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pinknerdpanda · 5 years ago

Text

Quarantined

Word Count: 1,368

Characters: Bucky x Reader (kinda), Steve, Sam

Warnings: Fluff, Quarantine shopping, Petulant!Bucky, Bickering Sam and Bucky, Exasperated!Steve, language (obvi)

SSB Square Filled: “I’ve Knocked Out Adolf Hitler over 200 times.” (bolded below)

Requested by: @princessmisery666: “Drabble request - Steve, Sam and Bucky shopping for quarantine supplies!! Let the games (arguments) begin 😘.”

Beta: @shy-violet-soul - you are da bomb dot come, Vy. I loves you!

A/N: I loved this request. I feel like we could all use a little levity given the current circumstances. This is the first time I’ve written Sam or Steve, and only my second time writing Bucky. I hope this makes you smile. Feedback is greatly appreciated! If you’d like to request a drabble (which will decidedly not be a drabble because, words) - see this post.

Quarantined

“Infiltrate, extract and then get the hell out of there.” Steve’s voice was stern as he continued. “Everyone clear?”

The trio before him nodded solemnly, all of them feeling the dregs of weariness creeping in before the mission even began.

“Any questions?”

Bucky squinted at a small scrap of paper clenched in one hand as he raised the other. Steve sighed, but nodded at his friend.

“What the hell is a ‘Clorox wipe’ and why do we need so goddamn many of them?”

Sam choked on a laugh, earning him a terse glare from the former assassin.

“What’s so funny, Big Bird?” Bucky grumbled.

Grinning, Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, his palm stinging slightly from the contact with the metal.

“Man, sometimes I forget just how damn old you are. But then you come in here with all that,” Sam waved a hand in front of a scowling Bucky and continued. “And it all comes rushing back.”

Steve groaned as Bucky launched into a diatribe of curses and insults aimed at Sam. Y/n shot Steve a sympathetic look before a particular string of four letter words made her clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

“Alright, enough. We don’t have time for this. I know this isn’t our usual job, but given the current situation, we don’t exactly have a choice. We are the ones imposing on y/n and she wasn't exactly prepared for us to be staying with her during a quarantine."

Their first reaction to the social distancing mandate had been fraught with eyerolls and grunts of protest. Yes, the serum made Bucky and Steve immune to the virus, but there was no way to know if they could still be carriers. And then there were Sam and y/n who did not have the benefit of super immunity. In the end, they'd all decided it would be best to comply if for no other reason than to be an example to the public. If Captain friggin America was doing his part to stop the spread of the disease, then everyone else should to.

"We should pair off," Steve began. "Bucky - "

"I call dibs on y/n!" Bucky shouted, cutting him off.

"Dibs? Really, Tin Man?" Sam groaned, exasperated.

"Yes, dibs. It's better than having to look at your ugly mugs for the next however-long-this-shit-takes. It's bad enough I have to be stuck in a house with a friggin pigeon -" Bucky jabbed a finger in Sam's direction before aiming it at Steve, “and Mr. ‘I’ve Knocked Out Adolf Hitler over 200 times’ until this thing blows over."

Sam and Steve opened their mouths to protest, but y/n cleared her throat, drawing the gaze of three pairs of guilty eyes.

“Alright, children. If you’re finished, can we please get this over with? Bucky, I’m overlooking the fact that you called ‘dibs’ on me like I’m some kind of possession, solely because I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you and Sam pair up. You two are the actual worst when you’re together.” Y/n plucked the list from Bucky’s fist and a disinfectant wipe from the container beside the door before wiping down the cart and heading inside without sparing another look in his direction.

Bucky sighed. “I swear I’m gonna marry that girl some day.”

“Bold of you to assume she’s into geriatrics with scrambled brains,” Sam groused.

Bucky flipped him off, metal finger gleaming in the sunlight before hurrying inside after her.

-----

“This place is amazing!” Bucky marvelled, gazing up at the towering shelves and running his hand over a 50 pound bag of rice. “Whoa! Look at how huge this is!”

Y/n looked up from her list just in time to see him dump a gallon of ketchup into the cart.

“We do not need that much ketchup, Buck. We have a list. We need to stick to the list.”

Bucky frowned, removing the ketchup and placing it back on the shelf. “You’re no fun, sweetheart.”

Ignoring his whining, y/n proceeded down the aisle in search of the next item on her list: peanut butter. As she perused the options before here, Bucky's attention was drawn to something else.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed.

Y/n turned to find her companion gazing longingly at a five pound bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. She sighed as he directed a pleading look at her. The man was the former Fist of Hydra; a goddamned ghost story until a few years prior. And here he was, in the middle of Sam's club silently begging her for chocolate like a three year old child.

She sighed again. "Go ahead."

Bucky's eyes went wide with excitement as he scooped up two bags and all but flung them into the shopping cart.

"Bucky we do not need 10 pounds of chocolate chips. Put one of them back."

He frowned. "But y/n…"

Holding her hand up, she cut him off. "No buts, James Barnes. Put. One. Back."

Bucky regarded her for a second, his mouth puckered to one side as he chewed the inside of his cheek. She met his petulant stare with one of her own as an elderly couple maneuvered their cart around them. Bucky groaned, stomping his foot and snatching a bag from the cart and tossing it back on the shelf.

"Come on, you big baby. Let's get this over with," she chuckled, tipping her head toward the next aisle.

Falling in step behind her, Bucky grumbled under his breath. "I bet this place doesn't even have any plums."

-----

Thirty minutes and two full shopping carts later, the teams reconvened at the front of the store. Steve's usually tidy hair fell haphazardly over his forehead as though he'd been running his finger through it repeatedly. Sam crossed his arms smugly and leveled Bucky with a teasing glare.

"How'd you do old man?" Sam beamed. "You didn't forget the prunes, did you? You're looking like they could come in handy right about now."

Bucky ground his teeth together, only suppressing a searing reply because he felt y/n squeeze his arm in warning. He raked his gaze over Sam and Steve's cart and balked.

"How come Sam gets a giant box of fruit snacks?" Bucky growls, starting at Steve accusingly.

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes closed. "Dammit, Sam. I told you no fruit snacks."

Sam shrugged, unrepentant. Y/n grimaced, shaking her head sympathetically at the exasperated Captain.

"If Sam gets fruit snacks, I'm getting that gallon of ketchup." Bucky flung his arm behind him, vaguely gesturing toward the condiment aisle.

Y/n jabbed a frustrated finger into his chest, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes, fury darkening her features.

"You have no idea how tempting it is to leave you here." She emphasized each of her words with a corresponding jab to his pectorals.

Behind her Sam snickered and she whirled on him "You too, Bird Man. Look at what you've done to him." She pointed at Steve, his shoulders slumped and his face drawn. "He's supposed to be your friend, you idjits. And now look at him!"

Sam looked at the floor and Bucky scuffed the toe of his boot against the worn tile beneath him.

"Apologize and then Steve and I are leaving you two to check out while we go get pizza and ice cream at the cafe. Frankly we deserve it for having to put up with you two today."

Steve perked up a little at her words. Sam and Bucky shared a look but y/n ignored it and tapped her foot impatiently.

The two men mumbled a half-hearted apology and y/n smiled, satisfied.

"Come on Cap," she tucked her arm in his and began leading him away. "My treat."

Sam and Bucky gaped at the pair's retreating backs. Bucky sighed.

"I think I'm in love, Sam."

Sam chuckled, gripping the handle of one cart as Bucky took the other. Taking their spot in line, the men stood in silence until Bucky cleared his throat.

"Sam?"

Sam hummed in response.

"She called us 'idjits'. What the hell does that mean?"

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all: @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emlostinwonderland @becs-bunker @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @fandomismyspirit @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @charliebradbury1104 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67 @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @bethbabybaby @myfanficlibrarium @akshi8278 @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @sandlee44 @paintrider13-blog @arses21434 @petra-arkanian-1497 @sasbb23 @princessmisery666 @defenderrosetyler

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***If you want to to be removed from my forever tags or just want to be tagged in either MCU or SPN just let me know***

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #MCU fanfic #panda writes

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littlepurinsesu · 5 years ago

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[IDOLiSH7] DUSK TiLL DAWN (Story Translation 4)

*Note: This is a Chinese-to-English translation using the official Chinese translation from the TW server! There’s a small chance that some phrases may differ slightly from the original Japanese text due to different wording and localisation, but overall there shouldn’t be too much of a difference so probably nothing to worry too much about xD

CHARACTERS: Iori: Io Yamato: Yamarson Mitsuki: Mick Tamaki: Tamathony Sogo: Somas Nagi: Nagistopher Riku: Rictor

(I will include the characters’ names in brackets even if they haven’t revealed their names yet, because it would just be too confusing otherwise. I recommend having the game story open as you read so you get a better feel of the characters’ actions and expressions, since I won’t be indicating them here ^^)

---

STAGE 4

00:00

Somas: … It’s so quiet…

Tamathony: It looks like there’s already been a chaotic battle here.

Rictor: Even the lab became like this… this is ridiculous…

Tamathony: Don’t let your guard down.

Somas, Rictor: Okay!

Tamathony: This is Sugar here. We’ve arrived at the lab. There are signs of battle here. Over.

Tamathony: This is Sugar here. Please respond if you hear!

Tamathony: Dammit! The radio isn’t working.

Rictor: Ah… This place has cut off all radio waves from outside, so we can’t get in contact with the outside world.

Tamathony: What? Is this for real. Then how do we meet up with them?

