were further, the two of you working to create a list of your destinations, making your day a little easier to navigate. You were due to be on the road again by tonight, already having repacked the car and checked out of your hotel, but you were armament to spend as much time soaking up the sun and walking around as you could, before you were back on the road for a long drive up to Texas.

“So, when are we booked in?”

“I figured we could go for a late lunch, before we see the house they used for the academy, since it’s down in the Garden District, and we have to head that way anyway to get back on the main road.” He nodded, before he was reaching out to you a little, holding up his phone.

“Want to take a picture with me?”

You put your own away as you agreed to the request, his arm wrapping around you as he held up the device away from you both, positioning you to be able to see the house in the background, a smile on his face as you beamed brightly at the camera and squinted at the sun.

“I used to record and photograph everything, you know. I loved it, keeping a hold of my memories and all the moments that mattered, but for the last few years, there hasn’t been anything worth remembering, so I stopped.” It was a heavy confession, and you weren’t too sure what he was expecting from you, whether he was looking for comfort, or simply to get something off of his chest, but heat crawled up his face and made his cheeks tint pink as he looked at you, waiting for a response.

Instead, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into you as his arms hung at his sides, your bodies pressed together in a hug, and you felt the way he stiffened underneath you, you laughed muffled as your shoulder pressed into his chest. It took him a minute to respond before his arms were wrapping around you lightly, holding you in return as his cheek pressed into your hair, and then, he was squeezing you like his life depended on it.

Only for a second, but he let his walls down, and then he was letting you go, breath rushing back into your lungs from where it had been squeezed from you, and his face was even redder than it had been, eyes shining a little, but he didn’t have his defensive stance or aggressive expression. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mitch.” You hooked your arm through his, immediately soothing the tension building by asking if he wanted to stop by the patisserie shop you’d passed by on your way over here, getting a whole boxful to take with you in the car to snack on as you drove across the country to your next state.

You visited the ‘Marie Laveau: House of Voodoo’, before moving on to taking a wander around the St. Louis Cemetery to look at the crypts, before going for your lunch. It had consisted of thrilled discussions about everything you had done, comparing and swapping photos as you ate, and talking about the bits that you’d personally found the most enjoying. It wasn’t just the time in New Orleans that you discussed, but you managed to force him to open up about the rest of the trip you’d taken so far, the things he had fun doing even if he hadn't been willing to admit it at the time.

With full stomachs and smiling faces, you’d piled back into the car for the first time in days, upon making the walk back to the hotel parking lot. It was almost strange, having spent so much time on your feet and using the vehicle as little as possible, opting for you to drive the small distance down to the Buckner Mansion, the final location used as you drove along, through the Warehouse District and down to the Garden District, mitch taking pictures out of the windows as you went.

After his confession, which neither of you had risked to speak of again, he seemed like he was finally accepting that it was okay for him to live his life, and to admit that he was having fun, actually wanting to take photos and record the sights he was seeing, to relive them once you’d left and gone home.

You couldn’t go inside, but you could walk around the garden, peering inside as you leaned dup to the windows, and taking pictures on the steps up to the front door, talking about all the scenes that you could specifically pinpoint, and making the most of it, before having to leave as the lower light began to fade and the night came in, ushering out the warmer temperatures as a cool night breeze came in.

You flipped a coin, deciding who would do the first half of the journey, Mitch calling heads as it came spinning back down towards your hand, and that side had been the one facing upwards at you both when you’d both studied it, the man cheering to himself, even though you insisted it wasn’t much of a prize to have to drive for several hours in the dark when he’d rather be sleeping, but he was just happy to have won something.

Houston was your next destination, hoping to reach it by the time the morning rolled around, the shift between you both in New Orleans only making you happier about the rest of your journey to come.

[tagthescullion]

Nerds

Fandom(s): Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Summary:

"Annabeth’s words had been stuck in his head from the moment Thalia had opened her eyes. ‘Either you would’ve been best friends or you would’ve strangled each other.’

The jury was still out."

Rating: T (mild swearing)

Words: 1340

AO3 link

“Hey.”

Percy dropped the shirt he was trying to fold, startled by the voice behind him. He turned towards his cabin door, searching for the owner of the voice.

It was Thalia.

It took all his self restraint to keep the surprise —and mild unease— from showing on his face.

Thalia stood proudly, her stance devoid of the awkwardness Percy felt. For a second, she reminded him of Zeus: tall, regal, not a single bit of uncertainty in her expression.

Percy struggled to come up with something to say. But he needn’t worry, Thalia didn’t wait to be invited. She strode towards his clean laundry basket, grabbing a hoodie and kneeling next to him.

He studied her as she folded. She did a surprisingly tidy job.

Thalia didn’t stop at the hoodie, though. She picked the t-shirt Percy had discarded, a pair of shorts, another orange shirt. Her hands moved methodically, with precision. Keeping her hands busy seemed to put her at ease.

“I like household chores,” she said.

It was about the last thing Percy expected her to tell him. He had imagined she’d dropped by with a message from Annabeth, or perhaps Chiron.

“Yeah, chores are… normal,” Percy replied.

“Normal,” Thalia repeated. “How eloquent.”

Percy rolled his eyes. “I mean that it’s not like the rest of what we do here. It’s ordinary, the kind of shit my mum would make me do at home.”

Thalia’s shoulders tensed. Percy berated himself. Just like Annabeth, Thalia had run away from home as a child. He didn’t know who or where Thalia’s mother was, but it was obvious ‘home’ was a sore subject.

“What the hell?”

Percy’s sympathy for the daughter of Zeus dropped a notch when he saw what she’d picked from the basket.

“Annabeth will never love you if you wear Spiderman boxers, Percy,” she chuckled.

He blushed so hard and fast he felt lightheaded. He snatched his underwear from Thalia’s stretched hand, ignoring her disgusted pout.

At least he’d made her laugh.

Truth be told, Percy had spoken like twenty words at most with Thalia since her miraculous return to the world of the living. Or well, not technically, she had never really died, right? Eh… Percy didn’t understand the details, nor was he sure Thalia herself did.

Annabeth’s words had been stuck in his head from the moment Thalia had opened her eyes. ‘Either you would’ve been best friends or you would’ve strangled each other.’

The jury was still out.

Thalia looked like she might make fun of his red cheeks, but her face turned serious all of a sudden.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she told him. Her tone had a certain degree of reluctance, but Percy was impressed that she had apologized at all. His bemusement must’ve shown for she added, “Chiron’s on a personal crusade to condition me to say sorry when I offend people.”

Percy snorted.

“Yes, I think it’s pointless too,” she admitted. She glanced at him, with a thoughtful expression on her face. “I sometimes feel like Chiron doesn’t want us in the same place at the same time.”

“He thinks we’ll cause trouble,” said Percy. “That we’ll fight and mess stuff up.”

“And he’s got Annabeth helping him,” Thalia nodded.

“He does tell Annabeth everything,” Percy huffed.

Thalia sighed. “It’s taking a toll on her, though. He’s putting too much pressure on her. She’s missed me, I get it, but she’s smothering me, trying to make sure I’m okay all the time. It’s not fair to her. She should be out there living her life with you, and Grover. Climbing that lava wall, planning capture-the-flag strategies,” she raised the basket with the folded laundry. “Giving you a hard time over your bad taste. Spiderman? Seriously? Nerd.”

“Oh, please,” Percy said. “I know you’re a Star Wars fan. It doesn’t get nerdier than that!”