Yamarson: Urgh…

Somas: Yamarson…! Are you okay?

Rictor: We’ll get there in a little bit, please hang in there!

Yamarson: … Mm, sorry…

Tamathony: Anyway, we need to quickly continue moving ahead, otherwise things aren’t looking good for him.

Somas: Yes… Don’t know if Io is doing okay.

Tamathony: He has Captain and the others there with him, so there won’t be any problem. Our Captain is super strong! And super cool! Mick is also really agile, and very good at finding the right moment to attack the enemies’ weaknesses.

Somas: You really trust them.

Tamathony: That goes without saying, we’re comrades!

<ROAR>

Somas: Ah! There are Gathereds over there…!

Rictor: Everyone, come this way! Be careful, try not to get found out… Woah…!

<ROAR>

Rictor: Woaahh!

Tamathony: You really fall over a lot. You okay?

Rictor: S-Sorry…! They found me!

Tamathony: That’s alright~ I’m really strong, and su~per smart!

<CLICK>

Tamathony: You guys~! Computers aren’t supposed to be worn on your head!

01:15

Rictor: Huff… Th-This is the place!

Yamarson: Huff, huff…

Tamathony: Oi, it’s not looking good over here!

Rictor: H-How can this be…! The vaccine in the cabinet is gone!

Tamathony: What!?

Yamarson: It… It can’t be…

Somas: How did it end up like this… We went through so much to come this far…

Rictor: Speaking of, when we first arrived, the security system was already deactivated. Someone took the vaccine away!

Yamarson: Urgh…

<THUMP>

Somas: Yamarson! Please hang in there!

Tamathony: H-Hey you, isn’t there some other way! Can’t you make a new vaccine!

Rictor: The knowledge I possess isn’t enough to create one…! I only know that there was originally a vaccine here…

Tamathony: Ah! What about that painkiller from before!

Rictor: That was the last one I had left…

Somas: Didn’t the doctors tell you anything! Like whether or not there’s a spare vaccine or something…!

Rictor: The doctors… Umm~ Uhh~ When faced with difficulty, I have to first clear my head… No, go back to the beginning… I have to go back to the beginning…!

Somas: The beginning?

Rictor: Yes, the doctors often told me… when I’m facing difficulties, I have to return to the roots. I can’t just use my brain to think, I have to be down-to-earth… This way, I can find the answer… down-to-earth*!

Somas: Eh?

Rictor: The ground! It’s the ground!

Somas: The ground? The floor?

Rictor: Yes! Maybe there’ll be some clue on the floor! Is there anything on the floor somewhere…

Yamarson: ….. Urgh.

Tamathony: Oi, hang in there!

Yamarson: Urgh urgh…

Tamathony: Dammit! I’ll keep an eye on him, you guys hurry up and search for a clue…!

Somas: I understand!

Rictor: !? There’s a green rose… G-Got it…! I found it!

<EEEEP>

Somas: S-So cool…! This feels super important!

Tamathony: Hurry up and get the vaccine!

<THUMP>

Yamarson: Urgh, m-my head…!

Tamathony: Th-Things really aren’t looking good! Hurry, hurry!

Rictor: I-I’ll open it now!

<EEEEP>

Rictor: P-Password…!? Why! Uh… I-Is it those two people’s names…?

<BE-BEEEEP>

Rictor: Ah, it’s not right! Why, why!

Somas: Rictor, there’s a number “2” displayed here, does this mean our turns will decrease?

Rictor: Eh! There is! There’s a turn limit!? There are only two turns left… What do we do, I don’t know the password!

<THUMP>

Yamarson: Woaaahhhhh…!

Tamathony: ! Oi, you! Don’t move!

Somas: Yamarson! Rictor! Yamarson can’t hang on much longer!

Rictor: Ah~ Seriously! Uh, lemme think… My name…

<BE-BEEEEP>

Rictor: Wh-What do we do! This isn’t right either…!

Yamarson: —Woah…!

Tamathony: Dammit! What kind of strange energy does he have! Please! Hurry up!

Somas: Tamathony, just a little bit more, please keep him under control for just a bit more!

Tamathony: Argh…!

Rictor: Wh-What do we do…? There’s only one more chance… (I don’t know. What should I do, Doctor…!)

<THUNK>

Rictor: Ah… the magic spell, Clean Air antivirus mask.

Somas: Eh…?

Rictor: Giving it a shot…

Tamathony: Uh, oi! You sure! Isn’t there only one more chance left?

Rictor: Mm, I’m gonna try with this! I believe in the doctors!

<BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…>

<BE-BEEP… CLINK>

Somas: Great…! It’s open! Rictor, the box is open!

Rictor: Huff, huff… great…

Yamarson: Ur… Urgh… Woaaahhhhh…!!

Tamathony: I say, hurry up! Please hurry up—!

Rictor: I-I’m coming! Yamarson, I’m gonna give you the vaccine!!

???: Give the shot…

???: I’m going to make you…

???: … Sorry.

???: Urgh… Urrggghhhhh…!!

<ROAR…!!>

Yamarson: …

Tamathony, Somas, Rictor: …

Yamarson: Urgh… Cough cough…

Rictor: … Yamarson.

Yamarson: I-I’ve been saved, right…?

Somas: This is great…!

Tamathony: Huff~ So tired~~

Yamarson: … Sorry. Thank you guys…

Tamathony: I really thought it was all over before.

Somas: The vaccine took effect very quickly…!

Rictor: It truly is the doctors’ vaccine!

Tamathony: Alright! Then let’s take this vaccine and go join the others!

Somas: Okay!

Rictor: Yamarson, can you move?

Yamarson: Mm, no problem, thank you. (… What was up with that just before…)

<ROAR>

Rictor: Eh! W-What…?

Yamarson: Monsters again!?

Somas: It sounds the same as the one back at the underground subway…

Tamathony: Why is there no end to this! Can’t I get a break!

<ROAR>

Somas: They’re gathering over here!

Yamarson: There are at least five or six…

Tamathony: Oi oi oi… I’m out of battery. I can’t move without pudding drink~

Yamarson: O-Oi! You’re the only one here that knows real combat…

Tamathony: Pudding drink…

Somas: W-Why has he suddenly become like a child…

Rictor: Tamathony! Hang in there…!

<ROAR>

Yamarson: O-Oi! They’re coming…!

Tamathony: I~ can’t do it anymore~

Yamarson: Are you still considered a part of the special forces unit like this!

Tamathony: I was always the brains~ I don’t like moving my body~

Somas: How can this be…

Yamarson: … Hey, let me ask you, is this the only path we can take?

Rictor: Eh, are you asking me? Uh… lemme think…

<ROAR>

Yamarson: Dammit…!

Somas: Yamarson!

<STAB>

Yamarson: I just feel that it’s a bit embarrassing to keep being protected by you guys…!

<THUNK>

Tamathony: Oh~ You’re pretty good, huh.

Yamarson: I didn’t think I’d use what I learned in the boxing hall here…!

Somas: So amazing…!

<ROAR>

Yamarson: I’ll try to go up against them! Please, Rictor, try to think back and remember!

Rictor: … Ah…! There’s a pathway, even though it’s a roundabout way, we can still go around them!

Yamarson: Okay, then we’ll take that path!

Rictor: Okay! This way!

03:45

<BANG>

Rictor: Huff, huff… F-Finally defeated them…

Somas: G-Great… Rictor, you’re getting better and better at using a gun.

Rictor: Io taught me. He suggested that I take a deep breath, and then relax my shoulders.

Somas: So that’s how it is! Io is also really good at teaching people after all.

Rictor: Yes! I must thank Io when I meet him later. Somas, are you used to using a pistol?

Somas: No, I only used it once during training.

Rictor: O-Only once, and you’re already…!?

Yamarson: … I say, we’ve been walking for a while, we haven’t arrived at the exit yet…?

Rictor: Sorry, this path is a little roundabout…

Yamarson: Ah, no, that’s not what I meant…

Tamathony: I say, you’ve completely recovered.

Yamarson: I just want to get out quickly!

Rictor: Ah! We’ll almost be there after that corner!

Somas: Tamathony, let’s hang in there together. Now that Yamarson has recovered, we’re successfully moving towards a happy ending!

<ROAR>

Tamathony: Happy ending, huh~

Yamarson: The sound is getting louder and louder.

Somas: The sound seems to be coming from up ahead…

Rictor: There’s still more here even when we’re so deep inside…

Tamathony: I say~ What’s up ahead?

Rictor: Up ahead is the most important confidential area. Only a small number of people can enter. I haven’t entered before either, so I don’t know what’s inside.

Tamathony: Since you’ve never entered, how do you know we can go back through here?

Rictor: Because the doctors have shown me the floor plan for the lab, saying that it could be useful when necessary…

Yamarson: Even if you’ve seen the floor plan, this facility’s area isn’t small. During the whole journey, you didn’t get lost even once.

Rictor: Yes, I memorized it all in my brain.

Yamarson: …

Rictor: Yamarson?

Yamarson: It’s not that I don’t believe you… but you’re not trying to lure us to some place… right?

Rictor: Ehh!? How could I do something like that! Why would I do that…

Somas: Th-That’s right! He saved your life just before.

Yamarson: … That’s true. Sorry.

Tamathony: By the way, everyone in the W.R.U. is as smart as me! I also have photographic memory **.

Somas: You two are both amazing!