“Lightsabers are so cool,” Thalia argued, bumping him with her shoulder. “Spiderman’s such a New Yorker thing.”

“It has nothing to do with New York!” He said. “And I’m from Manhattan, not Queens.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s all the same.”

Percy gasped. “It’s not!”

Thalia’s face was skeptical.

“Maybe Chiron’s right,” he suggested. “We don’t agree much, huh?”

“We’re a chaotic duo,” she conceded.

Percy took the basket from her. He hadn’t been planning on putting the clothes away, but he was afraid of what else Thalia would find if she decided to do it herself.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he realized. “There’s a rule about two campers in the same cabin alone.”

Thalia shrugged dismissively. “I’ll pretend I’m new and didn’t know. Besides, we’re cousins, it doesn’t count.”

“We’re all cousins at Camp,” Percy pointed out. “Or aunts, uncles, nephews… we’re all related, anyway.”

She gave him a rueful smile, “It’s different for us Big Three Kids. We’re a lot alike. We carry the weight of everybody’s expectations. They admire us but they might never fully trust us. And then there’s that fucking prophecy…”

Percy was about to comment on her clearly inherited flare for dramatics, but was put off by the last part. “How did you…?”

“Chiron told me,” she explained.

“He- he just told you?” he tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I thought he was trying to keep us in the dark about that.”

“He didn’t tell me the whole thing,” Thalia said. “He really doesn’t trust me all that much. Annabeth says he’s afraid I’ll go to the Dark Side if he doesn’t ‘obey my every whim’, or whatever.”

Percy kept quiet. He was sure Thalia’s stance on the battle against Kronos kept more than just Chiron on edge.

“I told Chiron not to worry,” she added. “Becoming a Sith Lord has never been my ambition.”

Percy snorted, “I bet that reassured him so much.”

“I couldn’t care less.”

He would’ve argued that Chiron only wanted the best for everyone, but then he remembered how he had felt after he’d been claimed. Alone, watched, mistrusted. Most people had suddenly decided he was a bomb about to go off. They were too afraid to get close to him. Or maybe they just didn’t think he was worth the risk.

At least he’d had a week to make friends before he’d been claimed. Thalia hadn’t had the option of anonymity. And of course, he’d had Luke to support him. Whether the older boy’s motives were honest or not, he’d made Percy feel less lonely.

By treating Thalia preferentially —as Percy had assumed—, or like she might snap or break —like she felt—, Chiron was ensuring she’d be left out. Who’d have the guts to befriend the hero-worshipped, volatile daughter of Zeus who was perhaps Kronos’ new pawn?

“Anyway,” Thalia broke the silence that was stretching longer than was necessary. “I actually came here to thank you. You know, for helping me that day when everybody else just stood there. And for bringing back the fleece. I know it was officially Clarisse, but Annabeth told me all of it.”

For the first time since she had been untreed, Percy saw a trace of vulnerability across Thalia’s face.

It was only for a second but she’d looked younger somehow. More human and less mythical.

He cleared his throat. “It was the right thing to do. Grover needed help, Clarisse couldn’t do it on her own… I couldn’t let Annabeth go without me.”

Thalia nodded. She put a hand on his arm. “You’re a nice kid, Percy. You’re much more than what people expect from you, but you don’t need to hold the world on your shoulders.”

Percy smiled. She sounded sincere. He recalled Annabeth mentioning Thalia liked taking people under her wing.

‘Like Wendy and the Lost Boys…’ she’d said. ‘A temperamental Wendy.’

Maybe Thalia and him did have some things in common.

“Let’s go to the arena,” he offered. “We can do a few rounds of sparring before Chiron finds out we’re breathing the same air.”

Thalia smirked. “I’ll kick your ass.”

“You will try.”

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Thirty Seconds

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 4) Y/N enters the maze

Warning: Blood, kidnapping, maths (yes there’s a warning for that because it kills me)

Words: 2,360 

A/N: I hope no one looks at my search history because... not good

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Five  Part Six

Master List HERE   Permanent Tag List HERE

You look at the LED display which gives you your instructions.

 Unlock the door at the top of the stairs. Enter the maze. Forty-five minutes.

 You don’t bother to step over the pictures, not caring about the dirt from your shoes transferring. The steps are framed by a washer and a dryer, both in a dishevelled state from where you had searched them. Gripping the key tightly, you climbed the stairs and slid it into the lock. You turned the key, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

A wall extended from each side of the door, floor to ceiling and, once again, made completely of concrete. The path extended away from you, but the ceiling lights showed that it veered into two different directions.

 With the walls being floor to ceiling, there was no way for you to see above them and determining how big the maze was. The forty-five-minute timer set could be wholly unrealistic but what choice did you have? You had to at least try.

 You put your right hand on the wall, just like Spencer had said back in October, and take a final deep breath. You stepped into the maze, ready to begin your next task, one that you hoped was both your last one and not. Last, if it meant your team finding you. Not your last, if your team didn’t find you and you needed to survive.

 You kept your right hand on the wall as you travelled through the maze, the concrete scrapping at the delicate pads of your fingers. It wasn’t a painful feeling, but it was slightly uncomfortable. You ignored it, concentrating on keeping a level head as you walked through the maze.

 You had been close to death. You had barely found the key in time before the timer had run out. You had thought you were going to die for sure, that you would fail the task and the unsub would appear and kill you.

 You could have died and you would have never had seen your friends or family again. No more well-meaning lectures from your parents. No more worrying about how your younger sibling was fairing at college. You wouldn’t have Penelope dragging you shoe shopping again, and Emily wouldn’t be able try and convince you to have a drink with the team. Hotch wouldn’t stand behind you during interrogation sin a silent display of support, and there would be no more dinner parties or personal conversations with Rossi. Derek wouldn’t tease you about your ‘twin telepathy’ with Spencer.

 And, oh, Spencer. You’d miss out on so much, you had so many plans. You were going to take him to a concert your favourite band was holding. In return, he was planning on taking you to a lecture on molecular physics. You wouldn’t be able to bounce ideas off each other again, he wouldn’t be able to supply the words you couldn’t quite grasp when trying to describe something.

 No, stop it. You were going to be okay. You had made it this far. As long as you followed Spencer’s directions and kept right, you would make it out of the maze. You were not going to let some unsub beat you.

 You had went up against unsubs before. Everyday of your career was full of them and you hadn’t lost yet. You were not going to lose this time. You had been there to help stop Tobias Hankel, Mason Turner, and Robert and Linda Reimann. If you could get through them, you could get through this.

 Your nose scrunched up as a rancid odour filled your senses. Your left hand lifts to cover your face as you choke on air, the smell turning your stomach. The smell is strong and sharp, and almost seems to burn your nose.

 And its coming from your right.

 You have no choice, you have to follow it around, you can’t detour from your path or you’ll never make it out of the maze.

 You turn the corner.

 There, on the floor, is a large stain. It’s a dark, rusted red. Smeared across the floor, as if someone had half-assed trying to clean it us, the blood was easily identifiable. Someone had died here. It could only have been the second victim or the fourth. However, the second victim refused to participate and the fourth completed it… maybe the second victim refused to continue and was then killed? Or did the unsub have more victims he didn’t advertise?

 You stepped over the blood stain and continued on.

 From the stain, you know that the method of death wasn’t pleasant. You knew the unsub killed his victims by stabbing them but with the large stain on the floor, you knew it would be overkill. That means it would be painful but hopefully quick. If you were going to die a painful death, you hoped it would be over quickly.