Tamathony: Heh heh! But this actually isn’t a big deal for us~

Yamarson: Rictor, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suspected you. I couldn’t help but think of things from a negative perspective.

Rictor: It’s fine…

Tamathony: Anyway, we need to quickly get into that confidential area, right?

Rictor: Yes. But I don’t have permission, so I’m not sure if we can get in…

Somas: Maybe the security system here will be deactivated just like before, so we’ll be able to enter.

Rictor: That could be true…

Somas: Let’s go and see.

<ROAR>

Tamathony: Oh~ Oh~! It’s super loud.

Yamarson: I have a bad feeling about this…

Somas: The sound is coming from that door. It feels like we’re finally going to meet the final boss!

Yamarson: The door’s open…? (Why is the security system so conveniently deactivated every time…? Does this commotion have something to do with the people in the lab…?)

Rictor: The rose mark… The doctors’ research room…?

Somas: Rictor?

Rictor: You guys go on ahead!

Tamathony: What?

Rictor: Turn the corner here and keep going straight ahead, and you’ll arrive at a door that will lead to the subway tracks!

Yamarson: What do you mean by asking us to go on ahead first!

Somas: Yeah! Why are you saying this all of a sudden?

Rictor: This place… This door has the mark of the green rose… This is the doctors’ mark.

Tamathony: So what?

Rictor: I didn’t see the doctors in the hospital. But, if… there are any clues here that could lead me to find the doctors, then I want to search. No matter how small the clues are, as long as it’s to do with the doctors… (Please, Doctors, please let me find clues to prove that you guys aren’t related to this commotion…)

Somas: Even if that’s the case, it’s too dangerous for you to go alone! I’ll go, too!

Yamarson: Oi, is this for real… Are you guys being serious!?

Somas: We’ve already come so far together, so we’ll definitely be there until the end! I made a promise with Io that we’d all live on together and move towards a happy ending!

Rictor: Somas…

Tamathony: … True, I also made a promise with Captain. And plus, I haven’t finished analyzing this underground area.

Yamarson: This…

Tamathony: Then what do you want to do, Yamarson?

Yamarson: Wh-What I want to do…? Sigh, seriously, with this current situation, I don’t really have any other choice…

Somas: Then let’s go together! If anything happens, you have to show us your cool knife skills again!

Yamarson: Seriously… I got it. Same with you, show us your gun skills, too. (And also, the sound I heard at that time… I feel like I recognize it… Maybe I can find out something by entering.)

Tamathony: Alright, then let’s quickly enter, and quickly put an end to all this!

Rictor: Guys… Th-Thank you all…!

Somas: We can’t miss a last dungeon*** like this! Right, Yamarson!

Yamarson: … This guy, his head really is a little strange.

Rictor: Then, guys, if you please!

Tamathony: Okay~!

*The second “down-to-earth” is written directly in English, hence the repetition.

**A more accurate and word-for-word translation of what Tamathony says would have been “I, too, can look at something once and not forget it.” I took it as though he meant something like photographic memory, and it makes the sentence sound less awkward, too :)

***This sentence makes no sense in Chinese, either. The most plausible meaning I can come up with is that Somas is referring to the zombies/Gathereds as “copies,” and they’re going to meet the final one? If not, then it might have been an error from when they did the official Japanese-to-Chinese translation. Either way I’ve just gone ahead and translated it as it is because I really don’t know what they’re trying to get at xD If someone knows what Somas says in the Japanese text and has a better translation, please let me know! ^^ EDIT: Thank you to @darkfirefae for providing me with a screenshot of the original Japanese text ^^ The translation “final copy” has been corrected and updated to “last dungeon” instead! (It finally makes sense haha xD)

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Stage 1 | Stage 2 | Stage 3 | STAGE 4 | Stage 5

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suedescripture · 7 years ago

Text

Spoopy Words

Today is for creepy sexy supernatural creatures, so we write Genie!fic.

“Okay, terms, then,” he sat back, readying himself, “Give it to me.”

“First,” Zach began, “I can only appear to and do the bidding of the bearer of that bottle.”

Chris held up the bottle to the light. “So if anyone else touches it…?”

“If they touch it with desire in their heart, your claim is forfeit, and I will belong to the new bearer,” Zach glanced back at the bottle, “So if you value your claim, you should keep it close. You’d be surprised how many times a former Master’s housekeeper suddenly becomes filthy rich. Also, I can’t leave the vicinity of the bottle, nor can I touch it myself, I must come out and return to it as you bid me, no one else but you can see me, yada yada,” he gave a sulky huff, “But seriously, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t make me stay inside all the time.”

“‘Phenomenal cosmic power, itty bitty living space?’” Chris quoted with a big grin complete with Robin William’s impression.

Zach just looked confused, “What?”

“Never mind,” Chris cleared his throat. “Okay, what next?”

“Like I said, I can’t affect the Free Will of anyone,” said Zach, “Meaning, I can’t force you or anyone else to fall in love, to kill someone, or otherwise make a decision they don’t come to of their own accord.”

“So how do you grant wishes, then?”

“I influence events as they play out, alter perceptions, make certain things seem more desirable or more revolting than they are in reality. I can also make and change material things. Money, possessions, appearance.”

“How?”

Zach rolled his eyes, “I’m a magician. I do magic.”

“Yeah, but,” Chris said, “You set yourself on fire, that was real, I could feel it.”

“Humans are incredibly easy to manipulate. You saw flame, therefore you believed you felt a heat intense enough to burn. Your kind jump to conclusions so easily, and without forethought. It makes you gullible,” he grinned sharply, prowling to the nearer end of the sofa, within reach of Chris’ chair and reaching out toward Chris’ chin. “For instance, these scars on your face. How did you acquire them?”

Chris frowned and reddened, embarrassed, “It’s… I had bad acne as a kid. You aren’t supposed to pick at it, but—”

Suddenly the genie pounced, shushing him as he crouched over Chris in the armchair. His hot hands cupped Chris’ cheeks, thumb stroking over the pitted spots, fingertips brushing parts of his face almost tenderly: his eyebrow, his jaw, his ear. “I said that I influence human desire, Christopher. Yours, or the desires of others, to your benefit. Whether you use it for good or evil is your call.”

Chris swallowed, as startled by the creature straddling over his chair as he was by the gentleness of his touch, the glitter of his eyes. They weren’t black as he’d previously thought, but more of a warm coffee brown. Once the genie withdrew, he handed Chris a mirror, one that evoked a vague memory of his grandma’s dressing table and all the baubles and potions on its surface, something he surely didn’t own. But in the reflection, his face looked…

He looked kind of amazing. It was him, but another version: different, altered, photoshopped. His skin was smooth and clean, jawline strong, with stubble that wasn’t patchy, no angry redness speckling his chin. The scars were there, but somehow diminished, blurred. Even the mole by his ear was less noticeable. But it was all still his own face, fully recognizable.

“Huh,” he touched his face, in awe that he could look this good. “Wait, does this use up one of my wishes?”

“No. It’s a glamour,” Zach said, then elaborated at Chris’ blank look. “An illusion. Humans, I have found, respond best to nearly flawless beauty. Like the form I take for you now. Nearly flawless, you understand. Humanity idolizes the idea of perfection, but when confronted with it’s truth, usually it freaks you out.”

“I guess,” Chris muttered, studying this new look on his face. “Not always, though. So how come you didn’t come to me looking like Barbara Eden?” he hitched up one corner of his mouth.

“I prefer to take a form that is a reflection of my Master’s unconscious desires in human skin.”

“And this is my unconscious desire?” Chris waved a hand at Zach skeptically. “A hairy sassmaster in a loincloth?”

Zach smirked, “You might be surprised what I can dig out of that primitive little brain of yours.”

Chris looked back at his own altered face in the mirror, frowning.

“Can you put it back?” he asked, touching the place where the biggest scar used to be, now blurred under stubble.

“Do you want me to?”

Chris looked at his reflection again. No. He didn’t want to be that guy, didn’t want to succeed just because of his looks, or rely on his looks to succeed. He had talent, dammit, and intelligence. And he’d done it all on his own so far. “Yeah. Yeah, change it back.”

Zach casually waved his hand, and when he looked in the mirror again, his face looked like he remembered, looked like him, zits and all.

#wordplay as foreplay #careful what you wish for #genie!fic

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coffeeandcas · 8 years ago

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Cherry Pie

AO3 Link

Based on this prompt: Waiter!Dean: Would you like anything from the menu sir? Customer!Cas: Are you in it?

"Would you like anything from the menu, sir?"

Cas starts as a menu is thrust in front of his face, tearing his attention away from the pile of papers in front of him, and he glances up into the most dazzling green eyes he thinks he's ever seen. He was about to say ‘no, just coffee’ but the words die in his throat at the sight of his waiter. Well, shit. If he isn't the most devastatingly handsome man on the face of the planet. Sandy, dark blonde hair, lean muscles visible under a tight t-shirt and the hunt of a tattoo on his pec peeking out from the v-neck, narrow waist which is hugged by the ties of a charcoal apron, incredible forearms and defined hands, which are currently holding out a laminated sheet of card to Castiel. The waiter smiles, and Cas wonders idly, dreamily, if this is what they mean by love at first sight. Because dammit to hell, this guy looks designed and created to break Castiel’s heart.

“I'm not sure yet…” Cas struggles to form words properly. This guy is unbelievable. How is it legal for anyone to be so handsome? “Are you in it?”

Wait, what did he just say?