 You turned right again and ahead of you; you could see a door with a LED display above it reads;

 Seven minutes and eleven seconds.

 You had made it. You were about to finish the maze, the second task. You breathed a sigh of relief, rushing for the door and twisting the handle, pushing it open and stepping inside.

 -

 Spencer stood with team as they delivered the profile of the unsub who had taken Y/N. He stood at the back, arms folded across his chest and remained uncharacteristically quiet as the other members spoke.

 “The unsub we’re looking for will be a white male in his thirties.”

“He is probably a man who is of average height and build, and is able to appear unassuming and non-threatening.”

“He most likely works in a profession relating to science in some way. Perhaps as a chemist, a schoolteacher even.”

“He’ll live in the north west Washington area and will be single with no children.”

“His interactions with women would be awkward, perhaps limited. He stabs his victims to get sexual release that he can’t get any other way.”

“He’ll probably drive a hatchback or sedan, nothing that would stand out, nothing flashy.”

 Spencer didn’t know how this profile would help. They currently had no witnesses, no suspects. There were multiple men in Washington who would fit the profile. They’d solved cases like this before but now it was personal, and Spencer couldn’t see the light here.

 Derek’s phone rang he quickly answered it, putting it on speaker. “Talk to me, baby girl.”

“Okay, I got a hit off the car and the partial plate. I’ve followed it back to two separate cars, with single differences in their plates” Garcia informs them. “Lewis Rakers and Bailey Peterson.” “Rossi, Prentiss, you go to Rakers. Morgan and I will go to Peterson’s” Hotch orders. “Garcia send the addresses to our cells and I want a full background check on both of them.”

“Yes, sir” she hung up.

Hotch turned to Spencer, “Go over all of the victim’s schedules again and see if their paths crossed in anyway, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

 Spencer knew they hadn’t missed anything, that Hotch was just trying to give him something to do because he refused to let Spencer into the field. He nodded anyway, moving back to the room which held the case files while Hotch instructed JJ to visit the ME to find out more about the newest body found, that of Lydia Webb.

 -

 Lewis Raker opened the door to his basement, his arms full of washing as he climbed down the stairs. He shoved the dirty laundry into the washing machine, adding the detergent before pressing it on. He sighed as he looked around the messy basement, he’d have to clean it up soon. A knock sounded from upstairs and he left the basement, closing the door behind him as he went to the front door.

 -

 Bailey Peterson put away the final item, looking around his basement. Once a mess, he had managed to tidy it up in less than an hour. It had involved moving some items, picking up rubbish off the floor but it was done now. The bell for his front door sounded and Bailey quickly hurried to answer it, pulling the door shut behind him.

 -

 David Rossi and Emily Prentiss climbed back into their car. Lewis Raker had answered their questions without hesitation. He had, however, denied them entrance into his home. It was a one storey property, made with grey bricks and had a wooden porch. Thirty minutes outside of Washington, it was in a quiet area with limited neighbours.

 “Do you think its him?” Prentiss asked, not looking away from the house.

“I don’t know, but its strange that he won’t let us inside” Rossi comments, eyes narrowed as he eyed the house with equal scepticism. “Call Hotch, see how he’s getting on.”

Emily pulled out her phone, dialling Hotch’s number and putting it on speaker.

 -

 Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan walked away from the Peterson residence. A two-storey building made of bricks, it was an eye catcher in the neighbour-less area of north west Washington. They climbed back into their car, not bothering with their seatbelts as they stared at the building in front of them.

 Hotch’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his suit pocket. “Hotchner.” “Hey, we just got done with Raker. He gave nothing away and wouldn’t let us into the house without a warrant” Emily informed him.

“We just had the same interaction with Peterson” Hotch confirmed. “I’ll patch in Garcia and see if she’s found anything.”

 Putting the phone on speaker, Hotch dialled Garcia’s number and added her to the call. She answered the call on the second ring, greeting the team with her usual quippy comment before jumping straight into giving them the information they needed.

 “Okay, only one of our duo matches the profile. He’s not a chemist or science teacher, but his dad was. He works as a janitor at a local high school though, so he could get access to the ingredients to make the chloroform. No wife, girlfriend, boyfriend or anything that can be seen. I also went over CCTV of the areas where the victims went missing and it took a while, but I found the car in every camera. Sometimes the times aren’t exact, but its within half-hour either way.”

 “Who is it Garcia?” Hotch demanded.

Garcia took a deep inhale of breath before she told them the name.

 -

 You were in a new room. It was tiny, if you were to reach your arms out in either direction, you’d be touching the wall. Ahead of you is a door, an alphabetical keypad beside it. Above the keypad is a laminated piece of paper and a timer counting down from three minutes.

 The laminated paper held a riddle and you stepped closer to read it.

 ‘I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’

 You know the answer to this riddle. You, Spencer and Penelope had a game you would play with each other. You would tell each other riddles, hoping the others wouldn’t know the answer. It was a playful game, something to occupy the downtime when you didn’t have a case. This had been Penelope’s first riddle and she had been annoyed when Spencer had guessed the answer correctly before she had even finished telling it.

 ‘Echo’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door slid open and you stepped through. The new room is exactly the same as the first, the timer reset to read three minutes and it was already counting down. You turned to the riddle.

 ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?’

 This was a riddle you had given to Penelope and Spencer. You had spent ages on Google looking for the perfect riddle before finding this one. You had been proud because Spencer hadn’t been able to answer the riddle straight away. It hadn’t taken him long, only a few minutes, but you still counted it as a victory.

 ‘Map’ you typed into the keypad.

 The door in front of you slid open and you stepped through again. Its exactly the same as the first two and you groan. Riddles were fun but under pressure, you already knew you were going to struggle.

 ‘How can the number four be half of five?’

 This one stumps you. You’re not the best at maths and would admit to that any day. This was not a riddle which was made for you. While you struggled with large sums off the top of your head, you knew that half of five was two-point-five. The math was impossible. Maybe it doesn’t mean the literally number though. The numbers are written as words, maybe that was a clue. It could be ‘fi’ or ‘ve’ or…

 Roman numerals. They used letters, didn’t they? You hated Roman numerals, they were stupid and confusing, not following a logical order which you hated. What was the answer? IIII or IV… wait, IV. Those are two letters which are in five. You couldn’t be certain that they were the Roman numerical version of four, but you were running out of time.

 ‘IV’ you input into the keyboard.

 You hold your breath but then the next door slides open and you walk through. There’s another riddle.

 ‘Find the next three parts of the sequence…. OTTFFS’

 What? You didn’t understand. What was the sequence? It made no sense, there was no method to the layout of the letters. What could they mean? You didn’t even know what the letters could stand for.

 You would have to guess because you had no way of knowing. You looked at the timer, thirty seconds. What were you going to put? You bit your bottom lip and reached for the keypad.

 “SOO” you typed.

 The timer reached zero and the door remained closed. You held your breath, turning around in your spot. The lights went out and you were left in the dark. 

A/N: What’s the answer to the riddle? And, who is the kidnapper/killer?

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[redhairedfeistynerd]

A Very Bucky Thanksgiving

Bucky Barnes x reader, singledad!Bucky, Riley and Piper Barnes, Steve Rogers

Summary: This is the first year Bucky has invited someone special to join in on their Thanksgiving dinner.Will everything go smoothly?

Warnings: some swearing, some sly sexual conversation, teasing, some humour

Word Count: 3K +

A/N: I originally wrote this piece for Canadian Thanksgiving but here we are!  I hope you enjoy another moment with the Barnes family.