“I'm sorry?” The waiter looks taken aback, a mixture of shock and amusement creasing his gorgeous face, and Castiel fights the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. Shit. He's an idiot. Too much coffee, not enough sleep, and his brain decides to go haywire as soon as a cute guy steps into his vicinity. Isn't that just typical.

“No-no, I'm sorry…” Cas hastens to redeem himself. “I'm very tired. I meant, it depends what's in it. Can I have a look and…let you know?” Cas rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, finally tearing his gaze from the beautiful green eyes to stare down at the laminated menu in his hands - the thing looks to be in another language, his sleep-deprived and humiliation-fuelled brain can't understand a word of it. He gives up, and looks back up to the most aesthetically perfect person on the planet for help.

The waiter smiles, grins in fact, and Cas can't help but notice the smattering of freckles across his nose and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. His name tag reads ‘Dean’ and Cas thinks he looks like a Dean. Fun, sexy, smart, just a bit cheeky.

“Want recommendations?” Dean seems to magic a coffee pot from nowhere and refills Cas’ mug. “You look like you've had a long day.”

“Yeah, kind of.” Cas has had a long day. He's had back-to-back meetings, a face-off with a disgruntled ex-client, and now he's sitting in this diner for one reason only: he's locked himself out of his apartment and the only person with a spare key lives four hours away. His brother Gabriel is on his way, but with Gabe’s penchant for getting distracted by everything that moves it could mean Castiel is stuck here all night. All he wants is a warm shower and the comfort of his bed. All he wanted, he amends with a thrill of excitement as Dean meets his eyes and grins at him again. Suddenly being stuck here doesn't seem quite so unappealing…

“OK. I don't know what you're in the mood for…” You, Cas thinks absently. You'll do nicely. “But the bacon cheeseburgers are really good, so is the PB&J milkshake. I know, it sounds weird but trust me. It's so good. Then for dessert, the cherry pie is…” Dean closes his eyes in rapture and places a hand on his chest. “Out of this world. Seriously. You have to try it.”

“Sure,” Cas is momentarily distracted by the gesture Dean has made, and can't stop his exhausted brain from picturing Dean closing his eyes and sighing in rapture at something entirely different. “That all sounds great.” He hands the menu back with a smile.

“Really?” Dean’s eyes light up. “Dude, you're going to be in heaven, I promise. The food in here is so good.” He moves to turn away then, after a second’s hesitation says: “How come I haven't seen you in here before? You just passing through?”

“No, I, uh,” Cas simply cannot come out with the truth. That he lives across the street but has always avoided the diner because it didn't look to live up to his tastes which include fine wine and five-star dining experiences. That he's only stumbled in here because he's locked out of his damn house and is too tired to go anywhere else and figured that the coffee probably wouldn't poison him. He can't say that. His social skills aren't so devastatingly awful that he doesn't realise how offensive that would be. “I live around here. I just work a lot. I don't get out to eat that often.”

“I see.” Dean watches him with a small smirk twisting his lips. The door jangles and that's his cue to go and attend to other folks, much to Castiel’s irritation. “Well, I hope you find more free time. It's not often we get cute guys coming in here.” Then with a wink, a fucking wink, he meanders away and Cas is left staring at the sway of his hips and the slight bow-leggedness to his gait and wondering why the hell he has never come in here before. And back up a second, Dean thinks he's cute? Well, he will definitely be coming in here more often, that's for certain. Judging by the name of the diner, he guesses this Dean must be the owner.

He sends a quick text to his brother, telling him he's found somewhere to get dinner so no rush, then thinks he should probably tackle some more work, despite his exhaustion and the fact that it's well after 9pm. He tries to focus back on the paperwork in front of him, but in no time at all his food has arrived and Dean is grinning down at him once more with those dazzling emerald eyes.

“Here ya go. Enjoy!”

Cas shifts a few of his possessions around until he's comfortable enough to tuck in. His trench coat and jacket are folded neatly next to him, files of paperwork organised and put back into his briefcase, and his phone sits silently on the table next to his perspiring glass of PB&J shake, which he takes a tentative sip of. Damn, that is good. Weird, definitely, but good. He doesn't even really like peanut butter, so it's saying something. The burger looks incredible as well, all melted cheese and greasy goodness, and although Cas normally wouldn't touch something so unhealthy with a barge pole the ache in his stomach overrides everything and he tucks in greedily. Dean is right: heaven. As he eats, he takes in the decor. Jukebox in the corner playing old rock and roll tracks, framed vinyls on the walls, and sketches of Chevy Impala’s line the wall behind the bar. The bar which is well-stocked with admittedly pretty good alcohol. Cas feels a twinge of contrition; he probably judged this place too harshly. It's comfortable, cosy, and definitely a place to relax.

He polishes off the burger in no time, savouring his milkshake and trying to remember the last time he had food this good. It's not fine dining by any means, but it's so good. Hearty, comfort food and Cas is a little disappointed to have finished his burger so soon. Before he can look around for his waiter, Dean wanders over to him with an apprehensive smile.

“Any good?”

“Hell yes.” Cas grins at him and Dean visibly relaxes. “Amazing. My compliments to your chef.”

“I'll certainly pass those on. Sammy does have some great skills when it comes to flipping burgers,” Dean winks again and saunters off with the empty plate in his hand. Moments later, he's back with a huge slice of delicious-looking cherry pie which smells incredible, and Cas’ mouth waters. Dean watches him with a smirk, tells him to enjoy, and heads back to his other tables. Cas again watches him go, feeling more and more attracted to the guy as every interaction passes. Dean is exactly Castiel’s type, but it's been a while since he dated so his skills are a little rusty. He hopes he isn't imagining that Dean might like him too; or perhaps he's this flirty with all his patrons?

“So?” Dean materialises above him after a time with another dazzling smile, displaying straight, perfect white teeth. “What did you think?”

“Amazing.” Cas leans back in his chair, eyeing his empty plate with regret. “I could eat all of that again, and more.”

“Yeah?” Dean is all crinkly eyes and happy smiles. “Good, I'm always glad when my recommendations are well-received. Keeps the staff happy, too. Can I get anything else for you?”

And Cas may be a tad socially inept, but he doesn't miss the subtle nuance of flirtation in Dean’s tone. Their eyes meet and a brief burst of electricity crackles between them.

“Just the, um, bill. I think. For now.”

Dean’s eyebrow quirks but his smile doesn't fade. “Coming right up.”

He sweeps the empty plate and glass from the table and vanishes, and Cas hopes he didn't take his words as a rejection. Dean is definitely someone he wants to get to know better. But not tonight.

Cas sits back and massages his temples, feeling relief flood through him at the gesture. As lovely as it is to sit here and talk to Dean, his head is minutes away from hitting the table and it would be great if Gabriel showed up around now. As if on cue, his phone bleeps and he glances out of the window to see his brother’s sleek black Audi idling on the pavement outside his apartment building. He waves, sends a quick reply to the ‘I'm here, where the fuck are you?’ text message and gathers his things. The next thing he knows, Dean is back and shoving a folded piece of paper under his nose. Cas goes to open it, simultaneously reaching for his wallet, but Dean’s hand covers his and he freezes, skin tingling warmly from the sensation of the other man’s touch.

“Thanks for stopping by. You should really come back again soon; the pecan pie is almost as good as the cherry.” Dean’s eyes are dark and his smile sweet, but with a sinful promise. Cas swallows, tries to calm his heart rate and feels Dean rub circles onto the back of his hand and his smile is absolutely, definitely flirtatious. “Check the bill is OK and if it is…well, you know where to find me.”

He retreats back towards the bar and vanishes and Cas, a little mystified by his words, opens the folded sheet and reads.

‘Hot guy like you? I just couldn’t decide how much to charge. Call me and we can…discuss. Dean W.’

His phone number follows and Cas huffs out a laugh at how brazen the note is. When he looks up to question Dean, the other man is nowhere to be seen in the slowly emptying diner, leaving Cas with the only option to gather his things and go out to see Gabriel. He folds the note in his pocket, a shy smile playing at his lips.

He gets the feeling, as he pushes his way through the door and out into the street, that he might be spending a lot more of his time sampling the food at Dean’s Place over the next few weeks…

#dean winchester #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel drabble #tumblr prompt #prompt #prompt fill #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #cas #castiel

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thepatricktreestump · 8 years ago

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Forever : Patrick Stump imagine

Y/N: Sorry if my posting schedule has been kinda funky lately, my life’s been weird. Anyways, here’s one for you guys! Xoxo thank you so much for all the love

Anonymous said: Hi, could you do a Patrick Stump X Reader smut where they both really like each other but don't say and one night she kisses him and then they have really needy and clingy sex and he's moaning so much thank u

*female reader smut, going to write this one a little differently than most of my different POV ones, I hope you like it, it’s my first time doing something directly from the view point of someone else

Y/N POV

He’s handsome. Absolutely perfect. Every time you stare at him it’s like the entire world stops. He’s kind of clumsy and a little nerdy, but he’s amazing. He’s got this dorky fedora and this million-dollar smile, a warm heart and even better hugs, blonde hair that’s usually disheveled, kind eyes, and he’s a bit on the short side, but you don’t mind. He can sing like nobody knows, he plays almost every instrument known to man, he can speak different languages, and you easily call him your best friend. Every time he touches you it’s like you melt, like the entire world is spinning, like you’re flying and feeling the wind soothe your skin, the air swirl around you, everything else fading away beneath you. He’s sweet licorice and sunshine filtering through windows and teddy bear cotton and the lyrics of your favorite song. But you can’t tell him. It’s never the right time. There’s usually someone else there, or doubt lingering in your mind, him leaving too early, or awkward silence hanging in the air. You want to tell him, sometimes you feel like you need to, but your lips never listen to your brain. You hate it.