For as long as his girls have been in this world, Bucky has been passionate about baking. He figures this came to fruition when his ex-wife started spending more time out of the house and preferred being away on business trips than building a life with him and their young girls. As their relationship slowly deteriorated, Bucky found solace in pastries, cookies, and breads. Navigating his way through forums and how-to videos online, searching for recipes like he once hunted for his latest mission.

His girls had requested their favourites for this last-minute weekend celebration. Pumpkin pie with maple cream, pumpkin walnut scones, and a new treat he was testing out today, pumpkin spiced doughnuts with maple salted glaze, and for his sweet lady friend; a pecan pie.

Bucky could smell the doughnuts before the time reached zero. The soft smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted through his two-story house, reaching him while he tidied up the bathroom from the girls attack on it early that same morning. Wiping down the counter, he flicked off the light, bounding down the stairs to the kitchen as the last seconds wound down on the timer. Oven mitt on, doughnuts pulled out of the oven (he was trying out a baked version this time) he had about an hour before the girls would burst in the front door after a day of shopping the holiday sales.

The weekend plans had changed at the last minute, his ex (Jackie) had cancelled on the girls again. The girls were to fly up to their mothers' cabin in Whistler, B.C. for a Canadian Thanksgiving but a last-minute job had come up and she chose that over her kids.

Bucky was not impressed by her choice. Riley rolled her eyes at the news and muttered “big surprise” when Bucky relayed the message to his youngest daughter.

Jackie always chose work before their daughters. Her new husband had more importance to her these days.

Her influencer status has skyrocketed after she left Bucky, leaving him high and dry to raise the girls. He didn't see it as an issue though, he loved his girls and if he had to do this on his own, then that's what he would set out to do. His Avengers status pushed away a few years before, he found that he was calling Steve a bit more during those earlier years. Sometimes he needs a break, to sit in a quiet room where Riley wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs, which would have Piper in tears. There was something magical about Uncle Steve though, maybe it was his rich voice, whispering sweet words to Riley to ease the screams to a low whimper. Maybe it was the way he sang the sweet songs of the 40s to stop the tears flowing from Piper's bright blue eyes. Whatever it was that Steve had, Bucky was extremely thankful for.  

One of their first Thanksgivings without Jackie, had both girls sick with the stomach flu. He'd never seen anything as disgusting as what his young girls were dishing out.  

Blood, wounds, and other violent memories had nothing on this. Who knew little people could cause THAT much mess?

Bucky was exhausted. Riley had finally fallen asleep on the couch and Piper was sprawled out in the master bedroom on his bed, resembling a starfish.

With one last swipe of the kitchen counter, Bucky tossed the rag in the laundry basket and released a sigh of completion. Turning on the hood fan, he turned off the track lights and walked towards his daughter who was now snoring lightly on the couch, when a soft knocking came from his front door. Puzzled, he turned away from his sleeping daughter and made his way to the entryway. He opened the door to Steve's smiling face.

"What are you..."

"Nat phoned and gave me the heads up that you were literally drowning in shit."

"Language," grumbled Bucky as he opened the door wider to let Steve in.

Steve chuckled and took a good look at Bucky. "Man, you're looking a little rough around the edges."

"You would too if you were knee deep in dirty laundry and had two goblins that were puking so much, they make that scene in the Exorcist look tame.

Steve scrunched his nose and tried to shake the memory of that scene out of his head. The previous year, Bucky had invited his old team over for a horror movie night while the girls were spending the night with their mom. Steve still hadn't forgiven Bucky for subjecting him to that movie. "Absolutely disgusting."

Bucky grunted and shut the door, Steve following him from the entryway and up the stairs to the kitchen.

"Here, Nat made some soup for you and the girls, if they are feeling up to eating it,” Steve said holding out the package.

“Oh ya, thanks. I’m sure the girls will appreciate their Aunty Nat making her famous soup,” he nods his head in thanks before muttering “hopefully it's not pea soup,” and walks across the kitchen.

Steve watches as Bucky tucks the soup away in the fridge, noticing how stringy his hair has become and when he looks his way, the dark circles are around his eyes. “Hey Buck, why don’t you leave the tidying up to me and you go take a shower, relax a bit.”

Bucky shuts the fridge door and looks at Steve. “Are you sure you want to clean up this cesspool?” He asks as his arms waving to point out the mess around the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m here to help you out, all right?” Bucky nods and pats Steve on the shoulder on his way up to the bathroom.

Steve manages to tidy up the first floor of the house, shift Riley from the couch to her bed, and fold a load of laundry. He’s pouring hot water into a mug when Bucky walks back in, looking like the shower did its job. “You want a cup of tea?” He asks Bucky when he sit down at the kitchen table.

“Please, a cup of something black so I can keep my eyes open for a bit longer. You feel like watching a funny movie? I feel like I need a good laugh after what this week has been like.”  

“Sounds good, how about you go on down and put something on, I’ll bring the tea and some snacks for us,” Steve replies and pours a second mug full of water.  

The men settle in and watch a classic comedy, quiet laughter sailing out of both of their mouths, trying to be quiet while the girls sleep. Steve decides on a second movie and they watch until they fall asleep on the couches.  

Bucky wakes up, his stomach twisting, and the pain, THE PAIN. "You've got to be fucking kidding.” He lurches off the sectional and runs to the bathroom by the laundry room.

Steve wakes from the sounds of his friend slamming the bathroom door, the unmentionable sounds have Steve pulling his pillow over his head. When he moves it away several minutes later, all he hears is silence. Steve gets up from the couch and makes his way to the bathroom, gently knocking on the door. "Bucky? Are you alive in there?"

"Fucking kill me, please,” he begs and Steve hears his best friend heave again.

Steve camps out at the Barnes household during that Thanksgiving weekend. There is no turkey, no pumpkin pie, or a dysfunctional family fight. Everything is quiet as Bucky careens himself in his bedroom while Steve manages the rest of the household. He keeps the girls busy and out of Bucky’s hair for several days; visits to the ice cream shop and to the park near their home, keeps them smiling and giggling while their dad is at home, miserable in bed.

Steve sits back on the park bench and admires the colours changing all around him; the leaves sway from left to right, falling gently down to the ground. Piles of brown and yellow sit before him, raked into tidy piles. He gets and idea, something to cheer Bucky up the last few days of having the stomach flu. He calls the girls over and tells them his plan to make their dad smile. He makes a video of them, jumping in the leaves and throwing them around, their laughter warming his heart. When the girls have finished frolicking in the mounds of colourful leaves, he takes each other their hands in his and begins the walk back to the house. He’ll send the little video to Bucky in the morning when he heads out and back to work.  

Bucky still smiles at the memory of that little video. He can now smile about his treacherous first Thanksgiving as a single dad but he made it up every year that followed; this year, he has to make up for what his ex has left behind. Riley is pressuring him to make her mom's famous stuffing (he laughs at this because this is a recipe that she took from a cookbook he had from his mom) Piper has decided that Bucky is THE WORST because he is going to kill an innocent turkey and all she wants is for him to save one (and yes, he does donate to a local farm that saves turkeys later in the week) and have it live the rest of its life, in their backyard. He notes that she will have a plate of vegetables tonight and he has no idea if that is sufficient enough for a teenage girl who that is 15.  

“Cranberries sauce”

“Check!”

“Water chestnuts.”

“Check!”

“Wait, what the heck are water chestnuts for, Pop?”

Bucky is sitting on the kitchen floor sorting through the pantry and about to answer when he sees you creeping into the kitchen, hiding behind his oldest, about to scare her. Her arms wrap around Piper and she squeezes her tightly expelling a high-pitched squeak.  

He will never get over how beautiful her smile is when her eyes meet his. His heart beats so fast that he’s afraid she will be able to see it pounding in his chest.  

The flowers she is holding scream fall – oranges, yellows, and reds – the cute Chinese lanterns that she adores, wobble back and forth as she walks towards him. She reaches for him with her free hand and pulls him into a tight hug, whispering “you look extra handsome today, soldier.”

“He got his hair trimmed for you,” Riley shouts from the top of the stairs and watches as her father’s face turns as red as the Gerbera's in the bouquet. She snorts as she walks down the stairs at Bucky’s embarrassment and hops down the last few steps to pull y/n into a hug.

“Hi sweetness, I missed your smiling face,” Y/N says into Riley’s strawberry blond curls.

“Missed you too. Are you ready for your first Barnes Annual Canadian Thanksgiving?” Riley asks while rocking on her feet.

Y/N looks at her, “Is it any different from the other Thanksgiving I would be having?

“Well duh, this one if full of maple syrup, poutine, and never-ending skits by Bob and Doug Mackenzie!

Bucky bursts out laughing and poor Y/N is looking between the two of them, lost when it came to the last item. “Okay, okay, Ri, leave the poor woman alone. Here love, let me take those flowers and put them in a vase.” Bucky squeezes her waist gently, taking the colourful bouquet from her hands. She follows him to the cabinet housing the vase and sniffs the air.

“What’s is that smell? It’s so-

“Delicious?” Riley adds as she passes by Y/N and hops up onto a bar stool? “Your taste buds are in for an incredible treat. Dad is the best baker this city has!”

“Pretty sure I’m not hun, but thank you for boosting me up a bit.” Bucky’s cheeks changing in colour, somewhat embarrassed by his daughter's compliment.

“Oh, come on dad, that’s why all the moms are always swooning when you join the bake sales,” Piper chirps in.

“The moms swoon over your dad? I’m pretty sure that has more to do with his-” she’s cut off by Bucky shoving a Snickerdoodle in her mouth. Squinted her eyes at him and waving her finger as if she’s promising to get him back later. He can’t help but smirk and squeeze her side.

“Shhh, my sweet. Don’t be telling my girls how irresistible I am,” he whispers into her ear and kisses it.

Riley makes gagging sounds from behind her dad and Piper’s face turns red from the affection their father is showing Y/N. This is the not the first time they have seen their father with a woman but this specific woman has done something to their father. He’s smiling, he whistles while he bakes, and he’s happy.  

Y/N turns to face Riley, “Oh kid, are we embarrassing you? Making you feel a little queasy inside?” She walks over to Bucky as he arranges the flowers in the vase and loudly kisses his cheek and laughs. “How about that Ri?”

“You’re the worst,” Riley chuckles and grabs the serving spoons to put on the table.  

Bucky pulls Y/N into a hug and kisses her lightly on the lips. He can taste the Snickerdoodle and it makes him wish he could fully indulge but he restrains, knowing that tonight they’ll have time alone once the girls head to their rooms for the night. He brings his lips to her forehead before taking the flowers to the table and placing them in the centre.  

“All right ladies, let’s get this show on the road!”  

“Don’t you mean Barnes’, Assemble!” Piper asks with a smirk on her face. Bucky just shook his head, a big smile across his face.

“Tell me where you want me, Barnes,” Y/N said as she looked at Bucky, his smirk telling her that where he wanted her was not in the kitchen.

“Turkey is in the oven, that weird Tofurky thing is in there too, I need to add the water chestnuts to the beans, the pot of potatoes needs to boil, and in a bit, we can get the rest of the veggies going too. Who’s good with making gravy?”

“I hope you made stuffing for me that isn’t in that bird, dad,” Piper said, giving her dad one of her teenage looks.

Bucky slides a bowl across the counter to his oldest so she can see the stuffing he made; animal free. “It’s vegan sweetie, I hope you like it,” Bucky responds. “I found this recipe online, some popular blog.” He watches as she scoops a bit of the warm food in her mouth, and can’t help but chuckle when a groan of satisfaction spills out.  

Y/N can’t help but take a scoop for herself, a squeal of delight escaping her mouth. “Shit, Barnsey, you’ve been holding back! Where have you been all my life?” She laughs and walks back over to him, wrapping her arms around him and going in for a quick kiss. “Let’s get this show on the road! All pots on boil!” She shouts and turns the last pot on.

The Barnes family and their first-time guest are indulging in their feast within an hour. Nothing but chewing and soft music can be heard at the table. It always amazes Bucky that it takes hours upon hours of work for this one evening and within minutes the food is gone. He’s thankful though; for his girls, for the life he now has, and for you. He wouldn’t change anything. One last scoop of mashed potatoes goes into his mouth and he places his fork down. “So, do you three want dessert now or do you want to digest a bit first?” Riley stands up from her seat and throws her hands in the air. “Roll out the cart of desserts for us to feast upon, father!”  

All Bucky can do is laugh, she’s always been the dramatic one and he lives for these moments. “Riley, I haven’t said what I’m thankful for yet this evening but one of those things I’m thankful for the humour you provide in this family.”

“Aww Pops, I appreciate that but can you please just bring out the good stuff?” Riley’s blue eyes sparkle and Bucky pushes his chair in and heads back to the counter where he has the pies and other sugary treats. He brings the doughnuts and pumpkin pie with maple cream out first, leaving the girls to help themselves as he returns to the kitchen to cut Y/N a slice of pecan pie. He places a dollop of fresh whipped cream beside it and carries it to her, his face turns red when he places it before her stating, “I made this especially for you.” A look crosses her face and its one he has only recently seen. He thinks its adoration? Or could it be...love? He’s not sure if it’s either but whatever it is, he hopes she continues looking at him that way. He sits back down across from her and watches as she takes the first bite of pie. Her eyes close and he can see the sparkle in her eyeshadow as the light above bounces off of it. It feels like forever before he hears a sound of approval from her.  

“Wow Barnes. I’m going to say this is almost as good as s-

“Well now, girls, how about you start cleaning up what you can and let Y/N finish up her pie.” He tries to pull back Piper’s chair and is met with resistance.

“No WAY, Pops. I want to hear all about how good this pie of yours is. Right, Riley?” Piper looks to her sister, eyebrow raised in hopes that her sister will join in on the teasing.”

“Hell no, I don’t want to hear about the crap these two get up to. Nu uh, NOPE,” she shouts and she grabs a few dishes from the table and heads to the sink to rinse them off.  

Dishes away and the leftovers wrapped up, Bucky takes Y/N’s hand and walks with her to his room. Door closed and locked behind him, Bucky finally pulls his sweet lady as close to him as possible. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Buck.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him into a kiss. “Come on Barnsey, there’s one thing you haven’t warmed up yet this evening.”

“Oh, did I forget to warm up your pie because I can head back-

She quiets him with another kiss, deeper than the last. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant. Now, be good a good man and get ready for the real dessert.”

Bucky can’t help but curl up and laugh loudly. His girl knows all the ways to make him laugh and smile, tonight is no exception. With one pull, she is on top of him, where he wants her this evening; where he can be warm within and thankful for everything his life has brought him.

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - III

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 5303

Rating: NC-17

Sorry that it took forever, my head is messed up.