It’s a Friday night when Pete calls you up. You’re good friends with Pete, although you’ve never really shown any romantic interest in him. He’s a player, usually has a different girl every other week, likes to party, and much less, wouldn’t go for someone as conserved and quiet as you. “I don’t know,” you tried to stall. “Netflix looks really tempting right now.”

“Come on, y/n,” Pete insisted. “There will be margaritas.”

“I do love myself a good margarita,” you hummed in approval.

“Patrick will be there,” he hinted.

“Patrick doesn’t go to wild parties,” you argued.

“He’s coming to this one,” Pete explained. “I promise he’ll be there.”

“What else?” you questioned.

“Professional DJ,” he added. “What else do you want?”

“I’ll be there,” you decided. What you didn’t tell him was that ever since he mentioned Patrick’s name, the decision was already immediately switched. If there was any chance you could hang out with Patrick, you’d sure as hell take it.

“Cool,” you practically hear Pete’s smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

Picking up your phone and putting your favorite playlist on shuffle, you waltzed to the bathroom, fixing your hair and slipping on a nice dress, then proceeding to examine yourself in the mirror and try to make yourself look nice. You shot Patrick a text, telling him that you’d be at Pete’s party soon and you’d be excited to see him there, and then hopped in your car a couple hours later and arrived. Like every party Pete throws, it’s the usual. An outrageous amount of people, music way too loud for anyone’s liking, and of course, an entire counter worth of alcohol. You looked around the room and then spotted Patrick in a corner, looking out of place, fixing his collar awkwardly and standing alone. You grinned at the sight of him, picking up two Solo cups from the counter and pushing your way through the crowd towards him, then greeting him happily. “Hey Patrick!” you shouted loud enough above the music even though you were only a couple feet away, handing him a drink.

“Hey!” his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you. “Uh, how you doing y/n?”

“Pretty good now that I’ve found you,” you laughed, taking a swig of your drink. “You?”

“I’m doing great,” he nodded.

“I’m happy to hear that,” you gave a light smile. “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Yeah,” he managed a chuckle. “I wouldn’t have come, but Pete told me you’d be here.”

“Oh really?” you raised your eyebrows.

“How come?” he laughed. “You look shocked.”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. You eyed the crowd carefully, searching for Pete. You should’ve known he would set something like this up.

“Uh, um, I got to go,” Patrick stammered. “I just remembered something.”

“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay.”

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“No, it’s fine,” you reassured, trying to hide your disappointment, but still unable to wash away the frown from your face.

“I just um, I have to leave,” he explained. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you nodded slowly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Goodbye,” he waved, finishing his drink and then walking off, leaving you alone. You scanned the room, looking for a familiar face, Pete even, but found none. You hated parties, hated crowds, hated stupid pop music, hated all of this. The only reason you came here was for Patrick and he barely even stayed an hour. You pulled out your phone, debating whether or not to text him. Hell, he probably wasn’t even out the door yet and you were already missing him. You called yourself pathetic, forcing yourself to put your phone back in your pocket and try to forget about him, sipping on your drink instead, alone in the corner of the room, surrounded by a sea of strangers.

PATRICK POV

She’s gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. Every time I stare at her it’s like the entire world stops. Maybe it’s the way her hair frames her face, how her eyes sparkle when she talks, when her voice is so soothing I could just fall asleep at the sound of it, or how every time she touches me I feel as if my blood is gasoline and her skin is a warm flame. She ignites me with this fire, makes me feel emotions I didn’t even know I possessed, makes me want to love her with every single particle within me. But I can’t tell her. I can’t seem to tell her because we’re never alone. It’s always a party or a practice or someone walking in, never enough time or space, or in the rare instances we actually are one on one, I chicken out and find an excuse to leave.

That’s why when we’re at Pete’s house on a Friday night, I turn too shy. We’re somewhat alone in a corner, sipping on drinks, she’s telling me something and I’m laughing, acting carefree and happy, but on the inside, I am freaking out. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I slip up? What if I’m annoying her? I look around the room nervously and apologize, tell her that I forgot to do something, that I have to leave. The smile on her face falters a little bit, and she nods her head, as if she understands me, tells me that she’ll talk to me later. I take a deep breath, tell her goodbye, and then leave. When I get in my car I can’t believe myself. I need to stop doing that, need to stop running, need to shrug off my anxiety and doubt and worry and just fucking kiss her for god’s sake but I never can. There’s always the shaking in my hands or the trembling lips or the itch on my back or the churning feeling in my stomach and I hate it. I hate it so much because I should still be at that party, but I shouldn’t be three feet away holding a drink and pretending we’re just friends. I should be there, arms wrapped around her body, my lips on hers, fingers tangled in her hair, eyes lost within her gaze, dancing to the music, telling her that I love her. Instead I’m driving home, biting down on my lower lip so hard that it bleeds, hating myself because I’m never brave enough to do any of that.

I got home and decided to turn on the television, try to forget about what happened, about what a pathetic loser I am, instead just relax into the couch cushions and fall asleep. However, I felt a buzzing in my pocket and I realized it’s her. She’s texting me and it hasn’t even been an hour. She probably feels bad for me. I rolled my eyes, thinking I’m probably ridiculous, and decide to see what she sent. So much for trying to forget about her. “Hey Patrick,” she’s sent me, with a smiley face. I couldn’t help but smile, deciding to turn down the television just a bit so I can focus better, before shooting her a reply.

“Sorry I left,” I quickly apologized. I was surprised at how fast she responded, but don’t complain.

“It’s fine,” she reassured.

“How’s the party going?” I inquired.

“Eh, it’s okay,” she answered. I imagined her shrugging in my head, giving one of those half smiles like she always does, taking another sip of her drink. Dammit, why the hell did I even decide to leave? I’m an idiot. “Would be better if you were here.”

“Yeah,” is all I managed to reply, instead closing my eyes tight and sinking farther into the cushions of the couch, wishing I could just disappear. No wonder I never do things right.

“I can’t find Pete anywhere,” she quickly sent, making me question whether she was even there for me. Pete and her had been pretty close anyways, and he always had a better chance with the girls than I ever did. I didn’t want to break her heart, but I decide to tell her the truth, which she honestly probably has already figured out by now.

“He’s most likely with some girl in an upstairs bedroom,” I told her, which makes her respond with laughing emoticons. It’s then that I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to see her words flash on a screen in uniform text, watch her emotions be translated through little yellow circles, try and hold a conversation without being able to look at the sparkle in her eyes. Without thinking, I send the next few words, and then hop in my car, deciding to drive back immediately. “I’ll be there soon. I’m coming back.” What I didn’t know is that my stupid self never actually hit the send button, instead, leaving the words sitting in a text box on the screen, waiting to be delivered, and y/n not knowing at all.

Y/N’S POV

Ever since Patrick left the party, you hadn’t really been enjoying yourself. Sure, there was music and lots of people, but it just wasn’t your type of scene. You had looked around a couple times for Pete, going through the hallways and even venturing outside, but couldn’t find him. You pulled out your phone, tempted to text Patrick, but decided against it. That’s stupid, you didn’t need to be so clingy. Much less, he probably left because you were ignoring him anyways. He didn’t like you. You took a deep breath and decided to head back inside, get another drink, and then leave. However, it didn’t go quite as easily as you hoped it would be. As soon as you picked up a Solo cup from the counter, a boy a little taller than you approached you, dark eyes and messy spiked hair. “Hey there gorgeous,” he greeted with a sly smile that spelled trouble. “I’m Jack.”

“Hello,” you replied nervously, eyes looking around twice as desperate.

“You come here with anybody else?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Uh yeah,” you nodded.

“Where’d they go?” he inquired.

“They left actually,” you admitted.

“Well that sucks,” he frowned, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed, eyeing him carefully. He had ripped jeans and a shirt that read the word boner. Honestly, probably not the best first impression.

“Well I’d love to learn your name,” he hinted.

“Oh,” you gave a hesitant chuckle. “I’m y/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed.

“Yeah,” you slowly nodded your head, growing uncomfortable. You quickly pulled out your phone, deciding that this was the last straw, finally going to text Patrick. You sent a simple hey, then slid the phone back in your pocket, praying he’d respond soon. You needed something or someone to distract you, you were never that great in social situations, much less dealing with good looking troublesome boys at wild parties.

“You’re really hot,” he widened his eyes, looking you up and down. “Damn.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” you blushed, growing pretty flustered by now. You checked your phone and quickly replied to Patrick’s text before clenching it in your hand. He had asked how the party was going, and you weren’t going to be a jerk and act like a total pessimist, so you told him it was going okay, which wasn’t exactly false. Things could be worse. You also made sure to tell him you wished he was here, well, that was before Jack started eying your phone screen suspiciously and you had to slip it back in your pocket.

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little tipsy,” he slurred his words, gulping down the rest of the contents in his cup. “How about we get out of here?”

“No thanks,” you shook your head politely. You know it’s rude, but you can’t help but pull out your phone again, reading Patrick’s response and then shuddering at the sudden smell of liquor near you. You looked up and it was then too late, realizing Jack had his arms slung around your waist, and you flinched with fright before staying frozen.