Chapter I  Chapter II  -  Chapter IV Chapter V  Chapter VI Chapter VII

For the first time in years Jungkook woke up on his own, when his body asked for it, without anyone waking him up with a bucket of cold water, or to meet some schedule. He felt numb and heavy, relaxed, rested. He stretched, sitting against the headboard in the dark room. He couldn't tell the time, since there was no clock, making him feel a little disoriented in space time. After so many years without freedom to come and go the boy was not sure what to do now. About ten minutes went by without anyone showing up to tell him to get up - and he didn't want at all, the bed hugging him - hunger settled in his stomach, as well as the urge to go to the bathroom. But could he really leave? He got up and tested the door. It wasn't locked. So he could leave the room, in theory. Without making a sound he closed the door again and went back to bed, thinking about what to do to make the best impression on the first day in his new home. He decided to make the bed and tidy up the room. When he opened the curtains, bringing light to the room, a pile of clothes on the armchair caught his attention - a pair of sweatpants shorts and a oversized t-shirt, a new toothbrush, a pink post it on top. These clothes are mine, but it’s for you to wear while we don’t buy some for you. I think it'll fit. By the smell it was obvious the clothes were yours, he didn't even need to read the note to know. It fit, but not the way Jungkook likes to dress up - he likes big clothes on him, to feel comfy, and your big clothes, wich are big for you, who are smaller than him, are just right to him.  Right now he was in clean clothes, smelling of fabric softener and you.  He put on his shoes and his cap too. Outside the window the now busy street was full of cars and people, making him excited to go out. But yet again, can he? Determined to be a good boy and not disobey, for you to love him, Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed and waited. More minutes passed before he heard light knocks on the bedroom door. He crossed the room in one step and opened the door as fast as he could, his tail wagging from side to side, but it wasn't you in the hall, his smile fell. It was the cat. "What are you doing?" Yeri asked, taking him by surprise. "I... I'm..." He stammered. She crossed her arms "You've been up for almost half an hour, why haven't you left the room yet? Are you alright?" "Yeah" He spoke so low that if Yeri didn't have feline hearing she wouldn't have understood a word. "I was waiting for Y/n." "Oh" Her confused expression softened. "She went to work." "She is not home?" Yeri couldn't understand the slight panic in Jungkook's voice at asking it, or why he didn't left the room by his own choice. She don't know the feeling of rejection like he does, or the pain of being treated like a animal. She knows she is privileged though, she don't need to understand to be empathic... And you asked her to be nice to Jungkook so... "No, and she asked me to keep an eye on you until she back." She smiled softly "Go wash yourself, Y/n let breakfast done for you." Jungkook loved the restroom, for no especial reason, he just he just never saw a bathroom so ... happy - all colorful and with little plants in cute pots, and smelling and clean like he never imagined a bathroom could be. Out of curiosity he decided to try the shower, turned the register slowly, and when the water started to fall he put his hand under it and ... oh, it was so warm. "Yeri!" Jungkook ran into kicthen , where the cat was waiting by the table, scearing her off. The white hairs on her tail were all standing on end when she answered in a hiss. "What?!" "Where do I find towels and shampoo?" He excitedly asked. Not quite understanding Yeri pointed to the hall. "In the closet under the stairs in the hall... But..." Before she could end the sentence he was gone, and the sound of the door of the bathroon closing againg. Jungkook love to shower, stay clean, water. This was often the only medicine he received after being beaten until he was unable to get up. After a while, the cold, limited water shower became the safe spot for him, where the world couldn't hurt him anymore, and he could just breathe. In the shelter the water was not so cold anymore, but there was still a time limit for each shower, it was still Jungkook's favorite time of the day, because he didn't need to think about anything other than himself. Now the water was hot and pressurized, massaging his sore muscles, more than the room you give to him, this felt like home. Of course Jungkook felt a litlle bit upset that you weren't home when he woke up, after all he wanted to see you, he never liked an owner so much that he missed them from one day to the next. But he wasn't going to complain, it's not like he's used to getting attention, in fact being alone was more common than anything. He understands that you can have more important things to do than show him the apartment or prepare and have breakfast with him... You are already too good to be real. He was rinsing his hair and ears, massaging his own scalp, when voices came from outside, caughting his attention. It was two voices, female. You were home. _________________________________________________________________________________________ You entered the apartment with arms full of shopping bags and document folders. You quickly dropped everything on the table or on the floor near the door, took off your coat to hang on the rack and kicked off your shoes. Your eyes searched the living room and kitchen, looking for Jungkook, without a sign of him. You tried to complete all your tasks at the office as quickly as possible and rescheduled some visits for other days of the week to be able to get home early to see him, you were anxious to know if he slept well, or if your male clothes fit him . The breakfast you prepared for him before leaving still wrapped on the counter. You frowned. "Where is Jungkook?" You asked to Yeri, who was lying on the couch by teh window, jumping through the channels. "Taking a shower. He just woke up." She said without looking away from the tv. You hummed. "Ok. Can you put on the news for me please. I didn't have time to check it today." Yeri complained despite obeying anyway, but you paid no attention to it, busy putting the mess you brought with you in its proper place. The TV journalist was talking about the economy updates, which was not the topic you wanted to see. The explosion of the shelter last night ended up on twitter trending topics, but you wanted to know what the official media outlets have to say about. On the internet your organization is seen as justice, everything you do is seen as a heroic act by many, and that brings strength to the movement. Those in favor of the slavery of the hybrids also speak out against you, but their ignorance only strengthens the abulutionist discourse too - in a slow process of difficulty, but there are so many people working for equality that you refuse to be shaken by these rotten people full of hate. This polarization of ideas, of course, also divides politics, and it is this part that interests you the most, because it is from the government that the rights of the hybrids will be guaranteed. Mess with the economy and popular opinion that it is possible to change the government, which is why you and your camarades love that much to explode some state buildings. "Why are you home? I was expecting you only in an hour." Yeri looked at you from the other side of the room with lazy eyes. "Ah, I have to go out to do some more sttuf, but I needed to come pick something... And maybe eat. I skipped lunch."   You decided to warm up the pancakes you made for Jungkook in the morning, and add toast and eggs to your meal. You heard the bathroom door and fast steps and was about to ask Jungkook if likes coffee, the moment you turned around he was already behind you, with a big smile and open arms to hug you. "Y/N!" You were enveloped by jungkook's long arms and squeezed against your chest, losing your balance the way he hit you with his whole body. By instinct and with no regrets, you hugged him back. His tail, which was already swinging from side to side, started to swing even faster. His dump hair was wetting you, and his litlle happy sounds were malink you soft. "Hi, Jungkook...." You give light taps on his back and opened up space between you two. " Let me see you... I knew the clothes would fit quite well. But if you don't like them, fine, they are only temporary, so you don't have to walk around in that shelter's hideous pajama." "I like the smell of it." He said smelling the shirt collar fabric. "Good. Because I'm a little paranoid about laundry." You really are. Actually you are kind of crazy tidy. "Are you hungry?" You softly said, still looking to how the clothes were wrapping his body. You didn't notices but you were making him blush with your stare. "Yes." He said in tiny. "Me too, lets eat breakfest together.". You reaffirmed your theory that Jungkook wouldn't be too picky about food, and that basically anything you put in front of him he eats happily. He just doesn't like coffee. And sweets are really his favorite. He ate the pancakes and egg with toast, plus a very large bowl of cereal, some fruit and a glass of juice. It wasn't just because everything was good, but he was happy you were eating with him, and that made him even more hungry. "Lucky me I have money." You still have a lot of questions in your head to do to Jungkook. You were curious about him in so many levels. Since from his habits and tastes to his past ... One doubt you have is: How is he so docile? His file said that he spent almost a decade in illegal dogfights. Most hybrids take less than five years to lost their and go feral, and then when they can no longer be controlled the owners put them down. But Jungkook doesn't. Furthermore, despite being a pitbull, he does not have his canine ears clipped, which is not common in the middle of where he came from. You wanted so much to ask... but you decided oposite it, thinking that it wasn't the moment. "Want more juice?" Jungkook offered, he was pouring himself more and saw your empty glass. "Of couse, thankyou, sweetie." You didn't notice the blush on his cheeks again, intending to pay more attention to the TV in the living room. Jungkook was not used to hearing praise like that, the most he heard from his former owner was 'champion' or 'good boy' when he won a fight and there was nothing satisfying about it. Your 'sweetie', on the other hand, accompanied by a smile from you, just because of a glass of juice seemed like the world to him. "Updates on the terrorist attack on a shelter in downtown Seoul last night: It was confirmed that despite the magnitude of the explosion and the damage to the building's structure, there were no victims, either by the hybrids or by the local staff. According to the authorities, the 100 hybrids that lived in the shelter were kidnapped by an anti-government organization as a form of protest, on social media entities defend that they were released by the Set Us Free movement." You got up and crossed your arms to watch the jornalist talking as aerial recordings of the burning building and post prints talking about took over the screen. "Early in the morning, a series of complaints linked to the shelter came to the knowledge of the police, involving corruption and money laundering, as well as mistreatment of resident hybrids. Among the evidence presented a list with names involved in the scheme ..." As the jornlist listed names of businessman and politicians. Many of these names you already knew, once your group that investigated and made the report, others were a surprise to you. In that moment you were so interested in the news that you sat on the end of the chouch supporting your elbows on your knees,  watching the TV without blinking. Jungkook recognized the images from the shelter last night, but he didn't find it so interesting, because seeing the explosion live was much nicer, and none of the information said anything to him. But seeing you so serious was interesting, he took the bowl of cereal and sat at your feet, looking more at you and your reactions than at the TV itself. "Senator Y/L/N spoke earlier in a news conference.." The image of the journalist was replaced by one of a man in a suit speaking in front of several different microphones. "Violent acts can't and won't be encouraged, but we need to pay attention to where it comes from. The social injustice and slavery of hybrids needs to be tackled in some way, and since the government is slow to guarantee the rights they deserve as similar to humans, manifestations of marginalized groups are to be expected. It is not giving them what they want, as the conservators say, it is guaranteeing them what should already be theirs by right. Situations like last night are nothing more than a symptom of the disease that we think we are entitled to own a hybrid." Jungkook thought it was cute the way you were biting the inside of your cheek or how it looked like you were narrowing your eyes with each word said. "Ya... Dad is so different when speeching..." Yeri mumbled.  It took Jungkook's attention away from you. "Dad?" He asked with his mouth full of cereal, looking from Yeri to you and to the man in the TV. "Yes." You awnsered, lying in the couch. "This is my uncle... He is cool isn't he?" Jungkook frowned, not thinking the guy is so cool... but since you say so... "Does he protect hybrids like you do?" You smiled to him, slightly petting his head. "On his way." At the same time that the news changed to weather forecast, your phone started to beep with messages. You praticaly jumped from the couch to your feet. "I need to go." You said. From the floor, Jungkook looked at you with doe eyes and a pout. "You are leaving again?" "I have something to do... But you can come with me. If you want." "I do." Jungkook jumped on his spot, finishing his cereal as fast as he could. "Then go put on that hoodie I gave you. Is kind of cold out side." You didn't need to say twice. Jungkook ran to his room to obligue, he came back finishing putting on his sweatshirt and putting on his shoes midair. He was so excited, and the look on your face when he took your hand was so affectionate towards him, just like the good dreams sometimes he have. He was intending on livig his best life with you while it lasted, as long as you wanted him, after so many bad, terrible things that he was forced to go through during his short life, Jungkook got used to not waiting for things to really improve, but he also learned to enjoy each of the good moments, whether they were truth or just dreams. Maybe he will wake up at some point and realize that he is still in the shelter ... or in the cold room, using a muzzle ... Until then he will not stop receiving all the affection that you are willing to give. Among the good things he was not expecting to happen, going out for a walk is one of Jungkook's favorite. "I'm ready." He told you with a cheekie smile, even if you could clearly see it for yourself. You just smiled back containing the urge to grab him by the cheeks. So cute. "Do you want a ride home,Yeri?" You picked the keys. "No thanks. Irene will pick me up in half of an hour." She didn't even looked at you to awnser, to busy scrowling throgh her phone. "Ok. Don't forget to lock the door when you leave," Said that you two left the apartment, and Jungkook got your attention all for himself again. ________________________________________________________________________________ It wasn't your plan to spoil Jungkook so much. Of course, you already intended to go shopping with him, and maybe, who knows, give the world to him if he wanted to, but the idea was that things would happen more slowly.  Instead, early in the morning on your way to work, you saw a beautiful jacket in a shop window and thought it would look beautiful on him, without hesitation you went into the store and bought it, and as a bonus some other pieces of clothing for essential use. Now you were supposed to go to the grocerie store, get an order of yours, and that's it. Kess than one hour and you both would be back home. Now its been almost two hours and your SUV is stuffed with shopping bags of clothes and other random things that made Jungkook's eyes sparkles as you strolled in front of shop windows - you let him buy a skate and an air freshener, for exemple. The tour was a big new world for him, clearly he was having fun just running around the store shelves and you had to pull him back into focus more than once. Like when he decided to try on all the hats in a store, first one hat at a time then all at the same time, it was cute, and you took the ones he seemed to like the most and added to his shopping pile without him paying attention. "Jungkook, do you want to choose some underwear? I have no idea what you like or what size you wear..." He was no where to be seen but you knew he was listening to you, especially after a few seconds, when the sound of the new boots you bought him two stores earlier approached fast, and then the hybrid's happy face appeared among the jeans racks beside you. "Oh, this is important, the only underwear I have is drying on my bedroom window." He said starting to look through the pile of new underwear, ignoring all the colored ones, and separating only the black and white ones. "Wait, what?" You blinked at him. "I washed in the shower and didn't know where to leave it, so I hung it in the window." He simply said. You were kind of shocked. "Jungkook... Aren't you wearing underwear? Like right now...?" He just made no with his head, too entertained in choosing several identical boxer briefs.. You looked around to see if anyone around heard it, taken with modesty but finding the situation a little funny. "Did you have more at the shelter? Why didn't you bring it when I said to get your things?" "I had it, but I didn't think about it at the time." You just laughed at him and hurried him so you would soon pay for everything and move on, with the promise of returning to buy more things later. You still needed to go to the grocerie store... Where together you filled a shopping cart with your list - last night he said he wanted to have a barbecue, so you were going to prepare one for him, lots of meat, charcoal and side dishes - and things that Jungkook thought might taste good by the look of it. "Jungkook, you will find some hygiene products for hybrid in this corridor. Take a look and choose, I'll be right back ... ". "Wait." He looked arond. The grocerie store was way bigger than the clothes shops you went before, with a lot more people, he was not comfortable being alone here. How would he know where to find you if you go too far? You read that in his expression and give his hand a squeeze. "I'll just pick a package. Three corridors from here to the