“You sure you don’t want to get out of this dump?” he whispered in your ear. You tried to move away but his arms held you in place, and the way he said those words made a chill go down your spine. You quickly shot Patrick a text wondering where Pete went, and attempted to lighten up at a joke he had made. “Come on baby.”

“I’m fine just here,” you insisted, trying to move again, only to be held in place. You glanced at your phone, hoping, praying, desperate for a response, but found none. Dammit Patrick.

“How about we go upstairs?” he mumbled, and as soon as you were about to protest, you found his lips on your neck, lazily working their way across your skin. You began to try and break away another time, but he just chuckled, pulling you in closer. “Oh come on, y/n, you know you love this.”

“Maybe another night, but not tonight,” you argued, craning your neck away from his mouth. You looked him in the eyes, those dark orbs gazing at you, and tried to ignore his sly smile. “Look, you’re an attractive guy, but you’re really drunk. I don’t want to be a one-night stand. Got it?”

“You?” he laughed, releasing you from his grasp instantly and bursting out into chuckles. “Oh honey, we’ll be having way more than just one night together.”

“It was nice meeting you,” you tried on a fake smile. “But I really have to be going now.”

“Woah! Not so fast!” he complained, grabbing ahold of your wrist as you started to walk away. Hell, he sure was touchy feely. You glanced at your phone, double checking you weren’t just making this up, but still found no reply from Patrick. You cursed underneath your breath and looked up again, realizing Jack was now hugging you. “I can’t let you go sweetheart. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Again, it was nice while it lasted,” you insisted, shoving him away gently. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave now.”

“Suit yourself,” he grumbled sadly, picking up another cup from the table and downing it, then slumping in a chair and starting to cry.

“Hey, hey,” you frowned, patting his back softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I just want you to be my girlfriend,” he sighed, staring into his empty cup as if you telling him no was the most depressing news he’s ever heard in his life. “You’re so pretty.”

“That’s extremely kind of you,” you gave a nervous smile. “I’m sorry, but I need to go home now. You have a nice night.”

“Please don’t,” he begged, staring at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“Hey! Hey, Jack!” a boy with messy brown hair came rushing towards him, groaning and then running a hand through his face. “Shit, you’re definitely wasted again.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” you giggled.

“Huh?” he spun around to face you and then widened his eyes. “Oh gosh, I am so sorry. What the hell did he do to you?”

“It’s fine,” you reassured, although you weren’t really sure how fine it was actually.

“Geez, I am so sorry,” he apologized again. “I’m Alex, I’m Jack’s best friend. I should’ve watched over him. Ugh, you go off and have fun.”

“Okay, uh, you have a good night too,” you waved, watching as they argued back and forth. You took a deep breath, walking out of the kitchen and checking your phone again, realizing you still didn’t have a response from Patrick. What a shitty party. You decided to leave, pushing your way past the crowd of people, deciding to just go home and sleep or cry or die or all three of those, when you opened the door and came face to face with him.

It was blonde hair swept to the side and fedora on his head and iconic glasses and these eyes, they seemed to be filled with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Y/n,” he breathed, taking in the sight of you, and before you could say his name, before you could think, before you could change your decision, your lips were on his and arms were pulling you closer towards him, both of you kissing in the doorway. When you pulled away he gazed at you, biting his lower lip nervously, but you only kissed him again, wanting more of this, knowing you had waited all those years for him. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.

PATRICK POV When I opened the door, the last thing I expected was for her to be right there in front of me. Face to face, she’s standing, beautiful as ever, eyes searching for something, and I’m hoping, praying, desperate for that something to be me. I barely whispered her name, feeling like I was losing sense of everything, convinced that my last opportunity to ever be with her would leave if she stepped out that door without me beside her. Before I could think, she’s taking a step towards me and placing her lips on mine, and I swept her up in my arms, planted my lips on hers, not even caring who the fuck watched us. I needed this, I had been waiting for this for so long, ever since I met her, this had been the moment I dreamed of. It was her arms pulling me closer and her tongue so sweet against mine and all my unexplainable emotions mixed together at the same time. She pulled back and for some reason I can’t take my eyes off hers, my nervousness seeping back into my skull when I realize what just happened, how she kissed me so fucking good, but I’m taken by surprise when she pulls me back in for another kiss, this time just as good if not better than the last. “Fuck,” she gasped for breath when we pulled away, and my eyes are on her, all over her, wanting more. I’ve gone without this for so long and I’ve waited my entire life and I can’t stop now, I won’t.

“I needed that so bad,” I accidentally admitted, my hands finding hers and holding her close. “I need you so bad.”

“Let’s get out of the doorway,” she decided, looking around before tugging me towards a hallway, then up the stairs, finally towards a room where she shoves me inside, closing and locking the door. “Look Patrick-”

Before she can speak my mouth is already exploring hers, our bodies pressed so close together, and she’s leaning against the door, fedora falling off my head, my lips trailing down her neck, trying to savor every kiss I can. “I’ve waited so long,” I mumbled, fumbling for the zipper in the back of her dress and sliding it down slowly. “I’ve dreamt about this moment for as long as I can remember.”

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” she begged, closing her eyes tight as I slipped the dress down from her body, her sliding off her heels, me coming back up and kissing her on the lips another time. “Please tell me this is real.”

“It’s real alright,” I chuckled, unclasping her bra and sliding that off of her arms. “God, I hope it is at least.” It’s not long before her last item of clothing is removed too, and she’s completely naked before me, and I drink in the sigh of her, her gorgeous body right there, all for me. I reached out to touch her again but instead this time she’s approaching me, reaching for the hem of my t-shirt.

“I’m so fucking glad I decided to kiss you,” she smirked, tugging my shirt off and running her hands down my chest. It’s not long before she’s on her knees, moving lover, and lower, unzipping my jeans and tugging down my boxers and now I’m the one pressed against the door, her mouth around my dick, me trying to suppress my moans. Fuck, how was she so good at this? I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this for so long.

Y/N POV His eyes, his hands, his body, his lips, oh my god his lips. Everything about him is so overwhelming and addicting and amazing all at once, and you can’t get enough. The small sighs that escape his mouth, the moans and groans he lets out when you’re both thrusting on top of the mattress, the feeling of being tangled together underneath the sheets, the way he’s gasping out your name, the feeling of him sinking into you, everything just pure euphoria and bliss. “Fuck y/n,” he’s moaning out. Patrick had never been one to cuss, but hell, you weren’t complaining. You loved this, craved it even, watching him near his climax and sputtering out your name. You’re tugging at his hair and he’s grasping onto your shoulders desperately, both of you coming undone, catching your breath and riding out your orgasms, holding onto the moment.

When he pulls out and the adrenaline is washed away with exhaustion, you’re wrapped in each other’s arms, both of your bodies so close. “Did you really like me?” you mumbled, curious. “All this time?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, kissing his lips again. “I was just afraid.”

“You were afraid?” he raised his eyebrows, surprised. “I was terrified.”

“Why?” you frowned. “I would’ve kissed you in a heartbeat.”

“Because I want to do so much more than kiss you,” Patrick explained. “I want to hold you and call you mine and live my life with you, tell you I love you, be able to wake up with you by my side every morning, want you to feel the same way.”

“I wanted that too,” you insisted. “I still do.”

“I was scared that you might not like me,” he confessed. “I thought you’d leave me, hate me, think I was stupid for even thinking I had a chance with you.”

“Hey,” your eyes softened, taking his face in your hand and cupping his cheek gently. “I’d never leave you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long and I still can’t imagine I’m finally here. I’ve been dreaming about you for forever.”

“Really?” he wondered.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. “And I’m finding it unbelievable that my dream has finally come true.”

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diddlesanddoodles · 8 years ago

Text

Mercy (G/T, human pets, hurt/comfort.)

SIDE STORY TO BITTER LEMONS MAKE.

You don’t need to read it to enjoy this story, but it will give some context.

Picture of Tommy and Evrik.

The room was the equivalent size of a school gymnasium, high bare ceilings exposing the metal structural beams that held bright white lights, and giving the floor a sense of sterile control. There were rows of plastic tubs, square and deep, sitting atop small metal carts and arranged in a grid pattern that ate up the majority of the floor space, looking not unlike a hospital’s nursery ward. Towards the entrance was a long table where an intern and two volunteers enthusiastically greeted people as they came inside, politely asking if they were registered. If the affirmative, and after confirming their names on their lists, they were given a brightly colored sticker to wear upon their person that marked them as being eligible to adopt from the event while those without a sticker were merely there for the novelty of viewing the wares on display.

The wares being Humans beings.

All the potential adopters and casual voyeurs alike were Feirgian. Beings who were very similar to the humans in the tubs save for a few key differences such as the large pointed ears, long sharp canines, and the fact they averaged 26 feet.

Each plastic tub, made of cloudy plastic, held a single human. Save for the largest of the tubs which was closer to the front and pushed along the side wall. This container held several of the younger humans, children, and of the domesticated variety. Dressed in plain matching cotton coverings, the children were all bouncing and calling as giants passed by. They were not shy in the least and were begging for affection from the all too willing Feirgians who gladly petted and stoked the smaller creatures.

Along the far back wall and nearly wholly neglected by most of the events attendees were the wild humans. A total of five, all fairly young, and mostly in a dour moods. Most of them were curled up in their blankets, one was sleeping, and another was nervously pacing. There was a young blue haired woman, covered in colorful tattoos, who stood close to the edge of her confinement, trying to see outside the clouded plastic or above the rim to watch the giants. When she pulled herself over the rim to see better, their handler came by and shooed her back inside with a mildly scornful frown.

“You have to stay inside, Claire,” Jarden told her, but there was no heat to his tone.

“I was just looking,” the woman replied dejectedly. “It’s dull as crap just sitting here. And I honestly might start ripping this blanket apart. Just to have something to do.”

“It’s just nervous energy,” he told her.

“Giving it a name doesn’t help get rid of it,” she replied. To which Jarden only shrugged.

“The doors just opened,” he said, raising his voice so all five of them could hear. “Have a little patience.”

Tommy wanted to say something snippy, something nasty, but he stopped himself. He had all but bold faced lied to get to this point, having scrapped through his evaluation by biting back every yell and curse word that bubbled up from his throat. The pretense of the whole ordeal was nearly lost when, during his evaluation, Dr. Weis declared that he would have to have two vaccinations. Unlike Astrid, having been seen before him, who did not need any. They had been unexpectedly painful. It was not as though he was not accustom to pain. He played high school football, he got knocked down constantly. He had broken both arms by the time he was ten and had several dentists visits under his belt, one of which included getting a palatal injection that honestly felt as though the needle had penetrated up into his brain. But those vaccinations had been an entire new level of discomfort. Whatever the serum inside actually was, Tommy was inclined to believe it was some kind of carbonated beverage for the way his arms and back felt after both. His skin quivered oddly and there was incredible heat and everything just below the skin at the injection site felt like it was bubbling. The pain lasted for a good five minutes and left him sore and irritable and he almost forgot to play the part of meek, obedient pet. But the giant doctor declared he was suitable to be adopted all the same and he then spent three days cooling his heels in a room with several other humans under the guise of quarantine.

Even now he had the very real fear that he was more likely to start yelling furiously at the first potential adopter to come near him than keep up his charade of the docile animal. Far more terrified than he had even been in his life, Tommy was pressed up to the back corner of his container, blanket folded neatly into a cushion under him, and he starred out at seemingly nothing. The clouded plastic material of his confinement allowed for him to see vague blobs that were the Feirgains milling about in and amongst the various other tubs that held the domestic humans, who seemed much more popular than the wild variety.

He was not entirely ungrateful for that. Even though his goal was to be adopted, it was more out a sense of self preservation than any real desire to degrade himself to nothing better than a lap dog. The whispered warnings had decided him. There were only three options for a wild human. Adoption, sanctuaries, or the zoo. Jarden had told them that sanctuaries were currently on a freeze and would not accept any more humans save for the sick or elderly as they were sustained almost wholly on visitor donations and as of late, visitor rates had dropped to a decade low and they were in a bit of a crisis. So any young or healthy human would either be adopted or sent to a zoo. The zoo had an unfortunate reputation and after hearing only a small bit of the supposed conditions, Tommy was desperate to be adopted. And so he found himself in a plastic tub. In a gym. In a strange world, a strange city, and surrounded by giants and waited for one of them to pick him.

It was enough to make him cry.

“You’re not looking too good there, little guy,” said a voice from above him and Tommy jerked to attention, not having noticed someone walk up. A Feirgian man was standing over his container, looking down at him with a mild mixed expression of curiosity and concern. “Need me to get one of the workers?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” Tommy managed to blurt out with more assertion than he intended, revealing his answer for the bold faced lie it was.

“You’re paler than milk,” the giant retorted, resting his arm on the lip of the container. “...and shaking.”

“I’m fine. I mean...I’ll be fine,” Tommy amended. “I’ll be fine.”

The giant glanced around briefly and said, “This all a little overwhelming for you, is it?”

Tommy could not catch himself and he snorted. “Oh, you have no idea, buddy. Overwhelming doesn’t begin to cover...” He stopped himself and let the angry snarling of his expression fall back into placid neutrality. “I mean...yeah. It’s...a lot.”

“Don’t feel obligated to censor yourself on my account,” the giant replied with the faint hint of a smile. “Might make you feel better to get it all out. Say it out loud. Does wonders for me.”

The human allowed his mask fall and he regarded the being before him with a pointed look.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna hear the shit-er, I mean, stuff that I have rattling around in my head right now,” he said.

“Try me,” dared the Feirgian in reply, smirking. “I might surprise you.”

He studied the giant for a moment with a critical eye, trying to gauge the seriousness of the challenge, and he decided if this big guy really wanted to know what he thought...well, he did ask for it. With a fortifying breath, Tommy began his tirade on the state of things from his view. How absolutely stupid it was that humans, particular wild humans, were immediately trapped, stripped of their humanity, and sold for profit directly after experiencing easily the most traumatic moment of their lives. If anyone thought being pulled through time and space by a cosmic hissy fit was pleasant, he suggested they find someone large and pay them five bucks to sucker punch them in the chest. Then they might have some semblance of understanding of what the true experience was like. Then have them stripped of all personal possessions, - “...down to you’re freaking tighty whities!” - and told to behave so you can be adopted or you might go to the zoo. Where apparently, people routinely commit suicide due to severe depression or out of desperation to escape crushing the monotony of a rigorously controlled existence where your one purpose is to parade around for the enjoyment of paying tourists and then breed so the resulting babies can be taken away and raised by giants and then sold as pets.

“And then of course,” Tommy continued on heatedly. “On top of all that fresh level of hell, you’ll never see your family again. I’m Italian. You know how big my family is? I have twenty cousins, buddy. Twenty! And they’re all gonna think some serial killer murdered me, hauled off my bloody corpse, and stuffed me in the woods somewhere so some hiker can find my bones thirty years later. My Mom will be wearing black for the rest of her life! And here I am, trying to be patient while some giant without any real understanding of what the fuck I am going through strolls in and decides I’d make a good lap dog because they like the color of my hair or because maybe I look like the pet human they had growing up and give me a stupid new name like Fluffy or Bosco or something stupid like that. I am not a pet, dammit. I am a person!”

He ended his ranting, out of breath and panting, and it was after a quiet moment that he realized his cheeks were streaked with tears. His breathing wavered as he scrubbed viciously at his face to wipe away the offending moisture, equal parts mortified and relieved. The giant had not been wrong, it felt amazing to say it out loud, but the relief was brief as the new fear of the giant’s reaction took hold.

Staring up at the Feirgan, Tommy could not tell what his expression was. Astonished? Mad? Offended? Would he tell Jarden of his ranting? Had Jarden heard? Would they void his approval and send him to the zoo? Had he just screwed himself over? Oh god, oh god...oh god!

“I admit,” said the giant at last, not sounding at all offended, but rather he seemed bewildered. “That I never even considered how wild humans felt about it all.” He stared thoughtfully, brows furrowing. “Or that I have ever given any of it much consideration. Humans I mean.” The Feirgian was silent for a few more moments before turning his eyes back to Tommy, who for his part was waiting with bated breath and slightly trembling. “What’s you’re name?”

“Thomas Contini,” he replied flatly. “B-but I go by Tommy.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Tommy,” the giant said gently. “I don’t know how much value there is in saying it, but...I am sorry.”

Even after the giant had gone, Tommy was left feeling oddly empty yet...content. Such a simple phrase, often meaningless in the face of such calamity and tragedy. But somehow, it felt sincere. A feeling of calm washed over him then and for the first time since coming to this world, he was able to sleep soundly and without nightmares.

He awoke about half an hour later to a Feirgian lady cooing at him and he was able to bare the indignity of it better than he thought he would. Thankfully, the woman seemed to lose interest in him pretty quickly and outwardly exclaimed her delight upon spotting Claire, with her brightly colored hair and tattoos.

Poor Claire.

Another group of giants passed by, all wanting to touch and pet him and though it made his stomach squirm and roil with indignation and moritfication, he allowed it. But in his head, he was cursing at them all. After what seemed like a solid hour of nonstop petting and general molestation by the curious giants, there was a lull and Tommy was able to catch his breath. He tried to arrange his hair back into something that might generously be called neat. Then he looked around to take stock and felt a start when he did not see the vague shaped blog that was Astrid inside the container to his right. A pang of guilt and sorrow hit him to realize she was gone. She had fallen into this world with him, just a little kid. With bright eyes and freckles and entirely innocent. He prayed silently that whoever it was that picked her out to be their pet would treat her well.

But he did not have much time to grieve as Jarden was suddenly at the edge of his container, grinning like mad. “Congratulations, Tommy.”

The boy blinked up at the dark skinned Ferigian. “What?”

“You got adopted.”

His mouth fell open and he visibly paled. “Wha...uh, but I...huh?”

“Vinya just gave me the confirmation papers,” Jarden said, clearly ecstatic. “Someone’s taking you home.”

Tommy immediately tried to recall every face that had come by to bug him and who might have showed enough interest to consider adopting him. His closest guesstimation was a young Feirgian woman who had enough audacity to actually pick him up and hold him. He had been far too shocked to do anything and perhaps she had interpreted this as him liking her. She had smelled strongly of perfume and was overly affectionate and did not say a blip of English to him during the entire encounter, only cooing at him in Feirgish.

His stomach felt as though he had swallowed a lead bowling ball. Oh god, he’d been adopted by Elmyra from Tiny Toons! He could just imagine the woman saying, “I’m gonna hug you and kiss you and love you forever and never let you go!”

If she could speak English at all, that is…

“This is a good thing, Tommy,” Jarden said, breaking the boy from his stupor. “I promise. You’re going to be fine, kiddo.”