right." You poited. "But don't worry I'll be right back. Can you look the cart for me?" "Of couse I can." He said, more confident now. "Thankyou, sugar." You gave him another of those smiles and then left him alone to choose deodorants and soaps for hybrids. But you didn't lie, as fast as you're gone you're back, now with a wrapped paper package in your hands. Out of curiosity Jungkook sniffed the package over your shoulder while you put it in the cart, but for some reason he was unable to identify what could be inside. "Please don't put anything on top of that, it's fragile." You said. "Ready to go?" "Yeah." Jungkook droped one of one soap bar into the cart, not seeing which of the two fragrances he had been choosing before. "What is it?" You gave him a mischievous smile, hooking an arm around his and then guiding him through the corridors to the cashiers. You knew he would be curious, and you specifically asked them to wrap the package in a special paper that will outwit his dog nose. "Its a surprise." Jungkook was convinced. He never had good experiences with the idea of 'surprise', but coming from you he did not imagine anything bad. If you were saying that he was supposed to wait to find out what was in the package, then he was just going to wait. ____________________________________________________________________ When you got home, you parked once again at the back of the building, the light from the florist indicating that although it was time to close, the employees still haven't left. The same thing in the office on the second floor. You thought it would take a lot of coming and going to take all the bags up to the apartment, but while you picked up some and thought it was too much for you, Jungkook picked up almost all the others, hanging them in his arms, and when he left the first batch on living room ran to get the rest alone. It had been a while since he had space to run a litlle, without even being able to remember the last time. He only slowed down when he heard voices on the second floor, adjusted the bags in his hands and tried to go unnoticed. "I want to finish this before call it a day." A soft voice spoke. "But I want to go home. I'm hungry..." Another male voice answered. "More fifteen minutes, Tae." The office door opened just when Jungkook was passing, and he felt like he was caught doing something he shouldn't have, even if he wasn't, two guys looking right at him. The one at the table in front of a computer and stacks of paper smiled and waved at him. The other, holding the door handle, didn't even blink at him, looking serious. Jungkook just bowed his head and continued on his way, stopping only after reaching you in the kitchen. You felt his arms embracing you from behind and his forehead on you sholder. The guy at the table was a hybrid, he couldn't tell what kind, but the smell was like a cat, and probably, since as far as he knows they both work for you, the two shouldn't be bad. Still, Jungkook couldn't make his heart slow down. Men scare him. You turned to look at him. He didn't let you go tho. "What's up?" You asked noticing his distress. Jungkook bited down his bottom lip. "Got tired." You smiled and pet his head for the second time today making him sigh and close his eyes. Without knowing it you made him calm down. "Go put your things on your room, the new clothes in the closet... When you're done, go up to the terrace." "And then we will eat a lot of meat?" "Yep" _______________________________________________ You were just finishing making the vegetable skewers, and putting the meat on the grill when Jungkook went up the stairs to the floor where his room is and the terrace, where he hadn't gone yet. Like the bathroom, the terrace were filled with plants, but here the vases and plants are much bigger. The starry sky was beautiful, and the movement of cars and people on the street is comforting and full of possibilities. Jungkook stopped by the glass door and just looked at you, who didn't noticed him yet. You were now in comfortable clothes and messy hair, drumming his fingers on the table to the beat of a song that was playing only in his head. Once again the thought that you seem inoffensive crossed Jungkook's mind. But that's a lie. You are powerfull in a way he isn't. During the tour of the city he saw your surname in names of shops and street signs more than once, your uncle is an important guy who appears on TV, and your friends do illegal things using guns and bombs... And you are human - and that's enough for you to be scary for any hybrid. You are not harmless, and one thing that would certainly hurt Jungkook hard would be if after today, when he felt at home after years of not knowing what that feeling is like, you decide that you don't want him anymore. That would be worse than every time he thought he was going to die in a fight. Rejection. Like in the shelter, Jungkook was trying to figure it out a way to be loved. To be so loved that someone would want to live with him forever and never leave him. But he doesn't know how to do it. "Do you want some help?" He approached you. "No. Now just don't let the meat burn." You proudly put your hands on your hips. "But I wantou to sit here... and close your eyes." You made him sit by the wooden picnic table and ran inside. He closed his eyes as you said so. You came back with calmer steps and put something in front of him, an instant after the smell of phosphor and sugar entered Jungkook's nose and you said... "You can open it now." In front of Jungkook was a cake with the words "Welcome home JK" written on it and some candles on top. His eyes got wet instantly. "This is an welcome party." You said softly, holding his hand. "And every party need a cake. Surprise, Jungkook." Jungkook wiped away the tears that began to flow with the sleeve of the hoodie - the hoodie that was yours and still smells like you. Seeing that he was crying, you tentatively rubbed a hand on his back and waited for the sobs to pass before you spoke. "Jungkook, we need to have this conversation sooner or later... But I don't want to be your owner." You said and he got freeze. He looked in shock to you and more tears ran down his face. He was so confused. The cake made him so happy and then you said exactly what he was afraid of hearing. A knowing look reached your eyes and you wiped the boy's face yourself. "Don't cry. Let me explain, ok?" He nodded, without realizing that he was holding your hand with all his strength. You couldn't care less. "I never intended on adopting or buying a hybrid. You are the only exception." You smiled sweetly. "When you said you wanted to come with me I couldn't say no. You were so sweet, trusting on me... You are very special to me, even if we've only known each other since yesterday." You took his face in your free hand. "But I'm unable to own a person. It may be strange for you to understand what I am saying now, but my intention in having you with me is for you to be free. If you want to live with me forever, in the simplest way in the world, I will take care of you. If you want to live your life in any other way, even if it is somewhere else, I will also take care of you, and support you. Because the choice is yours. Of course, you don't have to choose anything now. Today or years from now ... It will remain your choice." Jungkook relaxed but remained confused, not knowing how to respond. "What do you want?" He finally said. Your eyes saddened, the thought that your wanting to be more important to him than his own bothering you. "I want to be your friend." His answer seemed to be what Jungkook wanted to hear, because he opened a huge and beautiful smile. "That's enough for me. Can I eat the cake?" "Of couse!" You served him a piece and one for you, chattering like you never cared much for dessert after a meal, and that if he wanted to eat the meat and the cake together you wouldn't judge. His daydreams are cute, he concluded, determined to love you so that you love him. "Y/N... There are a lot of things about me that I don't like, and I know you won't like it either... And I don't like to talk about it, or to think about it at all... But since we are friends I feel like I should... " "That you should tell me?" He nodded. "You dont need to. Jungkook, I already know a lot of bad things about you." You made him freeze again. "Nothing personal, but enough that if it bothered me or changed the way I see you, I wouldn't even have brought you home. But I don't care, and if you don’t feel like sharing it with me now, or ever, okay, you don’t owe it to me just because we’re friends." He smiled to his cake. "Seriously, I have a lot of secrets my friends don't know. You can have yours too." "Thankyou, Y/N. I like you a lot, and I think I want to be with you forever." That was your time to smile to your cake. "So you are stuck with me forever then." Having a friend has always been more important to Jungkook than having a good owner. But for him the only friend he had stayed in the past, he was already sure that it would never happen again and that he was alone for the rest of his life. But now he had you, and that is enough. Regardless of the situation, friends are forever. If you are friends, he doesn't have to be afraid of you kicking him out, even with all the bad things he has done or all the fears he has.

And that good feeling tastes like cake. _____________________________________________________________

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