Tommy could only nod absently even as Jarden reached down to gather him up. Everything else was a blur as they passed the grid of other tubs, some of them now empty. The front entrance was crowded with people and the volunteers were bringing various humans up to the intern who was busy doing something. The intern would call something out and a Feirgian would step up and be handed a bag and then a human. Tommy noticed a lot of the Feirgians were leaving with children and though he did look, he did not see Astrid. But he did see Elmyra. Standing amongst the throngs of people milling about and waiting, ostensibly to collect their new pets.

Tommy wished he were anywhere else.

Jarden walked up to the table where the intern was saying something to a Feirgian couple who were walking away with one of the domestic humans, an adult woman who seemed perfectly pleasantly peachy to be going home with them. The intern, a sandy blond haired woman with brown eyes, turned to Jarden and said something in a chipper voice. She turned and called out something that sounded like it might have been a name, but Tommy felt numb to it all and he did not catch it. His eyes were trained on Elmyra, waiting with his heart in his throat and wondering how the hell he was going to live with this woman…

But she did not move.

Instead, someone else eased out between the crowd with mutterings of apologies and made their way to the table. It was the Feirgian gentleman that Tommy had ranted to earlier in the day. He was on the taller side as Feirgians went, with a lean build, and a face that was only just starting to show his age though his hair was already streaked with gray. He wore a maroon sweater and brown slacks, a long black coat folded over his arm.

And Tommy was at an incredible loss as to how to feel. Even when their eyes met and the giant flashed a small smile, Tommy detected a hint of something else. Something in the man’s eyes. There wasn’t any of the anxious excited energy like the other giants picking up their new pets. He seemed rather...subdued. And it worried Tommy.

A lot.

“Evrik Viteur?” asked the intern as the Feirgian reached the desk. “Wetrim hect geir vos?”

“Jen,” replied the giant, pulling out a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his trousers and handing it to the intern. He silently put his long black coat on.

“Vank suden,” the intern read over the paper before turning to Jarden with a smile. “Ah! Jarden, hos ternum va?”

“Je’,” replied Jarden with a satisfied grin.

There was no sound to the world all of a sudden. People moved their mouths as they spoke above him in Feirgish, but Tommy couldn’t hear it. The only sound that penetrated the haze of panic was the hectic thumping of his own heart.

This was it. The moment. Papers were traded again between the Feirgian man – his owner – and the intern. He said something to Jarden and Tommy felt more than heard the giant’s reply in the form of the vibrations of his chest as he spoke.

He’d been adopted. His humanity was stripped away. He was a pet. Owned. Property. A thing. Having thought of this moment over the course of the last several days to an extent that came close to monomania, Tommy was surprised that he felt more sorrow than anger or fear. He would miss being seen as a person. As an equal to those around him. More than he ever thought he would before this whole mess. It was all he could do to keep from sobbing.

“Tommy,” Jarden said and he was broken from the noiseless maze of his mind. Sound returned with a vengeance and everything seemed far too loud now. He looked up at Jarden with wild eyes.

“H-huh?” he stammered.

“I said good luck,” the giant replied quietly with a smile and then his hands were pulling Tommy away from him, holding him out into the world. Tommy felt blind and naked and vulnerable in those outstretched hands. Like a new born calf, unsteady, confused, and filled with the instinctive yearning for his mother. “I want to thank you again, Mr. Viteur. I’m happy to see Tommy go to a good home.”

Mr. Viteur inclined his head slightly, his enigmatic smile never wavering and his hands came to take Tommy. “I am happy to provide him with one.”

The moment the unfamiliar giant’s fingers touched him, Tommy shuddered involuntarily and could not meet his eye. Tucked up against the thick wool of the black coat and cradled by one of his owner’s arms, Tommy was lost to the world once more as he retreated into himself. The intern handed a large plastic bag, the logo of the adoption agency plastered on its front, and heavy with its contents. With both bag and human in hand, Mr. Viteur turned towards the doorway and walked out into the noisy street of the city. At some point, his owner shifted him about so that Tommy was tucked inside the coat to shield him from the biting chill of the wind. Neither spoke.

The strange sights of the city were lost to Tommy as he sat miserable and lost and docile in his owner’s arms. The sound of the lively streets were abruptly cut off and the brisk chill was replaced with pleasant warmth as Mr. Viteur walked into a shop. By the smell of it, he wagered it was a coffee shop. Once more Tommy was shifted about and two warm hands placed him carefully onto a high table.

His owner’s face probed his personal space, eyes furrowed and mouth frowning. “Are you all right, my boy? You haven’t said a word and you’re still very pale.”

Tommy could barely bring himself to maintain eye contact and his paltry attempt at answering came out as a strange kind of warble. His eyes were watering…

“Tommy,” the giant said quietly, but firmly. “Talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

After several false starts and fortifying breaths, Tommy managed to croak out a feeble reply. “I….I’m terrified.”

The giant did not seem surprised, but he did look a little sad. “Of me?”

“No. I mean...well, not so much you,” Tommy replied honestly. “I’ll be fine though. I just...I’ll be fine.”

“So you keep saying,” replied the giant, dryly. “But please know that I am not going to hurt you or do anything that would make you unhappy.”

Before he could stop himself Tommy muttered, “You already have...”

There was instant regret, a great wave of it, and he was certain now that his morose mood was now turning towards the suicidal. He should just shut up. Be quiet. Settle down. But his thoughts and feelings felt out of control, almost as though they were not his own. Everything felt out of control. If only he could gain purchase on something. Anything. If only…

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Not like it sounded. I’m sorry, I just...”

“Tommy,” said his owner, voice confusingly soft. He should be mad, Tommy thought. He should at the very least, scold his pet for disobedience. But instead, there was a soft, warm palm pressed to his back. The face ahead of him did not look an ounce angry or displeased. He looked sad. “I may not know very much in the way of humans as a species or what you’ve been through, but I do know people. And it seems to me that you might be having a panic attack.”

If anything, that broke Tommy from the death spiral of thought and feeling and he managed to look a bit dubious at the suggestion. “A panic attack?”

“Yes,” the large man replied. “You’re acting like a cornered animal.”

“Isn’t that what I am?” he replied. “An animal?”

“I quite clearly remember you asserting that you were a person.”

“What does it matter what I say?”

“It matters very much to me,” replied the giant frankly and then a ghost of a smile broke the mild annoyed frown. “Seeing as I just signed a contract promising to take care of you.”

“Why?” Tommy asked finally, getting to the real meat of his confusion. “After I literally screamed all my bullshit at you, you go and decided ‘Hey! He’s a nice kid. I think I’ll adopt him!’ I don’t get it. I don’t get you.”

“Is that why you’re panicking?” his owner asked, greatly amused and perhaps a little relieved. “Because I confuse you?”

“Sure,” Tommy replied disingenuously. “Let’s go with that.”

“Well,” he replied with a shrug. “To be blunt, it was pretty much a spur of the moment decision. I didn’t go there intending to adopt a human. Just to look. But what you said...”

He grew silent, his focus growing distant as he mulled over his next words. “I knew instantly that you were right. And everything felt disgustingly wrong all of a sudden. Those other wild humans and you looked and acted wholly different than the other ones. Like you were going to prison rather than a new home. It’s not like I’ve never seen humans before, but...”

“You didn’t see them as people. Like you,” Tommy finished, the uncomfortable churning of his guts beginning to ease and his mind began to settle. “And now?”

“And now I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the middle of downtown Raudenstein trying to convince a scared kid that I am mean him no ill will.” A pause. “Nor do I intend to change his name to either Fluffy or Bosco.”

Tommy didn’t have a ready answer and his tired mind was not coming up with any snippy retorts or humerus comebacks. So he just said, “So...why then? If you didn’t mean to adopt a pet, why go there? Why bother with any of it? With me?”

“Because you looked like you might need someone to care,” his owner said with enough perceived sincerity to be believable. “And I’m conceited and confident enough in my own abilities and position to think I’ll be able to help.”

“So if you didn’t adopt me to be a pet...then what am I?”

To Tommy’s surprise, the giant shrugged. “In the eyes of the law, you’re property. Bought and paid for. There’s nothing I can do about that.” He paused again and the large hand that had been settled around the human’s shoulders disappeared and the giant stood to his full height, placing his hands into his coat pockets and regarded Tommy with an open expression and looking nonchalant. “But as far as I am concerned, you are simply an unconventional, but still very welcomed, roommate.”

“Roommate?” Tommy echoed and found the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin. After a moment, he quipped a sardonic, “Well, how do you expect me to pay rent?”

The giant’s smile turned into a pleased grin and he winked. “We’ll work it out later.” He then offered Tommy his hand and for a moment, the boy was bewildered before recognition hit. A wave of relief, a warm comforting feeling, spread throughout his body. His internal panic subsided and there was something akin to genuine hope nesting in the back alleys of his subconscious.

He rose to his feet, albeit shakily, and placed his absurdly small hand, in comparison, into the giant’s and they shook.

“By the way, I’m not sure I ever introduced myself. My name is Evrik Viteur.”

This is a side story to Salty Lemonade and its prologue Bitter Lemons Make. Read together and they read ‘Bitter Lemons Make Salty Lemonade’. Get it? Well, I thought it was clever.

I may write more with Tommy and Evrik in the future, but I really need to start in on the body work of Salty Lemonade which follows Astrid through her life settling in as giant’s pet. Or rather two giants.

#Tommy #Evrik #GT #G/T #gt story #g/t writing #Salty lemonade #side story #Hurt #comfort

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